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dear-ao3 · 2 months ago

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the 2024 formula 1 silly season and drama master post, part 2 (part 1 here)

Hello and welcome to ah fucking fuck auto caps fuck fuck fuck how do i turn off auto caps AHA there we go okay. take 2

hello and welcome to the great and very insane formula 1 2024 season drama post, part 2. if you are new here or are just looking for part one (which contains the previous 16 (?) races, the off season, pre season testing and everything else, that can be found HERE. (a word to the wise: open it in a browser, not the app, and preferably on a computer to avoid crashing. its fucking long).

what the hell is formula 1? car go fast. fastest cars in the world zoom around tracks at top speeds of over 300kph, piloted by the top 20 drivers in the world. it might not sound dramatic, but oh man. you will Not be disappointed. this post focuses on the drama, the insanity, the sheer what the hell how is this a serious sport. no legitimately. we've just about seen it all this year. grindr, dogs, watersports, ice cream brands, its all here.

the point of this post? to educate, to catalog the insane drama, and to just have a good time. people like to gatekeep this sport, there is also a lot happening. i try to make it easy to understand. again, probably best to start at the beginning of the post because it does a pretty good job of explaining things, which i began way back in january, and can be found HERE (again, shes long, be careful)

and, as usual, if you do not want to see this post EVER AGAIN, block the tag #saph explains silly season 2024

and a second caution, i assume this post will be getting long as well. including this one we have minimum 9 updates left!

anyway, those of you who have been following along the whole time, welcome back! i know we got a little delayed. and i know we’re on a new post, so lets just briefly take a second for me to explain what the fuck happened. first i had an anatomy test, second i work 2 jobs with fuck ass hours, third tumblr decided to stop letting me look at any of my drafts, fourth tumblr support ghosted me about the drafts issue and the post was half saving half not so i just decided fuck it, were going with post 2, electric boogaloo, and fifth, i decided to start typing this instead in a google docs so. many changes. if you're new here i am usually more on top of this.

but here we are. were back on street circuits. we’re in baku, azerbaijan, for the start of the last third of the season. 8 races remain, world championship titles are still within grasp of multiple people. the drama is dramaing. and today is september 22, 2024 and lets fucking go.

first and foremost, on account of the fact that this post is late (again, see above), were going to have to do a bit of a speed run. if you're new here, i promise that this is not representative of my normal dedication to the update post. and for those asking, yeah, ill probably compile it somewhere better than a tumblr post after its all said and done, but we don't have time for that now.

what we do have time for is the Off Week (and like some of the media stuff). and it was filled with silliness:

george russell decided to wear what can only be described as slightly ugly yellow short shorts with his taylor swift shirt that he got at the eras tour. this was baffling for several reasons, the main reason being that i don't think the internet knew that he was capable of wearing a graphic t shirt

fernando alonso got his aston martin valkyrie finally. in case you are unfamiliar, a valkyrie i think is the worlds fastest street legal car. he posted tweets about this that made it seem like he wanted to fuck the car. hilariously, the car broke down an hour later.

we also had the very thrilling conclusion to grill the grid. oscar won and he somehow managed to look more pleased about his grill the grid win than his first race victory.

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nico rosberg went to the green awards and he wore a fantastically insane teal blue suit. yes i know hes not a current driver. but you all like hearing about him so ask and you shall receive. unfornunately i cant find a picture of it though

and also not a current driver is mick schumacher, but my roommate asked me to include that he was seen on his girlfriends instagram being bad at golf. like. exceptionally bad at golf. like he hit a tree 20 feet in front of him.

also playing golf was lando norris. except he managed to look like try bolton from high school musical 2.

he also talked about the world driver championship with his friend max fewtrell while they were playing golf. unfortunately i lost this link in the sea of technical difficulties, but the gist of it was that he was saying that there is still hope for him to beat max in the championship (hes about 60 points behind right now). lando doesnt usually talk about the championship because he doesnt want news outlets to paint him as “desperate” so this was interesting

charles leclerc had an insane off week. first he rear ended someone in monaco. then he spoke at a yacht conference. he was not scheduled to speak at said yacht conference, he was there doing something else and they were like hey you're cool people know you, heres a microphone. he alsp ended up on a weather channel while promoting a karting event he was doing for the jules bianchi foundation (his god father, the one who died during the f1 race in japan 2014). he also changed his instagram pop and re centered it because some random tiktoker told him it matched his aesthetic better.

oscar piastri posted a photo of himself sitting in the cockpit of a plane and then promptly deleted it. because he posted it on 9/11. for anyone who doesnt know what that is, that was when some terrorists hijacked commercial planes and few them into the world trade centers in nyc and the pentagon in washington dc

max verstappen also posted a plane pic with himself and lando norris, but he did not delete it.

we also had the return of daniel ricciardo’s jpg instagram account, which is kinda like a finsta for photos that hes taken. i think lando started this a few years ago.

heading into the race week we certainly got a weird ass batch of pr. including but not limited to:

lewis hamilton was back on top and slaying in the fit game. as was yuki.

lewis hamilton also exposed george russell as listening to katy perry pre race. katy perry and taylor swift (this was after he claimed that he liked listening to old school rap music.) though, lewis then started singing wrecking ball???? confusing vibes all around

george was not off the hook yet tho because some intern definitely make him say skidibidi toilet or whatever the thing is idk, i might be gen z but im not insufferable, okay? actually george in baku was just all kinds of unhinged

george and alex also got up to something, what it is no one knows but it is clearly something

max pulled up to the paddock de aged about 10 years. picture one is of him in baku in 2015 (i believe he was 17) and picture 2 is this year. no i am not kidding.

and franco walked into the paddock telling everyone about argentinian mate (which is a drink, not a friend)

and max shoved a microphone out of the way so everyone could gossip

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then of course, we had some slightly more relevant drama

haas announced that ollie would be replacing kevin at baku. in case you forgot, kevin magnussen received a total of 12 penalty points over the season so far, which means he gets one race ban. how did he get the points? well he was mostly wreaking havoc on everyone else so that his teammate, nico hulkenberg, could drag his car into the points. lets all remember the time in saudi arabia where he managed to get 20 seconds of penalties by basically driving like a mad man just to make sure that nico could keep his position after he pit stopped. anyway, nico was kind of pissed about the race ban situation and said “maybe the guidelines for F1 penalties need to be reviewed as the stewards ‘want to get involved’ no matter the contact.”

in any case though, k mags was out. and ollie was in. we’ve seen ollie before. notably he subbed in for carlos sainz at the saudi arabia gp when carlos had appendicitis. he managed to get points as well. since then, he has been announced as a haas driver for 2025 and is now subbing in for k mags (haas, later in the week called him a super sub. clearly no gen z person read that over.) he can do this because ferrari has a haas engine so they share reserve drivers.

adrian newey finally got employed. i know! i can hardly believe it either! but he did! and youll never guess where!

ferrari? no that would be too obvious.

mercedes? nah

williams? no too much of a shit show

aston martin? ding ding ding! just the right amount of shit show!

that is right. newey is going to aston for 2025.

apparently he was offered a “good package” according to himself, which i assume means pay and also the fact that lawrence stroll made him a shareholder? stakeholder? whatever its called. in the team itself. basically he has a lot of power.

he said that he always wanted to work with fernando and lewis. and he couldn't do both. and aston had a better package than ferrari.

fernando looked positively evil during all the announcement pictures. and called the team "definitely the team of the future" and for those of you who don't know, fernando is positively evil. hes just been stuck in a shit box and we havent seen very much of him, but man does he know how to evilly slut it up. so that will be fun to see.

by contrast, people said that lance was not excited enough. and well. lance 1. has resting bitch face and 2. never really looks excited about anything. also he lives in a world where take your child to work day somehow became his job. (his dad owns the team).

lewis hamilton was asked what he thought about adrian not going to ferrari, and here's what he had to say:

"i feel like, while I have mentioned before that it would be an honor to work with adrian, i have been privileged to work with two championship winning teams that didnt have adrian."

mclaren announced pato o ward would do FP1 in mexico. who is pato o ward? hes one of mclaren’s indycar drivers and one of the f1 reserve drivers. he is incredibly charming and definitely runs his own social media as seen here:

mclaren Also claim they figured out who their number 2 driver is and they claim its oscar. i say they claim because the statements were a lot more complex than that. essentially, according to andrea stella, the priority is to the team first, then lando and then oscar. so they didn't outright say that oscar is the number 2 driver and i am willing to bet real money that this is because mr mark webber, oscars manager, has something in oscars contract that prevents him from being a number 2 driver. this is of course because mark webber was one of the most infamous number 2 drivers in f1 history to none other than menace war criminal sebastian vettel, who in their time as teammates, managed to win 4 back to back world champions. or, top to bottom if you're mrs darbus from high school musical.

lando was asked about this and he said that yes, the team does support him. though he would not expect oscar to give up a win for him and that it is more complex behind the scenes. i suppose we will see if there are any papaya rules coming out this weekend….

and oscar said "i think the main point is its not purely just going to be me pulling over for lando every single race, because thats how none of us, including lando, wont want to go racing, if we feel that someone has done a much better job on a weekend, whichever way it is, we want that person to be rewarded."

max verstappen commented on the mclaren situation as well. which was funny mostly because red bull has one of the most defined number 1 and number 2 drivers of any team. he said "you look at it form oscar's perspective, he is closer to lando than lando to me. they have to deal with that."

and allow me to put on a tin foil hat as we are about to talk about the future of the red bull seat. because all i have to offer here is a baseball hat and a red bull can.

a long time ago we talked about the red bull cans. the ones that red bull makes to promote f1. at the end of last season red bull put max and checo on the red bull can. this season at the start it was just max on the red bull can. well. now checo has reappeared on the cans too. and i will tell you what i think this means. it means that checo is not getting swapped this season, which was a possibility for awhile.

but! there is more!

daniel ricciardo made an instagram post this week. and it was very interesting. but most interestingly he was wearing a red bull hat.

which he does occasionally, no big deal really. he did race for the for several years, he technically does currently. BUT then he showed up TO THE PADDOCK wearing the red bull hat.

which is Big Interesting. usually you show up in a statement outfit or wearing the team kit. and daniel is not a red bull racing driver. he is a visa cashapp racing bulls driver. they might be owned by red bull but they are Not the same team. so why the red bull hat. in the paddock. well, the rumor is that hes taking checos seat for 2025. and the rumor is that this will be announced before mexico. so checo can have a proper send off.

and with that. the baku lore.

theres a lot that has happened at baku. as i said its a street circuit. and i think its the fastest street circuit. but over the years theres been some notable events.

such as the great kimi raikkonen radio for gloves and steering wheel:

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they gave mini kimi this week gloves and steering wheel in honor of that

the max and daniel crash in 2018 when they were running p1 and p2 respectfully

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and of course. how could we forget. charles’s infamous “i am stupid” radio.

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speaking of charles, he crashed again in fp1. not quite in the same spot, but nearly. he took a picture with the marshalls.

then in fp2 he rage quit, basically saying that the car sucks.

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but he was back and better than ever in practice three because he managed to top the time charts. welcome back fuck ass ferrari.

some other teams definitely experienced the lows but not really the highs of baku during practice. like lance stroll who came on the radio to say “this is not a car” (good thing they have adrian newey now, right?

franco colapinto also cut his ear before practice on the neck strengthener stretcher thing that they all use and the team wanted to give him stitches but he was like no no no i need to be in the car in about 5 minutes im not doing that. so he jammed on his helmet and jumped in the car. he also crashed and when he went to the medical center he took off his helmet and there was blood everywhere and they were like no no no you cannot race! and he was like no! this is not from the crash! and then explained it and they let him do qualifying.

also im pretty sure? ollie bearman crashed? in practice? but frankly i don't have time to google it so whos to say.

but alas. qualifying.

i know i know this is kind of a shitty update. i promise ill go all out in singapore. i PROMISE.

so as i said. its a street circuit. high speed. 90 degree corners. and also windy as hell. we also had the dynamic duo of karun and harry in the commentary box.

max led the first practice, george led the second and i think charles led the third. or some order like that.

slipstream here is almost essential (slipstream: going behind another car to reduce the wind drag so you can go faster)

charles has the last three pole positions (first in qualifying) here in baku, but he has never won. by comparison, red bull have never had pole here but they have won.

and franco has never been to baku before.

i think that's all the exposition that we need here.

q1 started with max complaining about his car. “the car is jumping around like crazy on the rear axle” he said. despite this he was sitting in p3.

the mid field battle though….the mid field battle was heating the hell up. mostly because none other than franco colapinto, who if you will remember, has never been to baku before, had split the two ferraris. he was in third for the moment, .109 seconds behind carlos sainz and .159 seconds ahead of charles leclerc. we still had a lot of qualifying left to go, so this was probably not going to stay, but it was still insane. he was pushing insanely hard, nearly kissing the walls. clearly he had learned from his crash in practice.

the two mclarens waited until the very end of q1 to do their final flying push lap, and oscar made it through, but tragedy struck for lando.

lando was in the middle of his last flying lap, time was ticking down, and there was a Very Brief yellow flag on the track. now, according to rules, you cannot complete your flying lap if there is a yellow flag. so lando pitted and was stuck down in 17th and out of qualifying. this would be the first time that he was out in q1 since vegas last year (which if i remember correctly was also not his fault)

now though, of course nothing is ever that cut and dry. people thought that there had been a mis showing of a flag. yellow flag means that a car is stopped on track, white flag means that a car is going slowly on the track. and people thought that there had been a yellow flag shown when it was actually supposed to be a white flag (if there had been a white flag then lando would have been able to keep doing his flying lap) lando himself said that he had no idea what people were talking about because there is a light on the steering wheel that lights up when flags are called and he had a big yellow light. so it was clearly a yellow flag.

if you're concerned about lando being able to pull it out of the bag, id like to point you in the direction of the mexican gp last year where lando qualified 17th and finished 5th. on a track that was hard to overtake on. he can be absolutely insane when he wants to be. worry not gentle reader.

in any case. also out in q1 was daniel ricciardo, valtteri bottas, zhou guanyu and esteban ocon.

and notably, williams, who was on fucking fire this weekend as we already saw, finished q1 with alex albon in second (ahead of oscar) and franco colapinto in 8th. pierre gasly had somehow managed to also get into 4th. and nico hulkenberg was in 7th with ollie bearman in 13th. i told you the mid field battle was heating the hell up.

q2. everyone zoomed straight out of the gate. they didn't want to get lando norris’d. but, speaking of that, if lando managed to get no points in the race and charles managed to win, charles would overtake lando in the drivers championship. mark webber himself told this to charles, who was absolutely baffled.

in any case, charles was kinda suffering right now and that was because he was not getting slipstream from carlos to make his lap faster. meanwhile, carlos seemed to be actively trying to give charles the slipstream because he came on radio to say “he keeps missing the tow”

and amazingly, franco colapinto was 4 tenths AHEAD of alex albon. alex albon who had not been unqualified by his teammate once since the start of 2023. ex red bull driver alex albon. that alex albon.

max topped the times in q2, followed immediately by charles. insanely, fernando alonso managed to drag the aston martin to fifth. and franco was right behind him in 6th. by comparison alex albon was in 10th.

and from q2 we lost ollie bearman, yuki tsunoda (who has never qualified lower than 8th in baku), pierre gasly, nico hulkenberg and lance stroll. so yes, ollie bearman managed to outqualify nico hulkenberg. this is ollies second ever f1 race.

steaming on forward to q3.

we had, for review, in q3 the following:

both ferraris, both red bulls, both mercedes, both WILLIAMS (has not happened since vegas 2023), plus fernando alonso and oscar piastri.

right out the gate it was wild.

“red bull! theyve re found their mojo! or have they!” karun said. red bull were in 5th and 6th and not entirely sucking for the moment.

everyone did one flyer and then came out at the end for a second flyer.

here were the standings:

charles, carlos, oscar, george, checo, max, lewis, alex, franco, fernando

and everyone was making it to the line and all was going smooth until-

wait a second what is that

could it be! alex albon! with the air box fan still on his car! surely not!!!

oh but it was! and harry and karun were like oh wow so unfortunate for williams tisk tisk

meanwhile ted jumped on the radio to Loudly announce to everyone that this was insane and if i have time here i will put the rant he ranted cause it was Fantastic.

and what do you know i have time

so we had 3 minutes left qualifying and everyone was pulling out of the pits for their last flyer when oscar hopped on the radio to say

"the williams still has the air box fan in"

"oh what an error! disaster for williams!" karun and harry said. they speculated if the marshalls could get it or if the session needed to be red flagged. but alex threw the fan off the car.

and then they asked "ted have you ever seen that before?" and ted did not hold back:

"ITS A MASSIVE YELLOW FAN HOW COULD YOU MISS IT???!!! HOW COULD THE MECHANICS MISS IT???? I CANT BELIVE THEY WOULD MAKE SUCH A MISTAKE DOWN AT WILLIAMS! SUCH AN EXPERIENCED BUNCH OF GUYS AND GIRLS! WHAT IS GOING ON AT WILLIAMS OPERATIONALLY? HOW COULD YOU SEND A CAR OUT LIKE THAT?"

alex, obviously, got fined for an unsafe release 5k euros. he also had to throw the fan off to the side and got slightly covered in dry ice. he did not get to the a second flying lap.

franco did tho!

and here were out qualifying results:

p1: charles p2: oscar p3: carlos p4: checo p5: george p6: max p7: lewis p8: fernando p9: franco p10: alex p11: ollie p12: yuki p13: pierre p14: nico p15: lance p16: daniel p17: lando p18: valtteri p19: zhou p20: esteban

oh ho ho but we werent done yet. because pierre gasly got disqualified from qualifying. for failing fuel flow regulations. and lewis was going to have to start from the pit lane for changing his power unit.

everyone, and by everyone i mean oscar max and checo, pretty much said that charles was going to get pole no matter what, they knew this coming in and the best they were trying for was second

onto the race.

notably, this is considered a checo track. this was one of the three races that max did not win last year. because checo won it. its a track that he does well on, evidenced by the fact that he qualified above max in qualifying. so people were expecting big things from him.

and so, we head into lap 1.

charles managed to hang onto the lead. checo passed carlos straight out of the gate for third and max managed to pass george to take fifth. lando had managed to get ahead of nico and up into 13th. notably, franco held onto 8th and ollie was able to hold onto tenth.

someone who was not doing well was lance stroll, who came on the radio saying that he had a puncture. this was from contact with yuki. lance had to pit for fresh tires and was pretty immediately thrown to the back of the grid.

by lap 2 lando had managed to get past daniel and was in 12th, he was trying to get past yuki next, which he managed by lap 3. yuki also lost a spot to nico.

also slaying in the mclaren was oscar, who took fastest lap. then charles took fastest lap.

and lewis hamilton, who had started from the pit lane, was up to 16th. already. somehow. though he was displeased with the tires, sayig that “this tire is pretty bad” over the radio.

yuki meanwhile was clearly having a problem because he had started going very very slowly. thought the pit wall said that he had no problems. this would later turn out to be false but we will indulge them for the time being.

franco was STILL ahead of alex albon on lap 6. STILL.

lando on lap 8 managed to push his way into points positions, overtaking ollie bearman for 10th. though this was where things were about to slow down for him because in front of him were alex, franco and fernando, who were all very close together and would be hard to get past.

george was back in bad luck hell as a plastic bag entered his airbox. will he ever catch a break.

on lap 11 nico hulkenberg finally caught up with ollie bearman and passed him for 11th.

and max’s car was not working. to potentially no one’s surprise. “i have zero bite in the car” he said. and this was probably true because checo was a whole 6.5 seconds ahead of him. insane gap.

several pit stops later that i will not detail out because we simply do not have the time, alex albon ended up in 4th and lando ended up in fifth. and oscar was about to get undercut by checo.

“mojo seems to be back for checo perez” harry said, correctly.

mojo was back for him indeed. and now he was right behind lando.

and if you will recall, according to mclaren themselves, priority at mclaren is the team first, then oscar, then lando. but oscar was ahead of lando. so what did mclaren do?

they asked lando do hold up perez, but not compromise his own race.

remever a long time ago when i said mclaren wouldn't have any internal drama this season? man how i was wrong.

lando managed to hold up perez for around a lap or two before he got past. this was crucial because this was during when oscar was in the pits.

thanks to lando and the power of the papaya rules teamwork, oscar ended up coming out in 4th, only .706s ahead of checo.

mclaren are working together everyone! mclaren are working together!

meanwhile, turns out that yuki did indeed have problems because he retired on lap 17 with a hole in his sidepod from the contact with lance on lap 1. this was now two races in a row where he had had to retire for reasons out of his control.

several more people pitted. and eventually charles was back out in front, oscar was in p2. until he wasn't. no, he didn't dnf. he overtook charles! he was in p1! he popped out of nowhere! nowhere being 2 car lengths back and just flooring it to spring around charles like a little silly slinky! karun called it a “good, fair and robust defense,” which sounds like its descibing notes in wine. but this was not wine. this was the baku gp. and we were only half done.

ollie bearman was defending against lewis hamilton, holding on tightly to 14th place.

charles was still behind oscar and he could not get past, despite the fact that he was still very much in spitting distance. “they are pushing like crazy or they have more grip than us” he said.

carlos got past both lando and alex albon and was up into 4th

this brought max up behind lando. max was on 11 lap old tires and lando was on 24 lap old tires. but lando still defended like hell and managed to hold onto sixth. max was 0.632 seconds behind lando on lap 25 when he said that “my brakes are not working.” this was hardly a surprise. max has hated the car since china.

also experiencing technical difficulties was sir lewis hamilton. he was stuck down in 14th and was first told to do “everything you can do to get the surface temp down” of the tires. he said “im trying” then several laps later on lap 29 he came on the radio to say “are you seeing how i have to drive this thing?” “yes,” bono, his engineer said. “quite effective though.”

max was still half a second behind lando. mclaren faked a pit stop call over the radio to get max to pit. he did not.

but, george russell did manage to pass him. which was “not good for max’s world champion aspirations.”

this was also when ted very bafflingly said that “if i had a sofa in the pit lane i would be jumping up and down on it” im not sure what that was in response to.

meanwhile, ollie was still holding off sir lewis hamilton. and charles was trying to get oscar to pit again by lying over the radio. it was not working.

lando did a pit stop finally and came out a whole 15 second behind max. he was hoping to catch max by the end of the race. but it might be tight. lets go last lap lando.

“lando, imagine andrea on your shoulder saying ‘zero wheel spin’ in every exit,” lando’s race engineer said. if you're confused, everyone else was too.

