#like he thinks it makes him a bad brother

[madamechrissy]

Well, are you mine?

Pairings: Sukuna x fem reader

Summary- You're Yuuji Itadori's best friend since forever, and his older brother Sukuna is a grade A ass to you. After a nasty breakup with your ex, you text Yuuji who's out for the night, he gives you the go ahead to stay at his place. But it's only Sukuna there, and he is oddly comforting? You've had it bad for him forever, but little do you know, so has he, even if he doesn't show it, because Sukuna thinks Yuuji loves you (ahem, he's WAY wrong) Porn w/feelings, best friend's brother trope, Duo POVS

CW- Modern Sukuna, he's a gamer and tsundere af lol, this is SMUTTY asf, loss of virginity (don't mention much abt it aside from reader is one) Sukuna is ROUGH lol, oral sex (m and f recieving) overstimulation, dirty talk, Sukuna calls reader brat and slutty, lowkey breed kink, possessiveness, marathon sex lol. Sukuna is BAD AT FEELINGS lmaooo, but he whimpers? Reader- 20, Sukuna 25- 6.4k WC!

Comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoy this one!

You’re walking out in that pathetic excuse for a tank top and the most revealing shorts that morning when Sukuna sees you, peeking up from his monitor, proceeding to get sniped like some damn noob when he sees your nipples perk up through the material. He curses loudly, slamming off his headset then, you look at him in surprise, lips parted just so.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, he glares at you then, standing up as he takes you in, irritated you have such an effect.

“What are you doing here? Yuuji isn’t even home until tonight.” He says with a glare, ruby eyes glinting, you tense just a bit, Sukuna is tall and intimidating, and constantly an asshole.

“He said it was fine, here’s the text.” You swipe up on your phone, he snorts as he looks at it.

“You have a teddy bear case? Stupid.” Your eyes narrow in irritation when he picks up the phone, scoffing as he sees the texts. “God. What a simp you’re making him.”

“What now? Am not even! He’s my best friend, not that you’d understand, you don’t even have any. You’re such an ass.” You snatch your phone back from him, earning his scowl.

“You’re an annoying brat, y’know that? If Yuuji didn’t simp so badly I wouldn’t have to deal with you.”

“Whatever! Ugh.”

“Why’d you need to come here anyway? Boyfriend piss you off?” You sigh, crossing your arms, just pressing your breasts up more for his view.

“He cheated on me.” Sukuna pauses then, hearing the hurt in your voice, seeing it on your pretty face, annoyingly pretty face.

“Shit.” Is all he manages, and you sigh, looking at him then, emotions in the back of your throat.

“That was mean of me to say, that you have no friends. I know you do… I’m sorry I said it.” His mouth opens, then closes, his brows lowering.

“You’re always bitchy to me, it doesn’t surprise me.”

“And you’re always an ass to me.”

“Tch, I’m not gonna fawn over you like your little best friend does, if that’s what you mean.”

“No, every time I stay or hang out you tell me you can’t wait for me to leave, or are just mean as shit.” Sukuna rolls his eyes, looking up at the ceiling then, it’s true he is mean to you constantly.

Every time you stay, he’s picking on you or making snide remarks, to the point he’s made you cry sometimes, and then felt like shit. Nothing was worse than seeing you cry, but he didn’t know what else to do, because you’re haunting his every dream, even last night he was stroking his cock to a stupid Instagram picture of you.

The thing is, Sukuna wants you, and wants you badly, so much it makes him pathetic, his little brother’s best friend, who Sukuna knows has had some stupid crush on since forever. Sukuna’s only five years older than you, but twenty just seems too young, you seem too inexperienced, too innocent and sweet, the last thing you needed was him around you.

And he knew you had some little crush on him, most of knowing him, you used to literally make doe eyes at him, he found it sort of cute at first, but now you’re a whole woman, walking around in nothing half the time. He was happy you got a boyfriend, despite the odd clench in his chest from hearing it, only because he wouldn’t have to see you as much.

So, the best course of action?

Make you hate him, and he thinks it’s worked, you don’t make doe eyes, you’re not fawning over him, or pathetically trying to flirt. No, you’re just as mean to him as he is to you now, god and you scowling and flipping him off? That turns him on more than fucking anything, unfortunately.

