#just to continue the theme of “confusion”

[soluversworld]

MISTER x SHOUJO - Subaru Oogami x G.N Reader part 3

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don’t interact!

Words:

Genre: G.N Reader (Fluff, Angst!)

Summary: You and Geo navigate an unconventional relationship built on misunderstanding, tension, and unexpected moments of connection. After a lie spirals out of control, rumors spread that Geo is your boyfriend, much to the confusion of everyone around you—including Geo himself. Despite his cold and hostile demeanor, Geo reluctantly agrees to play along, but only for his own peace and solitude.

Geo’s sharp, broody personality often leaves you feeling uncertain and overwhelmed. He doesn’t hesitate to criticize you, flick your forehead when you talk back, or scold you for minor mistakes. Yet, he also protects you, whether from prying classmates or persistent admirers, and even takes your hand to make a show of your “relationship” when his friends are watching.

( Reader is a g.n!)-

Trigger Warning: This content contains themes of

Tension-filled dynamics with elements of power imbalance and verbal hostility’s

Rumors and social pressures leading to feelings of alienation and discomfort.

Physical gestures of dominance (e.g., flicking foreheads, pinching).

Underlying themes of unresolved trauma and complex family dynamics

Solivan Brugmanisa

Violence, Blood

EXTRA: He’s a character from a game named The kid at the back!! Note, Been reading a lot of Shoujo mangas why not! Make Geo and reader in such a simple plot!

Me basically to TKATB at this point

It had been a few days since that night. Geo had been close—physically near you in class, walking beside you when schedules aligned—but he hadn’t opened his mouth to speak even once. His presence was there, a silent weight lingering just within reach, yet he felt so far away.

You didn’t question it at first. Maybe this was just how he was. Maybe he didn’t have anything to say. Maybe, deep down, you were scared to push for answers.

But today was different.

Geo wasn’t in class.

That wasn’t normal.

You found yourself frowning, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling creeping into your stomach. It wasn’t like you were worried—Geo was more than capable of handling himself—but still… something felt off.

The whispers in the hallways didn’t help. The absence of his brooding presence was enough to stir murmurs among the students. Even the professors looked surprised to see his usual seat empty.

Finally, during a break, you cornered Crowe near the student council office. He had his usual calm, unreadable expression as he flipped through some documents.

"Where’s Geo?" you asked, trying to keep your tone casual, but the slight tension in your voice betrayed you.

Crowe barely looked up. "Sick."

You blinked. "Sick?"

Crowe nodded, still scanning the papers in his hands. "Yeah. Caught a cold or something."

You frowned. "Someone like him actually gets sick?"

Crowe finally looked at you with a faint smirk. "He’s human, you know. Not some untouchable deity, despite what half the student body believes."

You hesitated, not sure why that answer made your chest feel tight.

"Anyway," Crowe continued, flipping to the next page. "I need to deliver this document to him, but I’m swamped with council work. If you could—"

"What?" you interrupted.

Crowe glanced at you, amusement flickering in his eyes. "You’re his lover, aren’t you? He might actually be happy to see you."

You immediately looked away, feeling a heat rise to your face. "We’re not—"

"You’re close enough," Crowe said, waving off your weak protest. "You’re the best candidate."

You stood there for a moment, gripping the strap of your bag. You could say no. You could let someone else handle it. But before you could find the words to refuse, your own traitorous voice mumbled, "…Okay."

Crowe’s smile widened slightly, like he’d expected that answer all along. He handed you the document, and before you could second-guess yourself, you took it.

Geo’s place wasn’t what you expected.

Despite knowing he was rich, his home wasn’t a grand mansion or some absurd penthouse. It was sleek, modern, and surprisingly quiet. The kind of place that felt detached from the world, just like him.

You stood outside his door, the document in one hand, your other hesitating mid-air as you debated knocking.

Why were you nervous?

It wasn’t like this was some big deal.

Finally, before your overthinking could spiral further, you knocked.

Standing outside Geo’s apartment door, you took a deep breath before knocking.

No answer.

You knocked again, louder this time.

Still nothing.

For a moment, you debated leaving. Maybe Crowe had been messing with you. Maybe Geo was fine, just skipping classes like an arrogant bastard.

But the way Crowe had said, “Geo’s sick”—it lingered in your mind. The guy never got sick, so it felt wrong.

You tried again, this time speaking up.

“It’s me.”

Silence. Then, muffled shuffling from inside.

The door cracked open slightly, and you barely had time to see his face before he grumbled, “How the hell did you get my address?”

Your mouth opened, then closed. You decided against lying. “Crowe gave it to me.”

Geo let out a slow, tired exhale, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes—usually sharp and piercing—looked dull, the dark circles beneath them standing out even more against his pale skin. His hair was slightly messy, strands falling over his forehead, and his hoodie was barely hanging onto his shoulders.

He looked terrible.

And terrifying.

Great combination.

“Fantastic,” he muttered sarcastically. “You did it. You found me. Now go.”

Before you could argue, he turned back into his apartment. But in his tired haze, he miscalculated his steps—his shoulder slammed into the doorpost, making him stagger.

Then, as if the universe decided to humiliate him further, the door itself swung in, slamming into his back as it slowly creaked shut.

Geo let out a weak thud as he crumpled onto the floor.

You stared.

“…Geo?”

No response.

Your stomach dropped, and without thinking, you shoved the door open wider, rushing inside. You crouched beside him, panic creeping into your voice. “Hey—Geo, are you—”

No answer.

Your hands trembled slightly as you touched his shoulder, trying to shake him awake. He was burning up.

Shit.

Muttering a curse, you hooked your arms under his, trying to lift him. He was heavy—which made sense considering he was taller than you, but still. With some effort, you managed to drag him toward his bed, awkwardly maneuvering until he was sprawled across it.

You let out a sigh, standing back and catching your breath. His blanket was half-kicked off, so you grabbed it and pulled it over him.

His breathing was slow but steady. His face, though flushed with fever, was still that same unreadable expression. He looked… weirdly vulnerable like this.

You sat at the edge of the bed, frowning. “Did you take any medicine?”

His eyelids barely lifted. “…No.”

You crossed your arms. “Why?”

He groaned, shifting under the blanket. “I’ll sleep it off. Get out.”

You ignored him, pulling out your phone to search how to make rice porridge. If he wouldn’t take medicine, at least he needed something.

But before you could even start, Geo suddenly pushed himself up and reached for your phone, snatching it right out of your hands.

“No need to butt in,” he muttered, his voice hoarse but still laced with that same cold arrogance.

You blinked at him in disbelief. “Geo, you literally just collapsed—”

“Not your problem,” he cut in, tossing your phone back to you before falling back onto the bed.

You caught your phone with a slight stammer, your mind short-circuiting.

The next day, Geo still didn’t show up to class.

You were done.

Like, completely, mentally, emotionally, physically done.

Fine. He didn’t want your help? Cool. But the stubborn idiot wasn’t even taking care of himself. You didn’t know why it pissed you off so much. Maybe because of how arrogant he was, thinking he could just sleep off a fever like some kind of unbreakable warrior.

Well, guess what? He was broken. You saw him collapse.

And now, like it or not, you were going to fix this mess.

There was just one problem.

You had no idea how to cook.

Like, at all. The last time you tried making instant noodles, you somehow burned the water.

So, there was only one solution left.

You had to ask the one person you hated the most.

Your emo older brother.

You hesitated before calling. It had been a while since you actually reached out to him. Partly because he was an annoying stalker toward someone. Partly because he had this weird way of making you feel like a little kid again. And partly because, well… you just didn’t talk much anymore.

Still, you pressed the call button.

The phone rang a few times before a tired, groggy voice answered.

“Who’s this?”

Oh, right. You never actually gave him your number.

You hesitated, your fingers gripping the phone tighter. For a split second, you considered just hanging up.

Then, in a slightly awkward tone, you said, “…Hey, brother.”

Silence.

Then, a slow, drawn-out sigh. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Yeah.”

More silence.

Then, finally, “Why are you calling?”

You took a deep breath. “I need… a favor.”

That caught his attention. “A favor?” His voice perked up just slightly. “Did hell freeze over?”

You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to hang up right then and there.

“I need some recipes,” you continued. “For someone who has a fever.”

A long pause. Then, suspiciously, “Who?”

You groaned. “None of your business.”

“Hmm.” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “A ‘friend,’ huh?”

You felt your eye twitch.

“Just give me the recipes, Sol.”

Sol hummed in thought. “I could cook it up for you.”

“No.” You shot that down immediately. “Just the recipes.”

Another long pause.

“…Fine,” he finally said. “I’ll text them to you.”

“…Thanks.”

A small chuckle. “Didn’t think you’d ever ask me for help.”

You sighed. “Yeah, well. Desperate times.”

There was a strange pause on his end. Then, in a quieter voice, he said, “Take care.”

You swallowed, caught off guard.

“…You too.”

The call ended.

You stared at your phone for a moment, your chest feeling oddly tight.

Sol was still a weirdo. A stalker to someone else. A mess in his own right.

That's all.

You needed an excuse. A good one. Something solid enough that Geo wouldn’t immediately slam the door in your face again.

So, naturally, you went to Crowe.

The student council president glanced up from his desk when you approached, his sharp eyes laced with curiosity. “Yes?”

You hesitated for a moment before finally blurting, “I need a reason to visit Geo.”

Crowe’s expression barely shifted, but you could tell he was amused. He leaned back in his chair, tilting his head slightly. “Why?”

Not wanting to explain yourself, you quickly scanned the nearest stack of papers on his desk—Geo’s test results. Without thinking, you grabbed them.

“I’ll deliver these,” you announced.

Crowe looked worried Y/n, It's fine-

You ignored him, shoving the documents into your bag. “See ya.”

You turned to leave, Crowe chuckled under his breath. “Both of you are stubborn, I do miss M-, They got a boyfriend now...hm.."

Geo looked like he regretted opening the door the second he saw you.

His feverish aquamarine eyes flickered with annoyance as he grumbled, “How the hell did you get my address again?”

You held up the test results. “Crowe sent me. Thought you’d want these.”

Geo’s tired stare lingered on you, his gaze heavy with skepticism. He exhaled slowly, as if debating whether you were worth dealing with.

Rather than wait for an invitation, you stepped inside.

Behind you, you heard a muffled, “The hell—” but Geo was too exhausted to physically stop you.

His house was immaculate, yet the signs of sickness were obvious. Half-finished water bottles littered the table, crumpled tissues sat on the couch, and there, on his nightstand, was an untouched pack of medicine.

So that’s how it was.

You turned back to him.

He stood stiffly, arms crossed, dressed in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants. His normally sharp features were dulled by exhaustion, lips pale, dark hair slightly unkempt. His fever made his already fair complexion flush slightly, giving him an almost vulnerable look—if not for the constant glare he threw your way.

You sighed. “Go back to bed.”

“I was in bed until you knocked on my door.”

Ignoring him, you stepped forward. He instinctively tried to block you, but you reached out, gripping his shoulders firmly.

Then, without much thought, you pushed him back.

Unfortunately, you underestimated just how stubbornly solid he was.

Which resulted in the both of you tumbling backward.

Straight onto the bed.

You landed on top of him, your hands planted on his chest, his arms half-raised as if debating whether to shove you off.

Silence stretched between you.

Geo’s fevered gaze bore into yours, his lips parting slightly before pressing into a tight line. His grip on your waist was hesitant, like he wasn’t sure whether to push or hold you in place.

His breath was warm against your cheek.

“…Was this necessary?” His voice, though rough, was eerily calm.

Your entire body tensed. “S-Sorry!”

You scrambled off him so fast that you nearly fell again.

As you moved, your bag tipped over, and its contents spilled across his bed—packs of medicine, fever patches, a sports drink, a whole damn arsenal of cold remedies.

Geo stared at the mess. Then at you.

“…Are you trying to drown me in medicine?”

You huffed, brushing off his sarcasm. “You need it.”

He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, exhaling sharply. “I told you—I’m fine.”

“You look awful.”

“That’s just my natural state.”

Your fingers curled into fists. This idiot. This absolute moron.

Geo’s gaze darkened slightly. “What’s your deal?”

“What?”

“You came here, barged in, and now you’re playing doctor.” His fevered stare pinned you in place. “What do you want? You trying to put me in your debt?”

The accusation hit you like a slap.

You blinked at him. “What? No.”

“Then why?” His voice was quiet, but sharp, cutting straight through you.

Why?

You didn’t have an answer.

You had no logical reason.

You just wanted to be here.

“…I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, Geo said nothing.

Then, with a tired sigh, he leaned back against the pillows, muttering, “You’re so fucking annoying.”

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but smile a little.

He didn’t throw you out.

It wasn’t just one message. Or two.

It was ten.

From Sol.

[Sol]: Here. Easy-to-make recipes for someone with a fever. [Sol]: Don’t mess it up. [Sol]: Actually, knowing you, you will. [Sol]: Try not to set anything on fire. [Sol]: …Actually, do you even know how to cook? [Sol]: If not, just tell me, I’ll make something and drop it off. [Sol]: Hello??? [Sol]: Why are you ignoring me? [Sol]: Fine, good luck burning down the kitchen. [Sol]: Call me when you inevitably fail.

You stared at the flood of messages, lips twitching.

No way in hell were you going to admit that Sol was right.

So, instead of just picking one recipe like a normal person, you did the most idiotic thing imaginable.

You made all ten.

The kitchen became a war zone of pots, ingredients, and sheer stubborn determination. Rice porridge, miso soup, some kind of soft omelet dish—each one made with painstaking effort. You tasted everything, ensuring it was at least edible. Surprisingly, nothing tasted bad. Maybe even… okay?

The next morning, you returned to Geo’s place, knocking sharply.

When he opened the door, his feverish eyes flickered in confusion at the sight of you holding an entire tray stacked with food.

“What the fuck?” His voice was hoarse, his confusion genuine. “Are you stupid?”

You ignored the insult and brushed past him, entering his home like you owned the place. You set the tray on his table and turned to him with a proud grin.

“I made food,” you announced.

Geo pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. “Yeah, I can see that.”

You motioned toward the dishes. “Eat.”

Geo rubbed his temples, muttering, “You made way too much. Why the hell—”

“I didn’t care,” you cut in. “I just… wanted to make sure you had options.”

Geo stared at you.

Then at the ridiculous amount of food.

Then back at you.

“…You’re an idiot.”

“You’re welcome.”

He sighed, stepping toward the table. His movements were sluggish, weighed down by exhaustion. Even as he sat down, he barely touched the food, his fingers loosely gripping the chopsticks.

“I’m tired,” he muttered. “I’ll eat later.”

Your eye twitched.

Like hell you were going to let all that effort go to waste.

You picked up a spoonful of porridge and held it up to his mouth. “Then I’ll feed you.”

Geo’s entire body tensed.

Then, like a lightning bolt struck him, he shot up from his chair, snatched the chopsticks, and started eating at a speed you didn’t think was possible for a sick person.

You blinked.

And then, slowly, a giggle escaped your lips.

Geo glared at you, his expression sharp despite the slight flush on his cheeks—whether from fever or embarrassment, you weren’t sure. “Shut up.”

You giggled again, covering your mouth. “Your stupid pride is hilarious.”

Geo scowled, shoving another bite of food into his mouth.

But he kept eating.

And somehow, despite the insults, despite the glares, despite the fever and his sheer stubbornness—

You couldn’t help but feel warm.

Here's your continuation in a rich narrative style:

The quiet hum of the faucet filled the kitchen as you scrubbed the last dish, the warm water running over your fingers. The apartment was eerily silent, except for the occasional soft rustle of blankets from the other room.

Geo had finally fallen asleep.

You exhaled, glancing toward the door leading to his room. The exhaustion on his face earlier had been evident—dark circles under his aquamarine eyes, the way his shoulders sagged just slightly more than usual. He had been running on sheer stubbornness.

At least now, for a little while, he was resting.

Somewhere deep in sleep, Geo’s dream began to take shape.

Snow.

It was always snow.

He stood in a field of white, untouched and pristine, the cold air crisp against his skin. Small figures dotted the landscape—snowmen, uneven and clumsily built, their lopsided heads tilting as if caught mid-thought.

He knew these snowmen.

He had built them before.

The memory surfaced unbidden—tiny hands, gloves too big, laughter ringing in the air as two children shaped mounds of snow into something resembling people.

His people. Your people.

His gaze flickered over the frozen figures. There, in the middle, stood the ones you both had made to look like each other.

But something was wrong.

Yours was collapsed. Fallen to the ground, half-melted, as if abandoned.

Geo stepped forward, reaching out—

But before he could fix it, the dream shattered.

His eyes snapped open.

A soft warmth pressed against his forehead.

He tensed.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming. The dim glow of his bedside lamp illuminated the room, and there you were, leaning over him, fingers lightly touching his forehead as if checking his temperature.

Your expression was focused, careful, unaware that he had woken up.

“…Sorry.”

Your voice broke the silence as you noticed his open eyes. You quickly pulled your hand away. “Did I wake you up?”

Geo blinked, disoriented. His body still felt heavy with fever, his mind sluggish—but there was something else. A lingering sense of unease, a whisper of a feeling he didn’t quite understand.

His voice was rough when he spoke.

“…Were you here the entire time?”

You hesitated. “I… yeah.”

Geo sat up slowly, pressing a hand to his forehead as if trying to make sense of everything. His gaze flickered toward you, sharp but unreadable.

Then, with quiet suspicion, he asked, “What are you trying to get out of this?”

You froze. “What?”

His expression remained guarded, a hint of wariness behind his fever-clouded eyes. “You’re like this—helping, acting nice. You must be after something.”

A heavy pause.

Then, you let out a sigh, rubbing your temples. “Why do you always look at everything that way?”

Geo didn’t answer.

You shook your head. “I didn’t do this because I had to. I did it because I wanted to.”

Your words hung in the air between you.

Geo’s lips parted slightly as if he wanted to argue, but no words came out. His mind raced, trying to place this feeling—the way his stomach twisted at your sincerity, the way his chest ached with something unfamiliar.

You looked at him, your voice softer this time. “You need to stop this.”

Geo swallowed, his throat dry. “Stop what?”

You exhaled, eyes searching his. “Pushing people away.”

Silence.

For once, Geo didn’t have a quick, snide remark.

He just… sat there. Looking at you.

And for the first time, in a long time, he felt something he couldn’t quite define.

You picked up the glass of water from the bedside table, the cool condensation wetting your fingers. Geo was still staring at you, his expression unreadable, fever-glazed eyes watching your every movement as if trying to decipher something.

“Drink this,” you said simply, holding out the glass.

He didn’t move at first, just kept looking at you with that strange, lingering gaze. You sighed, pushing the glass closer. “Geo.”

Finally, he took it, his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting second before he pulled away. He brought the glass to his lips, drinking slowly, deliberately. You watched him, making sure he didn’t do something stupid like refuse halfway.

The tension from earlier still hung in the air, thick and heavy, but you decided to ignore it.

As soon as he finished, you placed the empty glass back on the table and grabbed your bag. “Alright,” you said, standing up. “You should rest. I’ll be going now.”

Geo was silent.

You turned to leave, but just as your hand reached for the door, his voice stopped you.

“…Why?”

You paused, glancing back. “Why what?”

He shifted slightly under the blanket, his aquamarine eyes dark and serious despite the fever’s haze. “Why are you doing this?”

You exhaled, shaking your head. “I already told you.”

“I want to hear it again.”

You rolled your eyes. “Because I wanted to, not because I had to.”

Geo didn’t respond right away. He just kept looking at you like he was trying to unravel something in his head. His lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say more, but then he hesitated, gaze flickering away.

You waited for a moment, but when he didn’t say anything else, you turned back toward the door.

“…Get better soon, Geo.”

The next morning, you found yourself running through the familiar streets, the cold morning air stinging your lungs. You didn’t even think about it—you just ran, feet pounding against the pavement, until you reached Geo’s apartment complex.

Your heart was racing, though you weren’t sure if it was from running or from something else entirely.

As you reached his door, you saw him—already outside, dressed casually in a hoodie and jeans, locking his door.

You skidded to a stop, panting. “What the—? Geo! What are you doing?”

He glanced at you, unimpressed. “Going to the store.”

Your brows furrowed. “The store?” You stepped closer, grabbing his wrist. “You literally had a fever yesterday! You should still be resting!”

He clicked his tongue, trying to pull his arm away, but you tightened your grip and pushed him back inside. “Nope. You’re not going anywhere.”

Geo scowled, but before he could argue, you had already shoved him toward his bed, forcing him to sit. He gave you a glare that could probably kill a lesser person, but you weren’t fazed. You grabbed his wrist, checking his temperature with the back of your hand.

Normal. No more fever.

You let out a sigh of relief, but your hands stayed on him just a second longer than necessary. “You’re better now,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

Geo stayed quiet, watching you with a strange expression. He seemed to be lost in thought, his eyes unreadable as he studied your face.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke.

“…Thank you.”

You froze. “Huh?”

“I said thank you,” he repeated, voice quieter this time, like it physically hurt him to say it.

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. You stared at him, feeling like you had just witnessed something rare—something no one else had ever seen before.

Geo, saying thank you.

The moment felt too surreal.

“I thought you hated this kind of thing,” you finally managed to say.

“I do,” he replied. His gaze flickered away for a second, as if debating whether or not he should keep talking. “…I hate people who go out of their way to show how big their hearts are. People who want to prove something by helping others. Love letters, fake kindness, people who think they’re saints.” His voice darkened. “People like my brother.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden mention of his brother, but before you could ask, he continued.