10 laps to go and here were the order of affairs:

oscar

+.449s charles +1.865s checo +2.989s carlos +16.530s george +1.909s max +11.535s lando +9.715s fernando +2.589s alex +2.451s nico +4.667s franco +1.590s lewis +1.261s ollie +1.791s pierre +9.205s daniel +23.919s esteban +.789s lance +3.862s valtteri +3.631s guanyu

lando was determined. he took fastest lap on lap 43 and was 8.8s behind max

at this point, the leaders were starting to lap the cars in the back. “the back markers are starting to come up,” checo’s engineer said to him. “its going to get messy.”

“hold onto your hats and if you don't have one go get one and hold onto it” harry said. harry would turn out to be correct.

we had the top 3 all running very close to eachother, that was oscar, charles and checo and “welcome to the party carlos sainz!” who was now 1.2 seconds behind checo in the four way battle for the lead.

definitely not leading was lance stroll, who retired on lap 47 with a brake problem.

oscar managed to pull ahead of charles by 1.5 seconds, finally knocking him out of DRS range. so now it was a three way battle for second. and charles had “no rear tires. no rear tires at all.”

and, just like i said he would, lando managed to pass max on lap 49. he was closing the gap slowly in the championship.

“verstappen’s day goes from bad to worse,” harry said. because lando still had fastest lap, so he would score 3 more points than max. which is important if lando wants to beat max in the championship (though i think hes still like 60 points behind)

meanwhile! franco managed to pass nico hulkenberg for 10th! he was in the points!!!! at his second race!!!

but this was short lived because there was a crash! a big smackeroo! between carlos and checo!! checo was mad, carlos didn't know what happened.

what happened was that carlos was trying to pass checo but checo did not move over. it was deemed an equal fault accident. both of them were utterly confused at what happened and apparently spent 20 minutes in the medical center being utterly lost and aparently saying that sometimes this sport sucks. and! contrary to what several people said! checo did not bang on carlos’s helmet after the crash.

the crash actually caused chef's dad to have a heart attack. he is stable now.

and well. this clip of george from the post qualifying interviews definitely didnt age well:

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but! since we were a matter of a few laps from the end, this meant that the rest of the race was finished under a virtual safety car.

which meant

OSCAR PIASTRI WINS THE AZERBAIJAN GP

and george inherited p3!

and on his own merit too! no safety cars, no team orders, no weird shit!

“yes!” he whispered over the radio.

he almost fell getting out of the car, then gave us all the “one moment” hand gesture before properly celebrating.

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he also got driver of the day!

(this was marginally better than george russell, who said over the radio “i cant get any rubber (to pick up on his tires) all im getting is leaves”)

gunther steiner also hosted the post race interviews. which was interesting.

george said that the most difficult part of the race was “driving full gas into a wall of carbon fiber on the penultimate lap…the vsc should have come out sooner”

charles bashed ferrari because they didn't do any high fuel runs in practice.

oscar was entirely pleased. “i managed to overtake and hold onto it for the next 35 laps..one of the better races of my career.” and honestly, oscar winning a race straight after mclaren basically announcing that he was their number 2 driver is nothing short of hilarious.

and! mclaren was now leading the constructors championship by 20 points! for the first time in ten years!!!!

the top three had a moment outside of the car that was filled with baffled:

and oscar's engineer tom got to stand on the podium with him. he usually takes a selfie with oscar after each race he podiums at, but he was too excited to so george took this picture for them

(george also aparently demomished oscar in a game of uno on the plane, immediately humbling him)

george also shielded himself from the champagne on the podium

the cooldown room reacted to the crash in a very straight forward manner:

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and very quickly cause its midnight and the singapore gp starts in 8 hours, the post race, speed ran:

-mark webber told off laura winter for thinking that oscar didn't have good tire management

-alex albon was “super happy, that's a lot of points for us” (williams finished in 7th and 8th). he cut his own interview short when ollie bearman arrived, saying “I can go, im happy to go” and then waving comically.

-williams was so pleased with this result they blasted everyone with champagne. and they overtook alpine in the constructors championship! this was also their best race finish all season

-(and a quick note, if youre going to really blame logan for being that shit of a driver here, please remember that the car he was driving was several rounds of upgrades behind alex's pretty much the entire time he was driving it)

-ollie became the first driver to ever score points in his first two races for two different constructors because the double dnf pushed him up to 10th place. he said that there was not much difference between the haas and the ferrari, the ferrari was just red

-franco continued to charm everyone and flirt with the reporters.

-they interviewed george and lewis and the camera had to be adjusted for george's height. it was comical and resulted in my favorite edit so far of the season (sound on)

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-lando looked pleased and happy for once. he said about holding off checo that “i didn't hold him up i just had to cool my tires a little.” he was delighted to be leading the constructors for the first time in ten years and he defended alex albon saying “i struggled to get past alex for a while, which is common, alex doesnt make mistakes.” he also ratted on max for going to fast during the VSC and said “i didn't complain, facts were stated.” and to sum it all up he said that “im executing things well, i’m very quick…i’m not going to be the happiest guy, but i am never the happiest guy….car is performing well everywhere…some red cars behind us seem to be our biggest competitors right now”

-by comparison george insulted all of pirelli. the tire people. “pretty infuriating that it (the pace) changes this so much….its black magic, people who make the tires don't understand the tires…..for 20 laps we had a car not worthy of points and for 20 laps we had a car fighting for victory and the only difference is the tires.”

-lewis was notably upset after the race and walked through the paddock with his helmet on, not wanting to talk to anyone. but he did talk to franco and ollie and congratulate them on a job well done defending against him and racing against him. franco even fangirled over this on his instagram.

-charles was clearly upset with ferrari. he was so upset he posted a thirst trap.

-and oscar. oscar was very happy this afternoon. and his mom was there! she doesnt usually come cause it scares her, but nicole was there today!

-mclaren celebrated with a hell of a lot of champagne. both oscar’s wina and lando’s insane recovery, and the fact that they were leading the championship. red bull have been dethroned, at least for now.

-there was so much champagne that lando took off his socks to spray it. all seems well at mclaren.

-at least one thing is for sure, oscar had a better time here this weekend than last year when he got food poisoning and only ate four pieces of toast

and with that. we head into singapore. quite literally as it is starting in a few hours. again, i apologixe about this post. its a little sad, but the next one will be better. pinkly promise.

see you all soon!!!

#not a tag #from saph #saph explains silly season 2024 #im so sorry this is so late i am sooooo sorry aaaaaa #i will get my shit together #baku 2024 #Instagram #Youtube

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bakugoushotwife · 1 year ago

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kinktober day ten: breeding kink

>>> so i actually think he would be able to get his partner preggers but that's because i say so xoxo but also bc maybe ce doesn't affect the reproductive system?? idc if it does he deserves a family!

>>> starring: choso kamo x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: breeding kink thank you, pregnancy kink, choso is obsessed w his wife hours, oral (fem), creampie, >>> wc: 2.2k >>> event masterlist:

he’ll never forget the day you told him you were pregnant. it was something he had considered impossible, to the point he never bothered wearing a condom or cumming anywhere but inside you. seeing you pregnant only made sure those things wouldn’t change. you were already so perfect to him that it was almost unnerving, even all these years of marriage in. he fell in love with you the moment he met you back in shibuya, but somehow you had become even more beautiful to him.

he was obsessed, almost to the point of embarrassment, if choso understood the concept in regards to his love for his wife. but he wasn’t shy about being yours. it was all so new to him, the idea of fatherhood, viewing you as a mother, watching you change before his very eyes and all the long doctors appointments. he loves it though, oddly enough. especially the notion of being a dad and watching your body and mindset shift and grow.

choso can tend to be clueless due to his rather unconventional navigation of life, but ever since he learned how to work a cell phone, the internet has been his very best friend. unfortunately, yuji can give some very…troublesome advice. choso thinks it’s a miracle he’s still alive at times. so google can help in ways his earnest younger brother cannot, giving him multiple opinions and sources on what to do and how to do it. he spends hours of his time researching how to care for you; wanting to know if it was normal to be this attracted to you while you were all moody and pouty with just the start of roundness at the bottom of your belly—the jury was still out on that one, by the way.

one thing that was normal was your increased need for him, not like he was complaining. he loved this side effect the most, able to satiate his perverse desire to keep stuffing his already pregnant wife full, relishing in how eager and frankly nasty you had gotten. you were damn near insatiable, and choso thought he was in heaven for it. all through your first and second trimesters, you couldn’t get enough of him—and the feeling was mutual. as you grew larger and the house became cluttered with baby shower gifts and preparations for baby kamo, he continued to clock hours towards his family. he read article after article on parenting, actively assembling the nursery and searching up names with you. he was beyond joyful, still unable to believe that you were growing his son or daughter within that gorgeous body of yours, your breasts had started to swell and your hips had begun to spread. he loved every second of this: your neediness, everything about how you look while making him a father, and the way his friends circled around him and became such a supportive family.

his thoughts bordered on crazy, a haunting desire to keep you like this all the time, lounging around the house in your pretty maternity dresses doing nothing but being waited on hand and foot; relaxing while stroking your swelling stomach. it’s what suited you best, he thinks—stretched out along the couch basking in the rays of the sun beating in through the living room window, snacking on a fruit board he made you and baby. he’s nearly foaming at the mouth, your long robe-style dress clinging to all the delicious curves of your body; the light cotton seemed to outline your heavy boobs, tight around your semi-hardened nipples. it hugged your six-and-a-half-month sized bump, your other hand resting there protectively. choso was stuck in the moment, trying to commit every detail of you to memory. he almost didn’t hear your chortle of disbelief.

“you said what, now, babe?” you whip your head towards him, heart fluttering violently at what he uttered— you needed him to say it again. it was easy to grow addicted to your husband, building his spawn had you needier than ever. even the smell of him had you going absolutely feral level insane even though this pregnancy had been the highlight of your life so far. you thought your clinginess and desire was driving him to his own insanity, figuring he must hate tending to you and your attitude as of late. you must have just heard him incorrectly.

“huh?” he blinked, violet eyes refocusing on your plush lips speaking to him. “what did i say?” he asks, just as confused as you are. his cheeks darken anyways, as if you caught him doing something naughty, which only makes you believe your ears were in fact not deceiving you.

“you said you should keep me like this all time.” you chuckle, full on tilting your head towards him from your spot on the sofa. he averts his gaze as soon as you meet him, and you let out a teasing fake gasp. “my husband wants to keep me barefoot and pregnant, huh? you know that’s pretty outdated…”

he shakes his head, embarrassed immediately. great, now you thought he was some sick perv, which isn’t completely off base, he guessed, but still! it wasn’t like that, he didn’t view you like some machine built only to churn out his kids and cook him dinner!

“n-no! i mean—you look great like this, b—”

“i’m just fucking around, love. i thought it was sexy.” you grin, throwing a wink his way. he clicks his tongue at you and huffs at the teasing, even though he’s definitely intrigued by the latter half of your sentence. you arch your brow, waiting for him to ask for clarification. you could see him fighting it in his head before your very eyes. the scrunch of his nose tells you that you’ve won.

“yeah? what’s that supposed to mean?” he says from his spot in the recliner nearby, always opting to be close to you. you smile knowingly at him, humming in thought mostly for the dramatics.

“mayhaps i enjoy the idea of you keeping me pregnant…especially if i get spoiled like this every time.” you giggle, shrugging a little bit. “maybe i’ll feel differently after i actually have this one.” you pat your tummy affectionately, and he thinks he may be drooling. you always play so coy, but he can see the way you rub your thighs together and the clouds that darken in your sunshiney eyes. he may be regularly clueless, but the one thing he knows all too well is your body.

“hm, i think it’s because you’re a sex-crazed maniac now and know pregnancy gets you off the hook.” he deadpans, though his heart is beating rapidly in his chest and in his cock. you call his bluff, rolling your eyes viciously.

“isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black.” you huff, spreading your legs out on the couch in a silent command. he smirks, not at all caring that you caught him. he nods a bit, holding his hands up.

“got me. i just didn’t know how much i would love this.” he says, the husk in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. your thighs press together when he obeys your body language, rising from his seat and making his way to the couch. he sits at your feet of course, smiling so sweetly. his warm hands gently pry your knees apart, and you wonder if he knows just how seductive the look he gives you is. his chin is angled down, hooded purple eyes singing a siren song that makes your legs fall apart again and your fingers pull at the tie keeping your dress together. he growls at the sight of your exposed body, his hands rubbing trails from your knees to your hips and down your thighs again. “you’re so perfect…can you blame me?”

you roll your eyes but wear a stupid grin at his praise, shaking your head to his question. you knew better than to be insecure over your changing body, especially with all the extra attention it’s garnered you. truth be told, you had never felt more beautiful, the life growing inside you breathing new life into your own appearance, and your husband never missed an opportunity to make you feel like a goddess amongst mortals. he would never dream of making you uncomfortable or asking you to accommodate him, so he folds himself into the space he has so that his face hovers above your shiny middle. his breath alone makes you moan, a hand flying up to cover your embarrassment. you always react like you’ve never been touched before and choso loves it almost as much as the sight of your round stomach and even rounder mounds above. he brings his thumb over you, wanting to watch you as he draws slow circles over your hardened clit. he hums, a little smile on his face as you jerk and squirm. your hips buck into his mouth instantly with cute whines slipping past your lips as your hands struggle to reach for his collarbone length black hair. he leans up a bit to help you, just the feeling of his rough thumb pad against your need turned you into a mess within seconds.

“nngh–oh choso, feels so–mmph good already.” you gasp, hands dropping to fondle your aching breasts. he nods and sits up to spit a warm and fat glob on your cunt, his thick thumb dragging it all over your spasming need. the lewdness of his action coupled with the nonchalant way he watches, tongue poking around your hole like nothing ever happened, has your brain spinning without much effort. your hips drive into the relief he offers, chasing your orgasm like you’d never before experienced one—despite the clear proof otherwise. he allows it, never in his life would he keep you from feeling good. he’s honored to be the one who causes those pretty sounds to fill the room, to be the father of the child making your beauty so ethereal, to be the man tongue deep in your perfect pussy. “gonna–ohhhh–”

your sweet release coats his tongue, his thumb still working you down slowly so he could relish in the face you make from sheer pleasure. he sits back up, a little more comfortable on his knees as he leans over you to give you a sloppy kiss filled with your own essence. he’s had to be much more careful since you’re getting bigger, but he doesn’t mind making sweet love to his beautiful baby mama. you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping his mouth against you while his hands are busy freeing himself from his sweatpants. you gasp into his mouth when you feel his length parting your folds and prodding at your hole. he only nibbles at your lip to tell you that he’ll be gentle, sheathing himself within your wet warmth slowly. you tense around him and relax, sighing happily at the feeling of him rocking into you at a tender pace. he moves his kisses to the sides of your cheeks, your jaw, picking up his speed until he has to sit back up properly to angle himself right.

“more, you’re not gonna break me daddy.” you pant, hand braced on the ridges of his defined abs. he sighs begrudgingly, only because he’d been repressing the same urge ever since you welcomed him inside. he relents, lifting one of your legs to rest against his hip before driving into you a bit harder. you moan wildly and nod, nearly screaming. “god—just like that.”

“anything for you mama, s’cute you need it hard, such a good girl letting me get a little rough.” he grunts, squeezing the hold he has on your thigh. you feel so different, still so tight and warm but with a different kind of wetness. he’s a mess too, championing himself with that nickname you bestowed upon him. his strokes are so well-timed, letting you feel every drag of his cock against you, the tip of him nailing the spot you need him most. “so perfect. you gonna let me keep this pretty hole bred?”

you nod, the words sending you close to your tipping point. you shake your head, too gone to speak to let him know that you were going to cum. you don’t have to tell him though, he can tell from the intense fluttering of your sloppy cunt, and he’s happy to have lasted this long trapped in your clutches. you’re slapping at his stomach, legs shaking around him as you scream again, the sound so primal it sends goosebumps prickling along his skin right before he’s stuffing you full as if you weren’t already carrying his seed. you squeeze down on him, making sure he empties his balls in you. he stays there until he goes soft, and then he slumps against the side of the couch. your giggles make him perk up, his violet eyes cutting over to see you crawling towards him with a mischievous glint to your eyes. he knows he’s right when you swing your leg over his lap, angling him back inside you.

“don’t worry—just wanna sit on it.” you titter, wrapping your arms around his neck again, pressing your body as close as you could for a hug. he twitches from sensitivity as you lower yourself back over him, but a smile spreads across his face all the same.

“how many kids can i give you, mama?” he groans in your ear as his arms tighten around your waist securely.

#jjk x reader #kyleewritesjjk #kylee's kinktober event #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #jjk smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso smut #choso jjk #kamo choso

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footygirl114 · 3 months ago

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Fuegos Artificiales (Alexia Putellas X Reader)

So Part #3 to this one, we are getting somewhere with these two but there is sooooo many unanswered questions ;)

Let me know what we think and if we want part 4, and what we want to see next?

Previous Part

As she finishes yelling at you, you can see her body deflate almost like she had been holding that in for awhile. Before your mind has a second to process any of it you watch as she reaches up and wipes a tear that had fallen from her eye. Its like your body is on auto pilot as you move closer to her, place both hands on her cheeks and you use your thumb to wipe another tear as you guide her to look into your eyes.

“Alexia look at me” you softly start waiting till you know you have her full attention. “I am right here, I am safe and right here in front of you” you continue to softly remind her as you pull her into your arms, guiding her head into your neck.

The next few minutes you continue to softly whisper reassurances in her ear, while rubbing her back. You finally start to feel the tears slow down on your neck and you can feel her getting her self together. All you can think about is how much you missed her smell, and the feeling of her being in your arms.

After a moment she pulls back and looks into your eyes and you know whats coming next. She breaks eye contact and whispers a soft “I can’t Y/N” and she turns and gets in her car and you are left standing there watching her drive away.

The role reversal doesn’t go unnoticed by you and you can understand a bit what she was talking about when you did the same thing 8 years ago and left her standing watching you leave.

The interaction plays on your mind for the following week, you don’t see or hear from her during that time, but both her mom and Alba had checked in on you a few times. You had been picking up a few extra shifts at the station to try and keep your mind occupied, which lead you to today. You were working the front desk, and it must have been a fun moon cause it was busy with the crazies coming in to complain.

You were currently dealing with an older lady who claimed she had proof of an alien spacecraft landing on the beach and kidnapping people. You had been trying not to laugh and when she tells you she has video proof but tells you to wait a moment while she finds it on her phone, you have to look away.

You take a moment to look around the room again and when you hear something from the two teenage girls sitting not too far from the counter looking at something on their phone it piques your interest.

“did you see Alexia Putellas has a girlfriend now?” the one girl asks the other, this sentence is what caught your ears and keeping one eye on the older lady looking for the evidence and the other on the two girls you continue listening in.

“no way, she’s always so private how do you know?” the other one asks her friend who said the original statement.

“Look she’s clearly making out with someone in this photo!” the original girl exclaims and moves to show the other girl her phone.

“holy shit! Isn’t that the singer she’s been rumoured to have been dating?” the other one asks her friend.

You can see the nodded answer and your heart drops, but before you can react the older lady has finally found the video she claims to have. Pulled back in to helping her lodge her complaint, then working for the next hour with multiple other complaints you finally get a second to take a step away from the desk.

You duck into the locker room, and immediately you open google and search if what the teenagers were saying was true. When you spot the pictures, they are grainy and clearly taken from the paparazzi but you would recognise Alexia anywhere. When you make this realisation you can feel the disappointment flood your body, you were half hoping it wasn’t true but seeing it on a picture you know its true.

Being gone for 8 years you know that this was a strong possibility, that she would find someone else. You just never really expected it to happen just as you came back, you had seen that she was never photographed or connected to anyone before but now that your back of course she was. When someone else enters the locker room it knocks you out of thought and you move to go back to work, but first you shoot a text to Alba asking to meet her for drinks later.

When you get off off of work you head towards the place you agreed to meet Alba at and when you walk in you have to laugh when you see her sitting at the bar clearly flirting with the bartender over the bar. You decide to have some fun with this and you walk up to her and slide your hand across her shoulder pulling her into you with a “hi babe.”

She looks up at you with a smile and says “Hola Hermana” and you can hear the cough from the bartender listening to the exchange.

You pull back and whack her arm and say “you are a jerk.”

She winks at you and turns towards the bartender and asks “another round for me and my sister, and when you are off shift I will be here waiting for you” finishing with a wink.

The bartender smiles and moves off to make the drinks, you settle aside her and state with a smile “you haven’t changed a bit Albs, I missed you.”

She answers with a smile “I missed you too, we all have.”

“I am not so sure your sister has though” you smile and nod a thank you to the bartender when a drink is dropped off in front of you.

You watch as she takes a sip of her drink and then she turns full towards you and says “Y/N, I need you to listen to me okay?”

Nodding you say “i am listening.”

“Alexia loves you, she has always loved you and that has never changed. I know what happened 8 years ago, and she was an idiot but she has suffered for all those years living in the what ifs, but the one thing that has never changed was how much she loves you.” she says all this firmly and makes sure she is looking into your eyes the whole time.

Taking a moment to take it in, you take a sip of your drink and you say softly “I think I will always love her Albs.”

“I know you will, and she still does too.”

Before you can chicken out you open your phone and show her the article you still have open and you place it in front of her as you tell her “she’s moved on Albs.”

She looks at the phone with a chuckle and she says “no she hasn’t, they’re friends and sometimes they hook up when they’re both in town. Trust me they are not an item.”

“oh” you say softly.

“Y/N she loves you, and I think you both just need to talk” she says to you.

You shrug and say “I’m just giving her space right now, let her get used to me being back in town.”

“fuck that Y/N, you need to talk to her” Alba says firmly.

“Nope, I wont force that on her Albs” You say again, and you finish off your drink and you stand up, pulling out enough cash to cover both your drinks. “I gotta go Albs, I am on shift again in the morning, but thank you for meeting me” You finish and lean over and give her a hug and press a kiss to her temple when you pull away “I appreciate you Albs.”

“Always here for you Y/N, and I mean it when I say I am so glad you are back” She smiles at you.

“Bye Albs” You say as you walk away, and when you turn at the door you see she’s already back to flirting with the bartender and you cant help but to smile to your self as you head out.

A few days later you were walking into a nightclub after Alba had called you and told you that you had no choice but to come out with her and a few friends to let off some steam. You were never good at saying no to Alba, which is why you were dressed the part and you weren’t too upset about having to be out past your bedtime.

The desert didn’t allow for much time to let loose and dance, and one thing you loved to do was to get lost in the music and just dance. Walking through the throngs of people you moved towards the VIP area where Alba said she would be and you can feel the spanish beats and you know it should be a fun night to let loose.

