#it's so much fun and it means to me so much!!

[mkthedingus]

“Struggling to keep up?” ... “I was just trying to go at a pace that wouldn’t leave you in the dust!”

A painting for Chapter 21 of @nebrasska-alasska's fanfic, The Secrets In Our Quills. This scene means so much to me and I've had so much fun staring out my inbox waiting for a new chapter every week. Go check out the rest of their writing, their works are unmatched! (Nebrasska I love your writing sm 😭 It's legitimately one of the best contributions to the fandom and inspired me to start drawing again)

[agentstarkid]

YOU'RE THE ONE (TO MAKE ME LOSE MY MIND) ✦ AZRIEL

✦ SUMMARY: Azriel prided himself on restraint—on silence, shadows, and secrets. But you, with your unshaken confidence and maddening obliviousness, were testing every last thread of his sanity. As chaos ensues, the Shadowsinger realizes one thing: he might be doomed.

✦ WORD COUNT: 1.2K

✦ WARNINGS: crack fic, archeron!sister (briefly mentioned), miscommunication, angsty fluff and humor (maybe??), obliviousness, azriel is stressed and about to have an aneurysm—azriel fanart by harleetattoos

✦ MAY'S RADIO: this was a fun little experiment 😅 azzie boy is a certified swiftie™ 😆 i hope this is somewhere close to what you had in mind, lili bestie! -> based on this post by @lili-of-the-wildfire 🖤

< back to general masterlist

Azriel was losing his damn mind.

He had spent centuries perfecting the art of self-control—of mastering his shadows, his emotions, his very existence. But this? This was unraveling him at the seams.

And he was at his limits.

Not the normal limit, like when Cassian got a little too rowdy or Rhysand smirked a little too much. No. This was a whole new brand of suffering.

Since the moment you were thrown into the Cauldron, he had kept his distance—watching, waiting, giving you space to adjust to your new life, to the Night Court, to him. Knowing how difficult it was for your sisters, knowing that maybe you needed time to grieve what you lost.

But you—you seemed fine.

You smiled, you laughed, you trained with Cassian and traded insults with Rhys, you asked Mor endless questions about the best places to visit in Velaris. You were fine.

Except Azriel knew that wasn’t true.

Because he felt it—the crackling in the air whenever he was near you, the way your emotions bled into his own, even when you weren’t looking at him. The bond—the one you were blissfully ignorant of—was there, thrumming between you.

And it was killing him.

Because you didn’t know.

You were testing him in ways he never thought possible.

Which was why you were currently sitting across from him at the dining table, casually eating a pastry, completely unbothered by the fact that every time you so much as breathed, the bond between you screamed at him.

“I was thinking,” you said, licking a crumb from your finger, completely unaware of the way Azriel’s eyes tracked the movement, “maybe I should go to the Winter Court for a while. Just to clear my head, see more of Prythian, you know?”

Azriel’s fork snapped in half.

You blinked at him. “You okay?”

No. No, he was not okay.

“You can’t,” he said, voice tight.

Your brows knitted together. “What do you mean, I can’t?”

“You can’t just—” He took a breath, ran a hand through his hair. “You can’t just leave. You belong here.”

You scoffed. “I belong nowhere, Azriel. That’s kind of the problem.”

He exhaled sharply. “You belong with me.”

“Excuse me?,” your expression twisted in confusion. “Why are you being so weird about this?”

Azriel exhaled sharply through his nose. He had planned to do this delicately, to ease you into it, to find the right words—

That plan was dead.

“You’re my mate.” he rasped, voice strained.

“…Okay?”

Silence.

Azriel just stared at you. His mind short-circuited so violently that his shadows actually stopped moving.

“…Okay?” he repeated, his voice an octave higher than usual.

You shifted on your seat. “Yeah? You seem really stressed about it, though.”

His eye twitched. His shadows twitched. Everything twitched.

Cauldron boil him, you had no idea what it meant.

He inhaled sharply, his wings flaring slightly. “Do you understand what that means?”

You folded your arms. “Is it, like, a fae kink? I mean, I don’t judg–” You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm?”

A FAE K—?

He had seen battle. He had been tortured. He had infiltrated enemy territory and survived things that would make even Cassian cry. But this? This was what was going to kill him.

“I—No,” he choked, rubbing his temples like he could physically press the stress out of his skull. “It’s not a kink. It’s a bond. The mating bond.”.

You hummed, swishing the tea in your cup thoughtfully. “Right. So, like… what does that mean, exactly?”

“You don’t know,” he whispered to himself. “You don’t know. No one told you.” He let out a breath that sounded like a mix between a groan and a whimper. “I’m going to kill Rhys.”

His shadows curled and twisted like they were also on the verge of a complete breakdown. “It means we’re soulmates. Destined. Bound by the Cauldron itself. You’re mine.”

You blinked. “I what?”

“You. Are. My. Mate,” he repeated, slower this time, as if you were a particularly dense trainee.

You tilted your head. “So… like an arranged marriage?”

Azriel made a sound that was somewhere between a snarl and a sob. His hands were shaking.

“No,” he gritted out. “It’s deeper than that.”

You frowned. “Like a super intense best friendship?”

“I—NO.”

You hear someone wheezing, barely holding their laughter in—then, moments later, a crash followed by a yelp.

You turned just in time to see a figure darting away, a blur of wings and siphons.

Cassian.

Azriel’s shadows had found him eavesdropping—and, judging by the way he stumbled, they had made sure he regretted it.

Azriel’s eye twitched. He’d deal with him later.

“Was that…? Is he okay?” you asked, glancing toward the door.

Azriel exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’ll live,” he muttered, clearly deciding that his brother’s suffering was not his current priority.

Instead, he turned back to you, inhaling deeply, speaking very slowly. “The bond ties our souls together. It means you’re meant to be with me. It’s why you feel drawn to me.”

Your face scrunched in thought. “Oh.” A pause. “I do feel really attracted to you.”

Azriel’s heart stopped. His wings tensed.

Finally. Finally, you were understanding—

“I thought it was just, you know… female hysteria.”

Azriel.exe stopped working.

You gestured vaguely. “Like, I figured I just had a stupidly big crush on you. Thought maybe it was the trauma or the near-death experience. But the mating bond? That makes so much sense.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Wow, I really thought I was just—”

Azriel inhaled sharply. Fine. If words weren’t getting through to you, maybe this would.

He reached deep into himself and gave the bond a firm tug.

You gasped. A shiver shot down your spine, warmth curling in your chest like liquid sunlight. Your breath hitched, and—Cauldron damn him—you gasped, eyes going huge and then giggled.

Azriel felt his soul crack in half.

You blinked at him, eyes wide with wonder. “Wait, what was that?!” Then, catching the look on his face—his pinched expression and the slight tension in his shoulders—, you gasped again, pointing at him accusingly. “Was that you?!”

Before he could respond, you beamed, wiggling excitedly in your seat. “Oh my gods—do that again. That tickled.”

Azriel was going to pass out. Or throw himself off a balcony. Maybe both.

“I—” He pinched the bridge of his nose so hard it nearly bruised. “You—You don’t just have a crush on me. That feeling? That’s the bond. The Cauldron literally forged us for each other.”

Your smile faltered and you squinted at him. “Are you sure?”

Azriel’s grip on reality was slipping.

“Yes.”

“…Huh.” You sipped your tea. “Neat.”

Azriel’s vision blurred. He was on the verge of blacking out.

Cassian’s laughter echoed from the hallway.

Azriel snarled. “Go away, Cassian.”

More laughter. Then a whispered, “I cannot wait to tell Rhys.”

Azriel inhaled so sharply his chest ached. He turned back to you, shadows writhing. “You do understand what this means, right?”

You smiled. “Of course I do.”

Azriel exhaled in relief.

Then—

“Anyway, as I was saying—I think I’d still like to visit the Winter Court and maybe then the beaches in Summer.” You smiled dreamily. “I could get a nice tan. A little vitamin D never hurt anyone, right?”

Azriel dropped his head onto the table so hard he thought he might develop a second brain injury to match the first one you’d unknowingly given him.

< back to general masterlist

[vitalverstappen]

Man's Best Wingman - C. Leclerc

summary: they say dogs are a man’s best friend, but a certain dachshund may be man’s best wingman

pairing: Charles Leclerc x veterinarian!reader

warnings: none ( i mean use of y/n if you count that)

word count: 2.6k

It was no surprise that Charles Leclerc adored animals, specifically dogs. So, when word spread like wildfire around Monaco that he had adopted Leo, it was only a matter of time before the duo showed up in your clinic. 

You had heard about Leo from the gossip mill - Charles had been spotted walking the dog around the streets of Monte Carlo, and the photos of the two of them quickly made the rounds on social media. The sight of the Formula 1 driver, usually so composed and intense, walking around with an adorable dachshund puppy had the whole city cooing with affection. 

You had been working as a vet for a few years now, as one of the only ones in Monaco, so you were no stranger to having a celebrity walk through your doors. In fact, you had Alex Albon walking through your doors practically every month with the zoo he had. But hearing your techs swoon at the fact Charles was in your clinic, made you question how big this guy really was. 

“Y/n, Leo Leclerc is in room four for you. He’s here for his routine exam. So far everything looks good,” one of your techs said. 

“I bet Charles looks even better,” another one called, overhearing the conversation. 

Your eyes rolled, but you couldn’t help but chuckle at their remarks. “Focus on Leo, not Charles,” you teased, though you knew their excitement was understandable. 

Taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, you grabbed your stethoscope and walked toward room four. You were a professional, after all, and your job was to make sure Leo was in tip-top shape, not to let the celebrity connection distract you. 

As you knocked lightly on the door, you heard a soft voice call from the other side. “Come in!”

You opened the door to find Charles sitting on the exam table, with Leo happily bouncing around at his feet. The little dachshund’s tail wagged furiously as soon as he spotted you, making a beeline for you as though he’d known you for ages. 

“Hey there, Leo,” you said, crouching down to meet the enthusiastic puppy. You pet him for a second before standing back up. “I’m Dr. Y/L/N, but you can call me Y/N. I’ll be your primary veterinarian.”

Leo’s little tail wagged even harder at the mention of his name, and you couldn’t help but to smile at the sight. His big brown eyes stared up at you, full of trust and excitement. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Charles said as he got off of the exam table. His smile was easy, and you noticed how much more approachable he looked when he wasn’t in his racing suit. “I’m glad to see you’re the one handling Leo today.”

You nodded, doing your best to focus on the task at hand, though your heart was pounding into your throat. “He’s a cutie. And I’ve heard a lot about him from the clinic’s gossip mill. Seems like you two are quite the duo.”

Charles chuckled lightly, glancing down at Leo, who was now sitting patiently at his feet, as if sensing the shift in attention. “Yeah, Leo’s been a good distraction for me. Definitely makes my life a bit more fun, and I think he’s a great companion for my downtime.”

You turned to Leo, picking him up and placing him on the exam table, where Charles once sat. “He’s got a lot of energy for a little guy. Looks like he’s been keeping you on your toes.”

Charles shrugged, the slightest hint of amusement in his expression. “He definitely does, but I love having him around. Plus, he’s a great way to relax after a stressful weekend, just walking him around and enjoying the quieter side of things.”

“Sounds perfect,” you replied, settling your stethoscope into place. “Let’s make sure everything is going well with him. I’ll just start with a quick check-up, get his vitals and make sure he’s healthy.”

You focused on Leo, quickly going through the routine exam. His heart rate was normal, his coat was shiny and healthy, and his eyes were bright. After a quick examination, you looked up at Charles. “He’s in great shape, Charles. No issues at all. He’s a happy, healthy little guy.” 

Charles sighed in relief, his smile widening. “I’m glad to hear that. I was worried I might be doing something wrong.”

“Not at all,” you assured him, chuckling. “You’re doing everything right. It’s clear you care about him a lot.”

You scooped Leo into your arms and informed Charles you would be taking Leo into the back room to give him his shots. What you didn’t mention was that it was also an opportunity for all of the techs to fawn over the puppy. 

Once you brought Leo back into the exam room, Charles' eyes lit up, though you were unsure if it was at you, or the dog. You gave him a few instructions for Leo’s next few weeks, including a reminder to keep up with his vaccinations. “He’s good to go! Just a few follow-ups, but nothing to worry about.”

You bid goodbye to the driver as you guided him up to the receptionist's desk. There, you gave instructions on the next exam date. 

Charles had the day of the exam circled on his calendar the minute he got home. Sure, he wanted to be a good dog dad and pay attention to Leo’s appointments, but he also couldn’t wait to see you again. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t realize that since Leo had done so well, the follow up appointments that had been scheduled were only with the techs, not with you. He went through with the appointments, but in the back of his mind, he had to find a way to see you again. And thankfully, Leo gave him plenty of excuses. 

It all started when Leo ate a blade of grass. 

Now, Charles knew that eating grass wasn’t going to kill his dog, but he was worried it might make him a little sick… and he wanted to see you again. 

So, he scheduled an appointment.

As soon as you saw Charles and Leo’s names on the schedule, a smile tugged at the corner of your lips. You tried to shake it off, you were just doing your job, but there was something about seeing him that made you feel a little lighter. 

As the time drew nearer, you found yourself making sure everything was in order, the clinic bustling with its usual activity. Your techs were curious no doubt - they’d fawned over the duo when they took care of the dog’s follow up appointments, and definitely talked about the “celebrity dog dad” a little more than they probably should’ve. 

“Y/n, Charles and Leo are in room three for you. He mentioned Leo had eaten some grass earlier today, but so far, everything seems normal,” your tech informed you 

You walked towards the exam room, preparing yourself to see the driver and his dog again. As you entered, you saw Charles sitting on the chair this time, gently scratching behind Leo’s ears. The little dachshund’s tail was wagging, and he immediately perked up when he saw you, jumping down from Charles’ lap. 

“Hey, Leo,” you greeted, crouching down to pet the excited pup. “What’s all this fuss about grass, huh?” 

Charles looked up from his phone and smiled when he saw you. “Hey, Y/N. Yeah, Leo decided to sample some grass this morning, and now I’m just a little paranoid.”

You chuckled, standing up to meet his gaze. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Dogs eat grass all the time. Most of the time, it’s harmless. But let’s take a quick look just to be sure.”

You began your routine examination of Leo, checking his belly, feeling for any signs of discomfort, and listening to his heart. Leo seemed perfectly fine, happily squirming and wagging his tail as you worked. 

“See?” you said, glancing up at Charles. “He seems to be in good spirits. No signs of anything bothering him.” 

Charles let out a relieved sigh, but there was still a hint of concern in his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve just been overthinking it. But I’m still getting used to being a dog dad, you know?” 

You smiled warmly, meeting his gaze. “Like I said at our first appointment, you’re going great, Charles. Leo’s in good hands.” 

He looked at you with a soft smile, and for a moment, there was a brief pause in the conversation. It was like neither of you wanted to break the moment, but eventually, Charles cleared his throat and stood up. 

“Thanks again, Y/N. Seriously,” he said, giving you an appreciative look. “I’m glad I came in today, even if it was just for a little blade of grass.” 

“It’s no problem at all,” you replied, trying to keep your composure. “Take care of Leo, and we’ll see you for the next check-up.” 

