#it might not have some grand meaning it's just interesting to me...
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octuscle · 19 hours ago
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Exchange student: Athens (GA)
Benjamin was not particularly happy that he had come to Georgia as an exchange student. Athens... He had wanted something in New England. Or at least in California. But he hadn't been able to choose. Athens had taken him.
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The introductory week had been a disappointment. His fellow students were almost exclusively from the neighborhood, the boys were interested in football and hunting rifles, the girls in boys. It was all so clichéd that it was hard to express. But there was actually a very good grand piano in the assembly hall and Benjamin had been given permission to use it for his daily exercises after a short audition. He had not yet met his roommate. He wasn't due to return to university until a week later because of some family business. Benjamin was hoping for someone who was also interested in classical music and expressionism. Or at least someone who was also studying literature, art history or something similar.
It was the night from Saturday to Sunday when the door opened with a huge crash at around 02:00. Someone threw a duffel bag onto the bed and turned on the light. Benjamin blinked startled at the sudden light. He couldn't see anything against the light. But it smelled of sweat and a few other things he couldn't identify. The shadow took off his shirt, threw it on the floor and sat down on the other bed. Benjamin's eyes adjusted to the light and he began to recognize something.
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"Well howdy, you must be Ben. I'm Hunter, no lie, that's my name, partner. Shoo, it ain't even 2 o'clock yet. What in tarnation are ya doin' in bed?" Benjamin was disgusted. He would have to share the room with a redneck. He turned around and mumbled, “Nice to meet you. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to sleep.” Hunter just said, “Well, that’s on you if ya overlook somethin’, darlin’,” rummaged in his duffel bag and disappeared again. It must have been around 04:00 when he returned. Now it also smelled of booze. Benjamin pretended to be asleep, even though Hunter was making a lot of noise. After he had finished clearing out his things, Benjamin heard him burp loudly a few more times. And soon he was snoring.
When Benjamin's alarm clock rang at 07:00, Hunter was still snoring. He was lying naked on the comforter. Benjamin had to admit with envy that he was well trained. His butt was firm. His upper body was deeply tanned and Hunter was pale below the waist. A guy who worked out in the fresh air. Benjamin's cock got hard. He quickly grabbed his scrubs and headed for the washrooms. He wanted to be at the Georgia Museum of Art early. When he returned to his room, freshly showered, Hunter was lying awake on his bed. Jerking off his morning wood. “Well, howdy there, early riser! Ain't that somethin'! You fixin' to hit the pavement for a run?” Benjamin turned around, embarrassed. Because he didn't want to disturb Hunter while he was wanking. And because his own cock was leaking precum into his boxer shorts. “No thanks, I wanted to go to the museum.” “Real neat, we got one 'round these parts? Been here a whole year and didn’t even know. Might just tag along next time, if y'know what I mean.” “That would be nice,” Benjamin replied as he hurriedly got dressed and left the room. He had to go to the washrooms again before he went to the museum. He really needed to wank. He thought about Hunter.
He wasn't really focused in the museum. At the beginning, he made sketches of the halls and the works of art on display. He was actually surprised by the quality. There were top-class works here. But when he caught himself doodling a stag in his notebook the third time, he decided that he would probably be better off getting some fresh air. He took his rucksack out of his locker and left the museum. The fresh air did him good. Benjamin walked along Campus Road. He passed the Georgia Museum of Natural History. It was still early. He went inside.
Natural history wasn't really his hobby. But Benjamin was fascinated by the dioramas of the local animal world. He enthusiastically made sketches of the deer. Why the hell had he already made them at the art museum? And why were the deer he was drawing now often hunted prey? He probably just couldn't get Hunter out of his head. He was getting a hard-on again. Benjamin made his way back to the dormitory. Hunter and he hadn't got off to a good start. But now he would like to put that right.
"Down at th’ park wit’ the boys, tossin’ sum balls ‘round. Y’all come on by if ya wanna join!" The note was on Ben's pillow. There was a lot else lying around the room. It was as if a bomb had gone off. Hunter was obviously not the tidiest of people. There was a camouflage T-shirt on the floor. Benjamin pressed it to his face. It smelled of sweat and masculinity. He couldn't help it. He had to jerk off again. This time it came with unexpected force. Shit, on the floor, on the bed, his cum was everywhere. He took one of his dirty towels from the laundry basket and tried to clean it up as best he could. And then he made his way to the park. He had to watch Hunter play football with his buddies.
Benjamin had to search a bit to find Hunter and his friends. But it was worth it. A gang of young rednecks in the prime of their youth, on their way to becoming real men. Their muscles were glistening with sweat, their mullets sticking wet to their heads. “Yo, Ben!” Hunter shouted when he saw Benjamin. Benjamin was amazed that Hunter had recognized him. Hunter ran up to him and did a fist bump, which Benjamin returned somewhat awkwardly. “Hey there, what in tarnation are ya doin’ just standin’ ‘round like a bump on a log? Get yourself changed and hit that field!” Benjamin said that he had nothing to change into. “Floyd, you knucklehead! You got your gym gear?” Hunter yelled across the pitch. He, who was presumably Floyd, yelled back “Sure thing!”. Hunter went to a bag and threw it to Benjamin. “Here ya go, this oughta fit ya, Big fella!” Benjamin was a little embarrassed to just change in the open field. But there was no turning back now. The last time he had played football was five years ago. And he had been bad. Really bad. Now he was standing on a field in sweaty, oversized clothes belonging to a guy he didn't know called Floyd and had to play football with a guy he hardly knew, but had already wanked off on twice today. The ball flew towards him. Benjamin caught it with a leap. “To me!” roared Hunter. And with a powerful and precise pass, the ball flew to Hunter. “Bloody hell!” thought Benjamin.
The sun was about to set. The boys were lying on the grass, drinking some kind of isotonic thirst quencher. They had all taken off their shirts. Hunter's head was on Benjamin's stomach. “Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, buddy! You best be chowin' down more and hittin' them weights less. That belly of yours ain’t got no softness to cuddle up to!” “In your dreams!” replied Benjamin, tousling Hunter's wet hair. Damn, he was well on his way to becoming a jock... Benjamin and Hunter spent the evening together, when the sun went down, they went to the movies and then out for a burger. Benjamin had never spent a Sunday like this before. It felt wrong. But it felt so good!
The next morning, Hunter's alarm clock rang at 05:30. “Dude, running and gym!” he said as he shook Benjamin awake. Benjamin had done more sport yesterday than he had ever done in his life. But without argument, he put on Floyd's dirty and sweaty clothes and the two of them set off. Benjamin actually had his first lecture at 08:30. English poetry of the 19th century. But he couldn't leave Hunter to bench press on his own. And so it was 09:00 when he arrived in the lecture hall. In his sweaty gym clothes. Without his homework. His professor asked him to join her after the lecture to explain to him clearly that this was not the performance she expected. And that he would stink. Benjamin raised his arm and took a deep breath from his armpit. “You're damn right,” he said, nodding appreciatively. His cell phone vibrated. “Fucc dude, 4got my laptop.  Bring it by, bruh. Warnell school of 4estry and natural resources” Benjamin knew where that was. Behind the natural history museum. Next lecture wasn't for another hour. Benjamin sprinted home, grabbed the computer from Hunter's desk and ran into the department. “I'm at the entrance, bro,” he wrote. ‘Cum 2 the library,’ Hunter replied. Benjamin followed the signs. Floyd was waiting outside the library. “Hey y'all, thanks a million! You’re a real lifesaver for Hunter and me. And I gotta say, them clothes are lookin' sharp. And that mullet? Pure gold!” Benjamin blushed and said that he would do the washing today and Floyd would bring the clothes back clean tomorrow. Floyd laughed and said that they had only been on for a week, a bit early to wash them. Benjamin joined in the laughter and headed off to his next lecture. Bloody hell, what had Floyd said. Mullet? What mullet? He ran his fingers through his hair sweaty from running. It was sticking to the back of his neck. Benjamin searched for a window pane to look at his reflection. Shit, he had a similar hairstyle to the boys.
Tuesday morning was Hunter and Ben's first lecture, “Ecosystems and Habitat management” in Professor Castleberry's Wildlife Ecology and Management class. They both got quite a telling off for missing the first lecture the previous week. Hunter's excuse was that he couldn't leave his parents' hunting lodge because of the storm. The story of how the bridge had been washed away sounded super realistic. Ben had to bite his tongue not to laugh out loud. He knew that Hunter simply hadn't wanted to leave without killing the big stag. Ben's excuse was less original. The fact that he was wrongly enrolled in art history and literature led to great laughter in the lecture hall. A guy with “corn-fed Midwestern boy” literally tattooed on his forehead couldn't be in a worse place than in a lecture on 19th century English poetry. Luckily, the two best buddies were given two adjacent seats. They hadn't showered after the gym today either. Very few of their fellow students wanted to sit next to them. But it was their lucky day anyway. Although the registration deadline had actually already passed, they both still got a place on the excursion to the “Population biology and ecology” field trip at the weekend. They could hardly wait for Friday. Finally a chance to get some fresh air and hopefully a good piece of game. Their hunting rifles were already threatening to rust.
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A few of his fellow students knew that his real name was Ben. But everyone here called him Buck. Hunter and Buck. It just went together. The two of them studied together, pumped iron together, played football together. They hunted together. And yes, they also fucked together. But only without eye contact. Otherwise it would be totally homo!
Pics by @ki-kink
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callmemonster68 · 2 days ago
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ENHYPEN - BigBoy ( smut )
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Y/N has a thing for grand things, and, well, boys definitely fit the description
Pairing: Enhypen X FemReader
Genre: Obscenity
Warning: Contains explicit content, unprotected sex, suggestive, penetration, explicit language, climax, sex, swearing, loss of virginity, hickeys, messy make-out sessions, dirty talk, compliments, rough sex, touching bruises, handcuffs, chains, sadomasochism , masochism, brands, public sex, oral
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Heeseung
Setting: Heeseung is showing off a new pair of sneakers with thick soles. Dialogue: Y/N: "Those sneakers are huge. You know, I have a thing for big things." (Heeseung pauses mid-lace-tying and looks at you with a smirk.) Heeseung: "Oh yeah? Like what, for example?" Y/N (laughing): "I’m sure you know exactly what I mean." Heeseung (chuckling): "You’re getting really good at teasing, you know that?" (He steps closer and lowers his voice.) Heeseung: "We should continue this conversation later… without an audience."
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Jay
Setting: The group is eating dessert, and someone comments on the oversized cake Jay brought. Dialogue: Y/N: "Wow, Jay, you really like big things, huh?" Jay (laughing): "Always! Better to have too much than not enough." (You glance at him suggestively, and a small giggle escapes.) Jay (noticing): "Wait... are you talking about the cake or...?" Y/N: "Depends. Do you think I’m talking about the cake?" (He tilts his head with a mischievous smile.) Jay: "I think we should talk about this in private."
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Sunoo
Setting: The group is discussing oversized bags, and Sunoo is showing off a new one he bought. Dialogue: Y/N: "That bag is massive, Sunoo! I love big things like that—they draw attention." Sunoo: "Oh? Then I guess you must be used to me." (You’re surprised by his quick comeback and laugh loudly.) Y/N: "Look who’s confident today!" Sunoo: "Just matching your energy. You started it, I finished it." (He winks and goes back to adjusting the bag, pretending to be indifferent but clearly smiling.)
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Sunghoon
Setting: Sunghoon picks up a large water bottle and comments on how practical it is. Dialogue: Y/N: "Wow, that bottle is huge! I really love big things like that." Sunghoon: "Oh, do you? So that’s your preference?" (You laugh and glance at him.) Y/N: "Maybe. Why? Curious?" Sunghoon (smiling): "Depends. Do you want me to be curious?" (He takes a sip of water without breaking eye contact.) Sunghoon: "This conversation seems like it’s about to get interesting later."
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Jake
Setting: You’re helping decorate a room, and Jake is holding a large statue to place on a shelf. Dialogue: Y/N: "Wow, Jake, that’s really big. I like things like that—big." (He raises an eyebrow, noticing your chuckle.) Jake: "Are you sure you’re talking about the statue?" Y/N (shrugging): "Maybe. Why? Got something else in mind?" Jake (nervously laughing): "You just love making me flustered, don’t you?" Y/N: "I’m just being honest." (He places the statue on the shelf but doesn’t take his eyes off you.) Jake (quietly): "I’d like to hear more about those preferences later."
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Jungwon
Setting: Jungwon shows up with an oversized pillow, and everyone comments on how exaggerated it looks. Dialogue: Y/N: "That pillow is huge. You know, I really like big things." Jungwon (raising an eyebrow): "Do you now? You seem pretty specific about that." (You give him a playful smile and glance at him briefly.) Y/N: "Maybe I’m just appreciating the view." Jungwon: "If you keep looking at me like that, I might start thinking it’s not just the pillow impressing you." (He laughs and shakes his head, but the blush on his cheeks gives him away.)
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Niki
Setting: The group is playing video games, and someone comments on the massive size of a character on the screen. Dialogue: Y/N: "Look at the size of that! I love things like that—big, you know?" Niki: "Oh, really? Since when did you develop such refined taste?" (You chuckle and look directly at him.) Y/N: "Always have. Some big things are just hard to ignore." Niki (blushing): "Are you teasing me, or are you serious?" Y/N: "What do you think?" (He pretends to focus on the game, but the grin on his face makes it clear he’s not forgetting this anytime soon.)
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✿ If you don't reblog and comment, you can be sure I'll be showing up in your dreams tonight... and I won’t be as sweet as in the story ✿
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skymantle · 2 years ago
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everyday im haunted by the use of "here we are" in undertale
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beartitled · 10 months ago
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why did you choose polar bear? 🐻‍❄️🐻‍❄️🐻‍❄️
you look much cuter:³🩵🤍🩵🤍🩵
Oh hey that’s the question™️
(don’t get the second one tho)
Anyway
Um
Basically I watched one cartoon as a child (I was about 3 years old) and I kinda got a life long brainrot 🤷
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chuluoyi · 8 months ago
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 !
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- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader
you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, kinda slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, divorce, marriage of convenience, heavy pining (from gojo's part), childhood friends trope, mentions of infidelity, misogyny, infertility, explicit smut
note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress (but i promise you, it's different). my god, for the past month this is all i can think about *sobs* wc. 10.5k ! this is the longest thing i've ever posted here, and if you'd give it a chance, then i'll be really, really thankful!
credit header goes to @/gojokko in twitter!
next. the crown of diamonds | long live the empire
general masterlist | series masterlist
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“I accept the divorce.”
Your perfect life was done for. Everything you had worked hard towards— it was now in shambles and tatters.
You, an ethereal, revered empress... someone untarnished in the face of public and private, had just agreed to the emperor’s blatant request of separation.
“My god... how can this be!?”
“Your Majesty! Please reconsider!”
Emperor Zen’in Naoya of the Eastern Empire, your husband—and companion for more than ten years—smirked as he looked down at you, paying zero attention to the uproar in this courthouse.
But then you heard that kind, velvety voice from the back of your head:
“If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”
This place has turned into a whopping circus ever since you and Naoya stepped inside anyway. And so, having nothing worthy left to lose, you declared, “And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage.”
Your boldness once again stirred a wave of clamor among the crowd, and even Naoya was glaring at you in disbelief now. “A remarriage…? How dare you—!”
“Well... is it the time for my grand entrance?”
Deep from behind the curtains, suddenly he emerged, dressed in the most lavish robes befitting his own throne, outshining everyone in the room as if he was the one owning the place.
“Heh.” His low chuckle stunned even the mass as he took big strides towards where you were.
This would seal your fate. From now onwards, you would no longer be the perfect empress. Your messy divorce and remarriage will relegate that image to history.
“My goodness, that’s…” the woman in the front gasped. “Western Empire’s…”
“Gojo… Satoru?” Naoya's eyes lit with genuine fury as the other man took his place by your side. “You couldn't possibly mean…!”
You interrupted him regally. “Yes, he is the man I wish to remarry.”
This event was going to blow up tomorrow, with scandalous titles no less than The Deposed Empress Remarries! And there was no going back, ever.
How did your pristine life turn into such a shameful debacle? None of these turn of events would be imaginable for you several years prior...
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SATORU, THE CROWN PRINCE OF WESTERN EMPIRE
To Satoru, you were more than just the east’s breathtaking empress—you had captured his attention long before you ascended to that role.
Seven years ago, you were the renowned noble lady, the paragon of perfection sought after by many lords and monarchs alike.
You were both cunning and fair, pretty in the face, came from an illustrious family known for birthing famous empresses in either western and eastern empires. You were the quintessential template that mothers advised their sons to seek in a wife.
The fairest in the land—that was how people called you. And Gojo Satoru is always and only interested in the best.
“Suguru... look at her.” His eyes would soften at the sight of you as he nudged at his closest ally and confidant, the duke. “She is so... pretty, isn’t she?”
Unfortunately, you had been promised to the Eastern Empire’s crown prince from a long time ago too. There was little that the outsiders, including himself—even if he was the heir apparent to his own throne—could do to sway your heart.
“There's more to women than their faces, Satoru,” Suguru sighed, thinking that what he had was a mere lust. “Moreover, she’s engaged to the Zen’in... and they have a very good relationship. Nothing you can do about that.”
“Hmph.”
To be honest, he couldn’t fathom what you could possibly like about that murderous Zen’in spawn. He was a pompous human being, no less.
How on earth could you stand someone like that? Satoru had always wondered… especially when it was well-known to the land that you and him were on good terms despite your arranged marriage.
—and once, he thought he knew who you are…
. . .
Satoru swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat as he attended the royal wedding of you and Zen’in Naoya. Despite hating the circumstances, he had to admit it was a fairytale wedding—albeit with the wrong groom.
You were the epitome of picture book princess. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the attendees of your wedding.
Oh, and he made headlines too, that day—
“My princess, may I have this dance?”
Two hours hadn’t even passed by after you swore your vows as Naoya’s bride, and there he was, asking for your first dance, in your own wedding ball, right in front of your newly wedded husband.
Everyone bet on you turning him down and making a fool of himself, but instead, to spare his feelings, you put your delicate hand in his, and with a wide, shy smile, you said, “Yes.”
Satoru thought it was his greatest achievement then. To have made Naoya red-faced, to have made him watch as he put his hands on your waist, twirl you around— and come one breath away from your face.
“Princess, you’re…” his breath caught as he pulled you close, staring straight at your face—and suddenly he felt like life was so unfair to him as the slow melody of waltz was all he could hear.
How could you be this close... and yet so far by being somebody else’s wife?
And yet he forced the words out, with sincerity he had never showed anyone else before, even as his heart bled and shattered. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”
Your eyes widened, sparkling with wonder, before you thanked him with the loveliest of smiles. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”
Satoru was certain... you had ruined him, because no one else would ever be able to turn his world with just a smile like you did, even as you broke his heart too into a million pieces.
. . .
Ever since that day, everyone had branded him as a prince in search of scandal—coveting the princess married to Zen’in clan.
What everyone didn’t know was that it went beyond that. His obsession of you went beyond your beauty and charms and wits. Rather, it goes a long way back.
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YOU, THE CROWN PRINCESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE
As inconceivable as it was, once upon a time, you and Naoya were a truly, happy couple.
Handpicked by the late emperor to become his son’s wife, you couldn’t be more proud. With you being the next empress of the Eastern Empire, your clan once again proved itself that it was always worthy of a seat in the monarchy.
But beyond that, you were elated that it was Naoya that you ended up marrying. Your own childhood friend, who often led you around his palace by hand and filled your days with many joy and laughs.
“One day soon, when we are the emperor and the empress—” younger Naoya was always someone who had big dreams about ruling his nation. “We will create a nation in which no one can do anything as they please! We’ll establish order, and anyone who goes against it will be punished! That way, it’ll encourage fairness!”
Not knowing it yourself, you had given your heart wholly to him. You had agreed to all his dreams and visions. You devoted yourself to them all, even more so after your marriage and coronation, as he promised you an ever after.
“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”
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YOU, THE EMPRESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE
“Your role is to give an heir to the throne, Empress.”
Your title had never sounded so heavy to you before now, especially when Naoya was the one saying it.
You sighed, gathering your wits and scattered feelings before levelling your calm gaze on your husband. “I understand that, Your Majesty. But it is not something that I can do on my own.”
This year would mark the fifth year of your marriage to Naoya. You understood that the fact you still weren’t able to be with his child would raise questions from the court, but still, must you be reminded of this fact over and over?
Your husband—no, the emperor—barked a satire laugh.
“Oh, really? As I understand it, being infertile is not something I can help you with.”
That hurt. It was a searing pain, like being branded with a red-hot iron. And it felt as if he had torn through your chest with his fist alone.
“I’m not infertile.” Your eyes gleamed with pure defiance as you lifted your chin, facing him in his audience chamber.
It dawned on you that lately, one of the few ways you could speak to him was by requesting an audience as opposed to your usual midnight talks in your private chambers.
When did it start to change? Or was Naoya this kind of person right from the very beginning and you were just blinded by love back then?
"Oh? And what would you call being childless for five years then?" Naoya sneered at you from his dais, placing one hand on his jaw. "Bad luck? You must be terribly cursed with misfortune then."
You fisted your dress, summoning all your strength to hold back tears. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him.
It wasn't as if you didn't want to carry his heir. For many women, holding their baby in their arms is a cherished dream, and when they hold a position of power like yours, it becomes not just a desire but a duty.
You tried everything—calling in the best doctors, consuming horrible potions, even consulting with the oracle. And they all said you were perfectly healthy and fine. You were at your wits end too.
The irony. You were celebrated in public for your competence, while privately, you suffered your husband's cold detachment and cruel remarks.
. . .
"Empress, where should we put the welcome gifts?"
You studied the floor plan of the banquet hall for your annual New Year's ball with a thoughtful hum before pointing at the entrance.
"Place it here. We want our guests to know that we are generous, and it's easily accessible since the parlor is the first area they reach after arriving."
You loved planning festivities. It was therapeutic in a way, and it gave you little time to think of anything else.
"Oh, and I want to have a welcome arch and flowers placed at the entrance too. This is the grandest event of the year, second only to the Emperor's birthday... we must display the grandeur that befits such an occasion."
Your head maidservant, Hanabi, placed a hand on her abdomen and nodded with a warm smile. "That's a very clever suggestion, Your Majesty! I'll ensure they arrange everything just as you wish!"
As she scurried away, you watched her with an assessing gaze. Hanabi had been with you throughout the five years of your marriage, always at your side, assisting with day-to-day matters and serving as your confidant. She was a great aide.
And you were observant by nature... so of course you noticed things.
...and if you were correct, then she was most definitely with a child.
The thing is... she is unmarried. You hesitated to jump to conclusions without evidence, yet the timing struck you as more than coincidental—it nagged at you for weeks now, suggesting a connection you hoped did not exist.