“…But you’re different.” His eyes met yours again, calmer now. “You didn’t have any ulterior motives. You just did it.” He exhaled, shaking his head. “So, I don’t mind thanking you.”

Your face felt warm.

You swallowed, gripping your hoodie’s sleeves. “You’re acting weird,” you blurted out, trying to lighten the moment. “Maybe your fever isn’t gone.”

You reached up, placing your hand on his forehead without thinking. But before you could even process the warmth of his skin against your palm, Geo’s hand shot up, catching your wrist mid-air.

“I’m fine,” he said. His grip was firm, his touch lingering just a second too long.

You felt heat crawl up your neck.

Panic kicked in. “R-Right! Okay! Uh—” You yanked your wrist back, stumbling over your words. “Then, uh, I’ll just—go! Yeah! Bye!”

And before you could embarrass yourself further, you spun around and bolted out of his apartment.

As you ran down the street, your heart was hammering against your ribs, your face burning.

And then—

“Hahahaha—”

A laugh bubbled out of your throat, uncontrollable, giddy.

You clutched your chest, still breathless from running.

You really, really liked him.

You kept running, but your brain was running even faster.

Why?

Why the hell was my heart beating so fast? To him? Of all people?

You didn’t slow down until you turned the corner, out of sight from his apartment. Then, without thinking, you smacked your own forehead.

"Get a grip!" you hissed to yourself, pacing in a frantic circle. "This is Geo we’re talking about! He’s an asshole! He’s rude, cynical, hates people—"

Your voice trailed off as your heartbeat betrayed you again, thudding against your ribs like a traitor.

You groaned, dragging your hands down your face.

Why did he have to say it like that?

You didn’t have any ulterior motives. You just did it.

That wasn’t something Geo would normally say. He wasn’t the type to acknowledge kindness, let alone thank someone for it.

And that look in his eyes…

You groaned again, this time smacking your forehead against the nearest lamppost.

Maybe you were the one with the fever.

Shaking off the thought, you forced yourself to keep walking, determined to shove whatever this was deep, deep down.

But your fingers still tingled where he had grabbed your wrist.

[quesocheeso]

Heya- so you don't have to answer this ask, but I'm just asking for clarity- :')

You said earlier that your content was 16+ and that those under shouldn't interact with your blog, but also said that those under can like but not repost your art.

I'm just a lil confused about that. Can those under 16 just watch the non suggestive stuff or is the entire blog a strictly no under 16 zone? I'm mainly just asking because I'm 15 and don't want to overstep your boundaries or wanna be disrespectful by continuing to tune in if that's not ok with you (as- this is your blog and therefore your rules)

I guess in a way it’s me giving leeway since I’m not exclusively going to post suggestive stuff, like most of my art is gen stuff, so I’m mainly reinforcing this rule for whenever it involves spicy/suggestive themes which I would like people to not reblog unless they’re above 16+, everything else is free game

So for anyone under you guys can see whatever like I’m not gonna know unless you guys reblog, so there’s no way for me to bar you guys from this kinda stuff, it’s just my belief and boundary that you guys should definitely not be interacting with that kind of stuff

But yeah, the content label for 16+ is mainly what type of content there’s going to be so no one gets jumpscared by suggestive themes thinking the blog is just general stuff

[nishicchikouchi]

LITC is ending in 6 chapters. I HAVE NOT read anything about it, but my fyp is really full of litc content XD so I know that Cirrus is leaving for America. Im gonna wait til this finishes before I read so atleast I know the ending and what I would expect.

[rainbowresurrection]

I ended up reading The Price of the Phoenix and while it didn't make me want to bleach my eyes like Killing Time, I still didn't like it as much as I hoped I would. Don't get me wrong, the homoeroticism was intriguing to me, but the actual writing and storyline itself left me with a headache. I think I get my hopes up with these books, given all of the possibilities that the written word has for Trek, and it inevitably sets me up for disappointment lol

[courtillyy]

hannah :( nooo, u just go away when that man does too ? thats so tragic

[wtfaniii]

oneshot in-ho x reader whos a player not bc of debt but because she was investigating with gi-hun? in-ho falls in love w her and protects her during the games (he knew abt her as he had stalked gi hun and his team duh)

thank u🙏🏻

Just when I read this I had just uploaded a one-shot more or less with that theme of the researcher girl.

I love it, thanks for reading🤎

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Paparazzi

Summary: A private detective that Gi-hun had hired to investigate those games he participated in three years ago, is taken against her will without knowing that a certain man with power and money knew absolutely every detail about her.

Warnings: Just some harassment from this sexy man, violence and inappropriate language. Also, I made a modification to one of the games so that the reader could be with them

Note: Your wishes are my command! Orders will remain open and I will try to respond as soon as possible.

Her job was supposed to be just to do some research, collect names, dates and addresses, but fate had other things in store for she.

—Form lines to advance! It will be harder for the puppet to detect you that way —Gi-hun shouted to the players who were still alive after that massacre.

The girl was shaking uncontrollably. Unfortunately, she hadn't managed to get behind someone and now the doll was in her sights. Her hands didn't stop moving and clearly noticed how one of the weapons from heaven was pointing at her.

—Please... —She whispered shakily, yeah... maybe she was a coward but it's only because survival is not his specialty.

"Player 455" heard one of the guards through his communicator, he aimed directly at the head of the trembling girl but before pulling the trigger he heard the voice of his leader "Don't shoot, let her continue" and without protest he obeyed him order.

In a gilded room, with a huge screen in front of a single sofa and a small table next to it, rested the man who led and maintained order in these games.

Drinking a little more whiskey, In-ho kept his eyes on the screen and with the remote control he focused on player 455, the poor girl was terrified, it was not the first impression he expected from her after having read her entire file.

He had read that she was a great detective, top of her class, she was cunning, intelligent, and had a couple of master's degrees completed, but seeing her afraid of dying almost made him laugh.

It was amazing how being face to face with death changed people.

—Nobody shoot her —he added over the radio without taking his eyes off the screen.

He could see the girl's confusion at seeing thatwas still alive despite moving very slightly.

In-ho knew everything about her, he knew what she was weak on, her strengths, weaknesses, her way of operating, he even knew about that beloved cat she had in his childhood and died of old age.

He had taken the time and dedication to investigate even the smallest details about her, it was the least he could do after almost discovering his identity.

The detective was so close to discovering the entire empire of these games that he had to be her brought together with Gi-hun by force so as not to let her finish the task.

He twisted his lips as the whiskey vanished and the first game, green light, red light, was over.

He didn't want her dead, or at least not for now, until he knew a little more about her, one could almost say that she had the potential to be part of this if she weren't so correct.

He put on his mask and went to the control center.

[...]

Just as she thought, some players approached Gi-hun for advice for the next game, there were only those who believed in his words because some others called him a 'liar'.

Among them was player 001, whose name was claimed to be Young-il. He was no fool, he wouldn't say his real name without being sure how much information she had about all of this.

As night fell in the bedroom everyone was sleeping peacefully, except for the girl who was sitting in the middle of her bed playing with his pillowcase, folding it over and over again and then unfolding it and repeating the same act.

—Are you having trouble sleeping? –001 asked, approaching her, who shifted a little and made room on the bed for him to sit next to her.

—My head works better at night... —She murmured, looking at him and smiling friendly.

He looked down at her hands and how the moved on the pillowcase, her were precise and firm. —You know how to tie good knots.

She had many talents and In-ho knew them all.

Or well, almost all of them.

Her ability to tie excellent knots was developed by her father, who was captain of a fishing boat that she also sailed on from time to time.

They locked gazes again in silence. In-ho considered that long-distance photos were nothing compared to being face to face with her. For two years he had been investigating her, he had sent several guards to follow her closely for one reason only. At first considered her a threat. Her intelligence and curiosity could have unmasked him, but then he started following her out of routine.

Afterwards he just kept his gaze on her out of habit and finally he had her face to face.

—What's wrong? —She asked with a frown as noticed the intense gaze on his person.

—Nothing, you should rest, we must have energy for tomorrow's games.

When he was about to stand up and go to his respective bed but she stopped him by holding his hand. The girl, seeing his inappropriate act and with more confidence than she should have, quickly let him go. —Can we keep talking? Honestly... I'm too distressed to sleep right now.

—Of course...

The two continued to talk about trivial matters for a couple more hours, they tried to keep it low so as not to wake up the other players but every now and then they received an annoying 'shhh' from someone nearby who longed to be able to sleep peacefully.

Until she finally fell asleep with head resting on In-ho's shoulder, he didn't move, instead, he let her sleep and settled down so they could both rest better.

The next day, during the next game, they formed teams of six people.

Once they were all together, along with a pregnant woman named Jun-hee with the number 222, they sat on the floor as ordered and shared the games.

The activity was to play a series of games and each time they won they could advance, all this with their feet tied together.

It would be simple, each one was good at something and that made it easier for them to continue, they were the last players to participate which was good for the girl, so she wouldn't get nervous under the gaze of the other participants and as if heaven conspired in his favor one of the games was about making a rhombus with a rope.

—I did it! —She shouted euphorically showing the perfect rhombus in her hands made with rope and on the first try, the guard made a circle and the voice said "pass"

The others celebrated with her as they advanced, until now they achieved the games at the first opportunity and had plenty of time but when they reached the part where they had to spin a top on the ground Young-il lost his sanity after so many failed attempts.

As she bent down to pick up the top once more and wrap it in the string 001 began to curse and beat himself.

—What the hell is happening to me? I can't do anything right! I'm useless —She looked at him startled every time he hit himself, until she interrupted him by slapping on the left cheek, managing to silence him and making his head turn just a little.

In-ho's fake drama to scare them was going great until this sudden blow happened, he didn't expect it but there he was, looking at her with surprise and astonishment.

—You have to calm down! —She shouted, handing him the already finished top. —Try it again and if we die I swear I'll kill you.

He nodded and took the toy, she used those words to lighten the mood and try to give him confidence (which of course she did) but eyes don't lie and her gaze begged him to do it, she didn't want to die.

Miraculously he managed to spin the top and they moved on to the last game which Gi-hun was about to lose if it hadn't been for In-ho, although the last move was not correct he shouted "he did it" this being a small order camouflaged for the guard to give the affirmative signal.

They didn't know it but at that moment they would have died.

She was ignorant of this, she didn't know that if it weren't for In-ho she would already be dead since "green light, red light"

Unwittingly, In-ho saved her at every opportunity, protecting her life without realizing that perhaps following her had already become more than just a routine.

Little by little she got under him skin, first it was in his mind and now...

[apatheticsunday]

Villainous Woes

AKA "Inspired by that one post where Danny is adopted by a B-rate villain (like Kite-Man) except it's Harley & Poison Ivy and they love their little Eldritch toddler" prompt! And the Batfam side-eyeing the hell out of the women because what was that??

There's just so much potential!!

Maybe Harley's collaborating with Batman and Nightwing to take down Joker, they're in the Batmobile while driving to his potential hideout. Harley's in the front with Batman because, surprise, they're both catty and Harley likes to rib Bruce for dropping out of med school. Meanwhile, he makes snarky comments about her becoming a 'reformed' criminal. And then her phone starts the muffled choir of the Barbie theme song. She's like, "Hi, baby!! Hi, sweetheart!!" Batman and Nightwing then hear, clear as day, this unholy screeching like eighteen kazoos in various pitches.

Harley just laughs and says fondly, "Oh, are you tired, baby?? Mommy will be home soon, honey. " There's more screeching until Harley makes kissy noises at the phone and hangs up. Batman's face is deadpan as ever but Nightwing's face is pale.

"Oh, Danny's just a little tired. He gets grumpy if I don't read him bedtime stories." She shrugs as if to say kids, amirite? and Batman offers a grunt while Nightwing laughs weakly in the back. Once they're back at the Batcave, Dick is like, Bruce, what the hell was that?? A demon baby??

Or the time Poison Ivy is fighting Red Robin and Spoiler!! She's got them tied up with vines, monologuing about that one CEO about to dump 80k gallons of toxic waste into the Gotham Harbor, when Eric Satie's Gymnopedie No. 1 rings out from her pocket. She excuses herself for a moment, but Red Robin and Spoiler can still hear her say softly, "Yes, my love? I see. Of course, sweet boy. I love you as well." Then Ivy hangs up. Turns back to the vigilantes and says, "I apologize. My son is feeling unwell, so we'll continue our conversation at a later time." Batman finds them two hours later talking amongst themselves, did you know Ivy has a son?? Is it Harley and Ivy's son??

And when Selina Kyle comes over for a girls' night, she's met with wine, charcuterie, and a shrieking writhing mass of bright green tentacles.

"Danny's just hangry," Harley assures her. She's got The Thing in her arms and disappears into the kitchen while Ivy's setting up a horror movie on the TV. Sure enough, the screaming petters off. When Harley comes back, there's an actual toddler in her arms - chubby arms and legs intact. Overall, it's an uneventful night. Danny turns into goop at one point but Ivy just scoops him up into a bucket-like cradle. Selina does, however, call Bruce on the way home saying, Harley and Ivy have a goop baby. Yes, Bruce, goop!

Fast-forward maybe 15-18 years and Danny (former Goop Baby) is now in college because both his moms have Doctorate degrees. They empathize the importance of getting a good education, of exploring his academic interests, without being part of the Gotham Rogue gallery. So, he never actually meets any of the Batfam.

But then Danny meets (Robin) Damian, who's attending Gotham-U as a pre-med major. They hit it off! Danny ends up attending a family dinner with Bruce, Selina, Dick, Tim, and Damian. (Maybe Jason, Duke, Steph, Cass, and Babs are busy doing other stuff.) So, Bruce is interrogating conversing with Danny and Danny's like, "Oh! My mom talks about you sometimes."

And Bruce is all cordial, smiling and prompting, "Oh?"

"Yeah, my moms are Dr. Harleen Quinzel and Dr. Pamela Isley."

Tim splutters into his drink as he chokes out, "Goop baby??" (he'd been stalking Bruce when Selina talked about her girl's night) while Dick simultaneously shouts, "Demon baby???" Danny's confused because he's literally never met any of these people? And they're calling him goop and a demon??

(Bruce just feels very, very old. The Goop Baby is all grown up and going to college with his baby? Jesus. Just the thought makes all his joints ache.)

[reidmotif]

Between the Books

Summary: Reader is a librarian at the library Spencer frequents while he's finishing one of his degrees. They find themselves in a precarious situation when everyone's left and they're the last two people there.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: unprotected penetrative sex, oral (f!recieving), fingering (f!recieving), themes of exhibitionism, public sex.

Word Count: 3.9 k

Masterlist

Being observant came naturally to you, almost as if it was a reflex embedded into the core of your nervous system. You’d say “hello” to a new face and as if under command, your eyes would naturally drift to the small pieces of hair on that stranger’s coat. 

Dog? Cat? Freakishly large gerbil? 

Whatever it was, you couldn’t turn it off. And that’s why when Spencer Reid caught your eye, you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to look away. 

And with time, it seemed like his actions mirrored yours.

You’d taken interest in a position at a university library for the summer. The job seemed to be a welcome change of pace from the likes of hectic summer jobs you’d go for typically in the past, a position that would mostly consist of monitoring graduate-level students who were, thankfully, much calmer than their undergrad counterparts.

 For the most part, you were right. Your days were filled with reading in an air-conditioned building, looking up titles of reference books for other students, and of course, the unexpected, yet welcomed, occurrence of Spencer Reid. 

The longer you spent at the library, the more you came to learn more about him. 

Well, as much as you could learn without actually speaking to the man. 

You’d learned his name from the library card he’d brandish when it came time to check out materials. He’d frequent books about Jean-Paul Sarte, Camus, and Nietzsche, opting to stay in the same, well-lit corner by the window every time he visited. While he could come in at any part of the day, he seemed to prefer later hours, when the library would be mostly vacant. His outfits weren’t over-the-top with formality, but he clearly wasn’t in the business of dressing casually.

 You found it attractive, honestly, how put-together he seemed. 

His return-rate on books was freakishly fast, and at one point, you’d assumed he was checking out books to read a certain page or chapter for research, and would then put it back, until you found yourself properly watching him and realized, no, he actually was just reading that fast. He could finish texts that would take almost a year to cover by seasoned professors and scholars in mere hours.

 How? You had no idea. Nevertheless, you desperately wanted to learn- to know him beyond the gazes of a library hall. 

You’d decided to try your luck at speaking to the man, noticing the three books he’d chosen all seemed to have one incredibly common theme amongst their authorship. 

“Existentialist?” You ask, trying to make your tone seem polite but still friendly. 

He blinks, as if he wasn’t expecting to be spoken to, and takes a second, his gaze meeting yours. “Sorry, what?” 

“Existentialist.” You repeat, motioning to the books you were checking out for him.  “Kierkegaard, Dostoevsky, Kafka. Your books seem to share a commonality.” 

He chuckles, realizing the meaning of your words and shakes his head. “No, no. Not an existentialist. I’d like to believe the world is better than what any of them make it out to be.” 

You smile, and nod. “I’d hope so.” Your eyebrows furrow, head tilting slightly. “Why the interest then?” There’s genuine fascination in your tone, and he seems to absolutely thrive off that, his eyes lighting up as you continue the conversation. 

“I’m completing my Masters in Philosophy.” He responds. “We’ve been doing an assignment on existentialism, hence the ridiculous amount of gloom and doom in my reading.”

 There’s a pause, before he cracks a smile, and then asks you, “Romantic?” 

You look at him in confusion. It’s your turn to not get the joke. “Sorry?” 

“Are you a romantic?” He asks. When you retain that confused look on your face, he continues. 

“You’re almost always reading some variation of a romance novel here. So far I’ve counted Austen, Bronte, and I think I saw a copy of Anna Karenina on the counter once.” 

You feel a bit of heat rise to your face, realizing that in his own way, he’d been observing you as well. In a second, the tables were turned, and the lens you often used on others was abruptly focused on you instead. 

“Well, Anna Karenina is hardly a romance, I’d argue.” You say, before nodding. “But, yeah. I guess I’d say I’m a fan of romance in novels.” 

He smiles, shaking his head. “I’m not asking you if you’re a fan of romance in novels, I’m asking you if you’re a romantic.” He says, putting emphasis on the last word, as if that was supposed to provide some grand difference to the statement. 

“Just as much as anyone else, right?” You respond, still a bit puzzled at his insistence on contrasting the syntax of his statement. 

“I see.” He says, nodding, continuing to look at you, as if he was sizing you up. “I’ll have to pick up a copy of Anna Karenina sometime then. See if it’s as much of a love story as I remember.” 

“I think you’ll find it’s absolutely not.” You reply, smiling. “I believe we have a copy of it here, as a matter of fact, if you’re actually interested.” There’s a hint of skepticism in your tone, wondering why he seemed to be taking so much regard to your conversation.

“Of course I’m actually interested. You seem passionate about the subject.” He counters, grinning. 

“I mean- yeah, I am! It’s a pretty misinterpreted book, I think.” You say. There’s a slight moment of silence, before you find yourself saying your next few words. “I’m also surprised you’re interested. I’m not always sure if it’s up everyone’s lane. Lots of people can’t get through it.” 

“I’m sure the least I can do is try.” He says, shrugging. 

You check out the last of his books, placing them in his outstretched hands. “Honestly, I’m even more surprised you noticed. You seem pretty into it in your corner over there.” You say, half-jokingly, but with a hint of seriousness mixed into it. 

He gives a softer smile, almost boyish, as he replies. 

“You’re pretty hard not to notice.” 

He keeps the smile on his face, giving you a slight nod of his head, before leaving you to deal with the sudden heat that had risen to your cheeks as a result of his words. You couldn’t find it in yourself to respond to his quick wit in the moment, your heartbeat still racing long after he’d left. 

Over that summer, the two of you get continually closer. To your absolute delight, he does end up reading Anna Karenina and better yet, he agrees with you. You immediately take an even stronger liking to him than before. Thus starts your tradition of recommending books to each other, the two of you discussing them when he’d come to the library, almost like a secret, private book club that only you two were privy to. 

You come to learn more about him. His doctorates, his job. The secret of his inhumanely fast reading was revealed to you later down the road, when he explained the abilities of an unconscious mind.. or something. While you wanted to give your undivided attention to him, there was an unspoken part of you that couldn’t help but find it ridiculously attractive when he explained things to you. He never seemed to notice that enduring part of your psyche, and you were grateful for that. 

Overall though, he made quite the friend. He shared your love of literature, and could be a wonderful listener at times. Your previous days of solitude in the library were long forgotten, and you found yourself looking forward to his daily visits, ready to share your thoughts on some book he’d last asked you to read. 

You find that his visits become less and less about the actual establishment, and more and more about you, especially when he opts to visit you at the front desk first, as opposed to over at his usual spot by the window. Somedays, he makes it obvious, not even bothering to peruse the selection of books he was previously accustomed to, and merely opts to talk to you the entire time, right up to the point where you’re locking the doors of the library and heading to your own place for the night. 

There’s a part of you that wonders why he hasn’t asked you out. You wonder why you hadn’t asked him out. It only seems natural, given how much time the two of you were spending- a date seemed like an obvious byproduct of the lingering gazes you’d catch him throw at you, the absolute joy that would bubble in your chest everytime the two of you shared an afternoon. 

You shrug it off. All in good time, right? 