But you saw him much sooner than the next check-up. 

Only a few weeks after the grass related appointment, your receptionist came into the back area, where you and your techs were prepping for surgery. You had a busy day ahead of you, with having back to back appointments all day, and the only break you got was your thirty minutes of lunch. 

“Mr. Leclerc is on the phone,” your receptionist began, causing a bunch of oooo’s from your staff. “He said that Leo stubbed his toe and wanted to see if you had availability for today.”

You paused for a moment, wiping your hands on your scrubs as you turned toward your receptionist. “Leo stubbed his toe?” you asked, trying to suppress a smile. You could hear the excitement in your staff’s whispers behind you, but you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing how much Charles’ calls were starting to feel like little breaks from the clinic chaos. 

“Yeah, that’s what he said,” your receptionist replied, her tone amused. “Should I tell him to hold on or that you’re in surgery?” 

You quickly ran through your schedule in your head. It was packed, but a stubbed toe? You could squeeze that in. You didn’t want to seem like you were too eager, but you couldn’t help but feel a little excitement at the thought of seeing Charles again. 

“I can take a shorter lunch,” you said, giving your receptionist a quick nod. “Schedule him for the last twenty minutes of that half hour.” 

Your receptionist raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as she turned to make the call. As soon as the door closed behind her, your techs immediately leaned in, their eyes sparking with curiosity.

“You know you two aren’t fooling anyone, right?” one of them teased. “You’re excited to see Charles again.

“And he’s got to be wanting to see you if he’s making an appointment over a stubbed toe,” another one chimed in. 

You rolled your eyes, trying to stifle a grin. ‘It’s just a stubbed toe,” you replied, but your voice betrayed you, laced with a hint of amusement. “He’s just a concerned dog dad. Nothing more.” 

Your techs exchanged knowing glances, clearly not buying it. 

“Uh-huh,” one of them smirked. “A ‘concerned dog dad’ who keeps calling in for the tiniest little thing. Sure.”

“Maybe you should get him a frequent flyer card,” another suggested, grinning. 

You shook your head, trying to ignore the warmth growing in your cheeks. “Focus, guys. You have things to do, remember?” 

They held up their hands in mock surrender, but you could still feel their eyes on you as you turned back to finish prepping for the day. 

When the status of Leo’s appointment changed to “arrived” on your computer, it took everything in you to remain calm and composed. The butterflies in your stomach only grew as you heard Leo’s excited barks from down the hall. 

Once your techs informed you that the Leclercs were ready to see you, you made your way to the exam room, trying to keep yourself steady with every step. When you opened the door, Charles was sitting there, looking as relaxed as ever, with Leo perched on his lap. 

“Hey there, you,” you greeted Leo first, just like you always did. “I heard you got a stubbed toe this time around.”

Charles chuckled, giving you a sheepish look. “I know, it’s ridiculous. But he seemed to be limping a little, and I didn’t want to take any chances.”

You nodded, appreciating his concern for his dog. “It’s never ridiculous to take care of our furry friends,” you said, your eyes briefly meeting his. There was a warmth in his gaze, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down. 

You got Leo up on the exam table, gently checking his paws and making sure everything looked good. As you worked, you noticed Charles’ gaze lingering on you - though this time, it felt different. His smile was softer, more intentional, and there was something in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. 

Finally, after checking Leo’s paw, you turned to Charles. “Good news. It’s just a little sore, probably from the way he landed. No major damage.”

Charles visibly relaxed, his tension easing as he gave a small sigh of relief. “I’m glad to hear that.” 

As you gave Leo a few gentle pats and wrote down the instructions for recovery, you could feel Charles’ eyes on you again. There was a quiet moment between you two, one that made the air feel just a little thicker, like there was more unsaid than spoken. 

“Thank you for always being so patient with me, and with Leo, and I appreciate you squeezing us in at the last minute,” Charles said, standing up to walk toward the door. He paused for a beat, then glanced back at you with a small but meaningful smile. “Would I be able to squeeze into your schedule again sometime, for coffee or drinks?”

You felt your heart flutter as the words hung in the air. It was the question you’d been waiting for, yet the reality of it still made your breath catch in your throat. For a second, you just looked at him, the familiar warmth in his smile making your pulse quicken. 

You tried to play it cool, but you couldn’t hide the slight blush creeping onto your cheeks. “I think I could make some time for you,” you said, your voice soft but sure. “I’m not usually this free, but for you? I’ll make an exception.”

Charles’s smile widened, and you could see a spark of relief in his eyes. He stepped back into the room, the distance between you narrowing as he moved closer. “Tomorrow? After work?” he asked, his tone a little more tentative, as if waiting for your confirmation. 

You nodded, your heart racing a little faster now. “Tomorrow works. Let’s say, six?” 

He gave a small, excited nod, clearly trying to contain his enthusiasm. “Perfect. I’ll pick you up. I’ll make sure not to keep you waiting.”

You both stood there for a moment, the air thick with anticipation, before he gave a final smile and turned to leave. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

As he exited the room, Leo wagged his tail, clearly eager to follow. You watched him walk out, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you. You leaned against the exam room table for a second, trying to catch your breath, before shaking yourself out of the daze. You still had a job to do, but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as the thought of tomorrow played over in your mind.

[luveline]

hi 🙈 would u do a request of steve with a reader that’s an emotional drunk? love ur work 💖

thanks for requesting lovely! fem, 1k

“I think that you think you have a way higher threshold for getting drunk than you actually have.” 

You nod emphatically. “Yeah!”

Steve grins. You’re sitting on the high stool next to his slowly attempting to spin yourself around. He’s holding the chair steady with his leg under the bar. A milkshake and a burger sit in front of you largely untouched. 

Steve takes a sip of his own milkshake and feels the frozen vanilla hit the roof of his mouth as you fill the silence. “‘Cos I always drink a bunch right at the start of the night thinking it won’t get me, and it does!”

Steve doesn’t drink at all anymore. He doesn’t like the idea of being inebriated, whether of his own will or not, but he doesn’t mind being your guardian for the night, any night you want. Robin got you plastered because you’re drinking for two, a joke she insists on and nobody finds all that funny sober. If she said it to you now you’d crumple off of your seat to the floor and cry tears of joy. Everything is heightened. Your excitement, your boredom, your hunger. You’d pleaded with Steve to buy you a burger, and have quickly forgotten it’s there. 

He takes your knife and cuts the burger in half, then again into quarters. “Here,” he says quietly, more subdued than he means to be in the face of your freneticism. “Before it gets cold, baby.” 

He likes all of the pet names now he’s with you. You’re a sweetheart, an angel, his bub, babe, baby, it doesn’t matter how corny the word is, if he thinks about you in the right way he can say it with full sincerity. Babygirl was a bad phase, but baby sticks. 

“Thank you,” you say, reaching under his arm to link you together as you pick up one of your quarters, lettuce and tomato and sauce spilling out the sides. 

“You’re welcome. You know that.” 

You smile around a huge bite and wipe your appled cheeks clean with the side of your hand, giving him these looks you’ve perfected, not shy but almost, I’m so lucky unsaid but felt. Steve can’t really understand why you’d feel that way about him, he’s a loser, he’s not pretty, he doesn’t work out anymore, but none of that stuff matters because why should it? He doesn’t care that you’re a lightweight, that you snore like a freight train, that you pull your lip in between your teeth whenever you’re thinking too deeply and accidentally look like the victim of a botched face lift. It’s all inconsequential. The stuff that matters is your arm like a weight through his and how happy you were when he paid for your burger and fries. 

He squeezes you under the chin as you chew to hold you still for a kiss. “Love you. You look beautiful.” 

“I do?” you ask through burger. You try to cover your mouth best you can, but Steve doesn’t care. 

“You do. Tonight was fun, yeah? I had a great time with you, like always.” 

Your eyebrows pinch up. Your eyes begin to swim. Steve blinks in shock as you swallow and grab onto his wrist, your lips shiny with what might be ketchup as you begin to pout. “Steve…”

That’s his fault. My bad. He knows what kind of drunk you are but he knows how much it means to you regardless to hear that you’re appreciated. He shouldn’t have said it yet, maybe a little later when you’d calmed down and your fries had soaked up the beer in your stomach, but it’s too late. He lets his gaze soften. “I mean it,” he says, rubbing your chin with his thumb swiftly, before wrapping his arm around you, lest you feel wobbly again. “Spending time with you is my favourite thing to do.” 

“What’s your problem?” you ask, eyes filling with tears, the biggest one he’s ever seen flushed over you waterline as you screw up your face. “That’s so nice. I love you, too.”

“I know,” he says, and if he dips into a babying tone, well, that’s his business. 

“You had a good time?” you ask through a shuddery sob. 

“I had the best time.” 

You turn your face into his arm. Steve ignores the waitress staring at you both to smile into your temple. “You’re not supposed to cry, it’s a good thing!” he says lightly. “I just wanted you to know I had a good time tonight.” 

“I had a good time too!” you splutter. 

“I know,” he says, “I know you did, why don’t you try and eat some more of your food? You’ll feel less… like this.” 

“Sorry!”

“No, don’t be,” he says, firmer now, “it’s okay, I don’t mind, I just don’t want you to be upset–”

“I’m not upset! I love you!” 

He can hear the girls in the booth by the door giggling. Steve laughs into your head, ushering your face into his neck to give you some time and a space to calm down. “I love you too. Even if you’re, like, ninety percent bud light right now.” 

It takes you ages to calm down and he can’t blame you. You’re super, super drunk, and despite your best attempts at dinner you’ve basically got an empty stomach. He’s trying to save you from puking with the burger, so after a couple of minutes of you saying that you love him and that tonight was really fun, he pulls you out of his neck to meet your eyes. “Can you eat some more for me?” he asks, smiling, knowing it’s ridiculous. 

You love it, digging in with your cheeks still wet. Steve wipes at them with the back of his index finger. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you say around a crinkly bite of romaine lettuce. 

“I’m not, but I don’t mind.” 

You sniffle. “You have to eat too,” you say. 

He offers his hand for holding. You take it, letting them swing between your two chairs, returning for now to your meals. Steve’s opened the floodgates and he’s expecting another bout of crying before bed. Hopefully not while he’s holding your hair back over the toilet bowl. 

[verdancy-hime]

Everyone is like "what if we take more coping mechanisms away from you why don't you go do this this this this this"

And it's like "I started doing porn because trying to have a job was giving me vivid sexual fantasies about being a serial killer and it turned out a lot of men on the iinternet could relate to that and thought other women didn't and then I decided to microdose being a serial killer and take people's money with their consent and give them weird hypno daydreams where I was a vampire princess or a weird eldritch being and I killed them and brought them back to life and then they were my slave and being my slave mostly consisted of paying me to stay away from other people and buy a lot of vibrators and drugs."

No one appreciates how much work I did to just do a fake bit on the internet where I pretended to be the toolbox killer instead of actually becoming the toolbox killer.

You all suck you're like "go outsideeeeeeeereeeeee get a boyfriend have a babbbbby!" No. No I don't think I will. I tried hard to have a boyfriend or a girlfriend when I was younger and it just turned into me dreading every minute around them because they were constantly acting like they hated me and I was the meanest mean person ever and driving me insane or me constantly yelling at them and feeling like shit afterwards and nothing getting better. Like... you go try to date a man who's super religious because you don't want the kind of shit your feminist mom went through and that's even more stupid and manipulative and lame than you thought it would be so you go and date a trans girl and that's just her looking for a daddy because her daddy threw her out and being forgetful and confused and sad and childish and spoiled all the time until you want to rip your hair out and you sleep or listen to headphones all the time to avoid yelling at her and making her cry and she doesn't have a damn job and you go date a bi boy and he's literally the most shockingly machiavellian person you have ever met and he literally hates you except he likes that he feels like he beat your friends and he thought he would get sex parties with your female friends but they're mostly gay and he's super pissed at everything about you except you're a better cook than his grandmother and your apartment is cheap so you stop dating and you try to just hook up with dudes but they keep trying to trick you into catching feels and it turns out people will pay cash money to hear you masturbate and say weird antisocial things and also your job history is even worse than your employment history so why not?

But then people are trying to force you not to do that and claim you're creating nazis or something because if men don't regularly put their penis in something and form a babby their extra semen somehow goes up to their brain and whispers to them that they need to make anyone doing anything cool or fun or free illegal and that everyone should be forced to live a life that makes no one happy for the sake of society.

Idk man.

Yall want me to become a serial killer or what?

no one appreciates that i could be a million times worse

[itsraceweekbitches]

JUST HOW FAKE ARE WE?

summary: Your so-far-successful fake relationship with Max takes a different turn in Monaco. But how far will things go eventually? ✤ pairing: Max Verstappen x reader ✤ wc: 3.2k ✤ tags: fem!reader, marriage talks, fake relationship, teenage crush, excited-puppy-in-love!Max

[march 2025 – australian grand prix]

The media is having a field day with your suddenly revealed relationship with Max, who seems to enjoy this show a little too much. I’m bored, it’s fun, and it’s absolutely no big deal, he said.

And he clearly means it, because he doesn’t let go of your hand when you’re walking down the paddock together for the first time on Saturday, and he always makes sure he has a hand on your body, or places a kiss on your cheek whenever there are cameras around.

The inevitable happens shortly before qualifying, when the first article about the two of you is published on a well-known gossip site. And then comes another. And another. Followed by social media posts and video edits by fans. The fans are obsessed with this turn of events.

Some immediately catch on, stating that there is no way this relationship is real, that it’s nothing more but a decoy. They’re right, of course, but lucky for you, there are many more fans who believe the lie. Some even uncovered a few photos from the boys’ karting days, ones where you and Max can be seen together talking, laughing, and even hugging.

Charles has been apologizing non-stop, telling you he feels guilty since the press got the conversation from his account, and he even believes he shouldn’t have joked about it at all.

Now Max is attending an emergency meeting to discuss how to handle the situation, while you’re hiding in his driver room, talking to Charles who has already returned from his own emergency meeting.

“It’s not the end of the world,” Charles tells you during your video call, although you can see the doubt in his green eyes.

With a groan, you lean back on the bed, but you can’t calm down, you can’t think clearly, not when your brain is in overdrive by the fact the whole room—and especially the pillow—smells like Max. You’re not used to being surrounded by this scent, and it feels like you’re invading his personal space.

And the decorations keep reminding you that you’re not at Ferrari anymore, that this is uncharted territory, something you know nothing about yet. Sure, you will have to get familiar with things here, but you are still feeling out of place.

“I know it’s not the end of the world,” you finally speak up, “but now we dragged Max into this, and—”

“Hey, no, no, no, he volunteered. We didn’t hold him at gunpoint.”

You roll your eyes, then give him a look that immediately silences him, and his lips are pressed into a thin line as he forces himself not to go on. You’ve known Charles literally your whole life, you know each other like you weren’t just best friends, but siblings who are stuck together.

“I’m just worried he’ll get into trouble because of me. You should have seen the faces when I showed up in Red Bull territory this morning,” you note with a grimace.

