#it's growing a friend out of it's own head

[hs-is-loml]

He's My Favorite. (ln4)

Pairing: Lando Norris x Sainz!Actress!Reader

Summary: fans are speculating who y/n might be dating but it turns out it was in front of their faces the whole time. or y/n and lando are mistakenly considered to only be best friends and people are in for a surprise.

Type: Social Media AU! face claim is Bruna Marquezine!

Warnings: probably a few grammar errors. lots of fluff. drivers standing their ground against neymar jr. because he deserves his own warning. inaccurate timelines but then again this is a fictional smau! UNEDITED

a/n: i'm on a kick rn. nothing can stop me.

all translations come from google! english translations are in parentheses!!

masterlist

twitter

instagram

carlossainz55 just made a post

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 1,560,937 others

carlossainz55 so proud of this one! but papa did say your head is growing too big after you saw yourself on the billboard...and i agree with him. anyways, go support y/n by watching her new movie Blue Beetle now in theaters!

tagged yourusername

view all 117,342 comments

sainzforlife this family is too talented for their own good-

yourusername papa did not say that.

→ carlossainz55 just ask him then @/carlossainzoficial

→ carlossainzoficial mija, es de lo único que has estado hablando desde que lo viste. (daughter, that's all you've been talking about since you saw it.)

→ yourusername papa, that's not very nice. don't try to pretend like i didn't catch you sending the trailer to all your friends last week...

iamrebeccad beautiful girl and amazing movie!

→ yourusername i love you more than my brother.

→ liked by iamrebeccad and 217 others

xolo_mariduena at least you didn't see her crying when she first saw the billboard

→ yourusername XOLO, NO ONE WAS SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT

→ landonorris send the video.

→ yourusername now, look what you've done. all the drivers are going to see me crying now-

→ xolo_mariduena you'll still take me to the next gp right...?

landonorris just to let you guys know she cried after this photo was taken too

→ carlando4life does this mean lando was with the family for the private screening??

→ 4papaya lando is a part of their family so probably😭

instagram

landonorris just made a post

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, mclaren, and 1,860,657 others

landonorris can't believe this girl is going to be blown up on the big screen coming to theaters near you. jokes aside proud of you and everything you do.

tagged yourusername

view all 99,342 comments

thatonebakucorner this post is so sweet!

yourusername thank you, lan🫶🏻

→ carlossainz55 why did you send him a heart?

→ charles_leclerc yeah, what's that about?🤨

→ yourusername carlos, you're just jealous you didn't get a post from lando

georgerussell63 i never get appreciation posts like this

→ landonorris what do you want me to post about your slideshows?

→ alex_albon it's because you're not y/n

welovey/n LOL not the drivers grilling lando about this post

ln4csforever "proud of you and everything you do" LANDO JUST TELL HER YOU LOVE HER ALREADY

→ paddockfashion please- like lando could pull someone like y/n

twitter

instagram

yourusername just made a post

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, neymarjr, and 1,341,972 others

yourusername such a crazy week but glad i got to spend it with some of my favorite people. thank you for all the love and support you guys have given to Blue Beetle!

tagged carlossainz55 and landonorris

view all 117,593 comments

worldchampionsisaid what is neymar doing here?!?

→ neymarandy/n they need to get back together asap!

→ mywifeisy/n yes because that would be such a good idea even though he cheated on his baby mama while she was pregnant??

oscarpiastri lando is asking if you're serious with the guy in the third photo

→ oscarpiastri apparently, i wasn't supposed to ask you on here so now lando is yelling at me.

carmenmmundt proud of you, love! ❤️

→ yourusername love you, carmen! 🤎

ferraricountyourdays the third pic?? Y/N, WHO IS THAT MAN??

→ y/nismilf she needs to hard launch him already!

neymarjr linda como sempre, amor. (beautiful as always, love.)

→ carlossainz55 no, go away.

→ charles_leclerc wrong post, buddy.

→ georgerussell63 abosolutely not-

→ danielricciardo don't forget what happened last time you tried to contact her.

→ maxverstappen1 move along.

→ fifaandf1crossover do you know you have 30 minutes?

→ y/npleasemarryme love that they always protect her!

shesmyfavactress weird she posted picture with her bf along with one of lando and carlos

→ f1girlies maybe because she's an adult and allowed to be friends with her brother's ex teammate?

fernandoalo_oficial i remember when i used to be your favorite driver

→ carlossainzoficial those were the days

→ yourusername you two are still my favorite of all time.

→ carlossainz55 i'm hurt, y/n.

→ landonorris so was your caption meaningless?

→ yourusername i can't win.

whatacrossover oh, lando and y/n are definitely dating.

yourusername just added to their story

shared post by yourusername and landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, anasainzvdec, and 2,493,968 others

yourusername and landonorris just kidding, he's my favorite.

view all 136,975 comments

carlossainz55 that hand is getting a bit low, don't you think?

→ yourusername get over it. you've had years to get used to this already.

→ inmyf1era YEARS you say?

landonorris i get to be with you every day. what a life.

→ yourusername i love you.

→ oscarpiastri you're ridiculous

→ charles_leclerc mate, look what she has turned you into

→ yourusername charles, i will tell alex about this.

→ charles_leclerc I WAS JUST KIDDING. PLEASE NO

lilymhe was waiting for this hard launch!

→ alex_albon i thought lando was going to spill before they could even do one

carlossainzoficial what can i say i love my son so i approve

→ yourusername could've said that you love and care for your daughter's happiness

sebastianvettel actually, y/n forgot who her real favorite is

→ yourusername love you, seb!

→ landonorris back off, old man.

[robinsgrl]

FEARLESS

chapter three. boobs and beers

pairing ⇢ rafe cameron x plus size!reader

word count ⇢ 4.7k

warnings ⇢ fatphobia, insecurities, mention of a panic attack, boobies lol, uhmmmmm shopping as a fat girl, heather should be her own warning, daddy issues, mentions of alcoholism.

authors note ⇢ heyyyyy….. im sick and i am soooo fatigued but i wanted to release this, i’ve been spoiling the kildare nights readers and i needed to give fearless some attention. sorry for any mistakes queens, love you guys! gimme ur thoughts!!

“Why are we here?” You ask as he plops down onto the seat across from you at the mall food court. He slides over a cup of fro-yo at you. A frown falls to your lip when you take a peek in it. “You get plain fro-yo?”

His eyebrows furrow, shrugging. “Yeah?”

You scoff in pure disbelief as you glance into his own cup. Plain chocolate. “That’s… like… a crime.”

Getting up off your cold metal seat, you pick his cup as well and walk back into the frozen yogurt shop. The cute worker behind the register has a bored expression on her face until she spots you. A bright smile falls onto your face, as does hers, as you meet each other. “Heather.”

“Gorgeous!” She squeals happily as you walk over to the register with the tall guy trailing after you, watching the two of you curiously.

“My friend here, he doesn’t know the art of fro-yo. Is there any way we can add some toppings? Promise I’ll pay for every cent.” You ask her sweetly. The red head nods happily, ushering you to go on in.

You can feel Rafe’s eyes on you as you walk over to the toppings station. A wave of embarrassment flushes through you as you realize something. This makes you look fat. You are. You are a big girl but you try and hide it. With big sweaters, baggy jeans, eating small portions when out— not showing others that you come to the fro-yo place so often that the cashier knows you by name.

“My dad and I come here all the time.” You don’t mean for your words to sound so defensive but it’s what you’ve had to do most of your life. Defend yourself. “It’s the one thing he can afford.”

His eyebrows furrow, head tilting gently. You realize he’s not one for many words but his looks say a lot. He’s curious about you. And confused. “Isn’t your dad rich?”

You take a quick peek at him and feel a weight lift off your shoulders when you see his eyes have moved to scour the toppings. “Anthony isn’t my dad.”

He nods, ahh-ing. “Right, he’s your step-dad. What about your real father?”

You shrug lamely, not really wanting to talk about him. “Nothing. We just like fro-yo. Are you seriously putting Graham crackers in your fro-yo?” You ask, eyes wide and with a glint of disgust at his choice.

His eyes squint with annoyance as he looks up at you. “What’s wrong with Graham crackers?”

“Everything.” You reach over the toppings and scoop up a spoonful of gummy bears. “Graham crackers are like… green peppers on your pizza.”

This gets a reaction out of him. “You don’t like green peppers on your pizza?”

You scoff out a laugh, “I don’t know how we’re gonna get along with all these differences between us.” Your tone is playful as you speak this. You reach over and grab a few maraschino cherries and plop them on your fro-yo.

“Now that, I can get behind.” He scoops up the cherries and loads them into his cup. He’s scooping up Oreo crumbles beside you as you take him in. There’s a slight stubble growing on his jaw, a green baseball cap on top of his head. He's a lot more laidback than you’ve ever seen. He's usually in khakis and polo shirts. Today, he’s wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a baggy hoodie, with thick sneakers that you’re sure cost a fortune.

“You know,” you speak up after a moment, his eyes turning to you. You can’t make eye contact, eyes looking everywhere but his eyes. “We’re twins.”

“What?”

You point to his clothing and yours. You’re wearing baggy jeans and a baggy hoodie. “We’re dressed alike.” The two of you are done and back at the register, weighing your cups for the price. Heather begins ringing you two up and you’re about to swipe your credit card when he beats you to it. “I had that.”

But he ignores you as the payment goes through and Heather wishes you two a good day. “First things first,” you’re walking down the mall side by side, eating your fro-yo. “You need to stop dressing like me.”

“Hey, this is comfortable.” You defend yourself.

“Comfortable won’t get you anywhere. You have to show some cleavage every now and then.”

This offends you, a scoff leaving your mouth. You’re glaring up at him but he doesn’t seem to care, eyes moving to and fro, checking the mall out. “Why do I need to do that?”

“Real talk?” He asks you, eyeing you as if trying to see if you’ll get offended or not.

You take a deep breath in and nod. “You look like a little boy.”

You should be offended. But you can’t. Instead, a laugh bubbles out of you and you have to cover your mouth to hide it. “N-no, no I don’t.” But you don’t believe your own words. You sigh, eating another spoonful of fro-yo. “Okay thine.” If your mother were here you’d be getting a scold for talking with your mouth full.

Rafe simply rolls his eyes at the sight and hands you a napkin which you happily take. You chew on your cold gummy bears for a moment before speaking again. “Fine. I’m guessing that’s why we’re here?” You look around the mall with a soft and annoyed huff. “Where to first, sensei?”

You can see he’s visibly holding back a smile when he says— “Victoria Secret.”

The store is unbelievably pink. But your eyes flicker about the store and the mannequins with a sparkle to your eyes. You’d never stepped foot in this place unless Scarlett was at your side. Nothing about you ever felt sexy and she came here to feel sexy. So you never found your footing in the store. And now, with Rafe at your side, you feel even worse. Surface level, you only see undergarments for skinny people. Smaller people. And the idea of not finding anything and Rafe watching you get shut down makes you dread the rest of your day.

“Never seen someone look at mannequin boobs and frown.” You’re brought out of your painstakingly insecure thoughts at the sound of Rafe’s voice. You peek up at him and are surprised to see a softer look to him. Well, as soft as Rafe Cameron can get. “Seriously, it’s just bra shopping. And pantie shopping. I thought girls went crazy for this shit.”

“Okay, misogyny.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. To anyone else, it would look like a natural pose but you’re hiding your chest, as if that would stop this from happening. “I’m just… shouldn’t I do something else before shopping?” You hope he understands what you mean.

But he doesn’t. He shakes his head, “nah.” His nonchalant response sends a twinge of annoyance through you, biting down on the inside of your cheek. He starts making his way into the store, too much interest in his face when you call out to him.

“Seriously, Rafe, I’m too big for this.” This stops him in his steps turning to you with a look on his face that you can’t decipher. Not that you ever can, Rafe Cameron is an incredibly hard person to read.

“There’s a plus-size section.” Are his words and you feel a wave of heat come over you. Your mouth twitches as you try to hide the shame you’re feeling. But it seems you and Rafe don’t have that in common— you wear your feelings on your face.

“Look before we… I should probably, I don’t know… lose some weight.” Is your response to him, eyes refusing to meet him at all.

He sighs loudly, and you sneak a glance at him to see him rubbing the inner corner of his eyes with what you think is annoyance. And this only worsens your intense feelings of insecurity. And he speaks, “you don’t need to lose weight to be hot, ___. You’ve got a stunning body, you just have to know how to work it.”

Your eyes widen as they meet him for the first time in a while. And oddly enough, you can see he’s telling the truth. You wanted to see a lie on his face. You wanted to be proved right and know that he’s just as disgusted by you as all the boys in your school. But you can’t find it. “Now, are you gonna keep fishing for compliments or are we gonna find a bra that makes your boobs pop?”

You bust out laughing at this, covering your face with your hands in a shy manner. “Fine, but you have to promise to never repeat the word Boobs to me. Like, ever again.”

“How about breasts?”

“Gross.”

—

One of the kind ladies in the shop finds a few pieces for you that fit well. Surprisingly, you have a good time. The lady is unbelievably kind and finds you matching sets. And you come to realize you’ve never had a positive female shopping experience.

Most of your shopping was done with Scarlett and your mother at your side. And they seemed to be the unstoppable duo that knew just how to put you down. Your mother would grab at your stomach when you tried on a shirt that didn’t fit quite right. “This is where you need to focus,” she’d point at the spots that she felt needed to be fixed. “Next time you’re at the gym, focus on this. Talk to my personal trainer, he’s there all the time.” You went to the gym the next day. Apparently, she had spoken to her trainer and he grabbed you in the same way your mother did. You never went back again.

Scarlett. She’d make it a competition. If you found a top that made your eyes crinkle with the thought of wearing it proudly, she’d find the smallest size there was and try it on. Once you’d see her walk out with a top you were carrying on your arm, you’d set it down. She puts you to shame every single time.

So, now that you’re in a new shop, wearing a new push-up bra that fits like a perfect corset for your chest, you feel anxious. Beyond anxious. There are people everywhere. Chats coming from every single direction. But the last thing you need is to have a panic attack in front of Rafe. You barely know the guy.

“Okay… so what now?” You ask, clearing your throat to push away the bad memories of the store.

“Now, we shop.”

It takes an hour. A long hour to walk throughout the store and have him pick out outfits for you. Having him know your size was absolutely terrifying. But he didn’t bat an eye as you told him and he jumped right into it. Every now and then, he’d find an ugly shirt and hold it up to you and he’d mutter a joke. Jonah would love this one, is his go to. And before you know it, you’re no longer on the verge of a breakdown.

You’re in the dressing room and for the first time in your life, you don’t worry about how you look. Or how the jeans fit you a little too snug around your hips. You don’t feel panic at the thought of trying clothes on in the stuffy dressing room.

You come out in the first outfit and Rafe immediately busts out laughing. The green jeans are ridiculously long and the top is a corset top with blue hand-drawn flowers on them and ridiculously large bows at the shoulder straps. You knew it was a joke outfit but it was nice to mess around.

You jokingly strut, pretending the room is a runway. “Keep it in your pants.” You laugh as you give him a spin and this only makes him laugh some more. You feel a sense of pride for making Rafe Cameron laugh. Sarah’s text flashes through your mind. A man who hasn’t smiled in years. And yet, he’s holding onto his side as you strike another odd pose.

“Alright, alright,” his smile is pretty, you notice. And contagious, unable to hide your own as you listen to him. “We need to get serious.” But he’s still chuckling. “Try on a real outfit this time.” So you do. He likes them all. A few shirts ride up over your belly a bit too much and some jeans don’t fit over your thighs but you leave the store with eight new outfits.

Usually, you leave with hurt feelings and nothing but.

You two are on the ferry back home when your day together is over. It’s a forty minute wade back but neither of you seem to care. He’s sipping his Big Gulp drink and watching as you try and balance the water bottle lid on your nose.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to do.” There’s a tinge of amusement to his tone.

Your head is thrown slightly back as you keep trying but it’s to no avail, it keeps toppling over. With a huff, you pick the cap up and shove it into your pocket. “It’s a trick my dad usually pulls. It’s better with a quarter though.”

Avoiding the topic of your father is a skill you take pride in. Your mother always turns into a sobbing mess when you bring him up. Your step-dad isn’t ever really home and when he is, it’s awkward. The only person you could share him with was Scarlett. That was the one topic she never snarked at you over. Not to your face, at least.

“Can I ask?” You turn to him, criss cross on the bench that you two are sitting on, wind blowing your hair. You tuck a strand, nodding. “Where is your dad?”

“The cut.” You answer honestly. Your mother hides him from her new rich friends. She hides her past from all of her new rich friends. Her story isn’t as compelling as Ward Cameron’s. He built his way up. Your mother caught the attention of an older man and married him. She’s ashamed about it.

This seems to shock him but he’s not Rafe Cameron if he doesn’t try and hide it. “And you’re close?”

You shrug, turning to the cloudy sky. It’s easier to talk about hard things when you don’t have to look at anyone, you find. “We’re… we definitely have a relationship. But… it’s hard to build on it when my mother doesn’t know I’m talking to him.”

You can feel his eyes on you, mouth slightly parted as he takes your words in but you can’t turn to him. “She forbids you from seeing him?”

You hum a small ‘mhm’. “He’s a stain in her perfect life.”

“Not in yours?”

“He’s a…” you pause, searching for the proper words. “An escape. Like… in Coraline. The door. He’s my door to a… less suffocating world. Without the buttons, of course. And alcoholism.” You try to joke. He doesn’t find it funny, the look on his features softened and taking you and your words in. Letting them settle. “He’s not perfect. I get why my mom left him. Why she wanted better. He’s a drunk who can’t keep a steady job. When we go out, I buy us dinner. He couldn’t take care of my mom or me so…”

“So she found the next best thing.” He finishes off for you. You turn to him at this, nodding as your hair keeps blowing in the wind. You don’t feel exposed in the way you do when speaking of your father to anyone. Rafe’s not judging you or figuring out how to use it against you. His eyes are sincere. Face stoic, but his eyes are sincere. You hate eye contact but if it means getting a better grasp of Rafe, you’d never look away. And you don’t.