It’s another night at the library, and you found yourself a bit frustrated. You’d asked your manager if there was any way she could take on the later shift of the day, increasingly tired with the hours of the job and simply needing a break from it all. She refused, and tonight, that refusal seemed to be on the forefront of your mind. 

“I just- I don’t get it, Spencer. I know she can take on this shift.” You say, wheeling around a cart of books to be reshelved, talking openly since the library was empty at this point in the day, all patrons packed up and soundly at home– while you were stuck here. 

He stayed, of course, following you around diligently as you completed the task, listening to every word.

 “I get that this is the worst shift to have, but come on. I’m a good employee, you know? I feel like I deserve a break here and there.” You come to a stop, picking up a stack of books with a huffy sigh. “But no. I’m the one who has to go home late. I’m the one who’s on closing every single night. I’m sick of it.” 

He nods sympathetically, and you continue to grovel, deeply appreciative that he was allowing you to vent to him like this. You stand on the provided step-stool on the ground, allowing you to have the height necessary to shelve some books that belonged further up than normal. 

“Like, is it really that hard?” You grumble, your face turned away from Spencer as you find each book’s proper place. “God forbid she sleeps at a later time than normal- or I don’t know, hires someone else.” The last book is reshelved, and you turn around, about to dismount the stool. “And another thing-” 

In the midst of your rant, you find yourself distracted,  missing the step on the stool that would’ve allowed a safe dismount, and you quickly realize you’re falling off, letting out a small yelp before a stronger force keeps you upright- a force that happened to be Spencer’s arms catching you. 

“You alright?” He asks with heavy concern, trying to look into your eyes or your legs, attempting to discern for signs where you might’ve hurt yourself on your descent. 

It takes a second for you to process that you are insanely close to Spencer. His features are almost enhanced by the low-lighting of the dark library, his eyes entirely dilated as he stares at you, his lips soft and perfect– and those cheekbones, god. You could practically cut yourself on them. 

You quickly return to your senses, trying to go back to a more suitable position that wouldn’t leave you so absolutely tongue tied. “No, no. I’m fine, honestly.” You step back, wiggling your leg a little. “See? Entirely fine.” 

He smiles a little sheepishly. “Sorry, I just get worried. I’m a doctor, you know.” He says, a teasing quality in his tone as he steps closer. 

“Not an actual doctor.” You say, rolling your eyes fondly. 

“Come on.” He says, letting his hand drift over back to your arm, which had taken most of the shock of falling onto him. “Humor me.” 

There’s that grin again, and you can’t help but relent. 

And so you humor him like he asked, letting his fingertips trail over the skin to properly check for any injuries, the action much more sensual than it should’ve been for a friend checking up on another friend. 

“You know.” He murmurs, his voice a bit lower than before. “I don’t actually think this is the worst shift to take on.” 

Your throat is dry, a physical reaction being drawn out of you as he touches you, and there’s a conscious reminder you actually have to respond to his words. 

“Oh? Why is that?” You force out. 

“It’s so quiet.” He mumbles out, immediately, his fingertips now tracing down to your waist, as the two of you made eye contact. “Nobody’s even in here at this point.” 

You swallow, trying to calm the rapid beat of your heart. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” 

“I like the quiet.” He says, continuing on. The previously feather-like touch on your waist becomes more grasping than anything else. “There’s just so much more you can get done when it’s quiet.” 

You nod and half heartedly mumble. “Mhm.” You’re far more focused on your growing proximity than his actual words, the act rendering you entirely breathless until he’s standing face to face with you, your breaths mingling due to the closeness. 

“I can feel your heart beating.” He mumbles. “So fast. Do I make you nervous?” 

You lick your lips and nod out of instinct, before squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head. “No, no. It’s just the closeness. I’m not used to it.” You whisper, eyes opening– and his gaze is as intense as ever. 

One of his hands goes to cup your face. “Unless you tell me otherwise, I’m going to kiss you now.” 

You don’t move a single muscle. 

And then all of a sudden, he’s everywhere. He’s pulling you closer, absolutely devouring you like he’s been starved for your touch all along. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you respond in approval, humming with a deep content against his lips, your hands going to wrap around his neck, pulling your bodies flush together. You don’t want space– not now, or ever again. 

“Fuck. Wanted this for so long.” He mumbles, as soon as he breaks off the kiss, finding the pulse point on your neck, and going at it with his lips, causing you to quietly moan out in pleasure. You’d never heard him curse before, and the act only served to add to the steadily growing throb in between your legs. 

He pushes you even more insistently up against the counter attached to the bookshelves, your weight slightly more supported by the wood, as opposed to his body like before. 

“You’re so pretty.” He breathes out in between his assault on your neck, his mouth finding every inch of your nape, and marking it as his own. It’s almost like he’s hellbent on mapping out every plane of skin there, committing every spot that makes you whine or let out his name to memory.

You’re breathing so heavily, and you think it can’t possibly get any better than this, but he proves you wrong when he abruptly gets to his knees, your eyes widening. 

“Need to taste you. Please.” 

He’s begging, like, on-his-knees, doe-eyes, broken voice- begging to eat you out. 

And how could you ever say no, what, with those pretty eyes of his, and that expression on his face that made you practically weak with need?  

“Yes.” You whisper out, and in record time, he’s undoing your jeans and underwear in one clean swoop, not even bothering to fully remove the material before his tongue is all over your cunt, lapping up the wetness that had accumulated in the past few minutes. You’re half surprised he didn’t just rip your clothing off, given the enthusiasm he was showing at this moment. 

You’re suddenly incredibly aware of where you are- your place of work, a fucking library, and Spencer Reid was buried in your thighs like a man parched, lapping up wherever he possibly can. You can hear the obscene noises of your passion, his tongue lavishing over you, before he pays special attention to your clit, wrapping his lips around the nub and sucking softly.  You cover your mouth with your free hand- grateful that the wood behind you was supporting you, because without it, you truly think you’d topple over from the sheer pleasure of it all. 

“Fuck.” You whisper, voice high-pitched as you try to hold back your noises. “Fuck. Gonna come.” You warn, legs shaking as you barreled towards your release. 

Without warning, his fingers enter your cunt, and you’re fighting back a scream. 

How long had you stared at his fingers before this? How many times had you watched them run up and down the spines of the books he read, or gestured with them constantly whilst speaking? How long had such a simple part of his body captivated you? 

How many times had you secretly wondered to yourself how they’d feel inside you?

It didn’t matter anymore. You had your answer now. Fucking amazing.

“Spencer!” You whine out, his fingers naturally reaching that soft spot inside that you often struggled to even brush against. His lips find your clit again, sucking softly and you know you’re an absolute goner. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck-” 

Before you can even voice in coherent terms how good this feels, you’re coming, the walls of your cunt spasming around his fingers as he relishes in the reaction, using the tip of his tongue to circle your clit, and slowing his fingers down as you ride out the remnants of your orgasm. He slips the digits out of you as he rises to his knees, and sucks on his fingers, one by one, practically moaning as he tastes your release.

The sight is downright sinful.

“You taste so good.” He whispers, crashing his lips against yours again, and you’re already needy again when you can taste yourself on his tongue. 

His hands drift down to his own slacks, undoing them and pulling his cock out, already dripping with precum. 

“You ready, pretty girl?” He murmurs, guiding his tip to your waiting cunt. You’ve situated yourself on the wood of the desk entirely now, needing the support for what happens next. 

You nod, and without even realizing he was already mostly there, he pushes into you entirely, and your jaw drops. Your head rests against  his shoulder, trying to accustom to feeling of him stretching you out so fucking perfectly. 

How could you ever fuck anyone else again, when he just felt so perfect for you? 

It seemed that he agreed with the sentiment, moaning softly as his free hand steadied himself by gripping onto the shelf. “You feel so fucking good.” He murmurs. “Can I move? Are you okay?” He asks, softly. 

His other hand rubs soothing circles into your hip bone, and you’re nodding, touched by his concern for you, even during such a salacious act. 

His thrusts are slow at first, still allowing you to get used to the feeling of him inside of you, before he’s truly going at it, his thick cock rubbing against your wet walls in a way that makes you feel light and full all at once. It's delectable, and you never want it to end. 

You whine, holding onto his neck, your head thrown back as you take it, feeling the books rattle around you with every hump he deals into you. You can’t even find it in yourself to care– all that matters right now is you, and him, and how fucking amazing it feels when he’s fucking you like this. 

You can feel yourself building towards another pleasurable release, before you hear the telltale click of the library door opening, effectively removing you from the moment. Fuck. The janitor. 

“Spencer, Spencer!” You whisper-shout, biting your lip. His cock doesn’t once slow inside you, and you find it hard to think when it feels that good. 

“We’re gonna be caught!” You whine out, dizzied by how you were simultaneously turned on and utterly panicked. 

“No, we won’t.” He whispers, gruffly. With your hands now around his neck, he lets his hand drop from the shelf and covers your mouth. He leans in even closer, if that’s possible, eyes dark. 

The sight makes a shiver go up your spine. 

“Stay quiet.” He murmurs, as he begins to deal slower, more deliberate thrusts into your cunt. 

“Feel that? Feel how I’m filling you up, nice and slow?” He whispers, the words barely audible, but with how close he’s standing to you, they overtake every one of your senses, and you nod desperately, eyes glistening as you feel yourself dancing on the precipice of release. 

“Shh. I know.” He murmurs. “Come for me, yeah? I know you want to. Show me how much you like my cock inside of you.” 

It's a combination of his tone, of the risk you two were facing, and the sensation of him that has you responding exactly the way he wants, and in an instant, you’re coming with a shuddering breath, holding back a loud whine, just like he asked you to. 

The feeling of your walls spasming has him releasing as well,  a warmth flooding in your deepest point. His head drops into your shoulder as he attempts to muffle his moans the best he can, and you both bask in the afterglow for a second, trying to pant as quietly as you could. 

Spencer immediately springs into action, redressing you with precision and care, guiding your underwear and jeans back up, buttoning them up for you. You’re still in a slight haze from the two orgasms he’d just given you, and when you properly come to, his slacks are back on, and he leans in for a much more chaste kiss. It leaves you with butterflies, despite everything,  and you find yourself smiling softly at him. The fondness reflected in his expression is undeniable.

“Let’s get out of here.” He murmurs, grabbing your hand and guiding you in between the shadows of the shelves, effectively keeping you both from being caught. The janitor remains clueless, as you two sneak out, giggling like teenagers as you find yourselves outside, the summer night warm and cool all at once. 

“That was..” You mumble, laughing a bit, surprised that had even happened. 

“I know. I- uh. Might’ve gotten carried away?” He says. “I usually like to do that after a date. I just-” He steps closer, cupping your cheek. “I couldn’t wait. I hope that’s okay.” He whispers. 

“More than okay.” You whisper back. 

His thumb slowly strokes over the expanse of your cheek, and he bites his lip. “Could we? Date? Try this out?” He murmurs. “I know I didn’t get much of a chance to say it back there, but I really like you.” 

You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you. This man had just been inside you, and now he was blushing and stuttering whilst he attempted to ask you out. 

“Yes.” You nod. “Let’s try this.” 

He’s got the most genuine smile on his face, and a sigh of relief  can be heard as he leans in again to kiss you, and you can’t help the smile on your face as your lips meet his, the elation in both of your bodies absolutely radiating inside and out. 

You recount your first conversation and know now, there was a difference between liking romance, and being a romantic. 

You reckon Spencer Reid could make quite a romantic out of you. 

this is uploading an hour later than i wanted it to :( but whatever. i hope you guys like this one <3 i'm trying something new! not first person pov, but "you" ? pleaseee let me know how this works for you guys! i love experimenting out with new fic methods but if it's clear this isn't working TELL MEEE so i can go back to what did work. anyway, any likes, reblogs, comments are so so so genuinely appreciated. thank you thank you thank you for reading either way <3

[yamujiburo]

Ketchum vs. Ketchum! Showdown in Cerulean City!

Woo! Finale time! I wanted to make this final battle feel special and give it more substance than I could do with just a comic. So! I got the help of @cyberwulf to write out this ending in fanfic form! Check it out here on AO3 if you prefer! If not, the journey continues below the cut~

prev / END

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / [X]

James Sidestory / Meowth Sidestory

A lot has happened since our Poké Moms began their journey. After a rocky start…

“*SQUAWK*”

…they’ve managed to catch some new Pokémon…

“Run! Run! Run!”

…in their own way.

“What a cute baby! You know, I have a son, too!”

With their month on the road almost up, Delia had just one more thing she wanted to do…

“I want to beat the Cerulean City Gym!”

But little did Delia know, there was a surprise waiting for her in Cerulean City!

“MOM??? JESSIE???”

“Let’s have a double battle! You and Ash versus Jessie and I!”

“You’re on! But I’m not going easy on you just cuz you’re family!”

“…What’s going on?”

Poké Mom Adventures

EP009

Ketchum vs Ketchum! Showdown in Cerulean City!

The water of the Cerulean gym battlefield glistened in the sunshine streaming through its crystal glass roof. Both teams gazed at each other with steely determination (and some lingering confusion, in Misty’s case) as above them, the Drone Rotom announced the rules.

“This will be a double battle between Gym Leader Misty and Champion Ash, and the challengers Delia and Jessie.” It projected a holographic image of both teams. “For today’s battle, each trainer may use two Pokémon. The battle is over when all of one team’s Pokémon can no longer battle.”

“All right!” Misty declared. “This is an official League battle for the Cascade badge!”

“And bragging rights!” Jessie added with a smirk.

“We’ll see about that!” Ash retorted. Misty glanced at him, taking in his clenched fists and gritted teeth. She’d seen Ash determined before, but… there was something here that she was missing. However, with the Drone Rotom hovering expectantly overhead, finding out what that something was would have to wait.

“Come out – Corsola!”

The Coral Pokémon landed on the rock in front of her, eagerly crying its name.

“This is a water-themed gym, so I’ll go with a Water-Type,” Ash remarked. “Oshawott, I choose you!”

“That’s the spirit, Ash!” Misty exclaimed. “It’s the job of a Gym Leader to help trainers learn type advantage and weaknesses by specialising in one kind of Pokémon, and around here that’s Water-Types!”

“Water, huh?” Jessie frowned as she considered the three Pokémon she had on hand. “Well, I don’t want my delicate little Ziggy to get her fur wet.” With a flourish, she tossed a Pokéball high in the air. “Go, Venomoth!”

The Poison Moth Pokémon emerged, hovering over the water.

“It’s a shame we don’t have any Grass or Electric-types,” Delia mused. “I guess we’ll just have to do our best with what we have.” Pushing her bangs out of her face, she called, “I choose you!”

Ash and Misty’s jaws dropped as the light from Delia’s Pokéball coalesced into a very large, very stern-looking Kangaskhan.

“I didn’t know your mom had such a strong Pokémon,” Misty whispered.

“Neither did I,” Ash whispered back. Movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention and he looked down at his starter Pokémon. “Something wrong, Pikachu?”

“Pika…”

Pikachu gazed across the water at Kangaskhan, ears and tail up, alert to… something. But before anyone could figure out what had caught his attention, there was a small cry.

“Kangaskhan!”

The baby squirmed, spooked by the glistening water lapping all around the rock. She buried her face in her mother’s belly and cried again. Cradling her young protectively, Kangaskhan gave Delia an apologetic look.

“Oh, of course!” Delia exclaimed. “I’m so sorry. Kangaskhan, return.” Cupping her hands around her mouth, she called across the battlefield. “That doesn’t count as one of my Pokémon, does it?”

“Of course not, Ms. Ketchum!” Misty shouted back. “Please choose another Pokémon!”

“If she’s got one,” Ash said with a confident smirk. “I’m betting she’ll send out Mimey.”

“I choose you… Clefairy!”

“Looks like you bet wrong, Ash,” Misty laughed as Ash stared in surprise at the Fairy Pokémon.

Above them, the Drone Rotom moved into position.

“Begin!”

“All right, Oshawott!” Ash called out. “Open up with an Aqua Jet!”

With a determined cry, Oshawott blasted a jet of water across the field, hitting Clefairy square in the belly and knocking the Fairy Pokémon off the rock and into the water.

“Ash Ketchum!” Delia exclaimed reproachfully. “That wasn’t very nice!”

Thrown off-guard, Ash gulped. “S-sorry!” (Oh man - I can’t believe I’m actually battling my mom!)

On the opposite side of the battlefield, a wet and bedraggled Clefairy clambered back up on the rock ridge, scowling at her attacker.

“Shake it off, Clefairy!” Delia urged as her Pokémon did just that, sending a fine shower of water droplets flying from her pink fur. “Use Disarming Voice!”

With a deep breath, Clefairy shot a vortex of pink hearts towards Oshawott, taking the Sea Otter Pokémon by surprise and knocking him into the water.

“Good work, Deerling!” Jessie shouted triumphantly. “Now it’s my turn!” She pointed at Corsola. “Venomoth, use Poison Sting!”

Venomoth hovered uncertainly for a few moments, then looked back at her.

“It doesn’t look like Venomoth knows that move, honey,” Delia remarked.

“Well, Dustox knew that move!” Jessie protested. “Venomoth should know it too, aren’t they both Bug-types?”

Venomoth just blinked at her.

“You really don’t know what moves your Pokémon knows?” Misty asked incredulously.

“Of course I do, just – just let me think!” Jessie spluttered, clenching her fists. “All right, Venomoth – use Gust!”

Venomoth didn’t move.

“Whirlwind!” Jessie tried. “Psybeam! …Tackle?”

Venomoth looked back and forth between Jessie and the battlefield as it fluttered about agitatedly, utterly confused by the barrage of unfamiliar orders.

“This is just sad,” Misty muttered, getting a nod of agreement from Ash. Raising her voice, she called out, “Corsola! Use Spike Cannon!”

Corsola glowed, and a split second later a shower of glowing white spikes slammed into Venomoth, driving it backwards towards the trainer box.

“Oh, no!” Delia groaned in dismay, wringing her hands. “Maybe we should’ve practiced with our new Pokémon before coming here!”

“We’re not giving up!” Jessie snarled, clenching her fists. “Venomoth! Get back out there!”

With a trill, Venomoth shook off the spikes, and floated towards its opponents again.

“Corsola!” Misty called. “Hit it with another Spike Cannon!”

Corsola began to glow.

“Well don’t just hover there!” Jessie barked out. “It’s about to attack again!” Venomoth looked back at her, and Jessie gestured angrily towards the battlefield. “Just do something! Anything!”

Once more, glowing white spikes shot towards Venomoth. This time, however, Venomoth dove towards the attack, sweeping its wings in front of itself at the last minute. Blue blades of light cut through the barrage of spikes, one hitting Corsola and driving it back.

“That’s Air Slash!” Ash exclaimed.

“Air Slash, eh?” Jessie shot her opponents a triumphant smirk. “Venomoth! Use Air Slash on that pitiful pink Pokémon again!”

“Hang in there, Corsola!” Misty called as her Pokémon was driven back for a second time. “Use Recover!”

“Don’t let it recover, Venomoth!” Jessie yelled. “Air Slash again!”

As her Pokémon geared up for another attack, she noticed Delia gazing at her in rapture.

“You’re so ferocious when you battle, Smoochum,” Delia remarked dreamily. She lowered her voice, waggling her eyebrows. “It’s kinda hot.”

Jessie blushed and giggled. “Baaabe, not in front of the twerps.”

Misty wrinkled her nose in disgust. “…Smoochum?”

“Freak out later, Misty!” Ash yelled. Venomoth was bearing down on Corsola, and the Coral Pokémon didn’t have much left. “Oshawott! Use Hydro Pump on Venomoth to protect Corsola!”

Leaping high into the air, Oshawott sent a powerful jet of water directly at Jessie’s Venomoth. With a cry, the Poison Moth hit the floor between Jessie and Delia, bounced once, and fainted.

“Hey, no fair!” Jessie bellowed, stamping her foot. “I was distracted!” She recalled Venomoth with a scowl. “I ought to ground you for making me look bad!”

“This is really weird,” Misty mumbled.

“You have no idea,” Ash sighed wearily.

“All right, you big blue blob,” Jessie growled to her faithful Patient Pokémon, “get out there and let’s win this thing!”

Saluting, Wobbuffet waddled forward, straight into the water. Jessie pinched the bridge of her nose as Wobbuffet awkwardly clambered up onto the protruding rock.

“Wobbles can’t attack unless he’s attacked first,” Delia murmured to herself. “Oshawott is strong, and Corsola can use Recover to gain back health. That means I’ve got to make this next move count!” She looked to Clefairy, wet and winded but not out of the battle. It was risky, but…

“Clefairy! Use Metronome!”

“Metronome?!” Misty exclaimed as Clefairy began to move her fingers hypnotically back and forth. “Now anything can happen!”

“Hold tight, everybody!” Ash called, just as the Fairy Pokémon’s fingers turned white.

Razor-sharp leaves whipped through the air, striking Oshawott and Corsola. The Grass-Type move was too much for the dual Rock/Water Type, and Corsola collapsed into the water, fainted. Oshawott was driven back against the rock ridge, and Ash held his breath, but the Drone Rotom only counted Corsola out.

“Oshawott! You hanging in there, buddy?”

With a grimace, the Sea Otter Pokémon gave him a determined nod. “Osha!”

“Ha!” Jessie cried triumphantly. “Now we’re even!” She clenched her fists, calling tauntingly across the battlefield. “Who’s next, twerpette? Togepi? Psyduck?”

“She sure is cocky for being down to just Wobbuffet,” Ash muttered.

“Not for long,” Misty replied with a smirk. She plucked her second Pokéball from her hip.