“Fuck him.” Sukuna says, and you’re shocked for a moment, as you stare up at the guy you’ve had it bad for since you can remember, Yuuji’s older brother, you thought he was so cool, you were always coming over more and more to see him.

Yuuji was the best friend in the world, so it wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy hanging out with him, it’s just your mind kept wandering, Sukuna was always a grump, but something shifted in the past couple of years, especially this year. He was downright mean and nasty to you, making jokes, pinching on you, ruffling your hair, rolling his eyes whenever you were near.

If his goal was to make you hate him, you don't, you just really can't stand him. Can't stand seeing him shirtless seeing the tattoos around his biceps, down his strong chest, hate seeing his stupid abs that have abs!?! Why does he have to be such an attractive ass, you don't know, but your crush hasn't gone away.

It's worse.

Last night you'd seen Sukuna was here when you'd used the key Yuuji let you have, he was crashed out on the couch sprawled out, movie ended, you'd covered him with a blanket and given him a pillow. In his sleep he almost looked sweet, you thought, having slept in the guest room, he'd swirled in your mind, your boyfriend having cheated hurt, but thankfully you hadn't taken that step with him…

No, you stupidly still wanted Sukuna as your first.

As if that would happen, he hates you so much clearly, and you have seen the girls he brought over, older and more experienced, more confident and worldly. You weren't there yet, especially when the man you're wanting doesn't see you as anything but a little brat.

“Sukuna, are you comforting me?” Sukuna scoffs.

“Of course I'm not, but also… he's a fucking idiot. You don't deserve someone who does that shit.” You blink back tears then, stepping to him, hugging him.

Sukuna freezes, as he inhales that scent, something floral and irritatingly delicious, your soft breasts pressing against his chest, your nipples taut under the tank top. You're tiptoeing, holding him around his chest, he grimaces, wanting to pick you up and drag you to his room, but he shoves at you.

“Annoying brat, off me god.” You shake your head, snuggling closer, when he realizes you're crying. It annoys him how you wrench his heart when you look up, tears falling out of your stupidly pretty eyes.

Did you have to affect him this way?

“Thank you, Kuna.”

“Don't call me that, ugh.” He places his huge hands at your waist to shove you off, but you gasp at it, taking over your waist, burning your skin then. He falters, his breath coming faster as he holds you there, just a little off of him, eyes going to your lips, tempting him to no end. “Stupid nickname.” He grumbles.

“I… you used to not mind it. What happened to make you hate me so much?” You whisper, hands slipping up his chest, so much revealed in the soft white shirt he's wearing, you feel his heart thudding under your hand.

“Don't hate you, just you're annoying.”

“How?”

“Just being here.”

“So I annoy you just existing?”

“Yes.” He speaks through clenched teeth, when you lean back, and he views your body. “Why do you fucking dress like that!?”

“It's comfy. What do you care, Kuna?”

“Stop it with the stupid nickname. Your… your body annoys me.” He is whispering now, hands slipping down your hips, you let this little sound out from the back of your throat that destroys him then.

“My body, what not your type? Don't wanna see it?”

“You're so fucking stupid.”

“How can a body piss you off? Ah!” Sukuna had you picked up now right on the kitchen counter, your breaths come in pants at getting handled like this, his big hands on your thighs, his eyes boring into you.

“All I can think about is all the ways I wanna fucking ruin you for any stupid boy you'll ever meet.” Your heart thuds in your chest, blinking rapidly as if you're in a fucking dream.

“Wh-what?” He moans softly, rough pads of his fingers slipping up your thighs, watching the goosebumps rise everywhere.

“Thinking how good your little pussy tastes, how pretty your tits must be, how your face would look fucked out.” You're moaning out loud when he finds you then, lips hovering just an inch from yours, he moans when he finds your slick cunt dripping, he laughs then, softly. “That wet for me? Haven't even done shit.”

“Shut up and touch me, please, Sukuna.” The way that his name sounds from your lips? Your eyes dilating? Your wet cunt on his fingers? His cock starts throbbing from touching you, watching your face when he shoves a finger in your hole, you grip him like a vise.