“What about you?” You ask with sincerity. “I heard the rumors. The Cameron men butting heads.” You admit sheepishly.

He sighs, turning away. It’s his turn to look away while speaking of the hard stuff in his life. He lays back on the bench seat, long legs stretched out and kicked back up on the rail. “Well… you know… fathers…” it doesn’t take much to see he doesn’t want to speak of it.

Instead, you nod, a small and sad laugh leaving you. “Yeah… fathers.”

The ferry stops at the port a while later after thirty minutes of talking about your classes to him. He’s dropping you off at home, bags of clothes at hand. “By the way, we’re going to a party tonight.” And he drives off, leaving you stumped.

—

—

Debut one of your new outfits. What the fuck does that mean? You can’t picture yourself going to a party in clothes that aren’t your comfortable ones. Your comfort hoodie and sweats are what you spend most of your time in when out of school.

Getting ready without a friend is depressing. Usually, you’d have Scarlett at your side fluffing up your hair and helping with your makeup. Not that you wore it often but on the rare occasions that you needed to go to an event with your family, she was by your side. And it was during those moments that her honest side shined the brightest. She was careful with you. Honest but not brutal.

You shake your head to get yourself to stop thinking about her. You don’t want to be affected. You don’t want her to have this much of a hold over you. You need to stop loving her.

“Woah, what happened to you?” Anthony’s voice is heard as you make your way to the door. You freeze in your step, not wanting to see him. Your mother had gone on a so-called spiritual retreat in Puerto Rico without telling you so now, you were under Anthony’s care. But he didn’t have kids of his own and you came to him when you were twelve years old, he never had to take care of you.

You turn in your spot, a stiff smile on your face. “Uhm… nothing. Just… going out… to watch a movie…”

He gives you a bore expression, hand in a bag of chips. “You don’t put on a mini-skirt to watch a movie. You’re going to a party, aren’t you? God, you’re a baby, you shouldn’t be wearing that.”

You scoff, “bye, Anthony.” You open up the door and slam it as he’s telling you to be careful.

Rafe’s truck is in your driveway and he’s standing out of it, leaning up against the hood. His eyes are closed and he’s bopping his head gently, singing a quiet song. The sound of your shoes hitting the gravel of the driveway catches his attention, eyes immediately opening and on you.

Your smile is shy as you hold your arms out, showcasing your outfit. It’s a black mini skirt matched with a simple black and low cut top, a leather jacket over it. Simple. But extravagant for you. “So… how do I look?” You really, really want to know.

His eyes are taking you in. Starting from the shoes you picked out, to your thick thighs, your hips, your waist, your chest (which you’re proudly wearing your push-up he bought you), your neck. And he settles on your face. Done up in makeup, hair let loose in its natural form. He gets up off the hood of his car and walks up to you. “You look…” he pauses, eyes flickering across your face again. He's lost in thought, eyebrows furrowed slightly, tongue lightly ghosting his dry lips. You nervously put your weight on your other foot, and this awakens him. “Fine. You look fine.”

“Oh.” You didn’t expect much. But you also didn’t expect very little. “I mean… like, if Jonah were to see me do you think he’d be… starstruck and completely in love.”

This gets something out of him, a small snort of a laugh. “Give a girl a push up bra and she thinks she’s a goddess.”

“Hey!” You laugh with disbelief as you walk after him, the two of you making your way to his truck. “You told me I need to be more confident!” He opens the passenger door with no qualms and helps you in. He closes your side of the door and hops into the driver's seat. “Okay, so what’s the game plan?” You ask as he starts driving out of your driveway, hand stretched behind your seat and looking back for any other cars.

“The game plan is,” he turns the wheel, the veins in his arms popping slightly but you have to force yourself to look away and straight at the road as he starts driving off. “Act nonchalant. People are going to notice the style change but you’re going to ignore it. If they ask, you simply wanted to try something new. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“So… if they compliment me, I… ignore it?”

“You’re hopeless. No, I mean, accept the compliments but brush off other comments.”

“Okay, I’m confused.”

He huffs and before you know it, the two of you are bickering. Back and forth. What he means. What you mean. It’s almost hard to remember that just last week you two weren’t even in the same world. Now, you’re in his truck, wearing the new clothes he bought you and bickering.

The walk into the party is nerve-wracking and all you can think of is how your thick thighs are in the wind. Which means you’re much colder than usual you’re not used to being cold outside, always so wrapped up in your warm clothes. You stop at the patio of the raging house, looking up at Rafe. “So… this is where we part ways?”

This visibly confuses him. “What? Why would we part ways?”

You shrug, “I don’t know… I didn’t come to parties often but the few events I went with Heather… we would part ways.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “That’s stupid. I’m here with you.”

“You don’t have to be a dick about it.”

“I’m not being a dick.”

“That’s you being a dick. I’m not stupid for—“

“I’m not calling you stupid, god.”

“You’re here!” A loud squeal pulls you out of your mini argument with Rafe. Your eyes meet a pair of familiar brown ones. Sarah rushes to you immediately and practically jumps into your arms. You laugh happily as you hug her right back.

“I’m here!”

She pulls away from you with a small pour. She’s drunk. Kiara comes out from behind her, pulling you into a quick side hug. “Guess who else is here?” Sarah’s voice is loud as the four of you walk into the home which is blasting with music.

“Who?”

“Scarlett.” This makes your blood run cold. That little piece of confidence that you carried vanished. You weren’t feeling yourself anymore. She’d see you in your new outfit and would make fun of you.

“We’ve got your back.” Kiara’s arm wraps around your shoulders as you walk side by side. “You won’t have to deal with her alone.”

“By the way, you look so damn good!” Sarah squeals as you all make your way into the kitchen where Kie grabs a few beers and tosses one each to the group. Rafe catches his beer easily and when he notices the slight panic in your face, he catches yours next, opening it quickly for you. You take the beer mindlessly, listening to Sarah drunkenly babble. Kiara’s entertaining her, laughing when she says something she shouldn’t say far too loudly. And you find yourself enjoying it.

You always dreaded parties. When a kid went around inviting everyone, they’d stop with you and Scarlett but only invite her. They would barely spare a glance at you. And at the time, you told yourself it didn’t matter. You’d rather be at home and cuddled up in bed with your cat, binge watching a show. But this… you like this. You like that Kiara and Sarah are bringing you into the conversation even when you’ve been quiet for minutes. You like that Rafe’s by your side like a scary guard dog. Well, you don’t really like that part so much. People are staring. They aren’t used to the Rafe Cameron not having a baddie on his arm.

Kiara and Sarah are in the middle of dancing a silly dance in the kitchen when you turn to Rafe. “No ones even noticing me.”

He snorts out a scoff of a laugh. “I’ve caught like eight guys since we came in, looking at your boobs.”

“Okay, first of all, that’s not anyone noticing me. That’s them noticing my girls. And second, I told you not to say boobs to me.”

“Boobs. Boobs. Boobs. Boobs.”

“God, shut up. You’re gross. There’s no need to— stop!” Back to your bickering, a laugh leaving you when he just won’t quit it.

You’re both in a comfortable space when a shrill of a voice cuts you two off.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Time stands still for a second at the sound of Scarlett’s voice. You and your new friends immediately turn to look at her. And your eyes widen. You’re wearing the same skirt. A laugh bubbles out of Sarah and Rafe’s big hand covers her mouth to shut her up

“You know what I’m wearing.” You retort with a roll of your eyes. Heather angrily puts her red solo cup down, stomping closer to you.

“Do you know how embarrassing this is? You need to change!”

Kiara laughs at this. “Girl, get over yourself. It’s a skirt.”

Scarlett is very clearly exasperated. And upset. It’s weird seeing her so put off. Your eyes don’t leave her as she keeps throwing her tantrum. “It doesn’t even look good on you! You’re… you’re embarrassing yourself.”

Rafe is watching with an amused look to his face. He hadn’t seen the fight, only a few clips that were taken last minute. But he’d never seen them go head to head. And you know he’s been dying to. Rafe is many things but dramatically inclined was not one you had added to your list until recently.

You're about to answer. You’re about to fight back. You wouldn’t let her embarrass you in front of your new friends. Loud gasps and yells erupt when a drunk splashes onto Heather. “Dumb bitch!” It’s Sarah. She threw beer right at Heather’s face which is now dripping down to her clothes.

Scarlett, quick on her feet, grabs her own cup and tosses it. On you. You gasp for air as it falls in your nose. “What the fuck, Scar?! I didn’t do shit?!”

“For not fighting your own fucking battles!” She yells, so angry that her face is red. Which you’re sure is from embarrassment as well. “You’re weak! Always have been and always will be!”

Kiara gets in between the two of you, “back the fuck up.” She hisses. “She’s with us now.”

Scarlett laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world. She looks behind Kiara and glares harshly at you. “Hanging with the pogues? Seriously? This is a new level of trashy. Even for you.”

“Alright, alright,” it’s rafe now that grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. “You guys are very dramatic.” He tells you as he takes to the other side of the house in the living room.

But you’re frowning. It’s hard not to be upset. And you’re dripping with beer. “My outfit…” you pull your arm from his, stopping. In turn, this stops him and he turns to look down at your sad figure. “It’s ruined…”

He’s quiet. And you’re about to tell him it’s time to call it a night. His hand grabs your chin, making you look up at him. There’s a look of determination on his face, which shocks you greatly. “You’re not giving up. I’m gonna make sure Jonah sees you for the hot piece of ass you are, alright?”

His words send a hot flush through your body. You hate how shy you get when he’s nice. Or when he’s trying to be nice. Even during his kind moments, he’s abrasive. But you’re learning to take him as he is.

“Now, push those boobs up and be confident.”

“Stop saying boobs!”

—

taglist. @pinkyqily @chalahyung01 @lunalvrsblog @teenwolfbitches28 @jayjsbaby @yawnzshit @mytimeiswaiting @tsshifting @always-reading @chimchimjiminie16 @ayy1234567 @acidfeens @congratsloserr @murdockcastleslut @cl4uus @clairesblouse @ange111 @daddydraco0

[jaellyfishh]

RIDE YOUR HIGH

paige x azzi

content: fluff, mostly smut

word count: 2.9K

notes: i started writing this on a whim. i haven’t written anything since 2014 or something, but currently wcbb is my hyperfixation and i love these two girls with all my heart! (this may probably have grammatical errors)

━━━━��⋆⊰━━━━

“Take care of the house, alright girls?”, Katie Fudd shouted by the main door of the house, before stepping outside hand in hand with her husband and closing it shut behind them.

“We will!”, Paige and Azzi harmoniously responded while putting away the last couple of Tupperware containers into their respective places beneath the kitchen counter and in the fridge, after the pair had their dinner.

Their summer had only just began two days ago and Paige and Azzi had planned to spend a short two weeks in Azzi’s hometown before indulging in their comprehensive itinerary together for the rest of the summer, which included a cruise trip. Azzi’s parents also had plans of their own, booking a hotel resort for four days after a year of non-stop working. At the same time, Jose and Jon had planned short summer trips with their respective friends in neighbouring towns. In an empty house, except for the pair, it was for certain everybody was itching for their much-needed time to unwind.

Paige noticed Azzi putting the last plastic container into the base cabinet and slowly made her way towards her back. The six-foot blonde gently wrapped her hands around the younger girl’s waist, startling Azzi intially, before realising what was happening and relaxing into her girlfriend’s chest. Paige rested her chin on Azzi’s left shoulder, leaving slow, meaningful kisses on her neck and proceeding to hold her a fraction tighter. The both of them hummed simultaneously as Azzi turned her head slightly so that Paige was in her view.

“Hey, big head,” Azzi joked, a grin etched on her face. Paige halted her peppered pecks on the younger girl’s neck.

“Way to ruin the mood. And, for your information, we concluded the big head was you,” Paige scoffed, her eyebrows raised playfully as they both retracted their heads from each other, now fully in each other’s sight.

“Alright, alright. Agree to disagree,” Azzi rolled her eyes, the grin still on her face as she dismissed Paige’s protest.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Paige said incredulously before quickly squeezing Azzi’s ribs with an intention to torment the girl with tickles.

“Hey!” Azzi erupted into a fit of giggles, followed by Paige, as they now face each other and fight against their attacks in the quiet kitchen, arms displaying a semblance of two cats fighting. Before it could escalate into an endless battle of who dominates who, Paige tightly gripped Azzi’s wrists. When their movements stopped altogether, the faint sounds of their pants echoed around the empty house. The older girl looked deeply into Azzi’s eyes, scanning her girlfriend’s face and internally ogling at how every feature sat perfectly. Azzi was art to Paige. The taller girl took a small step closer, switched her hands back onto Azzi’s waist like it was home and closed their distance. Paige bent down by a little just so her lips were by Azzi’s ear.

“You know, I think we should spend this energy doing something else,” Paige whispered suggestively before planting small kisses on Azzi’s earlobe, knibbling on it, before running them down to perfectly reach the sweet spot that Paige knew all too well, like second nature; the simple curvature between Azzi’s neck and shoulder. Paige cemented her lips in the familiar area, which elicited a soft moan that escaped through Azzi’s breath. Paige, ever-the-more hungry, held her girlfriend tighter and continued sucking on the spot with intention, making sure a mark was made.

“P, let’s go to my room,” Azzi breathed out with much effort as she could not contain the warmth growing below her. Paige retracted her head back so she could look into Azzi’s eyes, both seeing an alarming degree of thirst and lust swirling in each other’s pupils. Paige took Azzi’s hand and intertwined them as they headed out of the kitchen, walking up the stairs towards the shorter girl’s room.

As Paige opened the door, making their way into Azzi’s room, a wave of nostalgia and longing was felt unconsciously. The childhood bedroom - the room where it all started. Where they pined for each other during their first heartfelt conversation as best friends, where they confessed to each other after Azzi first admitted her feelings for Paige over the summer of lockdown, where they had their first kiss, and where they had sex for the first time as a junior/sophomore at UConn. Every part of their romantic journey started in this room and it only made their heart grow fonder as they continued to kiss longingly.

Paige held Azzi delicately, as if cautious not to drop a glass item, while Azzi’s arms were wrapped around Paige’s neck, deepening their kiss. With one hand, the taller girl closed the door behind them. They moved together towards Azzi’s desk, the main board, usually filled with books, pencils and a laptop that were now tucked away, left only with picture frames of the pair’s shared memories together. Their lips never left one another as they grew hungry for each other, both soliciting whimpers and moans. Paige lifted Azzi and was propped comfortably on her desk. Their lips detached for just this moment. Paige’s arms were planted on the desk and guarded both sides of Azzi, while the brown eyed girl placed her hands on Paige’s cheeks, both staring lovingly at each other.

“I like the way you hold me,” Azzi whispered as if in a dream state while caressing Paige’s cheeks. “You make me feel safe. You make me forget every negative thought I have about how I played during a game, about my fears of not being good enough for the team…or for you”.

As Azzi’s words traveled towards what seemed like a potential downward spiral of pessimism, Paige placed her hands back on Azzi’s waist.

“Az. You’re always enough, you’re even more than enough,” Paige eyebrows slightly furrowed, her eyes almost welling up. “You’re not trying to be perfect for your team or for me… you’re just perfectly you. You play because you trust yourself and your team. And you love me the way you always have. We would never expect anything different.”

Azzi scanned her girlfriend’s face in awe while a single tear fell from hereyes, which Paige swiftly wiped away. The blue eyed girl pecked Azzi’s lips before looking to see if her girlfriend was in the right headspace.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m getting emotional and over-thinking right now. Our summer just started… I guess I’ll be on my period soon,” Azzi softly laughed at her reason as Paige closed her eyes and chuckled.

“Azzi, don’t think about any of that when you’re with me, okay?” Paige’s eyebrows tented while she looked intensely at Azzi, anticipating for a response from her girlfriend. The curly haired girl nodded and gave Paige a reassuring smile before wrapping her arms around the blonde’s neck once more, pulling her even closer.

“I��ll make you feel better, baby,” Paige lowly hummed and darted her lips onto Azzi’s, more soft moans escaping from the younger girl. The kiss was slow and steady, allowing them to be in rhythm with their bodies and to place their arms in perfect position. Paige tilted her head, in which Azzi responded by opening her lips wider for Paige’s tongue to explore. The pace of their tongues ran between quick and slow, tangling in each other and wetting both their lips. Amidst the steamy make out session, Paige’s right hand traveled towards Azzi’s centre where the warmth was increasingly felt. Without a second to waste, Paige rubbed her hand onto Azzi’s clit, double gated by the fabric of her underwear and sports shorts. Azzi let out a louder moan in between their kisses.

“You’re so wet down there, girl,” Paige mumbled in amusement while her lips traveled to Azzi’s jawline, giving each other a moment to breathe, her right hand still rubbing rhythmically on Azzi’s centre.

“Fuck, Paige, I need to take it off,” Azzi squirmed in her place, her frame still being guarded by Paige’s hand placements. Azzi lifted herself slightly from the desk to remove her bottom attire as Paige bit her own lower lip trying to take them off. The shorts and underwear were tossed to the side so quickly before they resumed fervently to their french kissing. Paige, with direct access to Azzi’s clit, rubbed it with her middle and ring fingers, the slick lubricating the area. Azzi resorted to uneven huffs, small bouts of edging from just a singular action.

“Babe, not too soon. I’ve only just started,” Paige reminded in between sloppy kisses on her girlfriend’s neck.