“Go – Gyarados!”

Delia’s eyes widened and Jessie took several steps back as the gigantic Pokémon appeared in the water. It glowered down at both trainers, making Delia swallow hard.

(Now’s not the time to lose my nerve! Gyarados is just a Pokémon like any other. All I have to do is-)

“Hey!” Jessie exclaimed angrily. “No fair using such a powerful Pokémon! What, are Staryu and Starmie at the Pokémon Centre or something?!”

Taken aback, Misty gaped at the former Team Rocket member in disbelief. “Since when do you care about playing fair?”

“Since you decided to use that monstrosity on a first-time trainer!” Jessie retorted with a shake of her fist. “That’s cheating!”

Misty paused, almost second-guessing her choice of Pokémon, when she remembered who she was dealing with. Squaring her shoulders, she shot back, “You’re not a first-time trainer!”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Ash muttered.

“I heard that!” Jessie bawled.

“It’s okay, honey,” Delia murmured, placing her hand on Jessie’s shoulder. “We can beat them. We just need to use strategy!”

“Gyarados!” Misty called out. Jessie may not have been the best trainer, and her track record with him was hit or miss, but Wobbuffet could reflect almost any attack. It might just have been luck, but Clefairy’s Metronome had taken out Corsola and left Oshawott just barely hanging on. There was only one choice of target.

“Use Hurricane on Clefairy, now!”

Rearing back, Gyarados shot a powerful blast of air directly at the Fairy Pokémon, sending her flying back to the trainer box.

“Oh no!” Delia cried. She knelt by her stricken Pokémon’s side, but it was obvious even without Drone Rotom saying so that Clefairy couldn’t continue. “You did a wonderful job, Clefairy.” Recalling her Pokémon, she rose, pushed her bangs out of her eyes, and called her second Pokémon.

“Mimey, I choose you!”

Ash clenched his fists. No more surprises – he knew what Mimey was capable of. Oshawott was tough, but he’d taken a lot of damage. If the Sea Otter Pokémon only had one move left, then Ash had to make it count.

“Oshawott! Hit Mimey with Aqua Jet!”

“Mimey, dodge it!” Delia cried out.

The Barrier Pokémon leapt high in the air, leaving Ash to watch, powerless, as Aqua Jet splashed harmlessly on the ground between his mother and Jessie. But before he could call out another attack –

“Now, Mimey, Focus Punch on Oshawott!”

There was no time for Oshawott to get out of the way. Mimey dove straight down, fist outstretched, and scored a direct hit. Both Pokémon vanished underwater. All four trainers held their breath. After a few seconds, Mimey burst out of the water, effortlessly leaping onto the rock. A moment later Oshawott floated to the surface, fainted.

“Good work, Oshawott,” Ash murmured as he recalled his Pokémon. He turned to Pikachu. “Looks like my mom’s a tougher trainer than I thought. You ready, Pikachu?”

The yellow mouse nodded, one tiny fist raised. “Pika!”

“You be nice to us now, Pikachu!” Delia cheered brightly.

Jessie was less optimistic.

“Babe, this isn’t looking good,” she murmured urgently. “I’ve been beaten by that Pikachu a zillion times! And that Gyarados looks strong. And mean! I don’t know if…”

She trailed off as the other woman took her hands.

“Now you listen to me, Jessie Ketchum.” Delia gazed into her eyes, a look of fierce determination on her face. “A zillion battles. A zillion losses. Against that very Pikachu. And you never gave up. So you’re not gonna give up now! Okay?”

Jessie stared back at her. Time seemed to stand still. Delia’s fingers were warm on her own as her words of encouragement hung in the air.

“Jessie�� Ketchum?”

With the briefest of nods, Delia turned to face their opponents.

“Ash honey, don’t you hold back just because I’m your mom!” she called. “We’re going to give it our all, even if we lose!”

“She’s a lot like you, Ash,” Misty laughed. As Ash tugged the brim of his hat down to hide his blush, she raised her voice and called to the challengers. “You’re doing great, Ms. Ketchum! I’m really impressed by your abilities as a trainer. Now show me you’re worthy of the Cascade badge!”

“Hey!” Jessie yelled indignantly. “What am I, chopped liver?! My Venomoth pushed your Corsola to the brink!”

Misty grimaced. This was all still too strange – Jessie was a good guy? Jessie and Ash’s mom were… partners? She struggled for something positive to say about Jessie’s performance so far.

“Uh – yeah!” she managed. “It was, uh, really great how you figured out that one move.”

Jessie put her hands on her hips. “Ugh, could you sound any more insincere?!”

With a growl of impatience, Ash cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled across the battlefield. “Hey! Are we gonna battle or what?”

“Oh, we’re battling, twerp,” Jessie shot back. “And we’re gonna win!”

Ash grinned. “You ready, Pikachu?” The yellow Pokémon turned to look at his trainer. Ash pointed. “Quick attack!”

“Ha!” Jessie scoffed as Pikachu zigzagged along the rock ridge. “Wobbuffet, use Counter!”

Pikachu leaped forward…

“On Mimey!”

Delia and Jessie gasped as Pikachu pivoted and went straight for the Barrier Pokémon. Taken by surprise, he took the full brunt of the attack, losing his balance and hitting the water.

“A fake out!” Delia exclaimed. She beamed at her son with pride. “That was so smart of you, honey! You had us completely fooled!”

“Baaabe!” Jessie hissed. “I get that you care about him – I do too – but right now he’s the enemy!”

Delia tapped her fist against her head, grinning nervously. “Oh, right!”

“This is hurting my brain,” Misty groaned.

“How do you think I feel?” Ash grumbled.

Delia took a moment to centre herself and assess the situation. Pikachu didn’t have a Type advantage, but his Electric attacks were powerful – not to mention that Mimey was still wet. Of course, using them ran the risk of electrifying the entire battlefield, including Gyarados, but only one Pokémon needed to be left standing in order for that Pokémon’s team to win.

“Mimey!” she commanded. “Use Psychic on Pikachu!”

“Mr Mime!”

Mimey fixed Pikachu with an intense stare, his eyes and hands glowing blue. Blue light enveloped the yellow mouse as he was lifted into the air. Pikachu strained and struggled, but couldn’t break free.

Ash groaned in exasperation.

“Misty, go for Mimey!” he called. “If you weaken him, maybe Pikachu can break free. Plus, he’s a lot stronger than Wobbuffet!”

Misty nodded. “Right!”

“Hey!” Jessie objected. “Just because it’s true doesn’t mean you have to say it!” She shook her fist at them. “I raised you better than that, Ash Ketchum!”

“Wha – ” Ash took a step back, flabbergasted. “You didn’t raise me at all!”

“The heck I didn’t!” Jessie retorted. “Who kept an eye on you while you twerped your way through eight regions, huh?!”

Misty rubbed her temples. The whole situation was giving her a headache.

“Gyarados!”

The Atrocious Pokémon stirred itself and looked her way.

“Use Crunch on Mr. Mime, now!”

“Oh no, not Crunch!” Delia fretted, as Gyarados reared back, a sinister purple aura swirling around its fangs. “That’s a Dark-Type move!”

“Wobbuffet!” Jessie barked. “Get between Mimey and Gyarados and use Counter!”

Saluting, Wobbuffet leaped in front of Mimey, his body outlined in orange light. Crunch hit, hard, and bounced back twice as hard. Both Gyarados and Wobbuffet recoiled from the damage.

“Wobbles!” Delia cried out, as Mimey caught Wobbuffet in his arms.

“Don’t you quit on me now, Wobbuffet!” Jessie shouted.

Wobbuffet saluted weakly as Mimey pushed him back onto his paws. The distraction worked, and Pikachu dropped back to the rock, freed from Psychic.

“Keep the pressure on, Pikachu!” Ash yelled. “Use Iron Tail on Mimey, now!”

“Quick, Mimey!” Delia shouted as Pikachu somersaulted through the air, tail glowing white. “Use Reflect!”

Pikachu hit the invisible barrier and flew backwards, landing in the water.

“Gyarados!” Misty commanded. “Use Crunch again!”

“Mimey, keep using Reflect!” Delia shouted. “Don’t let them in!” She had to think. Poor Wobbles, he didn’t have much left – one more shot from that big Gyarados and that would be it. Not to mention that if Crunch hit Mimey, the battle would be over! She’d completely forgotten Gyarados could learn that move! Oh, maybe she should’ve used Zaggy instead…

Mimey obediently continued to use Reflect as Gyarados and Pikachu attacked from either side. Slowly the invisible barriers began to box them in, till Mimey and Wobbuffet were crowded together on the rock.

“Babe!” Jessie urged. “We have to do something or we’re gonna lose!”

“I know!” Delia groaned. “I just…” She cupped her face in her hands, pulling down on her cheeks. “…I don’t know!”

“Ms Ketchum!”

Delia lifted her head.

“You can’t let us back you into a corner!” Misty called. “Use your environment to find a way out!”

Ash shot her a glare. “Hey, whose side are you on?!”

“It’s my job as a Gym leader to help trainers to learn,” Misty explained with a smile. “Did you forget?”

“You didn’t help me when I battled you for the first time!” Ash replied indignantly, poking his thumb into his chest.

Misty glowered at him.

“That’s because you still owed me a new bike, Ash Ketchum!”

“Aaagh!” Ash placed both hands on his head, tugging his hat down. “Can’t you let that go already? It got repaired, didn’t it?”

While their opponents bickered, Delia had taken Misty’s words to heart.

“Use the environment…” she mused. There was only one place Mimey and Wobbles could go – but first they had to do something about the double attacks coming their way.

“Jessie!” she hissed, beckoning her partner to come closer. “Can you have Wobbles use Counter?”

Jessie looked at Wobbuffet, sweating nervously as he stood behind Mimey. She nodded.

“Okay,” Delia replied. She whispered quickly in the other woman’s ear. Jessie grinned, then straightened up.

“Wobbuffet! Use Counter on both those attacks!”

Without any hesitation, Wobbuffet moved in front of Mimey, body once more enveloped in an orange glow. Crunch and Iron Tail came back double on Gyarados and Pikachu, sending the two flying backwards. Both Pokémon landed hard on the rock, Gyarados almost wrapping around it with the force of the blow.

“On your feet, Pikachu!” Ash called. “It’s not over yet! …Huh?”

He blinked at the empty battlefield. Mimey and Wobbuffet had both disappeared. Ash tensed as he scoured the water for any sign of the enemy Pokémon, but the surface was still settling from the last bout of attacks. The sunlight streaming through the roof didn’t help either – it made the rippling water glitter.

Misty spotted movement a second too late.

“Look out-”

In tandem, Mimey and Wobbuffet burst through the surface, taking up positions either side of Gyarados and Pikachu, trapping their opponents between them.

“Good work, you two!” Delia cheered. She pointed dramatically. “Now, Mimey – use Psychic on both of them!”

Once more, Mimey’s eyes and hands glowed. Both Gyarados and Pikachu rose into the air, enveloped in blue light.

“Great strategy, Ms. Ketchum!” Misty called, earning a dirty look from Ash which she ignored. “There’s no point going for Wobbuffet – he’ll just Counter our attacks again.”

“Right,” Ash agreed. “We’ve gotta take out Mimey!” He raised his voice. “Pikachu!”

Misty did likewise. “Gyarados!”

Delia grinned. “Just as I thought.” She looked at her partner. “Get ready with Mirror Coat!”

Jessie blinked in confusion. “…Huh?”

“Thunderbolt –”

“Hydro Pump –”

“On Mimey!” both young trainers yelled in unison.

“Mimey!” Delia called, just as both Pokémon charged their attacks. “Drop them, use Light Screen and aim at Wobbles!”

“Aim at WHO?!” Jessie exclaimed.

There was no time to explain. Everything turned on a split second. Pikachu and Gyarados began to fall through the air. Several volts of electricity and a powerful torrent of water hit Mimey’s Light Screen and barrelled towards Wobbuffet.

The diabolical beauty of Delia’s devious plan suddenly caught up with Jessie. That pair of pathetic Pokémon were in for a –

“Now, honey!”

Jessie almost fumbled the command.

“M-Mirror Coat!”

Wobbuffet glowed, shrouded in a reflective aura. Everything seemed to slow down. The attacks hit. They bounced back at Mimey. Pikachu and Gyarados fell. Ash’s mouth opened in a silent noooo.

The timing was perfect.

Gyarados and Pikachu fell in front of Mimey, taking the full brunt of Thunderbolt and Hydro Pump, doubled by Mirror Coat. The sheer force of the attacks drove them along the surface of the water, causing huge plumes of water to rise into the air either side of them. The battlefield disappeared in a shroud of surf and spray.

“Pikachu!” Ash cried out.

All four trainers held their breath as the mist began to clear.

Jessie cried out in dismay on seeing Wobbuffet floating belly-up in the water. Ash groaned on spotting Pikachu doing likewise. Draped over the rock, Gyarados lifted its head weakly, then dropped it again.

Delia scanned the water, a smile spreading across her face as Mimey swam to the rock and clambered up, standing tall with a cry of, “Mr. Mime!”

“Wobbuffet, Pikachu, and Gyarados are unable to battle,” the Drone Rotom declared, as Ash sank to his knees. “The winners are the challengers, Delia and Jessie!”

“I… I can’t believe this…” Ash moaned.

“We…” Jessie couldn’t stop staring at the battlefield, Drone Rotom’s words ringing in her ears. “…we won?” She looked to Delia, and the joyful look on her face confirmed it. “We WON!!!”

Delia shrieked as Jessie caught hold of her and lifted her high in the air, doing a twirl before setting her back on her feet and peppering her face with kisses. “Hahahaha!” She turned to their opponents, pulling down on one eyelid while sticking her tongue out. “Suck it, twe – I mean, Ash and Misty! I knew this day would come sooner or later!”

“Jessica, I know you’re happy, but don’t be a bad winner,” Delia chided gently. “Magnanimity in victory goes a long way.”

“But baaaabe!” Jessie whined. “I’ve never had a victory this magnificent before!”

Delia just smiled and gave her a peck on the lips. “I think poor Wobbles wants you,” she remarked, nodding to the battlefield. “We’ll need to get him to a Pokémon Centre with Venomoth and Clefairy.”

Jessie nodded and went to haul Wobbuffet out of the water.

“Come on, you,” she grunted as she dragged the Patient Pokémon back onto dry land. Briefly she removed her cap and wiped the sweat from her brow. Fine, so she couldn’t taunt the twerps any more. Victory still tasted pretty sweet.

In her arms, Wobbuffet stirred and smiled weakly up at her. Jessie couldn’t help but smile back.

“How about that?” she murmured to him. “You’re a winner, Wobbuffet. I bet you can’t wait to tell the others.”

He managed a salute and a quiet “Wobba…” before Jessie recalled him to his Pokéball.

Ash, meanwhile, remained on his knees in the trainer box. “I can’t believe we lost to my mom.”

“You gotta admit, that last strategy was a thing of beauty,” Misty replied with a smile. She’d made her way out to the rock and was cradling Gyarados’s head, absently rubbing its crest. The big Pokémon opened its eyes and let out a quiet rumble. “I guess now we know where you get your battling skills from, champ!”

Stepping out of her sneakers, Delia carefully negotiated the slippery rock and fished Pikachu out of the water. A couple of vigorous rubs from his head to his tail, and the Electric Mouse Pokémon opened his eyes.

“You were great, Pikachu,” Delia murmured. She tickled him under his chin, getting a weak “Chaaa” in response. She made her way back to the side of the battlefield to find Ash, Misty and Jessie waiting. “You were great too, honey.”

Ash managed a smile as she handed Pikachu to him. “Thanks, Mom.” He gasped as he was pulled into a hug.

“That was such a fun battle!” Delia exclaimed. She loosened her hold just enough to look at him. “I can see why you like this so much.”

“Watch out, Ash,” Misty teased. “You might just have a new rival on your hands!”

Ash let out a distressed yelp.

“Oh no, I don’t have time for that,” Delia assured him with a wave of her hand. As Ash sighed with relief, she cupped his cheek and tilted his head up to look at him. “But travelling around this past month and battling with you today… it’s made me feel a little bit closer to you.”

Ash blushed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Aw, Mom,” he mumbled with a grin.

“Ahem.”

Ash and Delia turned to see Misty holding out a Cascade badge.

“This is yours, Ms. Ketchum,” the Gym Leader declared. “You made the battlefield, your Pokémon and their moves work to your advantage. I’m impressed!”

“Oh, you’re too kind, really,” Delia replied, blushing as she accepted the badge. Its blue surface seemed to glitter in the sunlight streaming in from the roof. “I’ll treasure this, always. Thank you.”

“That’s how you win a badge fair and square,” Misty teased, shooting a wink Ash’s way.

The Champion rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

All three turned to see Jessie holding out her hand.

“What about me?” she demanded. “The perfect Pokémon battle partner? Trainer of vicious Venomoth and wild Wobbuffet? Where’s my badge?”

Misty sighed. Jessie had been on the winning team, and she had won a badge fair and square, but the whole situation was still bizarre.

“I’ll give you a badge if you explain what all…” She waved her hand between Jessie and Delia. “…this is about.”

“Delia and I dating,” Jessie scoffed with a shrug. “It’s not that complicated.”

“I got that part,” Misty shot back irritatedly, “I just…” She looked from Jessie, standing with her arms crossed, to Ms. Ketchum, who had one hand on Jessie’s hip, to Ash, who looked like he was hoping the floor would open up and swallow him. “…you know what, never mind.” Reaching into her pocket, she took out a second Cascade badge.

“I can’t believe this is happening, but… you earned this!”

Jessie let out a little cry of joy as Misty put the badge into her hand.

“Oh, Deerling, look how pretty it is!” she gushed. “Do you think maybe we could just get the prettiest Gym badges?”

“I don’t see why not,” Delia replied. “With James to run the restaurant, I can take vacations more often!”

“James is –” Misty glared at Ash, who pulled the brim of his cap down and giggled nervously. “We’re going to the Pokémon Centre and then you’re telling me what’s been going on, Ash Ketchum!”

“Let’s all go to the Pokémon Centre,” Delia suggested. “Our Pokémon battled hard today, they deserve a good rest.”

It wasn’t long before Nurse Joy’s tender care had Venomoth, Corsola, Oshawott, Clefairy, Wobbuffet, Gyarados and Pikachu feeling like their old selves again. Delia squeezed Jessie’s hand, murmuring “that’ll be you one day, Smoochum” as they watched Joy work.

“Well, we should get going,” Delia declared once they had their Pokémon back.

“We were going to stay and have dinner, Ms. Ketchum,” Misty said. She eyed Jessie reluctantly, but made the offer anyway. “…You’re welcome to join us.”

“That’s sweet of you, Misty, but we’ve been away long enough,” Delia replied, to both kids’ relief. “It’s time we headed home. Thank you both so much for such an amazing battle.” She hugged Ash tightly. “Don’t stay away too long, honey.”

“You know I won’t, Mom,” Ash replied, blushing. He shot Misty a grin. “I’ll be home right after I kick Misty’s butt in our rematch!”

“Then I’ll see you soon,” Delia murmured. She let go of her son and gave Misty a quick hug and a wink. “Try not to beat him too badly!”

“Hey!” Ash exclaimed indignantly.

Delia stepped back, joining her girlfriend near the door of the Pokémon Centre. She gave her a look and nodded to both kids. With a sigh, Jessie trudged up to Ash and gave him a stiff hug.

“See you at home, kid,” she mumbled. Letting go, she turned to Misty. “Thanks for the battle and the badge, I guess...?”

The two gazed at each other for a few awkward moments, then Jessie took a step closer, slowly lifting her arms.

“Aah!” Misty hurriedly moved back, holding her hands up in front of her. “I don’t think I’m there yet.”

Jessie dropped her arms with a huge sigh of relief. “Great! Me neither.” She offered her hand instead, and the Gym Leader shook it.

Ash and Misty stepped outside the Pokémon Centre to see them off, their goodbyes ringing in the air as Delia and Jessie got on the road. Jessie slung her arm around her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Happy, babe?”

“Yes and no,” Delia sighed. “I’m sad my journey’s over, but I couldn’t be happier about how it went. I made three wonderful new friends, foiled a nasty poacher, and that battle today –” She clenched her fists in front of her. “ – I never felt so alive! I can’t wait to tell Professor Oak and James and Meowth all about it!” She slipped an arm around Jessie’s waist. “I’m so glad you talked me into this.”

Jessie preened. “Oh it was nothing, babe, I –”

She broke off as Delia took hold of her hands.

“Thank you for making my dreams come true,” the other woman whispered. Jessie’s heart caught in her throat as she saw tears shining in Delia’s eyes. “Not just today, but every day we’re together.”

Jessie smiled, warmth blooming in her chest.

“It’s the least I could do,” she replied. Delia deserved more, so much more, for putting up with her, believing in her, loving her. Not to mention all she’d done for James and Meowth too. Maybe one day –

- but before Jessie could continue the thought, Delia leaned up and pulled her into a tender kiss.

THE END

“Oh, I can’t wait to get home to our nice comfy bed!”

“Ugh, me too. I hate sleeping on the ground.”

“…who said anything about sleeping?”

[brunchable]

Steve Rogers finally gets drunk.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x f!reader Themes: Funny? and CUTE. STEVE BEING CUTE WHILE DRUNK. Summary: Steve got wrecked by Thor's Asgardian Liquor and now he's stumbling under your balcony, reciting Shakepeare's Romeo and Juliet to you. A/N: I stumbled over a prompt that I have long lost now and this was the fruit.