“Anyone ever made you cum? Any of your dumb boys?” You grip his wrist when his fingers curl in your gummy walls, finding that spot instantly and pressing on it, making you gasp as you gush down his fingers. “Fuck you're wet, why are you so stupid tight, fuckin feel you…”

“Don't know… I… Kuna, m’a v-virgin, ngh!” He yanks away then, panic on his face. “Don't stop, please.”

“A virgin, how the fuck?” You whine out as he backs off, sucking you off his fingers, his cheeks moaning, those crimson eyes dilated, the hottest thing you have ever seen. “Why do you taste so good? God I can’t stand you.”

“Kuna, please… just…”

“No, I won’t do that, I sure the fuck won’t take that. How are you even…”

“I’ve been waiting.” You murmur, earning his brows raised, barring you on either side with his strong arms, leaning close.

“You what now?”

“For you, stupid.” Sukuna cups your face with one hand, hot as your overheated cheek, so close your breaths mingle.

“No way, I’m not doing that, it’s bad enough I even touched you, now you’ll be all I can think about, annoying little brat ruining me.” His words hit, your pussy throbbing around nothing then, you lean your head and kiss his palm, melting him as you do. “Don’t do shit like that.”

“Do you want me?” You ask, thighs on either side of him.

“What do you think?” He grabs your hips, and you feel him, huge and hard against you over the fabric of his pants and your shorts, he grabs you tight, you’re looking at those lips, usually in a smirk or a sarcastic grin, so pouty right now, begging for your kisses.

“Doesn’t have to be anything serious-”

“How can you say that? No, it would be.” You would end him the moment he got inside you, he already knows it, tasting your sweet arousal on his tongue, looking at the color your cheeks are tinged, imagining your face as his cock leaks precum against his boxers.

“I can be… casual…” You’re grinding on him, you’ve never felt this, the longing for him in this way, you’re jutting your chin up, trying to kiss him, but he pulls his face away, shaking his head. “Kiss me.”

“No way.” He won’t be able to stop, at least at this point he can rip himself off of you, taking several breaths, turning away from how delectable you look sitting with your thighs spread on his counter.

“I’ve seen all the women you bring over the years, why not me? You clearly are casual about it?” You hate the emotions in your throat. “Am I not…”

“If you say some dumb shit like you’re not attractive, I swear you’ll piss me off. Look at you.”

“You won’t look at me.”

“I can’t right now, I won’t just fuck you, especially your… first I… can’t. Just drop it, just forget it even happened.” You jump off the counter then, breathing fast, heart nearly pounding out of your chest.

“I’m sorry I asked.” He curses as you run off to the room, his head is spinning from your scent, your taste, the images now burned in his brain, your slick still on his fingertips.

He could never just take your virginity, what if he hurt you? What if he hurt you emotionally, he sure his entire life has never had a real girlfriend, he’s had hookups and booty calls, that’s it. And for the past year he’s pictured you half the time when he’s played with himself, when he’s slept with them, but he can’t do that, you deserved better than him surely.

You’re all dressed now, you stand there and look at him, he hates the tears that have streaked down your face, your bag on your shoulder. “You don’t have to leave, just leave me alone.” He says then, and you laugh without humor, shaking your head.

“I can’t face you after that, too embarrassing. Don’t even tell Yuuji I came over, please.” You go to leave and Sukuna stops you, a hand on the knob above you, his hard body towering behind you, you feel so small next to him, god who didn’t?

Sukuna runs his fingers down your spine, you shiver from the sensation, he leans close, his lips against your ear. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“No?” You look at him then, noses touching, so close.

“Everyone wants me, it’s fine brat.” He smirks, you glare then, smacking at his hand on the knob and pulling open the door.

“Fuck you, Sukuna.” You say, he grins at you like the asshole he is, but when you shut the door behind you, you don’t see him cursing himself, forehead resting on the door, his stomach sick.

Why’d he do that?

Why couldn’t he just give you what you wanted, what he wants so badly?

He’s terrified to disappoint you, but he already has.

*****

Two Weeks Later

“Please stay for dinner!? Please, please, please!” Yuuji begs you, literally on his hands and knees bowing, you giggle, shaking your head.