What you should have done was to ask who would be there, but you secretly hoped you would be able to spend more time with Alexia, so you didn’t ask. When you lock eyes with Alexia you cant help but to feel slightly giddy at the chance to spend more time with her.

“Y/N!!!” Alba screams when she sees you and she comes up and pulls you into a hug.

You smile and squeeze her back and you let her pull you around the group and introduces you to most of her friends there, you settle in the booth across from Alexia when Alba pours you a drink. You sip on it and make small talk and when the music becomes more dance music you meet Albas eyes and you both bee line it for the dance floor.

You let the music move you, eyes closed dancing with Alba and a few of her friends who came with you to the dance floor. When the music slows down you blink your eyes open and you immediately look towards Alexia, her eyes are dark and locked on your body as she remains seated in the booth.

Your body heats up and you keep moving to the beat while keeping your eyes locked on Alexia’s. A few songs go by as you keep your eyes locked with hers and you keep dancing, when you finally have enough you move your hand out and gesture for her to come out on the dance floor. When she doesn’t move you gesture again and she stands up and moves towards you.

When she’s within arms reach you move to grab her and pull her closer but before you can she recoils and basically runs off the dance floor towards the bathrooms. Without thinking you follow her down the hall and you grab her arm before she can get into the bathroom.

“Alexia wait” you plead with her.

She shakes her head and says “you cant just come back here and do this Y/N.”

“do what?” you ask dumfounded.

“this Y/N, it is not fair to me” she says firmly.

You let her go and take a step back and ask softly “what am I doing Ale?”

“you left Y/N, everything is not the dame.” she says and before you can respond she darts out the hallway and you watch as she disappears into the crowd. You stand there conflicted, unsure what to believe. Alba says she cares, Alexia’s actions prove she doesn’t want you to try. Shaking your head you shoot Alba a text that you were leaving and you head out of the crowded club.

You spend the next week confused and when you are in this state of mind the best thing you can do is throw your self into work and avoid the thoughts swirling in your head. It also means you were avoiding Alba and any of her scheming, wanting to figure out what you want to do first. When Eli calls you and invites you to the families celebration to watch the upcoming fireworks you are left with no choice when she all but tells you that you have to go.

When you walk into the park you agreed to meet at, you at least are surrounded by people and some of their extended family, you stick close to Alba and try to not make any eye contact with Alexia either. The evening goes pretty smoothly and you settle on the blanket with Alba and Eli to watch the fireworks. Alexia is sitting with a couple of the cousins in front of you, which means you can watch her without her knowing.

You were so distracted by everything and your thoughts you didn’t think about the fact that there would be live fireworks going off. When the first one goes off you are prepared and you jump slightly but you remain okay, Alba reaches a hand over and rubs your thigh when she feels you jump and you remind yourself where you are.

When another cluster goes off in succession, you can feel the flashbacks trying to fight their way in, and when you meet Alba’s eyes you smile at her. The next one goes off and you know you need to get out of there. You stumble up and when they look at you with a concerned face you smile and mouth ‘bathroom’ before turning and moving further away.

When you get past the crowd of people you stand there trying to figure out your next move, so caught up in your head and trying to fight the flashbacks you don’t hear Alexia approach, but just like when you were younger you can feel her. She places a hand on your lower back and when you meet her eyes you can see the concern in them.

She smiles at you and you get lost in her eyes, but when another round goes off you jump again, and the flashbacks start creeping in.

Before you can get lost in them, she says “Y/N, here put these in” as she hands you her AirPods.

You look at her with a question and ask “what?”

“Put the AirPods in and come with me” she says firmly. You place them in and she turns the music up and she pulls your hand to follow her. She takes you behind a wall, where its mostly covered from the flashing lights and she pushes you to slide down the wall and sit.

She sits beside you and places a hand on the back of your head scratching her scalp, which is something she knows calms you down immediately. Her other hand reaches over and grips your hand squeezing every so often. You keep your eyes closed and listen to the beat in your ears and focus on the feeling of her touch.

Unsure how much time goes by you come back to it when the music stops and you look over at her and she smiles and says “its over Y/n.”

“Thank you for doing this Ale, Im so glad you had those AirPods on you.” you chuckle.

She smiles and says “I brought them in case you needed them Y/N.”

“You did?”

Nodding she says “I figured it might be too much for you.”

Smiling softly you say “you’re very sweet.”

“I want to help you Y/N” she says softly.

You realise how close you are and you lean in and you feel her breath on your lips, you go to close the distance when you are startled by kids running by your hiding place screaming. She pulls back with a smile and stands up holding her hands out to help you up.

“We should go find my family.” she says once you move to follow her.

You follow her back to her family and all you can think about is how much you want to have that happen again, how that maybe she wants it to happen too.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #woso imagines #woso x reader #woso imagine #espwnt x reader

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hellishjoel · 1 year ago

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playing hooky

9.2k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter l Next Chapter

summary: Frankie calls in sick for his shift. You simply must investigate.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), mentions of reader previously being on her period, smoking w33d, getting h!gh, swearing, pet names (angel, princess, etc.), handjob if you squint, oral (f! receiving), unprotected p in v, h!gh sex, aftercare, tangled feelings/messy emotions, sitcom vibes

A/N: tune in next time for a special halloween episode of Table for Two!

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“We’re not at the diner right now, y’know? We can,” he pauses to find the right words, seeming to get lost in the beautiful hue of your eyes. “We can take things slow. Wanna take my time with you.”

You purse your lips as you scribble another drawing on your order pad. You’re sitting at one of the empty barstools at the counter, one leg lazily swinging back and forth while the other is brought up under you.

“You’re gonna get hip dysplasia.” Carla, your sarcastic manager, hums as she passes you. She playfully smacks you with her own order pad before she settles down beside you, a loud and tired sigh leaving her ruby-red lips. She rolls her swollen ankles, a side effect of being on her feet all day. A side effect of being alive.

Your eyes lightly screw together, eyebrows knitting in curiosity. “I thought only animals get hip dysplasia.” You trail off and watch her sit with slight confusion. She parts her lips and takes a breath before her face contorts in thought.

Finally, Carla reemerged with a new confidence. “No, baby, because my cousin- my second cousin,” she illustrates all of this with her hands. “They were born with it! I swear, look it up.”

You stifle a giggle before you both hover over your phone in search of the truth via Google. That’s when you clock the time.

Your head swivels to the wall clock and confirms it’s half an hour past five in the evening. “No Frankie tonight?” You ask, eyes still attentive to your phone as you attempt to try and hide any obvious interest or concern. Where the hell was he?

Carla eyed you up and down. Since when did you start caring if Frankie showed up for his shifts or not? She decides not to press it, clearing her throat as she moves off her barstool once she hears the doorbell chime, a new customer sauntering in.

“Just said he was under the weather. And we don’t need another sick line cook, that’s for damn sure. Everyone would be coughin’ and sneezin’ over their undercooked bacon and runny, nasty eggs.” She said with a little umph at the end for distaste.

You sigh and nibble on your thumbnail.

Frankie was a bit of an ass, but he made the shifts go by faster. Yes, even before you started fooling around, he was entertaining.

Let’s see, there was the night he tried to see how many coffee cups he could stack and if he could make a tower to the ceiling - he tried this multiple times, and each attempt left glazed ceramic shards everywhere, to which Carla made him sweep up.

There was another time the diner needed supplies, and Rudy, the owner’s son, sent you and Frankie on an errand run. He pushed you in the cart through nearly the entire store, in search of toilet paper and paper towels, dish soap, and other amenities. Frankie bought you a Redbull at the end of it.

Now, more recently, Frankie fucking pavloved you! Like a damn dog! Every time you worked a shift, you got ferociously horny. You had gotten so used to clocking in, working for a bit, then getting your needs met. And now that you had finished serving time being on your period, you were needy for what you missed while you were surfing the crimson wave.

Your foot, more anxiously now, taps against the metal stand of the barstool you were sitting on, huffing in annoyance hearing that Frankie was ill. The pit in your stomach was already coiling, searching for a release that just wouldn’t be satisfied tonight. Or would it?

You’re not in the back kitchen as much as everyone else, but as the end of your shift wound down and it was nearly ten o’clock, you decided to piece together a panini and a side of fries for Frankie. You thought about how he learned you weren’t feeling good just last week, and he knew how far a simple meal went to make you feel better. Maybe you could do the same for him. And that was it. You swear there were no ulterior motives. Just a nice coworker bringing a bite to eat.

You yank your phone from your uniform. Your fingerprints smear your phone screen with grease from the fries.

text me your address if you’re still up

frankie (work) Huh?

You have to will yourself not to roll your eyes.

read the first message again and ask me if you’re still confused

frankie (work) Okay sassy pants 194 Rivercrest Apartments #501

His stupid reply leaves a broken, twitchy smile on the right side of your mouth. Stupid asshole.

Once the restaurant closes, your clunky car takes you across town to Frankie’s apartment. Your gleamy, tired vision catches the streaks from passing cars and street lamps. You pull into a visitor parking spot and let out a disgruntled sigh as you sit in silence, waiting in your idling car.

A weird part of you is nervous. Overthinking. Was this taking it too far, helping him out while he’s sick?

You push aside any nerves and force yourself out of the car, a death grip on the doggy bag of food you had packed him. The evening Texas air tickles your bare legs, trying to adjust your uniform under your jacket after it got smushed around in the car. You buzz his number before you hear the entrance’s lock click, allowing you in.

Glancing around for an elevator is hopeless. The entrance leads you straight to a set of stairs, and you clench your jaw in annoyance. God dammit. You were not a woman who prayed to the cardio gods.

Your lungs feel strained, and your feet ache, desperate to sit down after your shift and the mild hike up to Frankie’s apartment. You rap your knuckles against his door in disdain, lips parted with a few light pants for breath as you wait. The door had a few random dents and marks, obvious trails of someone moving items in and out of the apartment over time. The numbers on his door were crooked, the paint chipped. Did he have to live in such a sketchy place? It looked like the birthplace of tetanus.

There were a few heavy footsteps on the other side before the door jangled open. And a very healthy, Frankie opened the door. Your face fell, and your eyebrows furrowed. A heavy whiff of weed smacked you in the face, and you swore it nearly gave you a contact high, even from the hallway.

Frankie was all too happy to see you here. You drove all the way to his apartment just to see him. His face was dripping in a smirky grin. He barely fit through the door frame, his large broad shoulders and tall stature filled the entire rectangular entrance. He crossed his arms and leaned one shoulder against his door. He was perfectly fucking fine.

“Hey, princess. Surprised to see you-”

Your lips purse and your eyes screw tight as you smack him with his bag of food. “What the hell-” smack, “is wrong with you! Fuckin-” smack, “asshole!”

He’s slow to defend himself at first, letting you exhaust your hits as you fist the brown paper bag in annoyance. Finally on the last hit, he swipes the bag from your hand and sighs. He’s trying to dial down his stupid smirk, but it ends up turning into this stomach-twisting, sweet smile.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and chew on the inside of your cheek. “Carla told me you were sick.”

“I am sick.” Frankie playfully defended, standing straight and shrugging his shoulders with a half-innocent smile. “Sick.. and tired of working.” He laughs at his own joke, and you bite back a smile. Such a fucking dork.

You’re at a weird standoff outside of his apartment. It’s like he’s holding your invitation to enter over your head, and out of your reach. He wants you to ask. You want him to ask. You’re both so goddamn stubborn. You cross your arms and stand straight, eyeing him down.

Frankie rolls his eyes, his smile breaking into a larger one as he grabs your wrist and pulls you inside. “So fuckin’ difficult.” You hide your smile as your face lightly glides against his chest, unintentionally inhaling his scent. By the looks of his hair, he was fresh from a shower.

Frankie closes the door behind you, and his front brushes against your back as you stand in the tiny entrance hallway to his apartment. Music was playing deeper inside.

His hands gently settle themselves on your arms, slowly coasting his warmth up and down your goosebump-covered skin. You inhale slowly, your back lightly resting back against his front. He was so easy to sink into. But then you remember how he bailed on work today, and you jut your elbow into his gut. He lets out a puff of air at the force you hit him with.

“You’re such an ass ditching work. Ditching Carla.” You say as you step away from him and invite yourself further in, exiting the dark hallway and working your way further into the apartment. “We had to make do-it-all Paul step into the kitchen. Do you know how terrifying that is? Such a dick, Frankie.”

“And you’re so sweet for bringin’ me food.” You hear him rifle through the paper bag, digging out his packaged food, and seeing him smile at the contents. “Thanks. You shouldn’t have.” He brushes past you and towards the kitchen while you stand in the living room.

You didn’t concern yourself much with Frankie up until recent events, it was odd to see his evil lair. Okay, he wasn’t evil, but you know what I mean. You take in as many important details as you can while you slowly peel off your jacket and toss it on his couch.

It’s quaint, really. He has no other furniture in the living room besides a couch, which you feel is by design. It sits perfectly opposite his mounted flatscreen. The walls are plain beige but are decorated with band and movie posters. You admire one that was purposely framed, unlike the others, with signatures. You didn’t recognize the band, but by their look, they seemed like an 80s rocker group.

Below his flatscreen was an impressive vinyl collection, a record spins, and you recognize it as the melody you initially heard upon entering. It was serene, jazzy almost.

“This is what you listen to when you’re alone?” You tease, kneeling down and flicking through a few album covers to see his taste. It was expansive, to say the least. There were only a fair few that you recognized. TOTO, ABBA, Billy Joel, Bruce Springsteen, Metallica, a little Van Halen, and a whole lot of The Beatles.

Frankie sucks the salt from the fries off his fingers, seeing he’s already munched on half his panini. “It’s something I listen to when I’m stoned.” He half-jokes, a slight smile on his face. So that’s what he’s been up to.

“You called in so you could lay around your apartment and get high all day?” Your tone is playfully judging, but he gives you a proud nod, not a care in the world behind those slightly glazed eyes.

“I didn’t really lay around all day.” His tone is softer since you’re both so close. He’s standing just to the right of where you’re kneeling down, your head could lay against his thigh if you wanted. “I was trying out some new recipes and shit.” He mutters as he points a thumb behind him and to the kitchen. You glance up and notice his pretty curls in the light. You don’t often see him without his hat or his bandana. Come to think of it, you don’t really see him outside of his yellow-stained apron.

Your eyes slowly took Frankie in, seeing him casually for the first time outside of work was startling. He was big. Tall and broad, with squishy thighs and a soft tummy, strong arms, and defined biceps. He was comfortably relaxing in a pair of black basketball shorts that landed just above his knees, eyeing a few tattoos by the hem. On his upper half was a tattered, well-loved Lakers shirt with a small tear at the shoulder, which has since been sewn closed. He had a little bracelet on, one of those leather brown ones that twisted around his wrist, accompanied by a spherical, multicolor beaded one.

Your eyes linger for a hair too long, and now he’s already smirking at you. “Like what you see, princess?” God, that stupid fucking nickname needed a break. Heat shoots up your spine nonetheless, and you have trouble staring daggers at him like you usually would.

You huff a breath through your nose and stand up on your feet, raising your eyebrow at him. “What do you mean you trying new recipes? You can actually cook?” It sounds rude and sarcastic, but you thought Frankie just goofed around at work and cooked for the cash, not as a hobby. You slowly make your way past him, eyeing his kitchen in the process.

There are recipe books, honest to god recipe books. Big ones, small ones. Different categories of food outlined on the covers and spines. And his kitchen was a chaotic mess, with multiple cutting boards of varying sizes across his already limited counter space. There were bright-colored vegetables cut up and diced, the scraps having been tossed in a spare plastic bag sitting on the sidelines. There was an open bottle of soy sauce and another for sesame oil, a little tin of cornstarch, and diced chicken sizzling in oil on a frying pan.

You take a few steps in further, your sneakers landing on linoleum as you really smell what’s simmering in a large skillet. Mushrooms, bell peppers, green onions, broccoli, and peas are cooking in a thick sauce, coating them amidst freshly minced garlic onion. Your lips part as you inhale, and you can’t believe it. You don’t even know what it is, but it smells heavenly.

You finally have to ask, because hunger is carving a hole in your stomach. “What are you making?”

Frankie parks his hands on his hips and looks at you with knitted eyebrows. “What? You’ve never had stir fry before?”

You purse your lips and reach for the spatula, looking to Frankie for reassurance, to which he nods his head. Go for it.

You smile as the vegetables sizzle once you push them around on the pan, relishing in the attention as you allow the other less glazed vegetables to catch some heat from the burner. Frankie hums, like he’s debating something, like he’s learned something from his little experimentation. He reaches past you, his front brushing against your shoulders as he reaches around you and adds a little brownish-amber liquid to the pan. It sizzles, splashes, and dances across the different vegetables, which makes you grin.

You were never big into cooking, especially since you started working at Tommy’s Diner. You’ve seen enough grease to last a lifetime. You were fine settling in on the couch with a bowl of cereal and a glass of cheap wine. You saved making extravagant dishes for when you had a date over, and even then, that was risky.

But there was something about Frankie actually knowing how to cook cuisine that you liked. “I didn’t know you knew how to make dishes besides burgers and fries.”

He sneers and rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling the entire time and lets you continue slowly shifting the vegetables around, watching as the glaze sizzles. “I didn’t know you cared enough about me to visit me at my apartment. We’re both a bit surprised tonight.” This was your worst nightmare.

“I only came here under the impression that you were sick-”

“So you came to my aid?”

“Psh,” You huff, “You wish. But no.” You insist more forcefully, setting the spatula down and turning to face Frankie, who is all too close to you. You lose a lot of your angry traction as his hand finds your hip, feeling his fingers flip to the stovetop’s burner switch to a lower setting.

His hands navigate you away from the oven, your back flushed against his counter now. His eyes trail you, grazing over your body as his hips now plant you in one spot. You swallowed a lump in your throat, your still resisting hands planting against his chest. You can feel his cock twitch against your thigh.

You can’t explain why your fingers twitch and start to clutch his shirt, pulling him a little closer. Stupid Frankie with his goading smirk, bringing his forehead down against yours. It was so hot in his kitchen, in the middle of summer. You feel a bead of sweat sprout behind your ear and lightly glide down your neck as you flutter your eyes closed. It wasn’t often you felt your power to resist him rendered useless, but tonight you felt like he had a quite literal home-field advantage.

“You want me to stop?” He asks, voice low and lust-drenched. His leg parts purposely between yours, jutting them open and spreading what was his.

Your throat is closed off, the lack of air draining from your busy head. “I..” Your words fall off, distracted by something scampering through the living room.

“Do you have a cat?” Your eyes light up as you slink past Frankie. He found your stray of attention a bit adorable, despite being given a slight case of blue balls.

You carefully padded out of the kitchen and into the living room, using the excuse to slip off your sneakers at the entrance. The small orange cat had curled up onto Frankie’s couch by your tossed jacket from earlier, forming a perfect circle amongst all of its tangerine fluff. Its eyes were closed serenely, absent of a new presence. It was fucking adorable, in short.

Frankie was still flummoxed in the kitchen, adding the cooked chicken into the stir fry before turning the burner off and putting his masterpiece aside. “That’s Leo.” He announces, Frankie’s voice carrying annoyance that he lost a sure thing in the kitchen. Now you were cooing over his cat.

He settles two bowls on the counter and adds the stir fry to each, a few splashes of the sauce splattering around the rim of the bowl. With two forks randomly stabbed into the piles of food, he walks one of them out to you. “Could have eaten this whole thing by myself.”

You smile, taking the offering and humming as you flop on the couch, the orange tabby finally peeking its eyes open. “I don’t doubt that, so thanks for sharing.” You recognize how he had eaten the panini and fries, and he was still excited over the stir fry. Poor guy probably had the munchies like crazy.

With the kitty taking up one of Frankie’s couch cushions, he’s forced on the end with you in the middle. He sets his food aside on a spare side table and reaches for a small pipe, your breath pausing at the sight. “You want a hit?” He asks.

His face glows orange as he flicks on the lighter, spreading the flame over the green, now black, substance in the tiny bowl. He inhales, and you watch in mystification as he takes in the smoke filtering through. Your heart thumps harder in your chest, the right side of your mouth twitching up in a sly smirk.

Let’s smoke weed with Frankie Morales tonight.

He lets out a labored breath, the smoke flying loosely in the air and creating hazy grey circles that flood the ceiling before disappearing altogether. The stench fills the small apartment rather quickly.

“I get really weird dreams after I smoke.” You whisper, biting down on your lower lip as you glance down at the pipe he’s holding, a small glow still coming from the weed.

“It’s still lit if you want some.” His voice is low from smoking, and you have to clench your thighs closer together. Damn this stupid uniform, you wished you would have brought a change of clothes so you’d at least be comfy eating stir fry, petting his cat, and getting stoned with him.

He raises the piece in an offering, and you look to him for one last look of reassurance. It’s polite to be offered free weed, especially since he’s the one who paid for it. He gives you a nod and looks at you with furrowed eyebrows. Are you crazy? If you want it, take it.

So you do. And you smoke it. And you pat yourself on the back to do so without coughing. It’s a small hit, but you don’t need much, your brain already feels like it’s as light as a cloud, dancing in slow motion. You giggle by accident.

Frankie lets out a sputter of laughter, watching you get high with him is a bit comical. “Princess knows how to smoke. Kudos.”

You let out a puff of laughter through your nose and grab your warm bowl of stir fry, stabbing into a green pepper. “Shut up, Frankie.”

He ends up putting on a show you both agree on, something comical that makes you both laugh your high asses off. You eat the stir fry and almost forget Frankie is the one who made it. It was delicious, you ate everything down the the finely chopped green onions.

You both shared another hit, and you felt like you were loosening up. Any need to hold onto control slipped through your fingers. Any issues you had been dealing with drifted away. And you realized how stupidly happy you were to be beside Frankie. Trying to do anything of actual initiative went out the window after your second hit. You both found yourselves on the floor of Frankie's room, sat side by side, heads resting on the edge of his bed as you both stared up at the ceiling and spoke gibberish.

“Aliens?” He asks, your thighs brushing.

“Of course.” You hum, slowly blinking in a gentle haze. “Ghosts?”

He sighs and takes a long time to answer, which apparently offends you because you snap your head up and look at him in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious. If you believe in aliens, you have to believe in ghosts.” You argue as you stare at his fan.

He lets out a throaty groan, closes his eyes, and runs his hands down his face. His curls are pretty. They haven’t been run through a million times yet or smothered by a bandana or hat.

“I think… I do believe in ghosts. I just don’t want them to bother me.” He says, a weak smile on his face.

“What? Like you’re afraid to be haunted?” Your head lays back on the bed but rolls over, watching his profile while he continues to look up absentmindedly at the ceiling.