It was a perfectly quiet night, and you were unwinding on your balcony, half lost in thought, when the unmistakable sound of someone quoting Romeo and Juliet—or at least attempting to—echoed from below.

“O, she doth teach the torches to burn... so—hic—bright!”

Rolling your eyes, you assumed it was some drunk wandering the street. But then, in a voice far louder than necessary, the mystery romantic slurred, “It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night... like a rich jewel in... uh... someone’s ear!”

You sighed, trying to ignore it. But then there was a strange thunk against your temple—a small pebble had just bounced off your head.

“Ow!” you hissed, standing and scanning the area, annoyed—until you spotted Steve Rogers, lurching slightly, down below on the sidewalk.

You watched in amazement as he squinted up at you, attempting to focus and swaying on his feet like a flag in a strong breeze. He seemed to be mentally assembling the pieces of a big plan, his face all determination and zero sense. Another pebble tumbled out of his hand as he wobbled, barely avoiding tripping over his own feet in the process.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?” he shouted, looking about as stable as a newborn giraffe on roller skates.

You blinked. “Steve... are you okay?”

Steve flung one arm into the air, as if delivering a grand declaration, nearly toppling backward. “It is the east, and Juliet is the... uhm... Juliet is... Juliet!” He thrust a hand forward, fingers spread wide, as if that added extra meaning. “And you—you—are...”

He paused, visibly struggling, his other hand braced against a streetlamp for support.

“A total mess?” you offered, eyebrows raised.

“A goddess!” he slurred, blinking up at you with the most sincere, lovelorn look you’d ever seen. “A bright angel!” he continued, pulling himself up, trying—and failing—to straighten his posture.

For a moment, he seemed to try and get a grip, but his feet betrayed him, and he ended up doing an awkward spin, arms windmilling, before stabilizing himself.

“Steve, how much have you had to drink?” you asked, starting to laugh despite yourself.

“Only... one cup,” he replied, attempting to measure out what he must’ve thought was a “tiny” amount with his fingers. But the gap between his thumb and forefinger was about the size of a baseball. “Well... one Asgardian... goblet.” He grinned up at you, eyes bright. “A small one!”

You tried to bite back a laugh as Steve clasped his hands over his heart, gazing up at you with tragic romance. “Deny thy father and refuse thy—thy name!” He paused, his forehead wrinkling in concentration. “Wait... did I—did I skip a part?”

“Just a few lines,” you teased. “You also hit me with a rock.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, frowning. He bent down, swayed, and then picked up a handful of pebbles. “Doth my lady forgive me?”

“Steve, don’t you dare throw those at me.”

He looked down at the pebbles in his hand, confused. Then, with an exaggerated wink, he tossed them aside like he’d just disposed of a dangerous weapon. “Not a pebble in sight!” He shot you a triumphant, lopsided smile.

“And why art thou—no, wait—why are you out here, Juliet?”

“I live here, Steve,” you replied, trying to keep a straight face. “You’re the one making a scene.”

But Steve only clasped his heart, looking utterly enchanted. “Oh, fair maiden... would you come down and—uh, wait... no. Would you let down your hair?” He stopped, perplexed. “No, wait, that’s... that’s Rapunzel.” He scratched his head, lost. “Same thing, right?”

With a sigh, you leaned over the balcony railing, looking down at him with a smirk. “Steve, you should probably get home before you accidentally wander into traffic or—”

But he suddenly looked up at you with the most determined expression you’d ever seen, his eyes glassy but oddly focused.

“Doth thou love me?” he cried, one hand raised in a fist of drunken valor. “Say it true, or I shall be...” he paused, struggling, “...a total disaster!”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. “Steve Rogers, get your tipsy Shakespearean self home!”

He beamed up at you, his goofy grin full of pure, unfiltered adoration. “Parting is such sweet... uh...” he faltered. “...sorrow?”

Steve, swaying dramatically, looked up at you with a sudden, steely determination that only a man in his state could manage. “If thou shall not come down… then I… I shall climb up!” He pointed to the fire escape, his face alight with misguided heroism.

“Steve, please don’t—”

But it was too late. He grabbed the bottom rung with a graceless, lurching motion, grinning up at you with sheer triumph. “I’m coming, my fair maiden!”

With all the poise of a baby deer, he hoisted himself up, grunting as he fumbled his way onto the next step. Each rung seemed to be a new, Herculean task as he struggled to stay upright, clutching the railings like his life depended on it. His foot slipped once, making him lurch sideways, but he shot you a reassuring thumbs-up, completely oblivious to the danger.

“Steve! You’re gonna hurt yourself! Seriously, get down!” you called, half horrified, half laughing.

“Fear not, my lady!” he slurred, clinging to the railing and taking a very, very slow step up. “I am... coming for you!”

As he ascended, he attempted another line from the play, fumbling it badly. “Uh… But soft! What... yonder... light and window... um... something?” He shot you a sheepish grin. “Hold on... almost... got it.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of wobbling and mumbling fragments of Shakespeare, he reached your level on the fire escape. He extended a hand dramatically, nearly toppling over in the process, and declared, “I have arrived!”

You laughed, hands on your hips as he wobbled in front of you. “Steve, that was a lot more ‘Romeo in need of a medic’ than ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ You’re absolutely out of it.”

He blinked, swaying as he tried to focus on you. “I came for thee,” he said proudly, managing to stand up straight—though his grip on the railing suggested it was doing most of the work.

Steve, still gripping the railing for dear life, looked at you with a mischievous glint in his glassy eyes.

“Fair Juliet… couldst thou… come a bit closer?” He held out a hand, wiggling his fingers invitingly, his face lit with pure, drunken delight. “I have something… uh… very important to tell thee.”

You arched a skeptical brow. “Steve, I’m pretty sure you can say it from there.”

He squinted, trying to look tragic but only succeeding in looking adorably pouty. “Nay… ‘tis… a secret of the heart,” he slurred, placing a hand over his chest with a lopsided grin. “I must whisper it… so only thou can hear it.”

Rolling your eyes but grinning despite yourself, you leaned a little closer, watching as his gaze flicked from your face to your lips. 

“Alright, Romeo, what’s this ‘secret of the heart?’” you asked, half-expecting him to spout more mangled Shakespeare.

But instead, as soon as you were close enough, Steve leaned forward, his hand sliding around the back of your neck, and he pressed his lips to yours in a soft, surprisingly gentle kiss from across the railing.

Caught off guard, you froze, feeling the warmth of his mouth against yours. Then, with a laugh bubbling up, you pulled back slightly, blinking in shock as he gave you a pleased, slightly dazed smile.

“There it is,” he whispered, eyes twinkling. “My secret… is that thou art… perfect.” His gaze softened, and he gave a dopey smile. “And... very kissable.”

You shook your head, laughing. “Alright, Romeo. That was smooth—but I think it’s time to get you inside before you ‘heroically’ declare your love to the whole neighborhood.”

He grinned, still clutching the railing, looking like he’d just conquered the world. “Only for thee,” he slurred, leaning into your touch as you helped him down, his expression dreamy. “Only... ever for thee.”

Just as you were helping Steve down from the fire escape, a voice floated up from the street below.

“Steve! Where the hell are you?” It was Bucky, sounding frustrated and more than a little exasperated. You could see him pacing the sidewalk, looking around like he was on some kind of ridiculous rescue mission.

Steve’s eyes widened, and he pressed a finger to his lips, eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked at you. 

“Shhh!” he whispered, grinning like a kid playing hide-and-seek. His attempt at silence was immediately betrayed by a giggle that escaped his mouth, and he put both hands over his lips, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Steve, I know you’re around here somewhere! Get down here before you fall off something,” Bucky called out, still searching.

Steve, in a fit of tipsy brilliance, looked at you with a conspiratorial smirk and pointed toward your open window beside the balcony. Without a word, he started squeezing himself through, contorting like he thought he could make himself invisible in the process.

“Steve, what are you doing?” you whispered, half-laughing, as he awkwardly wedged his shoulders into the window, one leg hanging out, struggling like he was trying to sneak into a bank vault. He gestured wildly for you to help, but his clumsy movement only made him even more noticeable.

He leaned forward, eyes wide, and whispered, “Shhh! The enemy approaches!” He stifled another giggle, clearly thinking this was the funniest thing in the world.

Just then, Bucky looked up, and Steve flailed dramatically, accidentally bumping his head against the window frame with a muted “ow,” then snorted, laughing harder. He pressed his finger over his mouth again, hushing you through breathy laughter.

“What the…” Bucky stared, his gaze following Steve’s ridiculous pose as he tried to disappear through your window, half-in and half-out, his other leg kicking as he tried to haul himself through.

“Hey!” Bucky called, hands on his hips. “Rogers, get down here. Right now.”

Steve froze, peeking over the window frame like a deer caught in headlights, then gave you a pleading look, as if you were his partner in crime.

“Shh! The man downstairs… he cannot know I’m here,” Steve slurred dramatically, squinting as if Bucky were some kind of Shakespearean villain.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as Bucky’s eyes narrowed.

“Steve, you’re on the fire escape, not a secret lair. Get down before you fall off and end up in the hospital.”

Steve waved a dismissive hand, a drowsy, lopsided grin on his face. “I’m in safe hands, Bucky! I have my fair maiden to protect me,” he announced proudly, glancing at you with such conviction that you had to stifle your laughter again.

Bucky groaned, his exasperation palpable as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, you’ve got one minute to say goodbye to your ‘fair maiden,’ then you’re coming with me,” he called, crossing his arms.

Steve turned back to you with a goofy grin, still wedged halfway through the window. 

“Didst thou hear that?” he whispered in a loud stage voice, pointing at Bucky. “The villain gives us but one more minute. But it shall be a glorious minute!”

You rolled your eyes, pushing him gently. “Alright, Romeo. Time to head home.”

With one last dramatic sigh, he extracted himself from your window, blew you a clumsy, theatrical kiss, and began his wobbly descent down the fire escape. As Bucky grabbed Steve by the shoulder, trying to steer him down the street, Steve spun around, clutching Bucky’s arm like he was clinging to the last lifeboat on a sinking ship.

“Unhand me, Mercutio!” Steve cried, throwing his other arm up with all the grandeur of a Shakespearean actor. “Thou art but a hindrance to my love! Dost thou not know I’m with Juliet?”

Bucky froze, staring at Steve in complete disbelief. “What did you just call me?” His expression was halfway between horrified and annoyed, eyebrows knitted in utter confusion.

Steve pulled himself up, looking deeply wounded, his hand over his heart. 

“Mercutio!” he slurred dramatically, pointing a shaky finger at Bucky. “You are the friend that doth betray me! I shall not be parted from my love!”

Bucky blinked, visibly trying to process this. “Mercutio? Steve, what the—” He looked up at you, helplessly gesturing at Steve. “I’m Mercutio now?”

Steve waved a dismissive hand. “Alas, yes, for you wouldst steal me away from my Juliet,” he said, glaring with the most intense puppy eyes you’d ever seen.

“Steve, I’m not Mercutio,” Bucky groaned, looking over at you as if hoping you could talk some sense into him. “You are absolutely out of your mind.”

But Steve seemed lost in his own world. He placed a hand over his heart, gazing longingly up at you again. 

“Juliet,” he called to you, his voice full of melodrama. “Mercutio hath come to tear us asunder.”

Bucky’s face scrunched up in pure irritation. “Steve, I’m trying to get you home before you fall flat on your face. You’re gonna thank me in the morning.”

Steve shook his head, looking at Bucky like he was the ultimate betrayer. “Mercutio… thou art a traitor,” he declared, voice wobbling with fake tragedy.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I swear, if you call me Mercutio one more time—”

“Mercutio!” Steve interrupted, leaning against him dramatically. “Wouldst thou poison my love? Dost thou come between us to ruin the most beautiful thing?”

Bucky let out a defeated sigh, looking over at you with an expression that screamed, Help me. “Your ‘Mercutio’ is about to drag you home, Rogers.”

But Steve just shook his head again, mumbling about “betrayal” and “unhand me, knave,” as Bucky steered him away, calling one last time over his shoulder to you, “Fear not, Juliet! I shall return! Mercutio’s treachery shall not prevail!” You stifled a laugh as Bucky, looking thoroughly done with it all, muttered to himself, “Mercutio… unbelievable.” He gave you one final, apologetic look as Steve continued to mumble protests about “Mercutio’s interference,” until they finally disappeared down the street, Bucky still muttering, “I’m not Mercutio.” Tags: @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @strawberrybisou @alyana-luvs-u

[jungwnies]

F1 GRID | proposals

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested) : he surprises you... with a ring.

୨ৎ : genre : romance & fluff ୨ৎ : tws : suggestive themes ୨ৎ : word count : 4586

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : a plead for more fluff, your prayer has been answered!

ʚ・max verstappen

“is it just me, or has max been acting weird lately?” you asked your friend as you absently fiddled with the hem of your jacket in the paddock. max was preparing for qualifying, and despite your effort to focus on the hum of activity around you, your thoughts kept circling back to him.

your friend shot you a curious look. “weird how? do you think he’s hiding something?”

you shrugged, letting out a small laugh to downplay your growing suspicion. “i don’t know… it’s not like he’s being distant or anything. he’s just been—antsy. like he’s waiting for something. it’s weird.”

your friend raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your overthinking. “maybe he is hiding something,” they teased. “or maybe you’re just overanalyzing.”

you huffed out a laugh, but the thought lingered.

later that evening, you met max for dinner at a cozy restaurant tucked away from the usual chaos of race weekends. the two of you had managed to carve out this little slice of normalcy amidst the whirlwind of his career, and you always treasured it.

but tonight, something felt different.

max was his usual self—sweet, attentive, and playful—but there was an edge to him, like he was holding his breath. you’d caught him glancing at you more than usual, his leg bouncing slightly under the table.

you set your glass down and decided to just ask. “alright, max, what’s going on? you’ve been acting—”

before you could finish, the lights in the restaurant suddenly dimmed.

“what the—?” you muttered, looking around in confusion as candles flickered to life on the table.

and then, from the shadows, a few familiar faces emerged—your closest friends, your family, all smiling warmly at you.

your breath caught. “what is happening?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you turned back to max.

but when your eyes met his, he was no longer sitting. he was kneeling.

“max…” you started, your heart pounding as he smiled up at you, his blue eyes shimmering with emotion.

“let me talk before you say anything,” he said with a soft laugh, his voice slightly shaky but full of warmth. “i know i’ve been weird lately—sorry about that. i’ve just been planning this day over and over in my head. i wanted it to be perfect because…”

he took a deep breath, and you saw the slightest tremor in his hands as he held out a small velvet box. “because i love you more than i can put into words. you’ve changed my life in ways i never thought possible, and i can’t imagine spending another moment without you by my side. so…”

he opened the box to reveal a stunning ring, and your eyes blurred with tears. “will you marry me?”

for a moment, all you could do was stare, your hand covering your mouth as you tried to process everything. and then, in true fashion, you couldn’t help but joke through the overwhelming emotion.

“max, get up. you’re embarrassing me!” you said, laughing through your tears.

he laughed too, his cheeks flushing. “let me finish my speech, will you?”

you nodded, still grinning as he continued.

“i’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. you’re my everything. my partner, my best friend, my world. i don’t care if this is embarrassing because i’d embarrass myself a thousand times over if it meant i could call you mine forever.”

his words hit you right in the heart, and by the time he asked again, “so, will you marry me?” you could barely get the words out through your tears.

“yes,” you whispered, then louder, “yes! of course!”

the room erupted into cheers as max stood, slipping the ring onto your finger before pulling you into his arms. he kissed you, softly at first, then with all the love and relief he’d been holding back.

as your friends and family gathered around to congratulate you, max leaned close to whisper in your ear, “i told you i wasn’t being weird for no reason.”

you laughed, leaning your forehead against his. “you’re still a little weird, but i love you anyway.”

and from the way he smiled at you, you knew this was just the beginning of forever.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

“let me take you to italy early,” lewis said, his warm brown eyes fixed on you as he tried to convince you. “we can explore the city together before i have to make my debut with ferrari. just us.”

you hesitated, glancing out the window at the familiar, cozy gray skies of home. “but my home is here, baby,” you murmured, your voice soft. “here in the uk.”

lewis reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “i know,” he said, giving you that boyish smile that always made your heart melt. “but this’ll be different. just one week, before the madness starts again. come on, let me steal you away.”

you sighed, knowing full well that he’d already won you over. “alright,” you relented, a small smile tugging at your lips. “but only because it’s you.”

the trip was nothing short of magical.

lewis took you through the heart of italy, weaving through cobblestone streets and picturesque piazzas, his excitement contagious. he made you try every local delicacy, promising it was “for the full experience,” and insisted on taking candid photos of you when you weren’t looking.

midweek, he brought you to the ferrari factory. his face lit up as he showed you around, the glint in his eyes a mix of pride and anticipation. watching him interact with the team, you couldn’t help but feel a swell of admiration for him, knowing how much this new chapter meant to him.

and then came the last night.

lewis had insisted you get your nails done that morning, though he was unusually cryptic about why. “just trust me,” he said with a wink before leaving you to pamper yourself. when you got back to the hotel, you found a stunning dress laid out on the bed, a handwritten note from him resting on top.

“wear this tonight. no questions. xx lewis”

dressed and ready, you stepped into the car he’d arranged, and after a short drive, you arrived at the most breathtaking spot. the sun was setting, casting a golden glow over a lush hillside. string lights twinkled softly above a blanket spread out on the grass, surrounded by candles. a picnic was perfectly arranged, and standing in the middle of it all was lewis, holding your favorite flowers.

“you look stunning,” he said, his voice low and full of admiration as you approached. he kissed your cheek before leading you to sit.

the evening was perfect—good food, laughter, and stories shared as the world seemed to fade away around you. but as the night settled into a quiet calm, lewis stood and gently pulled you to your feet.

your brows furrowed as you looked at him, but before you could say anything, he was already lowering himself onto one knee.

“lewis…” you whispered, your hand flying to your mouth as he pulled a small box from his pocket.

“i’ve been thinking about how to say this for weeks,” he began, his voice steady but full of emotion. “you’ve been my rock, my partner, my everything. through all the highs and lows, you’ve been there, and i don’t know how i ever got this lucky.

“joining ferrari, starting this new chapter—it’s exciting, but none of it matters without you by my side. you make me better in every way, and all i want is to spend the rest of my life with you, sharing every moment, every adventure, every quiet night.”

tears welled in your eyes as he opened the box, revealing a stunning ring that caught the flicker of the candlelight.

“so,” he said, his smile soft and nervous all at once, “will you marry me?”

for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, overwhelmed with love and disbelief. finally, you managed to nod, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“yes,” you whispered, your voice breaking before you said it again, louder this time. “yes, lewis. of course.”

he slipped the ring onto your finger, standing to pull you into his arms as you laughed through your tears. “i love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

and as you looked out over the beautiful italian countryside, wrapped in his arms, you knew this was the start of something even more incredible than you could’ve ever imagined.

ʚ・george russell

“you know,” you said, laughing as you took another bite of your lunch, “my friends keep saying the craziest thing lately.”

george glanced up from his plate, his blue eyes twinkling with curiosity. “oh? what have they been saying?”

“they keep telling me you’re going to propose to me,” you said, laughing even harder at the thought. “isn’t that wild?”

the laughter caught in your throat when george, mid-bite, choked on his food. his eyes widened slightly as he reached for his water, and you watched him with a raised brow.

“are you okay?” you asked, stifling a laugh.

once he recovered, he looked at you, a little too intently. “i mean… if i were going to propose, would you be mad?”

you tilted your head, smiling softly. “of course not, my love. but you’ve been so busy lately. i know you wouldn’t be planning something like that right now.”

george nodded, his expression unreadable. “right… of course.”

but something in his tone made you pause.

over the next few days, the idea seemed to follow you everywhere. your friends weren’t letting up, either.

“why would he ask you to get your nails done?” one of them asked pointedly.

“and your hair,” another chimed in. “he’s definitely planning something.”

you shook your head, laughing off their theories, though you couldn’t deny the tiniest flicker of curiosity. still, george had been acting a little… shady. subtle, but shady. you chalked it up to his usual busy schedule, brushing off the idea of anything more.

at least, until a few days later.

the beach was stunning, a secluded stretch of soft sand meeting endless waves that shimmered under the setting sun. you’d been surprised when george suggested a quiet getaway, just the two of you. he said it was to relax before the season picked up again, but something about the way he kept fidgeting had your nerves on edge.

as you walked along the shore, the golden light casting an ethereal glow, george suddenly stopped.

“wait,” he said, reaching for your hand.

you turned to him, your brows furrowing slightly. “what’s up?”

he smiled, a nervous but endearing smile, and before you could ask again, he was down on one knee.

your heart stopped.

“george,” you breathed, your voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.

“alright,” he began, grinning up at you. “first off, i have to say, i cannot believe you didn’t catch on. you’re usually much more observant, love.”

your jaw dropped, half in shock and half in amusement. “you’re making fun of me now?”

he laughed, but his expression quickly softened. “i’m serious, though. i’ve been thinking about this moment for a long time. you’re my everything—my partner, my best friend, the person i want to spend every moment with. i love you more than i can put into words, and i can’t imagine life without you.”

tears welled in your eyes as he pulled out a small velvet box, revealing a sparkling ring.