Because if they really did... then...
You didn't dare to think, because it would be more than a nightmare. But you weren't able to let this go either, so you did what was necessary.
You planted a note in Hanabi's chamber, and then you waited in the gardens, the chilly midnight air wrapping around you like a shroud.
You had done everything you could. Five years ago, you let go of everything and had decided to spend your life with your first love—Naoya.
Because you truly and devotedly love him. You give your all for him—for your life together.
"Ooh, Your Majesty~! It's so cold out here, why not in our usual—"
Hanabi's voice faltered as soon as she saw your crimson gown, feeling like the world had collapsed on her. And you rigidly turned towards her, feeling more or less the same.
And yet, what you had received from him is the greatest betrayal.
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SATORU, THE EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE
He first realized something was clearly wrong with you during the New Year’s ball that you hosted.
Satoru had just been crowned emperor during this time, and though rulers typically sent envoys to such grand celebrations due to concurrent festivities in their own lands, it had been several months since he last saw you. He wants to see you.
A meritless action, but he wanted to, regardless.
But that day, you were a fantastic actress in this stage called banquet hall and nobody was the wiser… but he would know, because you mattered a lot to him.
"Your Majesty, you don't seem well." He approached you with a glass of champagne, affixing a friendly smile. "Is there anything amiss?"
Taken aback, you didn't expect such close proximity that you took a step back. His smile almost faltered, but he kept it up.
"Emperor Satoru—"
"Ah, none of that, no. Address me just as you usually do, hmm?"
A smile finally tugged at your lips. "How is that fair, when you address me so formally?"
Satoru chuckled. "You, my queen, deserve all the finery and grandeur there is. And I will see to it that you do."
That was his nickname for you ever since you ascended the throne. Both of your countries refer you as “empress”, but he loves addressing you as “queen” instead.
There was a shift in your expression, and he thought you looked melancholic. It bothered him, stirring a desire to erase that somber look from you. Because above anything and everything, you had to be happy and smiling.
"You're still a flirt, I see, Satoru," you remarked, throwing him a soft smile. "It won't do you good if you're seen with me most of the time, you know."
No, I’m doing this just for you. He wanted to tell you that, but he sighed instead. "You've got it wrong. When I'm in the company of the most beautiful woman in the lands, what's there to be ashamed of?"
Perhaps hearing that finally melted you a bit as you freely giggled this time, and Satoru was glad that he made you laugh even a little.
"You would think that, huh..." you fondly mumbled. And then your expression crumbled, and he could've sworn something painful flashed in your eyes—
What happened to you? He so desperately wanted to ask, but then he saw that preying gaze on both of you. Zen’in Naoya. Satoru clicked his tongue as he watched him weave through the crowd, his gaze locked ominously on both of you.
“Seems like we don’t have much time, after all,” he began, urgency sharpening his words. “But rest assured, whenever you want to talk to me, just send a little birdie my way and I shall answer.”
“Huh?” you blinked at him questioningly, totally not getting what he meant.
He winked, then took your hand and placed a kiss on it, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the crowd at his bold gesture. “And chin up, my queen. You have nothing to fear, and if it makes you feel better...”
He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “To me, a diamond is most beautiful. And you… are one that sparkles above all.”
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“Naoya, unhand me this instant!”
You were tired of this shit, of Naoya always manhandling you—of him always having a total control over you.
After seeing how close you got to Satoru, Naoya practically saw red. Still, in the prying eyes of public, he remained unperturbed, but his vice-like grip on your arm was sure to leave bruise as he unkindly led you out of the ballroom.
"Naoya!" you raised your voice this time, even louder than before, uncaring even when the wandering eyes of the servants curiously followed the two of you.
You were not made an empress just to follow him. And with that conviction, you forcibly pulled your arm away from his grip right after he shut the door to the drawing room close, not even wincing at the stinging feeling.
His eyes shone with anger. “You insolent—!”
“No—” You stood your ground, and suddenly you got very irate and burst out, “How dare you, Zen’in Naoya!”
He looked at you with equal surprise and mortification, clearly unprepared for your righteous tirade.
"You have made a mockery of our marriage! You have insulted me and your own throne by carrying on with— with the help! My maid!" you screamed at his face, pure anger coursing through your veins. "How could you!?"
Naoya took in your outburst with eerie silence, a sneer slowly forming on his lips. "You get riled up over that? Have you forgotten emperors are free to take mistresses, especially when the empress isn't capable to bear any heirs?"
A burning arrow shot straight to your heart at his response but you willed yourself not to show it. "Regardless, you could've done better and not put our throne to shame by fucking a servant."
"I've told you time and time again. A woman's duty is to bear children, and since you've proven yourself beyond barren, I did you a favor."
"A favor...?"
"As soon as Hanabi births that child, you can raise him as your own," Naoya frankly stated unabashedly, as if proud with his idea. "Saves you the trouble and I get my heir, a win-win solution, no?"
Raise him as my own...? Saves the trouble? You could've sworn that throughout your entire life, you had never been so insulted before now, right in this moment.
"What I do, I always have my throne in mind. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed into unsatisfied slits. "What are you trying to achieve by whoring yourself to that rake, Gojo Satoru? Are you telling people of the ton that you're having an affair?"
His voice made you want to throw up. The realization that everything you thought you had together might have meant nothing to him at all made you feel sick.
And so, hiding your trembling hands and swallowing you unshed tears, you responded to him with a clipped tone—
"You're most despicable, Naoya. And you are a complete fool if you think even for a second that I'd want to raise your bastard!"
He seemed taken aback by your rejection, but you didn't falter. "And oh, since you want to make use of that lowly maid so much, feel free to take her back and track her down yourself, because I've sent that wench away."
With that, you turned your back on him, striding out with your head held high, even as your life crumbled into dust.
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Days after your full-blown argument with Naoya, your situation only worsened. By now, even the palace servants knew you had incurred his wrath, while Hanabi had won his favor by carrying his child—possibly the heir to the throne.
The child she was carrying was no threat to your position. After all, you were the empress. A child of your blood would trample over any bastard.
However, you'd be damned if you shared a bed with him again, and Naoya made it clear that his mistress would be elevated to the rank of royal consort. Given the current trajectory—and history's tendency to repeat itself—emperors often divorced or banished their empresses in favor of their mistresses.
Bah. You could only scoff at your laughable predicament. You came from a prestigious clan and were revered, yet now you were no more than a scorned woman.
Dark thoughts consumed your mind for a time—you couldn't deny that you had considered leaving the palace for self-imposed exile or even ending your life. However, reason always prevailed.
You wouldn't give Naoya what he wanted most: your compliance. And around the time when you resolved to do that, a finely decorated envelope arrived at your study, with no signature whatsoever.
Intrigued, you opened it to find an intricate dried rose bookmark and a folded letter nestled inside.
Greetings to you, my queen. Yeah, it's me. Hope you won't be too surprised. But if you do, know that I always mean well.
Satoru. You weren't expecting this. A small smile tugged at your lips. How long had it been since you last smiled so freely?
I've heard you love reading, hence the bookmark. Fun fact: I made it myself, with Shoko's help. She is sooo bad at explaining though so if the flower is wrinkled... please blame her.
This time, you giggled. He was an emperor, for god's sake. Should someone of his station write so informally like this?
Now... I'm no oracle, but even I know that you must be having bad days. And so, let me entertain you with several tales from my kingdom. So, the other day, my good friend Suguru, the duke—you must've heard of him surely (they said he is the most handsome bachelor in the West but they must be missing an eye for saying so because clearly I'm more!)—just fired a pair of his servants because he caught them in a thirst! He is so uptight! Why can't he let two people in love be!?
Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling at the lines upon lines of anecdotes Satoru had penned in the letter. The way he wrote, it was as if he was right here, saying all of this to you in real-time. For a while, you were completely absorbed in the world of the Western Empire he described, and all your worries and anxieties seemed to fade away.
Okay, that's it for now. This is just a teaser actually, so if you want to subscribe to more tales of my humble little country, you can always be my empress reply to this letter! :D Look out for a white cat near your windowsill during the hour of snake—he is my trained pet, and put your message in his little backpack. Don't worry, he's cute and doesn't bite!
You were so giddy by the end. His message warmed your heart so much that your eyes grew misty. In the aftermath of Naoya's betrayal, you were certain your life would be filled with much sadness to come.
Yet, your friendship with Satoru might just be the thing that would save you.
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No matter how much his friends Duke Geto and Countess Shoko urged him to see reason—that you were no longer available and occupied with your duties as the empress of your own empire—Satoru couldn't help but still cast an eye your way.
You were clearly unhappy, and to him, someone as radiant as you should be happy.
And so, that was why he took his quill and started writing that letter to be sent to your place, along with a rose strapped inside.
He knew that, being the kind person you were, you would most likely respond, but still, the moment his cat arrived back with your reply, he was elated beyond measure.
Of course I knew it right away! I omitted your name because who knows who might catch your cat on the way. Anyway, I hope Mr. Cat will arrive back to you safe and sound. Firstly, thank you for your letter. I must say I'm so happy to receive it :) I haven't had best days so reading it made me smile. And secondly, of course I'll subscribe to your stories of Western Empire. I've been wanting to visit it myself but just haven't gotten the chance to... so if you will continue it, I shall be happy to read :D
If anything he wrote brought you joy, then Satoru was content. He had achieved his goal then.
And it was his own little secret that... by corresponding with you, it allowed him to savor the feeling of having you as his own, if only through words.
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Mr. Cat's name is Sugu-chan after Suguru but you can call him whatever you wish. And don't worry, he is strong and can fight if necessary! And don't be too formal with me, my queen. We have known each other forever. Anyway do tell me, what is your favorite color now? Let me guess, is it still that specific shade of crimson?
You name your cat after your best friend...? And you're making it hard for me to be less formal when you always address me as queen! Hmm, I suppose so. I love burgundy. I've even had my study designed with that exact color scheme. It just gives me the confidence I need, you know.
So you still love burgundy... I'll keep that in mind ;) Frankly, any shade of crimson suits you—you're always a vision in them. Back then and especially during your coronation. I love blue, so I think we're a match? :D
Back then...? Hmm, surprisingly yes, red and blue would make a good match... Anyway, I believe you promised me unusual tales from your 'humble little country', so please indulge me!
You've forgotten it already? Around the time we first met, back when I was still known as "the cursed prince"? It holds such importance for me but sadly it seems like it was just a passing moment to you :( Oh, yeah, I haven't forgotten about it! So, this time let me tell you about the time when Earl Nanami got wasted . . .
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Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Amidst the turmoil of your marriage, exchanging letters with Satoru became your sole respite. His stories regarding his own empire amused you, and sometimes it got you to wonder what it was like to live there.
However, running away from your problems would never solve them. Writing to Satoru may have helped you to cope, but still, your real issue with Naoya wouldn't vanish simply just by ignoring him.
. . .
"Your Majesty..."
For a good one minute, you stood still. Your lady-in-waiting had delivered an earth-shattering news—but admittedly, a possibility you thought was in the cards the moment you went against Naoya.
"His majesty has summoned the high priest to his study," the elderly woman added, close to tears. "But it is very likely that he has submitted the petition for—" her voice faltered when she caught sight of the emptiness in your eyes, unable to continue.
A divorce. Naoya had been considering a divorce. And by now, he was set on it.
"I'm so, so sorry..." she choked out, her voice breaking with sorrow to mourn you, but you remained expressionless, lost in your thoughts.
The last time an empress of Eastern Empire was divorced was more or less a century ago, because she had committed a grave treachery against a royal consort by poisoning her. She was sentenced to death by hanging afterwards.
The irony. You were in similar situation, only that you weren't vengeful enough to resort to poisoning Hanabi. Speaking of her, her baby was due in another four months, and now she was living happily in Naoya's quarters.
"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine."
To consolidate his illegitimate child's position, Naoya used the most effective way. Since you wouldn't listen to him, and Hanabi must be a far delightful companion rather than you, he was more than willing to cast you aside in favor of making her his empress instead.
You thought it would hurt more, and yet what you felt the most right in this moment was white-hot anger. This is unacceptable. It was the greatest insult to you both as a woman and as the empress.
Now, all you could think of was how to uphold your dignity and plot your exit from this palace with your head still held high.
If I can't be the empress here...
And after a sleepless night, you came to a daring solution. And your plan—
...I'll be one somewhere else.
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It was an invitation, Satoru thought, almost in disbelief. Or it sounded a lot like one, didn't it?
Heart beating a little faster and blushing, he reread the latest letter you had sent him.
It's only the beginning of summer, and the heat is sweltering... I'm considering treating myself to a trip to the winery village on the border between the east and west. I think it'll be nice if I have a companion...
Winery village was right in the middle of the western and eastern empires, and it was a safe zone. Vineyards were vast and thick, but it wasn't exactly a popular vacation spot. So, it intrigued him why you would want to go there.
Just as he was about to reply to you that it was a very good coincidence that he too wanted to pay a visit to the said village, suddenly—
"Gojo! Gojoooo!" Shoko suddenly burst into his study, startling him.
"Shoko! What the heck?!"
Lady Shoko might be a countess, but she, Satoru, and Suguru all attended the same royal academy. Despite their prestigious titles now, Satoru insisted that in private, both Suguru and Shoko address him just as they did before he ascended the throne.
Still, she was ruder than Suguru in many ways. Satoru gave her a stink eye, but his confusion grew as she seemed to be delivering momentous news.
"Gojo, have you heard that Naoya will divorce Y/N?!"
"Wha?" it felt like a ton of bricks suddenly fell down on his head. And then his friend proceeded to tell him everything she knew.
"It wasn't made official yet, but even the townsfolk have been talking about it. They also said that Naoya have taken a mistress, and that she was formerly the empress' maid."
Satoru listened to her in silence, but the moment he heard that the Zen'in spawn planned to divorce you, anger flared within him. And to add insult to injury, he two-timed you with a servant?
The fucking bastard. He never deserved you at all. How crushed must you have been, enduring all this shit?
"Now, I wouldn't normally encourage you this," Shoko took out the cigarette she stashed in the folds of her dress and sighed. "But since you never let go of that weird fixation on her, should the royal divorce happen..." she shrugged as she took a seat in front of him.
"No matter how laughable it is, you might have a chance."
She is so right. These long years of longing for your affections and dreaming of having even a minute more of your time... there was now chance to turn it to reality.
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When you arrived at the winery village for your vacation to breathe in some fresh air, honestly, everything was still in shambles.
You couldn't forget the horrified looks from the court when Naoya announced the divorce. Most were shocked and pleaded with him to reconsider. Some from your circle of ladies even sobbed, openly stating that you didn't deserve this fate.
“Empress... His Majesty shouldn't be that harsh...” Hanabi had said to you afterwards, seemingly concerned for you. “Your legacy here… I’ll make sure to carry them on.”
Sometimes you didn’t know whether Hanabi was pretending to be dumb or indeed she was. One thing you knew though...
“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi.” You looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice. “Beware, the Emperor is fickle, be sure to not run out of entertainments.”
You knew you deserved a better fate than being the empress of the Eastern Empire, but seeing those who still cared for you made you solemn. Your loyal maids, those who supported you... and what about organizations you've spent time and energy to?
“My queen, ah, there you are.”
Satoru's voice from behind startled you, interrupting your daydreams. He quickly came beside you and extended his hand, asking for yours.
You offered him your right hand, and he promptly pressed a kiss on it, his bright blue eyes gazing up at you.
It wasn't as if you just noticed how pretty his eyes were, but now that there was no ballroom and scrutinizing eyes around you, you couldn't deny that the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed at you—solely and purely on you—made you breathless.
What... would it be like to have this man... to be your husband instead?
"I missed you. I know we talk daily through letters, but seeing your beauty firsthand is always a sight for sore eyes," he cheekily commented as he let go of your hand. "Now, I get to see you without your pesky husband around, and yeah, you never fail to make my silly heart race."
You chuckled. "You always flatter me..."
He only gave you a toothy smile, and you two strolled the vineyard. For a while, you talked about nothing of importance, like where your ladies-in-waiting were, how things were from his side.
"How do you find being the emperor?"
"It's tiring! It's boring too to look through accounts and oversee those trivial state affairs! And not to mention how many people have been nagging me to take a wife soon!"
"Oh? You haven't been on the lookout already?"
"Nah. No one is good enough, I need someone already familiar with state affairs and such," he said, wrinkling his nose sourly at the thought. But then he cast his eyes on you.
"And frankly, you are my standard," he fixed you a meaningful smile. "No one comes close. If you weren't betrothed to the Zen'in back then, I'd have proposed you in a heartbeat."
Thump. Thump. Thump. Your dead heart suddenly came to life. Gojo Satoru had just confessed his affections for you so candidly, and it got you thinking how much easier your life would be with him. He would love you, take care of you...
And beguile you.
His eyes fondly crinkled at you. "You are everything I desire in a woman to be my wife."
He adores you so easily, so fluidly... and yet, Naoya, who has you fully, is throwing you away.
Satoru observed how your face fell once again, just as it had during the New Year's ball. And now he knew, it was because you were facing your impending divorce.
But he wasn't going to tell you that, instead, he would willingly be your confidant and offer you his very being. He was about to crack a joke to lift your spirits, when you blurted—
"What if I said... I want to be your empress?" you kept your pace, not looking at him at all. "What if I said... I'll leave everything and come to you?"
Huh? What…?
That was loaded. Have you entertained the thought too? Satoru had craved the very idea for so long he didn’t even miss a beat—
“Then I’d marry you.” His voice was straight and true, shooting straight to the most tender part of you that Naoya had torn to shreds. “If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”
No hesitation. It almost reduced you to tears. You stopped where you stood, willing yourself not to tremble. There is still one person who sees this much value in you.
“Then I’ll be yours,” you breathed out. “I’ll be your empress, Satoru.”
Satoru could've sworn time had stopped. If one moment ago, you looked like you were about to shatter, now you were a vision of the dignified and perfect queen he had always known you were.
“I’ll be your queen— your everything.” You declared, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze not escaping him.
How many years had he dreamed of this moment? How many long nights had he endured, yearning for you, knowing you were beyond his reach?
Finally, finally... Satoru grinned, swearing to all the divine beings out there that he had never known how liberating it was to finally have what he wanted. “That would be my greatest honor.”
He drew you close—you let him—and after one second of taking in your enchanting eyes, he crashed his lips against yours.
His lips started soft and gentle, then became fiery as his tongue met yours. He pulled you closer, one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head. You responded eagerly, pressing against him, fingers tracing his neck and feeling the lines of his undercut.
One is finally having the woman he had wanted for so long, and the other was plotting her escape from her misery.
You were using him. He knew it. Yet, he didn't care. Hidden behind bushes and vines, you shared your very first heated kiss, aware that this moment would leave its mark as both the greatest stain and triumph in your lives.
And when he finally pulled away, lips swollen and wet, with a wolfish grin, he promised you once again—
“Give me everything that is yours... and I swear on my life, I will do everything to turn your life into a living dream.”
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“Empress, your husband His Majesty the Emperor, has requested a divorce.”
It was how your once pristine life transformed into the scandal of the century inside the courthouse.
"If you accept this petition, then you will no longer be the Empress of Eastern Empire. You will lose all the rights you have as a senior member of the imperial family..."
You donned your finest attire—the intricate crimson and black dress you had designed and commissioned the dressmaker to create. Today, faced with Naoya's divorce decree, it would be the last time you adorned the colors of his empire.
"The ties that bound you together as husband and wife would be severed—"
Good riddance, you thought.
"If this is not what you want, you have the right to—"
"I accept the divorce."
Your voice cut through the heavy solemness of the witnesses and turned them into a mass of disbelief. You disregarded Naoya's smirk and held the priest's gaze. "And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage."
The crowd was in for a second wave of uproar when you boldly stood your ground, and they erupted into clamors once again when Satoru made his grand entrance and took his place beside you.
"You—!" Naoya was so furious that he roared. "This is my empire!"
"And?" Satoru challenged with a dauntless smile. "I'm here to propose, and since she accepts your divorce request, I believe she has no relations with you any longer and is free to marry someone else."
You remained motionless, until your cold fingers met warmth when Satoru linked his hand with yours reassuringly.
"This is treachery! I won't fucking permit it!" Naoya hollered as he faced the high priest, who had a grim face while observing this three-way headlock between the three of you.
"Emperor Naoya, that matter falls into the jurisdiction of the church." The high priest let out a sigh and then turned to you, assessing your calm gaze.
Regardless, Naoya paid him no mind. "I refuse to grant you any permission to remarry! You will be banished to the cold palace until the rest of your pitiful days! Not only do you fail miserably by being barren beyond help, you also dare to whore yourself—" he was now rambling curses at you before everyone in the court, and it pierced you deeply—
Until Satoru tugged you behind him, so that you wouldn't have to see his face any longer.
"High priest!" Satoru's voice blared as he clenched his jaw, irate at the string of profanities directed at you. "Do you still truly believe that the deposed empress can't remarry? When she has suffered through this man's downright betrayal?"
Your head was spinning. You wanted this whole ordeal to be over already.
And thankfully, even the high priest saw reason, that you were undeserving of this debacle. In the end, his words held more weight than anyone else's, even Naoya's.
"I accept Empress Y/N petition to marry Emperor Satoru!"
In the chaos of the courthouse after the high priest granted your wish, Naoya shook his head in disbelief, looking at both of you with intense disdain.
"You've always wanted that wench, haven't you, Gojo?" Naoya cackled with a malice you would never have expected from someone who had been your husband for ten years.
You had tuned out all the noise. This dumpster fire was too much even for you. But then, you felt a strong arm enveloping you, sealing your fate as the match made in this courtroom—
"I have, yeah," Satoru replied with a smug grin. "And now that she is mine... it's just the beginning of your downfall, Zen'in."
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Your wedding banquet in Western Empire lasted a week long.
True to his promise, Satoru spared no effort to make you happy. The moment he brought you to his palace, he ordered immediate plans for wedding celebrations. Make it grand, make it unforgettable... he took charge himself.
And on the final, seventh day, as you were about to be formally crowned as the empress of the western lands, you were stunned.
"This is your coronation dress, Empress," your new lady-in-waiting, Shoko, said with pride. "Gojo— I mean, His Majesty, specifically has his late mother's dress altered to suit you."
You promised yourself that you would no longer wear any shades of crimson. As much as you loved the color, it reminded you too much of your homeland and Naoya. No matter how much you despised him now, once upon a time, he was everything you loved and more.
And you thought you couldn't possibly love another color until you saw the extravagant navy dress in your chamber. Made of luxurious satin and adorned with literal diamonds, it shimmered under the light and flowed gracefully with layers of brocade cascading to the floor.