He’s silent for far too long. Finally, he rolls his head over to face you, your noses lightly brushing. He’s so close that looking at him feels a bit cross-eyed.

“Wait- what? Sorry.” He finally says with a broken, short laugh.

“Can you focus?” You ask teasingly, pushing your hand up against his cheek and making him stop staring at you.

You take the soft silence as an opportunity to rest your hand lightly on his thigh. He does the same, except he feels the warmth of your skin and the material of your uniform. Goosebumps form shortly after, and you smile shyly up at the ceiling.

“Have you…” You start to say but trailed off, bashfulness overcoming you.

“Have I what?” He asks. You both blink slowly as a car’s lights flash through his window only for a few seconds, lighting up the dim room before it is filled with darkness again. The moon and an orange lava lamp was the only source of glow.

You distractedly look away from him, admiring a tapestry on his wall and his soft comforter. “Have you had sex with someone high?”

He shrugs and slowly smiles before gently nodding his head against the edge of his bed. “Yeah. Have you?” His head rolls over to look at you again. You feel his warm gaze, but you just keep your eyes locked on his ceiling fan.

Warmth and a subtle shyness flush across your chest, your thighs nearly trembling in excitement. “No.” You whisper.

He doesn’t say anything, but he watches you for a few moments.

“Want to, though.” You finish, feeling a knot slowly grow in your stomach.

Frankie’s eyes flick to your long lashes, then down to warmth creeping up your neck. “Yeah?” He asks.

You gently nod, too, eyes still too shy to meet his own. “Yeah-”

He doesn’t let you get out one more syllable. His large hand comes up and meets your cheek, guiding your head to meet his gaze.

Frankie kisses you deeply but at a slow pace. And you’re feeling a desperate hunger to have him. You eagerly cup his cheeks in return and swing a leg over his lap, intensifying the kiss as your hands glide down the landscape of his clothed chest, bunching up his shirt in the process. You feel like a horny jackrabbit, but it’s really all his fault. You can feel his half-hard cock as you grind the center of your pelvis over his own, whimpering into his mouth desperately.

“Take care of me,” you whisper, and it ends up sounding a little more like a desperate, whiney plea.

Frankie’s lips part against your own, feeling the neediness of your touches. His hazy vision peers open, breaking your kiss for a moment.

“Hold on, baby,” He sits up a little bit against the bed, his eyes scanning yours with a certain deepness.

You pause, your chest heaving lightly as you regain your breath. “Frankie, come on, don’t make me beg.” You say as you lean in once more, but he catches your face and pauses your movements. You feel like a deer in headlights, static tingling in your ears as you feel a sudden rush for embarrassment. Why wasn’t he just as excited? Or eager? Or desperate? Were you the problem?

Suddenly, your eyes were dashing around for an escape. Then he speaks your name. Soft, gentle, careful. Hear him out. You swallow your pride and stay seated over his lap.

You can’t help but let an awkward chuckle escape between you, eyes having a hard time meeting his. You playfully scoff and smack his shoulder lightly to regain a sense of control. “Shut up, Frankie.”

His head cocks, and he looks at you with that stupid fucking smirk. “You don’t know how to take it slow, do you?”

His words antagonize you, and your eyes light with fire. A defensive fire, because he was right.

Slow meant feelings, slow meant experiencing, slow meant bonding. You weren’t slow. Sex was supposed to be fast, hot, desperate, counting down the seconds until a sweet escape, racing to an orgasm, chasing it like a fever dream. You weren’t good at slow.

You hate that Frankie has learned this about you. Giving up the upper hand wasn’t in your caliber. And you find yourself frowning as you look down at him once his smirk washes away. He’s looking at you like he cares. Even with you both stoned, brain’s hazy and light, he sees through all that and looks at you like he gives a damn.

He lightly shrugs his shoulders and softens the hold he has on your face, his thumb gently stroking along your cheekbone. “Can show you.”

Hesitancy screams across your blank face, but he reads you better than anyone else. He speaks your name, more genuinely explaining his offer. “Let me teach you.”

You let out a gentle sigh, slowly giving in to temptation. Because having him at all was better than not. So you take it slow. Frankie teaches you zen. Teaches you how to melt.

One of his hands falls from your cheek and lands on your waist, gently stroking your hip in a soothing slow circle. It feels like heaven.

His brown orbs dip close, and you let him take the lead. He kisses you tenderly, soft. His tongue lines your lower lip once he’s ready to lightly increase the intensity, begging your mouth for permission to part. If it was any other night, your tongue would be down his throat, and you’d be a grinding, sloppy mess in his lap. Let him teach you.

You take a deep breath in as your tongues tangle.

It almost makes you giggle again, because it feels stupid, but you sort of like it.

His stubble brushes your face, and you fight to release a moan. Frankie’s hand on your hip shuffles to your lower back, and you feel him add pressure. Your chest meets his, and you let yourself melt into him. His strong torso easily keeps you both up. Your heavy breaths hit the room, and you force yourself to pull away for air, despite how much you enjoy making out with him. He grins at the sight of satisfying you.

Frankie pushes a stray hair that’s fallen out from your loose ponytail behind your ear, smiling as his hands move to the back of your uniform. This will be the first time he actually undresses you properly, not just shoving the material up past your ass so he has access to your pussy.

“You know how to work the zipper?” You playfully ask as you settle your head on his shoulder, taking the slower moments to breathe and relax.

He stuffs down a chuckle and nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I think so. Am I doing it right?” He asks as he guides the zipper down your back, feeling your flesh exposed to the rest of his room.

You purse your lips and slowly sit up in his lap, watching him take in a deep inhale as your centers brush lightly. You hide your coy smile as his eyes light with excitement, but he’s made a point to be slow with you. You guide the sleeves of your uniform down to your hips, exposing your breasts to him. Giggles leave your mouth as you wiggle out the last bit of your dress, Frankie is more than happy to help you.

“I’m feeling a little alone here.” Your voice is soft, tugging at his shirt before you push it up just past his pecs. Your high ass got a little distracted, staring at the hair sprinkled in dark trails across his torso, feeling him struggle in his shirt as he laughed.

“Focus, princess,” his arms tangle with his shirt before he tosses it off, especially since you started slacking. You shyly smile and flutter your eyes down to his warm body as your hands explore the landscape for the first time. You had yet to undress each other like this, you sort of liked it, especially with this whole slow and steady thing going for you both.

Frankie leans back against the bed, admiring the sight before him. You feel a little awkward, goosebumps rushing up your arms as you shyly smile and playfully push his face away. “Stop staring, perv. You’ve never seen a pair of tits before?”

He’s quick. “Not a pair that nice.”

You smile and crack out a laugh, knowing sex has never felt this casual before. No pressure. Good vibes. And it’s not just because of the weed. It’s because it’s Frankie. And he looks at you like you put the sun in the sky and you could do no wrong. But then he starts staring at your tits, and you realize he’s just another guy.

His hands caress your waist, thumbs dipping into the curves and appreciating the way they run up you like beautiful rivers. You decide to do the same. Your hands slip lower, letting his happy trail guide you to his black mesh basketball shorts. His rough and calloused hands cup your tits, taking them in his palms and giving you a tentative squeeze. He’s figuring you out, what you like, what makes you squirm and whine. As soon as he pinches your nipples between his thumbs and pointer fingers, a broken gasp is elicited from your mouth.

“Shit,” you curse breathily. Everything was a bit heightened right now, including your sensitivity. It felt like a million little strums were being played, making your spine shiver and your head grow foggy. And you were determined to make him feel the same way.

You bite down on your lower lip, fishing your hand into his shorts and fisting a hand around his already hardening cock. A smirk tangles on your lips as he lets out an earthy grunt, low to the ground and heaven to your ears.

You start a bit fast, eager to please, wanting to see him tremble for your touch.

His lips meet yours in a distracting manner, rocking your steady pace. “Slow.” He murmurs against your lips, and you gently nod, a shy smile spreading from embarrassment.

“Slow.” You whisper, your lips brushing his. Your ego trips on the power you have over him, fisting him, his heavy length weighing in your hand. You couldn’t even fully wrap your fingers around him, he was all just… girth. Your body ached for him, needy for the feeling only he could satisfy by being inside of you. His tip trickles with precum, and a low moan drips off his tongue like honey. It fuels you.

“Spit on my cock, princess.” He grunts out, his face leaning in to capture one of your nipples in your mouth. You squeak lightly in excitement before doing just as he asks of you.

You angle your head over your centers, letting a long line of saliva puddle down onto him. It meets the strokes of your hand, and Frankie’s jaw twitches as he squeezes your breasts involuntarily harder. You let out a long whine as your nipples form peaks between his fingers, feeling your heart thrum against your chest.

Frankie likes how you look on top. Back arched, chest pushed up, messy hair falling loose, eyes lit with an eagerness and curiosity for him to teach you the method of going slow. Admiration mixed with respect. He feels like he’s dreaming.

All he can imagine is you like this, bodies in sync, riding his cock. Tight walls milking his cock for everything he has. His skin becomes riddled with goosebumps, thinking about your nails digging into his chest, your tits rocking up and down, how he would tumble out moans of your name and squeeze your hips with adoration. Yeah, he’d like to see that one day.

He’s not sure how much longer he can last with merely your hand on him.

“C’mere, baby.”

A gasp of surprise jumps from your throat before you can stop it, Frankie managing to stand up off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist for security. His strength, how easily he lifts you and shuffles you around like a ragdoll spurs white hot heat in your stomach. You were going to fuck him good if you ever got past the going slow part.

His smirky mouth meets yours in a hot kiss, one heavier than before. Like he’s needy for you. Your eyes melt closed as your fingers wind into the pretty curls that were formed at the nape of his neck. Your back meets his mattress and blankets, your fingers dance along the pattern, your high mind hypnotized seeing Frankie on top of you.

His body rests between your parted legs. You whimper into his mouth, feeling his hardened cock resting against your core.

“Take my fucking panties off,” you beg more than you mean to.

Frankie tries not to sneer. His teeth capture your lower lip, and you mewl out a moan before he lets you go.

“To hell with going slow.”

You hastily nod, feeling his fingers grip your panties at either side of your hips before he shuffles them down. You whine with how the sticky center stays latched to your core, he gently peels it loose with a hellish smirk.

Frankie’s heart thrums against his chest and echoes into his ears. Hearing you desperate for his touch was heaven, he felt undeserving to have such an angel vying for his attention. “So wet f’me, barely touched you, princess.”

He discards your panties to the side, off on the floor with the rest of the clothing you both have shed. You’re completely naked together, makes you a little nervous.

Frankie promised to speed up, but you’re finding harmony in the way his soft lips trail down your body, leaving wet prints between the valley of your breasts to the soft skin of your stomach. Your breaths come out heavier, thighs shaking as he drops back down to kneel at the edge of the bed. His hands grip your thighs and yank you impatiently closer to his eager mouth. You whimper as your body is shuffled closer, your fists that were clutching the sheets being torn away.

You giggle as your thighs shake around his head, feeling those perfect kisses move between the warmth of your legs.

“Fuck,” you finally let out, excitement seeping through your bones. Frankie’s stubble drags across the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, and again, you feel that heightened sensitivity that makes your stomach roll.

Frankie decides that dragging out the teasing is enough. He wanted to taste you, every mile, every inch, every centimeter.

Your core glistens in his eyeline, begging to be touched, kissed, fucked. He can’t help but dive in. His dopey brown eyes meet yours as his face disappears lower and lower before he’s past the valley of your tits, and all you can see when you crane your neck are those mocha brown eyes.

His tongue tastes you, and divides your folds, as he laps up your juices.

The feeling is exhilarating, like the rise and fall of a roller coaster.

A gasp riddles its way up through your throat, concaves your chest, and your pupils blow wide in excitement. Frankie enjoys your taste but aims to pleasure. His mouth latches onto your sensitive clit and suckles, his tongue intervening every few swipes to flick across your clit. Rise.

His large hands grip the outside of your thighs, pinning your lower half to his mattress, and lapping over you in a heated race to the finish line. Your face contorts in pleasure, fingers drifting down your stomach before you wind them in Frankie’s hair. He growls against your pussy, you’ve never felt your blood pump faster. Fall.

“Fucking- Christ,” you push out, gripping his hair strands tighter and making him grunt hot heat against your core. “Feels so fucking good- oh my god,”

He pulls away for a breath and sucks a love bite into the sensitive flesh of your thigh until it swells pink and purple. One of his hands on your outer thighs wraps around the shell of your body, playing with your clit. He slowly shakes his head as he looks at you. You wonder if he shares your hazy vision. The pleasure makes you feel like you’re seeing double.

“Christ isn’t making you feel good,” his words make you whimper, “I am.”

You quickly nod, but you realize your body can’t move quickly under the influence. You’re just hazily bobbing your head, your hand in his hair dropping to his strong bicep.

“Frankie, I need you,” you plead as you gently sit up on your elbows and cup his cheek, wiping your glistening slick off his pretty bottom lip. “Need you inside of me.” You whisper, a desperate look splashed across your face.

You hated how much power he had over you. He almost just made you cum from playing with your clit. You need him biblically, fully, flesh and blood, blood to bone. It was carnal, primal.

He doesn’t need much further convincing. Frankie preferred to pull an orgasm from going down on you, but he listened to your needs and what you wanted.

His lips meet yours in a hungry kiss, working you further up the bed and letting you collapse into his pillows. Your eyes catch the sight of a dream catcher while his tongue tangles with yours. You flush at the taste of your own arousal. That’s when you realize his hand is still between your thighs and working soothing circles into your clit.

You whimper as he adds a tad bit more pressure, and you feel the white-hot heat of adrenaline making your stomach pool even more excitement into your tummy.

“Frankie,” you whisper softly, and his forehead rests over yours while he guides his shaft to your center.

He lines his tip up and down between your folds, your jaw dropping as he sickeningly uses your slick to lube himself. He lets his entire shaft rest against your sex, and he does slow thrusts back and forth, lining his entire cock with you. Holy fuck. A shiver was sent up your spine, goosebumps parading across your body.

Your chest swelled for him.

“What do you say?” He asks in a taunt, knowing how weak you are.

You huff and move your hands up his arms and hang them loosely around his shoulders. He complies in moving in closer.

“Please.” You finally admit between gritted teeth, which makes him grin.

“Alright, princess,” his forehead now rests against your temple, cocking his chin down to get a better angle of your centers. He guides his tip to your entrance, slow and patient, before he notches himself inside of you.

Your eyelashes flutter, and you watch as his eyes clench closed. He likes to act all tough like he wouldn’t fold for you, but you know he would time and time again without having to say more than a simple please.

Both of you share unsteady breaths. It feels like a dam is giving way inside your chest.

Frankie thinks how he has never been inside a tighter pussy, squeezing the last bits of air from his lungs.

Your walls pulsate around the intrusion, but your dripping core and his wet tongue from earlier allowed him to slowly push in, inch by inch.

You swallow a lump in your throat. You don’t realize your eyes are closed, and you're gripping him around the neck to keep him close until he sponges a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Alright?” He forces out. It’s like you’re choking him, and it makes you twitch up a smile.

“Mhm,” you muster up, feeling his chest rumble lightly with laughter.

“Baby,” he whispers, and your chest surges at the pet name. “Can’t breathe.” Oh, shit. You damn near had him in a headlock.

You loosen your grip around his neck, shyly smiling as your desperate hands look for something to ground you.

Frankie stays flushed inside you but shifts to be more centered over your body, gently resting his forehead just above yours.

“C’mere,” he whispers before he takes your hands. You decide not to question why he interlocks your fingers. But it feels safe, and you’re still high, so you’ll blame any poor decision-making on that.

“Fuck me,” you finally grit out, desperate for him to just fucking, “Move.”

Your whine is met by him reeling back his hips, only for him to plow right back into you at an unforgiving rate. A gasp ripples through your throat, and you feel like screaming. Your entire goddamn body was on fire with the way his girth parted your walls, splitting you open. You let out a string of whimpery moans, and your eyes glared desperate daggers into him.

“S’what you wanted, right?” He grunts out, jaw tight, pretty curls falling limply in front of his eyes and crowding his forehead. “You wanna be fucked hard, is that it?” He can barely speak authoritatively, you’re squeezing him like your last lifeline.

But he’s right. Tears cloud your vision, and you weakly nod as desperate puffs of air leave your pretty parted lips. “Yes,” you squeak out, relaxing your hips so Frankie falls into you more.

“Feels so fucking good, can’t-” An eager cry leaves your lips as he pulls himself out, just to thrust right back in and rocking you further up his bed. Your chin tips to the ceiling as you curse every god, man, woman, whoever the hell created Frankie Morales.

“Can’t what, princess?” His tone is lower, sinister even as your walls twitch around him but only gush out more arousal for his cock to slide in and out of you.

You find it hard to string together syllables. So he squeezes your hands that you’re holding for dear life. He stills inside of you until you answer.

“Shit,” you whimper.

“Can’t what, angel?” He probes again, cocky asshole waiting for his answer.

You whimper and peek open your eyes. The right side of his face is highlighted silver from the moon, your hazy vision thinks he looks like an angel. His hand wanders between your centers and finds your throbbing clit, making you cry out the answer. Your face crumbles as you own up to what you need to say.

“Fuck! Fuck, Frankie! Can’t go without your dick,” you pant out as he subtly rocks into you at a good pace upon your confession. “Can’t even go- can’t even go a week without it,” you admit in defeat.

That stupid, cocky smirk of his graces his parted lips. It’s crooked and perfect, and he’s fucking you like your life depends on it. Because it does, you think.

His thighs clap against your ass, pounding you into the bed, drilling you into place, suffocating the air from your lungs.

Your vision goes hazy, seeing white, then rainbow, then stars. They cloud your vision, and you’re not sure if you’re still high off the weed anymore. Or just high off Frankie.

You whimper strings of his name tangled with profanity, he’s still filling you to the brim. It once seethed hot with pain, but now your stomach is contorting in pleasure. It’s like he knows exactly how to crack your vault, penetrating your walls, unlocking something deep inside of you that no one else manages to know the code.

His messy fingers continue to circle your clit, and you know your end is coming.

Frankie’s grunting with every thrust, moaning a symphony of your name every chance he gets. He likes holding your hand, resting his sweaty forehead against your own, listening to you beg for his cock, for your finish. It’s the only thing he wants to give you. He’d be at your every beck and call if you let him. He wouldn’t mind if the only thing he ever got was a fraction of your praise.

Frankie’s thighs clap against your ass, the sound echoes around his bedroom. If his neighbors didn’t know his name, they did now.

“Fuck! Frankie!” You cry out, feeling every inch of his cock massage your insides. His tip kisses your cervix, and your jaw drops. Nothing more comes out of your mouth, so your blown-out eyes do all the talking.

I’m so fucking close.

“I know, baby, feels good, doesn’t it?” He grunts as his balls slap against you. “Feels good having my fat fucking cock inside you, huh?”

You shake under him, your thighs clench around his hips, and you pray to the gods for making Frankie. You take back what you thought before, you need him.

You don’t care that he’s a little older, that he’s an asshole, that he eggs you on.

Because in the shelter of his bedroom, locked in your embrace, he swallows your name and persuades you into pleasure, time and time again.

Your clit tingles, and your walls furiously clench around him. Finally, your mouth finds words to try and elaborate on what you’ve been holding inside.

“Fucking- shit! Fuck me harder, right there- fuck me, Frankie! God- I’m coming!” You cry out as his pants fill your space, fanning across your face. He fucks you harder and faster as you near your orgasm, wanting to help you reach it. And he gets you there.

Your back arches, and he groans lowly as he stills inside of you. It’s almost beautiful the way you cum in unison.

Your hands hold his tighter, and he reciprocates by squeezing gently. I’m right here, I’m here, baby.

You’re not sure how long you lay there, still. Your hips get a little achy. He feels you twitch and knows it's time to let you go.

A gentle whimper leaves you as he pulls out. You feel a bit empty, a little cold.

His sweet laughter makes you peek open your eyes. He’s trying to move out from around you, but you haven’t let go of his hands.

You shyly let go, and both of you squeeze your hands to flex the knotted muscles and stiff knuckles. You close your legs and lightly curl up. He doesn’t come to rest, he gently pats your outer thigh once or twice before he disappears to his bathroom.

You think he couldn’t have been gone for more than thirty seconds, but he comes back in a fresh pair of boxers and his basketball shorts, his tanned torso still exposed for your viewing.

“Frankie,” he pauses like a deer in headlights as he stands up from grabbing your panties. “I’m gonna… spill.” You finally pitch out, a bit embarrassed.

“Oh,” he says, feeling like an idiot. He circles back to the bathroom and grabs a towel and a wet washcloth.

“Sorry, my brain is all-” he starts to say, but you quickly shake your head.

“I know me too. S’okay.” You whisper with a smile as you weakly sit up on your elbows. The record playing in the living room had stopped. He shimmies the towel under your hips before he aids you with a clean washcloth.

Feels too domestic, so you take over, much to his annoyance. You wrap yourself in the towel once you’re done, and sit up to retrieve your uniform. You dread putting it on.

“Can I take the towel for the way home? My underwear is still too..” you trail off. Soaking wet was the words you would have used.

Frankie’s face screws up in confusion, his eyebrows knitting together.

“You’re going home?”

Now your expressions match. “Yeah?” It sounds more like a guess than a statement. “What else would I do?”

Frankie shifts back and forth on his feet before he sits down beside you on the bed. “Dunno. Stay here.”

You take in a hesitant breath, and he feels it. “You shouldn’t drive home, you know. You’re stoned. And tired. Don’t need you falling asleep at the wheel or some shit.”

You frown. Staying here does sound nice. Thinking about going down those five flights of stairs with your jelly legs sounds like a walk to hell.

But there’s a certain rule about sleeping over. One you don’t want to cross. You and Frankie are just fooling around. Nothing more.

“I don’t know, Frankie.” You say with a small frown, tightening the towel around you even more. His sullen look deepens at your words. He doesn’t want to overly convince you. If you want to go, he doesn’t want to stand in your way.

You chew on your bottom lip and weigh your options. You don’t want to go down the stairs. You’re tired as fuck, and you don’t want to get pulled over or something else. And you really don’t want to put your uniform back on. And you want to stop trying to put issues in your own way when you really just want to stick around. But the decision is made for you.

“Stay.”

Your eyes meet his. He’s more certain now, going after what he wants.

“Stay the night, it won’t kill you. I’ll get you something more comfortable to wear, and you can just…” he trails off and shrugs.

“Stay?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. He nods.

You sigh loudly but inevitably smile as you point to his closet. “I need a shirt. Please.”

A big smile glides across his face, and you can’t believe you’re the one who put it there.