Before Azzi knew it, Paige slid her fingers into her causing Azzi to slump faintly into them. Paige grunted at her own actions and at the sight of Azzi in a vulnerable state. Paige’s long fingers moved in a rhythmic nature in and out of the younger girl causing an eruption of melodic moans sounding across the room. With more need to satisfy her curly haired girlfriend, Paige then went down on her knees, her torso at a perfect height for her lips to close into Azzi’s clit. Just as her tongue was about to touch Azzi’s entrance, the brown eyed girl grabbed quickly onto Paige’s head and pulled her even closer.

Damn, Paige thought as she realised how needy her girlfriend was. Paige’s tongue danced on Azzi’s folds, as if emulating their french kiss earlier. Up, down, in, out. Not a beat missing as Paige moans into her girlfriend, who was riding her high.

“Ugh, don’t stop, baby. Just like that,” Azzi exasperated as her arms gripped tighter on Paige’s head, rocking her hips onto her face in matching rhythm.

“Mmm, you like that, princess?” Paige looked up at her girlfriend while her own body heated up, her fingers and tongue moving faster in tandem as she sucks on her folds.

Moans and whimpers started becoming more and more erratic as the motion of Paige’s fingers and tongue did not seem to stop. Soon, Azzi’s moaning in particular started escalating to a short-note, ascending pitch; usually an indication for Paige that she was about to cum. Paige timely curled her fingers in more.

“Paige, I’m gonna-“ Azzi exclaimed, bringing her head backwards, still gripping onto her girlfriend’s head. Meanwhile, there was no sign of Paige stopping until Azzi came. And on Azzi’s loudest moan, a wave of orgasm vibrated through the younger girl’s body and a fair amount of ejaculation poured out of Azzi. Paige moaned and made sure to lick and swallow every bit that had come out.

“You’re so hot,” Paige smirked before getting up, licking her lips and bringing her thumb to remove the cum around her mouth that her tongue could not reach. Azzi smiled, her eyes slightly closed after her first orgasm of the night. Without hesitation, the younger girl removed her top, revealing her bare chest and, thus, fully exposing her naked body to her entranced girlfriend.

“Paige, stop staring and take your damn clothes off,” Azzi commanded. Shaking her head from a hypnotised state, the blonde chuckled and followed suit. She crossed her arms and latched onto the lower hem of her shirt before taking it off sexily, making Azzi bite her inner cheeks - a sight she will never get tired of seeing. Paige then proceeded to untie and take off her black checkered basketball shorts (which she had bought a matching blue pair for Azzi) and her boxer shorts, tossing them into the dark corner of Azzi’s room.

“Mmm, you’re so fine, babe,” Azzi said in a sultry tone before jumping out of her desk and wrapping her arms yet again on her girlfriend’s neck while smiling in satisfaction. A red tint developed onto Paige’s cheeks as she smiled gingerly, wrapping her arms around Azzi’s waist.

“Let me ride you,” Azzi seductively whispered into her girlfriend’s ear, her breath tickling. Paige looked at Azzi in pure lust, biting her lips.

Their expressions at each other turned more dark, their stares searching for more. Azzi turned Paige around and guided her towards her bed, making sure that when Paige felt the edge of her covers behind her knees, Azzi could gently lay her on her back. The taller girl then used her elbows to scoot herself towards the pillows and head board, while Azzi was on her knees following Paige up the bed. Once Paige stopped moving, Azzi continued moving up, having Paige in between her legs until she reached the blonde’s centre and straddled her. Without a moment’s hesitation, Paige placed her hands on Azzi’s waist, rubbing small circles with her thumb and letting out a small whistle, making Azzi roll her eyes playfully. Soon, Azzi bent forward with her back slightly arched and her arms propped on either side of Paige, keeping herself steady.

Without a moment to waste, Azzi started grinding in circular motions over Paige’s clit.

“Oh, fuck,” Paige gasped at the quick arousal. The entire moment all-encompassing of making her head spin, especially seeing Azzi’s seductive expression as she slowly rode her. Paige also moved her hips in rhythm, a slow burn in both their centres. Their movement continued with their eyes locked in, but Azzi needed more from her girlfriend. She knew how quick Paige makes her feel satisfied and always wanted to reciprocate.

Azzi quickened her motion gradually, eliciting moans and whimpers from Paige, who seemed to already be troubled with pleasure. The brown eyed girl then bent down even more and started sucking on Paige’s breast, while massaging the opposite.

“Az, oh god,” the sight was overwhelming for Paige, but in a good way. Azzi smirked in her sloppy make out session with Paige’s breast, before using her tongue to tickle her nipple in unintelligible ways. The sensation caused Paige to bend her head backwards as she caressed Azzi’s ass, the arousal creeping up.

“I’ll ride you like a cowgirl,” Azzi cheekily uttered before placing a wet kiss on her girlfriend’s lips. The curly haired girl then sat up started lightly grinding up and down and in circular motions, making enough movement for Paige to let out uneven gasps and whimpers. This prompted Azzi to then bounce on Paige’s clit while moaning loudly herself, aggravating her girlfriend’s state of mind and wanting her to beg to continue.

“You’re making me go crazy, baby,” Paige exhaled in frustration, her hands travelling up towards Azzi’s breast and massaging it synchronously with Azzi’s motion. Paige starting groaning as Azzi’s clit against hers sent electrical waves down her spine. Without missing a beat, Azzi removed herself from Paige’s clit, so she could bend down and envelope her girlfriend’s pussy in her mouth. Paige promptly bent her knees, feet flat on the bed, as Azzi held her thighs. The lust-filled Azzi started licking Paige’s folds and inserting her tongue into her entrance in a faster tempo, continuing the high from tribbing. Her fingers rubbing up and down in alternate patterns with her mouth, making a chaotic, but systematic routine for Paige to climax off of.

“Come for me, baby,” Azzi moaned while her fingers started rubbing Paige’s clit even faster. Paige gently grabbed Azzi’s head, rubbing her pussy on Azzi’s nose and lips while her whimpers grew louder.

“Fu- uck,” Paige groaned and closed her eyes, bewitched by the sensation and thought of a perfect princess being able to frazzle her mind and control her in many ways. In just a few seconds, Paige’s own fluids came out, surprising Azzi with a couple of squirts as the curly haired girl continued inserting into her in a curled direction, savouring the last few seconds of Paige’s orgasm. Just like that, Paige ejaculated the remainder into Azzi’s hands, letting out her loudest moan of the night. In a satisfied hum, Azzi licked her fingers clean and got out of position, laying herself beside her girlfriend. The pair brought themselves closer into a cuddle.

“I’d rate that an eleven out of ten,” Paige joked, her arm snaking under Azzi’s head, pulling her girlfriend close and kissing her forehead.

“What the hell, so we’re rating our sex now? But, thanks, I knew I was better,” Azzi teased before pecking her girlfriend's cheeks. Paige chuckled, then furrowed her eyebrows.

“Wait, what does that mean? So, mine wasn’t good enough?” Paige questioned in disbelief, her neck shifting to look at Azzi fully. The younger girl laughed contagiously as she gripped her girlfriend’s waist, bringing them closer.

“It’s not like that. I think I give more variety. Like, you just like eating me out. Which I’d still rate highly-,” Paige scoffed in interruption to Azzi’s words. She shifted her body even closer so that their faces were only millimetres apart.

“Oh yeah? What if bring in the strap? Then what? Huh?” Paige retorted in a whisper, their light argument emulating that of high schoolers.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll give you that. I remember the first time we used it, I was more aroused by how good it looked on you than anything else. Too fine…” Azzi continued teasing while staring at Paige in a trance and tracing her fingers along her girlfriend’s jawline, remembering the image of Paige with a black strap on with a pink dildo. The blonde grew more confident and annoyingly egotistical with her next words.

“Oh, I thought I, and quoted by Azzi Fudd, fucked you’re brains out. And, if I recall, you couldn't stop talking about it for days - "Paige, Paige, can we do it again? Pretty please? Oh my god, you were a beast," the older girl mocked her girlfriend in exaggeration, Azzi's mouth left agape followed by slapping her girlfriend's exposed arm.

"Okay, now you're just making stuff up," shook her head with a grin.

"So you were really not satisfied with everything after that, huh?” Paige raised her eyebrows, her eyes flicking to Azzi’s chest as they were still both naked.

“And what if I said I wasn’t?” Azzi played along, clasping Paige’s jaw and peppering the side of her mouth with kisses.

“I’d like to have a satisfied customer,” Paige hurriedly got out of the bed and made her way to the many boxes hidden in the corner of Azzi’s closet. Azzi couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of an adamant Paige rummaging through the thousand of boxes where the strap hid secretively.

[haologram]

stairway to the stars ☆ l.jh [m]

⤷ part of 'a very seventeen christmas' secret santa event! synopsis: your husband has always been supportive of your dreams - from the sidelines. he stays to himself, he keeps his mouth shut. it's you that can't stop running yours when your co-star is all over him. genre: established relationship au, tiny bit of angst, fluff, smut? pairing: husband!lee jihoon x actress!fem!reader word count: 1.5k...it pained me to stop it here. rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: mentions of jealousy, ideation of infidelity, general relationship dynamics. clit play, kissing, in the backseat...you know the vibes. what to listen to: stargirl interlude - the weeknd, lana del rey ; never lose me - flo milli ; the boy is mine - monica, brandy. author's note: hi baby @monamipencil ♡ i hope you enjoy my little segment for you! i did 1000% pull this out of thin air but please let me know if there is ever anything else i can write for you. much love from your secret santa. ♡

"Don't forget about me, sweetheart." It was one of the few phrases your husband burned in your brain when your career really started taking off. He'd only been your boyfriend then, trying his hardest to prove himself worthy of your affections and time. You promised you wouldn't, over shared bottles of heady Cabernet and stolen kisses. The following years proved most difficult – from fighting over not spending enough time together because of your jobs, to vacationing for months on end without repercussions – you were rising to the top way too fast for him to wrap his head around it.

But never once did his love, loyalty, or respect for you falter. He watched quietly from the sidelines, silently supportive of all your endeavors. He'd grimace inwardly a bit if your lipstick stained anyone else's lips on the big screen, he'd clear his throat one too many times if you shed any tears during a scene. He held your waist at events, a silent reminder that your ascend up the stairway to the stars was in good company.

When you finally got a bit of time for yourself, he made it his priority to become someone more permanent in your life. With eyes that never strayed and a heart that only beat for you, he proposed softly as the two of you took a midnight stroll for the first time in a long time. He apologized for not making it something grand, promising your wedding would be to die for and he'd pull every string possible to give you the honeymoon of your dreams – only for you to stop his rambling with a teary kiss to his lips. Telling your friends the news of the proposal was an exciting feat, until it fell on the ears of multiple of your co-stars. You hadn't ever even spoken of a boyfriend (you had, they just didn't remember), and a few of the men you'd worked with questioned the validity of your engagement, of your relationship – and it eventually got back to Jihoon. Whispers of the startup CEO dating an actress filled his office, side-eyed glances made him uneasy in his own skin and he hated it – he hated that people wouldn't mind their own business.

Needless to say, it pissed him off. He'd never been openly possessive, but a part of him knew that neither of you had an issue understanding where you stood in each other's lives. From dating, to girlfriend, to wife – you'd always been open about who Jihoon was to you and what his presence meant. You never shied away from answering his questions if any, and you proudly presented him as your significant other if he managed to attend any of your events. This alone was enough for the two of you to realize that people in your industry didn't take relationships too seriously, and enough for you to hard-launch your relationship by posting your wedding photos on social media.

The industry did not like that, but you didn't care. You and your agent continued to book role after role, your husband continuing to grow his business and make a name for himself in the world of music production…a stepping stone for him, and the first moment of blood-boiling jealousy you'd ever experienced at the side of Lee Jihoon.

Her hand was on his shoulder as they spoke music, and he swiftly moved out of her grasp, sure. The dance floor was full of couples, a dance floor you'd intended to whisk him onto after reapplying your lipstick in the washroom. Someone Like You by Van Morrison played as you stood a few feet away, your face contorted in a fit of envy as you saw your husband push her hand away, the words I'm married, please don't touch me falling from his lips. The woman grimaced – the same woman you'd starred alongside for three seasons of the very same show you were all celebrating a renewal for tonight – and she shrugged her shoulders, before the dreaded words fell from her own red lips.

"So? She doesn't have to know."

Jihoon looked taken aback, and it was almost like he was a moth drawn to a flame – his eyes landed on you, and the way your jaw was tight with anger as you made your way over.

"Soyoung, nice to see you. Did you lose something here, dearest?" You speak softly, staring at your co-star with eyes of fire. She gave you a sleazy smirk, shaking her head. "Not at all, Y/N. Enjoying the party?" "It's lovely, isn't it? Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm feeling a bit under the weather." You gave her a tight smile, your hand wrapping around Jihoon's wrist watch as you pulled him away. He'd never seen you in such a state, eager to get him out of the venue and into the backseat of the black car waiting for you. Your arms were crossed as you sat facing away from him, before he made eye contact with the driver. He raised his brow, and the driver nodded, swiftly raising the partition as Jihoon turned to face you.

"Something bothering you, sweetheart?" He saw the way your shoulders tensed under the wine red straps of your dress, your legs crossed at the knee baring the skin of your thigh under the slit of the skirt. You gave him a glance through the corner of your eye, your lip jutted out in a pout as he cooed at you, making you huff in embarrassment.

"I don't like her." You mutter, "I don't like what she said and I don't like how she was all over you. She's literally my co-star. She knows we're married." "As much as I like your little pout and think you're adorable, I don't like that you're upset. You know I'd never wrong you, especially not like that." He tilts his head at you, making you pinch the bridge of your nose. "I know, Ji. I know." He's not satisfied with your answer, his hand reaching over to graze your knee, biting back his smile at the way your shoulders lose their tension at his touch. Your jaw remains tight, shaking your head in disbelief. "We've been co-stars for three years. You'd think she'd have some fucking respect for me." You were always so calm and collected, never too outwardly expressive of your disdain for people or their actions. He feels almost guilty for the growing tightness in his pants as you click your tongue, facing him as his fingers trace circles into your skin. "You're literally my husband. That's how I introduced you. My husband, Jihoon. Not Lee Jihoon, not the CEO of Ruby Productions, my husband. She's so shameless, I almost pity her." You tongue your cheek with a humorless laugh, and he can't help but feel his cheeks heat at the visual. He's silent as you run a hand through your hair, your earrings swinging as you shake your head again, giving him a pitiful smile.

"I'm sorry, I know this is out of character." You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. He nods, shifting slightly as your hand splays across his thigh. You press a kiss to his cheek, stamping your lipstick on his pale skin when you notice the flush on his cheeks. He clears his throat as you stare at him, a look of disbelief glossing over your eyes as you gape at him.

"You liked it?" "In my defense, you're hot when you're mad." He scoffs embarrassedly, making you huff out a laugh. "Jihoon." "I'm sorry." He presses a kiss to your temple as you roll your eyes. "Are you?" "No." He smiles against your skin, and you feel your cheeks heat as he trails his lips down your neck. "I love you, sweetheart. Just you." "I know, Ji." You sigh, feeling a bit of heat pool in your lower belly as he nips at your shoulder with a hum. "I don't think you do. Maybe I should remind you." Your cheeks grow hot as he gently pulls your thigh over his, his teeth nipping at the shell of your ear as he snaps the waistband of your underwear against your hip. "Now you know how I feel. Everyone always has their hands all over you, like you're not spoken for." You shudder as he slips his fingers under the cotton fabric, smirking against your skin as your hand wraps around his watch. You bite down on your lip as his finger traces your clit, your nails barely digging into his wrist. "Ji, not here." Your body betrays your words, your grip on his wrist loosening as he pulls your thigh higher on his lap. "Why? Aren't you mine?" His voice is sultry as you shiver against him, slim fingers collecting your arousal while he nips at your ear.

"Yes, but-" "Oh, there's a but?" He slides a finger inside you easily, your words getting caught in your throat as you whimper. "Hoonie…" "Tell you what, pretty." He slips his hand out as the car slows to stop, the front of the hotel you're staying at coming into view. "We're going to go upstairs and you're gonna take this dress off for me, and I'll show you who the brightest star in my sky is. Go."

You nearly stumble as your husband walks out behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he bids the driver goodbye. You feel his teeth on your shoulder, his voice low as he speaks into your ear.

“And keep those heels on for me."

[thesecondhandwoman]

i’m not sure if you do platonic requests, but if you do i would love mama sevika head cannons. just how she would be as a mom

MAMA BEAR SEVIKA

Sevika x kid!reader Headcanons

Synopsis: Here are a few headcanons for Sevika if she was a mother. (Similar to her role with Jinx and Isha)

Protective 24/7:

✧ If anyone so much as looks at her kid funny, Sevika’s already glaring them down, rolling her shoulders like she’s ready to throw down. It doesn’t matter if it’s a stranger or someone she knows—she’ll have no patience for disrespect toward her child.

✧ “Talk to my kid like that again, and you’ll be picking your teeth up off the floor.”

Firm, But Loving:

✧ Sevika isn’t the kind of mom to coddle; she’s the type to prepare her kid for the harshness of the world, especially growing up in Zaun. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t love deeply, she just shows it in her actions more than words.

✧ She’ll push them to be strong but always knows when they need her to soften up. She might ruffle their hair with her metal arm or gruffly say, “You did good, kid,” but her love is clear in every glance.

Cooking Attempts:

✧ Is Sevika a good cook? No. Does she try for her kid? Absolutely. And while her attempts at meals might lean more toward “burnt offerings,” her child will never have an empty stomach because she makes up for it by bringing home the best street food Zaun has to offer.

✧ “We’re eating dumplings tonight. Don’t complain, you love dumplings, kid. I said, don’t complain! Oh sweet fucking—“

Bedtime Stories:

✧ Sevika might grumble about it, but if her kid asks for a story, she’ll make up some dramatic, larger-than-life tale. Half the time, it’s clearly inspired by her own exploits, but her kid doesn’t mind, it’s Sevika, so the stories are always cool.