To give you something so valuable... You had expected to enter into a marriage out of necessity, but your new husband had no intention of ceasing his ways to win your heart.
If it's with him, maybe... just maybe...
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Today is the day.
Satoru sat on his throne before his court in the grand hall of his audience chamber. His hair was pulled back, and he was dressed in his official attire, robe of silk and a crown made of pure gold.
Next to him, another resplendent crown adorned with jewels and diamonds shimmered in the light—the empress' crown. Your crown.
Today was the day this empire would truly acknowledge his queen. He stole a glance at you on his other side, and his breath was taken away.
With your hair tucked into an elegant updo, you were the very vision of a fairytale queen. You were incredibly stunning, almost otherworldly— shade of blue suited you as much as crimson did, just as he thought.
This day would go down in history. But before that, he would ensure that the news would reach Zen'in Naoya. He would spite him so hard.
"Today marks a momentous occasion. We gather here to celebrate not only my marriage and my new wife's coronation," Satoru glanced at his audience with a smirk, his expression widening as he spotted his best friends Suguru and Shoko. "But also the start of her reign... and as we know it already, her fame and beauty are second to none."
The crowd burst into giggles, clearly aware of his scandal at the Eastern Empire's courthouse. And even you smiled.
Satoru shrugged, playfully rolling his eyes. "Spare me, I'm a newlywed, after all. Anyway..." His gaze shifted to the intricate crown, a relic of his late mother's, and then back to you. "Come."
You knelt before your new husband, bowing your head. The whirlwind journey from the East, your remarriage to Satoru... It had all felt surreal until this moment. Now, the weight of reality settled upon you, almost shaking your very core—
But just as the thought crossed your mind, Satoru placed the crown upon your head. As the jewels settled into place and you rose to face the crowd, his voice cut through the air:
"And here I present to you, your new empress!"
The room erupted in applause, the cheers echoing around you. Everyone congratulated you without fail, and your breath was taken away.
It was a sight beyond belief, as they chanted your name, over and over again—
“ALL HAIL THE EMPRESS!”
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"I have something for you!"
You wouldn't expect that you would ditch your last night of wedding celebrations along with your husband, and yet here you were, led by the hand by a very giddy Satoru.
"Where are we going?" you questioned him, your pretty dress sweeping the halls in a rush.
He turned to you to send you a wink. "Trust me, sweetheart. You'll love it."
Somehow the way he called you made your heart thump a little faster inside your ribcage. This man is really, truly, your husband now.
He was such a refreshing person, it almost made you let go of everything that molded you into the perfect empress in the east, and be just... you.
"Here." Both of you stopped in front of a grand door, and he ushered you inside. "Come, come~"
A study, you realized as you stepped inside, but then a gasp left your lips—
"How do you find it, hmm?" Satoru put an arm around your waist, proud of how the burgundy walls and mats enveloped the entire space, creating a tranquil sight that perfectly matched your taste.
It was so much like your private study in the Eastern Empire's palace. You might now hate that place, but your private study was filled with the memories of smiles while writing back to Satoru's letters and waiting for his cat to come. And to have this now in your new home...
"You remembered..." you looked up to him, almost tearing up.
"Of course I do," he pressed a kiss on your temple. "I said that so long as you're with me, I'll turn your dream into reality, didn't I?"
This man really treasures you, or at least that was what his actions had proven so far.
"You're everything I've ever wanted and more," Satoru said, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a warm embrace. "You might not realize it, but I've been in love with you since you first visited western lands."
"What?" you turned to him with genuine confusion. "How?"
"That blind boy who you led by the hand... he had no friends," Satoru sighed against you. "The first and only person who asked him if he was lost... is you."
Suddenly, you were thrown back in time to your first encounter with Satoru many years ago. He was known as "cursed" for being born with peculiar eyes, had been blind for a period of his childhood, before he awakened the true extent of those brilliant blue eyes and brought his clan to power by wielding them.
Back then, you thought it was wrong for him to be left alone, so you took him by the hand and escorted him back to the palace, unaware that he was the infamously cursed crown prince.
"You made me feel less lonely. And I thought then... someday, somehow... through some sort of miracle in which I regained my eyesight and could see you... I'd immediately ask for your hand."
But you were named the crown princess of the Eastern Empire. The thought of how crushed Satoru must have felt upon hearing the news pricked at your heart.
You felt soft, you felt loved, and most of all, you felt an overwhelming certainty that with this man by your side, you would finally experience the genuine love that had been missing from your life for so long.
"You have me now," you whispered in response.
Unlike your first kiss in the winery village, this time, you were the one who faced him and pulled him into a searing kiss.
Be it impulse, overwhelming feelings or something else... you didn't care. You just want him.
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And wouldn't you know, your new husband... is also a wonderful, dashing lover.
"You're so... fucking beautiful..." Satoru's lips were on yours, claiming them with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, tracing each curves and lines.
You moaned into his mouth, clutching his robes. He captured your wrists with one hand, using the other to tilt your head back so he could leave bruises on your neck in the process, making you moan.
"Keep making that sound, yeah?" Satoru rasped, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. "Keep me going with your voice."
As he gripped your waist, it dawned to him once again that you were here, with him.
Seeing his colors on you ignited desire straight to his cock. His empress was stunning, more so now than ever, more than any woman Satoru had ever seen.
He led you to the bed, his movements urgent yet tender. The air was thick with desire as you lay back, pulling him down with you. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, craving more.
This wasn't your first time, yet you had never been this excited before. From heated kisses until somehow managing to get rid of your underwear and left you in your dress... your body nearly thrashed in response.
"Look at you... An queen of two empires, yet rendered putty in my hands," Satoru wickedly grinned as he slipped a hand under your dress, rubbing his thumb teasingly over your clit. You let out a soft sigh at the prodding. You were getting wetter by each second... and Satoru felt his cock straining against the tight material of his dress pants.
"More..." you pleaded, arching your hips. "More...!"
Any of your wishes would be his command, so he pushed two fingers inside you at once, and you let out an erotic gasp. Satoru was so close to tearing his pants off by seeing how tight you clenched around his digits.
Breathy moans fell from your lips with each harsh brush of his thumb over your clit, his fingers fucking you fast—
"Satoru...!" you shuddered, gripping his shoulders as you became limp and came into his hands in spurts.
"My queen..." he then captured your lips in a brash kiss, and you reciprocated it. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours in an attempt to calm his raging heart. "No matter what."
His watery, sparkling eyes was mesmerizing to you, and you took one breath before you crashed your lips into his, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.
"As pretty as you look in this, I'm going to take it off," Satoru murmured with a meaningful smirk, slowly undoing the laces of your dress. "I want to see you completely naked... just for me."
Soon, you laid bare, and the cold air made your body shiver. Satoru clenched his jaw tightly at the scrumptious sight.
It was almost difficult for him to take in all of you at once—your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, erect nipples, and legs spread wantonly for him. Satoru had been here so many times in his dreams, and to see it becoming reality...
"If back then, you had chosen me instead—" he sounded almost heartbroken, which startled you. "I would have treated you right from the start—"
You looked up to him. "You would..."
"Don't you know how many years... I've been just there— watching you and that bastard? Knowing I can do even more than him?"
"Mhm..."
You rose, tugging him closer, before you unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Satoru... right now... I'm yours."
He allowed you to undress him and soon he too was out of his stuffy royal attire. Your eyes wandered on each part of his body you touched. His chiseled body, snow-like skin, and then the hardened bulge that sprung out the moment you undid his pants—
The sight of his cock alone only turned you on even more. You gently gripped the glistening head, running a thumb over the tip before gliding your hand towards the base of his length. With a gentle rhythm, your hand moved from base to tip in a slow, teasing motion... before pecking his head.
"Yeah... you're right." His eyes never left yours, admiring you as if you were the most precious gemstone, before catching you off guard. While you rubbed him, he snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you so that you tumbled on top of him.
You moaned loudly as his cock—big, both in length and width—entered you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart so he can shove himself deeper.
You felt so, so full, as you pulled Satoru to you tightly, groaning into his shoulder. And he started to set the pace, moving against you.
"Ahh," you moaned out shakily, fingers clawing into his back. To him, the sounds you made drew him in like a siren's song, it made him throb inside you. "Ahh—hngh!"
"Feel good?" he asked, voice sultry and deep, as he thrusted into you particularly harder, causing you to stifle a moan. "Let it out—hah—sweetheart... I want to hear you, hmm?"
And you did. You felt hot. Your unabashed, nasty sounds with each thrust drove him to the edge. With every lift of your hips, you squeezed him so tightly it almost made his head spin. His breaths came in short pants too.
"You fit me so damn well," he groaned, holding your hips hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers. "So fine..."
One woman. It took just one woman—you—to unravel him like this.
"Satoru, harder—" You commanded, wrapping your arms around his neck even as you trembled. "N-not enough... harder!"
He actually had to swallow, because you and your pussy felt so damn tantalizing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
He slammed his hips against yours twice—no, thrice the previous speed, and you incoherently squealed. The squelching sound of your hips slamming against each other, and the immense wetness coming out where you two were joined... it was clear: you were addicted.
"Did Naoya ever make you feel as good as I do you now?" he drawled, sinking into you impossibly deeper, squeezing your left mound and flicking your right nipple at the same time. "Did he... ever make you ride him like this?" And then he instantly regretted his words.
Because the moment he said that, you felt cold, reminded of nights in which Zen'in Naoya grabbed you just to forcefully breed you. You winced, and Satoru caught it.
"I..." you shifted your gaze away from him, and he could've sworn that it was sorrow he saw flashing in your pretty eyes. "I-I... don't want to talk about him..."
Feeling remorseful, Satoru reached for the back of your neck and pulled you to him, kissing your lips softly. "I'm sorry—"
"You don't have to—"
"Tonight, I'll make you scream my name so hard you'll forget him," he promised as he pulled away from you, his eyes darkening. "Tonight, give me everything and I'll show you how a man truly loves his woman."
And he followed through. He worshipped you meticulously, treating your body with the reverence one might bestow upon delicate glass. He peppered kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach, lips and tongue trailing down, his relentless thrusts so well-paced and brutal at the same time.
"I'm— close!" You whimpered, and yet still grinding your hips against him. He was watching your every move, every wave of pleasure that was evident on your face— committing it to memory for those moments when he couldn't hold you close.
You gasped—as a mind-blowing orgasm then ripped out of your very being, your hips faltering as you surrendered to ecstasy with a cry of his name, coming all over him. "Satoru... Satoru! Ahhh!"
And Satoru kept his gaze on your face as he too busted inside of you hard, feeling himself filling your womb with his essence, his hands kept your waist steady, memorizing the way your lips part and the way your body went limp into him with satisfaction.
Dear heavens, I love you. The sight of you was nothing but perfection, and with everything he had, he was very sincere when he said—
"You're flawless, sweetheart."
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2 MONTHS LATER
"If you give me a son, I'll throne you as the empress right on that very day."
The Eastern Empire's palace was bustling as the royal consort's screams echoed through the halls. The day Naoya had been eagerly awaiting had arrived—his mistress was delivering his heir.
Yet unbeknownst to him, whispers in the dark suggested the royal baby was arriving suspiciously early. Many, still mourning the previous empress who had been dethroned so abruptly, were not exactly thrilled with this turn of events.
"My lady, just a little bit more!" the maid encouraged. Hanabi strained once again as the pain peaked and her body spasmed, letting out the loudest wail as the baby finally slid out of her.
"W-what... is it?" on the brink of passing out, Hanabi asked anyone who might hear her. She had to know, for she was so close to obtaining her throne—
"It's a girl, my lady!" the midwife announced.
What?
Her world crumbled at that very moment. A girl? A girl can't be the heir!
She wanted to sob, to utterly mourn, and right at this moment she was full of fear, because if Naoya knew—!
Like a curse, he suddenly made his presence known in the birthing chamber. His face scrunched in distaste at the scent of blood filling the air. He took one look at Hanabi, tearful and frazzled after the ordeal, then turned to the midwife, who was trembling at his presence.
"A baby girl, Your Majesty."
In that instant, fury flashed through him. He shot everyone in the room a glare before his eyes settled on his consort, full of spite.
"You useless tramp."
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Your life with Satoru in Western Empire was wonderful.
He was everything Naoya was not. Satoru adored you, prioritized your well-being and happiness, often humored you, and made your days an endless delight.
And dare you say... you had begun to return his affections as well.
How could you not? Everything he did, he did with you in mind. He eased you into your position so seamlessly, and soon you found your place comfortably at court.
"He is mixing pleasure with his kingly duties," Suguru grumbled, watching his best friend order the gardeners to plant more blue roses simply because you mentioned finding them beautiful earlier. "Empress, you have to keep a tight grip on his leash."
"Well, at least he's happy." Shoko shrugged and nudged you. "Can't you see by now? How much of a loser he is for you?"
You did see him—a man who showed you everything he had. He had given you everything you unknowingly needed.
And you just wished... you could return the same for him. It still made you bitter, knowing you might never be able to give him heirs due to your condition.
. . .
"Sweetheart... what's on your mind, hmm?"
You looked up to him as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, an arm securely around you, sweaty and panting after your steamy session.
With his hair down and messy after you yanked him earlier, your lips curved into a genuine smile. "You look hot like this, you know?"
He clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I am, of course. But no use in changing topics, I know you well enough now."
Your bare body was pressed against his chest, fingertips tracing gentle lines on his skin.
"There's a possibility that... I can't give you any children." You almost felt ashamed saying this to him, unable to look at him in the eye. "I-I... I've failed for many years—"
"Hush," he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his expression firm. "No thinking that, yeah? I don't care."
"But—"
"Children are gifts," he said then, caressing your face tenderly. "It's not up to us to control how it'll take or not. And I married you not because I want heirs or such—I love you, you know?"
Your glassy eyes met his, and you willed yourself not to shed a tear.
He grinned cheekily. "Besides, you've felt it yourself—my sexual potency is undeniable. And I don't believe for a second, that you're what that bastard claimed you to be. I bet he's the one who is impotent—"
"Satoru! You're so obscene—!" you giggled freely and poked his chest.
At that time, you were just relieved that he didn't mind. Though it was still weighing in your mind on some days, you felt a newfound sense of liberation compared to when you were still in the Eastern Empire.
But you were in for another plot twist. Perhaps Satoru is correct, and your doubts are unfounded...
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"Ugh..."
Your stomach churned in discomfort, a sickening nausea that seemed to twist your insides and threaten to force its way up. This had happened for days now.
You wanted to find a physician before Satoru was aware of your state. You didn't dare to hope or speculate, because you were tired of it by this point. You just wanted clarity.
Yet, the physician's words left you speechless.
"Your Majesty... it seems that you are with child," he remarked in wonder as he assessed your vein. "Yes, definitely. You are with child."
It was a revelation you hadn't expected. For years, you had been convinced that you were unable to conceive, but now...
You were carrying a new life. Yours and Satoru's.
You felt like bursting with joy as you made your way to his study. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Above anything else, you were eager to share this news with him—
...until everything you had known turned on its axis once again.
Right before you went past the ajar door, you saw a glimpse of your husband and his most trusted confidant, overhearing snippets of their conversation:
"Satoru, however you look at it, this is tantamount to declaring war," Suguru sighed, clearly at odds with his perspective. "It's not wise."
"We can finally put an end to them this way," Satoru's tone was steely as he moved a chess piece across the map, positioning it on the border between east and west. "No better time than now."
"The Empress will face the greatest backlash from this. They'll accuse her of being vengeful enough to provoke an attack on her home country—"
"On the contrary, her presence will encourage those still loyal to her to defect. That's why I have her here. We need defectors—"
You let out a choked gasp, backing away from the door in shock. For one good minute, you refused to comprehend what Satoru was implying.
. . .
. . .
Did your new husband... marry you for his own hidden agenda?
12K notes · View notes
jupiterpilgrim · 4 months ago
Text
The Pleasure Equation: When the Nerd Solves Everything, Including You
Nayeon x Male Reader
word count: 8.2k
a/n: Yo, my first published smut. I hope you like it. Feel free to tell me what you think.
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You're lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling and wondering why, in the 21st century, universities still think pairing people for projects is a good idea. Plus, you're terrible at this subject. Advanced Calculus? They might as well call it "How to Ruin My Weekend." The only saving grace is that your partner, Nayeon, the biggest nerd in class, will handle most of it. For you, it seems like a golden ticket: she does the work, and you pretend you helped. It was the perfect plan. What could go wrong?
The doorbell rings. Of course, it’s her. You were expecting it—you could almost time Nayeon's nerdy punctuality. And, as always, she looks like the picture-perfect good girl—cardigan, glasses, skirt, that innocent, serious air of someone more interested in spreadsheets than in people. The kind of girl most guys wouldn't look at twice. But you, well, you had to look. It was obligatory since she was going to carry your weight in this project.
You open the door, and there she is, laptop under her arm, shy smile and everything you imagined. The nerd who's here to save your semester.
What you didn’t know—and God knew you were about to find out—is that Nayeon had planned a different type of study for this project.
She walks in with that confident stride that only people who are either extremely smart or who know the subject is your lifeline have. And honestly, you’re not ready for the energy she brings.
“Hi,” she says, glancing around your house, skipping any small talk.
“Hey, Nayeon. Nice to have you here.” You try to sound more enthusiastic than you really are. “Want anything? Water, juice, tea?” you offer, hoping to buy yourself a few more minutes of procrastination before facing the project.
“No, thanks.” She looks at you over her glasses, almost as if she’s analyzing your soul. “I think we should just get started. The sooner we finish, the better.”
“Yeah, better,” you think. And with that, off you go to your bedroom. Yes, the bedroom, because it’s the only place in the house that seems even remotely presentable. There are piles of books (that you haven’t read, just skimmed for the basics), notebooks with ridiculously short notes you took, some clothes scattered here and there... oh, and your unmade but perfectly comfortable bed, where you sit on the edge. It was a clinically tidy room compared to the living room or the kitchen.
Nayeon doesn't seem to care about anything. She sits at the desk chair and opens her laptop.
The project, of course, is about "Modeling Algebraic Functions for the Optimization of Industrial Processes." Or something equally mind-numbing that only Nayeon seems to understand. You’re more lost than someone trying to solve a Rubik's cube in the dark. And it’s all because of your dad, who, in his non-threatening way, persuaded you to follow the family career path. Damn Engineering (and tradition).
Nayeon, as always, is already deep into the work, fingers flying over the keyboard while her glasses slip to the tip of her nose, balancing dangerously between focused nerd and, well... ¿sexy? nerd?
Not that you’d admit that.
She glances at you, and for a second, you almost feel like she expects you to say something useful. Which, of course, would be a grave miscalculation. Literally.
“So, I thought you could start with the part about differential equations,” she says, making the suggestion with the ease of someone asking you to hold a cup, when what she’s really offering is a grand piano. “And then the graphs…”
You pretend to be genuinely interested. Which means nodding in a way that could be mistaken for understanding if someone looked quickly, but in reality, you're utterly lost.
“Oh, sure, differential equations…” you repeat, as if the words held any special meaning. They don’t.
Nayeon sighs and goes back to typing, clearly aware of the level of uselessness you're operating at. She’s probably already mentally dividing the entire project, calculating how many extra hours she'll need to cover for the fact that you're, essentially, dead weight.
“Maybe you could review the introduction,” she suggests, polite but with the patience of someone talking to a child who still doesn’t know the difference between shapes.
You scratch your head, pretending to read the introduction she’s already written. One, two lines. Everything looks very... professional. You attempt to seem helpful:
“You know, I think you’re... um... doing great with this. Maybe... maybe I should focus more on the creative part of the project, like... the presentation design?” you suggest, smiling, as if making a PowerPoint full of silly animations was an undervalued talent in academia.
She raises an eyebrow.
“Design?” Nayeon asks, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “In an Advanced Calculus project? You want to fill the presentation with glitter and stars, is that it?”
“Hey, glitter makes everything better,” you reply, defensive, but unable to suppress a smile. “Maybe throw in some memes to lighten the mood… People love memes... I guess.”
“I’m not sure if you're joking or if you've completely given up on life,” Nayeon mutters, with a short, dry laugh, returning to the keyboard.
You shift on the bed, trying to find a position that seems less like a desperate student and more like someone slightly focused on the project. The silence is broken only by the sound of her typing and your occasional murmur of fake approval: “Hmm, sure, that makes sense…”
It doesn’t.
Then, out of nowhere, Nayeon looks at you again, but this time with a different kind of curiosity. There’s something in her eyes, something that goes beyond pure calculation—and we’re not talking about the equations.
“You live alone, right?” The question comes casually, almost innocently. Almost.
“Uh, yeah, I do,” you answer, a bit confused by the sudden shift. “Why?”
“Just... curious,” she replies, but the smile she gives is far from innocent. “It must be nice living alone. I bet you can do whatever you want, right? No one around to hear...”
“Yeah, kind of,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. “Like... I can have pizza for breakfast without being judged. And play video games late. It’s not as glamorous as it sounds.”
Nayeon laughs, but in a way that makes you feel a bit uncomfortable, like she knows something you don’t.
“And... what do you mean by ‘do whatever you want’?” you ask, hesitant but unable to resist the curiosity.
“Oh, nothing,” she says, looking away for a second. “Just thinking... it must be interesting. Having that kind of freedom.”
She pauses and looks directly at you again, her fingers sliding slowly across the keyboard, as if the project was now the last thing on her mind.
“Tell me something... what’s your type?” The question lands like a stone thrown into a calm lake, sending ripples of confusion through you.
You almost choke.
“My... type?” you repeat, as if it’s a math problem with too many variables.
“Yeah, like... what do you find attractive in someone?” Nayeon continues, her voice far too casual for the situation. She leans forward slightly, her eyes locked on yours.
“Well, I dunno.” You shift uncomfortably. “I guess... someone fun, you know? Someone who can make me laugh.”
“Hmm. And me?” Nayeon tilts her head, her glasses now low enough to reveal her sharp eyes behind them. “Do I make you laugh?”
You freeze, because the right answer to this feels like a trap.
Sure, Nayeon’s made you laugh plenty of times, especially when she freaks out over losing half a point on a test. But that doesn’t seem like the kind of "laugh" she’s asking about.
“Uh, yeah, of course!” you respond, quickly. “I mean, in a good way. Not that I’m laughing *at* you, but... you know what I mean, right?”
She smiles, and you’re not sure if she’s satisfied with your answer or just amused by your nervousness.
“You know,” Nayeon continues, “I think I prefer guys who... know what they want. Guys with attitude.”
You nod, trying to process what’s happening.
“Oh, sure. Attitude is always good, right?” you reply, having no idea where this conversation is heading.
She looks at you in a way that feels almost predatory, and you realize that, somehow, whatever control you thought you had over this situation (even a little) now belongs entirely to her.
“Do you have it?” she asks. “Attitude?”