The most shocking moment was running into Christian, who watched you with narrowed eyes, as if he was thinking about what ulterior motive you had. If he only knew the truth…

On the other side of the line, Charles lets out a heartfelt laugh. “You as a corporate spy… Nah, you would suck at that,” he points out, then takes a deep breath. “Look, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Here you go again, he’s apologizing once more, and probably not for the last time. You wish you could go over to him and give him a big hug, then play video games until you both fall asleep. Like in the good old days.

After shaking your head, you sit up and lean your back against the wall behind you. “Charles, it’s not your fault. And I could never be mad at you, you know that.”

You want to go on, just to make sure he understands that there’s no reason to blame himself, but you’re interrupted all of a sudden.

“Honey, I’m home,” you hear Max’s familiar, cheerful voice from the door when he enters the room. “Oh, I didn’t know you were talking to someone,” he says when he comes to a halt in the middle of the room.

You flash a smile at him and shake your head. “It’s just Charles.”

“Just Charles?” the Monegasque asks with a roll of his eyes.

Before you know it, Max kneels on the edge of the bed, and leans down to press kisses all over your face, a move that brings a stupid giggle out of you. “She’ll call you back, now she’s all mine,” Max announces when he looks at the camera for a second.

It’s hard to miss the expression on your best friend’s face, the way his nose scrunches and he acts like he was about to throw up. “Disgusting,” he notes.

Next to you, Max doesn’t seem bothered by that, if anything, it just makes him more smug than he usually is in your company. “Screw you. I can shower my girlfriend with kisses anytime I want.”

“Since when?”

You let out a tired sigh as you push the man on your side away before he can give you another kiss on the cheek. “He’s been like that all day, he thinks he’s funny,” you tell Charles with a shake of your head.

“I’m hilarious,” Max corrects you as he lies down on the small space on your side. “And since we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, it’s only natural to act like this, no?”

“Only in public.”

“If you touch her in an inappropriate way, I’ll push you off the track tomorrow,” Charles warns him.

Instead of being scared, Max only lets out a carefree laugh. “You’ll have to get close to me first.”

When you turn back to the phone, you can see that little shit kind of grin on your friend’s face. “Your car sucks this year,” he notes happily. “Anyway, I have to go. Talk to you later.”

You wave him goodbye, then end the call with a sigh.

“So does yours,” Max mutters under his breath, even though Charles isn’t there anymore.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, then blow it out slowly to calm yourself. Soon this will pass, soon you’ll be free again. Until then, you’re stuck here with the Dutchman, who happens to act like the perfect boyfriend.

When you look over at Max, you notice that he’s staring right back, as if he’s been watching you all this time. But what if he has truly been watching you? There’s something in those blue eyes you can’t quite place yet. It’s something you’ve never seen before, an emotion that’s completely unfamiliar, and maybe even a little unsettling.

Before you could say anything, though, he grins at you then rolls off the bed, heading to the mini fridge in the corner to get a Red Bull out for himself. He asks you if you'd like one, but your heart is already racing, an energy drink is the last thing you need.

Just two or three more races. The storm will end, and you can all go back to your everyday lives.

[may 2025 – monaco grand prix]

Over two months later you’re still pretending.

And now it’s time for the most important race of the season: the Monaco Grand Prix. Charles’s home race. The one you want to watch from the Ferrari garage along with his family you’re so close to.

But first, it’s time for dinner with Charles, his mom, and Alex, to which Pascale invited Max too. If Charles brings his girlfriend, you should bring your boyfriend too, she said. And who are you to say no to your second mother?

Later in the afternoon you’re trying on dresses in your family’s penthouse, happy that they are away with their friends until Saturday since Max decided to jump in and pick you up. He arrived early–like, two hours early—so now he’s the one rating your outfits.

“The color is nice, it suits you, but the shape is terrible,” he comments as he holds up the makeshift rating card, a smaller whiteboard he writes his points on.

Six points. Okay, this goes back to the walk-in closet, but you only leave after sticking out your tongue at him, because you love this dress so much that hearing it doesn’t look good on you physically hurts.

Three more outfits later he lets out a groan and jumps up after tossing the whiteboard to the other end of the couch. “I have an idea,” he begins as he follows you to the bedroom for whatever reason.

“I’m not gonna wear jeans with a Red Bull Racing shirt, forget it,” you point out without looking back at him.

“What? No, I’d rather you wear that when you’re with Ferrari this weekend.”

You spin on your heels to look at him, and sure enough, there’s that cheeky, boyish grin you were expecting. But how does he know about your plan to spend the weekend on Charles’s side of the paddock? You never mentioned that.

To your surprise, he knows perfectly well what’s going on inside your head. “What? You thought I wouldn’t know that this weekend is special? I discussed this with Charles a while ago, everything’s ready for you,” he tells you casually.

“Thank you. So, what do you have in mind, then?” you wonder as you walk closer to him.

Max lets out a thoughtful hum as his eyes sweep over your body, as if he was making this up on the spot. “Well, I would suggest jeans and a Simply lovely shirt, but no, I have a better idea. I have a surprise for you in my backpack, give me a sec.”

You watch him rush out of the room with a frown on your face, wondering what the hell is happening here. Max being nice and thoughtful is nothing new, but today it just feels different, like something has shifted in your fake relationship.

To be honest, you may have been thinking about him more than you probably should, even when he’s not around. You find yourself opening the messaging app you usually use, typing some words before changing your mind and deleting them. Or other times your finger hovers over the screen as you wonder if you should call him or not.

You’re kind of afraid of whatever that means. Is this more than just pretending?

At this point, you can’t help but wonder if it’s time to put an end to this. By now the press moved on, focusing on other drivers’ relationships instead of yours. It’s yesterday’s news, and everybody knows Charles and Alex are back together, and that they’re happier than ever. So what���s the point of this? Nothing.

Yet…

“Before you ask, I cheated and asked Charles to somehow get me what size you wear. Apparently Alex straight-up asked you, so,” he begins with a sheepish smile as he holds up a dress.

It’s a beautiful dark blue cocktail dress, which somehow didn’t have any wrinkles on it despite spending God knows how much time in that backpack. You don’t even know what to say, mostly because this gesture only proves what you’ve been suspecting about this certain shift you’ve noticed.

“You don’t like it.”

Your eyes move from the dress to your fake boyfriend, and you don’t hesitate to shake your head. “No, it’s beautiful. I just… Never mind. Thank you.”

Max lets out a sigh as he places the dress on the back of a chair. “Listen, I can see something’s bothering you. What is it?”

What are you supposed to say to this? That your brain is wandering to places you don’t want to explore?

“I’ll try on the dress, so could you wait outside?”

Nodding, Max gives you one last look, then leaves the room without a word. That’s the last time you speak until you meet the others, and even then, you keep an unusual distance. For him, it’s about being cautious. For you, it’s about making sure you make a fool out of yourself.

Charles, of course, notices the change in the atmosphere right away, and he even pulls you aside to start questioning you. But, even though he has known you since you were born, meaning he could probably give you some advice, you decide to lie and act like it’s nothing. 

But it’s not nothing. 

Your eyes keep finding Max throughout the evening, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going on in his head. Does he have the same thoughts? Or is he desperately waiting to be free of you? It’s hard to tell. 

Just as you planned, you spend the weekend with Charles, arriving at the paddock with his family, staying in Ferrari territory just to be safe. Safe from Max. Safe from your thoughts. Safe from the media. 

But there’s an itch in the back of your brain, one you can’t scratch. And the itch even has a voice, repeating his name over, and over, and over again. It’s getting louder with each passing second, with each moment you see him on the screens on the wall, when your phone buzzes to notify you of a new message from him. 

Alex gives you worried looks every now and then, but it takes her a while to open up and tell you what it’s about. And when she finally tells you what’s going on, you feel like the whole world has turned against you. First, everyone was freaking out because they thought you and Charles were getting married. Then it was you and Max. Now? Now the fans are mad because you chose your best friend over your boyfriend. 

You close your eyes for a moment, but then you take a deep breath and leave the garage, trying to move in a way that doesn’t scream how terrible and pathetic you feel right now. Some fans are screaming bloody murder because Max is starting the race from P10 after a mechanical issue in Q3, which only happened because his lucky charm–you–wasn’t there with him on Saturday. 

To be honest, you haven’t talked since the dinner. You’ve been avoiding him, ignoring him, and you hate yourself for not answering him. 

“Wait,” you hear a familiar voice calling after you. 

Fuck. 

Max ran all the way here, ready to jump into the car based on the suit he already wears, but despite this, here he is, looking for you. There are people already turning in your direction, you can’t just leave him there, so you come to a halt and force a smile on your face. 

“Hey, I–”

Before you could say anything, he gently but firmly puts a hand around your neck to pull you into a kiss. It’s rushed, passionate, and messy, yet it feels perfect. This is the first time the two of you kissed, until now you carefully avoided that situation, but God, what did you miss?

It’s only when he lets go for a moment that you notice the cameras around you, but it doesn’t seem to bother him, in fact, it just draws a smug smirk on his face. “Well, if you want to jump ship, Red Bull’s always waiting for you. I love you,” he adds quietly. 

This short-circuits your brain. This didn’t sound fake, you have a feeling he meant it. But if he meant it, then… Okay, you need to stop, you can’t overthink, you can’t let him put ideas in your head. 

You want to say something, anything, really, but nothing comes to your mind. 

He flashes a big smile at you before pressing a rushed kiss on your cheek. “Come over tonight. The cats miss you.” And with that, he waves goodbye and leaves. 

What the hell just happened?

Luckily, you have enough brain capacity left to send him a quick good luck message.

“I was hoping you would jump in, but don’t worry, I’m glad you’re here now” Max says when he opens the door of his apartment. 

Yeah, right. The invitation. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t go there, not now. Not when you had these confusing feelings and thoughts. Did he mean it when he said those words? Did he catch feelings just like you did?

Because you did. You caught feelings in the past two months, and it wouldn’t be fair to deny. Just how long can you play pretend knowing damn well you want more from him? 

Letting out a sigh, you go straight to his living room without saying a word–something that confuses him based on the questioning hum he lets out as you walk past him. Once he catches up, you gulp and prepare to speak up, breaking the awkward silence. This has never been the problem, not once. You could always chat and laugh, but now it feels different. 

“Maybe it’s time to end this fake relationship,” you announce, even though the thought breaks your heart. 

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” he repeats stubbornly as he sits on the couch and picks up his youngest furry kid. “Aren’t we having fun? Why can’t this become something real? Come on, you enjoyed that kiss this afternoon, didn’t you?” 

Oh, that confident smile of his is driving you crazy. You just want to slap him. 

You want to slap that handsome face. 

DAMN IT! FOCUS!

“Max, people have moved on, there’s no reason to keep going,” you try, although your voice lacks conviction. 

And he knows. He always knows if there’s something you’re not telling him. This time he starts with a doubtful look, which is followed by a wide, Cheshire Cat grin. The thing is, Max always gets what he wants, and this time you have a feeling you’re what he wants.

Before you know it, he puts the cat to the side–who gives him a mean look in return–and reaches out to take your hands to pull you into his lap. Your brain melts when you feel his hands on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin through your shirt. Why does it feel so good? You don’t want to like it as much as you do. 

Taking a deep breath, you try to pry his hands off yourself to break the spell, but his grip only tightens as he launches himself forward to capture your lips in a kiss. Another mind blowing kiss that knocks every coherent thought out of your brain. 

The fact you like it is pathetic.

But still oh so good.

Maybe giving him a chance is what you should do now. Maybe he’s right, maybe you would be good together. So, without thinking more, you let yourself get lost in the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck. But he suddenly leans back to build a little distance.

“I have an idea,” he begins with a smile, his lips red and swollen. “I have napkins in the kitchen, let’s write a contract. Seems to work for you.”

“God, you’re so silly,” you tell him with a grin, then kiss him again.

[alchemistc]

kiss me on the mouth, love me like a sailor

"Can we talk?"

He feels like every fucking part of his body is on fire. Like if he takes a deep breath and blows it out his bones will shake themselves loose and disintegrate, leave him a pile of skin and muscle oozing on the porch and just over the threshold where he currently has an arm banded across the frame. His elbow digs in and he wonders if the last thing he'll ever do is leave a Tommy sized imprint when the lightning strike turns him to ash on the doorstep.

Evan takes a deep breath.

Waves him in.

This is nothing like the last time he was here.

He's not sure what he'd expected before - for sex to fix things, for them to go back to the flirty innocence of fresh-blush romance even though six months is long enough to start nailing down what the hell you want out of a relationship. He's loved before. Lost, before, plenty of times. Sometimes his own fault, sometimes theirs.

Tommy has a bad habit of playing fast and loose with the people he orbits, a satellite that flies too close and then gets flung away for the trouble. Flinging himself away, usually. And what a hell of a job he's done at it.

"Uh, what - what are you doing here?" Evan asks, and Tommy shoots him a wry smile. Shakes his head, because there's a quip on the tip of his tongue that could completely derail his entire purpose in showing up here.

The purpose being to crack open his chest and see if Evan's interested in pressing his fingers to the steady, if currently overworked beat of his heart.

"Saw you on the news," he tells Evan, and takes a deep breath. He's unpacked, decorated. It's weird to see this place in the daylight, laid out with furniture, pictures on the walls, soft touches of decorative charm making themselves known. Lighter than Eddie's touch, more whimsical. Gayer, his brain supplies, and he shuts down the stereotype in his own mind and tries not to judge himself too harshly for it. "I wanted to..." He'd practiced this shit. In a mirror, harsh overhead light showing him all his flaws, trying desperately to figure out how to avoid that crook in his jaw, the pained dimple, before remembering that the whole point was to lay himself bare and let the chips fall where they may.

"I... I was gonna call," Evan says, and Tommy's eyes shift up to him from their perusal of the filmy curtains.

"Why didn't you?"

It's Evan's turn to purse his lips, and he's never been as good at hiding shit as Tommy, or maybe he's just never bothered to try. Hiding isn't his default setting.

"I don't know," he says, and he does this thing - this adorable, frustrating thing - shoulder tipped inwards, neck bent and bright eyes looking up through his lashes, and Tommy wants. Wants this all to be done, and over with, wants to just know whether or not this is going to mean anything in five minutes, an hour, a day. The last time he'd pictured a life with someone he'd been so far underground that radar wouldn't have recovered him. Six months is barely anything to go on, he'd had years with Abby before he'd even asked and -

He reminds himself this isn't all or nothing. He just has to - to talk about it, and not make any stupid fucking jokes or deflect how he's actually feeling. Lay it all out there and brace for impact.

He wishes he was drunk. Drunk drivers make it work - loose limbed and malleable, nine times out of ten they walk away from deadly accidents, and maybe with looser lips he wouldn't have to brace as much.

"I just... Didn't."

Which is fair. Tommy'd implied essentially the same thing the last time they'd managed five minutes of conversation without trying to maul each other's faces off. Or hurt each other in new and horrible ways.

That part was always easier. God, they'd fallen into bed so often and in so many fun new ways that Tommy had spent the first month with a semi any time he even thought about Evan. Even that first time there hadn't been a hesitant bone in his body.