“No, I can’t… your brother-”

“He won’t bother you, he just yells at the game, it’s fine! Never used to bother you, and I miss you.” He looks up with sweet honey eyes, making you sigh then, nodding, he jumps up all excited. “Perfect, I need to show you the recipe my brother Cho showed me!”

“How is he? I miss him.” You say softly, Yuji’s other brother lived far away now, he was a sweetheart, much unlike Sukuna.

“He’s doing so well, his band is so popular now. I’ll tell him you said hi! You know he thought you were so pretty.”

“Cho did? No way.”

“Well who doesn’t, even Sukuna does.” You pause then, faltering as you look at the kitchen, where he’d had a long, thick finger inserted in your little hole. Where he’d tasted you.

“Um, I doubt all that. He hates me.” Yuuji shakes his head, checking his phone then. “Your girl?”

“We’re not dating yet, just talking, but we are going to a movie tonight. You know her, yeah?”

“Yes, she was so sweet in school.”

Sukuna walks in as Yuuji shows you their texts, his eyes darting to you, taking in your little pleated skirt and top with some dumb anime character you liked on it, you looked fucking adorable. So cute he hates it, so he scowls at you, earning your scowl right back, as Yuuji looks between you both.

“Woah, calm down. Sukuna, I have a date!” Sukuna’s heart drops, Yuuji surely would be good enough for you, he’s sweet (annoyingly sweet) and devoted. Choso and Yuuji were sweet, he’s not sure how he got all the asshole of the family, but he supposed it came from taking care of them both, being the oldest.

He should be a little relieved, you’d leave him alone now, right? You wouldn’t give him that look, he would finally know you’re untouchable, he clears his throat now, hating that his heart feels like it’s ripped in half. Just two weeks ago, the last time he saw you, he’d felt your heat, he’d had you begging for him, but he turned you down.

He did this.

“Finally, you two are going on a date, huh?” He says, trying to act casual, and Yuuji snorts, shaking his head, as your eyes go wide.

“Us, no! We’re too close, we’d never ruin our friendship. Though I sure asked her out a lot in school.”

“You tried.” You say with a little smile, as Sukuna stands there dumbfounded. “You’d never have liked dating me, I hate your zombie movies too much.”

“You have the worst taste, it’s true. Now, Sukuna, it's this girl…” Yuuji starts going on, and Sukuna can barely hold his composure, as he shows him a picture of her, as he’s rambling.

He was convinced his brother was in love with you, it’s a huge reason he has pushed you so far away, he’d never dishonor him like that, even if he knew you didn’t feel the same. He struggles to focus now, as you look down nervously, as if you could hear his thoughts, feel what he wants so badly.

“Thought you simped for the brat here.” He says, Yuuji laughs.

“No, she’s just a beautiful best friend.” He kisses your cheek and you smile warmly at him, it lights up your face, doing the annoying thing to his heart again. “If you’re not so mean, maybe she’ll stay for dinner.”

“Me, mean? Never.” You and Yuuji both roll your eyes at him.

“I don’t have to stay, Sukuna, I was just stopping by.” Your words break him down, remembering how mean he was, and he didn’t apologize, why should he though?

He should have said something.

You’re feeling his gaze on you, as he runs a hand through his pastel locks, the same shade as Yuuji but his are longer, messier, he has a little stubble on his cheeks you don’t remember seeing. As you further look, you see the dark circles under his eyes, how tense he is when he opens his mouth, just to close it, and re open it again, as if he doesn’t know what to say.

Sukuna is… on edge?

“You can stay, what do I care? Used to your ass around anyway.” He walks to his room then, and Yuuji excitedly talks to you, but your mind is in that room, with that asshole of a man.

The dinner is awkward as fuck, and when Yuuji leaves to get ready for his date, you hastily start washing your dish, you feel his gaze on you, he’s leaned back in the chair with his legs wide. You don’t dare say a word to him, you’re too mortified still, too confused, his one touch with no kiss has done more than anything you’ve experienced so far.

Awakened shit that was already there.

Made it worse.

“So you two never…” Sukuna trails off, leaving the question open, you look back at him as you dry your hand with a dish towel.

“Never what, dated? Of course not.”

“I thought the kid had it bad for you.” His voice is quiet, you clear your throat, shaking your head then.