At that moment, you realize two things: first, Nayeon isn’t interested in solving differential equations today. And second, you probably should’ve agreed to do the graphs.
You feel the pressure of the question like a multiple-choice exam where all the answers seem wrong.
"Now?" you stammer, as if time itself is about to collapse. "Uh… I don’t know, I think we’re in the middle of a project, right? I wouldn’t want to interrupt…"
"Interrupt?" She lets out a short laugh. "I think work went out the window a long time ago, don’t you?"
With that, she stands up, closing the laptop, and starts walking slowly around the room, as if inspecting the space, or maybe just teasing you on purpose. Every step she takes seems more choreographed than anything you’ve ever seen on stage.
Suddenly, she stops, untying her hair and shaking it loose.
"You know," she continues, turning her gaze back to you, "I thought of a way to make things more interesting."
Your brain, of course, is already in full panic mode, but your mouth, as always, insists on trying to sound casual.
"Really? Interesting how?" you ask, hoping the answer isn’t something like "Russian roulette."
She crosses her arms. You realize that, at some point, you completely lost any chance of controlling your own fate.
"A game," Nayeon says, with a sly smile. "Let’s play a game. What do you say?"
"What kind of game?" you ask, already regretting letting curiosity win over survival instinct.
"Oh, don’t worry, nothing too crazy," she replies, shrugging as if the suggestion were perfectly innocent. "Something fun, to relax, since the project clearly isn’t going anywhere today."
She steps closer to you, with that conspiratorial air of someone about to suggest something really dangerous.
"What do you think?" she whispers, lowering her voice. "You up for playing with me?"
"Err... depends on the game, right?" you reply, trying to sound laid-back.
Her eyes gleam behind her glasses, and the smile on her lips is pure provocation.
"Let’s see… How about something simple?" she suggests, her eyes never leaving yours. "Questions and answers. To test what you've been learning in the course."
"Just that?" you ask, half skeptical, half curious.
She speaks with a lightness that contrasts the intensity of her proposal:
"Of course not. For every question you get right, I’ll take off a piece of clothing."
You blink. Blink again. And then a third time, just to make sure you heard correctly.
"What?" you blurt out, a laugh escaping before you can control it. "You’re kidding, right?"
Nayeon crosses her arms, that crafty smile still on her face. Apparently, she’s not kidding.
"I’m dead serious. And if you manage to make me take off everything, I’ll give you a prize."
"A prize?" You try to keep your composure, but all you can think about is that maybe studying Calculus isn’t so bad after all. "What kind of prize?"
Nayeon doesn’t respond with words. Instead, she lifts her skirt just enough to reveal a glimpse of her panties — white, of course, because even in this, she has to be precise and teasing.
You swallow hard, your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Suddenly, the temperature in the room rises by five degrees, and it has nothing to do with global warming.
"Hm... okay, let’s go," you respond, trying to sound casual, but in reality, your mind is a complete mess. Who knew the class nerd had this side to her?
"Great." Nayeon giggles before adjusting her glasses and kicking off her shoes to, let’s say, get more comfortable. "First question: What’s the basic principle of algebraic function modeling applied to industrial process optimization?"
You stare at her. Of course, it wasn’t going to be an easy game. Your brain tries, with herculean effort, to remember what the hell that means.
"Hm… I think… it’s using equations to simplify a complex process?" you guess.
She smiles.
"Well, close enough. You got the general concept," she says.
She starts with the most innocent pieces, of course. The cardigan that you barely noticed she was wearing, because let’s be honest, your focus was more on the project — or on how not to do it... Well, at least that’s what you thought. Now, the focus has definitely changed. Every button that opens feels like a small personal victory. And before you know it, the cardigan is on the floor. She looks at you with a sly smile.
"Shall we continue?"
"Damn right, I’m enjoying this!"
"How do you define an improper integral?"
You blink. Of course, she’d come up with one of those questions you never knew the answer to.
"An… improbable integral?"
She laughs, a clear, almost musical sound that fills the room. If Nayeon were the type of person who enjoyed academically torturing others, she was definitely on the right track.
"I’ll give you a hint," she leans forward, just enough for you to see part of the top underneath her perfectly white blouse. "It has something to do with limits."
Limits. Of course. Yours are being tested in a different way. You vaguely remember the professor mentioning something about this, between naps.
"Oh, right! It’s when the interval goes to infinity, right?" you venture, your heart already beating faster.
"Correct!" She claps her hands, feigning innocent excitement that definitely doesn’t match the way her hands move toward the buttons of her blouse. One button, two, three... and soon, Nayeon’s blouse is off, revealing a black camisole, tight enough to show that she had planned all of this meticulously.
You exhale a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Now, you’re invested in the game.
"Next question: What are the three most common methods to solve a system of linear equations?"
Linear equations? Of course, you slept through that class. But then… things start to click.
"Elimination, substitution, and… matrices."
"You’re getting the hang of it, huh?" she says, her voice almost a purr.
Without hesitation, she leans back a little and, with a slow, sensual gesture, removes the black camisole, now revealing a delicate white bra, almost the same shade as her skin.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, but somehow, you’re starting to enjoy the game, and oddly enough, math too. Well, this is definitely a more rewarding way to learn something you don’t like.
"Now an easier one," she teases, as if giving you a break. "How do you calculate the area under a curve?"
You swallow hard, not because of the question, but because Nayeon is crossing her arms in a way that’s far from casual, emphasizing even more what’s... well, on display.
"Definite integrals," you answer quickly, perhaps with more enthusiasm than necessary.
She gives a small round of applause, but this time doesn’t make any immediate move to take off anything else.
"Very good! But... are you sure you want to continue?" she asks, tilting her head, as her fingers rest on the zipper of her skirt.
You’re not sure if you want to continue the game or skip straight to the “prize,” but whatever it is, you need this girl naked. But for that you need to concentrate, but how would you do it? It's certainly not easy. Not when she runs her fingers, provocatively slow, to the zipper of her skirt.
“Alright, just one more, then,” she says, with a false lightness that only adds to the tension in the air, “a simpler one, I promise. If you get it right, I’ll take off one more piece. If you get it wrong… the game’s over.”
Your mind is racing, a mix of nerves and pure curiosity. After all, how did you end up here, being quizzed by Nayeon, The Nerd™? And now, The Nerd™ was about to strip.
Weird world.
“Okay… ask the question,” you say, trying to seem calm. Just trying.
Nayeon raises an eyebrow, still toying with the zipper of her skirt, but not pulling it down at all, just… waiting. “What’s Stokes' theorem?” she asks.
You almost laugh. Not really, more like a nervous chuckle that escapes before you realize… crap, you actually don’t remember.
“Erm…” you begin, desperately searching for some vague memory of a class you definitely slept through.
Nayeon doesn’t miss the look of panic on your face.
“Ah, struggling?” she asks, her voice sweetly sadistic. “How about a hint?” She leans in, the skirt still untouched, but in a deliberate move, she adjusts her bra, already more revealing than it should be, giving you a clear view of her generous cleavage.
You clear your throat, dying a little inside but trying to maintain your composure.
“Uh, it has to do with surface integrals, right? Something about flows… and vectors…”
“Exactly! Flows and vectors,” she repeats, satisfied. And then, in an almost innocent gesture, as if she were merely taking off an uncomfortable shoe after a long day, she pulls the zipper of the skirt, which slides down her legs, hitting the floor like it didn’t even matter, revealing her bare legs and white panties. Her thighs are even more perfect than you imagined—toned, lightly defined. Your throat dries up as if you’ve just run a marathon, but the only thing racing is your heart.
Honestly, you’re never really prepared for every time she gets more and more exposed. She places a hand on her hip, looking at you with that expression that makes you wonder how you never realized this before—that yes, Nayeon, the “nerd” of the class, was a girl far more complex than any Stokes theorem.
“So, what now? Want to continue or… are you satisfied?” She pouts adorably, challenging you, and you know, at that moment, that she wants you to keep going. After all, she’s having way too much fun.
You take a deep breath, determined, even though your mind is light-years away from any coherent thought.
“Sure. Next question. I’m going to win my prize.”
“What a determined guy,” Nayeon chuckles softly, with that teasing air, as if you were on a quiz show and not in some sort of erotically torturous strip game for the brave. “Alright then… explain the principle of superposition.”
She knew you had no idea. You knew that she knew. But what did it matter? What mattered was that your eyes were glued to every movement she made. She tilted her head, playing with the strap of her bra.
You think for a moment. Superposition… electric fields… sure, you got this.
“It’s when, hmm…” your voice cracks, but you force yourself to sound confident. “It’s when the sum of the effects of multiple causes is equal to the sum of the individual causes. Each field acts like the others aren’t even there.”
She leans in, subtly, fiddling with the strap of her bra, her eyes never leaving yours.
“Exactly,” she says, letting the strap fall with a slow motion from one shoulder. And then, from the other. “Congratulations.”
The bra falls to the floor.
You try, honestly try, to keep your focus on what’s happening, but there’s a problem. Actually, two, and both of them are right in front of you, fully exposed. No matter how much your mind insists that you need to concentrate on the game… you simply can’t.
“J-just one more question, right?” You stammer, desperately trying to focus on your shoes, the wall, anything but… well, Nayeon, and the fact that she was now practically naked.
She leans forward slightly, arms “casually” crossed, and you’re convinced she did this just to make sure your brain imploded. One of her breasts lightly brushes against her arm, and your mind screams something between HELP and THANK YOU.
"Exactly,” she says, and there’s a hint of malice in her voice, that tone that indicates she knows by now you’re one step away from a complete meltdown. “One last question. If you get it right… you win your prize. If you get it wrong… you’ll do the entire project alone.”
Your head throbs, struggling to focus on anything besides her smooth skin and the hair falling loosely over her shoulders.
“Alone?” you repeat, dumbfounded. A simple word, but you can barely get it out.
She bites her lip, enjoying herself. And then, in the most seductive voice possible, she drops the bomb:
“Of course… if you mess up now in the final minutes, you’ll have to do it all on your own. But if you get it right, you’ll see what’s under this,” she pulls at the side of her white panties slightly, just enough to let your imagination spin. “And who knows what else…” Her voice is a caress wrapped in pure temptation.
Yeah, it’s worth the risk.
Focus, you tell yourself, as if that’s remotely possible. Here you are, in a state of complete mental confusion, and Nayeon is there, almost naked, suggesting there’s just one question left before… well, paradise. And hell, too, because clearly, you wouldn’t survive doing this fucked-up project alone.
��Alright, let’s go,” you force the words out. “What’s the last question?”
Nayeon smiles in a way that says, I got you. And of course, she did. She leans in again, this time closer, her panties still firmly in place, but for how long?
“Ready for this?” she murmurs, with the tone of a final temptation. “What law of electromagnetism describes the relationship between the circulation of a magnetic field along a closed path and the electric current passing through the surface enclosed by that path?”
You freeze. Your mind is almost there, trying to grab the answer from some corner not focused on the fact that Nayeon is practically naked in front of you.
“Uh…” you begin, Nayeon sways her hips as she waits. “It’s… it’s…” you struggle. Nothing. Your mind is completely blank, a screen of static.
Nayeon sighs, as if she’s genuinely disappointed. Of course she’s not. She’s having way too much fun for that.
“Need a hint?” she offers, with a smile as sweet as it is devastating.
You nod desperately. Anything, for God’s sake, anything to help!
She whispers softly, “This law introduced the concept of ‘displacement current.’”
You blink, and then, as if by some miracle, the answer comes to you. But before you can speak it aloud, Nayeon leans in again and your traitorous eyes glance at her exposed breasts.
You almost forget the answer entirely, but a slip or whatever that was makes you say, “Ampère-Maxwell’s Law,” your voice trembling, unsure if physics is about to save you or be the last nail in the coffin of your sanity.
Nayeon looks you up and down.
She approved.
Slowly, as if savoring the moment, in a exaggeratedly calculated movement, she pulls her panties down, revealing everything.
Her curves are so smooth they seem hand-carved by some Renaissance artist with a thing for naughty nerd girls. Her entire body is a work of art, every inch of her pure perfection, and as she moves closer, you feel like you’re about to lose control for good.
Nayeon sits beside you, her legs slightly apart so you can see her tight little pussy. She looks you up and down, the same look that used to seem like someone fully focused on her studies, now carrying much more obvious intentions.
"Do you like what you see?" she asks, her voice low and seductive.
You swallow hard, trying not to seem as out of control as you really are.
"Yeah... Very much..." you respond, your voice rougher than usual, and before you know it, Nayeon is leaning in closer, her body heat practically radiating onto you.
"What are you waiting for, then?" she whispers, her lips just inches from yours. The suggestion lingers in the air, and your body seems to move on its own. Your hand rises, hesitant, until it reaches her breasts, your fingers feeling the smoothness of her skin and the firmness that makes you forget about any equation or college project. You squeeze lightly, and Nayeon lets out a soft sigh that drives you even crazier.
She leans in more, her lips brushing yours in a gentle kiss. When she pulls away, her eyes are gleaming.
"I’ve always liked you, you know?" she confesses, lightly biting her lower lip as her hand slides down your chest. "I've always thought you were really hot… and smart, too. You just needed a little help focusing on what matters. You’ve got potential, you just need to get rid of the distractions."
You chuckle nervously, still trying to process what’s happening.
"I never imagined you were like this… You always seemed so… well-behaved." The words come out with difficulty, your mind still reeling between what you thought you knew about Nayeon and what you're discovering now.
She laughs softly, amused, her eyes half-closed as she replies.
"You can’t judge a book by its cover," she says, her voice almost a whispered secret, as if she’s letting you in on something few people are privileged to know.
She then pulls your hand to her waist, and you squeeze, feeling the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body under your fingers. Nayeon’s body fits against yours in a way that feels almost orchestrated. Her hands, agile and confident, slide down to your thigh, in a way that makes your breathing quicken even more.
And then you feel her touch on your groin. It’s a slow tease, and she looks into your eyes with a smile that’s almost victorious.
"Do you want me to suck you off?" she asks, her voice thick with desire.
Your heart is racing so fast you can barely think of a coherent response, but you nod, without hesitation.
"I do." The word escapes your lips, more of a groan than a response.
Nayeon smiles, that wicked smile you would never have associated with the girl who sat in the front row of the class.
"I’ve been dying to," she murmurs, the heat between you two rising with each second, promising much more than just an intellectual debate.
Nayeon kneels between your legs and prepares to take off her glasses. At that moment, it seems like the last facade of the “well-behaved nerd” is about to fall along with them. But you, in a sudden impulse of something even Freud would hesitate to analyze, reach out and say, almost automatically, “No, leave the glasses on. I like you like that.”
She stops, her fingers still hovering over the frames, and smiles in a way only someone about to change your fate could.
"Really?" She tilts her head, clearly liking the idea. Not just liking it—loving it. The kind of smile she gives you is one of someone who’s just gained a new strategic advantage in the game.
"Can you… do it… with the glasses on?" you ask, and honestly, now that the words are in the air, the question seems less weird than it should.
"Of course. If that’s what you want," Nayeon replies, the smile gaining an edge of provocation that makes you wonder if she hadn’t planned this all along.
She reaches for your pants and pulls them down along with your underwear. Nayeon touches your cock, and the sensation makes you realize how small her hands are. With incredibly soft fingers, she grips it firmly, as if evaluating something rare, a treasure she’s just found. Her eyes, still behind the lenses, look up at you.
"Wow..." she murmurs, impressed. "It’s so… big and thick.”
If you had any chance of keeping your composure, it vanished with that sentence.
"Your hand… is so soft," you manage to say, your brain desperately trying to keep up with what’s happening.
Nayeon smiles.
"Oh, if you liked that, just wait until I put it in my mouth."
And that’s exactly what she does. Nayeon spits into her palm, the quick, indecent sound echoing in the room, and starts stroking you, her touch now sliding with the ease of something well-lubricated, almost clinical—if it weren’t absolutely pornographic.
And then, with little warning, she swallows.
Just like that. As if she’d been trained at some secret school of forbidden pleasure, her mouth wraps around your cock, warm, wet, and with a desire bordering on voracious. She looks up at you from below, her glasses still firmly in place.
You writhe in pleasure. Nothing else matters. Not the project, not life’s worries. Just Nayeon, and the way she sucks, kisses, and takes you deep, with a dedication that would make anyone believe she’s indeed “studying” something.
"I’m going to use my breasts now," she says, stopping briefly, her voice slightly hoarse, as she adjusts her breasts, squeezing them around your cock.
Ah, Nayeon’s breasts. Warm, soft, and incredibly seductive, they create the perfect “pillow” as she starts giving you a titjob. And the glasses? Still there, perfectly framing her face, turning this whole thing into an improbable, yet wonderful fantasy.
The sensation of her breasts pressing against your cock is a next-level delight. Nayeon, with a mischievous look and a voice barely above a whisper, asks, "Are you enjoying this, babe?"
You can only groan in response, the sensation so intense that words refuse to form properly. Her breasts move up and down, creating a warm, sweaty pressure that’s almost indescribable. She adjusts the rhythm.
"This is..." you manage to say, your voice hoarse and breaking. "Fuck, this is amazing."
The pleasure builds, a rising heat that seems to have a life of its own as Nayeon keeps working her magic. Her breasts, pressing and rubbing with delicious intensity, create waves of pleasure that only get stronger.
As the rhythm quickens, Nayeon gives a satisfied smile. Her breasts continue to move up and down, the sensation around your cock hot and wet, and you feel the pressure and heat mounting.
You start to squirm, the sensations growing more and more intense. The pleasure is so overwhelming it feels like your body is on the verge of exploding. Nayeon adjusts the pressure and pace, making every touch and movement you feel even more intense.
“Am I making you feel good?” Nayeon asks.
You can only nod, the feeling of being on the brink of climax almost overwhelming. Your moans become more frequent, and you can feel yourself nearing the point of no return... something Nayeon hadn’t anticipated.
Then, just as the pleasure reaches an almost unbearable level, you cum. The first spurt surprises her, landing on her face. She stays there, wide-eyed and gasping, her glasses now smeared with your semen. She accepts what happened and keeps stroking you, and the second, weaker spurt drips down onto her breasts, slowly trickling. She finishes the job by rubbing your cock on her chest, spreading your cum all over her breasts until they’re thoroughly messy. When she stops, you exhale, feeling like you’re in paradise.
“Fuck… that was so damn good, Nayeon…”
She stays still for a moment, her expression a mix of surprise and indignation. The intensity of your orgasm seems to have caught her so off guard that even she needs a moment to process it.
“Why did you cum?!” Nayeon asks, removing her glasses, her voice filled with a mix of irritation and unfulfilled desire. “You haven’t even fucked me yet!”
Breathless and slightly embarrassed, you try to defuse the situation.
“Well, take it as a compliment,” you say, a sheepish smile forming on your face. “You’re just too hot for me to handle.”
Luckily for you, this makes Nayeon smile, the irritation melting into a flush. She relaxes, though still with a teasing edge.
“Tsk. But next time, don’t cum on my glasses,” she says, her voice softer now. “But if it felt good for you, I guess I can forgive it. Just know that I’ll make sure you get hard for me again,” she says with an authority that makes her even more irresistible.
Nayeon moves closer, slowly, like a predator about to capture its prey, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of challenge and mischief. You feel the air shift as she approaches, as though the entire room is holding its breath for what’s about to happen.
“Take off your clothes,” she commands, her voice low but filled with an authority that makes you obey without hesitation.
In an instant, you’re naked, sitting on the bed, vulnerable, your heart pounding faster. Nayeon watches you, a smile spreading across her lips, like she’s admiring a masterpiece she’s about to perfect. She sits beside you with a calculated calm, and before you know it, her lips are on yours—soft at first, then more intense, as if she’s learning every inch of your mouth.
Between kisses, her hand starts exploring your body, moving slowly, until it reaches exactly where you want it most. Her fingers wrap around your cock, and the touch is... electrifying. It’s not just any touch; it’s the kind that knows exactly what it’s doing. She strokes you lightly, almost teasingly, while her lips pull away just enough for her to whisper in your ear:
“Remember that time in class when the professor asked me to help you with an assignment?” She pauses, her lips brushing lightly against your ear. “All I could think about was how much I wanted you to fuck me until I came.”
The effect of her words is immediate. Your entire body reacts before your mind can even catch up. Your cock pulses hard in her hand, almost as if it’s following an unspoken command. She feels it and giggles softly, a sound just as provocative as every move of her fingers.
“Look at you…” she says, her voice full of amusement and a hint of mockery. “You’re getting hard for me again, aren’t you? What a naughty boy.”
Your heart races, and you can hardly respond. All you can do is gaze at her while your desire skyrockets. Her hand moves slowly and deliberately, teasing every part of you, while her eyes stay locked on yours, as if savoring every second.
“How badly do you want to fuck me?” Nayeon asks, her voice soft but filled with a promise you know she’ll fulfill.
“So much,” you reply, almost breathless, anticipation taking over every inch of your being.
She smirks—that dangerous smile that says, "Exactly what I wanted to hear." Her lips return to yours, but this time there’s more urgency, a hunger building with every passing moment. Her hand moves with more intention now, and your excitement grows at an unimaginable rate.
“I knew you were like this…” she murmurs between kisses, her lips nearly glued to yours. “Such a horny little thing, always wanting more.”
She tightens her grip slightly, making you squirm, the pleasure coursing through you with every squeeze, every word whispered like a secret shared only with you.
“You like this, don’t you?” she asks, already knowing the answer. Her eyes glint as her hand continues its strategic work. “You like me teasing you.”
“Yes,” you manage to say, your voice shaky with desire.
Nayeon pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, her smile blending amusement with seduction.
“Good, because I love teasing you…” she says, then leans down, as if she’s about to do something even more daring. Her lips brush against your neck, lightly biting as her hand slides lower, teasing and gripping, leaving you on the edge of collapse.
“Think you can handle another round?” she asks, her voice now full of challenge.
“There’s only one way to find out,” you respond, trying to keep your composure but knowing you’re completely at her mercy.
“Let’s see then,” she whispers against your skin, and before you know it, she’s moving down, her lips traveling across your body, and you lean back onto the bed. She leaves a trail of kisses and bites along your chest and stomach, making her way lower.
She looks up at you, her eyes dark with desire, and with one final mischievous smile, she leans back up just enough to brush her lips against yours without fully kissing.
“Are you ready to fuck me now?” she asks.
And without a doubt, you are.
Nayeon lies back on the bed, slowly pulling you on top of her until you feel the warmth of her body against yours. The way she molds perfectly beneath you feels like she was made for this. Your hands trace the contours of her breasts, fingers pressing gently against her skin as you slide into her slowly, savoring every second. Your lips meet hers in a slow, intense kiss, tongues moving in sync with the rhythm of your hips—thrusting in and out, deepening with each stroke.