But the other parts - they'd been sweet, with each other. Half a dozen inside jokes before Tommy took him on an actual third date, a constant stream of texts that Tommy had participated in just as readily as Evan. He was a brat, unruly and half-insane and Tommy had eaten it up, played into it, encouraged just as much as he tried to temper it. And it'd been nice, to have someone who let him take care of them.

Those parts had been good too. Evan, who always knew when not to push, Evan who grinned up at him around a mouthful of cock, Evan who was greedy with Tommy's time and didn't apologize for it.

"How are you?" Tommy asks, after a beat too long, because he'd heard enough to know that Evan had been without the rest of his team through that whole ordeal and he knows, he knows how much that has to have fucked with his head.

"Is that why you're here? You wanna know how I'm doing?"

"I always want to know that," Tommy admits, and swallows around the panic of honesty. "Not why I'm here, though. Not really."

Evan's eyes narrow. "Do you have a shift, later?" The tone is all brat, pointed, maybe a little annoyed. Not veering into pissed, yet, but maybe they'll get there.

Tommy breathes, and it hitches in his chest. Fuck. Jesus. He can do this. "No," he admits, and Evan nods. Points to the couch.

"Sit. I'm - I want a beer, do you...?" The vague gesture towards his kitchen is the end of that question.

"Just the one."

Evan disappears around a corner. Tommy's not a lightweight, by any means, but he is the kind of person who follows all the outdated recommendations regarding drinking and driving - a single beer leaves him stuck here for a good forty-five minutes.

Shit.

Fuck.

Evan knows this about him. Has teased him about it a few times, laughing because he'd only ever served people in resorts and they'd always been a little more lax about what constituted an over-serve, but he'd still memorized the card that gave BMI + time allowed for a given amount of alcohol.

At least they're both aware this is gonna be a rough conversation.

He hopes it'll be a good one, eventually.

Evan startles him by leaping the couch and nearly crash-landing into Tommy's side, two bottles clutched between beefy fingers that clink against each other as Evan readjusts. Close. Closer than Tommy had expected when there's a perfectly good chair right there.

The starter boyfriend thing had always come with Evan's knowledge that he could be a little less careful, do a little more roughhousing than he was likely used to from a partner. Tommy had leaned into it because most of the men in his orbit trended smaller, slighter, and it'd been a novelty to get shoved around just the way he liked by someone who could possibly overpower him, if it came down to it.

That night, Evan had been desperate, needy, and not afraid to use his body to get exactly what he wanted.

And Tommy had let him, like always, without ever telling him why.

When Evan hands him one of the bottles he shifts his weight just enough to wedge his knee into the side of Tommy's thigh, persistent pressure and an unnerving amount of eye contact and a curious tilt to his head.

Tommy isn't fucking ready.

"So. Talk," Evan says, and tips the bottle against his lips, neck stretching, eyes careful, his body language so at odds with the clipped tone of his voice that Tommy immediately has to fight the urge to bolt.

His thigh twitches under Evan's knee and Evan looks at Tommy like he knows exactly what's on his mind.

Tommy swallows back a mouthful of spit, takes a swig.

And he starts talking.

[natalchartnurtures]

Pick-A-Cat GIF: Why Do People Stare At You?

Let's expose the people who stare at you *evil laughs * hehe

Paid readings now available for everybody!

Intention set for the reading: "I want this to be a feel good pick a card to uplift anybody that comes across it. I want their lower three chakras to get a healing boost after reading this pick a card. I want the messages in here to be clear honest and oh so fun to read.

Thank you so much spirit team for helping me do this and help my collective. I lysm <3

Let's begin!"

⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡

Pile 1:

Ok. You a domestic queen/king/non-binary royal. Even if you don't identify as one.

Why you ask? Because sweetie, there's something DEEPly satisfying about watching you go about your mundane day. Doing your lil mundane chores and things. You give off a cozy Bilbo Baggins typa vibe it's almost as if you seem so content being in your lil bubble and living your life that it begs for the attention of people who struggle with inner peace. This is why a lot of people who stare at you, stare at you. They wanna know your secret formula to what they're calling inner peace, cuz you look like somebody who's sooooo CONTENT with their own life and their own shi- and their own company. Keep in mind that this doesn't necessarily mean your life is inherently good all the time like you could have everything going wrong in your life and still handle it like a damn Pro and come out on the other side feeling better than before. You alchemize. Consciously or not, you do. And you do it naturally. Let me tell you something, this alchemical-bouncing-back-from-anything mentality IS your source of infinite inner peace. People who stare at you actually pick up on this nature of yours on a very subconscious level without even realizing and boy.. do they desperately wanna know your "secret" which is basically your alchemy. Lmao. So good luck to anybody who tries to understand you, they're gonna have a tough time tryna understand alchemy as a muggle

A lil rant: NO shade to anybody who's not on the spiritual journey but hey I gotta call it out EXACTLY how it is. Your wisdom was hard 👏🏾 earned 👏🏾 so it's gonna take MORE than just overnight to understand you and your alchemical nature. Like am I wrong?

End Of Rant

I think you get it by now. Your vibe is why people stare at you. It's like you ✨️bewitch✨️ people with your ability to "never get stressed" (at least on face value) no matter what life seems to throw at you. This tells me that most people who stare at you are people who see you in public spaces fairly regularly (like a class or a park near where you live etc) and they don't know you very well?

You have a lotta strangers taking respite in your beauty. Staring at you could be like an escape almost.. like taking a sip from that well of infinite inner peace .. gosh you have a very beautiful aura pile 1, hehe and I love and adore that.

It seems to me like you're angelic.. a white aura or light blue one almost.. you exude very high vibrational energy which makes sense cuz a lot of high vibe people get stares for simply existing! Cuz they move differently through life.

Pile 1, you take the proverbial road less taken- the path of spiritual alchemy and face your darkness and this allows you to MOVE DIFFERENTLY and respond different to life than most people. This. THIS is why people stare at you. My sweet, <insert your name> 😊

Any physical/personality traits that people admire:

👉🏾 You may look very cute in your overall appearance which makes you VERY endearing to look at haha. You're cute like a hobbit is. Maybe your shorter than average? Love my fellow Short Queens Tehe ✨️

👉🏾 Even tho you seem very cute, you have eyes of a SAGE of like fucking YODA or something cuz goddamn they deep af. People are MESMERIZED by this duality they sense in you. Love to see it.

👉🏾 You have an air of authenticity to you. You care if you really care, don't if you really don't. No BS typa first impressions when people look at you.

👉🏾 You might strong looking g features that's very beautiful. Like strong looking legs, or strong looking hands, or strong facial features too? Your beauty is kinda Tate McRae's if I'm being honest.. that's what I'm picking up on.. it feels so lovely to sit in ><

And with that were done with your reading for today!

Thank you so very much for reading!

I love you soooo much 🫶🏾🫂

Have yourself a nice rest of your day, now and see yaaaaa <3

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Pile 2:

Whoa when I was starting your reading I accidently asked spirit "What makes my pile number 2s attractive?" instead of "What makes people stare at my pile 2s?"

So you have your answer right there.

People stare cuz you is attractive ok? 💅🏾 I'm getting a strong vibe that you already know this but kinda don't care? Cuz like there's more to you than meets the eye (kinda like in the case of Marilyn Monroe) and you seem to know this too so you're like "yea ik I'm cute, whatever" haha I love itttt sooo much. You a lil miss diva ✨️

Have you ever heard of Brown Magic by Twinjabi? It's BLASTING in my ears as I'm channeling for you right NOW lol this is, again, pointing to me how people find you really attractive.

~Oh and keep in mind, you don't have to be a brown girl to relate to the song :p ~

It's ridiculous how many pages you got all at once. This is telling me that you have this child-like vibe to you. You seem carefree and ~oh so~ positive in the way you look at things, at life. Your energy seems very light just like a child. You embody your inner child really well and this CATCHES people's attention like it's nobody's bussiness. You could really do a lot of work around healing your inner child and your connection to her/him which is helping you sustain your natural curiosity, wonder for life and that pure essence.. Alot of people who stare at you do so cuz they've most probably lost touch with their own inner children. They look to you as a source of light that they struggle to connect with themselves.

And you know what that means-

You trigger people ALOT.

You get stares from some people who are jealous of you and want what you have (your connection to your inner child and GodSource) but WITHOUT putting in the work necessary like excuse me?! Back off. My dear sweet <insert your name> doesn't need your stank ass energy rn.

This. This right here is why you also have a very strong field of divine protection around you. And because you're so protected, you have this untouchable reputation which is ironically why people like to stare at you. They feel like staring at you is the only way they can be close to you. Gosh.

You are naturally a very open and welcoming person but spirit makes sure your safe WHILE being so open and trusting of life and people which is why very few (best of the pack) people are allowed into your "circle" so to speak. Love that for you 😌✨️

You seem to have a very strong root chakra, pile 2. People stare at you cuz you give off "rich girl/guy vibe" (don't matter if you are actually financially comfortable or not) it's just. your. VIBE. It's very abundant because of that open and functioning root chakra! So whatever work you've been doing just know that's it's PAYING OFF really nicely heheheheh (good job pile 2! Root chakra work ain't easy)

Any physical/personality traits that people admire:

👉🏾 Your. HAIR.

👉🏾 If you wear red you may feel like people can't take thier eyes off you BECAUSE THEY ACTUALLY CAN NOT. You rock red like nobody's bussiness tehe ❤️

👉🏾 Not just red, any kind of dark feminine aesthetic like black cat makeup, edgy/alternate aesthetics or darker clothes etc brings out your beauty and people who stare at you can't get enough of that lmao

👉🏾 You have a earthy vibe which makes you feel very pleasing to look at (in a luxurious way)

👉🏾 People might find it hard to recognize your ethnicity or your accent cuz you give ethnically ambiguous in the best, most attractive of ways ✨️

And with that were done with your reading for today!

Thank you so very much for reading!

I love you soooo much 🫶🏾🫂

Have yourself a nice rest of your day, now and see yaaaaa <3

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Pile 3:

You have the 9 of pentaches and the empress out as your first two cards. Need I say more?

You are STUNNING to look at. You wear amazing clothes. You're in your divine feminine energy, hell, you COMMAND energy like an EMPRESS does.

The power you hold is exactly why people stare at you.

They can't help but stare at you. Bro, your energy BECKONS for attention even if you don't want it.

I'm getting a feeling that you like to stay low key and just chill like because I'm getting a very Miss Independent vibe from you which is well deserved because you know how to get ish DONE 💅🏾 you're responsible like that. But it's this I'm-in-my-bubble-don't-BOTHER-me typa energy is why people I heard- are obsessed with you. People stare out of obsession.

They wanna observe every move you make cuz it's just that mesmerizing. Some people who stare at you may have have crushes on you or secretly admire you (platonic/romantic)

There's a deep respect that the people who stare at you, have for you. It's like they look to you for some kinda inspiration, depending on who is staring.

I'm also getting that you may move like deer, graceful. You may love to vibe out to your own energy.

You also know who to let in and who to keep away. You can SMELL bullshit from a mile away and keep that the fuck out.

This is some bad bitch energy, pile 3! I'm so pumped rn sitting in your energy!

Wow ok I'm getting a very specific message now. People stare at you so they can learn more about you? They wanna know what makes you tick (maybe there's somebody in your surrounding who wants to shoot theur shot with you?) Lol that's kinda cute.

But yea you have this free sprinted, wild feminine energy. You'll do what you want, when you want. You're the definition of never let them know your next move and BOY do I love that for you <3

You are a very interesting person. Cuz you're you. You're not afraid of expressing exactly how you feel and this makes you are really enjoyable to be around and so people stare at you cuz they enjoy how you come across- unabashed in your self expression and unapologetic in your authenticity!

Ahhhhhhh this some Queen Shi-

I'm so honoured to be reading for you rn!

You must also have your boundary game strong cuz I'm getting that you can easily cut people off if they don't come correct and people enjoy how authentic you are.

You're giving me MAD Tyla energy rn man. You could maybe even look her? Idk but whatever you look like trust me. People love to stare.

Hehe 🤭

People enjoy watching you take action. Lemme explain. If you're in school people love to stare at you while you're working on a project or something or just in class, taking notes n stuff. You have a way about you that's so addicting, man, people who's stare at you don't wanna stop 👀💀 like hello stop burning holes on my body from the intense staring? Excuse me like huh?

If you're at work, some of your colleges could stare at you out of admiration or simply cuz they have a crush on you (or your work ethic?) Or how you dress 🙃

Whatever it is you tend to pour your authenticity into everything you do. Small, big. Doesn't mattter. You do life in YOUR own (divine) way and that's awesome!

You the shit pile 3, I hope you know that.

Any physical/personality traits that people admire:

👉🏾 Your clothes!

👉🏾 You! Yes you read that right, you in your entirety, in your full essence is what people admire. It's your physical beauty. It's your intelligence. It's your taste in music and movies. Your hobbies. Your authenticity. Everything about you, girlie, is fantastic.

👉🏾 Your independence

👉🏾 Your courage to choose joy over fear

👉🏾 Your wisdom

👉🏾 Your ability to enjoy being alone

👉🏾 Your sense of dedication and devotion (to whatever you choose to give it to)

And with that were done with your reading for today!

Thank you so very much for reading!

I love you soooo much 🫶🏾🫂

Have yourself a nice rest of your day, now and see yaaaaa <3

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[voidoffline]

"I thought you people just paint your skin and dye your hair for fun" made me laugh so goddamn much I started wheezing. It completely caught me off guard. It’s so fucking hilarious

I mean it makes sense to assume so - we do dye our hair and paint our skin (tattoos, actual paint, makeup, henna exc) but it’s so fucking funny I love it

I don't think fantasy writers play enough with the concept of the different fantasy races having distinct ethnicities. Like imagine a group of mixed peoples, where the dwarves are all roasting each other like dwarves do, and one of them remarks that when he first saw one of the other dwarves in the group, he mistook her for a man. The other dwarves in the group blink in surprise - the closest that dwarves will go to an audible gasp of shock - and she pulls out a knife and tries to stab him.

Once the dwarves have been separated from each other and the situation has calmed, one of the humans asks another dwarf what that incident was about. Naturally a human woman would have been insulted too, but dwarves are so jovial about insulting each other, why was this matter different?

And the dwarf who was asked explains that there are things you can brutally insult another dwarf about, and there are things you simply do not touch. The dwarf-woman in question is from a completely different region of The Great Underground as the others, and her people have different norms about what kind of patterns men and women braid into their beards. The dwarf insulting her wasn't only insulting her appearance, he was being racist.

The human is surprised to learn that dwarves have different peoples, and the dwarf looks at them like at an idiot. Of course they do, they even look completely different from each other. And the human listens as the dwarf lists off various distinguishing clothing details too nuanced for a human to notice, and then how dwarves coming from different corners of the world have different physical traits, according to what kind of conditions their local stone types dictate.

The human spots a connection and goes oh! We have that too, though ours are not about rock types and tunnel air, but the weather aboveground. Humans' facial features vary by how hot, cold, arid or windy their ancestors' homelands were, and our skin tone varies by how much the sun shines in their native region.

The dwarf frowns at the last part, going "I thought you people just paint your skin and dye your hair for fun", and the human admits that yeah, we do that too, but not all the time, and not the whole skin. The dwarf asks, what of that tall woman the colour of dravite, her palms and the soles of her feet were lighter than the rest of her. Does that mean she paints herself dark to be more beautiful?