✧ “…And then the hero took down a whole gang of chem punks with nothing but her wit and one hand.”

✧ “Wow! That hero sounds like you, Mama!”

✧ “What a coincidence. Now go to sleep, kid.”

Softer Side in Private:

✧ Sevika is tough as nails in public, but when it’s just her and her kid, she’s got a softer side. She’ll braid their hair, help them patch up scrapes, or hold them close when they’ve had a rough day.

Tough Love Lessons:

✧ She teaches her kid how to defend themselves early on, insisting they know how to throw a punch and recognize danger. She might spar with them in the living room, pulling her punches but showing them how to handle themselves.

✧ “You hit like a chem rat, kid. Again.”

Loyalty Runs Deep:

✧ Sevika is fiercely loyal to the people she cares about, and her kid is no exception. She’ll always have their back, even if she doesn’t agree with their choices. If her kid gets into trouble, she’ll drag them out of it, lecture them for hours, but never let anyone else lay a hand on them.

Undeniable Pride:

✧ She doesn’t gush, but her pride in her kid is palpable. She brags in her own way—sharp comments to anyone who doubts them and subtle smirks when they accomplish something big.

✧ “Yeah, that’s my kid. Try to keep up.”

Cuddles on the Down-Low:

✧ She’ll act like she hates cuddles, but her kid knows the truth. If they sneak under her arm while she’s relaxing after a long day, Sevika will grumble softly but ultimately let them stay. She might even throw a blanket over them with a resigned sigh.

✧ “Don’t tell anyone I let you do this, including your friends, mk?.”

[katescorner]

TSUKISHIMA IS THE TYPE OF BOYFRIEND TO . . .

tsukishima x tall-ish reader who wears lipstick

much to everyone's surprise tsukishima is a soft lover. after all what is love if not soft?

outside a restaurant and mid conversation with old friends (the karasuno group together for a reunion that only happens once in a while), without so much as a break in his dialogue, tsukishima sheds his scarf and wraps it firmly around your neck. he's still speaking, but there's a small frown growing on his face as he makes sure the fabric is secure. it's cold out. why aren't you dressed warmer? he doesn't pay attention to the looks of surprise on his friends face (or perhaps he just doesn't notice it). he's in love. why wouldn't he care for his lover?

before a game with the sendai frogs, tsukishima leans forward to get a kiss from you. it's routine. his good luck charm, he insists. and if you're wearing lipstick that stains a little bit, tinting his own just the slightest shade darker of pink, he doesn't say anything. he thinks it's funny, especially when you try to wipe it off him after only for him to wave you away. you'll wipe away all the good luck, he says.

tired after a long day at the museum (who knew working full time would be so tiring?), tsukishima is relieved when he sees you waiting outside for him. he leans into your embrace and rests his head on your shoulder with a soft sigh, feeling the ache in his neck release when you draw circles on his back. grateful, he whispers. i'm so lucky to have you. and you smile. he doesn't see it, but he can feel it with the way your heartbeat picks up.

anxiously awaiting your arrival, tsukishima glances down at his watch. anniversaries were always difficult to plan, but he enjoyed it. picking out flowers and making reservations, he liked having an excuse to see you dress up. only when you came, his heart stuttered and he felt his ears grow pink. suddenly the night's plans felt trivial and words weren't enough to communicate the feelings of his heart, so he settled on i love you. to the moon and back, i love you.

no real ending (or plot) just mushy love sick tsukishima

[countdykulaa]

﹟ ⠀ ⠀ 𝟎𝟎𝟏 ⠀ . ⠀ ⠀ LUXURIOUS⠀ ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ ❪ ⠀ spoilt! reader x sevika ⠀ ❫

you're spoiled rotten . you know it . your brother knows it, and sevika's poor wallet sure knows the fact . your mother gave you everything she could though you weren't by any means rich . you went to the best schools a lower middle class family could afford thanks to a scholarship, a fancy pair of shoes bought every couple years in contrast to your peers and even went overseas on your own a few times . this rather ordinary upbringing did little to deter the pit of greed rotting your teeth away with each request .

where your mom fell short your looks picked up . all you had to do was walk down the street on a friday night and all your drinks would be paid for . you don't know what it was about you or where the sudden shift came from , but everyone around you looked at you less like the invisible one , doomed to join the shadows and more like the one with stars dancing on their skin . it took a while getting used to it , but after a while peoples generosity turned less into a gift and more into a quiet expectation . all this to say sevika swears she found you like this .

she swears the entitlement in your eyes was shining big and bright under those fluorescent lights the minute she locked eyes with you at a club with your friends . you were probably half her age , still raw with a rebellious look . she knew the moment her eyes trailed down to the scandalous two piece you had on that you wouldn't give her the time of day if she didn't buy your whole table drinks . sevika knows your type and by the way you tilt your head and gaze at her , unabashed and curious , you know hers too .

what initially started as a drunken one night stand turned into something more but it was by no means an accident . sevika took the initiative , asking you on the date while the taste of your pussy was still lingering on her tongue . she needed to make sure you knew she was serious about wanting to be with you. take care of you the way she knew you expected. you responded with a nod of the head and smile of approval , dragging her in for what turned out to be a long two days.

dating you was nothing short of exhausting in the best way possible. you were nothing like most of the other brats she dated you were something else . you never asked for what you knew she wouldn't give you and that was what made you dangerous . you let her take the lead despite the snark comments that often leave your mouth . she'd guide you down the street with her hand on the small of your back , let you order for the both of thwm and chased off anyone so much as looking in your direction for too long.

you were a pillow princess most of time . loving the way she'd lay her giant hand on your back and thrust into you deep enough to make you speechless . fucked absolutely stupid .

she buys you the best gifts money can buy and stocks up on groceries because she knows how much you love to cook for her. flowers were always a constant presence even in her absence but now they're bigger … brighter , replaced every week instead of every other week . she doesn't just take you to get your nails done and braids platted every month, but also makes sure she waits the whole five hours , phone in hand as she watches the game . her reward is the food from her favourite place , paid by her of course. she took care of you in all the ways that mattered.

...

Your hands weakly wail about only to be scooped by her large hand. She places your hands bove the bedframe, the hard slam echoing throughout the house.

The longer she fucks you the more quiet you get . your eyes flutter shut . a growing intensity settling in your lower half.

“Oh.” you whimper out , voice high pitched and downright pathetic in sevika’s eyes.

...

half the times you toyed with her lips or ran your fingers over her clit was more you playing around than it was making her cum . you swirled your fingers around her bush , felt the wetness running down her thighs . even suck your middle finger on her clit at times . sometimes making her cum was another way to entertain yourself . you especially liked the way sevika would react when your long nails accidentally swiped on her lips . the quick thrust she'd give , etching towards the slight pain . those nights always ended with her blazed out , eyes wide and dazed as you rode her to no end . at times you'd see how many times you could beg her to fuck you while her harness hit her clit in a way that would send her hurtling into another orgasm back to back with minimal stop . she rarely complained , even when it hurt , even when she , the acclaimed brat tamer was on the verge of tears herself .

your definition of topping included shoving her down the couch , lifting your mini skirt up as you straddled her shoulders and riding her face until you got impatient and whiney and made her take over . you'd never outright say it , but she'd know whenever those long stilettos sunk into her hair and grip with a harshness that would elicit a hiss from her occupied lips . she'd sink her blunt nails into your thighs and dragging you up and down her face herself . she knows you , knows you won't give her cock or hardening clit the light of day until you've had your fill . you're spoilt and lazy and greedy and … sevika's pants feel tighter than ever as she gives some aborted thrusts into the air .

she swears she could come from this . from pleasing you . from watching the money leave her bank account the moment a satisfied smile graced your features . and cum she does , right in her pants . you pay it no mind nor the high pitched whines she shudders against your clit .

PLUTO SPEAKS : updated my taglist form so make sure to check it out

TAGLIST : @saycubed

[voxslays]

HOLIDAY SHOPPING

Featuring >>> Alastor x Reader; In which, Reader struggles to find presents for the hotel residents and finds both comfort and a helping hand in Alastor.

It was only a few days before Christmas. You had been so busy all month doing paperwork and chores for Charlie, that you had nearly forgotten about Christmas shopping—and it didn’t exactly help that you had no idea what to get some of the hotel residents. Yet, you carried on anyways as you put on your winter coat and scarf, grabbed your wallet and purse and headed out the doors of the hotel lobby.

As you stepped outside, the crisp winter air hit your face, making your breath visible. Snow was lightly falling, dusting the streets and rooftops of the hellish landscape. You zipped up your coat and pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, thinking about the long list of gifts you still needed to buy. You quickly headed towards cannibal town, hoping Rosie may have some ideas. You were in such a rush you didn’t even notice when you bumped into someone. “Sorry!” You mutter as you are knocked to the ground. You look up to see Alastor.

Standing tall over you, Alastor adjusts his bowtie as his ever present smile grows, "Careful there, darling.” His deep, staticky yet smooth voice carries a hint of amusement as he extends a hand to help you up. “Thanks.” You say has he gently hoists you to your feet. “Are you okay?” His smile never wavers as he studies your concerned expression, a glint of something mischievous shining in his eyes "Perfectly fine, though I must say… you seem rather distracted. Christmas shopping?" He gestures to the packages you're carrying.

“Yep.” You confirm. His grin widens as he leans in closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Well, isn't this a delightful coincidence? I happen to have a knack for finding…unique gifts. Perhaps I could lend a hand, guide you to shops you might not find on your own." Alastor’s smile brightens. “You would?” Your smile grows wider. “Oh thank you, Alastor!” He chuckles, the staticky sound like velvet wrapped around a diamond, as he takes one of the packages from you and begins walking alongside you. "Consider it a holiday favor, cher. Now, tell me, what's on your list this year?"

You quickly tell him both what you have gotten so far—a bug capturing kit for Niffty, expensive booze for Husk, a duck mug for Lucifer, and a unicorn squishmallow for Charlie (much to Alastors confusion)—and who you hadn’t gotten anything for. Pentious would be pretty easy, his only hobby was inventing, so how hard could that be? Vaggie and Angel were much harder though, and Christmas was only three days away. You had no time, but atleast you had Alastor’s help. Alastor listens intently, giving a hum of approval every once in a a while. "A…squishmallow?” Alastor asks, mildly confused. Though his curiosity about Charlie is now piqued, he keeps that aside for another, later conversation.

The two of you stop right outside a large shop with the sign ‘Rosie’s Emporium’. You knew exactly who this shop belongs to. You and Rosie go way back. She was the first soul you met in hell, and you quickly became friends. Having lunch or the occasional brunch together once a month. So as you stepped inside, it was only natural that she rushed up to the two of you. “Oh Alastor, Y/N.” She pauses as her arms envelope you in a motherly hug. “Long time no see ya two!”

Alastor allows Rosie's hug, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles warmly. He's always had a soft spot for the cannibal, and her motherly affection is something he secretly cherishes and reminds him of his own mother. "Rosie, it's been far too long," He says as he breaks the hug. “Well how can I help ya today?” Rosie asks, her cheeky southern accent popping. “Oh, we’re just browsing.” You say softly. Alastor gestures for you to go off without him, and you do.

You stroll around the store, making sure to stay far away from any of the more acquired tastes, such as chocolate covered pinky fingers or toes. You stroll to one of the antique curio cabinets, which has plates of fine China and glass sculptures inside. Next to it, a glass cabinet with expensive jewelry. A sapphire broach, a pearl necklace, and in the very middle, a gold and silver watch with a crimson leather strap. A perfect gift for your overlord friend.

Meanwhile, Alastor is standing by the entrance with Rosie. “So ya came in as an escort?” Rosie jests playfully. Alastor chuckles, his eyes scanning the eclectic assortment of items in Rosie's Emporium. He spots a few things that catch his eye, including a beautifully crafted bronze pocket watch and a rare, antique ruby necklace. "Actually, Rosie, I could use your expertise."

“Of course. What do ya need?” She asks, adjusting her hat before giving him her full attention. He gestures to the necklace he spotted, "Do you have anything like that necklace over there? I'm looking for a gift, and I think it might be perfect." He pauses, "And could you wrap it nicely too?" Rosie smiles, her huge white demonic teeth on display. “Of course Alastor. Is it for anyone in particular?” She asks as she carefully takes the Ruby necklace out of its case, places it in its box and wraps it.

Alastor clears his throat, glancing away briefly before meeting Rosie's gaze with a playful smirk. "Well, let's just say it's for someone who's very dear to me." He winks.

Time had passed so quickly. The next thing you knew, it was Christmas morning. Thanks to Alastor, you had managed to find the perfect gift for everyone, including him. You carefully pull yourself out of the covers and walk to the bathroom, the cold wood flooring freezing your feet as you walk to the sink. You splash some water on your face, towel drying it as you get ready for the day.

Once dressed, you make your way downstairs to the present-filled lobby. Under the Christmas tree is an avalanche of presents with bright wrapping paper and bows, surrounded by the hotel guests who are slowly opening their presents. You sit among the guests, a steaming cup of hot chocolate in your hand, watching as everyone opens their gifts. You notice that there's one present left under the tree, wrapped in shiny gold paper with a red bow.

It has a tag with your name on it. You carefully unwrap it, revealing the very Ruby necklace you saw at Rosie’s. You’re about to turn around to look for Alastor when you hear a staticky voice behind you. "Merry Christmas." You turn to see Alastor standing behind you, a mischievous grin on his face. You hug him tightly. “Merry Christmas.”

[enden-k]

short story summary here, again

im including some of my old, traditional art of the og comic i drew years ago to the recent ones BWAHHAH

[the nobody] vindrael lyndis

age: around 23 in human years

height: ~163cm

species: high elf

the protag. vin was born in a small village in the kingdom of Morgana. hes a high elf, a species that is known for their intelligence and masters of the summoning arts. all elven species are known to be very tall and ethereal and beautiful; they are born with both sets of reproductive organs and are not assigned a gender at birth (going agender by default) until they choose it themselves if they wish to do so. vin identifies as male. unlike the average high elf, vin is much shorter and bland looking which troubled him all his life. he was and is often overlooked by others as he doesnt stand out. to make up for that, he possesses extreme intelligence and a talent for the summoning arts much surpassing an average high elf. he studied and worked extremely hard and became one of the greatest summoners in the kingdom until the king himself ordered him to the court to make him his personal summoner. the king was the first ever person who truly noticed and praised him for his talents and vin started to develop feelings of romantic nature. when he learned of the betrayal, hes even more shocked and hurt than titus. he failed to see the kings change and manipulation due to his feelings clouding his eyes and mind and it shook him deeply. he comes off as timid and polite but has actually quite the temper and bad mouth. he overthinks a lot and is always stressed and on the verge of losing it. despite his rational thinking, he tends to act impulsively when hes teased and messed with too much. everyone else in their group is crazy strong and op and vin often feels like he doesnt fit in there, constantly doubting his worth and powers. he often envies others and its a trait he hates about himself; he envies zydonia specifically for the confidence he wishes he had himself. after the kings betrayal, vin feels extremely lost and insecure in the world and latches onto titus as his new meaning of life. he puts his well-being over his own, considering it to be his duty to his prince, and would follow him everywhere even if he often gets upset with titus rash decisions and empty head. titus considers them best friends and treats them both as equals but vin still treats him as a prince, putting some distance between them. only when zydonia makes him learn to prioritize his own needs and well-being and stop putting titus on a pedestal does vin grow more secure and their friendship truly turns into a warm and mutual, equal one.

[the worlds enemy] zerevni-ir yggdra dragonya ova-akhyn nggdragryl i-ihm avna (Z Y D O N I A)

age: in human years around late 20s/early 30s estimate

height: ~194cm

species: goldhorn dragon

the last dragon of his kind. a jailed king with no clan to rule anymore. the dragons are mythical beings living "above the world" and are divided into 4 clans; the goldhorns, the whitetails, the redclaws and the blackscales. each clan possesses a unique ability, ancient magic, which is passed down from king to king. the goldhorns magic is restorative, healing; the ancient magic is "resurrection" zydonia is not of royal blood. he was a common dragon and had loving parents. due to a tragic event caused by his carelessness as a child when he barely learned how to fly, he fell off the edge of the world to the mortal realm, broke his left horn and lost his parents when they tried to retrieve and protect his dying form from human hunters who were attracted by his fall. bc of his broken horn, zydonia lost a part of his dragon powers and his dragon form, turning into a much smaller, humanoid form. his parents death set off his berserker mode, a state a dragon goes in when overwhelmed by intense emotions and unleashing their powers in an extremely mass destructive burst. zydonias wrath was the most powerful and destructive anyone has ever witnessed and it led to him unintentionally wiping out the entire region. the goldclaws were attracted by his powers and came to the rescue; he was healed and brought back by the king who adopted him as his own son, fascinated by his powers and potential. despite his lost dragon form, the dragons still considered him as one of their own. even when he took over his deceased adoptive father and became king, he was loved and respected. he inherited the clans magic but is unable to use it bc of his broken horn, making him a flawed and unworthy king in the eye of another, specific dragon clan who soon came up with a plan to get their claws on his magic, murder him and take over (leaving this all out so this wont get any longer than it already is) back to the present, he was jailed in a dungeon when he got careless and was eventually busted out by titus and the others. ofc his jailbreak didnt go unnoticed and soon hes wanted all across the lands since hes considered a threat to the world due to the annihilation of an entire region when he was a kid a long long time ago; his powers as a grown dragon are much more destructive now and he possesses just one horn. he made a deal with titus; helping him grow strong and stop his father in exchange for busting him out of the dungeon and helping him find his lost horn to regain his form and powers. zydonia is very proud and confident and shameless. he comes off as easygoing, seeking amusement and always speaking his mind, no matter how naughty or "unkingly" it might be. despite his behavior, he still carries himself with a kings aura so its pretty clear he has royal manners and knows how to behave. he simply chooses not to, for the fun of it. hes stronger and more powerful than anyone else but does not brag about it and rather teaches the others how to "suck less" and get better. he only steps into fights when he knows the enemy is outclassing the others. zydonia has his eyes set on vin and loves to banter and tease. it seems he prefers people who dont like him at first and are not afraid to be honest and speak rudely to him.