She moans against your mouth, the sound vibrating through your whole body, making you speed up a little while still keeping control. Nayeon breaks the kiss, throwing her head back, eyes closed, and you take the chance to kiss her neck, tasting the salty sheen of sweat. "You like this, don't you?" you whisper in her ear, your voice low and husky as you keep thrusting, feeling how tightly she clenches around you.
"Fuck… yes," she breathes out, her nails now digging into your back, scratching you with a mix of pain and pleasure. "Fuck me harder."
You obey without thinking, picking up the pace, each thrust deeper and more deliberate. Her moans grow louder, almost turning into screams, and it only drives you to go harder. You kiss her again, this time with more urgency, sucking her lower lip between yours as your hips move in a nearly frantic rhythm. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room, mixed with her broken moans and your own heavy breathing.
"You're so fucking hot," you say between kisses, softly biting along her jawline as you lose yourself in the sensation. "So tight… fuck, Nayeon."
She opens her eyes, looking at you with a mix of challenge and pleasure, her face flushed and sweaty. "Come on, fuck me harder… don’t stop," she pleads, pulling you down for another kiss, this one desperate, as if she needs every touch of yours to survive. You oblige, thrusting harder, while her moans turn into muffled cries as your mouths stay connected.
But then, you decide to switch positions. Science, after all, is about experimentation. You position her at the edge of the bed, Nayeon's legs lifted and spread wide, her pussy on full display—pink and pulsing, inviting. The sight makes you lose control for a moment as you grab her thighs, pulling her closer to you. With one hand, you line up your cock, the tip already slick with excitement, before sliding it inside, feeling the warmth wrap around you completely. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, mingling with both your moans.
Nayeon looks up at you, a wild gleam in her eyes, completely different from the girl everyone thinks they know. "You're such a filthy pervert," she growls through gritted teeth, her voice low and dripping with lust. "Fucking your study partner like this, so dirty… Do you see what you've done to me? The little nerd everyone thinks is so innocent, and look where I am now, all spread out for you…"
The sound of her voice, the moans slipping out as you fuck her harder and deeper, only makes you lose more control. "Innocent?" you mutter, your breathing ragged. "You pretend to be the good little student, but with me, you love being a slut, don’t you?"
She lets out a wicked laugh, cut off by a louder moan as you thrust even deeper. "I fucking love it. I love how you make me forget everything… I love being your little slut. I’m all yours, and you can do whatever you want to me."
Your movements grow faster, each thrust pulling louder moans from her. You grip her thighs tight, pulling her into you with each thrust, your eyes fixed on the sight of your cock sliding in and out, completely soaked. "Look at you," you growl, your voice dripping with taunt. "So depraved… No one would guess that the nerdy girl from class is here, begging to be fucked like a whore."
Nayeon lets out a long, drawn-out moan, almost a scream, her body arching beneath you, fingers gripping the sheets tightly. "Yes! Fuck me harder, fuck! I want you to know this is what I love… I love being the little nerd only you can fuck like this. Faster, harder!"
You don't hesitate, your hips slamming against hers in a frenzied pace, the heat and pressure of every thrust consuming you both. Her legs tremble, and you keep pounding with force and precision. "Admit it, Nayeon," you say through gritted teeth, picking up the pace. "You love being my little slut…"
She opens her eyes, staring at you with an almost possessive intensity. "Fuck, yes! I’m your slut. Fuck me more, fuck my pussy like I’m only yours…" You lower yourself onto her, kissing her hard, pouring every bit of your heat into her through the kiss as you keep thrusting, and between desperate, erratic kisses, she gasps, "Take me from behind now. I want you deep inside me, you filthy pervert!”
You pull away from her, and Nayeon promptly positions herself on your messy bed, arching her back, ready. Your approach is almost reverent. You position yourself behind her as you lower your head slowly, your eyes tracing the sight she offers—her wet pussy, swollen with excitement, and just above, her tight little ass, teasing you. She’s so exposed, so vulnerable, yet there’s a confidence in her, like she’s fully aware of what’s coming. And that’s exactly what turns her on.
Before making a move, you let your warm breath brush against her skin, sending shivers through her body. Nayeon lets out a shaky sigh, and her back arches even more. “Don’t make me wait…” she murmurs, a mix of urgency and need in her voice.
With a sly grin, you lower your mouth, and your tongue finally touches the slick entrance of her pussy. The taste is addictive, just as you suspected. You start with soft, long licks, gliding along the length of her lips, savoring every drop of her juices. Nayeon responds immediately, letting out quiet moans, her breathing already quickening.
“You… know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” she asks, her voice broken by little gasps.
You chuckle lightly between licks but don’t answer. Your hands firmly grip Nayeon’s ass, keeping her in place as your tongue slides deeper, exploring her sensitive folds. Each time you graze the entrance of her pussy, it clenches, almost begging to be filled, but you refuse to give her everything at once. Instead, you decide to tease her even more.
Sliding your tongue upward, you slowly trace circles around her tight little asshole, making it wet with your saliva. The reaction is instant—Nayeon’s body trembles, and her moans intensify. “Oh my God… keep going… please…” she whispers, her voice a desperate plea.
You alternate between quick, gentle licks, sometimes focusing on her swollen, slick pussy, other times on her sensitive ass, driving her to the brink of losing control. Your tongue dances between the two spots, teasing and pleasing her at the same time. With every new touch, Nayeon’s moans grow louder, more urgent.
“You… you like this, don’t you, you pervert?” she asks with a muffled voice, her hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.
“I love how you taste,” you murmur against her skin.
She lets out a breathy laugh, somewhere between pleasure and disbelief. “Of course you do, I’m… delicious.” And you can’t help but agree. Your tongue continues to explore, licking deep into her pussy and then sliding up to her ass, enjoying the way her body reacts to every touch. Your fingers dig into her ass cheeks harder, leaving red marks on her pale skin.
Nayeon’s moans mix with uncontrollable whispers, each word escaping between ragged breaths. “Please… you’re killing me,” she begs, her voice thick with pleasure, her eyes half-closed in pure lust. “Fuck me… just fuck me already!”
Her plea is desperate, loaded with an almost imperious urgency, and you, with a mischievous smile, position yourself behind her, watching as she pushes her ass higher, her slick pussy begging for more. “You sure you can take it?” you tease, your hands already gripping her hips, but before she can even respond, you pull her back, aligning yourself with precision, the head of your cock brushing against her lips.
“Just do it, fuck,” Nayeon shouts, her tone commanding but dripping with so much desire that you can’t resist. In one swift motion, you thrust into her, and the wet heat of her pussy envelops you completely. Pleasure shoots through you like an electric current, and she arches her back, pushing against you, as if begging you to go deeper, faster.
You start slowly, savoring each thrust, each inch sliding in and out of her, but soon the pace picks up, driven by the uncontrollable moans pouring out of Nayeon. “Faster… harder,” she moans, her voice faltering with each deeper thrust, and you don’t hesitate. Your hands sink into the soft flesh of her hips, holding her steady as you speed up, the thrusts becoming more intense, more brutal.
“Look at you, so prim and proper in class, but here…” you say between thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. “Here you’re just my little slut. The nerd who loves being fucked like a whore.”
Nayeon moans loudly, her voice breaking into wicked laughter. “Is that what you want, huh? To know the nerd loves being fucked like this, like a depraved little slut… Make me scream, fuck!”
With each slap to her ass, she moans louder, her pale skin turning red with every hit. “Hit me harder,” she begs, her eyes gleaming with pleasure, her voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. And you oblige, slapping her harder, leaving red marks as you bury yourself deeper inside her.
“You’re an unbelievable slut,” you growl, picking up the pace, each thrust drawing louder and more desperate moans from her. “You pretend to be so good, but look at you now… begging for more.”
“I’m your slut,” she screams, pushing her ass back against you even harder. “Do whatever you want with me… I love being fucked like this, fuck! Make me yours, make me cum.”
You keep going, your thrusts becoming frenzied, your hips moving with an uncontrollable speed and intensity. “Fuck, look at you,” you taunt, feeling your own pleasure building. “You love being treated like this, like a desperate little whore. Scream for me, Nayeon.”
“Yes, yes!” she screams, her voice thick with pleasure, almost hoarse. “Fuck me until I can’t take it anymore, babe!”
Her body trembling as her climax approaches. Suddenly, she arches her back, pushing her ass harder against you, and her voice cracks as she screams, “I’m... going... to cum!”
Her pussy clenches tightly around your cock, pulsing and shaking as she’s overtaken by the orgasm, her whole body shuddering in ecstasy while your relentless thrusts continue. But you don't stop. Her pleasure only drives you further, each thrust pulling everything out of her, Nayeon’s body writhing, each scream feeding your own growing desire.
“Yeah… Fuck me, make me yours,” she keeps begging, even in the middle of her own climax, completely surrendered to the sensation.
You can feel your own orgasm building, heat rising fast, pressure mounting. “I’m going to cum,” you warn, your voice rough and broken, unable to stop as the final thrusts send you both over the edge.
The feeling of her pulsating pussy around your cock pushes you to the brink, and with one last frustrated groan, you pull out. Nayeon gasps for a moment, recovering from her orgasm as she kneels down on the floor, almost like she already knows what to do – and, honestly, she does. Her eyes lock on you, her face slightly flushed, and her mouth already open, waiting eagerly like the diligent student she is.
You grip your cock with one hand, still throbbing, and bring it to her lips. With her mouth wide, Nayeon wraps her lips around you once more, sucking softly with a gentleness that almost belies the fevered desire etched across her face. You pull out of her mouth, stroking yourself quickly, feeling the pressure mounting further.
Nayeon waits, obedient, with her tongue stretched out, her eyes hungry and fixed on you, knowing exactly the effect that has on you. When the moment hits, the first spurt of cum lands on her warm tongue, and Nayeon doesn’t even blink. She takes it all in with pleasure, as you empty yourself into her mouth, your body shuddering, nearly out of control.
She keeps her mouth open the entire time, her tongue coated in your cum, and when you finally finish, she closes her lips, licking them as the taste spreads. With perfect manners, she shows you her full mouth, eyes full of playful mischief, and then, without breaking eye contact, she swallows it all in one gulp, her throat moving slowly.
“See?” she says with a satisfied smile, as if she’d just passed a test with flying colors. “I swallowed it all without spilling a drop.”
But, of course, Nayeon, ever the overachiever, wasn’t finished. Before you can catch your breath, she leans in again, taking your sensitive cock into her mouth, sucking with an intensity that makes you moan involuntarily. The jolt of pleasure is so sharp that you try to pull away, your body trembling, but she holds you firmly, her mouth working at a pace that borders on cruel.
“Fuck!... I can’t take any more!” you try to protest, your voice breaking, but Nayeon just hums in response, pulling you out only long enough to say, “Not yet,” before closing her lips around you again, sucking you until, finally, she decides she’s satisfied.
When she releases you, you’re left gasping, almost paralyzed from the intensity of it all. Nayeon smiles sweetly, victorious, wiping the corner of her mouth with her fingers before saying with calm satisfaction, “Mmm, Now that was delicious.”
As you desperately gulp water from your bottle, the silence that follows your impromptu "study session" lingers heavily in the air, a strange return to reality. Nayeon had stood up, her hair still slightly messy and a small smile playing on her lips, before heading to the bathroom. She walked with the confidence of someone who had just solved a particularly tricky math problem.
And now you're here, staring at the bathroom door, listening to the sound of water as she washes her face and cleans her glasses, removing any trace of... well, *you*. Then, because life loves to remind you that nothing is ever simple, your mind starts to wander. What, exactly, just happened? Oh, right. You were working on a project. A project that, incidentally, hasn’t moved an inch forward.
Nayeon steps out of the bathroom, picking up the discarded clothes from the floor, dressing herself piece by piece, taking her time, like you were a couple with decades of shared intimacy. She finishes by adjusting her glasses, almost like she’s putting a crown back on after a victorious battle. She sits back down in her chair, opens the laptop as if nothing had happened, and lets out a satisfied but determined sigh.
“Alright,” she says, as if she hadn’t just left you weak-kneed. “Let’s get back to the project.”
You stare at her, incredulous. As if it were possible to get back to the project after that.
And then you realize you’re still naked. You quickly slip on your boxers and pants.
“To be honest, I don’t think I can focus on my part right now,” you admit, your voice still a bit hoarse.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.” She smiles that smile—a mix of mischief and... surprisingly efficient academic prowess. “As long as you keep fucking me, of course. I have to be rewarded somehow.”
You’re speechless for a moment, because, well... you don’t exactly have a counterargument. In fact, it seems like the best deal you’ve ever made in your life.
“Deal,” you say, trying to sound cool, as if you weren’t absolutely thrilled by the arrangement.
Inside, though, you’re jumping for joy.
She adjusts her glasses, watching you for a moment, and you notice that glint in her eyes—a mix of ego, intelligence, and... something else that makes your heart race. Or maybe it’s just the recent sex.
Hard to say.
“But,” she cuts through your thoughts with a serious tone, “no one can know about this. We have to meet in secret. No telling anyone.”
“I swear I won’t tell.”
You wonder how you ended up in this situation, but the answer seems obvious. Who in their right mind would turn down a request like that?
She smiles, satisfied, and turns her attention back to the laptop, as if everything were perfectly resolved.
“Besides,” Nayeon adds, without looking up, “if you need help with any other subject, you can count on me. After all, I think we work well together, don’t we?”
You just nod, but there’s something about her—something between the proud nerd and the bold confidence—that drives you wild. Wild with desire, of course, but also something deeper. And as you watch her, so focused, adjusting her glasses like she’s planning the next phase of a secret mission, you realize that you’re falling for the class nerd.
Yes, she’s hot. Yes, she has a way of disarming you at every turn.
But it’s more than that. It’s as if every time she looks at you with that “know-it-all” air or talks about a complicated academic concept, your mind equates it with something incredibly sexy. And suddenly, your love life has turned into an equation you can’t—and don’t want to—solve.
And, of course, the fact that she’s amazing in bed doesn’t hurt, either.
“Should we meet tomorrow?” you ask casually.
Nayeon doesn’t even look up, just gives a small “mm-hmm” of confirmation, her fingers still typing away.
“Your place again. Same time. Clean up your room... And answer the door in your boxers.”
She glances at you slightly, smiling, and you know exactly what that smile means. And, well, you’re not in any position to complain. In fact, if studying had always been like this, maybe you'd have been the best student in class.
As you walk Nayeon to the door, you can’t help but think that maybe you’ve uncovered the true secret to academic success. And who would have thought it was a sexy nerd with glasses who secretly turned out to be a naughty girl who liked sneaking off for sex?
As she leaves, you can’t help but smile when your eyes meet one last time. Not just because of the deal you’ve just made, but because, for the first time in a long while, you’re genuinely excited to "study" with someone. Suddenly, the academic world seems a lot more interesting.
You close the door, but something lingers in the air. Maybe it’s the smell of your sweat—you still haven’t showered, after all. Maybe it’s the trace of Nayeon’s perfume. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the beginning of one of the most unexpectedly erotic adventures of your life.
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A/n: Please forgive any typos or grammatical errors, English is not my first language. Thanks for reading.
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months ago
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Sebastian (Pressure) fluff. I need it.
"I gotta ask, do you have personal beef with those Squiddles? Because you sure like harassing them with that light of yours."
"I don't do it on purpose! If that damn Angler stopped killing the lights in every big room, maybe I could see my own hand in front of me!" You scowled up at the sea creature while standing in his humble shop.
Why was Sebastian always taunting you whenever you died to something unexpected..only to act all friendly-like in this place?
Well, you had to be grateful he was the only thing down here that wasn't trying to kill you, and that no other monsters could barge into the shop when you least expect it.
So for once, you could breathe easy..
Until he decided to remind you of those creepy squids who were somehow always in your way.
He must get a kick out of watching you perish.
"Oh of course, blame everybody except yourself." He tsked. "You have more than enough clues on how to survive each creature you encounter...but maybe they should've spoonfed all the details to you instead-"
"I don't need this from you." You huffed. "My damn hands are cramped from holding a locker shut against Pandemonium, Eyefestation gave me a killer headache, nobody bothered to tell me about the people in the walls-"
"And don't forget about those Squiddles, hehe."
Silence.
"Okay, okay. I've had my fun. I'll shut up about them now."
"Thanks. You have any medkits available?"
"Right on my tail, buddy. Hope you got enough data."
"More than enough." As your eyes surveyed the items strapped to his tail, they eventually wandered over to the desk with batteries laying out.
But it wasn't them that caught your interest, but rather the file on the table. 'How curious..is this for a monster I'm gonna meet soon?' You went over to investigate.
"Is the document for sale?"
"Wow, you might be the first to ask me about that and be able to afford it! The others before you barely had enough for a flashlight." Sebastian chuckled, clasping his hands together. "If you're interested, give me a thousand data, and I'll have it ready for you to read when you return to the surface. And don't worry, it's all there. So I won't have to kill you to to reveal any information."
You blinked, realizing what he meant by that as you read the folder's cover and why he was asking so much for it.
Sebastian's Document
Of course, you knew he'd be recognized as a specimen, too, but to be put with Pandemonium, the Anglers, and all those other monsters that tried to eat you alive?
For some reason, it made you frown a little.
"This is your file, and they let you keep it?" You turned back to him.
"...I stole it. And I'm not gonna lie...I regret reading it." He muttered, suddenly looking a bit tense..and sad, even, although he was quick to mask any signs of vulnerability when he realized you were staring. "Anyways, it's a steep price. I'm sure you'd rather spend your assets on-"
"What if I buy it and take it off your hands right now?"
For a moment, his ear fins perked up with surprise, glowing eyes widening. But he was quick to give you a suspicious gaze. "Really? You're that nosey about my lifestory? Pretty weird if you ask m-"
"It's more of a courtesy to you."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"I mean..you look like you're carrying a heavy weight just from that folder being there. You haven't stopped looking at it since I mentioned it." You pointed out, seeing his ears twitch again. "You've always told me "out of sight, out of mind" with the Anglers. Couldn't I say the same about you and that document?"
".....using my own words against me, eh? What're you, a damn psychologist?" He teased, although his words didn't hold as much spite or sarcasm as usual. "But no, you're right. I'd rather forget about it forever. So if you want it that badly, be my guest." His third arm made a grand gesture towards the table. "Just don't get caught parading it around. And don't come crying to me when you realize you needed something else instead of-"
"I won't, trust me." You exchanged the data, taking the folder. "I'll be on my way now. I got a crystal to find."
With that, you began ducking down to renter the vent and continue your journey into the abandoned site-
"Hey."
You paused and looked back at Sebastian, tilting your head as you wondered why he seemed nervous again--wringing his hands together.
"Um..thank you, genuinely..for taking that off my hands." He cleared his throat, sweeping back his dark bangs. "I hope that whatever you find in there doesn't..get in the way of our "partnership". I'd hate to lose my number one customer."
Nodding, you gave him a reassuring smile. "You won't lose my business, Seb. That I promise."
"..now hold on we aren't THAT close to start going by nickna-" He began to snap, but you've already disappeared into the duct. "Aaaand they're gone...hmph..well..least I don't have to worry about that anymore."
Sighing, he looked around the shop, wondering what he should do now.
What you did was certainly a nice gesture.
He only hopes you'll keep your promise and not be afraid of him.
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stellarsagittarius · 10 months ago
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✨️🪐 7H in your Birth Chart: How you will meet your Future Spouse / Soulmate 🪐✨️
[Exchange readings open! Me (Astrology) x You (Tarot)] You can message me with your offer 🫶🏼.] CLOSED
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7H ruler in 1H
You will most likely meet your soulmate through a place where you are the center of attention, but this doesn't have to be something grand. Just them coming across your social media profile is a great example. You might be fairly closed off in the beginning to them, almost inaccessible. These are more informal places, where it concerns nobody but you. This is a place where you play an important role with either your looks or your thoughts. "You," are the focus.
7H ruler in 2H
You can meet them when you are shopping. Like this is THE example that came to my mind. Places could be banks, malls, stores, even restaurants. This meeting is more steady, like there is no rush, and there is a certain stability to how the meeting proceeds. Go to your favorite restaurants and coffee shops often, you can really bump into them over there. This is also a place where you get some sort of work done on your body, so consider salons, parlours, tattoo shops, etc.
7H ruler in 3H
You are supposed to be meeting them in a locality or neighborhood you visit often. This may even be your hometown. Meeting through siblings or very close cousins is a thing as well. This relationship can start off on social media as well, more on the side of common interests and communication. This can be that one thing where your person has been hidden in plain sight all along.
7H ruler in 4H
This meeting has high chances of happening through either of your parents or close family members. This is more of a traditional placement and in a sense, more slow and gradually building up. This person really is coming at your doorstep, but only when you know you aren't "closing yourself off." Their is a bit of being emotionally guarded in the initial phases of your relationship. You may quite literally meet them at your home, like a delivery person or someone from service like replace AC or fix wires.
7H ruler in 5H
You are meeting them when you are having a fun time. Partying and clubbing is one thing, and if you are into that then there is a chance this relationship can start off as a one night thingy. Otherwise consider picnics, hikes or even just going on a date by yourself. This is an activity you really enjoy and are doing it for the sake of simply doing it. There is no responsibilities or things you have to comform to. You may also meet them through a kid or around some sort of kindergarten/nursery/daycare.
7H ruler in 6H
Oh this one is like that one character which hasn't been unlocked yet, but are around you all the time. They are a part of your routined life, and you can meet them while running errands, at the gym or while on the commute. This is the hidden in plain sight type of person. Continue with your daily life, go on that walk, go to the gym, grab the lunch and they are somewhere around. The first meeting is going to be quite steady, and everything will gradually develop from there.
7H ruler in 7H
This meeting is going to very special, in a way that you won't feel like someone else has a hand here. You will feel like it's just you and your person, whatever the situation. This could start as a partnership of some sort or a friendship. You will meet them more from their efforts, they will make the first contact. There is no hidden meaning or other intentions behind them approaching you. It's very direct, mainly because they want to get to know you. You can meet them anywhere, honestly, with this placement, but it will be more one-on-one. Like believe me, you won't have any other work besides them when you meet them. It's a great thing to have the ruler of your 7H in 7H, so this explaination definitely deserved a longer explanation. You are one of those people who are actually going to be in a strong soulmate connection that will be very prominent in your life. This is magical, even I don't know how to explain this. Look for any placements in your 7H, that will tell you specific qualities about your Soulmate, and perhpas give you specific insights on the meeting!
7H ruler in 8H
You will meet them through other people or through things having to do with other people. It's like a series of events that other people have you involved in, and then you bump into them. Like your friend asked you to accompany them to a party, and then they are like, "Hey, meet this person. They are very cool!" And that person they introduced you to turns out to be your soulmate. You may meet them though after some sort of hardship or change in your life, like a transformative one.