The human says no, that just happens naturally. Maybe it's because one's palms and feet aren't exposed to the sun as much, so they are paler.

The dwarf nods, still unsure whether this is actually legit or just the human habit of lying for fun, and proceeds to ask about the wild northman of their party. He is as pale as an olm, but the palms of his hands and the soles of his feet are dark. Are they painted, or naturally that way?

No, the human answers. That guy just doesn't bathe.

[dxckgrxsonx]

#9 with Jason Todd PLEASE I beg of u

Title: Payback, Backfired. Pairing: Jason Todd x (F) Reader, (Mentions of ExBF!Dick Grayson x (F) Reader). Words: 1.4k Warnings: SMUT 18+ Plot: Prompt 9 from this list. Revenge Sex. (Readers ex is Dick Grayson.) Notes: i literally had so much fun writing this. also hi my beautiful darling @sio-ina-bottle thank you sm for requesting this prompt ily <3

****

“Tell me.” Jason starts the second he sinks the tip of his cock into you, mouth twisted into a fucked up grin, all sharp and triumphant; like getting into your pants grants him some sort of award, maybe something akin to bragging rights. “Is he better than me?”

Your answer circles around a snarl, fury swelling thick and suffocating between your teeth, “Shut the fuck up. The last thing I want to be thinking about is my ex whilst you’re fucking me!”

Hindsight knocks at the edges of your skull, perspective swinging on its head to offer a different look at what you’ve gotten yourself into, because decisions birthed in the face of spite and heartbreak don’t typically have happy endings.

If you’re honest with yourself though, things have limits.

However, a compelling argument to it is this: you’re long past caring.

You’re hurting–more than you ever thought capable–and more than three-quarters of you wants him to hurt too.

You think of the breakup all over again and your stomach rolls, eyes burning, Dick Grayson was supposed to be the one you built a future with; the one you looked at and never turned away from. But he didn’t seem to have much trouble walking away from a relationship spanning almost a year.

“Hm.” Jason almost purrs, bottoming out, stretching your pussy wider than it’s ever been before because he’s thick and so heavy. “Your ex must have been something special if you’re getting all teary on me.”

His hand reaches up, palm covering your cheek so he can thumb away the wetness from your eyes. Under different circumstances the action would make you melt–would probably have you squeezing at his cock like you’re coming–but Dick would do the same thing when your emotions bubbled over and you can’t stand it.

There’s also the look on Jason’s face, the twitch in his mouth, the glimmer in his eyes. It’s almost like he’s conquered something; capitalised on someone else’s failure and taken it as his own.

“Be quiet.” Your voice shakes until you tighten your jaw to settle it. “And take your fucking hand off my face before I chew it off.”

Jason’s hand grabs at your jaw as he shifts, pulling out and sinking back in so your eyes roll to the back of your skull. He laughs, free hand sliding around the back of your knee to stretch you open wider, and you can’t quite silence your whimper as the head of his cock rubs so sweetly inside you.

“You’ve got a filthy mouth.” He hisses, pressing his fingers into your cheek to force open your mouth, the callouses on the tip of his pointer finger digs into your skin and you kick up your hips in frustration. “I take it he didn’t treat you like this very often, huh? You’re clearly not used to anything like this.”

The rhythm Jason sets is easy, a slick glide of his cock splitting you open until the empty space Dick left is filled with pleasure and your own weeping cunt. Something sparks up the length of your spine when he rubs at your clit and you groan, body shaking apart.

“You have no idea of the things he did to me.” Your words are slightly slurred from the way Jason shoves his fingers into your cheek, and the discomfort from it overlaps with the wet smack of his hips. “You’d be appalled.”

In your relationship, Dick was many things to you, a soft touch, a problem solver, clever beyond anything you’d ever seen before. But there were moments in your sex life where he was mean; when he guided you beyond anything you thought possible and made you hurt and beg and cry.

And the truth of it is: you absolutely loved it.

The world tips when Jason flips you over, and instead of being flat on your back–his well muscled body bullying you into the mattress–you’re manhandled onto your knees, face down in the pillows. His cock parts your folds, the tip pushing from your entrance to your clit and back again.

He angles his hips and pushes into you in one long stroke.

You moan and spasm around him.

“How about here?” He asks, pausing to hold himself deep in your pussy as his thumb rubs over your asshole. “Did he ever fuck you here?”

The noise you make is unhinged, a sob stuck between fury and ecstasy. Of course he’s fucked you there, you want to snap, worked you open using his fingers and tongue until you cried so softly for him to please, please fuck your ass.

But you can’t speak. Not when Jason fucks you, sinks his thumb juuust past that tight ring of muscle and praises you for taking it so well.

“Stop talking about him.” You try to say, every part of you shaking and fucked open. “The whole point of fucking you is to stop thinking of him.”

Jason stops talking eventually, which should have been a relief. But rather than putting energy into taunting reactions out of you. He fucks you through orgasm after orgasm until you splinter and crack, calling Jason’s name, overstimulated and vibrating like a live-wire.

His resounding laugh in response holds weight, holds something you’re not privy to.

If you had any sense about you, you would almost think he knows exactly who your ex is, despite the fact you’ve not once mentioned his name. Hell. The whole point of you taking Jason home was out of revenge because maybe, just maybe, Dick would find out and hurt just as much as you.

****

There’s noise coming from the living room.

Sheets off, you shuffle around your bedroom, Jason still sleeping in your bed. He’s completely naked, fabric pooling at his waist. The expanse of his chest is littered with scars, some thin and faded, others thick and pink with raised tissue. Oddly, it makes him more attractive, but you’re not sure if it’s because Dick had scars too.

You should know, after all, you’d pressed your lips against every single one of them.

The closest article of clothing is his t-shirt and you slip it over your head, the hem settling comfortably against the tops of your thighs. Underwear comes next, but the pair you find are torn, seams ripped apart under Jason’s hands. You ignore the arousal still clinging to the gusset of the fabric, the wetness soaked through when you flirted with Jason.

Frustration flares. He’s such a prick.

Finding your pyjama pants you slip them on and move towards the door. Glancing back at Jason you hesitate for a handful of seconds before exhaling and continuing forwards. He can get himself up if things go to shit.

Coming into the living room you freeze.

“What are you doing here?”

Dick stops at the sound of your voice, head snapping towards you so fast you take a half-step back. There’s a box on the coffee table, half filled with his things, in his hand is one of his hoodies–all black with a brilliant blue stripe down the sleeves–the very first one of his you ever wore.

“Getting my things.” Dick answers eventually. He sounds tired. You want to cry. “Figured I’d be able to get them before you woke up.”

You hum, not trusting your voice.

You still haven’t moved.

He continues, “I think there's some more stuff in the bedroom if you don’t mind.” It’s not a question, it’s a heads up of where he’ll be going next and you bristle.

“You can’t go in there right now.”

Dick’s eyebrows furrow, attention shifting to your slightly ajar bedroom door, “Why not.” He looks at you again, bright blue eyes lingering on the shirt you’re wearing. “That’s not mine.” Everything about his voice is unrecognisable and all the hair along your arms prick up.

Time stutters and stalls when Jason breaks the threshold, still shirtless, jeans hung obscenely low at his hips. The grin on his face is downright mocking, there isn’t a single thing on his face that isn’t coated in near cruelty.

You feel caught up in the middle of something you had no idea about. Jason was a quick, easy fuck. Someone you didn't know, someone you didn't think had any real connection to Dick; someone you could have used to make him jealous.

But right now, looking at the outright horror on Dick's face, and remembering the way Jason looked at you last night, you think he might have played you both.

“What’s up, Dickie.” Jason says, tone scarily even. He slings an arm over your shoulders and stares Dick in the eye, “You don’t mind me fucking your ex do you?”

****

[chrissssssmut]

Can I request a sweeter lesserafim x inexperienced male reader smut story?

BURNING DESIRE (Smut)

Le Sserafim OT5 x Male Reader

AN: Hey y'all! Here's an OT5 smut for you guys! Have a great weekend! 💗

The energy of the concert still lingered in the air, a mix of adrenaline and exhaustion settling over the hotel suite. The five members of LE SSERAFIM had changed into comfortable clothes, their post-performance glow making them look even more ethereal than usual. The male reader, their close friend and the person who had always supported them behind the scenes, sat in the center of the plush couch, surrounded on all sides by the girls.

"That was insane," Kazuha sighed, stretching her arms above her head. "The crowd was so loud tonight. I think my ears are still ringing."

"Yeah, but did you see how hyped they got when Y/N showed up backstage?" Chaewon smirked, nudging him lightly. "I swear, some of our fans are more excited about him than us."

Y/N chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "That’s just because I’ve been around for so long. They probably see me as your lucky charm or something."

Sakura, sitting beside him, tilted her head playfully. "Maybe we do too."

The atmosphere was relaxed, but there was an undeniable weight to their gazes. Something unspoken lingered between them, thickening the air. Y/N had always felt a close bond with the members, but tonight, something was different. The way they were looking at him—soft, warm, almost too focused—sent a strange shiver down his spine.

"You’re blushing," Yunjin pointed out with a teasing grin, leaning in a little closer. "Are we making you nervous, Y/N?"

"N-no," he stammered, but the way his voice cracked at the end made them giggle.

Eunchae, sitting cross-legged on the carpet, rested her chin on her hand. "You know, we’ve always wondered something about you."

"Oh?" Y/N tried to sound casual, but his heart was already beating too fast.

Chaewon exchanged glances with the others before leaning in, lowering her voice. "You’ve never really talked about relationships. Like… have you ever been with someone?"

The question made his breath hitch. He shifted in his seat, suddenly hyper aware of how close they all were. "I mean… not really."

A beat of silence followed. Then, Sakura smiled gently. "That’s cute."

"Cute?" Y/N echoed, incredulous. "Isn’t that kind of… sad?"

"No," Kazuha reassured him, her voice soft. "It just means you haven’t been with the right person yet."

Yunjin’s fingers brushed lightly against his arm, sending a wave of warmth through him. "You know we adore you, right? You’ve always been there for us, taking care of us in ways we don’t always realize."

Eunchae nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! And you’re always so sweet to us."

Just then, Sakura stood up with a smirk and walked over to the minibar. "You know what? I think tonight calls for a little celebration." She pulled out a few bottles of liquor, making the others perk up in excitement.

"Ohhh, drinking with Y/N? This is gonna be fun!" Yunjin grinned, clapping her hands.

"Wait, wait, I don’t drink much—" Y/N started, but Chaewon was already handing him a glass, eyes twinkling.

"Don’t worry, we’ll go easy on you," she teased. "Just a little something to loosen up."

They started drinking, the warmth of the alcohol settling in, making the mood even more relaxed. Their laughter grew louder, their touches lingered just a little longer, and their words became bolder.

"Alright, confession time!" Kazuha announced, pointing at Y/N. "Tell us the truth—have you ever even kissed someone before?"

Y/N nearly choked on his drink. "W-what kind of question is that?!"

"Just answer!" Eunchae giggled, already leaning forward in anticipation.

He hesitated before mumbling, "...No."

The girls gasped in unison, their eyes widening in shock and amusement.

"No way," Yunjin whispered, inching closer. "That’s… adorable."

"I don’t know if adorable is the right word," Y/N muttered, flustered beyond belief.

Chaewon tilted her head. "So… does that mean you’ve never…?"

His face burned. "Never what?"

Sakura leaned in, her voice low and teasing. "Never been with anyone, in any way?"

He covered his face with his hands. "Oh my god, why are we talking about this?"

"Because we’re curious," Kazuha giggled. "And a little tipsy."

Eunchae beamed. "It just means we get to be your firsts!"

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words sinking in. Y/N slowly lowered his hands, only to find five pairs of eyes looking at him with a mix of amusement, fondness, and something deeper.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" Chaewon asked softly, her fingers grazing his hand.

Y/N swallowed hard. His heart was racing, and yet… he wasn’t afraid. There was no pressure, no expectations—just warmth, affection, and the quiet promise of something beautiful.

"Do you trust us?" Sakura murmured.

He nodded. "Yeah. I do."

Kazuha smiled, her fingers intertwining with his. "Then let us take care of you tonight."

Y/N’s breath caught in his throat. His mind raced, but their presence, their warmth, anchored him in place. Every part of him told him that this moment was safe, that whatever happened tonight would be something beautiful.

Sakura moved in first, resting her head against his shoulder, her arms wrapping around him in a slow, comforting embrace. "We don’t want to rush you, Y/N," she whispered. "We just want you to know how much you mean to us."

"You’ve always been here for us, always putting us first," Chaewon added, her fingers tracing small patterns on his hand. "Let us be here for you now."

Yunjin sighed, leaning against the couch, eyes warm and affectionate. "You’re always thinking about other people. When’s the last time you let yourself feel special? Truly wanted?"

Y/N’s lips parted, but no words came out. His chest felt tight, overwhelmed in the best way possible. It was one thing to admire them from afar, to support them as a friend—but this? This was something else entirely.

"We love you," Kazuha murmured, her fingers tightening around his. "All of us do."

Eunchae, still on the floor, beamed up at him. "We just want you to feel loved the way you deserve to be."

The warmth of their bodies surrounding him, the softness of their words, the way they were looking at him—it was intoxicating. Y/N had never felt like this before, never felt so completely enveloped in affection.

"Just relax, Y/N," Chaewon whispered.

"We’ll take care of everything," Yunjin added, her voice laced with affection.

"You don’t have to do anything… just let us love you," Kazuha finished, her voice barely above a breath.

One by one, they inched closer to you, their warmth sinking into your skin, the faint scent of perfume and liquor lingering in the air. A brush of fingers along your arm, a thigh pressing lightly against yours—each touch slow, deliberate, testing your reaction. The space around you seemed to shrink, their soft laughter wrapping around you like a haze, their voices dipping lower, sweeter. You could feel their gazes on you, playful, affectionate, filled with something deeper.

Yunjin was the first to close the distance, her face mere inches from yours, eyes gleaming with playful intent. She lingered there, watching you carefully, waiting for any sign of hesitation—any crack in your resolve. Then, without warning, she shifted to your side, her lips brushing against your earlobe in a featherlight kiss.

"Do we make you nervous, Y/N?" she whispered, her voice dripping with amusement.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry as your mind scrambled for words. "Uhm… uhmm… uhh…" Every attempt at a response crumbled before it could form, leaving you stammering helplessly.

Yunjin let out a low chuckle, her lips curving into a knowing smile. She bit down on her lower lip, tilting her head slightly as she studied your flustered expression. "I guess that’s a yes," she mused, her voice laced with amusement and something deeper—something teasing, almost predatory.

Before you could even think of a way to recover, you felt her hand settle on your thigh. Her fingers, warm and deliberate, began tracing slow, featherlight circles against the fabric of your pants. The heat of her touch seeped through, sending an unexpected shiver up your spine.

"You’re so cute when you get all shy like this," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper as she leaned in closer. "It makes me wanna tease you even more…"

A chorus of soft giggles surrounded you as the other girls watched, their gazes filled with warmth and mischief. You could feel the heat of their presence pressing in from all sides, their bodies inching just a little closer, their touches lingering just a little longer.