[the failed prince] titus von morganastatt

age: 21 years

height: 187cm

species: human

the failed 2nd prince of Morgana. he had an older brother who he loved dearly and a onesided relationship to his father; his father neglected him a lot and didnt pay him much attention, rather favoring his brother aris who was way smarter and more capable than titus. his brother always tried to shield him from their father, willing to take on all the royal duties so titus could have a much more innocent childhood without his fathers sharp eyes and strict hand. its why titus never had to bother much with politics, diplomacy or all the "paperwork" that comes, only focusing on honing his body and eager to fight exciting battles. he doesnt understand much of such things and his father regards him as stupid and not capable to follow into his footsteps and run a country like the strict king he is himself. when aris died, it destroyed both titus and his father. unlike titus tho, his father let the grief consume and corrupt him and soon he started to plan to sacrifice his remaining son to zydonia to resurrect aris, offering a hundreds bodies for the magic to work, including vin and bell who were accompanying titus. he wasnt aware tho that zydonia is unable to use the ancient magic bc of his broken horn. titus was already aware that his father had some wicked plans and knowing for certain now makes him want to stop and save him. he pretends to be dead and starts a new life, learning how to be a proper king unlike his father and growing stronger so he can confidently return to his home and face him and end whatever he started. titus is a very purehearted and kind prince; always believing in the good of people even if someone wronged or insulted him. hes naive and a little dumb at times and always needs a bit to fully understand things. he admires vin a lot bc of his intelligence and considers him his best friend since he always stuck around him. he also looks up to zydonia and learns a lot from him, both useless and useful things in all kind of matters. when he becomes king later on, a lot of the way he handles things is how he learned from watching zydonia since hes also a king.

[the assassin] bell

age: 22 years

height: 168cm

species: human

originally hailing from an assassin clan, she was ordered to join the royal army as an undercover knight and assassinate the royal family. however, she was assigned to titus own knights and when they met, they immediately became friends. just like titus, bell is chaotic and easygoing. the way she talks might be considered rude which is smth titus finds amusing and refreshing. she behaves very bold and doesnt care what others think. when they make their deal with zydonia bell is the first who announces she will follow titus and "beat the kings ass". she was ordered to assassinate the family but after becoming friends with titus, she doesnt want to carry out that order. the clan always kept her in the shadows and theres many things she wasnt allowed to do or enjoy; titus, vin and zy are her first friends and she decides to follow their light and do the things she wants and not what is expected of her. so, pretending to have died in that dungeon is also freeing her and allowing her to live a life she always wanted. bell is really strong (both physically and verbally) and skilled; shes often considered to have "bad manners" but doesnt care how others think of her. she doesnt hesitate to kick someones ass if theyre becoming annoying. shes perceptive and a quick thinker but still a bit silly at times. she and zydonia share the same chaotic energy and combined they definitely destroy vins nerves in record time.

[aquamarixx]

breaking the internet

chapter seven Hiori and Miss Journalist share more than just a passionate night, opening up about their relationship and the uncertain future that lies ahead. blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains slow slow slow burn, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader, suggestive nsfw masterlist

After the heated confrontation on the JFA party balcony, the two of you decided to run into the night. 

The music and laughter echoed behind as you navigated through the crowd on the dance floor, weaving past a sea of bodies. Like mischievous teenagers sneaking away, you let Hiori sweep you away, his hand clasping yours tightly as both of you shared hushed giggles on your way out. 

Your heart races, feeling the adrenaline course through your veins. But you know it’s not just from running but from the familiar excitement between you both.

A cab ride later, you arrive at Hiori’s apartment. The complex sat in a quiet neighborhood, far removed from the relentless chaos of the city. As the elevator hums upward, Hiori’s touch grows bolder. His lips find yours, his hands exploring you with an eagerness that leaves you wanting more. 

By the time you reach his door, you’re tangled in each other, his kisses fervent, his hand cradling the back of your head while he fumbles with his keys.

“Maybe we should get inside first,” you murmur between kisses, barely managing the words.

“Nah, I like it this way,” he replies with a grin against your lips, his hand sliding to the small of your back to pull you closer.

When the door finally opens, the two of you stumble inside, breaking apart only long enough for him to catch your hand. He leads you further in, fingers intertwined.

Hiori’s apartment was modest but inviting. The living room is tidy, the furniture simple. Beneath a large TV, a PS5 sat neatly in its place, its controllers perfectly arranged. Everything else spoke of practicality rather than extravagance.

You couldn’t help but think of other athletes his age, often swept up in the luxury their careers afford them. Big houses in exclusive neighborhoods. Sleek sports cars. Designer furniture. Wardrobes filled with high-end brands. Nights spent clubbing, jet-setting, and entertaining an ever-rotating cast of partners.

But Hiori’s different. Even before stepping into his home, you’ve sensed it in the way he carries himself.  And it even bleeds into his home. Simple, thoughtful choices define his home, save for the pockets of indulgence: the gaming setup and a few shelves lined with football memorabilia. 

“Make yerself at home. I’ll grab ya some water,” Hiori calls out, disappearing into the kitchen.

You wander towards the balcony, drawn by the expansive window that frames the city skyline. Sliding the glass door open, you step outside, the cool night air wrapping around you. The city stretches before you, vibrant and alive, but softened by distance. Above it all, the moon hung luminous, bathing the world in silver light.

You can’t help but pull out your phone to capture the moment. The city below felt worlds away, a far cry from the relentless energy of your own apartment (that you share with a college friend), where even behind closed doors, the unsleeping city’s energy seems to reach and breathe life into.

But here, in Hiori’s quiet home, you feel safe from the usual chaos you live in every day. 

“The moon’s real pretty tonight, don’tcha think?” Hiori’s voice breaks the quiet as he joins you on the balcony, a glass of water in hand. His gaze isn’t on the city or the moon—it’s on you.

He reaches for a stray strand of your hair, absently twisting it between his fingers.

“It is,” you reply softly, eyes on the horizon. “It’s... breathtaking.”

To him, though, it wasn’t the moon or the view that captivates him. It’s you.

The moonlight softens your features, erasing the tension he knows you carry. He never understood when books and movies talk about being completely stunned by someone’s beauty. He never did.

But somehow, you basking under the moonlight got his heart pounding, he swore it would leap out of his chest. 

In that moment, you look at peace, and he wants nothing more than to etch this image of you into his memory.

You finally face him and when you reach for the water, he smirks and pulls it away. Raising the glass to his lips, he takes a sip but doesn't swallow. Instead, his free hand slides to the nape of your neck, pulling you into a kiss.

Caught off guard, you felt the cold rush of water spill into your mouth. You gulp instinctively, then gasp when he pulls back, a boyish grin lighting up his face.

“What was that?” you ask, half-laughing, half-stunned.

“Just somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to try.” he shrugs, brushing a stray droplet from your lips with his thumb.

The two of you go back inside and you finish drinking the remaining water in the glass. After placing the now-empty glass on the coffee table, Hiori catches your hand again, this time pressing soft kisses along your fingers, your palm, your wrist. Each touch grows hungrier and draws you closer to him, pulling you toward his open bedroom door.

Compared to the simple living room, Hiori’s bedroom offers a more vivid glimpse into who he is. It’s still nothing fancy but the first thing you notice is the sleek, high-end PC setup in the corner. The multi-screen rig and glowing keyboard look like something out of a tech enthusiast’s dream. You can’t help but wonder how many months of your salary you’d need to build something even half as impressive.

The soft glow from his wide-screen monitors lights up the room. Its screensaver displays a scene from a game you don’t recognize. Posters and shelves line the walls, filled with a mix of manga, books, and meticulously arranged character figures. Your gaze lingers on a strikingly detailed 2B and 9S pair. When you look closer, you spot a familiar keychain.

It’s a small 2B that matches the 9S one he gave you before you guys stopped talking to each other.

“Ya can look around,” Hiori says, his voice low and amused. He sits on the edge of his neatly made king-size bed, watching you with a mix of curiosity and an almost shy anticipation.

You wander towards his manga collection, fingers lightly brushing along the spines as you read through the titles. When you pause and open one, your eyebrows lift slightly. It’s a shoujosei title, and the mature, steamy panels on the page catch you off guard.

Hiori notices and shifts a little, a hint of nervousness creeping into his expression. He’s never felt this self-conscious before. Talking about his interests with you had always felt easy, but now, with you here in the flesh, seeing it all up close, he wonders:

Does she think it’s weird? Childish? Too much?

It’s not like he’s inexperienced. He’s dated before, even hooked up with others in the past. But he’s never brought anyone home. The thought of sharing this space with someone had always felt too personal. 

And yet, after kissing you on the balcony, he knew he couldn’t stand the idea of anyone else bringing you home. The very memory of Reo asking you out sends a fresh wave of irritation through him.

“Hey,” Hiori calls, casually pulling his shirt off in one smooth motion. “Something caught yer eye?��

Startled, you snap the book shut and turn toward him. Warmth blooms across your face as your eyes land on the now half-naked midfielder, his lean, toned torso illuminated by the monitor’s soft light. He pats the space beside him, smirking slightly.

It’s one thing seeing him all sweaty and his jersey sticking into his body during games. But being up close, behind closed doors and seeing his toned torso got you holding your breath for no good reason. 

You shrug off his cardigan and drape it over his gaming chair before walking towards him.

“You’ve got some impressive collections,” you say, attempting to sound casual. “I’m kind of jealous.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Ya don’t think it’s childish?”

Hiori’s hand finds yours, and before you can answer, he gently tugs you onto his lap.

“I—uh… no,” you manage, a little flustered. “It’s very… you. But I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who reads shoujosei. Especially the, um, adult-rated ones.”

You shift slightly, unsure of your own weight, but Hiori’s hands steady you. His grip is firm, and his thumbs trace slow circles on your hips through the fabric of your trousers.

“Well,” he says, his tone light and teasing, “What can I say? M’just a cultured kinda guy.”

Your arms wrap around Hiori’s neck, pulling him closer as his hands find your waist. His touch is firm yet hesitant, as though he's afraid to push too far.

Before you can process it, you tug your top over your head and toss it aside. In one smooth motion, he flips you onto the mattress, his body hovering over yours. The mattress sinks beneath your weight as he moves to unbutton your trousers, sliding them off and leaving you in nothing but a matching set of black lingerie. His gaze lingers, taking in the sight of you in nothing but your underwear.

Hiori stands briefly to shimmy out of his pants, leaving only his boxers. He kisses you again and it deepens even further, growing even more bolder. His lips trails down from your mouth to your jawline, then your neck, where he pauses to draw in a deep, shaky breath. 

Every touch is deliberate. Firm yet reverent. Like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you beneath his fingers. But at the same time, there’s a certain hunger in his touches that feels restrained, as if he’s holding back. And you feel it too. The tension, the longing. 

When his hands slide over your thighs, you instinctively move to cover them, a wave of insecurity about your stretch marks hitting you. But before you can, Hiori gently moves your hands away, leaning down to press soft kisses against the marks. There's a certain tenderness to it that makes your heart ache. 

“Yer beautiful,” he murmurs to you, peppering your thighs with light kisses. 

His words send a warmth flooding through you, and your heart races. But as his fingers hook around the strap of your bra, he pauses. His forehead rests against yours as he exhales heavily, his breath hot against your skin.

“I don’t want this to be just physical,” he says softly, his voice trembling slightly. “I don’t want ya thinkin’ this is just for tonight.”

You blink up at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. He looks away, as if afraid of what he might see in your eyes.

You cup his face, gently guiding him back to meet your gaze. “I don’t think that,” you whisper. “And if we’re not ready for this, it’s okay. I’m just happy to be here with you.”

A small, relieved smile plays on his lips. You both chuckle at how awkward and intense things have become, and he pulls you upright so you can lean on his chest. 

He exhales, his shoulders relaxing as though a weight has been lifted. Then he begins to talk.

“I’ve never been uninterested in romance,” he admits, his gaze shifting to the window, where the faint glow of moonlight seeps in. 

“It’s just… no one’s ever made me feel like it was worth the effort. I liked the quiet and peace of being on my own. Maybe I’ve even convinced myself that I didn’t need anyone. Easier that way.”

You stay silent, your heart tightening as he continues.

“Maybe it’s because of my parents,” he confesses, his voice dipping with a hint of bitterness. 

“They’re both Olympic athletes. Together, they’re the perfect story on the outside: power couple, world-class achievers, everything you’d think people dream about. But growing up, I realized their love wasn’t the kind of love that brought happiness. It was convenience.”

He briefly pauses, remembering that night when he found his parents shouting at each other for not doing better to make him the best. His heart twists at the memory of falling down the stairs, the sharp sting of pain in his knee as he fell. 

He hadn’t meant to overhear them arguing, but their raised voices were impossible to ignore.

"He’s slacking because you’re too soft on him!" his father had yelled.

"And you’re too harsh! No wonder he looks miserable every day!"

Hiori had stood frozen outside their door, his small hands trembling. He thought playing soccer made them happy, that it brought them closer as a family. But that night, the illusion broke.

"I still remember the exact words," Hiori murmurs, half to himself. "'We can’t waste his potential. He has to be the best.'" He looks away, his jaw tightening. 

"I realized that night," Hiori says softly, his voice laced with quiet bitterness, "their love wasn’t real. It was convenient. They stayed together because I was their project—not their son. Not for each other, either. Just… to protect their legacy."

He pauses, the weight of it all settling over him again. What if love really is just a transaction? A compromise? The thought had scared him then, and it still did now.

"I kept playing soccer after that," Hiori continues, his voice steadying. 

"Not ‘cause I loved it, but ‘cause I thought it’d keep the family together. That maybe it’d be enough to stop the cracks from showin’. But it never was." He swallows hard, his gaze clouding. 

“Soccer stopped being mine. It became theirs. A chore I did for people I didn’t even love anymore.”

His words hang in the air like a confession he’s been holding for years. He hesitates, looking back at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“That’s why I’ve always kept people at a distance, even when I tried dating. I just… couldn’t care. I felt detached. Until ya.” His voice softens, but the rawness remains. 

“Yer different," he says, his voice low but full of emotion. 

"Ya made me wanna know everythin’ about ya. Made me wanna be bothered, be interrupted. I… want ya to look at me. Not anyone else. Just me. I want ya."

For Hiori, this moment feels surreal. It’s been so long since he’s let himself get close to anyone like this. Not just because he’s unwilling, but also because his life as an athlete has left little room for romance. 

Between grueling schedules and the endless pursuit of perfection, there was no space for vulnerability—or so he thought. 

And then you happened. 

You walked into his life and unraveled his carefully constructed walls without even trying. Now, with you here, wrapped in his arms, the raw intimacy feels new, almost overwhelming. He hadn’t realized how much he craved this until now.

“I didn’t know how much I wanted it until I thought I might lose ya.”

He pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face as he searches your eyes. “Ya scare me,” he admits. “Ya make me feel things I don’t know how to handle.”

The depth of his words stuns you, leaving your chest heavy with emotions you can barely name. Without thinking, you sit up and you lean into him and pull him into a fierce hug. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“You scare me too,” you confess, your voice trembling. 

“You’re the only one I see. Always have been. I meant every word I said earlier. And I’ll say it a thousand more times if you need me to.”

You pull back slightly, your hands cupping his face as you meet his gaze. 

 “You’re… unreachable, Hiori. And I can’t even begin to understand what you see in me.”

“It’s hard to explain,” you continue, your own voice faltering under the weight of your honesty. 

“You leave me speechless, and yet I could talk about you forever. Getting to know you these past months—through games, through work—it’s felt unreal, like something out of a movie. And that scares me because liking someone like you feels impossible for someone like me.”

His brows furrow, and you see the protest forming on his lips, but you press a gentle kiss there before he can speak.

Hiori reaches up, his hands covering yours as they rest against his cheeks. His eyes meet yours, a flicker of hesitation before he speaks, his voice quieter now but no less steady.

“You don’t have to wonder,” he murmurs. “About what I see in you. All I know is ya make it feel like it’s worth a try. I don’t have all the answers, but… I know I want to try. With ya.”

His words land softly. You don’t respond right away, the air between you thick with unspoken fears and hopes.

Finally, you nod, your lips curving into a small, uncertain smile. “I don’t know if I’m good at this,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I want to try too. With you.”

A small, almost incredulous laugh escapes him, and you feel the tension in his shoulders ease as his hands slide down to rest on your waist. “That’s good enough fer me,” he says softly, the corners of his mouth lifting into a genuine smile.

You both sit there, holding each other, the quiet between you no longer heavy but comforting. The weight of expectations, doubts, and past fears seems to lighten, even if just a little. It’s not perfect—there’s no dramatic declaration, no grand resolution—but it feels real.

And that’s more than either of you had dared to hope for.

The soft rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, painting the room in a warm, golden glow. You stir, body stretching lazily before realizing Hiori is still sound asleep beside you.

Tangled together, your leg drapes over his, he cradles you against his chest. Peaking thru your lidded eyes, you see his features softened in a rare moment of peace. The sight tugs at her heart, but a glance at the clock reveals it's almost noon.

It’s noon. Shit. You find your phone under the pillow and check your messages. There’s one from your roommate, who’s worried you didn’t come home. Both of you share a GPS tracker on your phones to ensure each other’s safety.

miko: WOMAN I SWEAR TO GOD IF U DONT REPLY I WILL CALL POLICE WHEN IT HITS 24HRS

miko: IS THIS WHERE UR BODY IS BURIED?!