“so,” he said, his voice steady and full of emotion, “will you marry me?”

for a moment, you just stared at him, overwhelmed by the weight of the moment. finally, you nodded, tears streaming down your face. “yes, george. of course, yes!”

he slipped the ring onto your finger before standing and wrapping you in his arms. you laughed, still in disbelief, as he pressed his lips to yours.

“i can’t believe you,” you said between laughs, your head resting against his chest. “you really planned all of this?”

“i did,” he said, smiling down at you. “and i’d do it a hundred times over just to see that look on your face.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

“hermosa, would you like to go out for dinner on friday?” carlos asked, his voice soft as you stood by the mirror, finishing up your nightly routine.

“dinner? on friday?” you repeated, slipping into bed beside him, a smile tugging at your lips. “i’d love to, amor.”

carlos leaned over, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead. “perfecto. the season starts soon, and i want to spend as much time as i can with you before it all gets busy again.”

you smiled, feeling your heart melt a little more—like it always did with him.

the days passed quickly, and soon friday arrived.

carlos, as always, had everything meticulously planned. he’d picked out your outfit—a stunning dress in your favorite color—and, true to his usual thoughtful self, made sure his suit coordinated perfectly. if you wore a red dress, carlos would find a way to incorporate red into his look, whether it was his tie, pocket square, or even the lining of his jacket. it was one of those little things that made him so uniquely him.

“you look breathtaking,” he said as he helped you into the car, his eyes filled with nothing but admiration.

“and you match,” you teased, running your hand along his lapel. “as always.”

he grinned, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “siempre,” he murmured.

dinner was perfect—an intimate table for two at a beautiful restaurant with warm candlelight and soft music in the background. carlos, ever the gentleman, kept his focus entirely on you, listening intently as you talked and making you laugh with his playful jokes.

but as the evening came to an end, something about his energy shifted. he seemed more nervous than usual, though he tried to play it off.

“let’s take a walk,” he suggested as you both stepped outside.

the air was cool, the streetlights casting a golden glow over the cobblestone street. you didn’t think much of it until carlos suddenly stopped in front of the restaurant, turning to face you.

“carlos?” you asked, confused as he reached for your hands.

his dark eyes met yours, filled with an emotion so raw it took your breath away. “hermosa,” he started, his voice a little unsteady. “there’s something i’ve been wanting to say for a long time now.”

before you could process what was happening, he was down on one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket.

gasps and murmurs rose from the small crowd of onlookers nearby, but all you could focus on was him.

“i love you,” carlos said, his voice stronger now, filled with certainty. “i love everything about you—your laugh, your quirks, the way you care so deeply for the people around you. i love how you notice the little things, how you make every day feel special just by being in it. and i want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me.”

tears welled in your eyes as he opened the box, revealing a ring that sparkled even in the dim light.

“will you marry me?” he asked, his gaze never leaving yours.

for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. and then, with a tearful laugh, you nodded.

“yes, carlos,” you whispered, your voice shaky but sure. “of course, yes!”

cheers erupted around you as he slid the ring onto your finger and stood, pulling you into his arms. he kissed you deeply, his smile pressed against your lips.

“you had one choice,” he teased quietly, a playful glint in his eyes.

“and it was the right one,” you replied, grinning through your tears.

as he held you close, you couldn’t help but think about how every little detail he cared about, every thoughtful gesture, every look, and every word all came together to make this moment so perfectly, beautifully carlos.

ʚ・charles leclerc

“ma chérie, you look beautiful,” charles said with a soft smile as he grabbed your hand and spun you gently, making your dress twirl. he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear before planting a playful kiss on your neck. “but you’d look better with it off,” he teased, his voice low and flirtatious.

your jaw dropped in mock offense as you lightly smacked his chest. “charles!” you laughed, shaking your head. “keep it in your pants, baby.”

he laughed, his green eyes sparkling with mischief as he pulled you into his arms. “are you ready to be on the yacht for the first time since we’ve been back in monaco?”

you nodded eagerly, your smile wide. “of course i am. there’s nothing better than being with you on the sea.”

charles smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “je t’aime.”

“i love you too, amore,” you replied softly, leaning into him.

the two of you headed to the yacht, the sun casting a golden glow over the sparkling water. when you arrived, the crew greeted you warmly, and the yacht began to drift away from the dock, leaving monaco’s skyline behind.

charles took your hand, leading you up to the second level. as you stepped onto the deck, you gasped. a beautifully set candlelit table awaited, complete with a chilled bottle of wine and a server standing by. the soft glow of the candles reflected off the water, creating a magical ambiance.

“charles,” you breathed, looking around in awe. “what is this?”

he smiled, his gaze full of adoration. “i thought you deserved to be spoiled, ma chérie. it’s been too long since we’ve had time like this together.”

he pulled out your chair, helping you settle in before taking his own seat across from you.

“charles, this is really beautiful,” you said, your voice full of gratitude.

“anything for you, cherie,” he replied, his accent making the words sound even sweeter.

dinner was perfect, the two of you sharing laughs, stories, and heartfelt conversation. charles seemed especially thoughtful, his gaze lingering on you more than usual.

after the last course, he shifted in his chair, his demeanor becoming more serious yet still soft. “you know,” he began, his tone quieter, “being with you has been the best part of my life. i know i’ve been busy, and sometimes i’m not always there as much as i should be.”

you tilted your head, confused by the sudden shift in conversation. “charles, what’s going on?”

he stood up slowly, reaching into his pocket. your heart began to race as he pulled out a small velvet box, his fingers trembling slightly.

“mon amour,” he said, dropping to one knee in front of you.

your hand flew to your mouth as tears welled in your eyes.

“i’ve thought about this moment every day,” he continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “i love everything about you—your quirks, the little things you do when you think no one is watching, the way you make me feel like the luckiest man alive just by being by my side. i love your flaws, your strengths, all of it. it’s everything i’ve ever wanted in my life, forever.”

your tears spilled over as he opened the box, revealing a dazzling diamond ring that sparkled even in the candlelight.

“i want to spend the rest of my life with you, cherie. will you marry me?”

for a moment, you were too overwhelmed to speak, your emotions taking over. finally, you nodded, laughing through your tears. “yes, charles. yes, of course!”

the smile that broke across his face was brighter than the stars above as he slipped the ring onto your finger. he stood, pulling you into his arms and kissing you deeply, your tears mixing with his own.

“i love you,” he whispered, holding you close as the yacht gently swayed with the waves.

“i love you too,” you replied, your heart full to bursting.

and as you stood there together, the sea stretching endlessly around you, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be—with charles, forever.

ʚ・lando norris

“lando, you’re being so distant. like, what is your issue?” you asked, crossing your arms as you sat in the passenger seat, watching him grip the wheel a little tighter than usual.

“it’s nothing, i promise,” he replied quickly, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

but you couldn’t help the way your mind spiraled. “are you cheating on me?” you blurted out, your voice sharp and accusing.

lando slammed on the brakes, pulling the car over abruptly. he turned to you, his wide eyes filled with disbelief. “cheating on you? are you serious right now?”

“well, then why are you acting so weird!” you fired back, feeling frustration bubble over.

“i’m not cheating on you,” he said firmly. “and stop saying such irrational things before i crash the car!”

you huffed, crossing your arms tighter as he merged back onto the road. the tension hung thick in the air, but there was something about his tone that made you pause—he wasn’t just annoyed; he seemed… nervous.

after a few more silent minutes, the car pulled up to a secluded garden bathed in golden afternoon light. you frowned, glancing around.

“where are we?” you asked, the irritation in your voice softening as you took in the beauty of the place.

lando parked and stepped out, rushing around to open your door. he offered you his hand, and though you hesitated, you took it.

as you stepped into the garden, the feeling in your chest shifted. it was just the two of you—no other people, no distractions. the air was fragrant with blooming flowers, and butterflies flitted lazily in the sunlight.

your stomach fluttered as you glanced at lando, who was unusually quiet. he scratched the back of his neck, his signature nervous tell. that’s when it hit you—this wasn’t just a random outing.

“lando…” you started, your voice softer now.

but before you could finish, he turned to you, his cheeks flushed. “look, i know i’ve been acting weird,” he admitted, running a hand through his messy hair. “and i’m sorry. it’s just… i’ve been planning this for weeks, and i was so nervous i’d mess it up.”

you blinked, your heart pounding as he dropped to one knee, pulling a small box from his jacket pocket.

your hand flew to your mouth as your suspicions were confirmed, and a wave of emotions hit you all at once.

“i love you,” lando began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “more than anything. you’ve been with me through everything—the ups, the downs, the crazy schedules, the late-night arguments about absolutely nothing.” he let out a nervous laugh, and you felt tears well up in your eyes.

“you’ve seen the best and the worst of me, and somehow, you still choose to love me. i don’t want to imagine my life without you in it. so, here i am, asking you to make it official.”

he opened the box, revealing a ring that sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight.

“will you marry me?” he asked, his voice soft, almost vulnerable.

you couldn’t stop the tears from spilling as you nodded. “yes, of course, yes!”

lando let out a breath he’d clearly been holding, slipping the ring onto your finger before standing and pulling you into a tight hug.

“i can’t believe you thought i was cheating on you,” he teased, his playful smirk returning as he kissed your temple.

“well, you were acting suspicious!” you shot back, laughing through your tears.

he chuckled, holding you close. “yeah, because i was scared out of my mind. do you know how hard it is to hide something this big from you? you’re nosy.”

you swatted at him lightly, grinning. “i’m observant.”

“sure you are,” he teased, leaning down to kiss you again.

and in that quiet, magical garden, with the sunlight casting a golden glow around you, everything felt absolutely perfect.

ʚ・oscar piastri

the great barrier reef had always been a dream of yours—a place you’d talked about endlessly. and, being the proud australian that he was, oscar had promised to take you the moment the season ended. true to his word, here you were, surrounded by vibrant coral and schools of colorful fish, the water shimmering like a painting brought to life.

oscar had gone all out, arranging a private guide and setting up everything to ensure the trip was perfect for just the two of you. it felt special, even more magical than you’d imagined.

after a long snorkeling session with the guide, you emerged from the water, still adjusting your snorkel mask as droplets streamed down your face. you caught sight of oscar standing on the sand, waiting for you.

but something was different.

your heart skipped a beat as you noticed him—barefoot, dressed in a loose white button-up and tailored shorts that made him look effortlessly handsome, his usual chill vibe intact. the sun cast a golden glow over the scene, and your breath caught when you realized he wasn’t just standing there.

he was on one knee.

your hands instinctively went to your snorkel mask as if to tear it off, realizing you were standing there in a dripping swimsuit, goggles pushed awkwardly onto your forehead, and hair probably a complete mess.

“wait… what are you doing?” you stammered, feeling your cheeks burn despite the cool ocean breeze.

oscar grinned, his calm demeanor never faltering. “what does it look like i’m doing?” he teased lightly. “just wait—don’t touch the mask. you look perfect.”

“perfect?” you let out a half-hysterical laugh, glancing down at yourself. “oscar, i look ridiculous!”

but he shook his head, his eyes soft and full of adoration. “no, you don’t. you look like you. authentic. beautiful.” he took a deep breath, his fingers curling tightly around a small box in his hand.

“being with you has made my life so much better,” he began, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “you’ve made even the craziest, busiest days feel worth it. and i knew this was where i wanted to do this because it’s so… us. a little chaotic, but amazing.”

tears stung your eyes as the reality of the moment hit you.

“i want to spend my life with you,” oscar continued, his usual calm exterior cracking just enough for you to see the emotion behind his words. “snorkel masks, messy hair, and all. so… will you marry me?”

you couldn’t help but laugh through your tears, nodding fervently. “yes! of course, yes!”

oscar slipped the ring onto your finger before standing and pulling you into his arms, the warmth of his embrace grounding you as you tried to process the whirlwind of emotions.

“you know,” you sniffled, “i can’t believe you proposed to me when i looked like this.”

oscar chuckled, brushing a strand of wet hair from your face. “i wanted it to be real. and let’s be honest, you’d never let me live it down if i’d done something boring or predictable.”

“well, you’re right about that,” you teased, your grin wide as you leaned in to kiss him.

“besides,” he added, his tone playful now, “even with a snorkel mask on, you’re still the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen.”

you rolled your eyes, laughing, but you couldn’t deny that this moment, messy and perfectly imperfect, was so perfectly you two.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[softbabybelle]

make the new fic a series thank

corruption 002. 𓍯𓂃 r ֶָ֢cameron

rafe cameron x shy!reader

𝜗𝜚 summary : you've been avoiding rafe since your shared moment in his bedroom and he's been trying to reach out to you by every means possible. of course he finds you at a fucking glitter party.

𝜗𝜚 words : 2.6k

𝜗𝜚 c!w : drinking, weed, icky men, use of 'slut', violence, swearing, suggestive.

part 1, part 3.

to say you'd been avoiding rafe cameron was putting it very, very lightly.

you hadn't uttered a word of the moment let alone the kiss you'd shared with your best friend's older brother to anybody. much less to sarah. you were sure she'd murder you both before you could finish the sentence.

but you couldn't help it, the kiss had plagued your memory.

it stung when you tried to think of anything else. you were so buzzed, a floaty feeling as your head turned to nothing but pure fuzz. rafe's hands were big and warm, fitting around your waist like a glove and his lips oh so soft. you'd never kissed anyone before him, and you were sure now that you never again wanted to kiss anyone but him.

rafe had a pretty good idea why, though was still slightly confused to your sudden detachment.

he knew you were shy, practically cowering in on yourself when any attention was directed your way. he knew he was pushing you, all but forcing your hand when offering you a blunt and not wasting a minute asking are you sure? before crashing his lips into yours.

though he'd be lying if he said he wasn't growing frustrated with the sudden radio silence.

he walked through the doors of kelce's house. he'd been here a number of times, especially for events just like the one tonight.

rafe had to hand it to him. kelce knew how to throw a house party.

despite the blaring music around him and the glitter that was swarming him, all he could think of was you. he'd tried getting a hold of you on various occasions but it was as if you'd fallen off the map. he wondered why you hadn't visited sarah until he found her in the kitchen, stating that she was off to your house.

meaning you had been avoiding him. hell, you'd been avoiding tannyhill altogether.

"man, my fucking eyes." rafe actually had to hold a hand to his eyes when he took sight of topper. kelce had been trying this new thing where he added a 'theme' to each of his houseparty's. tonight's theme was glitter.

topper's face was decorated in gold glitter, swarming through the golden locks of his hair and dripping onto his white shirt. "where's your glitter?"

an annoyed squint was all he offered. "i'm not putting that shit on me."

"kelce isn't gonna be happy. we're supposed to be supporting this whole 'theme' thing." rafe rolled his eyes as topper spoke. they moved through the house, making their way to the living room where most the party was.

kelce's house was huge and the kook's sure as hell filled it.

"dude." the sight of kelce filled his vision. he was seated on the couch, his arm strewn across the back, around some girl rafe didn't care to know the name of. "where's your glitter?"

but his words fell on deaf ears.

rafe's eyes were too busy travelling across the room, landing on you.

you weren't sitting on the couch with your friends or the chairs behind you. you were seated on the carpet, hands playing with a dainty bracelet that you often wore on your wrist. rafe wondered for a moment were you messing with it to soothe the anxiety he knew was bubbling in you. you didn't often come to things like these.

you were dressed in a white, almost silverish dress with two thin straps winding around your shoulders. he swore you never showed so much skin in public, usually a cardigan drawn over you.

pink glitter dusted your hair and he could see it faintly tracing your skin along with your eyelids and your nails painted the same glittery pink.

he was almost getting sick of the glitter everywhere, but you seemed to be changing his mind on the matter.

the chatter continued through the room and they quickly turned their attention away from rafe. you, however, couldn't seem to. you felt your cheeks heat up at the mere sight of him.

how could you ever look him in the eyes again? especially after that night. you'd been so desperate, asking him with a please to kiss you. you'd rutted your hips subconsciously against him, all doey eyed and all but begging for his lips. you'd never done such a thing, acted such a way. you were sure you could never face him ever again after it.

but rafe only took that as a challenge.

you watched as he walked towards you, plopping onto the free armchair you'd chosen to sit next to. like this, he could have fooled himself into thinking you were sitting pretty on your knees for him.

"hey, sweetheart." his tone was a soft greeting, lips playing into a quirk.

a squeaked out "hi." was his response before you whipped your head away from him, turning red in the face. the colour of your cheeks almost matched the glitter in your hair.

"leave her alone." sarah was dressed in a shimmery gold dress, almost the same shape as yours. it was apparent that you'd been matching. yet she also found a way to match with her boyfriend, same golden glitter decorating her face as his did. "she doesn't need you following her around like a dog."

rafe rolled his eyes, watching his sister blow out the smoke from a blunt and pass it off to her boyfriend. it appeared as though two blunts were going around the circle gathered in the middle of the living room. most people at the party were off doing their own thing. they wouldn't dare join.

"it's―it's okay, sarah." your meek words caused sarah's brows to furrow while rafe's face only went slack, a smirk filled with pride falling across his lips.

you didn't often speak up to sarah.

but you did, for him. perhaps it was just a quiet argument, nothing extreme. but to rafe? well he thought you ought to gain a reward.

"y/n?" your eyes snapped across the room to a boy on the couch. rafe believed his name was max, dark hair and dark eyes, shorter than himself. "you want a pull?"

a breathy giggle passed your lips as your cheeks turned pink for a reason nobody but rafe knew. "no, thank you." was your gentle response.

good girl rafe uttered in his head.

as if on cue, your eyes glanced up at him where he sat on the armchair. he gave you the smallest of nods, one not perceptible to anyone but you.

and you knew as you squirmed on your knees that you'd done the right thing.

"please." a huffed laugh fell from sarah. "y/n would have to be possessed by satan himself before she'd touch weed."

again, your eyes flickered back to rafe, this time more hesitantly.

he had this amused look on his face, as if he could read you so well. and he could. perhaps that was the scary part. these people surrounding you, they'd known you for forever. sarah was your best friend, you were closer with nobody else in the world, you told her all your filthy secrets and she shared all of hers.

but rafe... it was rafe who seemed to know you the most out of everyone in the entire room.

he was aware of your filthy little secret, not sarah.

she was completely naive to you sitting in her brothers room, atop his lap, glazed over eyes as you begged him over and over again to kiss you, a blunt being passed between you two.

a shaky breath left your lips and you stood. "'m gonna go get a drink."

"there's juice in the fridge!" kelce called after you, knowing you wouldn't actually dare drink any of the other beverages he had to offer. alcohol simply wasn't your 'scene'.

apparently weed was.

you didn't actually make it to the kitchen, though. rafe stopped you in the hallway before you could, his large hand coming to wrap around your upper arm.

skin on skin.

your head felt suddenly floaty. "shit." he let go of your arm once you were backed against the wall, swallowing thickly. "there's fuckin' glitter everywhere." wiping his hands against his jeans, coating it with pink glitter.

you frowned at his words. "'s on theme." you mumbled.

you were acutely aware of how trapped you were, between the wall and rafe's towering body. you never realised how tall he was until he was so close to you. "why are you avoiding me, huh?"

you couldn't look at him. you couldn't be this close. you couldn't. you couldn't. you couldn't.

all you could think of was his hands on your waist, his lips on your own. you could have let out a whimper at the mere flashback. "'m not."

"don't give me that shit, princess." his two fingers hooked under your chin, forcing your eyes to look up at him. this is when you panicked, eyes turning wide as saucers, top lip biting your bottom, as much as he'd told you to stop beforehand. "what, you're gone all shy 'cause you knew you wanted me to fuck you, is that it?"

for the first time, words slipped so easily from you. "rafe!" hands reached up, trying to cover his mouth.

you should've known better than that, though.

his hand swiftly grabbed your wrist, pushing it downwards. you were sure it'd leave a mark by morning. in a strange way, you hoped it did. a mark of his fingers digging into your skin. like his touch would still be there by the time you woke in your bed.

"scared people'll hear, huh? scared they won't think you're the good girl you're pretendin' to be?" he tilted his head gauging your reactions. "asked you a question, angel."

his grip tightened on your wrist and you couldn't help but whimper out, "yes." aware of the many bodies surrounding you, anyone could have easily spotted you two.

perhaps that was the upside to kelce inviting every single person to have ever lived on figure eight to his house parties. they were a bunch of nobodies. they didn't know you and you didn't know them. they didn't matter. what mattered was rafe, standing right in front of you, bending down lower so his lips could reach your ear.

"worried what they think, huh? 'n 'm the only one in this whole fuckin' house who knows who you are." suddenly his fingers softened against your chin, rough hold loosening while his fingers traced gently across your cheek. "so worried about what they think of you. y'can still be my good girl, yeah?"

you swore then and there that rafe had ripped every pretty thought that had ever developed in your head.

you were totally and utterly dumb.

and all you could offer him was a haste nod.

"y/n?" rafe allowed his hands to fall away from your skin at the sound of your name being called. you blinked, trying to come back to reality after rafe had messed you up completely. you were met with the sight of max, looking dangerously between the two of you. "he bothering you?"

you looked up at rafe in confusion while the blonde boy merely made a scowl at max. "wh―no, no he's not bothering me." your voice was sickly sweet, innocence radiating off it.

you didn't understand max's intentions.

that was why you were safe with rafe, who would make sure no man ever got to act on such thoughts.

none but himself. of course.

"come outside 'n smoke a blunt with me, then, yeah?" once again, your brows furrowed at his words. you didn't really know max all that well, just that he was a newfound friend of topper's. he moved to the outerbanks not too long ago.