"Let Yunjin do her thing," Chaewon purred, her voice soft but filled with unmistakable intent.

"But don’t worry," Kazuha added, her fingers trailing along your arm. "We’re all gonna take care of you."

Sakura smiled, her eyes dark with something unreadable. "We just want you to know how much we love and appreciate you… for everything."

Eunchae beamed up at you, her voice sweet but filled with anticipation. "So just relax, Y/N. Let us show you."

The air felt heavier now, charged with something undeniable. Your heart pounded in your chest as the warmth of their touches, their voices, their closeness—all of it—began to overwhelm you.

A shiver ran down your spine as Yunjin’s soft lips ghosted over your skin, trailing slow, delicate kisses from your neck to your jaw. Each touch sent warmth coursing through your body, the tenderness behind them making your heart pound even harder. By the time her lips finally brushed against yours, you could feel just how deliberate every movement was—gentle yet intoxicating, as if she wanted to savor every second.

Her hand drifted lower, fingers tracing lazy patterns along your torso before reaching the waistband of your pants. She toyed with the fabric, her touch featherlight yet teasing, making your breath hitch..

A knowing smirk curled on Yunjin’s lips as her fingers toyed with the waistband of your pants, her touch unbearably light. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, voice dripping with seduction, "Mmm… look at you. So eager, so sensitive. Are you this excited just for me, baby?"

I swallowed hard, my breath shaky as I felt the heat pooling in my body. “Y-Yunjin… what are you doing to me?” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, laced with both nervousness and anticipation.

Yunjin pressed a finger against my lips, her eyes dark with amusement. "Shhh, no talking," she whispered, her voice dripping with sultry command. Her hand traced a slow, deliberate path downward, slipping beneath the waistband of my boxers. A sharp inhale left my lips as her fingers wrapped around my length, featherlight and teasing. She stroked me slowly, her touch agonizingly gentle, as if savoring the feeling. She captured my mouth in another kiss—this time even deeper.

She stroked me slowly—gentle enough to show they wanted to take care of me, yet firm enough to remind me that this was real. That this was happening. Every stroke sent a shiver down my spine, a moan slipping past my lips no matter how hard I tried to hold it back. The other girls watched intently, their eyes dark with desire, amusement flickering in their gazes as they took in the sight of me unraveling.

I swallowed hard, my voice shaky. “T-This feels… so—ah…“ I barely managed to get the words out before another moan escaped, my head tilting back as pleasure clouded my senses.

Yunjin chuckled, her breath warm against my ear. “You’re doing so well… just let yourself feel it, okay?”

Chaewon glanced up at me, her lips curling into a soft smile before letting her tongue trace along my length. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered, Y/N,” she murmured between slow, lingering licks.

Yunjin chuckled beside me, her grip steady as she continued stroking me with that same intoxicating tenderness. “We want you to feel good,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to my jaw. “Just let us take care of you Y/N, okay?”

I let out a shaky breath, my body already giving in to their touch. “I… I don’t even know what to say…” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

Chaewon giggled, her fingers tracing small patterns along my thighs. “Then don’t say anything,” she cooed. “Be a good boy, Y/N.”

As Yunjin’s hand continued its slow, deliberate strokes—slick with Chaewon’s warmth—the other girls began peeling away their clothes, their eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration. My head felt light, completely lost in the overwhelming rush of sensations, my body surrendering to the warmth of their touches and whispers.

Sakura let out a soft giggle as she slipped her top off, her voice gentle and soothing. “You’re doing so well for us, baby… such a good boy.”

Kazuha ran a hand through her silky hair, eyes filled with admiration. “We’re so proud of you, Y/N. Just let go, okay? Let us take care of you.”

Eunchae playfully traced a finger down my chest, her smile sweet and reassuring. “You don’t have to think about anything, just feel us. You deserve all of this.”

Yunjin leaned in closer, her breath warm against my ear as she tightened her grip just enough to make me whimper. “That’s right, baby… just be good for us. We’ve been waiting so long to love you like this.”

The intoxicating scent of liquor and lingering warmth of intimacy filled the room, wrapping around us like a haze. Every touch, every whispered praise, every lingering kiss was cherished by the girls—each of them taking their time, savoring the moment as they guided me through my first experience with nothing but love and devotion in their eyes.

As Yunjin’s strokes slowed to a stop, she gave my length one last squeeze before pulling away with a teasing smirk. Kazuha, who had been watching intently, gently moved Chaewon aside, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face as she spoke.

“You had your fun, unnie,” Kazuha murmured with a soft giggle. “But I think it’s time we show him just how much we’ve always wanted this… how much we’ve always wanted him.”

She turned her gaze to me, eyes filled with warmth and something deeper—something longing. She ran her fingers along my chest, tracing slow, delicate patterns as she leaned in, her lips barely ghosting over mine.

“You’ve been so good for us, Y/N,” Kazuha whispered, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Now… let me show you how it feels to be inside me—to finally be where you belong.”

The other girls watched closely, their eyes dark with affection and desire.

“Mm, he looks so cute when he’s flustered,” Sakura cooed, her voice like silk. “Don’t be nervous, baby.”

Yunjin let out a soft hum, tilting her head. “Just relax, love… let Kazuha show you how much we love you.”

Kazuha’s fingers trailed lower, her touch featherlight as she kissed me again—slow and deep, as if she wanted me to feel every ounce of her adoration.

As Kazuha shifted, she hooked her fingers around the lace of her panties, moving them to the side with a teasing slowness. Her eyes never left mine—soft yet filled with unspoken longing.

She positioned herself carefully, her breath hitching as she slowly sank down onto my cock. A shiver ran through both of us as I felt her warmth completely envelop me, drawing a deep moan from my lips.

Kazuha let out a soft gasp, her hands pressing against my chest for balance. “Oh… Y/N,” she whispered, her voice laced with both pleasure and affection. “You feel… so perfect inside me.”

The other girls watched with a mixture of adoration and excitement.

"That’s it, baby," Sakura purred, her fingers lightly tracing my jaw. "Let yourself feel everything… let her take care of you."

"You’re doing so well," Eunchae added sweetly, her eyes shining. "Such a good boy for us."

Yunjin smirked, her lips brushing against my ear. "Feels good, doesn’t it?" she murmured. "She’s been dreaming about this moment just as much as you have… we all have."

Kazuha let out a shaky breath as she started to move, her hands gripping my shoulders for support. “Just let go, Y/N,” she whispered, her lips grazing mine. “Let us love you the way you deserve.”

Kazuha’s movements were slow and deliberate at first, each roll of her hips filled with tenderness, as if she wanted me to feel every inch of her warmth. Her flexibility became evident with the way she moved—graceful, controlled, yet so intoxicatingly sensual.

As her pace quickened slightly, it wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was just enough to make me feel everything—every soft, wet, pulsing sensation inside her. My breath hitched, my hands instinctively finding her waist, gripping her gently as she took me deeper into her heat.

Kazuha let out a soft, breathy moan, her fingers tightening against my chest. “Mmm… Y/N… you fit so perfectly,” she whispered, her voice dripping with affection.

Chaewon brushed a hand through Kazuha’s hair, tucking loose strands behind her ear. “Take your time, Zuha,” she cooed. “Make him feel just how much we adore him.”

“You’re so good for us, baby,” Yunjin murmured, pressing a kiss to my jaw. “Just relax… let her take care of you.”

Kazuha met my gaze, her lips curving into a sweet, breathless smile. “You like it, don’t you?” she asked, her voice filled with warmth. “Being loved by all of us like this?”

I let out a shaky breath, my fingers gently gripping Kazuha’s waist as she continued to move. “I… I love being with you all,” I murmured, my voice laced with both affection and pleasure. “Spending time with you, laughing with you… it’s always been special. But this—” I paused, swallowing hard as another wave of warmth enveloped me. “This feels so different… so intense.”

Kazuha’s movements didn’t stop, her soft, rhythmic motions sending shivers down my spine. She leaned in closer, her lips hovering near mine. “That’s because we love you,” she whispered sweetly. “And we want you to feel just how much.”

Eunchae ran her fingers through my hair, placing a lingering kiss on my temple. “That’s right, baby,” she cooed. “We’ve always wanted to show you just how precious you are to us.”

Sakura giggled softly from the side, her bare skin glowing under the dim light. “And you’re being so good for us, Y/N,” she praised. “Such a good boy to your 5 exclusive girlfriends.”

Kazuha moaned softly as she rolled her hips a little deeper, her fingers intertwining with mine. “So just let go,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Let us love you the way you deserve.”

Kazuha let out a soft moan as she felt me twitch inside her, her hands pressing gently against my chest as she slowed to a stop. She gazed down at me, warmth filling her eyes. “Not yet, sweetheart,” she murmured, brushing a few strands of hair from my face. “Let’s make this last.”

Turning her head, she signaled to Sakura and Eunchae. Without a word, Sakura crawled closer, her fingers delicately tracing my jaw before pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “You’re being so good for us,” she whispered against my skin.

Eunchae giggled, her touch featherlight as she ran her hand along my arm. “Hope you’re ready, Y/N…”

Kazuha slowly lifted herself from my cock, a quiet whimper leaving her lips before she leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to my cheek. “I’ll be right here,” she whispered.

My breath hitched as I looked up at Sakura and Eunchae. Their eyes were filled with love, their touches tender, and I could feel it—this wasn’t just desire. It was something much deeper. And the night was far from over.

Sakura and Eunchae shared a knowing glance before lowering themselves, their warm breaths ghosting over my sensitive skin. Their tongues flicked out, tracing slow, deliberate paths along my cock—one after the other, alternating between teasing licks and gentle kisses, as if savoring every inch of me.

A shudder ran through my body, my breath hitching as their slick touches sent waves of pleasure through me. Eunchae giggled, her fingers wrapping around my cock before pressing it against her cheek, her soft skin warm against me. “You’re so cute when you’re like this,” she murmured, flashing me an innocent smile that contrasted with the way her hand caressed me.

Sakura, still close, placed a kiss just above where Eunchae’s grip was, her lips barely brushing against my heated skin. “Such a good boy,” she whispered, her voice sweet and full of adoration. “You’re taking everything so well, letting us love you the way you deserve.”

Their words wrapped around me like a warm embrace, making it impossible to think, to do anything but surrender to their touch.

Eunchae’s touch was gentle yet reassuring as she guided my hands, placing them atop their heads with a sweet, encouraging smile. “Here,” she whispered, nuzzling against my thigh. “Hold onto us… don’t be shy.”

Her warmth, her voice—it all felt so comforting, even in a moment so intense. My fingers tangled into their soft hair, gripping just enough to feel them beneath my touch. They let out soft hums of approval before turning their attention back to my cock, their tongues meeting at my tip before slowly trailing down my length, taking their time to savor every inch.

I couldn’t help the moans that escaped me, my body trembling as they worshipped me with each slick stroke of their tongues. “F-Fuck…” I groaned, my voice barely above a whisper, overwhelmed by their devotion.

Eunchae giggled against me, the vibrations sending a shockwave through my core. “Mmm, we love hearing you like this,” she purred, her lips brushing against my sensitive skin. “Just let it all out, okay? We want you to feel everything…”

As Sakura and Eunchae continued their slow, sweet worship of my cock, Chaewon crawled closer, her presence undeniable as she straddled my face. Her breath was warm, her voice soft yet commanding as she ran her fingers through my hair.

“Be a good boy for me,” she whispered, her tone laced with affection and need. “You’ve been feeling so good, right? Now… return the favor.”

She lowered herself gently, her soaked pussy pressing against my lips. The scent of her arousal filled my senses, dizzying and intoxicating. My hands instinctively gripped her thighs, pulling her closer as I hesitantly flicked my tongue against her entrance.

Chaewon let out a shaky moan, her fingers tightening in my hair. “Mmm, that’s it,” she cooed, her hips rolling slowly. “Just like that… you’re such a fast learner.”

I kept working my tongue on Chaewon, each flick making her moan, her grip tightening as she held onto Yunjin and Kazuha for support. Her thighs trembled slightly, and I could feel her body reacting to every movement of my tongue.

“Mmm, just like that,” she breathed out, her fingers threading through my hair before tugging me closer. “I’m so wet for you, Y/N. You’re doing so good love.”

Her praise sent a rush of warmth through me, fueling my eagerness to please her. Every moan, every shaky breath she let out only made me want to hear more. I adjusted my movements, finding the spot that made her body jolt, and when I focused there, she gasped, her grip tightening.

“Fuck—keep going,” she whimpered, her voice dripping with pleasure. “You’re making me feel so good, baby.”

Chaewon’s grip on my hair tightened, her nails lightly scratching my scalp as her thighs trembled around my head. “I’m—ahh, I’m gonna—” Her voice broke into a desperate whimper, her breathing ragged as her body tensed. But I didn’t stop. If anything, the way she gasped and shuddered only pushed me to go harder, my tongue flicking and circling over her most sensitive spot, determined to pull her over the edge.

Her hips bucked instinctively against my mouth, her moans growing louder, more frantic. “Oh—Y/N—” she cried, her body finally giving in as her release crashed over her like a tidal wave. Her thighs clenched around my head, her entire body shaking as she came undone. I felt her sweetness coat my lips and chin, her taste intoxicating as I eagerly lapped up every last drop.

Chaewon’s body slumped forward, her chest rising and falling with each deep breath. Her fingers stayed tangled in my hair as she tried to steady herself, her thighs still quivering from the aftershocks. “F-Fuck…” she whimpered, her voice breathy and dazed. “You’re so good at this, baby…”

She finally let go, lifting herself slightly, her flushed face filled with satisfaction as she gazed down at me. “You really know how to take care of your girls, don’t you?” she teased, her lips curving into a satisfied smirk.

Yunjin’s fingers trailed up my chest, leaving a trail of warmth as she pressed me firmly against the wall. Her touch was confident, yet the way she looked at me—dark, filled with longing—held an unmistakable tenderness. She reached for the two shot glasses on the nearby table, handing me one before clinking it against hers. “Drink with me,” she whispered, her lips curling into a small, teasing smile.

I obeyed, the burn of the liquor spreading through my throat, mixing with the heat already simmering between us. Before I could fully process the sensation, Yunjin pulled me closer, her breath fanning against my lips. Slowly, she backed me up until my spine was flush against the wall. Her hands gripped my waist, her body pressing against mine, the space between us nonexistent.

“I want to try something a little different,” she murmured, her voice lower, more sultry. “I want to be a little rough with you this time… but don’t worry, baby. I’ll still be gentle. I’ll still show you just how much I love you.”

There was no hesitation in her movements as she lifted one leg, hooking it against the wall beside me, her flexibility on full display. Her other hand reached between us, wrapping around my cock—still slick from the attention Sakura and Eunchae had given me—guiding me to her entrance. I could feel the warmth of her pussy pressing against my tip, teasing me, coaxing me forward.

She didn’t take me in immediately. Instead, she took her time, rolling her hips forward just enough to let me feel the slick heat of her, dragging my length through her folds in slow, deliberate strokes. A breathy moan escaped her lips, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment before she looked at me again, pupils blown wide with desire.