“Alright, princess, whatever you say.” He squeezes your thigh and stands up, his back to you as he fishes through his closet and smells a few shirts to see how clean they are.

You roll your eyes and sigh as you fall back into his pillows.

You change into something clean, you hope it’s clean, and end up curling into a protective ball under his covers.

His cat, Leo, circles up by your feet, and you coo, gently stroking the pretty fur along his back. Frankie retrieves two glasses filled with water and hands you one. You instantly take a few gulps before your hand gently strokes down the shirt he’s put you in. It swims a bit on you, but you like it. The hem hangs at your thighs.

“Can you get in here?” You ask impatiently. “M’getting chilly.” You whisper with a coy smile.

Frankie blows out a few candles in his living room and finishes putting away any leftover stir fry.

Your high has worn off, and now you’re just a sleepy little thing. A long shift plus getting railed would be your new nighttime sleep aid.

Now that the apartment is drenched in darkness, he pulls back the covers and moves in beside you. Cuddling was not an option. He spoons you, yanking you halfway across the bed and out of your little ball. His warm flesh meets your back, and you hum at the feeling. He was a furnace. His head settles above yours, you feel the stubble gently poke at your hair. Your eyes are already closed as his arm wraps around your waist, an affirming hand settling on your tummy. He must need skin-to-skin contact because his hand slips under the shirt he’s put on you and settles on the warm skin by your belly button.

You let out a short little laugh. “You do this with all the girls you sleep with?”

“No.” He quickly says, and your eyes peek open.

“No?” You ask curiously.

“No. Just all my coworkers I sleep with.” You roll your eyes and reach around to slap the back of your hand against his hip, forcing out a chuckle from him.

“M’kidding.” He somehow pulls you closer. Your head rests comfortably on his bicep, the cold tip of your nose warmed by his flesh.

Questions pour out of your stupid brain. Were you the only one he was sleeping with? If you weren’t, who else was there? Was this normal to him, cuddling after a friends-with-benefits situation? Did Frankie want something more?

You sigh and close your eyes, attempting to shut off your brain as your finger lazily draws shape on his forearm.

He murmurs a goodnight against the shell of your ear. You blame how happy and comfortable you are right now on his cat. And it somewhat makes you feel better. You never pictured falling asleep beside your coworker, let alone Frankie Morales.

Sleep eventually overcomes you. You dream of Frankie sitting in a bowl of stir fry like a hot tub.

---

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wonwoosthetic · 7 months ago

Note

when will we get a new chapter for minnie 🫶🏼

a/n: now! ˙ᵕ˙ this was a request sent to me through my Google form, so thank you to whoever wrote it🤗 I hope you guys like the quick little chapter!

series masterlist

warnings – pregnancy scare, short mention and implications of infertility, jokes and mentions about sex

word count – 4.6k

summary – minnie gets a little scare and there’s only one member she can think of to call

pairing – minnie & vernon (mentions of wonwoo x minnie x mingyu)

Better Safe Than Sorry 🌷 Minnie

Minne was in a panic. For the past two hours, the girl hadn't found a second of rest, pacing around the apartment, trying to keep herself busy before the thoughts running through her brain could catch up with her. Vernon was supposed to be here 10 minutes ago, only adding to her anxious state. Wonwoo and Mingyu were at the gym, thank God, she thought to herself.

The past few days, or more so even two weeks, had been... interesting. It started with a headache spanning over multiple days, only for it to turn into a migraine. Or so she thought. Throwing up, going to bed as early as possible, and sleeping in for as long as she could. Something was not right. Add the random heat flashes she had experienced the week before and Minnie started speculating. The moment she realised that her period had been a few days late made her shut down.

It was so secret that women in the industry encountered irregularities with their cycles as stress and diets dominated their lives. But Minnie and the entirety of Seventeen were in a good place. None of them was totally overworked at that point, thanks to their new contract. Diets were, thanks to the need to fit into the impossible beauty standards, still a topic of discussion but they were doing fine. Right?

It was one night out that made her mind spiral. Rapidly.

Minnie was enjoying a dinner with her closest friends from school, having made a reservation in one of their favourite restaurants a week ahead to make sure they'd get a private room. Food and drinks were passed around the table, discussions and conversations were flowing and laughter filled the room. Everyone was having a good time. When it hit that point of the night where people were slowly starting to leave, say their goodbyes and make promises to meet up again soon, the female singer was left with her two closest friends from that group.

Léon, once a boy too afraid to show his true colours, is now a proud man with a husband waiting for him back in their new hometown in Spain. And Hana, the legend of a best friend who had gifted Minnie her first vibrator, and now the owner of one of the most-visited clubs in the nightlife of Hongdae.

The two were well tipsy while Minnie had held herself back a bit. They were still giggling at one of their friends who had stumbled through the door as he exited, the multiple shots of liquor clearly taking over his body.

"You look a little paler than usual," Léon suddenly commented, glancing at the idol with a slight frown, "Are you okay?"

"She probably just got a new IV infusion for extra light skin," the other girl joked, getting a chuckle out of the singer. Hana had never been a fan of the idol life.

Minnie shrugged, her finger circling the rim of her glass, "I've been feeling kinda off."

Her friend downed the last shot on the table before turning to her in confusion, "How off?"

Minnie sighed, "I've had a headache for like... a week now. And two days ago I was throwing up all day. Even yesterday and today when I woke up I felt like I had to puke..." The two friends were eyeing her carefully, letting her speak freely. "And then I had some random, like... heat flashes?" She glanced up to meet their eyes, "I don't know what the hell that was, but... yeah... something's going on, I don't know. But I don't want to provoke it with alcohol."

"That," the guy of the group leaned back, eyes now wide, "does not sound good."

"Yeah, but it must be something with my immune system. My period's also God knows where."

"You missed your period?!" Hana gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Girl-" Léon eyed her with a surprised expression, but Minnie was quick to stop them.

"No, no, no," she waved her hands, "It's not like that. I've missed it before, but it... it's a weird coincidence."

"What do you mean 'not like that'? That sounds a lot like being pregnant to me!" The tattooed girl hissed at her.

That was the first time she had heard the word out loud. Of course, it had crossed her mind. Just like every other woman. The moment her period was late, the first thought to come to her was 'shit, what if I'm pregnant', only to dismiss it a second later at how ridiculous it sounded.

"No, I-... we have the tour and we're preparing for a new album, and it's just... stress or something."

"But you've been stressed before. Way more stressed," the guy in front of her commented. "I don't want to scare you, but... you know..."

"If there's anyone that could be pregnant, it's you, Min," Hana casually told her, leaning back against the cushioned seats.

Minnie frowned as she glanced at her. "What the fuck do you mean?"

"No one's getting laid like you," she laughed, making the other two at the table chuckle and Léon threw his head back in glee.

"Oh, shut up!" The idol exclaimed, "You've got a line of men waiting for you to call them back after leaving their apartment in the middle of the night. And that's just from last week."

"That's not true!" Hana pointed her finger at the girl. "You get two dicks on a regular! Every day, I bet!"

"It's not every day!"

"Every other day then," the only guy quickly commented before their discussion could get any louder.

Minnie shrugged, "Yeah... so what?"

"My God," he chuckled with a shake of his head, "I'm jealous. Honestly." Making the girl laugh out loud.

"No, but seriously," Hana stopped the two, letting silence wash over the table once again. "Have you thought of it?"

"No! Because..." Minnie went quiet.

"They're not using condoms. Don't lie to us," Léon glared at her, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Hana faked a gasp, "You slut."

"You're not even using them on strangers!" Minnie pointed out, only for her friend to slap her hand away.

"This isn't about me!"

"Whatever..." the singer mumbled, her eyes back on the glass. It was still half filled with the mix of Soju and beer she decided not to finish.

"Okay, but seriously," Léon started again, "Could there... be a possibility?"

"For one, I'm on the pill," she explained, noticing her friends opening their mouths to argue, so she continued, "I know! I know that's not 100% safe, but it's... very safe-"

"I don't know about very safe, to be honest," Hana went back to nursing a glass of water. "My mom was on the pill and look at me now," pointed at herself with a proud grin.

"Don't make me scared," Minnie mumbled as she fell back onto her chair with a sigh.

"We don't want to scare you," her guyfriend explained, letting the other girl continue,

"But take a test, just in case," Hana shrugged. "You know how many pregnancy scares I've had? Still, better safe than sorry." She ended her speech by finishing her water.

Minnie's gaze had landed on her lap, where her thumbs had already started fidgeting with each other. "I...," she started with a sigh but stopped herself again right away.

"What?" Léon wondered, keeping a close eye on the singer, but she just shook her head and brought the glass of alcohol up to her lips.

"Nothing." And downed the last bit.

Four days later Minnie was still fighting her stomach each day, going out of her way to try and get as little food and water into her system as possible, knowing it would only trigger her and make her run to the toilet. On the other hand, the lack of nutrition was most definitely also adding to the nausea. There seemed to be no way out for the female singer.

On the verge of tears, overwhelmed with emotions, she had texted Hana in the morning, begging her to go to the store to buy her a pregnancy test. She was still very much in denial of the possibility of her being knocked up, but there were too many signs... But then again, she remembered the conversation she had with her gynaecologist two years ago. The doctor had only let a few words fall from her mouth before Minnie realised what she was trying to tell her.

At the sound of the front door's bell, the idol's head perked up, a second before she was rushing to the door. Once she pressed the camera button, she came to face with the young rapper she had called and pressed to open the door downstairs.

"Thanks!" Came through the speakers as Vernon disappeared into the building.

For the next minutes it would take him to come up, Minnie tried to pretend to have to do something, just praying the time would pass by quicker. The tests, yes multiple, were already placed on the counter of the main bathroom's sink. Hana had arrived with two in her bag, along with chocolate and prosecco to celebrate in case they'd be negative. The alcohol was chilling in the fridge while the sweet treat was waiting for her in the cabinet, with her definitely enjoying it either way of how the tests would come out.

Another doorbell sound rang through the apartment, notifying the female member of his arrival. With a few big steps, she stopped in front of the door, pulling it open in a swift motion. A wide-eyed Vernon standing right in front of her.

"Are you okay?"

"I don't know," she mumbled, catching him off-guard as she pulled him in.

With a frown, the younger member stood right in front of her, shuffling his feet out of his shoes before he followed her down the hall.

"What's going on?"

She continued to walk in silence, only coming to a halt in the middle of the living room. Vernon stopped at the corner into the hallway, leaning against the wall.

"Alright," Minnie sighed, bringing her hands up in front of her, "Look..."

"Oh," the '98 Liner nodded, understanding this was going to be even more serious than he had expected. As if her call, asking him 'Can you come over? Like now? Just for a bit?' with zero explanation didn't alert him enough already, her stance certainly brought his heartbeat up.

"Are you okay?" He repeated his question, taking a seat on the edge of the couch, not daring to lean back in comfort.

The girl pressed her lips together, nodding as she avoided his gaze. "I-... I think so, yeah."

"That's not a yes, so that's alarming."

"No, wait-" she stopped him, "Just-... listen, okay?" Making him nod, so she could continue. "I called you because I know- or, at least I hope, you... won't judge me," his frown made her rush her words out even quicker. "And you won't overreact, because I- I don't even know if I really should be concerned, and honestly, I don't think I should be and if you ask me, I think it's impossible, and I'm overreacting, but some other people have made me think otherwise."

"Oh...kay?" Pure confusion was still written across his face. A beat of silence washed over the two as Minnie thought about what to say next. She was looking around the room, knowing there was no way out and she had brought herself into this situation.

She took one deep breath before blurting out, "I need to take a pregnancy test," pressing her lips tightly together again as she waited for a reaction.

Vernon's eyebrows shot up the moment the words tumbled from her lips. He closed his eyes for a split second, trying to take in what she had just said to him.

"Ehm... for... what?"

Minnie looked at him perplexed, "What do you think people take pregnancy tests for?" She knew sex ED in South Korea wasn't good, but she had hoped it wasn't that horrible.

"Well, I hope you're not gonna take it for the reason I think you might be taking it," he glanced up at her.

He called himself lucky to get to have her as an older sister despite only being born two months apart. Vernon and Minnie had been close ever since he became a trainee under Pledis, the older girl taking him in as a little brother in an instant. Over the years, she had realised that the lack of an age gap was starting to show as she found herself looking up at him more and more, mentally and literally physically as he had shot up in height. She had found herself looking for comfort in him, asking him for advice or even just listening to him. While some members were more physical when it came to showing their appreciation and love, Vernon kept himself in the background, choosing quiet acts of kindness as his love language, which she sometimes appreciated even more than anything else. But even with all the love the two had for each other, their sibling-like relationship was no secret and not kept behind closed doors.

"And what is the reason you're not hoping for?" She had crossed her arms in front of her chest, her eyes still unsure of whether or not to lock with his.

Vernon sighed and shook his head before glancing back up at her, now finding her gaze. "Do you seriously think you're pregnant?"

"No," she was quick to answer.

The '98 Liner rose from his seat. "Then why take the test?"

"Because!" Minnie started pacing around the room again, fixing her hair along the way.

"Because?" He nagged her.

The girl to a stop. "Better safe than sorry."

Vernon couldn't help but sigh again, "Minnie..."

"There's a 0.01 per cent chance-"

"Don't say 0.01 because if it really was 0.01 you wouldn't even think of taking one!" He pointed a finger at her, quickly realising the rude gesture and putting his hand down again. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Okay, then maybe a slightly bigger chance... I don't know..." the female member bit down on her lip as her voice quieted down. Her gaze was back on the floor. "I'm scared."

Her confession made the rapper look back at her. He understood the seriousness of the situation, yet he had never seen the girl that way before. On a night out with the group, they had found out about the first pregnancy scare she had had years before, but she acted differently about it then. Took it with a lot more humour. But now, the woman in front of him just confessed to being scared. And he was the one she had trusted to confront about it.

Vernon glanced around the room. He couldn't freak out. He was supposed to help her here.

"Don't be scared," he tried to assure her, getting up from the sofa to take a step closer to her. "Are you serious though?"

Fallen silent, the girl just nodded. After not getting a verbal response back, she spoke up to explain, "I just... I've been feeling kinda... off. It's weird," she brushed it off, "and I really- I don't think I am, but... what if I am?"

Vernon accepted her answer, taking a second to himself. "Okay," he took a deep breath in and out. "It's okay. You have a test?" He asked her.

Minnie nodded.

"You went out and bought one?" Not even trying to conceal the concern in his voice.

"No," she told him, passing him as she made her way to the bathroom. "Hana got two for me."

"Where's she?" The younger member was hot on her feet.

"At work," Minnie explained. "She bought them on her lunch break." She stopped in front of the door, turning around to come to face with the rapper.

Vernon lowered his voice. "Why did you call me?"

The female idol shrugged.

He was desperate at this point. It felt like the wrong situation to be in for him. "Why not... Minghao... or... Shua, or Coups-"

"Coups would have me on a leash and drag me to get me castrated the moment he heard the words 'pregnancy test'!" She defended herself, getting a slight chuckle from him in return.

"Don't know how that would work but you're probably right. He'd do it at the word 'pregnancy' already," he mumbled.

"And... Shua would be way too emotional and... I don't know... Hao too. They'd be so... careful around me and try to comfort me-"

"You don't want to be comforted?"

"Not right now," she shook her head and gulped as he met his eyes. "I called you because you're the only person I know who can just sit there and be there for someone. Without overreacting... or... freaking out. And I'm kinda freaking out, so I need someone with a cool head right now."

"Not gonna lie," Vernon confessed, "I'm freaking out a little though."

"But you're hiding it well."

"Ditto," he nodded at the female member.

Another moment of silence washed over the apartment. Minnie took a quick look into the bathroom, her eyes immediately on the two pink packages by the sink.

"It's basically impossible that I'm pregnant," she admitted. The wheels in Vernon's head started turning, thinking that it was never truly impossible, unless... but he decided not to question her further.

"But I had weird... signs, I guess. And Hana and Léon made me scared. I just wanna make sure."

The '98 Liner nodded along to her words, shaking his head even harder the moment she looked back at him. "Do that. Take the test. Or tests," he dramatically pronounced the plural form.

Minnie nudged her head after a second to take a breath. "Can you come with me?"

Vernon immediately frowned. "Wh- Into the bathroom?"

The girl nodded.

"Ew, no! I'm not gonna watch you piss, bro."

She rolled her eyes, "Don't watch me pee. Just sit next to me," pointing to a stool they had in the bathroom for whatever reason. "Hold my hand?" She batted her eyes at him, mostly to lighten up the situation, while holding a bit of seriousness behind her ask.

"Absolutely fucking not," he shook his head. "Go. I'll be right here."

She eyed him up and down, scrunching up her face. "You're not a real one."

Vernon's eyebrows shot up. "If that's the requirement, I'm good," brushing her off and pushing her to finally get into the bathroom. "Weirdo," he mumbled, getting a last glare. At least she hasn't completely lost her spark, he thought to himself.

The moment she disappeared into the room, Vernon was met with the silence of being by himself. It was only then he realised that he hadn't even asked her about Wonwoo and/or Mingyu. Thinking, if anyone should be there, it would be the two men in question. He passed the thought after a moment of debating, coming to the conclusion that she'd have her reasons. Even after her explanation, he was still slightly confused as to why she'd rather have him than them here with her. He decided he'd rather stay in the unknown rather than pester her with more questions. Right now, she needed a friend, not an interrogator, by her side.

Vernon cleared his throat awkwardly.

The duo had found their way onto the couch with the two tests placed neatly on the coffee table ahead of them, facing down so neither one of them could even dare to get a glimpse of the results before the timer went off.

"And... ehm...," he tried to pass the time, hoping to somehow soothe the nerves rushing between both of them. "So... if you were though, like... pregnant," he carefully wondered, seeing her almost flinch at his words. He turned to look fully at her, finding her already staring at him. "Would you... w-would you... you know...," Vernon let out a chunk of air, "know whose it is?"

The time he had to himself let his mind wander to places he didn't even want it to go, but he couldn't help it.

Minnie stayed quiet for a few seconds, the words hitting her clearly hard as her eyes drifted off him.

"Ehm...," she took a deep breath. "I... I- eh... I... no?" Lowering her head, her gaze was back on her hands intertwined in her lap. She gulped, "I don't- I don't think so, n-no..." The confession appeared in the form of a big lump in her throat.

While she was able to have her fun with the two men in her life, it was only now that she came across an obstacle like this. Of course, they had had conversations about protection, being careful instead of mindless, and consent. Yet, the topic of a possible pregnancy while still taking precautions seemed to have passed them.

Vernon nodded, his lips tightly pressed together. "Alright... damn...," he raised his eyebrows. "That- that's... wow, impressive... I mean- g-good for you. That's... good for you. And I- I mean not good good for you if you're pregnant, but, you know... good as in good for-"

"Vernon?"

"Yeah, I'm shutting up."

Not the time or place for a conversation like that, nor did she want to go into more detail about the couple's constellation in the bedroom with one of her closest friends, whom she considered her little brother. Neither did Vernon. But the silence had become dreadful.

Any other day, the duo would have no issue sitting next to each other in complete silence, yet, at that very moment, both wanted anything but to stay quiet. And finding a topic of conversation seemed more challenging than ever before.

The '98 Liner could see her shaking leg in the corner of his eye, unsure of how to comfort her well enough since it was the first time in a situation like that for him too. In an attempt to help her, he reached out and placed his hand on her knee, hoping it would calm her.

"It's okay," he quietly told her, turning his head to meet her clearly frightened gaze.

"Is it though?" She kept the conversation going.

He retrieved his hand again to turn the rest of his body to face her more clearly.

"You said it's... very unlikely." He continued to choose his words carefully, not trying to overstep and drag her into a hole she might not get out of.

Minnie nodded. "Yeah...," she whispered, hugging herself as if she was freezing. "Very unlikely, but... never impossible, right?"

Vernon shrugged his shoulder, "I think only you'd know that. If it's possible or not."

Whether they were talking about the act of conception or possibly rather the chances of her fertility would stay between the two.

The girl gulped. "It's unlikely. Very, very unlikely."

A quiet pat on her back gave her the validation and comfort she craved and asked for.

"That's why I called you," Minnie confessed after a short few seconds of quietness.

"Hm?" Vernon glanced back at her after his eyes had been fixed on his phone.

"You can just sit here. Accept it, without a big reaction. And I still feel comforted. You... your presence is very comforting."

The question as to why him and not the men that lived with her was still burning his tongue, yet he didn't even dare to let it fall from his lips. Maybe another time.

"I still don't think I'm the right person for something like this-"

"You are," she quickly reassured him. "I didn't even think of anyone else."

The truth was, were the first people to pop into her head her lovers? Yes, of course. But in a moment of panic, in a situation that could affect either one of their lives immensely, she didn't want to confront them. Not with 100% certainty of a result. She wanted to avoid the unnecessary anxiety and hysteria spreading to other people involved in this. Not if there's nothing to be worried about in the first place, she kept on convincing herself.

In addition, as they had talked about before, knowing the rest of her members, there was a group of them that would try to be as emotionally available as they possibly could, their arms around her during the entire process, trying to console her while she just needed someone next to her. The other part of them would turn it into the headline of their tabloid, running around frantically, trying to make sense of the situation, while freaking out, scaring her even more.

And then there was Cheol, the oldest of them all, she shook her head as she didn't even want to think of a possible reaction of his. Yes, he'd support her no matter what, but the image of disappointment on his face was something she couldn't stomach.

Silently, Vernon leaned back, a tight smile on his lips. He appreciated her honesty.

Their sweet moment of companionship was interrupted by the sound of the teeth-shattering, chill-sending sound of his alarm. Vernon didn't even think of changing the ringtone, just opting to go with the standard iPhone one, making the girl shudder as he turned it off.

"Alright," he sighed. "You ready?"

Minnie nodded, pushing herself up to sit further on the edge, her knees close to hitting the coffee table.

"I do one, you do one?"

"Dude, you peed on that, I'm not touching it!" His exclaim made her look at him dumbfounded.

"I peed on that part," she pointed at the end covered by a plastic cap. "You won't even touch it."

But Vernon just shook his head. "You do it."

"Real supportive," she mumbled at him with an amused glare and nudge of her head.

Rushing down the number from three to one in her head, with a deep breath, she turned one test around, wanting to rip the bandaid off quickly and get it over with. Carefully, she looked at the small electronic display, ready for the worst to hit her.

"Not pregnant," she read out loud with a big breath of air. With a quick move, she turned around the second one, a content smile on her lips as she found the same result.

"Not pregnant," Vernon nodded, looking at the coffee table ahead of him before turning towards the female member. "You okay?"