“No, I tried to tell you, just friends. Yuuji is sweet and I love him, but I’ve never felt that way… like I…” Like with Sukuna. “Yeah, anyway, the girl is so sweet. I’ll head out when he does, don’t worry.”

Sukuna’s standing next to you before you can blink, he’s wearing this black dress shirt unbuttoned just so, revealing too much of his strong chest, pecs that are ridiculous, your eyes keep darting to it. To those collar bones, the black lines running along, making you wonder just where his tattoos stop, you physically back up, looking away then, unable to even look in his eyes.

“Running away, brat? Scared?” He raises a brow, you blink then, shaking your head. “Yeah you are.”

“Scared of what?”

“I’m ready guys! Oh… are you two gonna… hang out?” Yuuji asks with a little smile, you’re blushing then, shaking your head.

“Hang out with him? What, no.” Sukuna’s jaw clenches now, you smile as you feel how mad he is. “What?”

“What’s so wrong with me?”

“You’re an ass.”

“You’re a-”

“Okay, dumb question, don’t kill each other.” Yuuji does a little spin then, showing off his outfit, you giggle. “How do I look?”

“Amazing!” He kisses your cheek and hugs you then, just the sight of that alone has Sukuna infuriated, imagining kissing you.

What do your lips feel like?

Would they end him?

“She’s staying, she’s gonna… game with me.” Sukuna says then, you and Yuuji both look at him with shock. “Yeah, brat wants some lessons on Call of Duty.”

“Lessons? You game?” You want to burst out in laughter, the only video games you play involve very hot men on your phone.

Sukuna eyes you though, so intense it’s hard to breathe, you smile then, a little shy almost, realizing what he wants even though he’s not saying it. He wants to spend time with you, this shithead, this asshole of a man, he’s… he’s trying to express that he wants you to stay. And, to stay alone with him.

“I do wanna learn though, plus we should try to get along, hmm?” You look right at Sukuna, he’s not smirking or grinning, he’s vulnerable for a moment. His full lips parted just so in surprise.

“This makes me so happy. I love you both so much! If he pisses you off too bad, just text me.”

“What would you do, kid?” He demands.

“I’d… well I’d tell you to be nice.”

“I love you too.” You tell Yuuji then, and he runs off now to his date, leaving you alone in the kitchen again, with Sukuna. “Video games, huh?”

“Video games.” He answers, and before you know it, he’s right in front of you, gently holding you by your face, in a sweet manner you’d never think he could. “I want you, fuck I’ve wanted you for a long time now… but I thought you…” He’s trailing off, words escaping him.

“You thought Yuuji loved me, and you couldn’t do that.” You answer, everything starting to click now.

“That and you irritate the shit out of me. I don’t like what I feel.”

“What do you feel, Sukuna?” You step forward, arms wrapping around his thick waist then, he gulps visibly.

“Too much.” Is all he says, eyeing your lips hungrily.

“Maybe I feel too much. It’s scary, yeah?”

“I’m not scared of shit.” He’s leaning closer, you’re aching for him to just kiss you, licking your lower lip, tantalizing him as it turns glossy.

“If you’re not scared, then why are you so afraid to kiss me?” You whisper the words, his eyes flutter shut, a hand gripping your hair then at the nape of the neck, pulling it just so.

“Because I won’t stop there, I won’t stop till I’ve kissed every part of your body, till I’ve licked every part, until you’re cumming all over me.” Your little whimper from the back of your throat ruins him, he slams his lips down then, and it’s over.

Your kiss is messy, it’s desperate and sloppy, your tongues dripping saliva as he lifts you suddenly, you cling to him, thighs squeezing narrow hips, arms around his neck, your hand drifts through his undercut just so. He’s moaning as he kisses you so brutally, carrying you until you’re against a wall, pressing you there, you gasp for a breath while he starts licking down your throat.

“Kuna…” You’re arching against him, clinging tightly as he bites your throat, his big hands gripping your ass and squeezing.

“Hate that nickname. Hate how much I like it. Fuck you.”

You scowl, pulling away. “Fuck me for what?”