“Look at me, Y/N,” she murmured, her voice soft but commanding, fingers gently cupping my jaw. “I want to see those pretty eyes when I take you.”

I swallowed hard, my head spinning—not just from the alcohol but from her, from the way she made me feel like the center of her universe. And then, finally, she sank down onto me, inch by inch, her warmth enveloping me in a way that had me gasping. Her nails dug into my shoulders as she let out a shaky breath, her body adjusting to mine, fitting together like we were meant for this.

Yunjin pressed her forehead against mine, her lips ghosting over my own as she whispered, “That’s it, baby. You feel so good inside me… just like I knew you would.”

As Yunjin continued to ride me, her movements slow yet deliberate, the other girls moved closer, surrounding us in a haze of warmth and desire. Their hands traced along her body, soft fingers caressing her skin as if worshipping the sight before them.

Chaewon was the first to lean in, her lips brushing against Yunjin’s shoulder before trailing up to the curve of her jaw. “You look so beautiful like this, unnie,” she murmured, pressing a soft kiss just beneath Yunjin’s ear.

Sakura, never one to be left behind, tilted Yunjin’s chin toward her and captured her lips in a deep, sensual kiss. A quiet moan slipped from Yunjin’s mouth as their tongues tangled, the vibration of it sending a jolt of pleasure straight through me. Her pace faltered for a moment, her walls clenching around me in response to the overwhelming sensations from all around her.

Kazuha and Eunchae weren’t far behind. Kazuha’s hands slid down Yunjin’s back, pulling her closer, while Eunchae placed teasing kisses along her collarbone. “You’re taking such good care of him, unnie,” Eunchae whispered, her voice filled with admiration. “We should reward you, don’t you think?”

Yunjin pulled away from Sakura’s kiss, her breath heavy as she looked down at me with dark, love-filled eyes. A teasing smile played on her lips as she cupped my face with both hands. “Looks like we all love you a little too much, baby,” she whispered, her hips rolling down onto me with a bit more pressure. “I hope you’re ready… because we’re not stopping until we’ve completely ruined you.”

Yunjin’s pace grew erratic, her body pressing even closer against mine as we both teetered on the edge. My breaths came in desperate pants, my grip on her tightening as my climax built up to an inevitable peak.

“I-I’m gonna cum…” I gasped, my voice barely above a whisper.

The girls’ eyes sparkled with anticipation, their hands still tracing over my body, leaving kisses and love bites in their wake. But before anyone else could speak, Chaewon smirked and spoke up.

“Yunjin should have him first,” she declared, her tone soft yet decisive. “The rest of us will get our turns… but for now, let her feel everything.”

The others giggled, nodding in agreement. “Mmm, it’s only fair,” Kazuha purred, running her fingers along my chest. “We’ll just make sure he doesn’t forget about us after.”

Yunjin tightened her hold around my neck, pressing her forehead against mine. “That’s right… give it all to me, baby,” she whispered, her voice dripping with need. “I want to feel your cum completely… let me have all of you.”

With one last deep thrust, I came undone inside her, my entire body shuddering as I spilled deep into her warmth. Yunjin let out a breathy moan, her grip on me tightening as she trembled from the sensation.

“Mmm… so warm,” she murmured, biting her lip as she rocked her hips just a little more, as if savoring every drop. “You’re so deep inside me, baby… I can feel everything.”

Sakura let out a dreamy sigh as she pressed a soft kiss against my shoulder. “That was beautiful… but don’t think we’re done just yet.”

Kazuha giggled, her fingers gently tracing patterns on my chest as she leaned in closer. “So?” she purred, her voice like silk. “How was that for your first time?”

I let out a breathy chuckle, still trying to catch my breath. “That was… the best first experience ever,” I admitted, my voice laced with lingering pleasure.

Kazuha smirked, her eyes filled with mischief as she pressed a soft kiss against my jaw. “Good,” she murmured. “Because you still have four more pussies to fill up.”

As my breathing slowed, I felt the warmth of their bodies surrounding me. Yunjin traced soft patterns on my chest, pressing a lingering kiss to my jaw. Sakura pulled me into her arms, whispering sweet nothings as Chaewon stroked my hair. Kazuha giggled, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "That was just the first round, you know."

I let out a tired chuckle, my body completely spent. "I don’t think I can even move right now…"

Eunchae playfully pouted, her fingers dancing across my skin. "Aww, but we’re not done showing you how much we love you."

The girls exchanged mischievous glances before snuggling closer, their hands still exploring, their lips pressing lazy kisses onto my flushed skin. Yunjin smirked, cupping my face gently. "You’re ours now, Y/N. Always."

I sighed, melting into their touch, my heart pounding—not just from what had happened, but from what was still to come.

[nonepizzawithleftglitter]

I mean, I'm pretty far on the low end of the imagination spectrum - not quite aphantasia but when reading I don't really see anything but vaguely shaped blobs in a white void - so I actually am not imagining much of anything when reading. (It's great for watching movie adaptations "I did not imagine them to look like that!" meanwhile I'm like hih so that's what that grey shape is supposed to look like. Fun.)

But I am still perfectly capable of understanding what figurative language conveys. In a language that is not my native language. Which honestly just makes me more baffled at that type of people.

I’m so sorry but in the nicest way possible do yall actually read books or just read words??? Cause I’ve been seeing that trend of people not understanding how “snarled” and “eyes darkened” and “eyes softened” etc. was used in a book and like…

Genuinely, do yall just not have imagination?? Or not understand figurative language??? Also eyes do literally darken and soften have you not lived a life??? How do you read with no imagination? Is this how you get through so many books in one month - you simply don’t take the time the understand the words as they are read?

[sunflowersonatas]

walk me home?— campus part 2

james potter x shy!f!reader / college au / fluff / first date

summary: James has escalated his pursuit of you, including waiting outside your classes every day this week and cornering you for coffee. You're not too bothered.

a/n: i just have to preface this by telling everyone: sadly this is not the american college experience at all. i did a coffee date w some dude on campus before and it was insanely awkward idk why people say it's a good idea i felt trapped like fight or flight. not with james hehehe <3 enjoyy!! love, sunny ☀️🌻

wc: 1453

Somehow—against all odds, logic, and personal preference—you've acquired a persistent shadow. A tall, perpetually disheveled, insufferably charming shadow who, in just one week, has embedded himself so thoroughly into your routine that you're starting to suspect he’s memorized your class schedule.

You're barely a few steps out of class when James Potter materializes beside you, falling into step as if he’s been waiting all day for this exact moment.

"James," you say, shaking your head, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips.

"What? Not even a hello?" he asks, feigning offense, hand pressed dramatically to his chest.

You lower your gaze slightly, feeling the warmth creep up your neck already. "Hello, James."

His grin stretches wider, as though you've just given him a rare prize. "See? That wasn’t so difficult. Now, let’s talk business."

You glance at him warily. "Business?"

James gestures broadly. "Your schedule is looking suspiciously empty. It’s Friday. No more classes. Which means, by my calculations, you have exactly zero valid reasons not to come get coffee with me."

You open your mouth to argue, but James is already steamrolling ahead. "Now, before you refuse—consider the benefits. Free caffeine. Excellent company. Life-changing conversation."

You shift on your feet, suppressing the small smile threatening to form. "Life-changing?"

James nods solemnly. "I have testimonials."

You exhale a quiet laugh, looking away. His eyes gleam at the sight of your amusement.

"There it is," he murmurs, triumphant. "You like me."

Your head snaps up. "I do not."

"Oh, but you do," he counters smoothly, tilting his head. "You're trying so hard not to smile. It’s adorable."

You fold your arms, stubbornly attempting composure. "I haven’t agreed to anything."

James raises his hands in mock surrender. "Wouldn’t dream of forcing you, love. Just… strongly encouraging."

You glance at him, then at the path ahead, then back at him. He’s waiting, hopeful, expectant.

And maybe—just maybe—you don’t mind as much as you did last week. It’s a strange feeling, letting someone like James Potter weave himself so effortlessly into your routine. He’s overwhelming, yes, but he’s also… fun. And it’s been a while since you let yourself have fun.

"Fine," you sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "One coffee."

James beams. "Ah, sweet victory. Off we go, then."

The coffee shop hums with soft chatter, the hiss of the espresso machine blending with the murmur of conversation. The air smells of roasted coffee beans and warm vanilla, and the lighting is just dim enough to feel cozy. James, unsurprisingly, does not do things halfway.

Before you can even reach for your wallet, he’s already ordering—for you.

And not just anything. Your order. Exactly right.

Your lips part slightly in surprise. "How did you—?"

James waves a hand. "Lucky guess."

You narrow your eyes at him, but there's no real suspicion—just a quiet, fluttery sensation unfurling in your chest, something light and impossible to ignore, like the first pull of a current beneath still water.

James grins, clearly pleased with himself, handing the barista some cash before you can protest. "See? This is why you keep me around. I'm thoughtful."

"You're relentless."

"That's a secondary bonus."

You both settle into a small corner table, the wooden surface slightly worn beneath your fingers. James stretches his arms behind his head, impossibly at ease, like he belongs here, like he belongs anywhere. Then, with a wicked grin that does very little to put you at ease, he leans forward, eyes gleaming.

"All right, now’s the perfect time to tell me your entire life story. All your deepest fears, secrets, insecurities. Lay ‘em on me."

You let out a quiet laugh, stirring your drink. "That’s a lot of pressure for coffee conversation."

James nods, unbothered. "I believe in efficiency."

You shake your head, the smile still playing at your lips. "I think I’ll stick to the basics."

"Fine, fine. I'll lower my expectations." He rests his chin on his hand, watching you with an exaggerated intensity. "Start with your major."

You tell him what you study.

James blinks. Then, as if processing, his mouth falls slightly open. "Wow." His tone isn’t teasing—it’s genuine, almost reverent, like he’s truly impressed.

You frown slightly. "What?"

"You're, like, way smarter than me."

You let out a short, surprised laugh. "I doubt that."

James shakes his head, pointing at you as if making a grand declaration. "No, no, no. See, I do… numbers and spreadsheets and networking. But you? You actually know things. Like, real, impressive things. I'm a fool in comparison."

You feel the warmth creep up your neck, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I think you're being dramatic."

"I think you're underestimating how impressed I am right now."

You roll your eyes, but it's hopeless—James is grinning at you like he's already won. And, honestly? You can’t remember a conversation ever flowing this easily, a date—if you can call it that—ever feeling this natural. You don’t really mind at all.

James leans in slightly, studying you, then smirks like he’s thought of something brilliant. "You know, I think this is fate. You feel these sparks too, right? Might as well start brainstorming names for our firstborn."

You nearly choke on your drink. "Excuse me?"

James tilts his head, completely unfazed. "I’m just saying—planning ahead is key to a successful partnership. What do you think? Something classic? Or are we going bold?"

You stare at him for a beat, then, with a completely straight face, say, "Oh, I’ve actually thought about this. Three kids. Probably two boys first, then a girl."

It’s James’ turn to blink. "You’re joking."

You stir the ice around your drink, unbothered. "I don’t joke about the important things."

James runs a hand through his hair, looking utterly delighted. "I knew I was right about you."

You huff, shaking your head, but there’s no hiding the way your smile lingers. James watches you, a little too closely, his expression flickering just for a second—like he’s caught on something more important than just teasing you.

He huffs a laugh, drumming his fingers against the table as you take the last sip of your coffee and stand. You hesitate for just a second, your heart kicking up a beat, knowing full well what you’re about to do. But you’re enjoying this—enjoying him—far too much to stop yourself now.

Without overthinking it, you extend your hand toward him, tilting your head with an easy smile—one that feels just a little too bold but not unwelcome. "Walk me home?" you ask sweetly; the sugar rush nearly stops his heart.

James blinks, caught off guard for the briefest moment, before his entire face lights up. His grin is immediate, wide, and entirely unfiltered—like you’ve just handed him the world on a silver platter. "Oh, absolutely. Best offer I’ve had all day."

His fingers wrap around yours, warm and steady, as he rises to his feet, still beaming like an idiot.

You roll your eyes but don’t pull away as he falls into step beside you, his usual effortless confidence radiating off of him. The walk back is unhurried, the conversation dipping into easy, meaningless things—complaints about professors, half-hearted debates over the best late-night food spots, James’ ongoing theory that the campus squirrels are running some kind of underground empire.

When you finally reach your building, he rocks back on his heels, hands shoved into his pockets, watching you with something unreadable in his expression.

"So," he muses, eyes glinting mischievously, "any chance I can charm you into another date?"

You arch a brow. "Since when was this a date?"

James gasps, pressing a hand over his chest like you’ve just wounded him. "Hey—unfair. You let me buy you coffee, we had riveting conversation, and I made you laugh at least four times."

"Three times," you correct, though you both know it was more.

He tuts, shaking his head. "Should’ve been four. I’ll have to try harder next time."

You scoff, but it’s half-hearted, the corners of your lips twitching upward. "You never actually declared it to be a date."

He leans in slightly, voice dropping into something smoother, something undeniably teasing. "I can declare the next one, if you’d like. Make it official."

Your stomach flutters, traitorous. "I’ll think about it."

James beams like that’s a victory. "I’ll take it."

He steps back, tossing you a wink as he starts down the path. "Don't miss me too much, love."

You linger at the door for just a second too long, watching him go before finally slipping inside—warm in a way that has nothing to do with the coffee.

And maybe, just maybe, already looking forward to the next time he tries to charm you into another one.

☀️🌻 masterlist

[mocchiixxx]

Maybe Three?

Pairing: Joshua Hong x Reader Genre: Fluff, Playful Teasing, Established Relationship

Summary: Joshua’s White Day cover is sweet, until you catch one lyric: “We might have kids, maybe three.” Cue endless teasing, flustered protests, and you dubbing him Future Dad of Three.

You’re curled up on the couch, scrolling through Weverse and Twitter, watching Carats collectively lose their minds over Joshua’s latest song cover.

Free Love by HONNE.

A perfect choice for White Day. His voice melts through the lyrics like honey, effortlessly smooth, the kind of sound that makes your heart feel lighter.

You’re grinning, happily munching on snacks while watching his cover for the third time, when—

"We might have kids, maybe three."

You nearly choke on your chips.

Pause. Rewind. Play again.

"We might have kids, maybe three."

Oh. Oh.

Your eyes narrow. A slow smirk creeps onto your lips.

Time to have some fun.

You quickly type a message and send it.

You: Three kids, huh?

You don’t expect him to reply so fast, but barely a minute later, your phone buzzes.

Shua: Huh? Shua: What about it?

You bite back a giggle before calling him. He picks up almost immediately.

"Hey, babe," he greets, voice warm and familiar.

"Joshua Hong," you say sweetly. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

"...What?" He sounds confused, and it only fuels your mischief.

"I was just enjoying your lovely White Day gift to Carats," you continue dramatically, "when suddenly, my own boyfriend starts manifesting three kids out of nowhere."

A pause. Then—

"Oh my god."

You burst into laughter. "Oh my god what, Shua?"

"You’re not seriously bringing this up right now."

"Oh, I am." You grin. "So, tell me. Since when were three kids in the plan?"