Minnie pressed her lips together tightly, looking at him with a somewhat smile on her face as she nodded. "Yeah..."

Her gaze fell back on the white and blue plastic, her hands still cramped up in her lap as the younger rapper let himself fall further back into the blue couch. He let a moment pass, giving her the silence to herself.

"You know," he patted her back, gaining her attention, "If you were though...," she met his eye. "I'd drive you. Check-up... or...," with a motion of his hand, he pretended to cut his neck, getting a chuckle from her in return.

"I know," she whispered, not trusting her voice to become any louder. Too many emotions were rushing through the short moment, too many for at that time after coming close to what she'd describe as a heart attack.

In the blink of an eye, she had her arms wrapped around his torso, making the younger member smile softly as he returned the embrace. A comforting hand ran up and down her arm. It wasn't often he reciprocated the show of affection from her, but he'd let her for now, knowing she most definitely needed it.

With her cheek against his shoulder, he felt her tightening her arms in a pulse as she spoke up again.

"That's why I called you."

Taglist: @waosobii @chaebb @lunarxsun @hoe4wonwoo @kimhyejin3108 @soobzao @billboard-singer @cosmicwintr @zwiehe @alixnsuperstxr @angie-x3 @smooore @allthings-fandoms @lllucere

#minnie 🌷#seventeen #seventeen oc #seventeen 14th member #vernon

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meraki-sunset · 1 year ago

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I use this handy-dandy thing.

This is the NEW ALPHABET, the old alphabet from homestuck was actually the Daedric alphabet turned upside down, which had to be changed due to copiryght, for Hiveswap. SO this is the Hiveswap alphabet, the new one.

And i practiced the same way i learned the alphabet when i was little, by writing each letter multiple times until i remember them.

Like i write a full page of the letther A, then B, then AB, then C, BC, D, CD. Ect. then i began writing words with the letters i already learned like BED, and HAD. until i knew enough words to write longer things like my name, objects, animals etc I wrote from the A until whatever letter i remembered, and then continued practicing until i could write from A to Z in one go.

ALSO, i downloaded this alternian fonts from THIS USER

They made 4 fonts and i used them as reference to see the vartiants and constants in each letter, which things i can bend and which ones are necesary or the letter loses meaning. They're free but please conside to colaborate.

HERE are some more from the same crator

And then i used this super cool page, which is full of homestuck themed browser tools.

There you are shown a couple letters and you gotta click the right one until you reveal the word.

Sometimes it'll be reversed

It was fun.

And then i startied translating things, i needed short pharagraphs, so i went with poetry. I looked for poetry on pinterest and google images and started translating stuff

Of course i write from left to right, like normal, like always. I know in homestuck they wrote from right to left and from the bottom of the page up, but that was because, again, it was daedric upside down, so the joke was, you could turn the page upside down and read normal in daedric. I just write like i've always writen, but with this wacky letters.

I'm still very slow and i mix the T with the P, and forget some letters, but i can already read it! slow. And write it, slowlier...

It took me a couple hours of fixation and now i use the AlternianPractice Tool for fun

Hope this helps

#csau extra #homestuck #meraki #alternian alphabet

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mxbo · 3 months ago

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I couldn't fit the tutorial on a reply lmao, here's a full post explaining my process :]]

STAMP TUTORIAL (TF2 edition, but works for everything)

99% of the process is done on the website ezgif. Ezgif carries the stamp-making process lmao

1. Get your GIF

Tenor: Ok place to grab your GIFs. Average quality of the GIFs is good enough, and looks ok when resized to the size of the stamp. You'll find like 1 normal GIF every 4 buff characters GIF tho.

GIPHY: Average quality of the GIF is better (I don't think the web compresses the GIFs that are uploaded)… If you find what you're looking for. You'll have to SCROLL before finding what you're looking for because there are always non-related GIFs on the top of your searches or the same GIF multiple times, it's crazy.

makeagif: You will find cool GIFs, but the quality is pretty low (I think the web itself compresses the GIFs a lot). It looks bad even when resized down. And it has a watermark, which I recommend cropping because it's not even visible when resized, it just looks like a gray blob on the corner.

Google: Best option by far, quality is pretty good and the ratio of “things I was looking for/things I actually find” is SLIGHTLY in favor of “things I was looking for” (and most of “things I actually find” are just the characters rotating, not NSFW, so that's only a nice change from Tenor). You won't have to scroll much to see different and interesting GIFs. JUST REMEMBER TO FILTER BY GIFS.

You search whatever > Images > Tools > Type > GIF

Make it on your own: Aka, you download your video, go to ezgif's “Video to GIF” (then you can crop it, CUT IT. THIS IS IMPORTANT, YOU DON'T NEED TO GO ANYWHERE ELSE TO CUT YOUR CLIP, YOU CAN DO IT ON EZGIF ITSELF). Ok, I lied, it wasn't Google, this is the best oftion by far. You get exactly what you want, the best quality if you don't compress it much until after the GIF has been resized into the size of a stamp… It's just super time-consuming, and you'll have to spend like an entire hour just watching a video to find the clips.

OK, I HAVE MY GIF NOW

Hehe, his legs go pipupipu

2. Resize

Go to ezgif, this is where the fun begins (if you weren't on ezgif already). You download your GIF, or copy the link and insert it, or you'll have it there if you made it yourself.

A STAMP MAKES 99px × 56px

THE INNER PART OF THE STAMP MAKES 91px × 47px

I RECOMMEND MAKING YOUR GIF 92px × 48px

BTW, THESE MEASURES ARE FOR THE TEMPLATE I'LL GIVE YOU LATER. If you use another template, just go to an image editor and see what the inner size of the stamp is.

So, you set your GIF's width to 92px.

Then crop it, so your height is 48px.

Or you can resize it so it's directly 92px × 48px, but the crop will be in the center, and SOMETIMES YOU DON'T WANT THAT.

For example:

It's a vertical GIF whose area of interest is not in the center, so if we resize it directly-

oops-

ANYWAY

Once you have your GIF resized:

IMPORTANT: BEFORE THE NEXT STEP, REMEMBER TO CONVERT TO GIF IF THE FILE YOU'RE WORKING ON ISN'T A GIF ALREADY

Sometimes you'll be working with a webp without even noticing (EW, I hate webp) and transparencies don't work particularly well with that extension.

3. Overlay

Click on this icon.

Ok, now that that's fixed:

Extend the size of the canvas.

Select your template and Upload image!

This is the template, btw.

Then move the overlay around until it contains the GIF nicely, or just set Left to 43, Top to 20 and Generate image! (I have these numbers memorized, it saves you like 20 seconds lmao)

Also, again, these numbers work on MY template, if you use another one, you'll have to figure it out yourself.

4. Crop

THIS OPTION IS A TIME-SAVER FR

5. Optimize (optional, highly recommend)

I always set my optimization method to Lossy GIF and level 10 because I find that there is no quality loss, and the file size might drop by 30%-70% (actually crazy). These percentages don't change much in higher compressions, even though you'll start seeing a drop in quality around level 35 of compression (the default).

6. Save

YIPPE!!! Your stamp is done :D

You can save it and look at it and place it on your profile or website.

Here it is btw, in case someone wanted it :]] The Sniper GIF but correctly cropped and made into a stamp as well.

Now do that another… eleven times, and you'll have a stamp pack to make into a Tumblr post... Oof TT

There's no website that lets you make stamps faster lmao (I wish)

@sir-broken-bones (I'm @ them so they actually see it, I made this tutorial for them after all lol)

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #stamps #da stamps #tutorial #graphics #old graphics #neocities #old web graphics #old web

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hoe4sports · 8 months ago

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Discovering a new side (18++)

Caroline Graham Hansen x reader

A/N: This is a mature +18 imagine. Do not read if you are under 18, easily triggered or in an unsafe place. The Spanish is taken directly from google translate, so do not judge the Spanish. You get the point.

TRIGGER WARNING: Semi angry, strap on, light spanking, riding, domination, mommy. All the warnings basically.

(IMAGINE STARTS UNDER GIF)

The referee blew the whistle signaling for the match to be over. The fans broke out it screams of Joy, and the home team was jumping together in a circle screaming about their victory. Your girlfriend had just played a game against low ranked Scotland, and lost tremendously leaving their chances of the next World Cup in the trash. You both played on the Norwegian national team; but you were currently not playing as your acl was causing you pain. Caroline would always take it very personally when Norway lost, and it didn’t help that she hadn’t been scoring goals with Barcelona lately either.

As the match was over some of the girls fell to the ground, Aurora Mikalsen, Norway’s goalkeeper kicked the goal and chucked the ball out of sight. Everyone was finding ways to release their dissatisfaction, disappointment and imagining the dreaded headlines. Caroline was different. She would go quiet until she had processed what was wrong, and usually within a few hours she would be okay.

“Baby, come here” you said as you walked towards her on the field. She walked straight into you, and wrapped her arms around you for comfort. You looked up at the tall winger and she looked like she was dissociating. Dissociating was always her escape in times like this.

You walked into the warderobe where some of the girls were sobbing while others were trying to be as fast as possible. Gemma Grainger was Norway’s newest coach after the last coach had mentally ruined multiple of our star players. Gemma was a good woman and she was handed a national team that was a mess. “Girls, listen. We are allowed to feel sad right now. It’s okay, we need to process. Tomorrow, we start fresh. Our ranking has climbed from 12th best to 7th best. That’s something to be proud of. I want all of you, playing or not, to remember that you are the reason as to why we have skyrocketed the rankings.” she finished as the spirit in the group slightly brightened up.

As you got to the hotel, Caroline was watching the game on her phone. In a closer inspection, she was watching her mistakes over and over. When she finished, she jumped to the next game, watching all of her mistakes again and again and again. “Baby” you mumbled as you leaned towards the disappointed woman sitting in the chair by the desk looking more like an analyst than a player. “Maybe it’s time to put the phone away?” You suggested as you kissed the back of her neck lightly. No response. “Caz, how about some food?” You suggested as you kissed her cheek. “Caroline, perha-“ you started as she cut you off by turning around. “No Y/N, I need to figure out why I am not working!! I need to find a solution to this problem or I will end up never playing again!” She screamed as her eyes moved over to the phone again. You sighted, Caroline wasn’t one to yell and you had probably only heard her yell 2-3 times within the time you had been together. Strangely enough, you always felt a burning sensation between your legs as she showed her more, let’s say dominant side. That side only came out when she was angry and would yell. You decided to push your luck, and tried again. “Baby.. Let’s try to decided what to-“ you started as you once again was cut off by her turning the chair around to face you. “I said no, I don’t want too. Stop being so fucking annoying before..” she growled, but stopped as her eyes got glued back to the screen to see herself appear in the picture. You wanted to test your luck. You wanted to have rough sex. To have her be dominant. Assertive. In charge. But she would always be careful and sweet, and you loved that. But sometimes..

“Baby, take it out on me please..” you whispered in her ear as you let out a quiet moan. She didn’t respond, but you could sense that she was tensing up. “Baby, use me, please.. I can take it, I can make you feel better..” you continued as you could see her focus become less and less sharp. “Will you please take it out on me, baby? I’ll be a good girl for you.. ” you whispered seductively while letting your hands slip her shoulders and under her shirt to massage her breasts. She broke contact as she turned around and looked up at you. It was almost like her eyes had shifted to something darker, like her lust was pouring out of her eyes. Her breathing was heavier and you could tell that she was looking at your breasts. She was definitely a booby girl rather than booty. Lucky for me, as my boobs were bigger than the standard football player’s chest. You could tell that she was considering letting go, and you needed to act quick.

“Amor, por favor desquitate conmigo. Usa mi cuerpo, puedo soportarlo. Por favor, úsame hasta que te sientas mejor.

Her eyes sharpened as she dropped her phone. “Como quieras princesa” she said as her voice sounded lower than before. She stood up from the desk chair, and with one motion; she picked you up and forced your legs around her waist with her hands resting on your ass.

“Seré muy bueno contigo, lo prometo.” You whispered in her ear as you scratched her back with you nails. She let out a small moan, and laid you with your back facing down on the bed. She crawled over you, so that she was practically on top of you. You sent her your best “fuck me” look and she sweared under her breath as her hands started exploring your waistline. She leaned down and kissed you softly before you grabbed her hair in a makeshift ponytail and tugged on it forcing a moan out of her lips.

“No princesa, ahora estoy a cargo” she said as she looked down on you forcing you to let go of her hair. You nodded, and she went back in for another kiss leaning herself on her toned tanned arms. She touched your lips with her tongue forcing it inside to dominate mine. You moaned softly into her mouth as you couldn’t simply get enough. This was all you had dreamed about for the last year, and finally she let her dominating nature out. You could feel her hand loosing the strings on your pants.

All of a sudden, she flipped you around on your belly and yanked the pants off of you. You gasped as your wet thong came into contact with the cold air. On my back, you had her name as you were still wearing her jersey from the game. She was massaging your ass violently as she moaned. “Fuck baby, my jersey.” She moaned as she tugged on the jersey. “Yes baby, I made sure to let everyone know that I belong to you” you said as you could feel her hand stroking the back of the jersey where her name was located.

“Eso es correcto. Todos ustedes me pertenecen, baby” she said in a low voice as she started kissing my neck from behind while pulling on my hair. “Are you gonna be good?” she asked as she grabbed one of your boobs from behind forcing you to moan. “Yes, I’m gonna be so good. So good.” You obeyed as she pulled your hair tighter. “Let’s test just how good you are then, princesa.” she growled as she let go of your hair and body to stand up. She pulled you up from the bed and carried me you to the desk, laying you with your ass over the desk.

Suddenly, her hand made contact with your ass. That itself was enough to send you over the edge. You moaned out loud as she grabbed your ass pulling it upwards towards her. “Be a good girl for me, and stay still.” She growled in your ear as she had me pulled back by my hair. Fuck, this was really going as you had hoped. You loved this new side of her leaving you wanting to obey everything she would request you to do.

You stayed still trying to move your hips in the hopes of your red lacy thong would relieve you of some pressure. Caroline was rumbling around the room and you wanted so bad to turn around to see what she was doing, but you wanted to be good for her. You had imagined this the day you purchased a double sided strap on. The one for the giver was shorter and upwards, while the one for the receiver was longer and wider. Let’s just agree that you had a clear vision in mind when you purchased it a few months back.

You were standing bent over the desk as you could feel Caroline coming back for you. She smacked your ass again, and you moaned louder than ever before. “Oh, fuck baby, I need you” you whimpered in hopes of her long fingers making their appearance. Instead, you were surprised by the strap on you had purchased going full force inside your pussy from behind instantly hitting the sweet spot. “AH, fuck baby, yes please” you screamed out in pleasure as you held on to the desk. No time to adjust. You knew from the treatment on your ass that you were already close. “Fuck babygirl, you are taking it so well.” Caroline moaned out as she stopped without any warning. She lifted one of your legs up on the chairs next to the desk. “My perfect girl, wearing red lacy underwear underneath my jersey for a whole day without letting me know” she whispered in your ear sending chills down your spine. Her hand was barely touching your folds through your panties making you desperate for her.

As you were about to whine, she went in with the strap at full force going even deeper than before. Her hips thrusting harder and deeper with every trust. You could feel the tension growing in your abdomen, and you instantly knew what was about to come. “Caz, I’m so close, I’m gonna cu-“ you started as you were cut of by tour own orgasm making an entrance. She pulled out immediately.

“Te dije que te corrieras princesa o eras una chica mala?” she growled as she turned me around and looked straight into your eyes. You couldn’t help but look at her soaked pussy with the double strap. “yo era una chica mala” you replied with attitude forcing her eyes to widen as she let out a quiet moan.

She picked you up again, and practically threw you on the bed. She ripped off your tiny panties and you moaned as the cold air make contact with your throbbing pussy. As you were enjoying the cold sensation with my your eyes closed, you hadn’t discovered that Caroline had positioned herself with her head between your legs. Your eyes opened up as she entered your sensitive pussy with her tongue licking your folds and nibbling on your clit. “Ah, Caroline, more please” you moaned as you gripped the sheets while she continued exploring your insides. Her tongue started throbbing in and out of your walls. “AH, more daddy, more!” You screamed out in pleasure as she continued not realising what you had just said. She responded with her thumb rubbing your clit while her soft tongue pushed in and out of you. “Ah, baby, I’m gonna have to cum” you moaned as you arched my back. “Beg babygirl” she responded as you noticed that you could barely able to talk. “I can’t hear you” she repeated, and you moaned again. “Please, I need to cum. I have to cum, please let me cum in your mouth daddy.” You cried out as I you grabbed her hair and tugged on it. “Do it for me baby” and with that you came hard, I you squirted on her face and buckled your hips upwards. She grabbed your hips, and forced them down again as she glared at you. “MINE” she growled as she started licking up all your squirt.

When she had gotten every last drop, she laid down beside you and propped you on top of her. This was new. She looked into your eyes and brushed your hair behind your ear. “¿Cuánto puedes tomar antes de venir princesa?” she whispered as you swallowed. “As much as you need me too.” You said as she kissed your head and dragged you out of bed. She put you on your knees as she stood with her strap levelled with your mouth. You looked up at her with the most seductive look that you could, and with that she took the strap and held it infront of your lips.

“Chupa la polla de daddy ahora, princesa. Muéstrame lo desesperada que estás por mí.” She growled as she touched your lips with the tip of her cock. You didn’t even realise that you had called her daddy, you just obeyed. You opened your mouth and she put it in, gagging you as she held your hair and pounded it in your mouth. You sucked her off as she was eyeing you.

“Fuck baby, I’m so close” she stunned as she threw her head backwards. And you stopped. Her head flashed towards you and her eyes were even more lustful. “You need to be punished.” she moaned as she pulled you up on your feet by pulling your hair. She then picked you up as she sat herself on the bed and laid back. Leaving you sitting on top of her.

She grabbed the cock forcing her to moan as the giver cock moved with the receiver part. She rubbed the cock along your folds before inserting it. “Ride me, babygirl. Show me how it’s done. Let me cum first.” and you? You obeyed as you started bouncing on her cock giving friction to the part inside of her. She moaned loudly as her breathing was becoming heavier. You picked up the pace, and your boobs were now bouncing ruthlessly. She looked at you, and forced you to lean forwards so she could reach your boobs with her mouth while still riding her. She put your nipple in her mouth and used her other hand to massage the other boob.

You could see her starting to shiver meaning that she was close as you kept riding her whole getting closer and closer to your own edge. “Ah, baby, yes, yes, don’t stop, be a good girl now, let daddy cum” she stunned as you continued. Her cries were stopped by herself moaning so loud that you got worried that the neighbours were gonna hear her. “Ah, fuck, yes!” You looked at her “I’m gonna cum, baby”. You said as you felt my insides tensing up again. “No, I’m gonna cum first. Keep going, baby.” She commanded and you swore you were about to have your eyes roll back into your head.

You were slowing the pace down as you were so close and so sensitive, but Caroline was in charge and she started bouncing her hips picking the pace up. “Oh my god!” You yelled as she thrusted deeper and deeper with ever move. She was working her hips in ways you had never imagined. “Say my name babygirl.” She commanded. “Ah, yes, yes , Caroline please, please let me come!” You screamed loudly as she moaned. “No” she growled, “the other name.” And then it clicked for me. “Yes, daddy, yes please let me cum!!” You screamed as she was shaking, trying to hold herself back from cuming. “Please,” you screamed “only you can make me cum like this! Fuck, Caroline!” You screamed on the top of your lungs as you were seconds away from cuming. “Cum for me princess” Caroline growled as you came all over her cock in sync with her orgasm. She slowly stopped thrusting by going slower and slower with every move until our synched orgasms were over. You passed out next to each other, and you couldn’t believe what had just happened.

You turned to face her, and noticed that she looked a little bit taken back by her newly discovered side. You were both pretty out of breath as you laid next to each other. You had talked about boundaries one time when she was drunk, and agreed on a colour system if we ever needed one. She was laying on her back, staring upwards. “Color?” You suggested. “Orange” she motioned back. You jumped up immediately, and helped her unbuckle. Orange was different to us then to others. We had traffic light systems for during and for after sex. Green was no aftercare needed, Orange was that aftercare was highly wanted and red was that aftercare was pretty much required. You kissed her forehead, and rushed to the bathroom as you turned on the water to the bathtub. You grabbed a cold water from the fridge and dragged her along with you to the bathroom. She sat down first in the tub, and you sat down behind her guiding her to drink from the waterbottle. She relaxed in your arms as you kissed her head. You kept repeating how much you loved her, how beautiful she was and that she was safe. After a few mins of cuddles, she got back to herself. “Hi baby” you said as you smiled while she looked up on me. She smiled back. “Thank you Skatt.” She muttered and you hugged her tight. You sat in the tub for a while until she was ready to go to bed. As you turned around to walk to the bedroom, she tossed her jersey at you. “I like you better with my name” she said as she smiled knowing that one day, you were gonna have her lastname.

#caroline graham hansen #woso imagine #smut

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otterlyinluv · 2 months ago

Text

Only Mortals Catch the Sniffles

Summary: You decided to go shopping while it was raining. But you forgot your umbrella. So of course you end up getting sick (you have a really poor immune system, don’t you?). What’s unexpected is who exactly decides to take care of you and what discoveries it leads to.

Pairing: Darkiplier x DA!Reader

Tags: sfw, the flu, argument and misunderstanding (gets resolved), proximity, tension

A/N: I have almost no time to write. (Who would’ve said I’d be reading lots in a linguistic course—) But hopefully you’ll enjoy this little thing I’ve been cooking up for quite a while now ^^

Word Count: 4.5k

——

You rummaged through the cupboard to find some of your favorite snacks but were met with empty space instead. You sighed and shook your head. Your secret stash of snacks has been disappearing at a suspiciously fast pace, so it was safe to assume someone was eating it. But eating all of it without notice? You’d have to have a stern word when you found the culprit. If at all.

This shortage has happened multiple times already. At first, you let it slide, but it was really beginning to get on your nerves. Scratch the beginning. You were mad. You were going to get your snack. Now.

Breathing slowly to clear your head a little, you decided to go for a late-night shopping run while you were at it. After all, there were some other things you wanted to buy, along with the snack. And then you’d catch whoever had been stealing them.

You walked down the corridor and noticed the time on the grandfather clock. You winced. If you wanted to go shopping you needed to get ready and fast.

You grabbed everything without thinking too much about the details. Your phone, purse, and a shopping bag and bolted for the door. You managed to faintly hear something Google was trying to say, but you had no time to listen. Off to the shop it was.

—

By the time you returned, it was pouring. And you hadn't brought an umbrella.

The door opened with a creak, and you stepped in, clothes dripping with water all over the carpet.