[image attachment]

Attached is a screenshot of your geolocation on the app, your avatar image zoomed in.

miko: if u hooked up with a guy, do a sister a favor and tell me in advance!

miko: also, i want all the details when u get home. stay safe! xoxo

You laugh breathlessly, trying to slip out of Hiori’s arms without waking him. Stealthily, you slide out of bed. You’re still in your underwear, so you decide to grab Hiori’s shirt from the floor and wear it in the meantime.

At this point, you’re already contemplating going home, but you don’t want to leave him so abruptly. Closing the bedroom door behind you, you head to the apartment’s kitchen. Maybe you can cook brunch and eat together before heading home.

The fridge is surprisingly well-stocked. There are eggs, beef, chicken, vegetables, and fruits. The cupboard is filled with cup noodles, chips, and snacks. You decide on a simple but hearty brunch—pancakes, scrambled eggs, and fresh fruit.

The rhythmic sizzle of the stove fills the apartment, and the aroma wafts into the bedroom. Hiori stirs awake, his hand instinctively reaching for the space beside him—empty.

She’s gone. 

Panic rises in his chest as his eyes snap open, heart pounding. Memories of last night flood back, and he bolts upright, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He hurriedly gets up and stumbles into the hallway, his heart racing.

Then, he sees you in the kitchen, wearing his shirt and humming softly as you tidy up the countertops. You’re on your phone, replying to your roommate to inform her that you are indeed alive and kicking. The tension in his body melts instantly, especially when you pout for the camera and snap a quick selfie to send to your roommate as "proof of life," as you call it.

You take the plates and notice him looking a bit dazed.

“You’re up,” you greet him with a smile. “I hope you don’t mind me raiding your kitchen.”

Relief washes over his face, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “Ya scared me. I thought ya left.”

You tilt your head, your expression softening. “Why would I just leave?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he walks over to stand beside you, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he absentmindedly tugs at the hem of the shirt you’re wearing.

 “It smells good,”  he murmurs, his voice warm against the shell of your ear as he takes a plate from your hands.

You and Hiori sit at the small dining table. Hiori has done the liberty of putting on some sweatpants and a shirt.

Thank God, or he might’ve been my breakfast, you think.

He takes a bite of the pancakes, his expression shifting into one of pleasant surprise.

“This is really good,” he says between bites.

You grin. “Not bad for someone who usually orders takeout, huh?” 

You pop a piece of sliced apple into your mouth, watching him while sneaking a quick peek at your phone when it vibrates with a message from your roommate.

Hiori leans back, his eyes lingering on you. “Stay a little longer.” His voice softens, hesitant. 

“You don’t have to go home immediately. I just... I don’t want ya feelin’ like ya hafta rush off.”

You smile, your chest tightening with a mix of surprise and affection. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

After brunch, you decide to take a shower. Hiori lends you a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a loose shirt. The clothes are oversized, practically swallowing your frame, and Hiori can’t help but smile at how cute you look in his clothes.

Once you're done, he takes his turn in the shower, emerging moments later in similar attire—black sweatpants, but he opts for a black hoodie instead.

When he steps into the living room, he finds you on the floor, flipping through old photo albums and yearbooks that he must’ve taken from his home. It’s been years since he’s touched them. You’re currently looking at photos and clippings from his Blue Lock days.

He sits beside you and starts walking you through the memories. There’s one photo of the Blue Lock team celebrating after their victory against the U20 team. Isagi’s arm is slung over his shoulder, pulling him close as they all smile together.

Another photo shows the Bastard Munchen team at the start of the Neo Egoist League. The group is stiff, awkward, but undeniably cute—especially the younger Noel Noa standing in the middle of a group of teenage boys. You spot Hiori between Isagi and Ness, wearing the same jersey, his face deadpan as ever. The boyish energy surrounding him makes it just so endearing.

As Hiori recalls some fun stories behind the photos, you snap pictures of them. When he asks why, you casually answer, “For my personal photo album collection.”

While Hiori fires up the PS5, your eyes catch a familiar cutout. It’s the clipping of the article you first wrote about Bastard Munchen earlier this season. The sight of it brings a nostalgia, and you pause for a moment, letting the emotion wash over you before carefully closing the album.

You both settle onto the couch, deciding to play Overcooked 2. It was meant to be a chill game (Hiori’s words, not yours) but your competitive streak kicks in, and suddenly you’re both obsessed with earning three stars on every level without missing a single order.

It’s chaotic and hilarious. Hiori doubles over with laughter, teasing you for taking it so seriously. But your energy is infectious, and soon, he’s caught up in the challenge as well. For a while, everything else fades away—the world outside no longer matters. It’s just the two of you, working in sync, caught up in the frantic fun of the game.

Then, a sudden realization dawns on Hiori. One night, the two of you were just casually playing online together, and now—here you are, comfortably (and fiercely) competing in his apartment, with nothing more than each other’s company to keep the world at bay.

The game is in full swing when a notification pings on the screen, briefly interrupting the action.

“What was that?” you ask, eyes flicking to Hiori.

A stream of messages floods the tv.

isagoat: hiori where d heck r u isagoat: check ur phone kyuuurona: check gc now!!! jintan: whos the girl raichinumbahwan: damn everyones panicking abt u rn and ur playing overcooked?!

Hiori picks up his phone, his brow furrowing as he scrolls through a deluge of messages in the Bastard München group chat.

Ness: look what i found /Hiori Ness: [image attachment link] Isagi: So this is why you were gone immediately? Igarashi: You were supposed to be my wingman last night /Hiori 🙁 Gesner: damn hiori has more rizz than raichi wwwww Kurona: [chiitan bonk gif]

Hiori clicks on the link from Ness, and you can’t help but peek over his shoulder. The screen loads a gossip article with a headline that's as bold as it is damning:

THE MOST ELUSIVE BASTARD MÜNCHEN MIDFIELDER CAUGHT KISSING A MYSTERY WOMAN AT THE JFA PARTY—AND LEAVING TOGETHER IN THE MIDDLE OF THE EVENT!

The accompanying photo is blurry, but unmistakable.

It’s you and Hiori, his navy-blue cardigan shielding most of you from view as he cradles your face, kissing you.

Your face pales. “Oh god…” You immediately cover your mouth, mortified.

Hiori groans, running a hand through his hair. “I knew someone’d see us. Shoulda been more careful.”

The two of you sit in stunned silence, staring at his phone as the comments continue to flood in beneath the gossip article. Some are playful, others more speculative:

Is the new girl a celebrity? Is she someone from JFA? Hiori Yo a womanizer?! Is Miss Journalist out of the picture? HioRizz caught on 4K Edited, that’s not Hiori lolol Does anyone else think she’s kinda familiar? Like I’ve seen her somewhere before. Hiori going public with a girl? Wild. Who’s next, Niko Ikki?

You scroll through them, a tinge of panic rising in your chest. The sudden spotlight is definitely not what you need right now. You don’t want to cause any trouble for Hiori—or yourself.

Especially not for him, since he’s already a public figure. Someone who’s been fiercely private about his personal life.

You glance up at him, worry etched on your face. “Hiori, this could cause problems for you, right?”

He meets your gaze, unwavering. “I don’t care what they say ‘bout me. M’more worried ‘bout ya. Are ya okay with this?”

“As long as you’re okay, I’ll be fine,” you reply, nodding more to reassure yourself than him.

Hiori notices the subtle shift in your expression, and without a second thought, he places his hand over yours.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, squeezing your hand gently. “We knew this could happen. Not this soon, but... I won’t let it get worse.I won’t say anythin’ about us till yer ready.”

You look up at him. “But what if they don’t leave you alone? What if they keep bothering you? I don’t want to cause you any problems this early on.”

The tension in the room begins to ease as the two of you talk through the complexities of the situation. Hiori leans back, propping his feet up on the coffee table, his fingers running through his hair in thought.

“We can’t ignore it,” he admits, his voice firm but calm. “Our lives are too connected, professionally and personally. The media will be watching, and people will wanna know more. But I don’t want that to dictate us, either.”

You nod, the weight of the situation sinking in. “It’s hard, though. I mean, we’re both in the public eye. You with your career, and me with mine. If this becomes a story, my job could get involved too.”

“I don’t want to put you on the spot, or make you uncomfortable, or—”

“Hey, hey.” He cuts you off, meeting your gaze. “Ya don’t hafta worry ‘bout me too much, alright?” His fingers intertwine with yours.

“But you—”

“It’s not just me in this. It’s both of us. So lemme worry ‘bout ya too, ‘kay?” He leans in and kisses you softly on the lips.

“We’ll figure it out together,” he assures you. “We don’t hafta let them dictate how we handle this. Not until we’re ready.”

You look at him, your heart swelling with appreciation for his honesty, his understanding. “We can keep it private for now, right?”

“For as long as ya need,” he says, his eyes soft with affection. “Let’s just focus on what we have. No distractions.”

The conversation lingers in the air, but Hiori gently pulls you into a quiet, comforting silence. After a few moments, he leans in, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead.

“This isn’t something we have to solve today,” he murmurs, his voice steady, calm. “Whatever happens tomorrow, we’ll deal with it. But right now, we’re here.”

You smile up at him, the warmth of his words melting the uncertainty that had been growing inside you. “And that’s enough, right?”

“Yeah,” he says with a gentle grin. “That’s enough.”

Hiori holds you close, his arms wrapping around you, and the noise of the outside world fades into nothingness. The article, the comments, the chaos—they’re all just background noise in your little bubble, and for the moment, that’s all that matters.

amari's notes: this is my fave chapter so far! i was originally making this a smut chapter (but i suck at writing one) and it didn't felt right for some reason with the both of them. but nevertheless, this one is really close to my heart, i love hiori and miss journalist's dynamic so much huhu anw, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask. i'll greatly appreciate it! Hope you all enjoy this chapter! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ (if you wanna join the taglist, just comment or send me a message!)

taglist: @inu1gf

[superbatsbison]

thinking of poly superbat x male reader

you and bruce are an established couple

ofc he eventually reveals the fact that he's batman to you

it gets to a point. especially since you're living together

afterward, you become more involved in both bruce and batman's life

because of this, occasionally, you run into some of the other members of the justice league

mainly clark

sorry, i mean superman

he's always hanging around the manor

going over cases with bruce

sometimes coming back with him after particularly grueling missions

and who are you to turn away a handsome face?

who said that 👀

at first clark is surprised that bruce has such a kind boyfriend

or any boyfriend at all really

he didn't peg bruce as being emotionally available. or into men....

ANYWAY

he obviously doesn't need help patching up like bruce does

but often times his mind wanders...

thinking about what he could do differently

What would happen if things went wrong.

soon, he finds himself zoning out in the batcave

and- oh? you're sitting by him

your soft gaze and strong hand rubbing his back helps to calm his racing thoughts

he finds it easy opening up to you

you sit and listen to his worries. giving your input when you think he's running circles in his mind

meanwhile, bruce is across the cave watching you two

he adores you for your big heart and caring nature

watching you comfort his closest friend makes him feel warm inside

he also can't help the passing thought that you two look good side by side

wait what....

maybe he should call it a night

but the pattern continues

you and bruce continue to grow closer to clark

often making him a topic of your conversation

and poor clark

clark feels terrible for the feelings he's developing for you both

i mean you're a couple for god's sake!

a very kind....generous....attractive couple....

is he a bad friend?

meanwhile, in gotham, you're asking yourself if you're a bad boyfriend

you feel like the worst partner ever

you love bruce so much

and yet you've been thinking about clark almost just as often

oh, what would bruce think if he knew.

pan to bruce, who's already clocked onto what's going on LMFAO

i mean, he's not the world's greatest detective for nothing

clearly, he can see clark and his boyfriend are developing something

and he should be angry. right?

hurt at the least?

but all he can manage to feel is endeared

he thinks about clark joining your relationship

treating clark the way he treats you

clark... treating you the way, bruce... treats you

oh my god he's bricked

flash forward to you two laying in bed together

😏

in the silence of the peaceful moment, him blurting out, "honey I think we have feelings for clark"

you shooting upright off his chest

after the initial panic fades you both finally talk it out

speaking of talking it out, poor clark is left to relay his miseries to lois

when he gets done describing all the events of the past couple of months, she starts to laugh

clark: what? 🥺

lois: they're totally trying to say they like your vibe

this gives him hope that he's not making things up

soon you three are back in the cave

except the energy tonight isn't solemn like usual

it's charged

you and clark are in your usual spots side by side

bruce in his chair with his mask and gloves off

eventually, your conversation with clark fades, and you're left looking into each other's eyes

you both lean in for a kiss

after a few moments, clark remembers himself and pulls away to look at bruce

his eyes are wide as he expects bruce to unleash his wrath

but instead, he simply stands and walks over to the pair of you

he sits behind you with a hand around your waist

his thumb rubbing up and down on your stomach

he reaches the other out and puts it on the back of clark's neck

using his leverage, he pulls clark into a kiss

they're both so much taller than you

they're practically kissing over your head

not that you're complaining

it's the perfect angle to plant your own little kisses underneath their jaws

there in your own little cuddle pile, you all confess to each other

clark is over the moon to have the affection of you both

he quickly finds a home in your dynamic

now, instead of having weekly post mission meet-ups in the cave, you all decompress in bruce's comically large bed

[growth-opportunities]

Interventions with the Best of Intentions, pt. 1

[A/N] Hi all! This is sort of my first venture into long-form writing. I was inspired by a brief exchange with @biggerbagingos, so I'm sure he and anyone who follows him already knows where this is headed. Also, heads up, this is gonna deal with some extreme sizes, much bigger than what I usually write about. This is part one of probably three, maybe four if I decide to pad things out. No hard timeline but I hope this gets people excited for the future! Without any further ado...

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The routine was one that Tiffany’s friends now found to be all too familiar. When she got upset, the first thing she did was gather up her long, red hair and throw it over her shoulder. This part was expected take a few seconds as her voluminous hair could be a bit unruly and often fall in front of her pale, freckled face. Once it was done, she took a deep breath, as deep as she possibly could. A second hung in the air, a brief, momentary pause, just holding the breath inside her. Then, she shoved her face into the deep crevice, the ravine, the canyon that was her cleavage and let out a long, muffled scream. It was amusing, though they wouldn’t tell her so, to watch her heave her breasts from beneath far enough to put her head between them, but in this instance, the table she sat at provided a perfect ledge on which to rest her breasts, sparing her arms the herculean lift.

This scream was particularly deep, Valerie silently noted while sipping her bubble tea, sitting across from her buxom friend. The table was on the far edge of a small strip mall, far away from any prying eyes and with virtually no chance of anyone eavesdropping. Between the autumn air and the tea, a slight chill was creeping in. For a moment, Valerie wished she hadn’t cut her dark hair so short, feeling goosebumps spread over her neck. She drew her denim jacket tighter around her slender shoulders, glancing down at her watch. Having known Tiffany since before her gargantuan breasts had even thought about beginning to grow, she knew she could count the number of lung refills like counting the rings of a tree to figure out just how frustrated her friend was. By the time Tiffany finally emerged from her own bosom, her throat burned. Valerie took another sip of her drink, reaching across the table to grab Tiffany’s drink and offer it to her, pushing the straw against Tiffany’s lips.

“Jeez, Tiff. A four? You didn’t even scream that much when you got your homecoming dress.”

Tiffany groaned, pounding her fist against the table, sending a ripple through her bust. She snatched the cup from Valerie’s hand and took a big, angry swig, as angry as one can be when drinking a Cookies ‘n’ Cream milkshake. “That was different.” Though the drink helped, screaming had left her voice hoarse. She lifted her head just far enough to put her arms under her chin, her breasts making for a soft pillow underneath. “At least then I had someone I could yell at instead of just the vague idea of ‘my hormones’ or ‘my genetics’. And, in fairness to her, the seamstress did apologize. I can’t really blame her for not believing the measurements I sent in.” Tiffany blew a puff of air upward, pushing a few strands of her hair out of her face. “This is just…” Tiffany took another deep breath, as if she was about to aim for a five, only to let it out in a defeated sigh.  “My fucking tits are already such a hassle, Val. I really don’t know if I can handle them getting much bigger. I’m gonna have to… I don’t know… carry them around in a wheelbarrow or something.”

Valerie let out a quick, wry chuckle. “Well, I’m sure you could find no shortage of guys and probably a good number of girls who would help push!”

Despite herself, Tiffany’s lips curled into a subtle smile. “I’m serious, Val! I really thought I was done growing and now… another growth spurt? My doctor told me I could literally double in size. I can’t even imagine that!” She fished one of her hands out from under her chin and lightly ran it over the upper swell of one of her tits, her oversized hoodie making them seem even softer.

“I’m already past conventional bra sizes, like, significantly. My boobs were big enough to get me out of running in gym class! Some girls are like ‘Ooh, look at me, I can almost fit half a beer bottle between my boobies’ but I could fucking bury a Stanley tumbler with room left over for another.  For all of this-“ She smacked the side of her tit, the impact rippling across her bust like a waterbed. “to double? I’d struggle to reach my own nipples, Val! I already kinda do! Fuck, I’d be at least fifty percent tit. Maybe closer to seventy-five. It doesn’t help matters that I’m more suited to be the basketball than to play it.” No one in her family was particularly tall, but the growth and weight of Tiffany’s breasts had kept her at a notably short stature, only reaching five feet when standing on her tiptoes, a dangerous feat considering how front-heavy she was. Her backside had a pleasant curve to it as well, but it was completely overshadowed by the gargantuan bust sloshing in front of her.

Valerie reached out and put her hand on her friend’s elbow, trying her best to be comforting. “Hey, your body is going to do what it’s going to do. No sense in worrying too much. You’ll roll with the punches and, no matter what, you’ve got Ol’ Val sticking by your side.” Tiffany smiled at the nickname, ironic considering that Valerie was exactly one month younger.