"dude, are you deaf?" it was rafe who responded, instinctively standing out further than you, almost as if he were shielding you from the boy. "she said no, what―five fuckin' minutes ago?"

max's eyes squinted. "listen, with all due respect, wasn't fucking talking to you."

rafe's lips quirked upwards, tongue digging into his cheek. you looked nervously between the boys. "yeah, well you're talkin' to me now. fuck off 'n find someone else to go smoke a blunt with, yeah?"

"think i'll take this one, actually." you felt the boy reach out for you, grabbing your upper arm and dragging you forward. you stumbled as he did so, his grip made from seemingly iron.

rafe's face dropped almost instantly. his eyes glared at the hand that held you. his eyes flickered up to your face, head bent, nervously biting your bottom lip while your face contorted into a kind of stinging pain. "get your fucking hands off of her."

"yeah?" max suddenly pulled you closer, hitting your back against his chest. your eyes went wide as they looked for rafe's. you wouldn't admit it aloud, but sudden white hot fear filled your chest. "or what?"

a breathy chuckle left rafe's lips as he nodded to himself. it was almost as if he were mulling a thought over. it didn't take him long to decide.

max didn't get to let out another word before rafe was throwing a punch across his face, knocking the breath out of him.

the boy stumbled backwards, shouting out a swear and clutching his face. you felt rafe's hands immediately win you back, pulling you closer to him as your breath picked up. your eyes glanced around the house, a hundred eyes suddenly all looking at you. you didn't like this. you didn't like any of this at all. and it was all your fault.

"rafe." you practically whimpered out, hand tugging at his sleeve. you could feel tears welling in your waterline. "please, let's just g―"

"take her." max was wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand. "don't fucking want the slut anyw―"

it was safe to say that max didn't get to finish his sentence because before you could do anything to stop it, rafe was discarding you. he was practically on top of max within a blink of an eye.

you called out for rafe, begging him to stop.

you didn't want any of this, and it was all your fault.

panic filled you and suddenly there was too much air in your lungs. you felt wet hot tears against your cheeks and you tried getting rafe to stop but too many people were surrounding you now, enclosing in on you.

people knew you were shy. you didn't like meeting new people or talking in groups.

but it went so much deeper than that.

the people surrounding you made your head fuzzy. the loud noises of screaming and yelling, some telling him to stop, some egging him on further. it was all beginning to get too much and you couldn't feel yourself breathe.

you only allowed yourself to leave out a breath when topper and kelce came running through the crowd, pushing people apart to get to rafe. they all but pulled the blonde boy off of max, kelce holding him by his chest and telling him to relax.

you couldn't actually hear anything, you could just see lips moving.

everything was a blur.

rafe was yelling back at kelce, half explaining-half shouting past him to max.

he didn't stop until his gaze reached your watery eyes.

"rafe!" you could hear sarah yelling from beside you. "what the fuck is wrong with you?"

you wanted to stay to help the boy. oh you did dearly. he'd done so much for you already. but you were a coward and the panic in your chest, the frosty fear in your stomach. it wasn't going to simmer away while you stared at rafe, hands all bloody and knuckles split.

so you turned.

and you ran from it. from all of it. from him.

[fluffylino]

serpent hybrid hyunjin 2 🌱🐍

his venom doesn't have the effects to kill you, instead you find your body craving for him...and his eggs

@seo--changbin gave me brainrot

reblogging > liking

part 1

-contains mature themes (idk wtf possessed me while thinking of breeding and monster cocks aaaa)

its been a while since changbin's come over to your apartment. the rabbit hybrid had grown buffer. stronger, with his muscles quite literally bulging from his armsleeves.

hyunjin and him being the best of friends. an unusual friendship between a serpent and his prey.

lithe and tall versus buff and small.

you couldn't help but ogle at bin's wide upper body, sipping on some tea while you listened to their conversation.

it only lasts for a few minutes, and you stare at hyunjin. taking in the sight of your boyfriend. his scales shining under the light. the newly grown scales on his collarbones giving him a sleeker appearance.

you gulped, watching his long slender tail swish around mindlessly on the floor. eyes wandering to the way he sat on the couch.

legs parted and maybe...just maybe you could see the outline of his length. well his 'lengths'. mentally slapping yourself as you tried to look away.

"hyun...need your help" you say, already going to the kitchen. smiling at changbin. hearing hyunjin saunter into the other room without even questioning why you were calling him there.

"you look too handsome. kiss me."

grabbing his collar, pulling him down to kiss you. a surprised noise leaving him but he laughs. giving you a firm kiss.

"should we buy some pizza for dinn-"

you cut him off, with another kiss. looping your arms around his neck to jump on him. he holds you up, groaning at the sudden eagerness.

firmly squeezing your thighs. pulling away to press a palm over your mouth.

"whats up with you?" he cocks an eyebrow. truly confused with your behaviour.

you bring your hands up to touch his lips. poking his canines. they had grown longer, much sharper.

"not now. later." he lets out. and you feel your mind shut off with how sternly he warns you. whining into his neck.

its only when bin leaves that you realise why you're feeling so desperate.

were you ovulating?

was it just him being hot?

a part of you wondered if it was because he playfully bit you in the morning?

"come here." hyunjin calls out after an hour. finding you sprawled out on the bed with no thoughts in your brain.

standing at the edge of the bed, with his hands on his hips.

"i think you made me horny..." you mumble, staring at the ceiling. lower abdomen burning with want.

he hisses softly.

"this is not normal horny...this is horny on another level..."

glancing at him and you close your thighs. panties soaked. every part of your body screaming for him.

"is it cause i bit you?" hyunjin asks.

his tail wrapping around your ankle casually. and he pulls you closer to him. the display of strength leaving you breathless.

"you're a black mamba. shouldn't i die if you inject me with venom?" you whisper, unconciously spreading your legs apart.

watching as his eyes go down to your panties. the shirt you had on was his.

"so you're saying my venom is actually a 'fuck me please' aphrosidiac ?" hyunjin lets out, letting his finger prod over your panties. feeling how wet you were getting.

"hyun....give it to me"

"give what to you, baby?"

"give me it all"

"what all do you mean, sweetheart?"

"your babies...your e-eggs"

and hyunjin chokes on his spit. the grip his tail has on your leg tightens. watching you with a sharp gaze. tongue peeking out every few seconds . tasting the air.

"god, whats wrong with you" and he pulls you closer.

using the tip of his tail to push your panties to the side. hissing at how you're practically dripping. a mess between your thighs.

"h-hyunjinnn"

"mh?" tail slipping and sliding against your slit. bumping into your clit. chuckling at the way your legs close around it. but he continues poking at your cunt.

"hyunjin!" you whine, awkwardly trying to grind onto his appendage. gasping when he forces your legs apart.

the same musky smell filling the room. his tongue growing longer, fangs peeking through.

"fuck. my heat's creeping up on me" he groans, dropping his head down to exhale heavily. his scales appearing more bolder.

"your smell...you smell fucking delicious" and you whimper. watching as he tastes the air, eyes closing.

"are you gonna eat me mister snake?" you tease nervously. squeaking at the expression he makes.

obviously turned on with you acting so hopeless.

a predator and his prey.

.

.

.

writhing at the mere slide of his girth against your insides. bumps on his length hooking onto your walls.

forcing him to thrust into you with short movements. gripping your thighs with clawed fingers. leaving his marks on your body.

"yeah? i don't usually fuck my prey before eating them whole" the serpent grunts.

a long hiss slipping past his lips. throwing his head back at the feeling of your cunt pulling him in. squeezing his dicks and coating them with arousal.

"h-hyun" you cry, body overheating with how much you wanted. this wasn't enough. you needed to feel him in your cervix.

this wasn't how you'd act. was it really his venom?

"shhh~" as he sits on his haunches. fucking into you harder. his pupils turning into pretty slits. taking in the sight of your body reacting so well to him.

shivering when he places a claw on your breastbone. gently sliding it down to where your uterus would be. and he draws slow circles over the skin.

"want me here, don't you~" and you nod aggressively, not expecting him to slide his finger lower.

placing the pad of his calloused finger over your clit gently. his thrusts having you slide up on the bed and back down.

"you'll take my eggs like a good mate would, won't you, my precious.."

gathering your slick and pinching at your swollen bundle of nerves.

grinning lazily when you let out a little scream. squirming at his tortorous teasing. cooeing as you beg for him.

hands flying down to weakly hold onto his wrist. but he's strong and only flicks your clit meanly.

.

.

.

to say its a weird sensation is an understatement. his hand intertwined with yours, calming you down as one of his dick throbs.

stuffed so deep inside you that when you feel the first egg, its another sensation of fullness.

filling you with more cum while he pumps another into you. maybe soft shelled eggs weren't that bad.

the third egg, however makes you whine at the stretch. a tinge of discomfort.

gasping at how his tail seems to have a mind of its own. wrapping around your ankle and quite literally spreading your legs apart. hooking your left leg over his shoulder.

"m'here. f-fuck taking me so well" hyunjin praises. pressing down on your lower abdomen. revellling in the way you keep it in.

"no venom for you next time" he chuckles, and you breath heavily. overwhelmed with everything. body buzzing with pure pleasure and satisfaction.

"m-more" you tease. laughing at how his eyes widen. going back to normal.

"MORE?!"

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

plz i love snakie hyunnie so much. its an obsession at this point. soft serpent hyunnie drabble coming soon hopefullyyyy

[rafesangelita]

rafe + predator/prey with bambi?

warnings: dark!rafe (he’s nice at first), bratty behavior, dom/sub themes, slight arguing, shouting, manhandling, fear play, rafe chases you around tanneyhill, hide and seek, oral (m. receiving), face fucking, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, rough sex, hair pulling, choking, overstimulation, slapping, impact play (?), asphyxiation, lots of dirty talk, squirting, size kink, breeding kink, baby trapping threats, degradation

link: read more of bambi!reader here <3

w/c: 2.2k

rafe knew the second you slammed the door shut in his face that you had forgotten your place. all the soft, sappy sex you two had been indulging in had officially altered your brain chemistry into thinking you could lock him out of his room in his own house. “open this door, y/n.” rafe hadn’t raised his voice at you in a long time, and while he didn’t want to, it wasn’t long before he felt his patience running thin as you continued to ignore him and give him the silent treatment. you stood on the other side of the door, a pout gracing your lips as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“i’m trying to sort this out with you, baby, but you’re making that really hard for me right now..” rafe spoke gently, his fists balling up at his sides. “you know.. the last thing i wanna come home to when i’ve had a rough day is an attitude and a temper tantrum.” he attempted to twist the door knob, your heart beating in your ears when it started rattling against the hardwood. “i’ve been so good with you, i think you’ve forgotten just how fast things can change, bambi.” his words sending a shiver down your spine.

of course you didn’t want to be on his bad side, but something about the way his voice dropped a few octaves as if he was giving you a warning made you step closer to the door. “open it or i’ll do it myself.” for a moment there, you almost did as he said, your hand reaching down for the door knob before you heard him whisper something underneath his breath. “fuckin’ brat.” you froze just as your fingers grazed the cold metal. he wasn’t going to like what you did next. taking a step back, you shuddered as you watched the shadow of his feet. “n-no.” you whimpered, your heart beating in your chest.

rafe laughed, his jaw ticking as he felt anger boiling underneath his skin. “what was that? what did you say?” surely he wasn’t hearing right. “i said no, rafe!” you yelled back, running to the corner of his room that was furthest from the door. that did it. rafe said goodbye to any kind of restraint he had left, deciding you were going to learn your lesson about saying that little two-lettered word to him. rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, rafe let out a breath before backing away. “are you near the door?” your eyebrows knitted in confusion at his question. “no—”

before you could say anything else, rafe barged in, knocking the hardwood off of its hinges as your hands shot up to cover your ears. you stared at him doe eyed and terrified, his eyes finding yours as he rolled his shoulders back. “i didn’t want to do that..” he stalked over to you, wrapping a hand around your throat before pressing you against the wall, “why do you have to make me be the bad guy, huh?” you gasped, clasping a palm around his wrist. “please— i’m sorry!” rafe stared you down, his eyes nothing but two black holes as his grip around your throat tightened.

“are you? it seemed like you just wanted to piss me off back there,” he dragged you towards his bed, throwing you down before pinning your elbows to the mattress and slotting himself between your thighs, “that goddamn silent treatment, you know i can’t stand that shit.” his face was centimeters away, his breath fanning your cheek as tears welled in your eyes. “you know what i have to do now, right?” you shook your head, fear bubbling in your chest as you remembered the last time he had to ‘punish’ you. “please! i’ll be good, rafe! ‘don’t want to make you mad anymore..”

closing the distance between you two, rafe kissed you softly, wiping away the stray tear that managed to roll down your cheek. “i’m gonna give you a ten second head start to run, and if you decide to hide instead, you better make sure i don’t fuckin’ find you,” he whispered against your lips, “now, get the fuck outta here.” rafe moved aside, your chest rising and falling as you slipped out of the room, your feet skittering across the floor as you started running away from him. you swore your heart was beating a million times per second, the fear of being caught making your blood run cold.

you had barely made it to the bottom of the stairs before you looked up and saw rafe making his way out of the room. he was far too fast for you to outrun him, panic setting in as you started scouring through the halls of tanneyhill. coincidentally, all of the rooms were locked. rafe must’ve did that when you first mouthed off to him, having known how this night would end. “please, please, please!” you struggled trying to open the door to each room only to fall short when the knobs didn’t even budge. “come on..” you whined, rounding the corner of the hallway.

“you look so pretty when you’re scared.” you spun around on your heels, a half scream leaving your lips as rafe started jogging down the long hallway. running across the kitchen, and into the living room, rafe’s laughter echoed throughout the house as he chased you around the couch. “you’re gonna fuckin’ get it.” as a last resort attempt to throw him off, you grabbed one of the pillows from the sofa and threw it at him so you could run up the stairs. just as he caught it, he tripped over his own feet before you made your way into his study, crawling underneath his desk.

clamping a hand over your mouth, you panted softly through your nose as rafe’s footsteps sounded up the staircase. “so you decided to hide after all, huh?” your heart was slamming against your ribcage as he got closer. “i was really hoping you didn’t do that.” he almost sounded apologetic as he stepped into the room next door. you removed your hand from your mouth, fiddling with the ‘R’ pendant on your necklace. “if i get my hands on you.. god, you might just hate me.” just as it sounded like he walked past the room you were in, your heart dropped to your stomach when the door suddenly opened.

rafe walked around, stopping right in front the desk. “one of my favorite things about you is your perfume. it’s so sweet, it’s almost like you leave a trail behind you everywhere you go..” you didn’t even get to react before he was pulling you out by your feet, your screams echoing in his ears. “you make it so easy, baby, it’s like you wanted to be caught.” he pulled you up by your arms, dragging you out of the study and back to his bedroom. he forced you down on your knees, grabbing ahold of your chin as he fumbled with his belt.

“wanna talk back when i’m being nice to you? fine. i’ll just put your mouth to better use.” he said through gritted teeth. clasping your hands behind your back, you gazed up at him through your eyelashes. “listen to me when i say this, yeah?” he slipped his thumb between your lips, “right now you’re not my pretty little girlfriend, alright? you’re a slut.” your skirt rode up your thighs as you spread your legs, sitting back on your heels while you waited for rafe to stuff your throat full. upon his cock springing out of his pants, you whimpered pathetically at the butterflies fluttering in your tummy.

he stroked himself, a groan leaving his lips as he tapped his hardened cock against your tongue. “open that mouth, baby, you know how i like it.” you licked the tip, wrapping your lips around the throbbing head as he threaded his fingers in your hair. “i work all day, deal with my dad’s shit, fuck— all just to come home to that bratty behavior of yours..” he cursed under his breath as you took him deeper into your mouth. “ungrateful sluts like you deserve to be used like this.” you moaned around his length, your eyes widening when he hit the back of your throat.

“oh, my god,” rafe’s jaw went slack, his head tilting to the side as he watched you take him in and out of those pretty lips of yours. “look at me, give me those eyes.” you pulled away for a moment, gasping for air as you flashed your teary orbs at him. rafe didn’t know the logic behind it, but seeing you cry, so drunk off of his cock, he swore it was the hottest thing he’s ever seen. “holy, fuck!” he smiled down at you, his hips stuttering as you took him inch by glorious inch. “my greedy little cock whore, ‘doing so good for me.” you batted your eyes innocently, the action making him hiss.

“i wish you were good all the time, now i have to hurt you, bambi.” he pulled you up, lifting you off of the ground before slamming you down on the bed. you gasped at the impact, your boyfriend sliding your bottoms off before giving you a light smack across your cheek. “you’re so wet down here, baby. shit, you’re just glistening.” rafe tore your thighs apart, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off as you ran a foot down his toned stomach. he pinned your thighs to your chest, his hands resting on the back of your knees. “you want this?” he ran his cock between your folds.

your eyes fluttered shut, his tip grazing your needy clit. “please give it to me. ‘wanna be good for you again!” you cried, a sob ripping itself from your throat as he thrusted into you without warning. “fuck!” rafe covered your mouth, ripping your top off so he could watch your tits bounce underneath him. the slick sound of your cunt filled the space of rafe’s room, your cheeks heating as you listened to yourself make a mess on his cock. “so fuckin’ tight, you’re pulling me back in,” he groaned, “i might just fill you up, ‘trap you with my baby..” you moaned, unintentionally clenching around him.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he pulled your hair, forcing you to look down at where you two were connected. you moaned, your lips parting as you watched him pull out and slowly slide back in. “this cock looks like it’s splitting you wide open,” he brought a hand down and started rubbing hard circles on your clit, “my pretty little thing.” you cried out, your back arching off of the mattress when you felt the familiar tension building in your core. his hand was damn near the size of your head, your eyes rolling back as his cock kissed your cervix with every thrust. “gonna.. oh, my god!”

rafe groaned when your orgasm hit you, a piercing scream leaving your lips as a stream of wetness soaked his lower abdomen. you laid there shaking, your nails raking down rafe’s chest as you sucked him in impossibly tighter. taking his bottom lip between his teeth, rafe didn’t slow down the work on your sensitive bundle of nerves, overstimulation setting in when you started taking the pleasure with the pain. “no more!” you gasped, your thighs closing around his waist as you attempted to squirm away from his touch. he slapped you across your cheek, forcing you to keep your eyes open.

“you’re gonna fuckin’ take it. this is what you wanted when you decided to act the way you were acting earlier, huh? shut the fuck up and take this cock.” he shoved your head into the pillows, the entirety of his palm covering your face as he chased his own high, ignoring your screams and cries. rafe watched the tears flow down your cheeks, his fingers becoming wet as he groaned at the sight. “keep crying for me and i’m gonna breed this fuckin’ cunt— ah fuckkk!” rafe leaned down, pressing wet kisses to your neck before his hips stuttered, his mouth falling open in a silent moan.

“fuckin’ hell!” he uncovered your face, admiring the pretty curve of your lips while he came, those gorgeous eyes just twinkling up at him while he filled you to the brim with his seed. rafe nestled himself deep inside of you, stilling his movements as you two reveled in the feeling of his cum painting the softness of your walls. looking into his eyes, you could see the exact moment he switched into being your boyfriend again, his gaze softening as he cupped your face, his cock still twitching inside of you. pulling out with a curse, rafe was quick to pull you against his chest.

“you okay, bambi?” he pecked your cheek, rubbing a hand against your side as you blinked, still unable to form thoughts as your body occasionally jolted with the aftershocks of your orgasm. you didn’t answer, instead you snuggled into his skin, your eyes shutting as sleep pulled at your lids. you were going to be so sore tomorrow, your muscles already aching as rafe pulled the comforter over the two of you.

[ohmybueckers]

mad at me - paige bueckers x reader

Summary: After a bad game, you tell Paige to take her frustrations out on you, an offer she gladly accepts

Themes/Warnings: angry sex (safe words are present), orgasm denial, overstimulation, degradation, etc.

Word Count: 4k

Note: i genuinely don't know what came over me guys i swear i don't just write smut lmfaooooo. anyways here's a result of me being bored and angry and also to celebrate the triple digit win today, enjoy!!

There was something you loved about the smell of rain on grass on an early February day. While the winter season in Storrs was brutal, overly long and gloomy, the way the earthy notes filled your senses as you walked home, surrounded by a thick fog, would have given you a pleasant reminder of the incoming spring on any other day. Unfortunately, this was not any other day.

There was no sugarcoating it: the Huskies had an awful game yesterday. The team could not seem to get their shots to fall, shooting only twenty percent from three and forty percent from the paint against a team that should have been a hell of a lot easier to dominate offensively. Miscommunications led to numerous turnovers and lost opportunities for shots (you lost track of how many times a player failed to spot a wide open Azzi, leading to frustration from both her and Paige). You were unable to make the game, having a massive exam the next day and not having the time to spend even a few hours not being remotely locked in. Your attempt to focus was futile as you sat in the library, headphones in and struggling to pay attention to your Quizlet set as the announcers seemed to tear into every single decision your girlfriend made on the broadcast.

Paige ended up being thankful you weren’t there in person, not wanting you to see the carnage firsthand, but it didn’t make you feel any less guilty. Paige never took a loss easy, but it seemed like this one especially got to her. After your exam you checked in once again, only for her to say they would be spending the majority of the night in the film room watching the game. Afterward, she planned on staying on the court to practice her shot, eager to not repeat the same mistakes come March.

You loved how dedicated she was, you really did. But you were starting to get really, really worried about her. 