"Babe—" He lets out an exasperated laugh. "It’s just a lyric. It’s part of the song."

"Hmm." You pretend to think. "I don’t know. Sounded kinda intentional to me. You sure you weren’t subtly hinting something to Carats?"

"Y/N!" His voice rises an octave, flustered.

You cackle. "I mean, it is White Day. Maybe you wanted to make a special announcement?"

"Stop!" He groans, but you can hear the smile in his voice.

You keep going. "So, should I expect Carats to start making baby name lists? Or maybe a hashtag? #JoshuaThreeKidsEra? Oh! Maybe some fanart of tiny little Joshuas running around?"

"You're enjoying this too much."

"Of course I am!" You grin. "My boyfriend accidentally just sent Carats into a future dad frenzy."

Joshua lets out another groan, but you can tell he’s laughing on the other end. "I hate you."

"You love me," you correct, stretching out on the couch. "But really, babe. Three kids? Not one, not two—three?"

He sighs dramatically. "I literally just sang the lyrics as they are. I wasn’t thinking about it."

"But subconsciously—"

"Y/N."

You giggle. "Okay, okay, I’ll stop." A pause. Then, unable to resist, you add, "So... if not three, then how many?"

"I’m hanging up."

"Joshua—"

Click.

You stare at your screen in shock before bursting into laughter.

Not even five seconds later, a text comes in.

Shua: I love you but you’re evil. You: Love you too, future dad of three <3 Shua: Y/N!!

Grinning, you lock your phone.

Oh, this is definitely going to be fun.

[tsunodaradio]

something to you ⛐ 𝐀𝐀𝟐𝟑

alex has a soft spot for you. (or: the one where alex gets mad on your behalf.)

♫ starring: alex albon x reader. ♫ word count: 0.9k. ♫ includes: fluff, romance. profanity. reader has a teensy tiny injury. carlos makes an appearance. ♫ commentary box: happy alex day! ❥ i have a couple more alex plots planned, but for now, here's my last -ish installment to the soft spot mini-series. 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You thought you’ve seen Alex in every possible light. 

You’ve known him for quite a bit, after all. It’s the type of friendship that has ebbed and flowed despite distance and time. You’ve been given a front row to the dozens of men that Alex has been throughout the years. 

The happy-go-lucky, well-spoken Alex the racing world knew. The relentless Alex who drove with grit and grace. He’s come to you with tears of frustration over losses beyond his control; he’s come to you beaming because of wins he rightfully deserved 

Those are the versions of Alex that you know. And so you’re colored surprise to meet another one— 

He’s kneeling in front of you now, his hand cupping your cheek. This is an expression you haven’t seen on Alex’s face in… ever, really. His jaw is clenched and there’s a hint of flint in his eyes, a fire that you hadn’t known was possible to see. 

“Hey.” You can tell from that single word that Alex is holding himself back. He’s forcing himself to keep his voice level, to not scare you off. Even now, he’s considerate.

“I’m not mad at you,” he repeats, “I just want to know what happened.” A pause. Then, he adds a softer, “Please.” 

The plea nearly makes you crack. The thing is— it shouldn’t be a big deal. Not to you, at least. It was just an unfortunate incident, a case of overzealous paparazzi recognizing you.  

One of them had gotten just a little bit too pushy. They had insisted something about you being the newest WAG on the paddock, and when you tried to slip away, they’d tried to get their shot anyway after calling you something like a stuck-up bitch.

The cut between your eyebrows is negligible. It’s a barely-there gash, something you know will scar over and heal in no time. 

Alex is treating it like the photographer had broken your bone. “I’m fine,” you insist, your voice cracking on the second word. You clear your throat before you go on, “I’m sure they didn’t mean it.” 

Carlos interrupts from a couple of paces away. “It was not an accident,” the older driver says, his lips pursed in poorly concealed rage. He had been the first to get to you; had been the one to call over Alex when he noticed the cut that hadn’t been there earlier that day. “They are saying the paparazzi swung.” 

Alex hisses in a breath through his teeth. You wince. Carlos slinks away, as if realizing this is not a conversation he should be taking part in. 

Little too late, you think wryly as Alex’s searching gaze rakes over your face.

“I need a name,” he says evenly. “If not a name, a media outlet. Or any descriptors.” 

You glance at Carlos over Alex’s shoulder, but the Spaniard has opted to feign disinterest by reading a nearby sports issue. (The magazine is upside down.) With a low tsk of disapproval, you finally give Alex an answer to his question. “Someone from Getty.” 

The heat in Alex’s eyes simmers just the slightest. He gives your cheek a tentative squeeze, and his hand lingers a little too long, like he’s hesitant to pull away. He gets to his feet, though, leaving you seated in his driver room chair. 

He flashes you a smile. It looks a little forced. “Be right back, okay? Don’t have too much fun with Carlos. I’ll know if you talked shit about me.” 

Even the joke sounds weak. 

Alex moves out of the room, his strides determined. He’s just a little hasty, so he ends up leaving the door slightly ajar in his hurry. You open your mouth to comment on it to Carlos, but the two of you freeze at the barking sound of Alex’s voice from somewhere in the motorhome. 

“Get me on the phone with Getty fucking Images!”

You and Carlos share a look. 

“Whew,” Carlos breathes, putting down the magazine. “I have never seen him like that before.” 

“That makes two of us,” you respond, wringing your hands together in your lap.

Alex has been many things— annoyed, critical, upset. Angry is new. Not only to you and Carlos, it seems, as the people of Williams scramble to accommodate the stewing driver. 

By the time Alex has deemed things sorted, he returns with that same plastic smile. Carlos actually excuses himself this time, shooting you a mouthed ‘good luck’ halfway out of the door. 

“Do you want a bandage?” Alex asks you. “Or I can get you checked out, if it hurts.” 

“Alex.” 

“I think there’s actually a first-aid kit here somewhere.” 

“Alex.” 

“I was looking it up earlier, and antiseptic—” 

Your fingers wrap around his wrist. He finally stops, his face flushing a bit. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and you have the impression that he’s not apologizing solely for his rambling.

You squeeze his wrist reassuringly. There’s a lot of things you could do. Tease him for his fretting; ask him why he got so riled up in the first place. In the end, all you can manage is a soft and sincere, “Thank you.” 

Alex’s rage crumples like a house of cards. He lets out a single, shaky exhale and tilts down.

It’s negligible. Barely there. The kiss Alex plants on your forehead is more of a brush of his lips, right over the injury you thought wouldn’t be that big of a deal. 

This, though— the kiss, the anger— it all feels like it should mean something. ⛐

[authorhjk1]

SNSD OT9 reaction of them waking up after sex and finding out their partner is 10+ years younger than them.

Taeyeon

"Oh wow."

Taeyeon groans as she moves a little. The two of you are lying side by side in her bed, the dim morning light starting to warm your faces.

"You really wore me out last night."

She leans over and rests her head on your chest.

"I could've gone the whole night."

Taeyeon scoffs in disbelief.

"I hardly doubt that. You're my age, so you wouldn't be able to go round after round."

"Your age? I'm 26."

Very slowly, Taeyeon lifts her head off your chest.

"What?"

She looks up at you, her eyes wide open.

"You're what?"

"26."

"Holy..."

Taeyeon gets off you and sits straight on the bed.

"Why didn't you tell me before? You're way too young."

"I tried."

You chuckle.

"But if I remember correctly, you told me to shut up and eat your pussy like I mean it."

Shame heats up Taeyeon's body. Her cheeks show a deep shade of pink.

"Did-Did I say that?"

Jessica

"Thank you."

Jessica smiles at you as she takes the hot coffee mug out of your hand. She gives it a taste after blowing at it for a moment.

"Mmm, it's delicious."

"Nothing big."

You sit back down next to her and Jessica let's her head rest against your arm.

"Right. You said you're a barista last night."

"Yeah, I traveled around for about four years while learning it right after school. And now I own my own coffee shop since three years ago."

"Oh, that's so cool."

As Jessica takes another sip, you see her eyebrows furrow.

"Y-You finished school seven years ago?"

"Yeah. When I was 19."

You can tell that she's taking a moment to calculate how old you must be now. Then she does it again. And again. The disbelief marking her face.

"You're 10 years younger than me?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, my god."

Jessica sinks into the sheets, staring up at the ceiling. She doesn't dare to look at you as she realizes she slept with someone 10 years younger than her.

Sunny

You're still asleep when Sunny wakes up. It takes her a while, but eventually she's sitting up, looking out of the window. Her head still hurts from last night's drinking. She glances at her nightstand, looking for a glass of water. Instead, her eyes land on your wallet. Sunny's brows furrow as she hesitates. She doesn't remember much from last night. To avoid any awkwardness, she just wants to take a quick peek at your ID to confirm your name.

When she takes it out, her eyes lock onto your birthday after reading your name.

"10 years?"

Sunny chuckles before putting your wallet back.

"Seems like you got really lucky last night."

She looks at you, your eyes still closed as you continue to sleep next to her.

Tiffany

"Happy birthday, I guess."

Tiffany's gorgeous smile makes you melt, before the two of you engage in a passionate kiss.

Your friends wanted to throw you a birthday party, which started the night before your birthday and was supposed to end after midnight. You met Tiffany at the club during that time and since she lived closer, she took you back to her place.

"How old are you now? You still look kinda young to be over thirty."

You chuckle at her assumption.

"I'm 26 now."

You almost hear Tiffany's heart stop.

"26?"

Her eyes are wide in disbelief, her hand is tugging at her hair.

"Oh my god. How could I sleep with someone this young?"

"You're acting like I'm 18 or something."

"That would be even worse."

Tiffany groans, visibly embarrassed.

"I don't see the problem here. Age doesn't matter. As long as you had fun last night it's fine."

Her cheeks turn pink as she recalls what she did to you last night.

"Oh god...."

Hyoyeon

Hyoyeon wakes up to her phone buzzing again and again. It must be the middle of the day, but you're still sleeping next to her. Half asleep, she reaches for it to check who's blowing up her phone with messages.

"Nice catch, Hyo. He looked like he could go all night."

Hyoyeon groans. Not just because Sooyoung is teasing her, but because she is doing so in the group chat. The other members now know what happened after her and Sooyoung went to the club and why she alone isn't home yet.

"How was he, unnie?"

Yoona attached a winking smiley to her question.

"Oh god."

Hyoyeon sighs in frustration.

"You think they're doing it again in the morning now?"

"Yuri..."

Hyoyeon says through gritted teeth.

"Probably. He looked really young too."

"Did you take care of him like a good noona, unnie?"

Hyoyeon throws her phone onto the bed, after reading Seohyun's daring question. When she glances at you again, she realizes that you do look young. The dim light in the club made it hard to figure out your age, but now that you're face is illuminated by sunlight, Hyoyeon realizes you can't be a day over 26.

A satisfied smile plays around her lips as she leans back again the wall behind her. Despite all the teasing taht is still to come, she knows that she had a really good night.

Yuri

"And what are you gonna do after you wake up?"

You let out a weak groan when you feel Yuri's soft lips against your neck. For the last couple of minutes, after waking up, she has been torturing you by kissing your neck again and again while making you tell her what you're doing today and tomorrow. Now you're starting to talk about your Monday, while Yuri sticks out her tongue and drags it from your collarbone to your cheek, licking your skin along the way.

A shakey breath escapes your lips, before you continue.

"And then I need to go to class."

"Class?"

Yuri asks into your ear, her voice a little higher in surprise.

"Yeah, class."

"Wait, how old are you?"

You swallow hard. You don't want to lie, but you also don't want her to stop kissing you. Eventually, you decide on speaking the truth.

"I'm 26."

For a moment, Yuri doesn't move or say anything. You're scared she's now disgusted by your age difference. But then she gives your ear a teasing little bite before whispering:

"You better do what your professor tells you to do now. Or I'm going to make you fail my class.

You feel Yuri's panty covered pussy rub against your cock. You didn't expect her to suddenly start roleplaying. But you can already feel your cock harden as you think about Yuri being your professor.

"Yes, ma'am."

Sooyoung

Sooyoung wakes up with a massive headache. The sun that shines into the room through the curtains hurts her eyes. When she moves her head, she finds you still sleeping next to her.

"What have I done?"

She murmurs and eventually starts to get off the bed. When the blanket glides off her body, she realizes that she's completely naked.

"Where are my clothes?"

She looks around the room with half open eyes. Her bra and her panties are lying on the table, her top is hanging over the backrest of the chair. Her pants are lying on the floor while her shoes have been thrown into the bathroom.

"What the hell? How much did I drink last night?"

Like a sloth, Sooyoung slowly starts to get dressed. It takes her a while, but eventually she's wearing everything from the night before. Well, almost everything.

"Where is my tie?"

She searches for it, but can't find it anywhere. When she is looking for it on the nightstand on your side, she almost lets out a surprised yelp. Sooyoung's tie is tightly tied around your wrists.

"Oh god."

She groans in disbelief. Staring at your face, small pieces of her memories from last night come back to her. A dumb smile plays around her lips when she remembers how good you felt inside of her. But then, she remembers something else. Something important. She tries to recall it to the best of her abilities. It must have been inside the elevator last night, after you got this hotel room for the two of you.

"I'm twenty six."

Sooyoung's heart stops, her eyes grow wide as the number echoes in her head. Twenty six. Twenty six.

"Oh, fuck this."

She quickly slips out of the room, leaving her tie behind.

Yoona

Yoona yawns as she wakes up, wrapped in silk sheets. Her whole body still tingles from last night's adventures. She lazily rolls around, her face landing in your empty pillow. Yoona can still feel your warmth, despite you not being in the bed anymore. The smell of your cologne brings a smile to her face.

"Mmmh."

She hums, her smile widening as she remembers slowly riding you last night, while her face was buried in your neck.

Yoona opens her eyes again when she hears you coming out of the bathroom. Her gaze lingers on the towel around your hips, before she admires your otherwise naked body. Then she notices the tattoo on your abs.

"What does the 2000 mean, by the way?"

"My birth year."

"You're... 25?"

You nod as you study her face. She's surprised, but not turned off or anything. You catch her biting her lower lip as her eyes trace along the lines of your tattoo on your abs.

"Why don't you get over here and I ride that cock of yours again?"

Seohyun

"What were you celebrating anyway?"

Seohyun's head lies on your shoulder, while she draws circles with her finger on your chest.

"What do you mean?"

You use your hand to play with her hair as you talk.

"Don't you remember? One of your friends shouted 'she must be your gift for today' while the two of us walked out of the club."

You chuckle, slightly embarrassed. But you can't deny that spending the night with Seohyun did feel like a gift from heaven.

"I got my degree in mechanical engineering yesterday. That's why we celebrated."

"Your degree?"

"Yeah, took me a little longer than I had hoped. I wanted to be done when I was 22 but now I'm 25.

"Twenty five?"

Seohyun lifts her head off your shoulder.

"Yeah. I know the beard makes me look a little older."

"Yeah...."

Seohyun seems to think for a moment, so you're surprised when she suddenly straddles you.

"I've always wanted to try this."

You raise an eyebrow as you feel Seohyun reach into your boxers.

"Call me noona."

"What?"

"Call me noona while I ride you. Beg for my pussy while you call me Seohyun noona."