Another sigh rolled out between Tiffany’s lips. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right! You’re right. I’m still me. I’m more than just my boobs. No matter how big they get, I’m still Tiffany.”

Valerie’s grin took on a mischievous undertone, her brown eyes shining, as she quickly moved around to the other side of the table. She nudged her friend with her elbow, dropping her voice to a low whisper. “And I know that having a pair of big, soft tits isn’t all bad, is it?” Valerie and Tiffany were very close and there were few secrets between the two. Valerie pressed her finger deep into the soft, accepting side of Tiffany’s breast. The busty girl yelped in shock, only getting one or two syllables into asking what Valerie thought she was doing before the words were interrupted by a keening whimper. Blush surged into Tiffany’s cheeks and she once again returned her face to her cleavage, this time in embarrassment and arousal rather than frustration. She made a half-hearted attempt to push Valerie away, but the way her friend wiggled her finger, playing with her breast, made it hard to think. “Hnnngg… V-val… Not here…”

An impish giggle rose from Valerie, only stopping to lean in and give her friend a quick peck on the cheek. “Just wanted to remind you that there are some upsides to these things. Remember that one night when we got drunk and you were fucking begging me so I just kept sucking and sucking and sucking and-“

Tiffany shot upright, nearly dragging her tits off the table. Her cheeks ached with blush, close to bruising. “VALERIE!” It was a barely intelligible squeak, but it got the point across, Valerie breaking into laughter. She draped her arm over her friend’s back, rubbing her shoulders.

“Easy, baby. Relax. I’m just teasing. We should probably head over to the book store before it gets too late, yeah? I’ve been waiting weeks for them to get more of the next book in the Amethyst cycle.”

The words went in one of Tiffany’s ears and out of the other without touching anything in between. The busty girl could barely concentrate. All she could think about was how it would feel to have her breasts sucked while being twice as big. She might actually lose her mind. Beneath her sweatshirt, her nipples stiffened and quivered. She swallowed. “H-huh? Oh, yeah, let’s uh… let’s get out of here.” She winced as she stood, feeling her breasts slide along the table, bracing herself for the impact when they finally slipped off the edge and slapped into her torso. The two of them took a few steps towards Valerie’s car (The Val-mobile, as she called it) only for Tiffany to stop, reaching out for her friend’s sleeve. “Hey, uh, you meant what you said, right? About sticking with me no matter how big I get?”

Valerie smiled bright, leaning over to kiss the top of her friend’s head. Their developments had led them in very different directions; Tiffany grew outward while Valerie grew upward, nearly a foot taller than her friend and a modest handful on her chest, though anyone would look small next to Tiffany. “Of course, cutie. I love you. Always have. I’m with you no matter how big you get.”

A hint of panic crept into Tiffany’s voice. “But… But what if they don’t stop? And I’m just a fucking gross titty monster and I can’t even lift them anymore and I take up an entire room with just one of my boobs and-“

Valerie’s warm hands settled on Tiffany’s cheeks, tilting her up to look at her taller, slender friend. “No. Matter. How. Big. Okay? I mean it. You’re my best friend and that’s never, ever going to change.”

Tiffany nodded, letting her eyes close while she took a deep breath to center herself. When she let it out, she looked back up at Valerie. There was silence for a moment, a strange tension between them. Tiffany opened her mouth only to close it again. On her second attempt, she got it.

“M-more like breast friend, am I right?”

Valerie blinked before busting out in laughter. “You’re such a goofball, Jesus. See? Room-filling boobs aren’t going to take away that razor wit. Now, can we go already? I have to know what Iskandar and Alexan will do when they get to Drosenia. I swear to god, if there’s only one bed at that inn, I am going to flip.”

Now it was Tiffany’s turn to laugh. “Only you, Val. Only you.” The two chatted about the series and the improbably tense situations the characters found themselves in as they trudged to the car. No matter how many times she did it, Tiffany had yet to find a way to climb into the passenger seat gracefully, flopping down into the seat and letting her bust wobble on her chest. She was the only one who ever rode in that seat, so Valerie just left the seatbelt extender in place, letting Tiffany buckle it over her vast expanse of tit. She needed the extender even with it slightly inside her cleavage. The sensitivity of her bust reared its head once again as the engine turned over, sending vibrations through her body. As Valerie began to pull out of the parking spot, Tiffany mumbled a slightly embarrassed thanks for her friend’s care and understanding. Valerie didn’t need to reply, simply patting her friend’s thigh as the two hit the road.

The window was cool against Tiffany’s cheek as she stared wistfully out of it. She was still a bit apprehensive about growing – How could she not? – But at least, now, she felt a bit more secure in what the future could hold. As long as she had Valerie, someone to support her and care for her, nothing else mattered. And who knows? Maybe Val was right. Maybe there could be upsides to being so big.

[wisecura]

Sheets

megumi fushiguro x fem-reader

p.1

p.8  ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.11

p.10

Short summary: Your arranged marriage to Toji Fushiguro had been sudden and unexpected, but now you found yourself living under his roof alongside your moody stepson. Your only directive from your clan head before moving in was clear: keep a close eye on Toji, the notorious Sorcerer Killer, and his son, a potential sorcerer prodigy.

AN: can I make it up to you with a slightly longer chapter? please? sorry if this is a bit wordy, but enjoy. the next few chapters will have more momentum and movement. I'm still debating how messed up I want this story to be-- i tend to lean into the dark fic lines. i have a rough outline but....

warnings: this story may cover sensitive and uncomfortable topics. please read at your own risk, violence, lashings, blood, mental breakdowns, yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), hints at inappropriate thoughts, toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build.

thoughts and time changes

Lately, you’ve found yourself growing unexpectedly closer to Toji. 

There’s a subtle… warmth in him now that wasn’t there before, though he still remains quiet, never prying—and it all started after you returned from your clan house battered and bruised. When he was surprisingly gentle as he wordlessly patched you up. Yet, despite this newfound…what? fondness?—his frequent absences still plagued the house, never lingering longer than necessary, and more often than not, It was still just you and Megumi.

Megumi returned home for the summers—with that first one standing out as particularly difficult to navigate. 

The two of you fell back into that familiar closeness, as if the strained conversation from before had never happened. As if he hadn't ever avoided you in the first place. He never spoke about it, opting to steer clear from any conversation that seemed too personal. Yet, this left you with a lingering uncertainty that seemed to hang over every interaction—never knowing if he might suddenly pull away or how his mood might change—keeping you constantly on edge around him.

And how could you bring it up? No, you’d much rather keep things peaceful—safe, between the two of you. 

Despite all of your “concerns”, he slipped back into his touchy, almost affectionate habits—perhaps even more so than before, seemingly fine for the most part. The anger and blatant irritation that once defined him, present in his every interaction with Toji, had given way to a stoic calmness—a neutrality that left you feeling a bit happier. He changed so much, yet felt so familiar in so many ways.

And it was that same composure that made him so hard to read, leaving you endlessly guessing at what he didn't say. You definitely can't say you knew him as well as you did before.

Megumi’s thoughts drifted back to his first year at Jujutsu High.

A plethora of new faces and challenges—meeting his classmates had been, to put it mildly, eventful. There was Gojo Satoru, for one. His arrogant and self-absorbed teacher, who seemed far too amused by his own power and status as the strongest sorcerer. Easily the most skilled, he pushed Megumi all year to become a better version of himself, taking an interest in his background with the Zenin Clan. Annoying as it was, Megumi had to admit—thanks to the blue eyed freak, he understood his potential far better than he ever had before. 

Then there was Yuji Itadori. The reckless idiot who, in a moment of pure desperation and absolute insanity, swallowed one of Ryomen Sukuna’s fingers. Even now, Megumi couldn’t shake the guilt. If only he’d been faster, stronger—he might’ve stopped it. Might’ve saved Yuji from a path that tore his life apart.

Yet, despite it all, he became what Megumi would consider a friend. Easily the biggest doof he'd ever met—somehow managing to be both absurdly reckless and irritatingly good-hearted, resembling you in a weird way. Despite knowing him for such a short time, they’d already faced more together than most do in a lifetime.

And meeting Nobara Kugasaki. A girl he initially thought of as only loud and annoying, proved to be more than capable in more ways than one. Somehow, she managed to grow on him, though not without constantly provoking his every last nerve. Even worse than Toji did—a feat he hadn't thought possible.

He’d been careful not to tell you too much, as hard as it was when he saw your face waiting for him the moment he walked through that front door—a sight for sore eyes if there ever was one. His first year had been chaotic, after all, but he hadn’t lied to you… just carefully sidestepped the truths. You poked and prodded for answers, but he remained evasive, selectively sharing only what he thought was safe for someone as precious as you.

Those text messages you sent? He couldn’t bring himself to respond much—not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t stand the thought of making you worry. Your messages were always so short, almost hesitant—yet somehow, impossibly cute. Strangely endearing in a way that made him smile without meaning to. And they had him staring at his phone far longer than he’d ever admit. Long enough for Yuji to notice, of course, grinning as he tried to snatch the phone from Megumi’s hands, teasing him mercilessly about some "mysterious girlfriend."

There was no way in hell he’d let Sukuna’s vessel or his creepy teacher know about you—let alone meet you. Gojo probably had some inkling about your presence in his life—after all, who in Jujutsu society wasn’t at least vaguely aware of an arranged marriage? Especially one involving someone he had only recently discovered was as much of a social pariah as his father. But even if Gojo knew, Megumi was certain it was only through word of mouth alone, and he intended to keep it that way. You were a part of his life that he refused to let this chaos touch.

But they were good people—people who made him question everything he thought he knew about himself. What kind of person did he want to become? What kind of lives did he want to protect? The answer always circled back to you. You were his constant, the standard by which he measured everything. Someone who deserved better, someone who had endured far more than anyone should, and someone he would never stop trying to be worthy of.

He hated the unfairness of it all. Despised it—the sheer injustice of everything you had endured. The crushing expectations your clan had forced upon you, the suffocating marriage to his father, the unrelenting sense of entrapment that shadowed your every step. None of it was right. And the more he learned from Gojo, the angrier he became. A power system designed to crush those deemed weak or inferior, wielded to maintain a twisted hierarchy.

The true difference between you and Megumi was your golden heart—your unwavering care and strength, even in the face of how he knew you were likely treated within your clan. And yet, it was him who was being praised, lauded for qualities he wasn’t sure he deserved credit for.

That first year had taught him plenty. He’d solidified his choices, made his intentions clear, fully understanding what he was stepping into. And Megumi wasn’t just reflecting on these wrongs—he was determined to set them right, no matter the cost.

To him, you didn’t belong to anyone else—least of all his father. You were his. The very thought of you leaving, of slipping beyond his reach, sent a sharp, desperate ache through his chest. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t. He’d free you—not just from the chains of your family or his father, but so you could truly be free. Free to choose him. To stay by his side. Always. Forever. Exactly where you belonged.

All he needed was for you to wait for him. Just a little longer.

After that long, grueling first year at school, Megumi finally got to see your beautiful face again. The way your smile lit up the room, the teasing lilt in your voice as you poked fun at him—it was enough to completely unravel him inside. It quietly reassured him that you still cared, easing the self-consciousness that had lingered since the day he left. Somehow, despite everything, it still felt the same. Like nothing had changed. Like home.

He had to restrain himself when he came back—the overwhelming urge to pull you close, to kiss you like he’d always dreamt of, nearly getting the better of him. But no—he wouldn’t risk it. He couldn’t scare you away, not when having you near again felt like the only thing keeping him steady.

And he didn’t want you worrying about him, either. The probing questions you had? He’d place those on the backburner for now. Maybe even forever. That wasn’t what he needed from you. The thought of seeing your broken expression, your worry etched into every line of your face, was enough to haunt him. You were his light, his solace—and he’d do whatever it took to keep it that way.

Since coming back, Megumi had been careful—deliberate—in carving out his place in your life. Every move he made, every word he spoke, was measured and planned, more so than ever before. Subtly, almost imperceptibly, he had begun reshaping the way you saw him. He dropped small, seemingly innocent comments here and there, gently steering your attention toward him and away from anyone else—especially his father. Subtlety was key, he figured.

Every look, every gesture, was a calculated effort to blur the boundaries between you, to shift the nature of your relationship without you even realizing it. He wasn’t content with simply being part of your life—he was determined to make himself the center of it.

He worked tirelessly. 

He regretted pulling away before, but if school had taught him anything, it was to cherish these fleeting moments with you. And each day, it seemed his efforts were paying off. You turned to him more often now, seeking his presence, his reassurance. Every question you asked, every flash of that radiant smile, felt like a step closer to what he wanted—to what he needed.

But it still wasn’t enough. He could tell you didn’t see him the way he saw you, didn’t feel the same pull that consumed him. The way he craved you. It ate away at him, the frustration building with every stolen glance, every moment he found himself aching for more. More than your smile, more than your laughter—he wanted all of you, and the thought of waiting drove him mad. He wanted your everything.

At least your eyes were still on him. At least you still cared. For now, that would have to be enough. 

But he wasn’t going to stop. He couldn’t. You’d realize it eventually—you had to. And when you did, he’d be there, ready to claim the place in your heart that was always meant for him.

Before you knew it, Megumi was heading back to school, leaving the house quieter than usual. You’d been bracing yourself for another inevitable summons from your clan, surprised by their unusual silence. It was an uncharacteristic delay, one that left you both relieved and unsettled.

When the message finally arrived, it was as if the air grew heavier around you. Steeling yourself, you went, prepared for the worst, knowing all too well the weight that came with their demands. The possibility for retaliation. No. the absolute for retaliation. 

As expected, you were met with the same barrage of insults, the words slicing through you with their usual sharpness. But this time, there were no lashings, no physical punishment to endure. The absence of that particular cruelty felt like a small, bittersweet victory. You carried the weight of their scorn on your way home but couldn’t help feeling a tinge of relief that it hadn’t been worse.

Toji was home that day—a surprise that caught you off guard, especially since you’d texted him earlier about your meeting with the clan. He’d mentioned being tied up on another one of his long-winded trips, at least for the next few days. Yet here he was.

He greeted you with his usual detached demeanor, but his eyes betrayed him, scanning you with unnerving precision—a deliberate, assessing once-over that made your stomach twist. Before you could fully process it, he stepped closer, his presence effortlessly commanding the space between you. Instinctively, you recoiled in surprise, but it didn’t deter him.

Without a word, his hand moved with an almost lazy confidence, slipping under the back of your shirt. The warmth of his palm against your skin sent a jolt through you, heat rushing to your cheeks as the intimacy of the gesture froze you in place. You couldn’t move, caught entirely off guard by his boldness, the casual intensity of his touch leaving you breathless and unsure of what to say.

“Relax,” he murmurs, a teasing lilt coloring his voice. His fingers trailed lightly across your skin, as though searching for something. It didn’t take long for him to pause, clearly not finding what he was looking for. With a quiet chuckle, he pulled his hand back, a smirk curving his lips as his eyes locked onto yours.

“Clean this time, huh? Guess they decided to play nice.”

You couldn’t tell if his words were meant to mock or comfort, but the way his eyes lingered on you left your pulse racing, your breath catching in your throat. He stepped back, the teasing edge in his demeanor—his gaze, softening ever so slightly before he turned away, leaving you rooted to the spot.

The warmth of his palm still clung to your skin, your mind spinning, cheeks burning a vivid red. He’d never been this handsy before, but you knew exactly what he was searching for. What you couldn’t quite grasp was why it seemed to matter to him. Then again, when had Toji ever made sense to you? 

You and Megumi had been exchanging texts more frequently than ever. It wasn’t something you had expected, but it started after he seemed to notice how upset his silence left you. The habit picked up when he returned to school for his second year. Whether it was guilt or something else driving his newfound consistency, you couldn’t deny the quiet relief that warmed your chest each time your phone pinged with his name.

Megumi’s birthday came and went, and for the first time, you felt comfortable enough to text him without hesitation, inviting him home for a small celebration. "Bring your new friends!" you added hopefully, sprinkling in an emoji or two to lighten the tone.

His reply came swiftly, cutting through your excitement—though, deep down, you should’ve expected it.

"I can’t. I have a mission coming up. I won’t be able to make it."

The disappointment settled heavily in your chest, but you tried not to push. The memory of his last birthday lingered in your mind, making you wonder if he avoided these moments on purpose. Megumi was never the social type, but you couldn’t help wanting to meet his friends, to see the people he spent so much of his time with. And, if you were honest, you missed him. The house always felt quieter, emptier, without him around.

Later that evening, however, your phone buzzed with an unexpected surprise. A picture.

It was Megumi, his expression as stoic and neutral as ever. Standing beside him was a pink-haired boy who couldn’t have been more of a contrast—wide-eyed, grinning ear to ear, brimming with an energy that practically leapt off the screen. The backdrop was lively, vibrant, a fleeting glimpse into the life Megumi was living far away from you. 

You lingered on the photo, your fingers brushing lightly over the screen. For all your probing and insistence on wanting to meet his friends, wanting to see him again, you were surprised he’d sent anything at all. Megumi had always been evasive, but this felt like a compromise—his way of meeting you halfway.

He looked… different. He had been looking different for a while now—since arriving at that school. Once again, as always when you saw him, you couldn’t help but notice how much he’d grown. He wasn’t just older; he was changing. Growing up. Making friends. Breaking free from his shell. Enjoying his life in a way you hadn’t seen before.

For a fleeting moment, pride swelled in your chest—warm and undeniable—only to be chased by a bittersweet ache. He was different, and though you were happy for him, the realization of how little he shared with you felt suffocatingly lonely.

And you couldn't help but feel a little…jealous. 

The next summer passes much the same, uneventful but filled with moments of quiet reflection. Your clan has kept their distance physically, but their questions have grown intense, more persistent. They never hit you again, though the threat was always there. Prodding for details you refuse to give, their subtle questions suggesting they have something more planned—something you can’t quite decipher yet.