You had fully accepted that you would likely not see much of her for the next few days, allowing yourself the night to unwind after a grueling exam (you were happy to say you’re positive you passed it, as low of a bar as that is). You let your muscles relax under the steam of your shower, the eucalyptus hanging from the shower head and the lavender in your body wash clearing your mind of all your worries from this week momentarily. That is until you realized you couldn’t completely enjoy it knowing that Paige was out there, absolutely destroying herself over something that was not solely her fault. She deserves to relax too, you thought with a frown.

After spritzing your favorite scent around your room, lathering your legs in your most moisturizing lotion, and crawling into your freshly washed sheets, you were prepared for a night of finally continuing your latest pleasure read (a book that had been thrown aside the past week in favor of a biology text book). What you weren’t prepared for is the buzz emitting from your phone about twenty minutes into your self care night, right in the middle of a sexually charged scene between the two love interests. Your confusion was quickly replaced with concern when you saw that it was Paige attempting to FaceTime you.

Upon answering, you noted how sweat pooled at the top of her forehead, which was creased in frustration. Her hair was in a slicked back pony, her UConn blue practice was soaked through, and she looked pissed as she stood in the middle of the court.

“None of my fucking shots are landing,” she grumbled before you could even greet her, wiping away some of the sweat with the hand not holding the phone. “I’ve been here for the past hour after Geno let us go, and I can’t figure out where I’m going wrong.”

She appeared to be getting even more worked up as she spoke, a flush rising to her cheeks. “I’m supposed to be one of the oldest ones here, I can’t be out here making rookie ass mistakes. It’s not going to go well in March, and it’s definitely not going to go well in the W.”

It broke your heart to see this. Paige always said pressure was a privilege, but you watched in real time as the normal pressure Paige had on her shoulders evolved into something deeper, something closer to self loathing. “Paige, baby, I think you need to take a break. You can’t perform well if you’re like this.”

She shook her head no, an action you anticipated. Picking up her water bottle and spraying some in her mouth, she continued, “Nah, I gotta keep going. I just need to figure out how I can fucking focus.”

You took note of the grip on the water bottle, the command in her voice, and her determination. The idea hit you like a runaway train, tumbling through your lips before you could hesitate. 

“Take it out on me.”

Paige had made half assed eye contact with the camera the entire conversation, too frustrated and ashamed to face you, but these five words brought her wide eyes to face yours. You couldn’t tell if they were filled with disbelief or intrigue - maybe both. “What?”

It’s not like you and Paige’s sex life was completely tame. She was always down to try new positions, whether it be using fingers, mouths, or toys. There have definitely been nights where her teammates have sent her a strongly worded message letting her know that their walls were not as thick as she thought. But sex between the two of you had always been passionate, loving … never angry. Until now. 

You would be lying if you said you never felt some type of way watching Paige get upset at the refs, wondering what that kind of attention would look like in bed. As much as you trusted Paige, you just didn’t want to run the risk of saying anything that would alter her perception of you. But here you were, sat in bed wearing an old high school tee shirt and pajama shorts (not the sexiest outfit on the planet), and there was no way of deleting what you’ve already said. Inhaling, you continue. “You need to get your frustration out before you can shoot. I’m just saying you have an outlet.”

The gesture to your body was not lost on Paige, who looked like a deer in headlights. You were so close to ending the call, pulling your fuzzy blanket over your face and pretending none of this ever happened, when she spoke. “Are you saying you want me to fuck you to get my anger out?”

Her tone was blank, but even through the pixelated call (damn the poor signal in the practice court) you could see the switch in her - what was now a confused expression shifted to a calm kind of fire, the kind only you could recognize from her. Your stomach flipped, realizing she was just as into this idea as you were. Thank God. “I’m saying I want you to fuck me like you’re mad at me.”

She looked to the side, throwing her head slightly back and showing off her jawline. Without another word she moved to the side of the court, grabbing her bag and her keys off the ground. “Leave your door unlocked. I’m on my way,” she announced, before ending the call.

You gulped, knowing all you could do was open Find My, watch Paige slowly drive closer and closer to your apartment, and wonder what the hell you just got yourself into. 

—-

Paige had learned the code to your apartment long before, having been with you exclusively for almost a year. So when she arrived at your place, with you standing waiting for her with fidgeting thumbs, it took her almost no time to set her bag down and saunter over to you, cupping your face and smashing your lips together. It could almost be described as romantic the way she was holding you, how one hand reached down to your torso to stabilize you. You couldn’t help but moan quietly as you felt her cologne mixed with her own musk waft into your senses.

But then she began stepping forward, forcing your steps with her against the fake hardwood, until your back was pressed against the wall. Paige finally pulled apart from you with a look that could only be described as pure, unrestricted hunger. All the rage towards herself, the frustration toward the previous days game, it all manifested into her gaze. One hand trailed to the side of your neck as she spoke softly, yet with strength. “Pretty girl wants to help me, huh?”

You nodded all too enthusiastically, taking pleasure in this new side of Paige: the one who was completely in control, and proud of it. She seemed to be taking pleasure in it as well, grabbing your wrist carefully and guiding the two of you to your bedroom which had been eagerly awaiting her arrival. 

“I want to do this right,” she began, removing her shoes as you moved to sit on your bed with your feet dangling. “Green means keep going, yellow means pause, red means stop. The second you don’t want to do something, we stop. Got it?”

You nod, expecting nothing less than a tender check in from your girlfriend who was currently walking slowly to meet you. In some ways, you felt similar to your first time with Paige: slightly awkward, filled with unknowns. But you wanted this. God, you wanted this.

She reaches the bed, pushing you down onto the mattress you were laying in earlier in the night, this time in a far different context. Her lips are back on you, this time sucking harshly on your neck in places that are certain to switch shades tomorrow. You cannot bring yourself to care much in the moment, however, allowing yourself to be consumed by all things Paige. 

Her hands move to your hips, trailing under the waist band of your shorts and quickly making a move to discard them. Her fingers touched your skin, alternating between hard grips and smooth brushes. “Take your shirt off,” she muttered, her grip tightening around your thighs as she spoke into your underwear clad cunt. 

You obey her, feeling as though you had entered a trance from the way she spoke with so much authority. You know you look a little strange as you rush to get the shirt over your head, but Paige pays no mind: her eyes are busy tracing your frame, memorizing every curve, every mark, and every texture as if it was the first time. A smirk spread across her lips, her striking blue eyes somehow looking darker. “Can’t wait to fucking ruin you.”

She peppered kisses down your body, the fire in her body feeling more like worship as she made her way down your breasts, your stomach, all the way to your clothed core.

Discarding your underwear, she began one of her greatest talents off the court. You felt her flick her tongue against you, shuddering at the mix of impact as well as the air conditioning hitting your skin. Her mouth explored you, prompting sharp cries from you as you fell back against your pillows. She took a break to nip at the skin where your thigh met your core, evoking something between a yelp and a moan. 

“Pussy so fucking good,” she spoke, continuing her ministrations. It was like she was fueled by your pleasure, each drop spurring her on further. Her teammates always joked about Paige being a munch - if they only knew to what extent. 

She delved her tongue in further, using her hands to spread you open. 

You felt a very familiar knot begin to form, one that you could always expect with your girlfriend. “So good… Gonna cum P.”

As soon as she went to work, Paige got off, leaving only the harsh breeze in her place as you laid there dumbfounded. The knot within you, once welcome, was now dulling into something tantalizing and almost painful. 

You whined, “Why did you stop?”

Her laugh that followed felt downright mocking, reaching down to caress your face once more. “You didn’t think this was going to be easy, did you baby?” 

You pouted, knowing you looked fucking ridiculous. “But I was so close.”

Your girlfriend shrugged, taking no concern in the way your pussy drenched your sheets or the way your nipples puffed unattended. “Get me off and maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

That sentence sent you into gear immediately, motivated by the urge to cheer up your girl as well as the selfish desire to get your way after your ruined orgasm. You scanned Paige’s body, drinking up every muscle as you shoved her shorts down along with her boxers. She laid down, taking your place with raised eyebrows looking nonchalant and cocky as ever.

 You took your place between her thighs, offering kitten licks to her clit as her hands reached your hair. Your mouth opened further, allowing you to eat her out with the same fervor she was earlier. 

You knew her well enough to know the tell tale signs she was enjoying herself - every sharp inhale, every squeeze of her legs, every hum she made. It all meant she was closer to what she wanted, and you were closer to what you needed. You just needed to hear it.

Pulling off of her clit with a pop, you shot your best doe eyed look at your girlfriend, who once again seemed to have a pool of sweat at her forehead. “Feel good baby?”

She responded not with words, but by shoving you back onto her core roughly, prompting you to continue your work on her. You looked and sounded like a fucking pornstar, moaning into her pussy as if you were the one getting off (which wasn’t that far off). You heard her grunt above you.

“Gonna cum on your pretty face.”

If Paige is one thing, it’s a woman of her word, so it doesn’t shock you when she fulfills her promise moments later. Her cum drips down your lips moments later, and you lap it all up. You live for this shit, watching Paige stare at you in amazement as she surrenders to your touch. The fire within the blonde settles, save for her continued labored breathing as evident by the rise and fall in her chest. She looks at you, her stare downright dangerous. 

“Want me to make you cum, pretty girl?” From the way she said it, you knew she wasn’t asking.

You switched places once more, allowing her middle finger to slot itself in your pussy with the same vigor with which it once grabbed your head. She was pounding you, fingers focused on penetrating areas only she seemed to touch in the right way while her mouth payed ample attention to your clit.

 You felt your legs jerk, eyes welling up. The familiar sensations of pleasure came back to you even quicker, flooding through you like Malibu waters. You were falling in so deep, your mind swimming in everything she was giving you.

Your legs gripped Paige’s head, an action that felt like muscle memory at this point. You didn’t even need to say it - she knew what this meant. And it meant she stopped once more, wiping her mouth and looking at you with a mischievous grin. You were just around ready to scream, gripping the pillow beside you.

“I did what you wanted, baby, please.” You whimpered, looking downright helpless at this point. “Please let me cum.”

You were so eager, and this was all so unfair. And yet you took it all, knowing that this was exactly what you asked for.

Paige raised an eyebrow, blinking a couple of times before nodding. “You wanna cum? You got it.”

She returns to your clit for the third time that night, gripping your hips as if you were planning on going anywhere but here, as if you were capable of not being consumed by her as she sucked. If eating pussy was an award winning sport, it would be yet another award on Paige’s already impressive roster. If there was one thing she loved doing more with her mouth than talking, it was making her girl feel good.

If you weren’t so focused on the way she was making you feel, you would maybe be a little more embarrassed about the noises you were making, how the pleas of “more” and “harder” emitted from you so easily. Paige had that effect on you, especially tonight when she was pulling out all the stops.

You nearly cried with relief when your breath quickened and muscles tightened and Paige didn’t fucking move, continuing to circle your clit with her finger while lapping you up like she was parched. Finally, waves crashed over you as you came with a shout of her name and a gush of fluid being deposited straight into her mouth, which she accepted happily. You rode out the feeling, Paige assisting with her reassurance. “Lemme hear you baby, fuck.” She moaned into you, a move that was teetering into the overstimulating category.

Little did you know that was just a taste of what was to come. 

Taking time to lick up all the remaining cum from your pussy, she kissed up your body, finding herself at your awaiting lips once more. You sigh as you taste yourself, melting into the warmth of your girlfriend who just rocked your world. Based on the way she showed up to your apartment, you were certainly expecting more fire from her, but you were glad to end the night with a pleasant ache between your thighs.

You grin into the kiss, reaching up her shirt in order to get more contact only for her hands to grab your wrists, throwing them next to your head against the pillows before you could even process what she was doing. You take the time to look at her, really look at her, and see that the same tone is in her eyes, and that her fire hasn’t been contained. In fact, she looks ready to pounce. “I know you can give me another, right baby?”

Multiple orgasms in one night were not an anomaly for you and Paige, but typically there was time in between - the additional sessions usually happened after an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, or during a shower. You gulped, only able to nod as Paige trailed her hand back down to your spent pussy, cupping it before slipping a finger inside.

It was not lost on Paige the way your eyes squeezed shut at the intrusion, pain mixing with pleasure as she began moving. “Can’t take it baby?” She asked like it was a challenge. She was unsurprised when you shook your head no, determined to accept everything she was giving you. “That’s what I thought. Such a slut for me. Good fucking girl.”

A proud smile graced her face as she took note of the sopping sound of your pussy as she fucked you, the way your mouth couldn’t hold back moans and pleas for more, and it hit you: she was scoring, making up for her mistakes from yesterday through you. It only made the heat on your core worse, blurring your vision until everything felt hazy. 

You could tell she was loving this shit, eating up how you were reacting to her. One hand trailed up, reaching for your tit and massaging it roughly. “Gonna let me do what I want to you, isn’t that right baby?”

You moaned as she spoke, relishing in the way that she was fully getting comfortable dominating you like this, fucking you like a dirty whore instead of her beloved girlfriend. She stretched you out so good, leaving no room for anything except her. 

You felt the build up again, static rising in your body as you attempted to focus on your breathing. This effort would prove to be futile, as Paige knew you all too well. Her movements intensified, her breath growing heavy against your ear as she growled, “Who’s making you feel this good?”

You all but sob, “Y-you, P, fuck.”

She smiles, loving the way you sound as your pussy clenches around her with a fucking grip that anyone would die for. She was so fucking lucky. “Wanna feel this pussy cum around me, c’mon.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, your body shuddering as you released once again hitting your high like a drug as your back arched into her touch.Your cunt pulsed around Paige, causing a guttural moan to erupt from her lips as you rained down on her fingers. 

She stared in wonder as she removed them once the majority of your high subsided, noting how they glistened under your lights. “Can do this all night. Pussy so fucking good.”

As much as you attempted to enjoy the remnants of your orgasm, the statement brought a wave of panic through you as you processed that you may not be done just yet. “Two’s enough, P,” you said, nuzzling your face in her neck.

Big mistake.

She jolted her head up, look at you intently. “What’s your color, baby?”

You paused, recognizing your mistake and the ache between your thighs. But there is nothing more that you wanted than to fulfill your promise to Paige, and you couldn’t deny the way heat rose to your face when you saw just how fine Paige looked when she was this focused on you. “Green.”

Paige grinned. “Then shut the fuck up.”

She flipped the two of you, hoisting you so her muscular thigh was pressed just at the right angle to give your spent clit undivided attention. A loud slap went to your ass, jolting you forward slightly and providing the first dose of stimulation as you rode her thigh in the process. “Paige, baby.”

She sat up quickly, pushing your body against hers as she helped you ride. She nibbled at your ear, whispering a series of sweet nothings as her firm grip on your ass never faltered.

“Ride me just like that.”

“I know you can go faster than that, c’mon.”

“Moaning for me like a fucking slut.”

Your memory beyond this point was a little faulty, coming and going in bursts. One second, you knew you were riding Paige like a mechanical bull, putting all of your (very little) remaining energy into giving her the best show you could, knowing that this is what she deserved. After a flash of white, moans and voices muffled, you awoke still sat on top of Paige. She rubbed your back, shushing you and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. 

“You’re done, baby, it’s okay. Did so so good for me, my perfect girl.”

—————

“Didn’t go too hard on you, right?”

You turned to face Paige, who was laying next to you in your bed. The past forty five minutes had been devoted strictly to aftercare, with Paige refusing to let you lift a finger. She helped you take yet another shower, lathering your body for you and kissing your shoulders as she hugged you from behind. She stripped and replaced your sheets, running yet another load. And now the two of you laid there, glasses of water nearby, and Paige was looking at you with both curiosity and fear.

You grabbed her hand from the arm that was currently wrapped around your shoulder. “I would have told you baby, trust me.” You offered her hand a kiss, sparking a smile on the blonde’s lips. “Do you feel any better?”

She nodded, leaning her forehead against yours. “Just needed to clear my head. The pressure just- it’s a lot sometimes.” You nodded, understanding how overwhelmed she got with the eyes on her at all times. A shy blush reached her cheeks as she debated speaking again, before deciding in favor. “I also thought tonight was hot. Like, really hot.”

You laughed, her quickly following. Sure, you couldn’t fix all of Paige’s problems with sex. But it certainly couldn’t hurt to try. 

[callsigns-haze]

Little life

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin has always been the centre of attention, but behind the cocky aviator façade, he cherishes quiet nights at home with his pregnant wife, Y/N, as they navigate love, routine, and a life the squad knows nothing about.

Warning: This fic contains fluff, pregnancy themes, and light teasing romance.

Word count: 1068 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

English is not my first language so I apologies for mistakes

Part 2 Part 3

Jake Seresin was a man who always seemed to attract attention. With his easy charm and cocky grin, women flocked to him the moment they laid eyes on him. It happened every time—at the bar, after missions, during social events. The second a woman saw him, they’d saunter over, usually with a flirtatious smile, batting their lashes, asking him to buy them a drink.

And every time, without fail, Jake turned them down.

It confused the entire Dagger squad. They’d tease him relentlessly about it, nudging him with raised brows and playful smirks, wondering why someone like him—someone who had the looks, the swagger, the perfect call sign—never took the bait. They couldn’t figure him out. To them, Jake seemed like the type to indulge in a little fun, to soak up the attention and enjoy the benefits of being the golden boy.

But Jake wasn’t interested.

Not anymore.

Because the truth was, when Jake wasn’t flying missions or teasing his teammates, he was at home in Texas, living a life no one suspected. He had a routine, a life outside of the cocky, brash aviator persona he wore like a second skin.

That life began with you.

You sat at your desk, soft lighting casting a warm glow over your latest manuscript. The smell of ink and freshly brewed tea hung in the air, and the quiet hum of a summer night filtered through the open window. You were three months pregnant now, the couple married for a month now, and the bump had just started to show beneath your oversized sweater, a fact Jake never missed when he was home.

He sat nearby, like always, in his favourite armchair. His legs stretched out casually, one arm slung over the back, while the other held a half-empty glass of whiskey. His eyes weren’t on the drink, though—they were on you, as they always were.

You highlighted another line in your manuscript, frowning a little as you moved the neon marker across the page. The ruler in your hand—one you used to make sure your lines were perfectly straight—had gotten a little too stained with colour, and without thinking, you reached out and wiped the edge of the ruler off on Jake’s hand.

He chuckled, low and warm, shaking his head in amusement. “You know, sweetheart, there are other ways to clean that thing. Ever heard of tissues?”

You glanced at him, giving a half-smile as you continued working. “Maybe. But I prefer you.”

That made him grin wider. “Lucky me, then.”

It had become a sort of routine for the two of you, especially now that you were pregnant and he was often gone on missions. When he was home, though, there was no place Jake would rather be than right here, with you, basking in the quiet moments. To anyone else, he was “Hangman”—the sharp-tongued aviator with an ego the size of Texas itself. But with you, he was just Jake, the man who found peace in the most mundane of moments.

He loved watching you work. The way your brow would furrow in concentration, how you’d absentmindedly tuck your hair behind your ear, or bite your lip when you were thinking through a tricky plot point. Jake would tease you for your little quirks, leaning over to plant a quick kiss on the top of your head when he couldn’t resist anymore.

“Need any help there, author of mine?” he’d ask, his voice teasing but soft.

You’d roll your eyes in response, but your smile always gave you away. “I think I’ve got it covered, flyboy.”

Jake would laugh and go back to his drink, but you knew he liked being part of your world like this. When you’d first met, you had been a rising star in the literary world, already on your way to becoming a bestselling author. You were about to turn 20 in a couple weeks just before you wandered into 27 year old Jakes life. Jake never made a big deal about it, though he’d brag quietly to himself every time he saw one of your books displayed in airport bookstores. No one in the squad had any idea who you were, much less that you and Jake were married. And he liked it that way. He liked keeping this part of his life private, away from the chaos of the outside world.

With you, everything was simpler. Real.

Jake loved you in ways no one ever saw. He loved you in the stolen kisses between your sentences, in the lazy mornings in bed when you pressed your nose against his chest, in the quiet I love you’s whispered as he pulled you close late at night. You were his world—everything else was just noise.

As you finished another page, you sighed softly, stretching your arms above your head. Jake’s gaze was on you in an instant, taking in the slight curve of your stomach, his eyes filled with warmth and pride. He got up from his chair and moved behind you, his large hands coming to rest on your shoulders, gently kneading away the tension that had built up from hours of working.

“Time to take a break, darlin’,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple.

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a moment. “Just a little longer. I’m almost done.”

Jake let out a soft laugh, low and teasing. “That’s what you said an hour ago.”

You smiled, but your body relaxed under his hands. You couldn’t deny that the warmth of his touch and the quiet affection in his voice had a way of making you forget the world for a while.

“Alright, alright,” you relented, setting your highlighter down. “But only because you’re so persuasive.”

Jake grinned, pressing a kiss to your neck before straightening up. He turned your chair around so you were facing him, his hands on either side of the armrests, caging you in. His eyes sparkled with that mischievous glint he always had when he was about to say something that would make your heart race.

“Darlin’, I don’t need to be persuasive,” he drawled, his Southern accent thick and smooth. “I’m your favourite distraction, remember?”

You laughed, shaking your head as he leaned in closer. “You’re impossible, Jake.”

“And you love me for it,” he said, his lips brushing against yours before kissing you softly, his hand resting on your belly, feeling the life growing inside you.

And he was right, even though he was nearly seven years older—you did love him for it.

I may or may not have made this into a mini series so let me know if you'd like to be tagged

Part 2 Part 3