Out of the corner of your vision, Google raised an eyebrow before coughing silently: “I did attempt to tell you the forecast was saying it would rain.”

You pushed your wet hair out of your face. “Yeah. I don’t think that'll help now.”

“Well, if you had given me admin privileges, I would have been able to contact you even while you were away—“

You walked away irritated, not bothering to hear his ‘Giving me admin privileges is the solution to all your problems’ speech.

While sprinting to your room, you almost crashed into someone, but you were able to steady yourself and not make his suit wet. Suit. Only one man would wear a suit well into the evening.

Darkiplier eyed your very much drenched form from head to toe. Before you could say anything, he spoke, no visible emotion on his face. “Your clothes are wet.” It sounded as if he was merely making an observation.

A scoff escaped your lips. “Haven’t noticed.”

“Did Google not tell you about the weather?”

He who stayed mostly cooped up in his office most of the time had the audacity to lecture you for going out when it was raining?!

“Well, obviously I didn’t have the time to get an umbrella!” You threw your hands around, irritated, and stormed off into your room.

—

You woke up still tired. Your throat felt dry. You swallowed. Sharp stabbing pain. You groaned and turned around to check the time. You slept for 10 hours?!

The sun was already high in the sky, an unusual sight for an early bird like you. Weird, but you supposed it was better to get started for the day, you said to yourself, trying to sit up. Emphasis on trying.

You clutched the side of your head to dull the throbbing pain that emerged from your movement and flopped back onto your pillow. Well, this was a problem. Everyone would start wondering where you were sooner or later since you routinely woke up first.

The pain was almost enough for you to consider just staying in bed. And yet you couldn’t do that.

You’ve never allowed yourself to rest even while tired or under the weather. The work helped you focus on other things. Without it, your mind started to wander into territories it shouldn’t. Like those recurring dreams of a strange mansion or a poker game with people you didn't recognize… and it was doing it again. Which is exactly why you needed to get back to work.

You weren’t able to attempt to get out of bed again when your door handle swung open violently, almost slamming into the wall. There was almost no time to register the urgent steps stop as Wilford put his hands on your shoulders and began shaking you.

“Oh, my word, we thought you died!”

Wilford was a mess. Eyes shot wide, clothes untucked, hair unkempt, like he was running around and forgot to fix himself up.

“Wilford…” you said lethargically, Wilford’s shaking making your hoarse voice sound even quieter.

“Illinois said he hadn’t seen you at breakfast, so I thought you must have eaten already, but when I went to check, you weren't at your office and you’re always at your office, so we all thought you got kidnapped…” he continued ranting, almost like he was stuck in panic mode with no regards to the fact that you were actually safe and sound in your bed.

“Wilford, I’m fine!” you yelled as loudly as you could muster, which was not much but it seemed to break the loop he was in. He stopped shaking you. “I’m just not feeling well, that’s all…”

“Oh…” he said softly, slowly pulling his arms away.

His eyebrows scrunched up in almost a comical fashion. “You’re sick,” he stated, as if for some sort of confirmation.

“I’m not that sick—”

“But you never get sick.” He shook his head, looking positively baffled.

“Again, I’m not that sick. Just woke up a little later than usual, nothing to be worried about…”

“You are ill?” you heard his voice before you saw him appear. Darkiplier was standing in your doorway. Who knows for how long. His face looked neutral, except for the smallest furrow of his eyebrows.

You sighed, exasperated. This was too much to deal with in your current state. Which was not that bad, mind you. Besides, how and why was Darkiplier even in your room? Wilford, you could understand. You were acquaintances—friends even, but it was different with Darkiplier.

Sure, you had mutual respect, but your relationship had always been on the more formal side, seeing as you were one of the few people he could rely on to complete the tasks you agreed on. But he would have never struck you as a person to be worried about someone’s physical state.

“I am fine. It’s just a cold. Nothing I can’t handle—“

He interrupted you before you could finish your sentence.

“A cold? A cold that leaves you unable to get out of your room until noon? Is just a cold the reason you are left bedridden and shivering despite being underneath a duvet?” He walked until he was near your bed. There was a cold sort of fury hidden behind his eyes.

That irked you. Of course he never cared about your well-being. He only cared about how the search for Mark continued. And no matter who helped him along the way, as long as he got his revenge, nothing else mattered.

You weren’t able to yell, but your gruff voice was teeming with anger. “Well, I’m sorry I had the gall to fall ill. But not all of us have the ability to work for days on end. Some of us are human!”

You hadn’t meant to say that last sentence. Pain flashed in his eyes. You’ve always had a suspicion that he used to be human. At least at some point in time. You got your confirmation now. You would’ve regretted saying it any other time, but not now. Not now when you finally found out the thing he cared about most was your productivity.

“I think you should leave,” you said coldly.

You’ve honestly forgotten Wilford was also in the room as he hasn’t butted into your conversation like he usually did. Darkiplier’s face was stunned, maybe even regretful, but he did nothing, as Wilford took him by the shoulder and led him away from your room.

As they left, you turned to the wall and closed your eyes. Tired from the emotional exchange and your current sickness, slumber soon overtook you.

—

You woke up still tired, your mouth dry as if you hadn’t drank water in forever. Which, you hadn’t. Your stomach ached, but you highly doubted you could muster up enough strength to make yourself something. Another grumble of your stomach convinced you otherwise.

You looked around for a bathrobe to put on over your pajamas when your eyes got caught on your bedside table. There, lay a tray with a plate full of chicken noodle soup along with a spoon.

Did someone…. make you food? You have eaten along with some of them, such as breakfasts with Illinois or Yancy, and sometimes Wilford liked to join you for lunch. Then there were the late dinners in Darkiplier's office. But this? You weren't used to that. You leaned over and put the tray on your lap, careful not to spill anything.

You wondered who would do such a thoughtful thing for you. It looked homemade, so that ruled Yancy out. He approached you a few weeks ago if you could re-teach him some simple recipes since he's been in prison for so long that he's forgotten how to cook.

You were familiar with Illinois’ cooking skills, but you doubted he would find the time to make you soup. He’s always joked that he can’t give anyone special treatment or else they’d fall in love with him.

And Darkiplier… you threw that thought away before you could even start thinking about it properly. As if he’d be all nice to you after treating you no less than an expendable employee.

Wilford, you couldn’t be sure about. You’ve seen him cook occasionally, not soup, but he seemed to have both skill and like you enough to be so considerate.

Satisfied with your thought process, you set to eating the surprisingly still warm soup that you deduced Wilford had made for you.

After about twenty minutes, you already having finished your soup and cuddled up facing the wall to sleep the cold off some more, a quiet click of the door handle filled the silence of your room. Soft tentative steps tapped on the floor, seemingly so as not to wake you up.

You turned around.

“Hey Wil, thanks for the soup…” You trailed off when you realized the one who entered your room was, in fact, not Wilford but a rather startled Darkiplier. You have never seen him with that much exposed emotion. He was frozen reaching for the empty plate, his eyes slightly wide, as if he got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. It, however, didn’t last long. He promptly straightened his back, wiping imaginary dust from his jacket, his expression back to being deadpan as usual.

“Why are you taking that plate?” You eyed him warily. Was he here to chastise you for not working? Or perhaps—

“Because I made the soup. I figured you’d have finished it by now.” He moved to pick the tray up.

“You made the soup? You made me soup?” you blurted out before you could really think about what you were saying.

“You’ve seen me cook,” he said in the most matter-of-fact voice.

“Well, yes, but…” You sat up and tried to gather your thoughts. It all lead down to just one thing. “Why?”

“You are ill. You need rest and warm food. So I made you soup. Is that enough of a reason for you?” There was a hint of humor in his voice, his expression mostly unchanged, except for the faintest sparkle in his eyes.

You were absolutely baffled. He gets angry at you for getting sick and not working and then makes you soup?

He seemed to notice your irritation increasing and opened his mouth to speak. You crossed your arms and leaned on the pillow.

“Listen. I know a plate of soup isn’t enough to make up for what I had said. And I didn’t just make the soup to make amends. I want you to get better. I know what’s done is done but you need to know the truth.” He looked away momentarily as if he had to find strength to continue. “I wasn’t angry with you for not being able to work. I was angry… with myself.”

“What?”

He sighed, looking away.

“What I had said and the way that I had said it was harsh. There is no excuse for it. I was just…” He took a deep breath and shook his head absentmindedly. “I was worried. When you didn't show up in the morning. I thought something had happened. That maybe you had left or perhaps needed some time off. You work too hard all the time. And I did not want to intrude even if I was worried. A part of me was glad you finally decided to take some time for yourself. But when I was passing by and heard Wil say you were ill…” He looked off to the side for a moment.

“I have never seen you ill. Ever. So I said things without thinking them over. And for what it's worth, I am sorry.”

Your eyebrows only scrunched up more. Many emotions of increasingly more confusing variations started bubbling up in your brain. You didn’t say a thing. Just kept looking at him as if that would help you comprehend what exactly he had just said.

He sighed.

“Do with that what you will. But believe me when I say, I am being completely sincere that I truly hope you do get better.” With that, he grabbed the tray with the plate and left your room.

A part of you wanted to say something. To tell him to come back. But you couldn’t will your tongue to move. And not because you were sick.

With a closing of the door, you were left alone once again. This time, with many more things to think about.

��

Evening rolled around faster than you expected it to. You spent most of the time sleeping. You even felt good enough to make some light dinner for yourself. It seemed none of the residents were up to their usual antics of annoying you today. Lovingly, of course, but you had thought when they came to know you weren’t dying, they’d come to visit you. But that didn’t seem to be the case as no-one has been in your room since your… exchange with Darkiplier.

But as all sickness goes, it gets worse in the evening. And so you were lying in your bed, as lethargic as ever, unable to even sleep.

Your door creaked, the sound so quiet you wouldn’t have been able to hear it if you hadn’t been lying in dead silence.

Darkiplier opened the door and looked over into the room. Your eyes met. And even through your hazy state, it felt like you locked eyes just a second too long. Not like any other time.

“I... came to check up on you.” He looked away, cutting the silence.

“That's awfully nice of you.�� You weren’t really thinking about what you were saying. It seemed to a side effect of your illness. Or maybe you weren’t so guarded with him anymore.

His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. It looked oddly adorable.

“Are you feeling alright?”

You didn't know if he meant healthwise or your current state of mind, and you didn’t care.

“Absolutely.”

He walked over closer, right up to your bed. You watched him curiously, a bit more attentive even despite your heavy mood.

“No fever or anything of the sorts?”

You scoffed lightly. “No, nothing of the sort. Really, I’m fine. Never been better. See?”

You moved to sit up when he gently grabbed your shoulders and pushed you back onto the pillow.

Breathing became a foreign concept. Even your sickness existed only in the back of your mind. Your body was faintly pressed against the plush of your pillow, yet everything paled in comparison to all but one sensation.

Him.

So close.

And yet not close enough.

His hands on your shoulders were secure and just a bit insistent. But not necessarily painful.

“Don’t get up, you need to rest,” he said firmly but softly just the same.

Your eyebrows raised. He leaned closer. And closer. You closed your eyes.

The touch of his lips on your forehead was feather light.

After seconds which seemed like hours, he pulled away just a little, deep in thought. “Your forehead isn’t warm so it seems like you really don't have a fever…”

It sounded like an inner monologue or a passing thought, but your brain froze from the moment he kissed your forehead. It was so soft you weren’t sure you weren’t actually having a fever dream. Your eyes moved on their own accord, studying his face. His eyes caught yours. You have never seen him from this close. Your mouth was slightly open as a shallow shaky breath escaped it. It was as if the Earth itself stopped spinning and all you could feel were his eyes. Staring. Pensive. As if he himself was also frozen.

“You… you shouldn’t be so close to me,” you said quietly, almost indiscernibly. Your mouth was dry. A few seconds passed. Silence. Just him and you. And his eyes. Oh, those dark eyes. They went deeper than you thought. Like they were their own little galaxies. Did he even hear what you said? Did he—.

“Why?” His voice was quiet, similarly to yours, with a slight purr that you’d never heard from him. You could feel his chest rise and fall, dangerously close to your own. Your heart was beating so quickly that you wondered if he could feel it. A shiver ran up your spine. Your brain desperately searched for an excuse. But did you really want him to stop?

“I’ll get you sick,” you tried. Oddly enough, you weren’t feeling all that unwell at the moment. You were, however, feeling something else you couldn’t describe. And his closeness only heightened the tingling in your stomach.

“I’m not human. I can’t get sick,” he said without missing a beat, almost matter-of-factly.

Curses, he’s always been good at quick responses. But— Hang on. How would you know such a thing about him? You’ve spent some time together, yes but… Not enough to know an obscure detail like that.

“But you were.” The words left your lips almost by themselves. And yet, something in you knows that it’s the truth. Somehow, someway you feel he used to be something else before this.

His face darkened, his expression shifting to the all too familiar one you knew from working together late into the night.

“I… used to,” he admitted. You had to keep your mouth from falling open. This was the clearest confirmation of their past you’ve gotten out of any of the residents of this mansion. And to get it from Darkiplier first… If anybody told you a few days ago that such a thing would happen, you would’ve laughed straight into their face. But now… Him sharing something vulnerable with you felt strangely familiar. Like it happened before.

“I can see that brilliant mind of yours working. But whatever questions you want to ask, save them. There is time and place for such conversation and this is not it.” This was his way of saying no to talking about this topic. Rather tactfully from how you’ve seen him snap at Google when he is genuinely angry for a sensible reason. There was, however, something in the sentence that you could use to gauge him. You could consider yourself fairly well-versed in a few things in life but for Darkiplier to call you brilliant? And with such casualty. Like he has already said it before. But he hasn’t. There had to be something more behind it.

“’Brilliant mind’?” you repeated his words inquisitively.

His eyebrows furrowed apprehensively and you knew then you struck gold. He pulled back from leaning over you but you followed suit, sitting up on your bed.

“Forget it,” he said, his voice clipped.

“No.” You surprised yourself by how fast you replied. And it seemed to have the same effect on Darkiplier since he didn’t move from the spot. Encouraged by this, you continued: “… No. Why did you say that?”

“I…” There it was—he hesitated. You waited with bated breath for him to reveal whatever it was he kept trying to hide. You knew it was something that weighed heavy on his soul.

“It is none of your concern,” he said after a few tense seconds of your waiting. Ever the diplomat. Was he a politician in his past life or what?

“Considering the fact that you said something about me, I think it very much concerns me.”

“Look, you are ill and there are things that are beyond your understanding—”

“Then tell me something I can know.” That was it. Your last ditch effort to get to know something more. More about this man who went from only a colleague to someone who has actually, and much to your surprise, proved to care for you. As much as a man with seemingly so little external emotion such as Darkiplier was. But only seemingly. You have seen him smile before this even if it was scarce. But now you could finally admit — it did suit him.

Darkiplier looked at you, brows furrowed, seeming almost perplexed. “You truly wish to know more about me?” he asked, to which you nodded quickly before he could change his mind and decide to leave right then and there.

He sighed.

Then begrudgingly sat back down on your bed.

Bingo.

You made yourself more comfortable, propping your back on the wall behind you. It felt like a child getting ready to hear a bedtime story. Darkiplier raised an eyebrow and let out a soft breath through his nose, the corner of his mouth raising almost imperceptibly.

He looked to the side thoughtfully for a few moments before turning back to you.

“I don’t have to breathe.”

Well, that was unexpected. You thought he would talk about his life experiences or the people that he met. Then again, you should have known better than to think he would actually tell you anything about his past or elaborate on the whole “brilliant mind” comment. Nonetheless, this new information was quite intriguing.

“What do you mean you don't have to breathe?”

”It’s… more of a habit than anything physiologically needed.”

“But— your chest raises and falls so regularly...” you said, more musing out loud than actually meaning to share any information.

“Do you watch me?” he asked. If you didn’t know him well, you’d think he’s irritated, his tone slightly accusatory. But when you looked at him, there was that familiar tug of the corner of his lips. He was playing. He didn’t sport that look often but he pulled it off quite well.

Apparently, you had drifted off again because his lopsided smirk had only gotten wider and he was closer than before.

“Do I have the privilege of your presence now?”

He was close. Really close. Like when he kissed your forehead to check for a fever kind of close. Your heartbeat picked up, and you could only hope he couldn't hear it. Heartbeat... does he have one? You must have spoken out loud because a thoughtful look spread across his features.

“I’m not too sure myself. Want to check?”

Did he really mean to say that? You blinked. His expression hasn’t changed. So he did.

You placed your hand on his chest matter-of-factly. That’s all it was. A checkup. You weren’t doing anything weird. It’s not like you felt his dichromatic aura bristle slightly at your touch before returning to a faint buzz, albeit a bit louder than a few moments ago. With him wearing only a dress shirt, you could feel his skin and the lack of a heartbeat.

“You know I’m only letting you feel me up like this because you’re ill.”

“Stop being cheeky.” You clicked your tongue in irritation when he disrupted your concentration. There was a faint huff of laughter before you refocused on what lay beneath your palm.

“There’s nothing,” you said quietly.

“You won’t be able to feel it like this.” And with that, you found your hand pressed even closer to his ribcage, covered by his. You felt his chest rise and fall more deeply, almost like you’d feel a regular person breathe. That’s when you felt it. A faint heartbeat right under your fingertips.

Badump badump

Even with his palm on top of yours being extremely distracting, it was clearly discernible. Orderly. A sign of life where there really wasn’t one.

His hand lifted from yours but you kept it there, utterly entranced by aseathe sensation of his heartbeat. He didn’t comment on it and spoke up, his tone softer than you’ve ever heard him be.

“There has to be oxygen for it to beat strongly. And that happens when I breathe more. Not that I need to per se, it’s more of a habit.”

“How is that even possible? How can you function without air?”

“There are no... rules for the amalgamation that I have become.”

That was one genuine bit of emotion you’ve seen him express. Frustration maybe? You’d have thought Darkiplier had come to terms with what he had turned into but it seems time can’t heal all wounds.

“I have been... this way for a very very long time. And yet I don’t know the constraints of myself.”

You hummed in understanding, mind racing with thoughts of what exactly he can and can’t do, absent-mindedly tracing the buttons of his shirt.

You felt his heart speed up, his chest jerking in as air hit your fingers. Your eyes flicked back up to his face.

Burning heat. Molten lava and blistering cold of his aura. His eyes searched yours for something. You weren’t sure what. Maybe he—The cracking of a mirror...

The intensity of his gaze made your hand twitch back, your whole body freezing up.

After a few seconds, he exhaled and smiled softly, bittersweet yet understanding, tender even — have you ever seen him smiling like that? — and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Rest. You need it.” He stood up and headed towards the door. Just when he was about to reach the door handle, you called out:

“Dark?”

He turned around, a look akin to hope in his eyes.

“Yes?”

“Will you… make me soup again?”

The tender smile was there again, devoid of all previous bittersweetness.

“Of course. Anytime, darling.”

It was only when he left that you realized, you called him ‘Dark’ instead of Darkiplier. And that Dark apparently resorts to pet names.

——

Fun fact I wanted to write it but could not manage to insert anywhere: Dark was the one who told the others not to disturb the reader :)) Oh and either Wilford or Yancy is stealing your snacks. Which one do you think it is?

Also, if anyone wants to be part of a taglist for future fics, let me know :)

#otty writes #darkiplier #darkiplier x reader #x reader #reader insert #dark x reader #darkiplier x da!reader #soft sweet dark #markiplier egos #iplier egos #googleplier #wilford warfstache #writing #fanfiction #imagines #fanfic #writersofmark

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starless-planet · 6 months ago

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Being terminally online but only on tumblr and youtube just makes it so you’re forced to go through accidental humiliation rituals irl. Absolute lose-lose situations.

Several months back I started my first ever big person job out of college. My coworkers’ (despite most of them being my peers) exposure to the internet largely stops at Tiktok and Facebook.

It was about one month in when I looked over at my coworker’s computer and see she’s looking at pictures of the onceler on google images.

Obviously my blood freezes in my veins but I go “Hey whatcha looking at over there?” And she explains to me she is planning on putting a photo of “The guy from The Lorax” in our coworker’s locker because he looks like him.

But as she keeps scrolling she’s… discovering. She’s having an experience I wish I could have shared with her instead of looking on like I’m seeing corpses strewn about a battlefield. She’s seeing the art. She’s baffled. “Why would people draw that? What’s going on?” she wonders. She is 24 years old. “People are weird.” I say. It’s all I can say. I’m new here and we are at what is essentially a help desk where guests can come up and talk to us at any time. I leave it be. She finally chooses a normal photo to print.

Later I’m having a conversation about it with another coworker and she goes “oh yeah. Well, apparently on Reddit it was a thing to like… you know… want that guy and the Lorax to kiss.”

I almost lost it, guys. I was screaming in my head. There was an entire 2 hour youtuber essay being held back because I was unwilling to expose myself. I had to just look her in the eye and go “yeah that’s crazy lol.” There was no discussion about the self-ship art. That went right over their heads I think.

A few months later and I’m making jokes to my other coworkers about which president they would marry and my friend pipes up “we should make a tumblr about really hot presidents, guys.” Now this time I only had a moment to suffer the weight of Hamilton Tumblr before she said “It’s too bad none of us have a tumblr and it’s dead.”

(Now before you go and think she’s just doing a bit I later confided in her I have multiple tumblr accounts and she was like “Oh. Good for you!” and promised me she didn’t have one. I believe her.)

Then we come to Columbo Night. Columbo Night is when we all get together and watch Columbo. I was doing a bit where I didn’t know what drugs were (well half of a bit, because I don’t actually know too much about them).

I mentioned learning about angel dust in DARE, but when everyone asked what that was I had to admit I didn’t know which specific drug it was slang for. So they looked it up on urban dictionary. They find this:

They lose their minds trying to figure out what was going on with this definition.

I kept my mouth glued shut.

They learn it’s from Hazbin Hotel. “I think Hazbin Hotel is a web comic?” someone pipes up.

I’m staring at the floor in front of me. The handful of youtube video essays I’ve watched on the show are playing out in front of me. I’m counting my blessings I’ve never actually watched it.

They’re having conflicting opinions about the art style. I’m gripping the edge of my seat.

And then, it’s time for Columbo, and it’s all over. Just as quickly as it started, it ended. Thank you Columbo.

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svgvru · 1 year ago

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. . . WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETERRRRRR?!

'𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒!' you laughed slightly at the memory of a year ago that google had shown you. there plenty of memes of your husband—now president, doing silly faces with a bandana of the american flag. it was quite amusing at the time, multiple memes and art was saved to your phone. even the victim of it all enjoyed it. then he became president and he was unstoppable. it made you smile how confident and cocky he could be at times. he was a master strategist, level-headed, and funny—you couldn't think of anyone better to suit the job. but, that also means that's it's quite hard to defy him.

you normally stayed at home. you took care of the chores of the house—cleaning, cooking, anything to keep the house how he wanted. you were a househusband, and if you had kids . . . you'd be taking care of them too. at times you think he really does want children, he never voices it though. nevertheless, it has been pretty busy at the white house recently, so he hasn't been home as much. that didn't mean he wouldn't find a way to have fun.

like the obedient husband you were, you were cooking dinner for him upon his return. he had just visited you on his break, using you—"making sure you were still pliant."

a sniff and a nod left your lips. you have zero idea what you did, perhaps not having something done at the time he wanted it, but a loud yell left your lips when he pushed that urethra plug in your cock. tears were streaming down your face as you sat bare and obedient in his lap. "i expect this pretty hole down here . . . " he teases your ass with his finger. " . . . to be ready along with dinner when i get home, yes?" you nod, sniffling softly. although, that was a mistake as a hand strikes the tip your cock. "be a good boy, now. words." you gulp. "yes, sir . . . " he chuckles, setting you off of his lap. "excellent! i'll be done in a few hours. let's see how long you can take it."

there was that look. that look like you were simply a lab rat to be experimented on for his larger goal. you felt extremely small and insecure when he stared at you like that. it was like he was animal looking at the food he was to pounce on . . . regardless, you listen to him.

with a whine and moans leaving your lips, you finish cleaning the house—starting dinner immediately. you were patiently stirring the pot, legs wiggling and rubbing against eachother as it became harder to keep still. after a while, you simply let the food to simmer and took out your lube—pouring it onto your fingers. a breathy moan left your lips when the cold liquid touched your rim. slipping a finger in there was semi-easy, after all—he would fuck you anywhere at anytime. it was a kink, free use? you believe, perhaps you were into it. but it was hard to not feel embarrassed when his cock is burried inches deep in you while he's having a meeting.

your finger slips inside, stroking your walls carefully. it was painful, not being able to cum. yet—he made you stretch yourself after inserting that stupid plug. it always made you cry. you could tell when he was going to use it, he had a certain face. you'd bring yourself to tears, begging not to be punished . . . "especially with that." though, you learned, he didn't care. "big boys take their punishments," he'd say, "ah, look at that pathetic cock—cumming even with the plug!"

but you took it, because that's what you're supposed to do. you're his good boy, you need to stay that way.

you desperately think about that as you vigorously finger yourself. strings of moans and whines leave your lips. your fingers weren't nearly as effective as his, but you could find your prostate just fine. however, you couldn't cum. it burned, but it felt good. you desperately needed release, but you could take it. you could take it! you are his good boy. so you took it. and now your finishing up dinner.

the sound of the door unlocking and opening fills your ears as you ready his plate. you turn and smile, "welcome home, dear!" when he didn't respond to your words, you followed his movements with confusion. "i . . . made your plate. i—"

his hands creep into your pants. he glances over to the fixed plate of his dinner. "did you now? well, good job for listening," he chuckles as if expecting that you wouldn't do what he said. he tugs down your pants, smiling at your hard cock that bobs when it's free from the fabric. your thighs tense at the sudden air. you bite your bottom lip, pushing your ass out for him to see easier. when his hands spread your cheeks, a whine leaves your lips. "'jaku . . . " you pout looking back him. "look at you! so intelligent and good at following orders . . . why would i need such incompetent soilders when i have you, hm?" he smiles, his thumbs pulling lightly at the rim to open you up a bit. "stretched out and lube dripping from you . . . "

he leans forward, his lips pressed to the shell of your ear. "such a slutty little househusband i have . . . " he whispers, " . . . you've been so good. perhaps i should give you a reward, hm?" you nod feverishly. "y-yes, sir!" he chuckles and lets go of you, the sound of a zipper and the ruffling of pants comes from behind you.

a gasp leaves your lips at the feeling of his warm cock pressed against your ass. he postions you with your chest, head, and arms on the counter. your back is put in a pretty arch. his eyes rake your body, snickering at your full and heavy balls, tight and ready to finally release. you close your eyes in anticipation when you feel the head of his cock press against you.

a surprise yelp leaves your lips when he suddenly slams in to the hilt. "what type of sound was that?" he chuckles. "does your pussy feel that good from one thrust?" you turn your head to face him, eyes wide and teary when you called his hole a "pussy." you have to admit, the thought of him continuing to say that felt pleasureable, but that wasn't something you'd focus on right now. "i . . . i don't have—!" kenjaku chuckles. "i'm aware, just wanted to see how you'd react . . . "

his hips retract, and then slam right back against you. "ahh, such a nice 'welcome home' present. don't you think?" he grins. you nod. "y-yes!"

you feel his cock fuck into you. his pace is always rough, he's never gentle. his cock rams into you, as if trying to get you to remember its shape. "a-AH! 'j-jaku—anngh!" you whimper and moan, call out his name, but he'll continue to fuck you roughly into the counter. in fact, your moans are music to his ears! it's an invitation to fuck you harder—rougher. a wet, squelching sound as he fucks you. the lube spurts from your hole, coating his cock in a pretty cloudy color. your ass was warm and wet, that was all he could ask for.

"'jaku! gunna cum! ngh—! gotta . . . please!" tears are starting to fall. your face is being roughly rubbed on the counter as you rock from his thrusts. your cock hurts. oh fuck it hurts. all you want is to cum, all he needs to do is say the word 'yes.'

"hm, do you think you deserve it?" he asks you. you sob, gripping tightly at the counters to ground yourself. "yes! yes—i've been a . . . been a really good boy," you sob, choking your spit. "really?" he asks cruelly, knowing very well you deserve to cum, but he's going to wait. "let's wait for a moment." a broken whine leaves your lips. "what? don't you want to cum with me? this is a fantastic privilege!" you can hear the sarcasm and fake pout in his voice. "you will wait until i cum." you sob, nodding reluctantly. your chest rapidly rises and falls. "yes, sir."

"ah! fuck—mmph!" your moans were positively adorable! "ngh—ah! yes, yesyesyes! a-AH!" his cock would mercilessly jam at your prostate. you feared he would never let you cum at this point. then relief flooding through you when you felt his hand. it dipped under you, his finger hooking in the little ring the urethra plug had. "you ready?" yesyesyesyesyes! a string of one singular word left your lips as you nodded.

he chuckles and thrusts roughly, pushing your back in a rough arch as he yanks the plug from you. a scream leaves your lips. you desprately suck in air, watery cum spurts onto the innocent white cabinets. your poor cock couldn't stop leaking, you couldn't stop cumming, you couldn't stop shaking.

kenjaku's chuckles sounded muffled as you stiffly came, feeling your insides be filled from his cock. "still cumming, hm? adorable . . . " a gasp left your lips when you finally stopped, falling weakly to your knees when kenjaku slips his cock from you. you wheeze and whimper, laying pathetically on the cold tile. "you obedient little thing . . . " he laughs at the mess you've made, embarassment flooding you at the sight as well. he puts his cock back in his pants. that same unsettled smirk is given to you. perhaps the long horizontal scar on his forehead made him scarier? nevertheless, you could do a thing. you'd babble and suck in his cock as he needed, he's such a powerful man . . . there's no way you'd stand up to him.

"clean up your mess and heat my food," he orders, "i'll be waiting at the table."

i thank my pookie (@/sensvis) who gave me the idea. og prompt: "The reader is the ""wo(man)" of the house and like since kenjaku is the president and he can do whatever he wants to his spouse he decides to fuck him so rough and so harsh that thereader is left shivering and gasping for air at the end and no one can do anything abt it cs Kenny is the president." ty bae 🙏🏾 send me more Kenny prompts, top or bottom reader.

#𝗦𝗠𝗨𝗧 ꒰ JJK ꒱#BOTTOM MALE READER #KENJAKU X READER #kenjaku x male reader #jjk x reader #jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #kenjaku smut #sub reader #sub male reader #top character #dom character #male reader smut #x male reader #male reader

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banggyu0308 · 1 year ago

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Welcome To...

banggyu0308's 1k celebration!!

When I first started this blog in April of this year, the idea of having one thousand people who liked my writing enough to hit that little blue follow button sounded so out of reach that it never even crossed my mind. The fact that I reached this milestone before even reaching four months of being on this blog is absolutely insane to me. Thank you to everyone who's been with me from the start, and to the newcomers who arrive each day.

Now, time for the fun!!

My inbox will be open for milestone-related asks until September 15, 2023, 0:00 ET. One individual may send up to ten asks related to the celebration during this time period. This applies to individuals with multiple accounts as well. Any and all asks sent between August 15th and September 1st will automatically be assumed as part of the celebration and will be answered with the tag 'but i luv u — 💙'

Asks you send must include at least one of the following:

— 1-2 prompts

prompts from my sfw and nsfw prompt lists (you may mix between lists or use two from one!) along with the txt member(s) you'd like me to write it for. prompts will be turned into fics at least 1k words in length and the published fics will be linked on this post. (nsfw list is under my 'adas hard hours' tag, which means you will be unable to see it if you have it blocked.)

— 1-5 photos

photos can be sent by themselves as a prompt for me to write a story off of. they can also be sent along with a prompt as an example of the outfit/hair you want the idol(s) to have in the fic. you may also send in a photo of something you'd like the reader to wear. please specify if you'd like sfw or nsfw if it's just a photo by itself.

if on anon, photos can be sent through a google or pinterest link, exampled here, here, and here.

— any amount of questions for me!

i will not answer personal questions surrounding me, my family, or anyone i know in real life, such as questions about where I/they live, work, go to school, etc. anything else is welcome! you my also ask my 'top 5' of anything

— a request for a song recommendation or a custom-made playlist!

you may request as many playlists or recommendations as you want! you can either send a song for me to form a recommendation or playlist around, or you can just ask for a random one! you may also ask to know the songs on MY specific playlists (such as mood playlists or my playlists for the txt members), songs i'm listening to right now, or my favorite artists. You can also ask what song(s) i associate with you, or an idol.

— wildcard

choose a number between 1-10 and get something special! if you choose a wildcard, tell me a little about your personality, hobbies, likes, dislikes, ideal career, and who your bias/wreckers in txt are! if you choose numbers 9 or 10, i also need your favorite song. hurry up! there are only two slots for each wildcard number, so choose fast! (please only send in one wildcard request!! we want to make sure everyone who wants to gets a chance 💙)

Of course, additional conversational asks are welcome as well, but will also be answered with the same tag!

#ada speaks :)#but i luv u — 💙#adas 1k event #txt smut #txt fluff #txt x reader

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homeofthelonelywriter · 2 months ago

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Let's call it Fate | Part 11

(A/N) Couldn't leave it with just angst in this chapter. Ugh, I just love their relationship.

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader (no Y/N)

Warning: google translate translations, abusive parents (especially mother), arranged marriage, age gap, bullying, talk of grandparents and death of a grandparent, mistreatment of Ghouls, threats, angst, fluff, kissis

With Primo still holding your hand - he had by then sunken down on the chair Copia had prepared for you - you glanced into the office and watched as Copia greeted your parents and asked them to sit down on the other side of his desk. They did and you couldn’t help but wince when you saw your mother’s attire - as if she was meeting the pope.

“So, Cardinal Copia, I hope you don’t mind us going straight to the point, why did you summon us?”

Your father’s voice was warm and tinged with a hint of confusion and concern. Your mother’s on the other hand was as cold and sharp as always.

“Surely it’s because our daughter is failing all of her classes, is it not? Can’t even get that right, that little-”

Copia cut her off with a raised hand as you felt Primo’s eyes bore into your back. And you knew what you would find in them if you decided to turn and look, but you couldn’t take the pity that would surely fill them. Not in that moment.

“No, that is not the reason. In fact, your daughter is one of our best pupils. She excels even in subjects she struggles in and is beloved here in the Ministry.”

You wished you could’ve seen your parents’ faces at that moment. And if you did, you would have noticed that while your mother seemed genuinely surprised, your father looked proud.

“Well, why have you summoned us then?”

“Because of the arrangement you have with the Warren family. I assume you had hoped no one would find out about the fact that you practically sold your daughter because you ran out of money. Now, I usually wouldn’t interfere with the private lives of the students, but nothing about this situation is usual and I have come to care a great deal about your daughter.”

His eyes flickered to yours for but a split second.

“So, the reason I summoned you here is because I want to ask you to call off the arrangement.”

Silence hung in the air as your parents slowly took in what had just been said and what felt like hours, were only seconds before your mother started cackling.

“With all due respect, Cardinal-” the title sounded sarcastic coming from her lips. “there is no way we would break that deal off, just because you asked for it. Do you even know who we-”

This time it was your father who silenced her as she turned to look at him. From where you were standing, you could see the shock and rage in her eyes.

“You…said that you care about our daughter. In what way?”

Once again Copia’s eyes flickered to yours, but this time, they lingered, asking a silent question. Should he tell them? You hesitated, unsure how they would take it, or if they would even care. But in the end, you nodded, and Copia’s eyes returned to your parents, flickering from your father to your mother and back again.

“I’m in love with your daughter.”

He didn’t elaborate, knowing that his words would have to sink in for a moment. And they did. For what felt like hours, silence filled the room. The air felt thick and your breaths got caught in your throat multiple times as you waited for your parent’s reaction.

“You’re not serious.”

Copia turned and looked at your mother, a deep frown on his face.

“I can assure you I am.”

Then your father spoke up.

“With all due respect, Cardinal, I am not sure I feel comfortable with your statement. You are much older than her and are currently in a position of authority. I don’t want to accuse you of anything, but-”

“Then don’t.”

You had let go of Primo’s hand and stepped out of your hiding place. Everyone looked at you, as you walked to Copia’s side, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He immediately covered it with his, smiling up at you.

“I know neither of you could in any way shape or form understand that anyone could love me for me, after all not even you can do that.”

You glared at your parents, eyes lingering on your mother, who just huffed and turned her face away, looking at the wallpaper to her right.

“But he does. And…and I love him…so very much.”

While finishing your sentence, your eyes found Copia’s, relief flowing through you when you found them already on you, determination and adoration reflected in them. Then your eyes flickered to your father.

“He is kind and gentle. He protects me, while all Noah has done so far is threaten and hurt me.”

As soon as you mentioned Noah, your father averted his eyes, staring at the edge of the table instead of at you. And something about that broke your heart.

“I…”, you took a deep breath, as your hands began to tremble from both anger and sadness. “I don’t know what I have done to you both, for you to feel so indifferent toward me, to hate me the way you do. To not care about me and only use me, but I will not give up on this…on him.”

Tears gathered in your eyes as they flickered from your, by now enraged mother, to your ashamed-looking father. You gathered that there was nothing you could say, that would convince your mom to take action, but your father…

“Dad?”

His eyes returned to you, sadness reflected in them.

“Okay, that’s enough. You-” Your mother jumped up and pointed at you. “-are coming home with us right now. Sending you here was a mistake.”

She turned around and stalked toward the door, turning back to face you when she realized that neither of you were moving. Just as she was about to yell something, your father rose to his feet but didn’t move. Instead, he looked you in the eyes, conviction in his.

“We will talk to them. The Warrens. And we will cancel the contract.”

A relieved gasp escaped you as your legs almost gave up from underneath you. Catching on in time, Copia rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you upright while he carefully guided you to sit down in his chair. Then he turned to your father.

“I appreciate that.”

Copia nodded at your dad, a hand on your shoulder. Your father returned the nod and turned around, walking toward your baffled mother. But Copia called out his name, and he stopped, turning back to look at the Cardinal.

“I would like to talk to you in private if that’s okay?”

Your father nodded, waiting for Copia to lead the way to a private room, but before he did so, Copia turned to you, silently asking if it was also okay for you. You nodded with a smile and watched him lead your father out the door. Only then did you realize that your mother would stay with you, and silent dread began to fill you, but before the door closed, all of the Ghouls entered and stepped up to the desk, basically creating a barrier between the woman who birthed you and you.

A smile spread on your lips, as you watched the wall of black in front of you, knowing that they were here for you. And in that moment, the tears you had been holding back ever since your parents entered the room, welled up in your eyes as you quickly wiped at your eyes, not wanting to give your mother the satisfaction in case she could see you even a little bit. Even though the tears were out of relief and happiness, she would just see them as confirmation that you were weak. And now you knew that weak was the last thing you were.

After about ten minutes, the door opened again and Copia and your father stepped inside. Through the cracks in the Ghoul wall, you could see them shake hands before your father ushered your mother outside, Swiss and Dew following.

“Thank you everyone.”

The Ghouls nodded, sending you a few smiles before they grabbed Primo and left. Copia seemed confused when he saw his brother, but didn’t bring it up. Instead, he rushed to your side, especially when he saw the tears, that by then had started flowing down your cheeks, sinking to his knees in front of you.

“Are you okay, amore?”

You nodded, a smile on your face as you hugged him.

“I’m just relieved.”

Copia nodded, holding you tightly. And while you were content with just staying in his arms for the next few hours, curiosity was nagging at you and you slowly pulled back.

“What did you talk to my father about?”

He smiled as he got to his feet, helping you up as well, and leading you to the couch, where he pulled you down, into his lap. Bianca immediately scattered out from behind your hair and jumped onto the couch, making her way to the pillows, where she curled up. Both you and Copia watched with a smile before you turned back to look at each other.

“I just assured him that I have the means to take care of you, as well as of him and your mother. Financially that is. I also informed him, that my position within the Ministry allowed me to finalize divorces.”

Your eyes widened at the last piece of information.

“Do you think they will…?”

Copia shrugged, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I recommended it. I know it’s hard to believe after the way you have been treated your whole life, but your padre…he loves you. When you’re ready…maybe you can talk to him.”

You didn’t react, not sure what to think. Yes, your father had always been kind to you, or at least kinder than your mother. But he had also stayed silent while she abused you, didn’t interject when she insulted you, and just stood by when she sold you. Could someone like that really love you?

“Hey…come back to me.”

You looked up at Copia. There was a frown on his face, his brows pulled together in concern. But you just smiled.

“I’m here.”

That also made him smile as he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, mumbling a quiet ‘bene’ against it. You stayed like that for a few more minutes, until the grandfather clock in the corner of the office chimed. Copia sighed, shifting underneath you.

“Time for breakfast, amore.”

His words registered, but the only one you cared about was the last one. Now that it was semi-official and you no longer had to worry about Noah or his family, it finally sunk in. You and Copia…were together. Before you could stop yourself, you spoke.

“Say that again.”

Copia frowned for a second.

“Time for breakfast?”

You chuckled but shook your head.

“The other part.”

His lips formed a silent ‘o’ as he realized what you were talking about, before he leaned down, ghosting his lips over yours.

“Amore.”

Your lips connected in a soft peck, and you couldn’t help but giggle when he pulled back.

“Again.”

“Amore.”

Another kiss, this one a little longer, a little more intense.

“Amore.”

He barely lifted his lips, before connecting them to yours again, moving them in tandem with yours. His tongue peeked out, swiping against your lower lip, and you were about to open your mouth when a sharp knock sounded from the door. You quickly pulled away from each other, both glancing toward the set of double doors.

“Who is it?”

There was silence for a second before you heard a familiar voice on the other side.

“Your fratello, fratello.”

Copia grumbled something under his breath before he gently set you down on the couch and got to his feet, crossing the room to open the door for Papa Terzo. During the few seconds, it took Copia to walk to the doors, you quickly rubbed a hand over your lips, trying to get rid of the paint that must’ve transferred there earlier. As soon as there was enough space for Papa Terzo to squeeze through, he made his way into the room, not noticing you immediately.

“Do you want to tell me why I just saw two of the most influential people walk out of here, looking less than happy?”

Terzo turned and glared at his brother, as Copia quickly shut the door and turned to look at the Papa. You watched as he hesitated for a second, unsure of what to say.

“Because Copia helped me.”

As soon as you spoke up, two pairs of eyes landed on you and you knew you had their full attention. Papa Terzo fully turned to face you, a confused frown on his face, while Copia joined you on the couch, before gesturing for Terzo to sit down.

“What do you mean?”

Copia quickly reached for your hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“You don’t have to tell him, amore.”

You watched as Papa Terzo’s eyes widened at the nickname, a knowing smile forming on his lips, while Copia stayed oblivious to his brother’s realization.

“He will find out eventually, it’s okay.”

After taking a deep breath, you turned to the Papa, and started to explain.

“Those were my parents. They…they sold me into an arranged marriage with one of my peers. Copia, he…he found out and talked to them, asking them to cancel the arrangement, because…because…”

“Because you’re in love. Both of you.”

Copia’s head swiveled around to look at his brother, eyes wide and surprise clear on his face.

“How…?”

Papa Terzo chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, a genuine smile on his face.

“Oh fratello, you have been colpito by her since the very first day. The way you grew defensive whenever I tried to flirt with her and how you whined all day long, about how you missed her, last week. You’re easy to read, fratellino. Plus, you just called her amore.”

The last part seemed to genuinely surprise Copia, as he continued to stare at his brother, his eyes widening even further in realization. Then he started to quietly chuckle to himself, as his cheeks grew pink.

“I guess I’ll have to learn to be more discreet.”

You smiled and squeezed his hand, catching his attention again. He leaned in, still smiling, and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. Laughing, you pulled back and rubbed a hand over your forehead, trying to get rid of the paint you knew was there.

“Us both.”

The clearing of a throat caught your attention again and the two of you looked back toward Papa Terzo. He was still smiling, seeming genuinely happy that his brother was happy.

“Anyway, we should go get breakfast for now. However, we will be having a meeting about this with the rest of the leading members, si? Perhaps, we can take action against that kind of behavior.”

The last comment gave you hope. Even though your father said that he’d take care of the arrangement, you were still scared, because you knew the Warrens and they didn’t like it when they didn’t get what they were promised. But if the Papa and the clergy took action, then they wouldn’t have a choice.

A relieved sigh escaped you, as you watched Papa Terzo rise to his feet, Copia and you quickly following suit. Before he could take a step, you called out to the current Papa.

“Thank you, Papa. It…it means a lot.”

Papa Terzo looked back at you, a soft smile on his lips.

“Please, it’s Terzo for you. You’re family now.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and out of the corner of your eyes, you could see Copia mirroring your expression before a relieved smile took over. And before you could respond, Terzo turned and walked toward the doors, turning around once he reached them.

“Are you coming?”

You glanced at Copia, only to find him already looking at you, and with a soft nod, the two of you joined Terzo, and made your way to breakfast.

Translations: amore...love padre...father bene...good fratello...brother colpito...smitten fratellino...little brother

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