When Megumi returns, it’s impossible to ignore how much he’s changed toward you. At seventeen now, he towers over you—maybe even reaching Toji’s height. His lean frame is noticeably stronger, and his presence feels heavier, more grounded. He still leans on you in his quiet, familiar way—that same energy that had always lingered between you stubbornly remained. But now, it felt… different. A little harder to ignore. A little harder to navigate.

It catches you off guard sometimes, especially when his eyes seem to linger on you just a bit too long. You’d always shrugged it off—those previous years, Toji’s words, even Megumi’s actions. A crush. That’s all it was. A fleeting, innocent crush. One you never addressed, one you assumed he’d outgrow. He’d figure out soon enough where you stood in his life.

But there was something unspoken in his gaze now, something that left your heart uneasy and your thoughts spiraling. You couldn’t help but think back to his bedroom, the night before he first left for school—the way the air had felt heavy, the unspoken tension hanging there ever since. His promise to protect you. That anger of you dismissing him. 

That third summer at home felt different—unsettlingly so. The reminder of how much he’d grown. The uncomfortable realization of how much you’d come to lean on him in return. But most of all, the subtle shift in how he acted around you, how he spoke to you, how his presence seemed to take up more space.

Your relationship with him had already felt off before. What could you even do about it now? Especially when he wasn't going to talk about it first?

Yes, that summer was a strange one.

Megumi was determined to win you over.

He was close—so close. With just one more year left until graduation, his plans were nearly complete. All that remained was you.

But despite the way you turned to him more often, leaned on him in ways that only fueled the fire of his obsession, your affection stubbornly stayed confined within the boundaries of platonic care. And for Megumi, that wasn’t enough—not even close.

But despite the way you turned to him more often, leaned on him in ways that only fueled the fire of his obsession, your affection stubbornly stayed confined within the boundaries of platonic care. And for Megumi, that wasn’t enough—not even close.

So he made sure you noticed. Made sure you saw just how much he’d grown.

He began wearing less clothing around the house, casually shirtless as he passed you in the hall, his lean, sculpted frame brushing just close enough for you to feel him. Bare skin ghosting against yours in fleeting touches that lingered in your mind. His voice dipped lower in the mornings, rich and deep as he greeted you, leaning in just a little too close as he reached for one thing or another. The subtle pink that crept into your cheeks didn’t escape him—and he enjoyed every second of it.

His touches grew more deliberate, yet always subtle enough to avoid suspicion. Fingers grazing your waist as he passed, lingering just a beat too long on your arm, or a hand ghosting over the nape of your neck in what seemed like an accident. But none of it was accidental.

It was all calculated—every movement, every look, designed to pull your attention, to fluster you, to shift how you saw him. Like a predator circling its prey, he was patient, methodical, and utterly focused. 

And you… you were quite the prize. Every day, he admired you, every glance fueling the fire that burned inside him. The more he pushed, the more flustered you seemed to get, each reaction feeding his obsession. But no matter how carefully he set his traps, how hard he tried to shift the dynamic, you remained painfully oblivious.

If you noticed the changes in him, you didn’t let on—offering only the small, well-meaning comments of someone watching a child grow. But Megumi couldn’t ignore the cracks in your composure, the way your voice faltered or how your cheeks burned when he walked around shirtless. Because really—what mother blushes that much when her stepkid walks by?

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

But Megumi wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot.

As the summer wore on, his patience began to wane. Subtlety had carried him far, but now it felt too slow, too restrained. His tactics shifted, his determination sharpening. He wanted something more, something that would bring him closer to you—something impossible to ignore.

p.9

p.11

come home

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Lilia Silver's father telling Eric Venue that "Hey we should found NRC Single Father Alliance, and I can totally share with you my babysitting and cooking tips!!!"

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

“Single Father Alliance?” Eric lowered his sunglasses. Surprise danced in his glittering violet eyes.

"That's right~" chirped the short man beside him. He kicked his legs playfully, as if he were seated on a playground swing and not a luxurious sofa in the Pomefiore lounge.

Eric crossed his legs and laced his fingers together, setting them on his thighs. He angled his body forward slightly--showing interest, but not full commitment. As a seasoned star, he knew how to wield his clout and charm like weapons.

He brushed a lock of flaxen hair from his forehead, switching roles. The kind, doting dad was stashed away, and out came the business whiz and movie star tycoon.

"... You have my intrigued. Tell me more about your proposal." His tone was friendly, but his words had a hefty weight to them. It was as if each was a brick, laid down one by one to craft a fortress.

"Most parents or guardians come as a pair." Lilia held up two index fingers, making them touch. "There are challenges only we as single fathers experience and understand. Is it not wise, then, for us to band together? There is strength to be found in numbers... and in sharing knowledge."

"Hmm, you make a strong case." Eric stroked his bearded chin. "And you made mention of sharing your babysitting and cooking tips earlier? I take it you are confident in those skills."

"Certainly! I'll have you know that I frequently host my son's childhood friend. I once nursed a bat back to health before releasing it into the night. For a short while, I even tended to a very special egg." Lilia giggled, a proud smile spreading on his lips. "My cooking is second to none! One bite is all it takes to knock you out and send you straight to heaven!"

"Really!" Surprise lit up Eric's famously handsome face. "Your resume sounds about as stacked as the elite nanny I hired for Vil in his childhood."

"My, a nanny?" Lilia's eyes crinkled. "Mmm... I suppose it is a necessity for a man as busy as yourself. But if that's the case, perhaps you won't find much use for my tips."

"Haha, don't be mistaken. I did rely on hired help back then, but I do make time even now to spend with my dear Vil. Movie outings, arts and crafts at home, spa nights..." His gaze softened, and there was a real warmth threading his voice. "After all, he's the apple of my eye--and he always will be."

Lilia clutched at his heart. "... Such a pure, true love. Kufufu, yes, yes, having an honorable man like yourself on the Single Father's Alliance would put my weary old soul at ease. It would reassure me that our future is in safe hands."

"Weary old soul? You barely seem a day over high school age yourself."

Or at least that's what Eric thought. Most of the time when he snuck a glance at this chap, he seemed young. The height, his mannerisms. But his voice and the advice he dispensed with it was deep and worn with wisdom, and sometimes creases and wrinkles appeared where they weren't before.

"I can share my anti-aging secrets with you as well," Lilia offered with a cheeky wink.

"You drive a hard bargain--but I'm afraid I'll have to decline. It's not that you don't make a tempting offer or that I think I'm the perfect father. It's that my Vil's an adult now, and I want to give him that time and space he needs to grow and learn... without me stepping for him. I'll be there for him if he needs it, but Vil's path is his ultimately his own--end of story."

"... What a shame." The fae slowly shook his head. "That's alright though, I accept your decision on account of that moving speech you delivered. That, and I could tell from listening to you speak that you already know what you're doing."

There is nothing left for me to teach you. I know you'll be able to figure things out on your own.

Lilia curled a hand against his chest.

To have a father such as you... Vil is very fortunate indeed.

[tinylilacbun]

OMG HIHIHI now I can pciture like, a dark!jj starting to feel his obsession be born in the very moment he lay his eyes on her from affar. And he watches her all the time, to how long she takes to take sip after sip of her drink until random things like who she talks to people around her and walks. And it scares even himself (at least at the begining), this new.. dark and delicious feeling he can't name it, he just knows it increases every time he sees her. Maybe it's the contrast of their nature, it's what he tries to tell himself. Maybe it's how his is so full of anger and complications and hers is so... pure. Full of light. All he knows is that the feeling inside him is growing and turning into a sentence in the back of his head that gets louder and louder: he needs her. He has to have her. One way or another.

Geez sorry the delulu in me got the hots and just went with the flow I guess

THATS EXACTLY WHAT I THOUGHT!!

He doesn't know why he's so intrigued with you, why he's interested in a kook of all people, but you're different, not all bitchy and spoiled or thinking you're something better than the pogues.

You're sweet, almost too pure, and he just can't help himself but keep his eyes on you the second he catches a glimpse of you at a keg party on the beach.

He studies how you don't really drink from your cup, only taking small sips as if you're scared to get caught, clenching his jaw when he sees Rafe draping an arm over your shoulder as you giggle at something he said.

That psychotic drug addict should be the last person you stand close to, but it's not surprising, you're a sight for sore eyes but JJ knows that the kook prince only looks for a little fun, not for the interesting person you actually are.

JJ thought it was just the alcohol that night that made him so obsessive over someone who he never really talked to, but somehow he finds himself coincidentally seeing you around Kildare more often...

It gets so bad that he even starts to sneak onto your family's property, hiding behind some bushes as he gets a clear view of your room from your open window, watching you get ready for bed.

You turn off the light of your vanity mirror, getting up and stifling a yawn as you walk towards your bed, carefully slipping under the soft covers and making sure that none of your plushies fall on the ground.

JJ is about to leave when you suddenly reach under your pillow and pull out a small Lovie, but what really gets his attention is when you push the attached pacifier past your lips, getting more comfortable on your bed.

Now that's even more interesting.

A few more weeks of watching you and doing his own research on his phone he thinks that he knows what this is that you're doing, that state you seem to revert to for whatever reason he hasn't figured out yet.

Normally he would just ask Pope, but he doesn't want any of his friends knowing or thinking about him being some creep that's been watching you for about a month now.

His obsession only grows the more he finds out about you, not being able to control himself anymore as he quietly climbs in through your window one night, that small voice in his head being more prominent every time he sees you and getting the better of him.

He feels completely out of place, the clean and neatly organized room mocking his appearance, but it's oddly calming with the fairy lights that adorn the headboard on your bed and the faint scent of the lavender candle that's lit up on your nightstand.

Finally his gaze lands on your sleeping figure, all snuggled in your sheets and a bunny plushie tucked under your chin as the pacifier slowly bobs in your mouth.

He knows this is sick, that he shouldn't even be here, but a part of him doesn't even care, only thinking about satisfying his need to be close to you to make that voice finally shut up for a while.

Standing beside your bed he tilts his head to the side, almost cooing at how adorable you look and completely unaware of him right next to your bed, cautiously reaching out to caress your cheek.

"I'll take care of you soon...just gotta prepare everything." He whispers more to himself. "I just need some more time but don't worry, I'll keep an eye on you until then."

You will be his, no matter what it takes, you'll understand one day and thank him for saving you.

But who's saving you from him?

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16 @sweetstars-posts @rafecameronsloverrrrr @rafenroostersgirl

For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva

[xetlynn]

an artists muse- a viktor fic.

eleven.

[ten] [eleven] [twelve]

faithful to its nature, its power never diminished.

Arms wrap around you sweetly, you lean into it. Wanting nothing more but to stay in the moment. “you’re so pretty.” And you look over to see Viktor. You smile, going in to place a kiss on his lips. It was perfect. The room was dark, only dimly lit by the laptop screen that played…

That played um… What is it playing? You pull away from the kiss, to look over at the device that was beginning to look weird. “What the-” “[Name]?” You look back over to Viktor who was now replaced by Powder. Your best friend. You furrow your eyebrows, slightly in disgust. You blink a few times.

“What?” You rasp and you hear Powder laugh, her arm rested on your waist as the two of you lay together on your bed watching a show. “Dude, you passed out.” She announces. “We’ve only watched one episode.” She tells you and you scrunch your face. Trying to register what was happening. “Sorry.” 

She raises a brow at you. “Have a nightmare or something?” Powder sits up, her arm going back to her own side. You frown momentarily at the loss of her warmth. “No, I- it was stupid.” You shrug your shoulders, sitting up as well. Staring down at your fingers as your face grows flustered. “Tell me about it.” 

You think back to the short, painfully short dream. “It was about Viktor. For the hundredth time.” You sigh, annoyed with your own brain. Creating such imagery in your own head that you now have to think about when you’re conscious. “Mm, not surprised.” Powder huffs out a laugh, leaning into you as she also pauses the show. “Thanks.” You scoff, sliding off the bed to stretch out your limbs. 

“No problem, but seriously I have a question.” Your best friend follows suit, jumping on the ground. Surely to give you guys another complaint by the people underneath you. “What?” You ask, heading over to your desk, plopping down on the rolly chair.

“Do you love him or something?” The question catches you off guard and your eyes almost pop out of your own head. “Love?” You repeat.

“Yeah, if I’m wrong you can tell me but I only ask because this is like a heartbreak [Name]. I’ve never seen you this… disheveled over any break ups you’ve had.” Powder explains her reasoning. 

And thinking back to it, she’s right. With your past relationships, that was official, you’ve never really given it another thought when it ended. It was over and yeah you were sad for a little bit but this is different.

Your chest ached with the mention of Viktor. In most dreams there he existed, holding and loving you, and each time you pleaded it was real when you wake up. Only to be left with the harsh reality that you ruined that chance of being tangible.

You beat yourself up every second you're alone. 

“I don’t know. It had only been two-three weeks of getting to know one another. I feel love is a strong word for that.” You tell her truthfully. “Did you love him when he was your online friend?” She inquires and your eyes travel over to your phone. “I had love for him. He was a close friend but can you fall in love with someone you technically never met?” You question, it was something you asked yourself quite a lot. Did you love Ma? Could you fall for someone you never saw face to face. Was that possible? And if it was, is it pathetic? 

“I think so, I mean you know who he is now. Is the feeling the same for both?” 

“Why are you interrogating me?” You ignore the last sentence, now feeling on edge on how deep this was getting. “Just curious.” She hums. “I don’t know the answer.” And truthfully you didn’t. 

Love? You don’t even know if you’ve ever truly loved someone. As time passed you believed you weren’t capable of loving someone more than a friend. With your exes it never felt right. In those relationships you were honestly miserable. No motivation, putting on a mask, and not being true to yourself. 

You couldn’t enjoy your interests. Your art is forgotten about.

With Ma… or Viktor. Both. That never happened. If anything you were more motivated.

In high school you stayed up until ungodly hours, painting, sketching out sculptures based on the sound of Ma’s voice. The colors you saw, the feelings you felt all put into your art. 

Specifically the crowd paintings you created. Crowds of people. Crowds of familiar faces but not the one you wanted to see. A face that you hadn’t gotten the chance to meet blurred out but facing you in each painting. Only one figure that stood there, staring back at you. No features attainable to recognize.

And you hated it. You wanted to know who it was.

“Wonderful ideas, wonderful models. I don’t think I’ve had such intelligent and creative students as I do this year. Take this time to inspect others' projects and mingle with one another.” Your biology professor tells the class, everyone of you standing up to his directions. 

Viktor and you stick together, unintentionally throughout the room. No words said between either of you.

You admire your fellow classmates' work, clicking through the slides on each laptop. Reading thoroughly through their slides. Silently gushing at the way they decorated their boards. Viktor observes you the entire time. 

The words of his friends stick in his mind. You don’t entirely seem upset? But if they had seen it themselves, surely they’re not lying to him. His eyes scanned your face closely. A hardened gaze, his jaw clenching subconsciously.

Did he want to see you upset? Why would he want that? To know you’re hurting just as much as he is? Would he wish that pain on someone he lo- he respects? 

No, he wouldn’t.

You look back at him with a polite smile. “Right?” His eyebrows furrow, confused. “What?” He asks hesitantly, his cheeks fell warm as he is put on the spot by you. You snicker. “I said, their work is so organized, maybe the two of you would hit it off.” You repeat, your breath now caught in your throat. Wondering if that was too friendly too soon. He glances over to the people’s work. 

It had no color, monotonous and tidy. Is that what you think of him? Bland, tasteless and… boring? 

His head bows down, a ghost of a nod. “Sure.” He dryly replies, unfortunately feeding into your worries. “Did I say something wrong?” You quietly inquire as you guys head to the next board. A clique of students pushing past you. 

“No?” He averts your eye contact. Was he actually upset that you think of him like that? 

“Oh.” You puff out your cheeks, not knowing what else to say.

The voices of others cover the awkward beats of silence between the two of you.

“Am I that mundane to you?” He was almost inaudible when he asked the sudden question. You cock your head to the side. Your mouth opens to answer but he lets out a scoff shaking his head.

“Don’t answer that.” He walks ahead of you. 

Mundane? Why would he think that? You pointed out the person’s tidiness because of how put together Viktor is. You admired that.

He preferred things a certain way, his room showed that. He still had a personality outside of that. His energy drew you in. The way he held himself, the enigmatic essence but also the familiarity you felt.

And now you know the familiarity was Ma. They were the same person.

Ma used to tell you about the moon and constellations for hours. He enjoyed star gazing. He enjoyed reading and learning about living beings. Their struggles. But also their potential to be more than who they were raised to be. 

He was far from mundane. Viktor was more than who he thought himself to be. In your eyes he was far better than perfect. There wasn’t a word for how you perceived him. Because every word seemed minimal in comparison to what you felt.  

“You found your muse?” You hear your professor behind you. You glare down at your paper then up to them. “What? No, look at this.” You express, lifting up the sketch and shaking it dramatically. “I am. It seems you found it.” They place a gentle hand upon your shoulder. 

You drew a crowd. Just like your millions upon millions of paintings posted on your instagram. How is a crowd of people your muse? Your eyebrows knit together and you look up to Dr. Shoola once more. “This is just a random sketch?” You say in more of a question. You were confused. You drew this often, but it’s not your muse. 

“You’re a silly one, [Name].” They pat your shoulder, moving onto Ekko’s sketch in front of you. Your eyes land back at the sheet of paper. Found your muse? Where?

You observed your own drawing. What are you not seeing?

This is short, I did it on purpose because twelve and thirteen are going to be longer. :) And honestly I do have a concussion and this took me hours. I probably shouldn't have been on my laptop the way I was but I had to post thisssss.

Two more chapters left.

Taglist: @policedeer @ang3lz-lov3 @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @confusedgemposts @corpsepies @almostdrowningdown @obittwo @ren-ni @xx-siren-sings-xx @donnie-is-here @urmommt