7H ruler in 9H
You can meet them through travel or on social media. Let's just say it, there is a physical distance between you both initially, and they may even be from another culture/country. The 9H always has a foreign connection, always! You may meet them on vacation or while on a work trip. There is also going to be a very interesting few exchanges, like they are from a different place and so you are, and you will have that natural curiosity to understand each other.
7H ruler in 10H
You will meet them through work or some sort of work network. The initial meeting could be very formal and you may have this tendency to think of your "image" in front of them, like wanting to make a good impression, etc. This is not necessarily a co-worker, that's more of a 6th house thing. They are someone new you happen to connect with because of work, like someone a rank lower or high than you, or some new business partner. Common work is something connecting both of you.
7H ruler in 11H
You can meet them through mutual friends, communities or networks. This is a more relaxed scenario, like I know a lot of people aren't just out there social, but think of it as going to a college party with some of your friends and that's where you find your person. It is not "through" someone, instead you will initiate that conversation yourself because you genuinely find them interesting, and then perhaps you get to know that you have shared acquaintances. It's a social place, somewhere you are out of your shell and making other connections.
7H ruler in 12H
You can meet them through some sort of solo activity. Like it is solitude. So maybe you are in a new country and don't know anyone just yet. Some places are hospitals, retreats, meditation centers, certain places of worship, or even certain abandoned places. It is a very calming meeting, like there will be a lot of peace in this. You may even happen to dream of them before you meet. There could be a bit of mystery to the first few meetings. This is a supposed to be a connection that will help you release a lot of karma.
Check out more Astrology content on my page 🎀🫶🏼.
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another-random-paradise · 9 months ago
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Your writing was adorable! I have a headcanon request for TWST. Feel free to ignore if it's not interesting, I won't mind. ( ̄▽ ̄)=3
Lilia, Leona, Azul (or whomever as long as Lilia is there)'s reaction to crush!reader sleepily telling them they want to marry them one day.
I'm a sap for mushy things. ˘͈ᵕ˘͈
A sleepy confession
Thank you so much for the request, it's adorable!! and of course, thank you for the compliments too! I'm a sucker for mushy things too, so this was so much fun to write!
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Crush!Reader sleepily telling him, they want to marry him / Part two
Characters: Lillia, Leona, Azul
Format: Headcanons
Warnings: None that i can think off
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Lillia
-you probably found silver asleep somewhere comfortable and instead of waking him up like usual (cause you're a good friend) you decide to also lay down and sleep... You most likely had History with professor Trein before this.
-Lillia just happened to be nearby, or maybe he was keeping an eye on silver, yk, like a good dad :D
- If you're napping under a tree, he might just be sitting on one of the branches
-You'd sleepily look up to him on the branches, as the old fae smiles down at you, and you, probably already half a sleep and maybe even thinking it's a dream, mumble out a soft "I wanna marry you one day.." 
-poor guy almost fell out off the tree
-you can't just do that to his old heart!! You can and you did
-his expression would soften, like he'd still be smiling, but it wouldn't be his typical trickster kinda smile (please tell me you know what i mean)
-Despite his usual attitude, I feel like he was very worried about loving you. I'm a huge believer in the Idea that fae usually only fall in love once, so after Meleanor, he believed that was it, he'd never love again. And then you came into his life, like a shining star, guiding him out of the darkness.  
-While he was grateful that he got a second chance at love, especially with someone as amazing as you, it's also nerve wrecking for him. The last and only time before this, he had his heart broken and ended up raising her son. Just the thought of the same thing happening again terrified him.
-But after what you just said, he won't need to worry about that anymore, right?
-Now he just needs to come up with the best way to confess... maybe he could cook you something! 
Leona
-Due to Leona being a bit of a tsundere, I don't feel like he'd get you to cuddle/sleep with him before officially dating
-BUT, if you two got paired together for a project, especially if it's in the botanical garden, chances are very high, you are doing the project and he's napping
-and doing a project by yourself gets you tired, especially one meant for magic as a magicless student, so you eventually lie down next to him
-due to his sensitive hearing, he lazily opens eyes, and sees you, already half asleep, looking at him, confusing him at first not that he's complaining, till.. "Despite you making me do this project by myself, i somehow i still wanna marry you some day" and just like that you're asleep.
-He, on the other hand, is suddenly very wide awake. 
-what?? you didn't mean that, right?? that's just the tiredness speaking, right?? you couldn't have meant that, right? why, or rather how, could you like him of all people?....He can't imagine being anyone's, let alone your, first choice. He's so used to being second.
-For the first time in forever, he is fully awake and can't go back to sleep, just what are you doing to him, Herbivore? 
-But this means you like him back, right? alright fine, he'll put some work into confessing, just don't expect anything to grand
-He'd still be awake once you wake up again, much to your confusion, but still deliberately refuse to help. Not a word of what you said is spoken, but if you look closely enough you'll see the blush on his cheeks!
Azul
-You wanted to rest after a long day, maybe even after a long shift at the mostro lounge, and Azul was gracious enough to let you rest on one of the couches in the VIP room, while he worked. He actually wanted to appear like a gentleman in front of you and impress you.
-You can't convince me that those couches aren't comfortable. Which is why you almost immediately fall asleep the moment you lay down.
-But before you do, you make one last comment "I already want to marry you one day as is, but if it means I get to rest like this every night, I'll buy the ring tomorrow"
-If a student walked in right now, they might just confuse him with a crashed pc; or maybe with riddle, considering how red he is
-Just completely stops everything he's doing, he's in shock. he doesn't believe he can actually be loved
-It genuinely shocks him so much that you actually like him back, let alone want to marry him, but he can't say he isn't happy! So him being even more of a gentleman to you and giving you countless discounts worked! (You actually already liked him before that! but he was to busy being insecure to notice)
-Immediately starts working on a relationship contract for you two, hell, you said you want to marry him, right?? might as well start working on the marriage certificate!
-He continues to be absolutely flustered as he writes the two contracts, if either of the twins saw him right now, he'd never hear the end of it!
-Prepare to be asked to dinner at the most romantic table in the mostro lounge with Azul, where he will then ask you out and discusses your relationship as if it was a business meeting :)
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Ahhhh my first request, thank you so much again for your kind words and the adorable request, I truly hope i lived up to it's greatness <3
I'm still in book 4, so i tried to write Lilia as in-character as possible based on what i saw of him during events and from other writers :)
feedback is welcomed, just be Kind! Hope you all have a lovely day/night!
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f0point5 · 11 months ago
Text
Lando Norris x reader Masterlist
🚨I am currently rewriting this series so please be aware it is unfinished🚨
Only rumours ‘bout my hips and thighs - News of Y/N and Lando’s budding “relationship” hits F1 news
It’s blue, the feeling I’ve got - Rumours about Lando and Y/N heat up. Meanwhile, Y/N is skeptical about Lando’s friendly overtures
You will take the long way - Y/N discusses her secret, and Lando lets out his frustrations with Max
At least I’m trying - Y/N catches up on the new season of Drive to Survive, while Lando makes another effort to befriend her
Gain the weight of you - Y/N ties up loose ends as the stage is set for the relationship to go public
You told your family for a reason - Y/N arrives in Bahrain, and the deception deepens
The jury’s out - Y/N meets more people in Lando’s life with mixed reception, and attends her first race
(They) find something to wrap (their) noose around - Lando is subject to some controversy, which means Y/N has to step in, whole fighting to stay in her comfort zone
You don’t know how nice that is…but I do - Y/N attends the race where she makes an immediate connection with Oscar, and Lando makes an ill-advised move to impress her
You don’t feel pretty, you just feel used - Y/N finds herself in high demand, much to her dismay, as she heads to Australia for the next race
I’m feeling like I don’t know you - Lando’s feelings about how Y/N is spending her time in Australia bubble over
New to town with a made up name - Y/N does a Q&A
Every time you shine, I’ll shine for you - Lando secures an amazing result at the Australian Grand Prix, while neitzens discuss his new relationship.
That old familiar body ache - Y/N is forced to get back to work, which includes seeing Lando
The rust that grew between telephones - Y/N’s campaign debuts while she and Lando are in Japan. Lando searches for answers for what happened in Monaco
It’s hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound - Y/N skips the Japanese Grand Prix and puts her job in jeopardy
Did you see the photos? No, I didn’t but thanks though - Y/N is forced to defend Lando from gossip, while her position as his girlfriend remains precarious
They say what doesn’t kill you makes you aware - Max F weighs in on Lando’s troubles, while Lando finds he and Y/N have a common interest
Lights, camera, bitch smile - Y/N puts on an impressive show at the Grand Prix. Lando’s jealousy gets the better of him, leading to a frank conversation
Don’t you worry your pretty little mind - Y/N reaches out to Lando when he is the subject of online trolling to offer support
I did my best to lay to rest - Y/N and Lando get closer in Miami, but the increased publicity may lead to things being unearthed that Y/N would like to stay buried
I was grinning like (he’s) winning - Y/N watches Lando become a Grand Prix winner
You can’t talk to me when I’m like this - Lando wins the Miami Grand Prix, but a misstep means Y/N is not part of the celebration
I never grew up, it’s getting so old - Oscar steps in to help when Y/N and Lando aren’t speaking
Can (he) see right through me? (I) see right through me - Y/N takes Oscar’s advice and opens up to Lando
Our secret moments, in a crowded room - Y/N and Lando spend time together while Monaco hosts the Historic Grand Prix
They’ll be chasing their tails trying to track us down - Fans speculate when Y/N and Lando are not seen together and she misses the Imola Grand Prix
It’s nice to have a friend - Y/N has a busy week in the South of France, and Lando tries to be supportive as the two plan to keep the rouse going when his family comes to town
I spy with my tired little eye - Y/N attends the Monaco Grand Prix
We might just get away with it - Y/N remains in Monaco with Lando to keep up pretences
Telling me to punish you for things you never did - Lando arrives alone in Canada while the internet finds out Y/N has been spending time with Freddie…and so does Lando.
Love’s a show, but I would die for you in secret - Father’s Day brings Y/N closer to understanding Lando, and letting Lando understand her
Braced myself for the goodbye, (…) but you took me by surprise - Y/N attends the Spanish Grand Prix. After a disappointment, Lando receives some tough love
But God, I love the English - Y/N accompanies Lando to the UK, and he supports her as the quadrant collaboration goes live
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kawaiijohn · 4 months ago
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Help a queer family of disabled nerds
Hey my name is Dante, I live in the Midwest with three of my best friends. We have four cats, one of which is my babyman whom I love very dearly.
His name is Latke Library Card Mango (LLCM). He's very orange and he's the light of my boyfriend, Kris, and I's life.
Cat pics are great right? Have a few.
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A few months ago, latkes chronic bladder stones condition acted up which resulted in two emergency vet visits and a week long stay with his actual vet to get the stone removed.
It was the size of a chickpea.
Here's a photo of his post surgery when he had a nakie tummy. He was very very happy to see us.
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He's since recovered, but the cost of this put us back around 1300 dollars in total. He's now on a special diet with rather pricey food to prevent this from happening but it might still act up eventually.
We've paid down some of his debt, but the interest is making it become more and more as we try to pay it down.
On top of this, our pipes backed up into our basement and refused to work suddenly a few weeks ago. We live in a house that is over a century old, and the clay pipes keep getting roots growing into them that causes them to not drain.
The roto had to come out and high pressure the roots out to clear them (which required expensive equipment), This put us back another grand.
To add to everything, our 700+ auto insurance bill is due in November, which is the worst time for this bill to need due, but both myself and Kris drive over ten miles to work during different shifts on opposite ends of town- neither of our jobs have public transit anywhere near them.
We are currently barely making ends meet-
I am a lunch lady at a public high school. I love my job. I feed kids who possibly don't even eat at home some days. I do work I am proud of.
However, I can only work around 25 hours a week without risking losing my insurance as a disabled person. My job does not have longer hour positions available, and I am too disabled to work more than this without ruining my body like I have done in the past.
I have been going without buying groceries out of fear that what little money I have in my account will be needed in an emergency. I will be out of work for a week this month, around Thanksgiving, and during Xmas break- unpaid due to me working in a school. Me being out also means no guaranteed meal every day.
Kris works in a factory. He is currently working 55+ hours a week to make what we can to pay off the bills and keep our house. He only has one and a half knees that hurt all the damn time and is barely eating either just to afford everything. His factory keeps calling for sudden shutdown weeks with little notice at the worst times, and he's the main breadwinner in the house for us.
The other two in our household, one is severely disabled and can barely work 10 hr/week (he is waiting on hearing back to receive SSI) on top of having multiple medical appointments a week to figure out what is wrong with his body and why it keeps failing. The other is a freelance artist who is working her butt off to make money while carting the previous to appointments nearly every day. She is full up on commissions at the moment, but when she opens them I'll reblog her posts.
I really didn't want to make this post. I hate asking for help. But we are drowning and there's no sign of land. None of us can afford to live on our own, nor can we move back in with our parents for various reasons.
All I'm asking for is some help. I don't care how much. Five dollars is five dollars. Five dollars is half an hour less we have to kill ourselves to make ends meet.
Even if we don't make the full amount, every dollar will help us get a bit closer to paying this stuff down so we can afford gas and regular grocery trips again instead of having to save up to go once a month like we are currently doing.
Our goal is 2000 dollars.
Yes, this is the high amount. I do not believe we will ever reach it. I can hope we can raise this much at some point.
But for now that's the dream number.
It's the number that is looming over our heads, telling us to pay up or lose our home.
It's not something we need this very moment, but just what we need in the next few months to be able to afford living without destroying our body or working three jobs/ridiculous hours.
We thank anyone who can spare a few bucks to help us, and if you can't afford it just pass this post along to someone who might be able to.
Please send as friend/family if you can, PayPal is threatening to withhold money sent as transactions now if you receive over a certain amount.
This includes sending things through my ko-fi account- so here's the preferred methods:
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Progress:
388.74/2,000
Thank you for reading. I love you.
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astonmartinii · 1 year ago
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bad blood (lando's version) | lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x fem carlos ex!reader
band aid's don't fix bullet holes but his best friend might
based on this request:so reader is a famous model who’s also carlos ex (dated YEARS) and after the breakup he jumped straight to rebeca (we just need a tiny bit of bad blood). soo she and lando always got along, ever since carlos was in mclaren. the point is they get together and come hand in hand to a gp out of nowhere so drama and more bad blood surface - you can lead this to whatever you want hehe, thanks!!! - @lorenakaspersen
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
vogue
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liked by hunterschafer, landonorris and 1,209,433 others
tagged: yourusername
vogue: y/n y/ln takes the cover for this month, where she talks re-discovering herself and giving yourself time to move on. copies in stores everywhere this friday.
view all comments
user1: i am once again asking how the fuck that man fumbled a bad bitch like her
user2: do not bring that man up here, he actually boils my blood
user3: honestly thank god they wear helmets in f1 cause if i saw his smug little face i may have smashed by tv
yourusername: thank you for having me hehehehhe xx
vogue: you dropped this queen 👑
user4: not vogue supporting her more than carlos ever did 🤨
user5: at least lando still supports her
user6: i'm glad the friends she made... i.e lando, charles, max, daniel, etc did also abandon her when carlos just dropped her
hunterschafer: you're the person i see in your dreams
yourusername: are you sure i'm not just your sleep paralysis demon?
hunterschafer: you're welcome to stalk mine dreams anytime
user7: how am i meant to care about f1 without y/n?
user8: she's the reason i learnt about the sport but at leats now i have an excuse to support someone else LOL
landonorris: tinkerbell looks a little bit different here
yourusername: i thought you were too old to watch peter pan?
landonorris: i just said that so you would think i'm a big macho man :(
yourusername: that is tragic
landonorris: can i interest you in a movie night some time soon then
yourusername: you might
user9: WHAT IS GOING ON HERE ^^
user10: idk but i am excited
f1wagupdates
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liked by user11, user12 and 4,032 others
f1wagsupdates: carlos sainz debuts his new girlfriend rebecca donaldson at the bahrain grand prix, just one month after breaking up with model y/n y/ln. sainz and y/ln were together for three years, and sainz was seen with donaldson for the first time just a week after the breakup.
view all comments
user13: lol the wag accounts are done with his ass
f1wagsupdates: i am a y/n y/ln stan first and foremost
user14: anyone see the absolute stink eye charles and lando gave carlos LOL
user15: that's the thing when you're together for so long, the friends get attached as well
user16: i mean if certified homie hopper charles leclerc is calling your bluff then you know you've fucked up
user17: i will never understand how he jumped into a relationship with her after three years ?? LIKE IT WAS NOTHING
user18: things like that make me glad i'm single
user19: the thing that is bothering me that no one has said yet is the fact that he's been with her what a month? and he's already brought her to a race when he made y/n wait months to go to a race?
user20: screams insecurity - like "look i have moved on, i'm an alpha male who can get whoever i want"
user21: i never understood why he didn't let her come to races for months when they first got together, like not even his home race?
user22: i've always got the vibe that he thought that he was better than her and that she was using him?
user23: the way if he ever posted her (which was not very often) he never tagged her
user24: which is ironic because she's one of the most celebrated models in recent history, she has millions more followers than him and has a bigger network than him, so really if anyone was using anyone it was carlos using her
user25: anyone else pulling for her to get with lando?
user26: i always thought they got on more in the videos of them all together but honestly i just want her to be happy
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 2,018,552 others
yourusername: not much going on recently
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user27: SHE'S SO HOT
user28: i need her to give me one chance please
charles_leclerc: are we still down for the road trip to lourdes?
yourusername: needed now more than ever
charles_leclerc: trust and believe
user29: charles and y/n friendship you mean so much to me
user30: need her to sit in charles' side of the garage
user31: mother went to the university of servington where she got a degree is cuntology with a minor in slaying the haus down
danielricciardo: miss ma'am, leave some for the rest of us
yourusername: why thank you good sir
danielricciardo: where do i procure a veil as such?
yourusername: i may source one for you if you promise not to shave that moustache
heidiberger: preach
user32: i bet carlos just thought everyone would just forget about y/n when he dropped her, but he forgot that she's probably more liked on the grid than he is LOL
landonorris: why are you staring into my soul like that
yourusername: why are you lurking in my comment section
landonorris: i thought we were friends :(
yourusername: always and forever
user33: but he wants it to be more
liked by landonorris, danielricciardo
user33: I SAW THAT LANDO X Y/N COMING SOON?
landonorris
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liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 803,774 others
landonorris: hostess with the most-ess?
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user34: is that a ... WOMAN?
user35: he's saying he's a host ... maybe he's hosting a friend who is a girl, it's not illegal
user36: i get your sentiment, but that photo is straight out of the soft launch girlfriend pinterest boards
user37: well now i'm picturing lando scrolling through pinterest and asking ??? to recreate the pics 😭
carlossainz55: missing my golf partner, round this weekend? ⛳️
landonorris: let me check my schedule buddy 👍
user38: okay... well someone else tell me that they can feel the vibe shift
user39: it's their first online interaction after the breakup, i think we can guess who's side lando is on
oscarpiastri: someone needs to debrief me asap
landonorris: someone forgot that he owns a phone
oscarpiastri: needed the added pressure of the public call out to make you actually do it
landonorris: fine, but you get three questions and that's it
user40: if the call out was public can't we get the public answers
yourusername: are you coming for my job?
landonorris: you saying i could model 😊
yourusername: i'm definitely saying you should let me give my agent your number
landonorris: you already have my number babe
yourusername: okay pretty boy
user41: i need this type of nepotism in my life
user42: i need the nepotism and the sexual tension cause PHEW it is through the roof
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yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 2,760,521 others
yourusername: enjoy the picture of me fucking up a pretzel
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user46: okay where are the detective freaks from f1twt?
user47: reporting for duty 🫡
user46: what car is that?
user47: it looks strikingly similar to a jolly, but i don't know if that's just my brain pushing me to make it lando. but there is a florist in monaco that wraps their flowers just like that as well ....
user46: thank you for your service
danielricciardo: this is very ballerina core 🩰
yourusername: has the old man been spending time on the internet?
danielricciardo: yes he has 😃
yourusername: omg proud
danielricciardo: no but seriously how did you do it? it looks sick
yourusername: very fiddly, needed an extra pair of hands
danielricciardo: an extra pair of hands [wiggles eyebrows]
yourusername: did you just comment your own stage directions?
danielricciardo: funny 😄
user48: okay i am glad we're not being deprived of the y/n and daniel friendship.
landonorris: i am enjoying this picture of you fucking up a pretzel
yourusername: i am a whore for carbs
landonorris: i am a whore for you
this comment was deleted
landonorris: i am also a whore for carbs (don't tell jon)
maxverstappen1: 📸📸📸 saw that mister !!
landonorris: you didn't see NOTHING
user49: we saw everything. i am so disappointed in lando, he's carlos' bestfriend and he's doing this?
liked by carlossainz55
user50: oh i know this man aint speaking
f1teaandgossip
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liked by user51, user52 and 10,945 others
ftteaandgossip: carlos sainz was caught liking this tweet about his ex girlfriend y/n y/ln and his (former?) best friend lando norris. what do you think?
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user53: the audacity of men never fails to astound me
user54: you know what, i feel like a guilty man only acts this bold. so i'm saying it. i think there was overlap between his relationship with y/n and his relationship with rebecca
user55: you're right and you should say it
user56: carlos got with rebecca within a WEEK of the end of a three year relationship but is angry that she's finally moving on after months ?
user57: for real the first sight of lando and y/n was after at least two months
user58: i know people will say she's in the wrong because it is lando but honestly carlos has no leg to stand on with him parading rebecca around the paddock
user59: i really couldn't give a fuck if lando is his best buddy you act like a fool expect to get treated like a fool
user60: also the whole "whoring around the grid" is so dumb. you mean her FRIENDS? you know the friends she had to make when you would just leave her in the paddock or ignore her at parties ?
user61: babe really thought he was more loved in the paddock and expected everyone to go along with his messiness
user62: men don't talk about women this way challenge
user63: imagine talking about a girl you were with for THREE tears like this
user64: i wish lando and y/n all the best and i hope they're together for a long time, she deserves a good man after all of this
user65: i have faith 🤞
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 3,109,413 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: sloppy seconds you say? i never come second with him. pun intended x
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user66: SERVE
user67: user67 found dead in her home, cause of death: this post
landonorris: what can i say i'm a giver 🤷‍♂️
yourusername: i'll say 😮‍💨
oscarpiastri: ENOUGH
landonorris: i thought you were happy for us oscar :(
oscarpiastri: i am !! i even took the second picture. but i think you forget that i am staying with you in monaco :/
yourusername: whoops my bad
landonorris: i swear my hospitality is usually better
yourusername: i can attest to his hospitality
oscarpiastri: STOP PLEASE STOP
user68: poor oscar being traumatised by y/n and lando 😭
carlossainz55: real mature
yourusername: how about instead of liking shady tweets and commenting on my instagram posts, you come confront me like a real fucking person.
carlossainz55: you'd love that wouldn't you
yourusername: i really would because if i said everything you needed to hear i'd be banned from this app
carlossainz55: you really are the gold digging slut my parents warned me about
landonorris: you will absolutely not talk to her that way. if you do so again we'll have a very real problem
carlossainz55: you have no sense of loyalty lando
landonorris: the call is coming from inside the house
user69: the girls are FIGHTING
comments on this post have been limited.
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landonorris
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,866,398 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: nothing better than a podium at home and time with family
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user72: the sky camera shady as fuck for cutting straight to y/n in the mclaren garage when carlos crashed LOL
user73: her and lando's dad trying not to laugh had me creasing
yourusername: beyond proud of you baby
landonorris: your support means everything pretty girl
yourusername: and your family are the loveliest, tell mama i said thank you for having me (and my sandwiches for the plane)
landonorris: she say's thank you and come back soon (i also want you to come home asap)
user74: he already refers to his house at their home
user75: and y/n has been accepted by the family - the sainzs could take notes
oscarpiastri: oscar piastri erasure
yourusername: sorry osc, you're our favourite pookie on the grid
landonorris: also mama made you sandwiches too
oscarpiastri: i know they were very yummy 😋
danielricciardo: HOLD ON, oscar is your favourite pookie, where am i ???
maxverstappen1: i think you'll find i am their favourite full stop
charles_leclerc: nuh uh it's clearly me
yourusername: i'll just say lando is my favourite
landonorris: and i'll say y/n is my favourite
yourusername: and that's that
danielricciardo: boooooooo.
maxverstappen1: cop out :(
charles_leclerc: 🍅🍅🍅
user76: i am so confused right now
yourusername
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liked by bellahadid, landonorris and 3,109,766 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: you are in love, true love.
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user77: omg the letters? i swear there were letters in her first post after carlos took rebecca to the first race of the season
user78: wait so do you think they were from lando the whole time?
yourusername: yes they are from lando ! after the carlos stuff had somewhat died down he had them all delivered to me and it definitely swayed me for a first date
user79: but i thought some of those letters looked pretty old
landonorris: i won't deny that i liked y/n for a long time but i obviously couldn't express that so i put them in letters. an idiot was an idiot and i'll never not take my chance
user80: okay that makes this whole thing so much cuter
user81: y/n is the definition of never letting your boyfriend stop you from finding your husband
landonorris: you're my best friend and i love you so much
yourusername: i'd go through all this mess and all this heartbreak again if it meant i still end up with you
landonorris: but i'm by your side forever now you can't get rid of me
yourusername: i wouldn't dream of it
user82: lord i have seen it all, please bless me with a relationship like this
danielricciardo: god you people are ridiculously cute
oscarpiastri: just think yourself lucky that you no longer share a garage with them
landonorris: we're not THAT bad
oscarpiastri: i have working ears
yourusername: sorry not sorry osc x
fin.
note: hope you all enjoyed. i am dying trying to do 75 soft but i also signed up for burlesque class !!
3K notes · View notes
fushigurokogane · 20 days ago
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~ Megumi Fushiguro Headcannons ~
hiii lovess~!! This is my first post on tumblr so BARE with me!! I hope you guys like these headcannons of our favorite EMO MANNN!!
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~ Megumi is the type to show his love through actions rather than words. He may not be the most openly affectionate, but his protective instincts are off the charts. Whether it's making sure you're safe during dangerous situations or just being there when you need him, you’ll always feel his quiet support. If you're ever in a tight spot, he'll make sure you're safe without making a fuss. “Stay close to me. I’m not letting anything happen to you,” he’ll say with a calm but firm tone. If a situation arises where you’re in danger, he won’t hesitate to step in, reassuring you with, “I’ll handle this. You just focus on staying safe.”
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~ When Megumi gives you compliments, they’re never over the top or cheesy. Instead, he’ll casually tell you, “You look nice today,” or “I like the way you think.” It’s not flashy, but it’s sincere, and you can always tell he means it. He doesn’t like to draw too much attention to it, but you’ll catch him giving you a soft smile and saying, “You look good today. Not that you don’t always, but today... it’s different.” Or, when you’ve just come up with a good idea, he might say, “I like how you think. You always know what to say.”
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~ Megumi prefers quiet, low-key dates. Maybe a walk in the park, sitting at a quiet café, or going to a bookstore. He’s not one for big crowds or flashy outings, but he enjoys spending time with you in peaceful settings where he can focus on you without distractions. He enjoys the silence as much as the conversation. “I like this. Just us... no need for anything fancy,” he’ll say, glancing at you with a rare, warm smile. If you stop to look at something, he might add, “I’ll wait here. You take your time looking around.”
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~ When you’re feeling down, Megumi is the type to sit with you in silence, offering his presence more than words. If you need someone to vent to, he listens patiently and gives sound advice without being too overwhelming. He doesn’t need to solve everything, but he’s there when you need him. He’ll sit by your side, saying, “You don’t have to say anything. I’m right here,” in a voice full of quiet support. If you start to share your thoughts, he’ll nod and respond with something like, “I know it’s tough right now. Take it slow, okay?”
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~ Megumi respects your autonomy and space. He’s not the type to cling to you or act jealous. Instead, he’s supportive of your goals and interests, even if they don’t always overlap with his. He appreciates your independence and doesn’t feel the need to be in your business 24/7. He’ll reassure you, “You don’t have to check in every second. I trust you.” If you mention needing some alone time, he might respond with, “I get it. You need time for yourself. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”
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~ Though he’s serious most of the time, Megumi has his playful side that comes out around you. Whether it’s teasing you in a light-hearted way or showing off his random little quirks, he can be surprisingly fun once he feels comfortable. He might nudge you with a smirk, saying, “You really think you can beat me? Let’s see about that.”
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~ Megumi is more in tune with your emotional state than he lets on. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, he’s the type to step in and help without hesitation, whether it’s through a comforting gesture or just taking care of things on your behalf. He doesn’t like seeing you stressed and will do what he can to make things easier for you. He’ll gently say, “You don’t need to carry all of that alone. Let me help.” Or, if you seem particularly stressed, he’ll comfort you with, “You’re stressed. I can see it. Take a breath. I’ve got it from here.”
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~ He’s not one for grand gestures of affection, but Megumi has his ways of showing how much he cares. From the gentle way he touches your arm to the occasional shoulder rub when you're tense, his physical affection is subtle but full of meaning. When he holds your hand, it’s with a sense of quiet trust. He’ll offer his hand and say, “You can hold my hand if you want. I don’t mind,” or, in a quiet moment, “It’s just... I feel better when you’re close.”
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~ Megumi isn’t the type to show jealousy openly. If he feels threatened by someone’s attention toward you, he’ll internalize it and try to focus on keeping his cool. But, if he gets too worked up, he might get a little more protective over time, making sure you're always by his side. He might downplay his feelings with, “Don’t worry, I’m not jealous. I just don’t like seeing you get too close to someone who doesn’t have your back.” If it continues, he’ll lean in and say, “I’m fine. Just... stay by me, okay?”
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~ Megumi can be a little awkward when it comes to public displays of affection. He’s not someone who enjoys showing off his relationship in front of others, and he prefers to keep things low-key. However, in private, he can be quite affectionate in his own subtle way, like giving you a quick kiss on the forehead or cuddling up next to you during a movie. When you’re out together, he’ll say with a slight blush, “We don’t have to hold hands in front of everyone, but... I don’t mind when it’s just us.” After a kiss on your forehead, he might add, “Don’t read into it. I just wanted to do that.”
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~ Megumi takes your words seriously, even the small things. Whether you’re talking about something that happened during your day or telling him about a random thought, he listens and engages with what you say, showing you that your opinions and feelings matter to him. When you share something on your mind, he’ll respond thoughtfully, saying, “That sounds like it was rough. What do you think you should do about it?” Or, if you keep talking, he’ll encourage you with, “I’m listening. Keep going. What happened next?”
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~ When you're feeling under the weather or stressed, Megumi will step in and take care of you without hesitation. He’s the kind of boyfriend who’ll grab your favorite snacks, bring you water, or just stay with you, making sure you're comfortable and rested. He’ll come over and quietly say, “Here’s some water. I’ll stay with you until you feel better.” If you need anything else, he might add, “You need anything else? Just let me know. I’ve got you.”
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~ Megumi respects when you need your own space. He doesn’t take it personally if you need time to recharge, and he uses that time to reflect or work on his own things. It’s not about distancing, but about understanding that being together sometimes means giving each other the space to grow individually. He’ll reassure you with, “I know you need some time. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” If you’re taking a break, he’ll tell you, “Take your time. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
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~ Megumi finds peace in your presence, even if he’s quiet or a little reserved. Just being around you is enough to help him unwind, whether it’s reading together, having a silent dinner, or simply lying in bed beside each other. He appreciates the stillness you bring to his often chaotic life. He’ll look at you with a content expression and say, “It’s nice, just... being here with you.” On more quiet days, he might murmur, “I don’t need to go anywhere. I’m happy just sitting here with you.”
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~ While he might not be the loudest or most expressive boyfriend, Megumi is the steady rock you can lean on. His consistency and reliability are a testament to his feelings for you, and no matter what challenges come your way, you can count on him to be there for you in his own quiet way. When times are tough, he’ll say with calm assurance, “I’m not going anywhere. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.” Or, when you need reassurance, he’ll quietly tell you, “It’s okay. You don’t have to do it alone. I’ve got your back.”
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DID YOU GUYS ENJOYYY??? I might make headcannon for yuji too!! So if you want one LET ME KNOWW!! ILY U SM POOKIES BAI BAIII~~!!
love, ✭ Nika ✭
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bigfootsboytoy · 2 years ago
Text
Part two of this story, where Robin discovers Steve’s type. A lot of people seemed interested in more, so here you go! 
The conversation doesn’t go quite the way Robin is expecting it. She’s fully prepared for Steve to launch into saying how confused he is because he’s feeling weird pants feelings for Eddie, but how does that work because he likes girls? She’s been mentally preparing herself for that exact discussion since she watched Eddie Munson call her best friend ‘Big Boy’ in the middle of committing grand theft auto. So when Steve starts talking, curled up on the gross linoleum tile of Family Video, she’s taken by surprise. She doesn’t even get the chance to answer his question before he’s throwing her prepared speech out the metaphorical window. 
“That’s stupid, you already told me that. Sharon Parker in the 5th grade, holding hands for Red Rover, blah blah blah, I know that. But like…Have you ever acted different around a girl, and then one day, you realize it’s because you like her? Like, you had a crush on a girl without even realizing it? Does that make any sense?” 
It takes Robin a second to reboot, but the second she manages, Steve throws her even further off track. 
“It’s just, Tommy H came by the other day, and he said some stuff that really has me thinking and-” 
Robin can’t stop herself. As soon as she hears a name other than Eddie Munson, she has a hand out covering Steve’s mouth. He gives her a look, surprised and confused. Maybe a little annoyed. She valiantly ignores him because what he just said has her head spinning, and she needs to put a stop to it right now. 
“Steve. My best friend in the whole universe. I’m here for whatever you need and whatever you might be figuring out about yourself. You know I’m going to support you 100% no matter what happens but…Please. PLEASE tell me that you didn’t just discover you have a crush on TOMMY H! He isn’t even your type, Steve! He isn’t even in the ballpark of your type! He’s so far off it’s honestly kind of laughable and-” 
Now it’s Steve who puts a hand over her mouth. 
“Jesus, Robin! First of all, gross. I’m not into Tommy, okay? Never gonna happen, not in a million years. And second, what the hell do you mean ‘my type?’ What the hell would you know about my type?” 
Robin carefully removes his hand from her face and shakes her head. She has absolutely no clue where this conversation is going, but there’s still a chance it can work its way somewhere good. Somewhere Munson-related. And she owes it to Steve to listen to his crisis properly. 
“Nevermind, forget that. What happened with Tommy?” 
“Okay well, he came over, like I said. He was super wasted, and I guess he and Carol broke up? And he started talking about when we were friends, and how he always used to try and get closer to me. He said he almost asked me if I wanted to practice kissing once? And he talked about like, trying to touch me all the time, trying to make me laugh? Basically saying he had a crush on me, which was super weird.” 
Robin nodded, because really, she had no idea what to say to that. 
“And then he kissed me. Which was kind of gross because he tasted like whisky and he was being all sloppy, like he wanted to eat my face. But…” 
“But?” 
“It wasn’t as gross as I would have expected I guess.” 
“I thought you said you didn’t like him!” 
“I don’t! It just, wasn’t a totally horrible kiss okay? Only a little horrible.” 
Robin sighed and let her head tip back against the wall. 
“Okay, I’m not seeing your dilemma yet. Tommy liking you and kissing you is kind of weird sure, but it doesn’t change anything about you.” 
Steve’s eyebrows furrowed, and he let out a puff of air. He looked small in this bathroom, scared in a way that Robin hated. They had faced down monsters, torture, long shifts with Keith. A conversation with his best friend should never have Steve looking that afraid, ever. 
She reached out and took his hand in her, giving it a gentle squeeze. 
“Hey, it’s okay Steve. Tell me what’s going on in that head.” 
“It’s just…Some of what Tommy said. About how he tried to get closer to me, to touch me and make me laugh and shit? I guess I realized that I’m doing that stuff. With somebody else. And if Tommy did it because he liked me then…” 
“You think it might mean you like this person. This…guy?” 
“Yeah. This guy.” 
There it was, the Eddie Munson of it all. Because Robin only knew of one guy that Steve spent his time with and would be trying to be touchy and close with. She had watched it happen with her own eyes, the way Steve would look for reasons to lean past Eddie, to put a hand on his shoulder, his back, once getting brave and putting a hand on his waist. She’d watched Eddie do the exact same things around Steve, too.
Part of her almost just comes out and tells Steve, that she knows who he’s talking about. Except he still looks unsure. He looks like he wants to throw up a little, and Robin has to fix that. 
“You know it’s okay right? For you to like this guy?” 
“I know. It’s just weird, to realize I might like him that way. Normally I can figure out when I’m into someone.” 
“Well, normally you aren’t friends with the people you’re into first. That makes it confusing.” 
“And I’m normally into people with boobies.” 
“That too.” 
Steve lets out a tiny laugh, and it makes Robin beam. Something about Steve is lighter now, like somethings been lifted off his chest, something that’s been there for a really long time without him knowing. She wants to tell him how much she’s loves him. How much she cares about him and supports him. She wants to tell him about all her research, and fully explain to him her findings when it comes to ‘his type.’ 
She wants to tell him that she knows the guy he likes is Eddie. That she thinks Eddie might like him too. 
The ‘ring for service’ bell ruins her chance at saying any of it. 
She and Steve both clamber off the floor, adjusting their vests before exiting the bathroom to greet whoever keeps ringing the stupid bell over and over again. Robin can’t decide if it’s the best luck in the world, or the worst, when it’s Eddie Munson himself standing at the counter. 
She leans towards best luck when she sees the way Steve’s cheeks go red.
A few people asked to be tagged if I did a part 2, so hopefully I do that right! I’ve got a few more parts planned, so if anybody else wants to be tagged let me know and I’ll do my best!
@kaiscove​ @wolfstarlights​  @awkwardgravity1​ @anonymousbandgirl​  @f1ct1onwh0re
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hardlyinteresting · 1 month ago
Text
Nobody's son. Nobody's daughter.
Jake Seresin x Reader
Returning home to Texas for any time has always meant visiting his aunt and uncle. As a kid, their large estate outside of Houston had been an exciting opportunity to sample the finer side of life. Rubbing elbows with businessmen and their rich wives. Still, he feels he's little more than a toy soldier at these events. Perhaps he's found someone who knows exactly how it feels to masquerade.
Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey Wondering Why by The Red Clay Strays Cowboy Like Me by Taylor Swift Moodboard for this fic
Warnings: If you know me in real life do not read this, The reader is referred to as she/her, with no physical description, fake dating-ish, rich people, smut (oral m+f receiving), (please let me know if you'd like me to tag anything please) Word Count: 6.5K Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler
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Champagne bubbles sparkle as another perfunctory conversation fizzles into more ostensible laughter. Jake stands idle, nodding and responding with an easygoing politeness when required, while scanning the room for his uncle. He's always had little patience for people feigning interest in the lives of others, or masquerading in curated caricatures of intriguing lives. His eyes have never cared to be distracted by the glitter of diamonds, or the flash of gold wristwatches. Taking another sip of his drink he finds himself rather bored in this room of pretenders. 
Returning home to Texas for any time has always meant visiting his aunt and uncle. As a kid, their large estate outside of Houston had been an exciting opportunity to sample the finer side of life. Horses were kept for hobby riding rather than ranching; lush green land without a cow in sight; and a backyard swimming pool. As he got older his presence was requested at their swanky cocktail parties. He was rubbing elbows with businessmen and their rich wives. His military career has become a talking point for his relatives and he feels the eyes of the room on him wherever he floats through the grand house. “Your uncle is proud of you,” his mother always insists her brother means the best, “your grandfather was a pilot too, you know. It's in your blood”.  Still, he feels he's little more than a toy soldier at these events. 
Setting his empty glass down on a tray Jake is determined to find his uncle and make an excuse to leave early. As somewhat expected his uncle Robert is chatting with his business partner, Mr Bell. From what Jake can remember from previous encounters, he's a nice enough man, but he can only hope he's not dragged into more small talk before he manages to escape. It’s the Bells who are hosting tonight’s cocktail party, and Jake accepts that an early excusal might not be possible.
 Beside the two older gentlemen stands a young woman. She's gorgeous standing by the glow of the fireplace. He finds his feet moving him in their direction before he has a moment to consider what he might say when he gets there. Immediately, she reminds him of some kind of goddess. It's silly, childish even. But still, he can't help it. Curves highlighted and hidden in the same artful drapes of deep cherry silk of her dress. Her eyes shimmer like focused jewels as she follows the conversation happening next to her. Her shoulders relaxed in an easy elegant posture. He entertains the idea of a world where a man like him might paint her likeness on his aircraft. Comforted by her calm demeanour, and perpetual in awe of her stunning features. 
“Jake,” his uncle waves him over, “you remember my friend George Bell”. 
“Mister Bell,” Jake greets with a handshake, “it's nice to see you again. Thank you for inviting me tonight, sir”.His posture is perfect as the older man nods and claps him on the shoulder. “I believe you were just about twelve the last time you were here. You’ll have to join me in the library later for a drink”. He has no interest in staying any longer than he has to, but a glass of whiskey from a bottle worth a month of his salary, and a round of pool may serve to soften the obligation of his presence. “Yes, sir,” he accepts, and then his attention shifts entirely to her. 
He’s seen this young woman in photographs and painted portraits throughout the house, though he’s certain now the images do her no justice. He’s bold to assume her identity, and it will surely bite him in the ass if he’s wrong, but he feels certain she must be Mr. Bell’s daughter, and he greets her accordingly, “Miss Bell”.
“Lieutenant Seresin,” she smiles, “it's a pleasure to meet you”. He shouldn't be so pleased that she knows who he is, but he finds himself pushing out his chest with pride. “The pleasure is all mine,” he assures her. Her smile grows, a fantastically playful glint in her eyes that tells him she's excited to be speaking to someone she considers to be a peer. “Then it's an honour,” she insists, “if half the stories I've been told are true, you're very accomplished, Lieutenant”. 
In most scenarios like this, Jake has gotten good at walking the line between exaggeration and faux modesty, any attempt to shift the conversation away from himself, yet today she allows her to tease him. “Call me Jake, please”.
“Only if you insist”.
“I do,” he says, urging some level of familiarity to grow between them as they're both dragged into another round of bromidic small talk. 
He endures the conversation about the weather, and fields questions about what the temperatures are in California at this time of year. He gracefully sidesteps conversations about his job, and his politics, artfully avoiding escalating discussions as easily as he had mastered lag pursuit maneuvers in his first year of flight school. With each opportunity to make her laugh he manages to succeed, only fueling his desire to do it again. 
It's too soon that she's called away to speak with a group of women across the room. He kicks himself for not engaging her in more direct conversation, and wonders if the stolen glances, and the subtle wink he'd shot her way were enough to convey his interest. It's stupid, like a middle school crush, and he knows he couldn't have just asked her out in front of her father and his uncle. He’d hate to look untoward in their company. But, the missed opportunity burns nonetheless. 
An entirely unexpected fortuity is all but handed to him on a silver platter when he's asked to join Mr. Bell for a game of pool in the library. The older man pours him a generous glass of scotch before speaking. 
“I have a favour to ask you, Jake”. 
“I'm happy to help if can, sir,” Jake responds easily, though he can't help but find himself growing nervous by the prospect and any potential implications. He briefly envisions himself, ending up as muscle for hire, taking out an unsavoury business associate, his dreams of becoming an admiral slashed as he ends up on the wrong side of the wrong people. 
His anxieties are quickly replaced by absolute surprise at the words Mr. Bell speaks next, 
“I'd like for you to escort my daughter to the theatre this weekend,” there's an unexpected vulnerability as he continues, “My wife and I will be out of town, and since her engagement was called off she worries that people will talk-- you know how it is”.
In all honesty, Jake cannot say he does know how it is, but he can imagine. His aunt had been talking about some young woman of some kind of societal importance who had been jilted weeks before her wedding. He hadn't been paying attention at the time, far more interested in the apple pie he was eating and the football game on TV. From what he can recall rumours were running wild, but no one had the full story. He understands now that Bell's daughter must be the woman his aunt was talking about. Without knowing her, he had felt sorry for her. But pity is now replaced by deference. He finds himself more in awe of how she managed to walk the rooms this evening with her head held high, knowing what people must be whispering about her behind her back. He understands that a pastime and patronage she clearly enjoys has been jeopardized by the possibility of having to attend alone, but he worries that his presence, and lack of regard for certain expectations and niceties may hinder more than it helps. 
“I've never been to the theatre before, sir. I'm not sure I would be the best escort”. 
“Nonsense,” Mr. Bell stops him, “you're a good man. Dress well. Pick her up. Watch the play. Drive her home”. There's no room for argument or debate, and the truth is that despite the odd, and somewhat unfortunate circumstances Jake finds a selfish little part of himself chuffed by the opportunity to take the dreamy girl out for a night. 
“Come around six o’clock you can park your truck here, and ask Steven in the Garage for the keys to the Benz. I'm going to assume you can drive manual”. Jake easily accepts the new instructions, raising his glass in the sign of a toast before the two of them begin their billiards game as if no conversation had passed between them. 
Saturday comes around in what feels like the blink of an eye. Jake makes sure his slacks, blazer, and button-up are pressed and his shoes are polished ready for the night out. After some debate on what to wear, his choice is ultimately decided by the lack of options hanging in the closet of the guest bedroom at his aunt and uncle's house. He'd learned years ago not to visit without at least two sets of slacks and jackets, but had never considered that he might have an occasion to truly worry over the outfit he's putting on. He's eager to make a good impression, but worries he'll look like he's trying too hard; keenly aware that this evening he's not just representing himself. He will also be purporting to assume responsibility for the social reputation of a woman who has already been unfairly judged and derided.
He showers and combs his hair before slipping into charcoal grey pants and jacket. He fastens the cuffs of his white shirt with onyx cufflinks borrowed from his uncle. He's conservative with the application of his aftershave, conscious of the fact he's attending a society function, not a nightclub happy hour. He's certain either way that her opinion of him could not be swayed by a whiff of Tom Ford cologne. 
At the Bell residence, Jake retrieves the keys to the Mercedes. A stunning mid-century model painted in oxblood red, so perfectly polished he can see his reflection staring back at him. Keys in hand he rings the doorbell and waits patiently. Through the door, the faintest tip tap of high heels echoes in the grand foyer. The sound is followed shortly after by a  small clatter and a hardly muffled “shit!” Jake grins ear to ear, barely containing a laugh when the door swings open. 
“Lieutenant,” she greets.
“Jake,” he insists.
“Jake,” she corrects herself. 
“Shall we?”
She nods, shutting the door behind her, a small clutch purse in one hand. He offers his arm to her. If she notices him flexing she doesn't say anything, but his cheeks flush as he reminds himself he's not flirting with some tag chaser at The Hard Deck. Cheap come-ons are worth anything here. She won't end the night in his bed. This isn't even a date, it's a favour to her father. 
She ignores the gentlemanly offer of his arm, and all but skips down the stone steps towards the driveway leaving him to stare dumbfounded. 
“Let's go!” She calls to him, walking backwards to the waiting car.
She's dressed in a dress made of black velvet today. It flares out at her waist and ends at a conservative length. But her back is exposed and he tries to stop his eyes from tracing the plunging neckline. With stockings and her towering heels, she manages to make bourgeois sexy. 
“You look lovely. That's a nice dress” he tells her when he catches up. 
“Thank you,” she smiles, “it has pockets!” Her free hand immediately finds the hidden pouch to demonstrate. His smile graces his face, and his earlier anxieties about expectations and decorum quiet themselves as he watches her open the car door for herself quickly making herself comfortable. 
There's a casual air to her demeanour he hadn't expected. Their communication at the cocktail party earlier in the week had led him to believe that she was not as prim as the circumstances expected her to be. Her teasing tone and her eyes searching the room for more stimulating conversation told him she had been holding back, and putting up appearances. He had no reason to believe that tonight would be any different. 
A few minutes down the road she leans forward to turn on the radio, the local country station playing at a low volume. 
“Your dad must like me,” he attempts to joke. 
“I like you,” she says, her eyes looking out the passenger side window. 
“Well sure, what's not to like,” he smirks, “but your dad leant me a nineteen fifties Benz” 
“I leant you a nineteen sixties Benz,” her correction leaves him with his brows furrowed. 
“This is your car?” 
She doesn't turn her attention to him but responds, “Birthday gift”. 
He feels it, the achy routine gratitude. The compunction that comes from being forced to save face and feign grace; saying thank you for something you never asked for. There's a hollowness that accompanies the realization that this chunk of your life is not your own, and worse, wondering if you could do any better even if it were. Incidentally, he's familiar with a similar gut-churning shame. The weight of undeserved praise and misplaced guilt have often pulled at his ribs. He loses sleep each time they pin a medal on his chest; when the ends don't seem to justify the means, and he can't tip the scales enough in his favour to win a restful sleep at night. It's never enough. 
“It's a fantastic car,” he tells her honestly, “you have excellent taste”. 
“Thank you”. 
He hears his fears and scruples in her quiet sigh before the words escape her.  He knows the echo of apology in a simple thank you as well as he knows his name. Silence settles between them again. 
At the theatre, she stays seated in the car until he comes around and opens the door to offer his hand. With fluid, graceful movements she steps out of the vehicle and he passes the keys to a waiting valet. Jake matches her walking pace noting the way she slows as she makes her way closer to the entrance of the theatre. Her back straightens and she makes a concentrated effort to paint a smile. Gone is the easygoing woman he picked up; replaced by an edited version. He has no choice but to respect the way she's managed the transition with such poise. Her hand rests in the crook of his arm their footsteps falling in time. “What are we seeing this evening?” He asks her with genuine interest. 
“Much Ado About Nothing,” she tells him in a measured tone though he notices the sparkle in her eye, “it's a comedy”. 
“One of my favourite Shakespeare plays”. 
She smiles broadly, “And here I was thinking you were just an accomplished pilot”. 
He shrugs, “I accidentally joined the drama club in high school”. He's blessed with a surprisingly unrestrained burst of laughter. He laughs too. 
Massive wooden doors with ornate stained glass panels open into a grand foyer of floor-to-ceiling marble. Columns carved with care and precision line the walk to the grand staircase. Overhead a mural is painted on the smooth plaster. Pastel depictions of cherubs and florals surround the massive crystal chandeliers that light the hall. He feels out of place, the shoulders of his jacket suddenly feel too tight, and he wonders if anyone can tell he should have had it tailored. He breathes deeply determined to stop any ounce of his discomfort from showing as her hold on his bicep grows tighter the further into the crowd they move. 
As a pilot, he has to be good at evaluating scenarios and making decisions. He doesn't overthink it, he just does what feels right. He straightens his arm dropping her hand from the crook of his elbow and intertwines their fingers. If she's shocked by the adjustment she doesn't let it show. “Trust me?” He whispers. She nods her breath leaving her in laboured puffs, each one easier than the last as they glide through the room and towards the private box the Bells have reserved for generations. 
“Are you alright?” He dares to ask when they're on their own in the quiet of the balcony. 
She nods, releasing his hand in favour of taking her seat. “Yes, I apologize,” she tells him, “I saw my fiancés family-- it startled me more than I anticipated”.
He shrugs, “Nothing to apologize for. The only thing worse than running into your ex is running into your Ex’s mom”. 
A sliver of joy peaks through, the slightest spark of good humour returning to her eyes. No tears gather, but he can see the genuine sorrow fighting to make its way to the surface. He's happy to help her combat it. “What did he do anyway?” 
She scoffs, “As if you haven't heard to rumours”. 
“I've heard the rumours but I'd rather know the truth”. 
He watches as she studies him, seemingly determined to root out any dishonesty. He lets her weigh his worthiness and steels himself to the reality that while he may be far more well-intentioned than most people she knows, he's not a very good man. He's sure she knows that. He knows her eyes see straight through him. 
Her eyes avoid his as she speaks misplaced shame wraps around her like a shroud, “I found out from members of my mother's church group that he had called off the engagement. I was apparently one of the last people to know”. The statement lands heavy but she continues anyway, “I never truly got any explanation besides a list of my faults”. 
“He's an idiot,” Jake is quick to interject. He's certain she has her flaws, who doesn't? But the idea that a clever, witty, honest, thoughtful, and beautiful woman such as herself could fail to measure up to some arbitrary, antiquated or otherwise acceptable standards baffles him.
“Worst of all, I don't think I'm lacking in any capacity. I think, maybe, I was just too much for him. Too excitable. Too interested in the politics of business to keep my mouth shut--too outspoken to be his wife in any case”. 
What hurts more he wonders; going through hell to pull yourself up to snuff, or cutting away pieces of yourself to fit a mold. “Then maybe he wasn't meant to be your husband,” the advice comes easy and he prays he sounds like he's offering comfort. 
“Thank you,” she says quietly, her hand reaching for his with a shaken reach. He's more than happy to provide the support. 
The room shifts when the lights dim. The crowd goes silent, and for a moment before the stage curtain raises Jake can swear he hears his heartbeat. There's an intimacy that demands to be felt, and it grows between them. Her hand resting just above his knee, his arm stretched across the back of her chair. It's casual and as comfortable as possible despite the layers of clothing he's afraid he's sweating through. He watches her more than he watches the play, turning away with a flinch each time she looks his way. Her laughter is infectious, and he leans in closer to hear it over the guffawing of the audience below. 
As the show continues, any cohesive thought running through his mind is halted as she begins to draw soft circles on his thigh with her thumb. The pattern is uneven and irregular enough that he manages to write the action off as mindless fidgeting. He doesn't dare to allow himself to believe that it could be an unceremoniously daring attempt at flirtation. In the short time he's known her, he has learned to consider her to be a person of deliberate and careful action. He doesn’t think she would trifle or toy with any kind of advance; insouciant or serious. 
The lights come up again, soft music filling the theatre as intermission begins. She's no longer touching him. Their private bubble seems to burst as the chatter of other patrons fills the space. The affinity they had built in the dark hangs suspended, waiting just beyond their reaches. Neither of them mentions it. 
“Should we go get a drink?” He extends the invitation half hoping it doesn't sound like he's making a pass at her, half praying that it does. He hedges his bets on her answer; prepared to sit in silence for the 30-minute break if that's what she wants. He's shocked when she says, “I thought you'd never ask”. 
Jewelry sparkles beneath the light of equally bejeweled chandeliers, and gilded sconces. The toes of polished shoes make Jake think he's never shined a show in his life. Years of keeping his uniforms in pristine condition don't compare to the easygoing luxury of brand-new Italian patent leather. An order of two scotches on ice (the lady’s choice) runs him the same as a round of drinks at The Hard Deck would. The scotch doesn't taste any better here than it does when Penny pours it back in San Diego, but he holds his tongue for the sake of appearances. It's odd, he'll admit, standing in a crowd not identified by his rank or achievements, and yet being judged for nothing more than a projected image of inherited class. Like an ant beneath a microscope; so small, and insignificant, but under such scrutiny from the giants around him. His confidence waivers and for the second time this evening he believes he was correct when he told Mr. Bell that he may not be up to the task of escort. 
She smells like vanilla, honey, and now whiskey as she leans into his side. Her hand slipping into his own again calls him to attention as her countenance shifts; cool and calculated. He lifts his chin, and scans the room, his empty glass abandoned at the bar. 
“Miss Bell!” An older woman calls as she approaches, her hands outstretched in an overly saccharine greeting. 
“Hello, Mrs Calhoun,” she manages through partially gritted teeth accepting the uncomfortable hug the woman forces upon her. 
“I wasn't expecting you tonight,” Mrs Calhoun says, no attention spared for Jake, her focus clearly set on weeding out some kind of scandalous revelations, or calaminious scuttle to pass along to her waiting group of equally interested gossips. Growing up in Texas, Jake was well aware of how quickly news moved traveled down the clothesline-- dirty laundry aired for the whole community to chatter about. But the idle talk his mama and the neighbours shared feels so innocent compared to the chronicles passed amongst the Houston elites at cocktail parties, and theatre intermissions it seems. 
“you've been so antisocial since the wedding was called off, i do hope you've been taking care of yourself”. 
“I've been busy,” she responds quickly to Mrs Calhoun’s jab, hesitating before adding, “your son seemed quite embarrassed by the whole affair, I thought it best to allow him some time to process”. 
Jake is clever enough to see the battle fought beneath the niceties, and silently cheers her unwillingness to allow Mrs Calhoun to embarrass or belittle her. “What a sweet girl, such a shame the two of you couldn't make things work. You probably still could, you're both young enough. If he saw you in a dress like this I'm sure he'd change his mind,” Mrs Calhoun coos, “such a flattering silhouette; very slimmin--”.
“Mrs Calhoun, have you met Lieutenant Seresin, my escort for this evening?” Jake steps easily into his role of soldier and defender, a curt yet polite nod conveys his ‘hello’. “Pleasure,” he lies. 
“A lieutenant? How interesting!” The woman says, her expression souring as she suddenly makes excuses to leave. 
She's across the room in a flash joining a flock of tittering ladies who are not subtle at all as they cast their gaze towards him and a lovely girl who is now hiding her face against his chest. Her giggles are muffled but he's glad to hear she hasn't been too shaken by the encounter.
 “They're all looking at us,” Jake thinks it's best to tell her. There's nothing worse than being blindsided. He expects her to take at least a half step away from him; to straighten herself back into the straight backed paper doll their audience came to see. Instead she moves closer looking up at him with wide eyes and long lashes, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. 
“Maybe we should give them something to look at…” she suggests, and his stomach drops, certain he's not hearing her correctly. 
“What do you have in mind, honey?” 
She answers with a kiss, and he’s happy to be the one to kiss her, but he’ll be damned if he doesn't a proper job of it. How ungentlemanly would he be to not be thorough in his work? What a disservice it would be to her if he did not take the opportunity to deepen the embrace, his find purchase on her hip, and in the back of her hair. By the starry-eyed look on her face when he pulls away he’s convinced he’s met the mark of the task; the shocked expressions from the Calhouns confirm his suspicions of her ex lacking any kind of rectitude or skill. 
The kiss wasn't long enough or anywhere near steamy enough to be considered anything close to vulgar. He knows the two of them will be the subject of several buzz lines in the community tomorrow, but he hopes it won't be anything implying promiscuity or untoward behaviour. Her cheek is warm beneath the pad of his tomb, and he's sure his cheeks are flushed. He tries not to become too giddy at the prospect of being promoted from escort to boyfriend for the evening. He's not naive enough to think this is anything more than one of those fake dating scenarios from the made-for-TV Christmas films his Mama has always enjoyed. It's a calculated and clever choice, and he's happy to oblige; to be a pawn in something bigger than any of his own wants or desires. He's used to it. He's made a career out of it. Lieutenant Seresin reporting for duty. 
A three-bell tone notifies everyone that it’s time to return to their seats. As the lights slowly dim once more her hand returns to the place it had taken on his thigh earlier in the night, any remaining tension in her shoulders released as she busies herself with tracing invisible shapes once again. In the darkness of the room, Jake’s face blushes as he tries not to shift too suddenly in his seat, her hand moving an inch or two higher up his leg. Long-manicured fingers move at a teasing pace until they find his belt buckle. He has no choice but to stop her, even though he’d prefer not to. His lips brush the shell of her ear as he captures her wrist in his hand, “Behave,” he whispers, managing to keep his warning somewhere between stern and playful. A soft gasp escapes her, her eyes glinting in the low light with a mischievous glee. Good God, he’d be hard-pressed to deny her anything looking at him like that. He releases her wrist, and she resumes her mission. 
He feels guilty; as if he’s corrupted her somehow, and he knows that feeling alone is a disservice to her. In the extraordinarily short time he’s known her he’s learned that she is headstrong and determined in the most brilliant ways. While she’s spent her life slipping in and out of different roles to ease the minds of those she’s been forced to associate with, she has done it all by choice. As exhausted as she must be, it’s a game she’s learned to play, and she’ll never allow herself to lose. He urges himself to consider that his role in her life may just be that of a buffer, a simple stand-in to offset the weight of the outside world. His penchant for cocksure, self-assured, over conference aside, he’s not dumb enough to truly think that he could be her freedom, but he’ll allow himself to sleep tonight with the belief that he could be happy being a conduit for it. 
She’s indescribably pretty looking up at him. Her skirt billows around her where she kneels between his thighs, her hair slightly tousled, and her lips glossy. He’s met his fair share of beautiful women. He’s lost count of the partners he brought home for a night. Most of their names he’s now forgotten, and he feels dreadfully sorry to them all because he knows this image before him now will be burned into his mind for a lifetime. He won’t forget Miss Bell, nor her elegance. He won’t ever fail to recall her smile, or he erudite quips. His breath stutters, and he thanks the Lord for the players on the stage making the audience laugh as he struggles to hold back a softened moan. 
The rest of the evening’s performance passes in a blur and they’re outside waiting for the valet to bring the car around before he knows it. She reapplies her lipstick with the help of a small compact mirror, and he swears his knees go weak at the sight. He tips the valet well for the speed with which he returns, and she gives a kind “thank you. Have a good night,” to the man as she ducks to slip into the passenger seat. 
“You should come inside,” she says as they pull through the gate outside her home. “I should?” 
“Mhm,” she hums. “And why is that?” he asks hoping he’s not pressing his luck. “Because I like you, Jake,” she says simply. He doesn’t need more convincing. 
Her bedroom is as warm, plush, and luxurious as he could have anticipated. Their clothes strewn across the floor leave a conspicuous trail from the door to her bed. The dress he'd been admiring her in all night must've cost a pretty penny but it's tossed aside with his pants and shirt that she'd made quick work of. 
He lets her have her fun perched, straddling his lap as hands and lips explore exposed bodies. He's careful about leaving his mark knowing his presence in this house tonight must be that of a ghost. Neither of them say it, but they both know this is a secret they'll keep forever. Jake pinches her hip when she nips particularly hard at his collarbone.
“Careful. That's property of the United States Navy, honey”.
 His warning doesn't dissuade her and she's convinced to leave another bite in the same place. He rolls them over, settling his weight between thighs. He leaves kiss stain bruises along her torso, taking his time to lap, suck, and soothe with the goal of hearing her sighs. 
He lowers himself to his belly kissing from her ankle to her knee as he pushes one of her legs then the other over his shoulders. “You don't have to--”.
“I want to,” he insists with a playful nip at her hip, but she still looks hesitant. “I won't if you don't want me to,” he assures her, beginning to pull away. 
“ I do!” She says quickly, “it's just my ex never--”
“He's an idiot,” he replies easily before diving in for a taste. He means it too. He has abandoned reason and found heaven. He's collapsed like a man starved before her. Only an absolute fool would balk at the opportunity to please a woman, especially one who looks so pretty with her head tilted back, her fingers tangled in his hair; a plea for more. How could he deny her? 
It's a year later when he's invited back to the theatre. His girlfriend’s had held proudly in his own as they both sidestep the conversations they do not wish to be a part of. “Miss Bell,” people still call out to her, and she obliges them with polite small talk, correcting them as they ask about her Lieutenant, she's proud of him and his recent promotion, ensuring that they are all aware of the correct honorific, but insisting they just call him Jake. It's who he'd prefer to be in her company; a truer version of himself. The Calhouns make themselves scarce, avoiding himself and Miss Bell like the plague, and neither of them has any complaints about that. 
Mindless catching up, and society-bound exchanges are far less painful with a companion. They take turns filling people in on their lives out in California, slipping inside jokes between the lines unbeknownst to the people around them. Little secrets just to keep the other entertained, the reward of a smile enough to pull them through the crowds. Neither of them relaxes completely until they've made it to the Bell’s private box. His hand moves to rest on her thigh by instinct at this point, he palm warm on her exposed skin. He loves her in this dress, emerald green, with an elegant slit up the skirt. She leans over to kiss him and he’s more than happy to indulge her. 
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mya-valentine · 4 months ago
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Headcanons for how the League Of Villains act when drunk?.. and Would they do stupid things while drunk? P.S: I love your writing
Headcanon: How The League of Villains Act When Drunk
A/N: Thank you☺️ I'm so glad you enjoy my work. Sorry if this took long, I've been very busy
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Tomura Shigaraki
Shigaraki would be the moody type when drunk. He’d probably go from brooding in a corner, muttering about heroes, to suddenly ranting loudly about his disdain for All Might or Deku.
His usual “don’t touch me” attitude would flip. He might get oddly clingy, pulling people into bear hugs, much to everyone’s confusion and discomfort.
Shigaraki’s coordination would be all over the place, and his decay quirk would activate accidentally, leaving things crumbling everywhere—tables, chairs, even door handles, all turning to dust without him meaning to.
Dabi
Dabi would get even more sarcastic than usual, throwing snarky comments left and right. He’d probably flirt with everyone in the room, completely deadpan, even with people who have no interest. “Oh, Toga, you look so sharp today. Literally.”
In his drunken state, he’d accidentally set small things on fire—couches, curtains, even the occasional bottle of alcohol in his hand—just because he’s too distracted or careless to control his quirk properly.
He’d probably start stupid dares, like challenging Shigaraki to see who can destroy more things or asking Toga to "cut shapes" into walls with her knife.
Himiko Toga
Toga would become super giggly and affectionate, trying to hug and nuzzle everyone, especially the people she has a crush on. She might even start poking fun at people for how “cute” their blood would taste.
She’d playfully challenge others to knife games, laughing hysterically when she almost cuts herself or others, not caring about the danger.
She’d drink some blood, attempt to transform into someone else, and then forget halfway through who she was supposed to be. This would lead to hilarious transformations where she’s stuck as a weird mix of multiple people.
Twice
Twice would become even more chaotic when drunk, with his split personality going haywire. He’d swing from being super confident and boastful to panicking about trivial things like, "What if I’ve already drunk too much and cloned myself and don’t even know it!?"
In his confusion, he’d start cloning himself uncontrollably, leading to dozens of Twice clones running around, all with different levels of drunkenness and confusion, some trying to clean up while others make even more of a mess.
He’d constantly get into weird, loud arguments with his clones, debating who’s the “real” Twice, which would escalate into drunken wrestling matches with himself.
Toga and Twice would absolutely team up in their drunken state, pulling pranks on everyone. Twice would clone himself to create distractions while Toga sneaks up behind others, surprising them with her knives or transforming into random League members just to freak everyone out.
Spinner
Spinner would get very philosophical when drunk, going on long rants about Stain’s ideology, questioning the morality of their actions, and asking deep questions like, "Are we truly villains, or just misunderstood heroes?"
He’d probably unsheath his sword and start swinging it around clumsily, knocking things over, and hitting furniture while trying to show off his "heroic" skills, only to trip over his tail.
At some point, he’d drunkenly start insisting everyone play an old video game with him, like Tetris or Street Fighter, getting overly competitive and emotional about it.
Mr. Compress
Mr. Compress would turn into an exaggerated version of himself when drunk, speaking in grand, dramatic gestures, like he’s performing a show. He’d likely challenge others to card tricks or sleight-of-hand games, only to drop the cards everywhere.
He’d start compressing random items in the room—bottles, plates, even Twice’s clones—without much thought, laughing about the chaos it causes.
He’d try to tell elaborate, fantastical stories about his past or the League’s adventures, getting increasingly nonsensical and confusing as he rambles on, leaving everyone unsure of what he’s talking about.
Kurogiri
Kurogiri would try to stay responsible at first, keeping an eye on the others and making sure no one gets hurt. But after a few drinks, even he’d loosen up a bit, though he’d never fully lose his calm demeanor.
As he gets drunk, Kurogiri might accidentally start teleporting people or objects to random places, sending Dabi across the room or making Twice reappear in the kitchen without meaning to.
He’d start talking in circles about the importance of balance and order, even as he drunkenly sends half the room into his portals, much to everyone’s frustration.
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Masterlist
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