“Being so stupidly pretty. Driving me crazy forever. Fuck you for tasting so good, too.” You’re opening your mouth to protest, but he’s already carrying you to his bed, unceremoniously plopping you down on it, yanking off your top then, your breasts heave as your breaths come quickly, and he eyes you. “Fuck you for perfect tits.”

“Fuck you for being a dick.” You counter, but he’s gripping your breasts in his huge hands, squeezing them, sucking on your nipples, your hands enwrap in his pastel locks as he looks up at you, saliva strings dripping from your breasts. “Fuck that… feels s’good…”

“Fuck your sexy little moans, too.” You can’t be mad, not when he’s got your skirt off you, not when he’s ripping your panties to shreds, not when he eyes your pussy hungrily, shaking his head as he nips your inner thigh. “And fuck if you don’t have the most perfect pussy, what the…”

“Kuna, you’re c-crazy.” You whisper, he laughs then, breath tickling your cunt as he parts your plump lips, inhaling you like some psycho, burying his face. “Kuna!”

“Shut up, brat. Gonna ruin you for anyone.” He’s talking to your pussy it seems now, strong fingers pressing your thighs apart as he swipes a stripe up between your lips, licking you all the way from your hole to your clit, the sensation has your hips jerking, which he pins in place. “Ah- ah brat, stay still.”

“S’too much… I… oh my god.” Sukuna is devouring your pussy, there’s no other term for it, the way he laps at your pussy with his stupidly long tongue, his eyes bright red when they look at you, when he flicks it to your clit. You’re soaking him, hands pulling at his hair, earning his groan against you. “Wh-what… you’re… I…”

“Shut up, brat, I want to hear you cum, not run your mouth.” You should be offended, but you can’t be, not when he’s fucking your velvety walls with his tongue now, pinching your clit with two of his fingers, the stimulation far too much, you feel it, the pressure building in your core, spreading.

“Kuna!” You’re screaming that nickname, he doesn’t care in fact he loves hearing it, loves your pussy drooling around his tongue, he feels your walls tighten around his wet muscle then, looking up at your face, mouth open wide in an O, eyes rolled back, your hands yanking his hair out, and he knows you’re cumming for him.

He’s grinding his cock on the mattress, aching to be inside you, but he also wants to make you beg for it, wants to make you pathetic for him, only him. You’re cumming so blinding, stars bursting everywhere behind your eyelids, your body convulsing as you’re gushing all over his handsome face. You feel his grin against you when he pulls back his tongue, slipping two fingers inside.

“Hear how slutty she is, huh? So slutty thought you were a good girl.” He huffs, you’re reeling from cumming so hard when he quickly finds your g spot, as if he knew your body forever. “Can’t talk? Pathetic.”

“F-fuck… you I… it’s too much!” You whine, he’s scissoring those two fingers in and out of your now soppy little hole, you do hear it, the wetness so fucking loud, he’s licking your clit now, sucking it into his mouth, you’re pushing over the edge again. “Both!? I c-can’t!”

“Mmm, you can, cum again, pretty slut. Lemme drink it.” You’re trying to close your thighs, but he forces them open, smacking at one, shaking his head. “Again, y’can do it.”

“S’too much…” You’re whining over and over, it is so much pleasure you have trouble comprehending a thought, when he crooks his fingers in your gooey walls, and sucks your clit again, you’re shattering.

“Mmm, there you go, you can do it can’t ya?” He’s cooing to you, smirk on his features, that are coated in your slick.

“Please!” You’re yanking him up, he chuckles a bit, letting you, hovering over you with his strong arms, as he wipes your chin with one hand.

“You’re fucking drooling, god, fucked out already? Can you handle me?” He raises a brow, you want to retort, but you are fucked out, you came more than you ever have, now you’re opening your mouth and closing it. “Can’t talk, stupid brat?”

“F-fuck off… ass…” You manage, earning him more hard for you, kissing you deeply, you taste yourself then, but even more when he shoves his fingers in your pussy, scooping out more arousal, shoving them in your mouth.

“Suck them like a good girl, there ya fuckin go, pretty little slut.” You’re in tears from overstimulation as you suck him eagerly. “So ya can follow directions, ha… didn’t know that mouth could shut.”

“Shut it.” You whisper, pulling back with a pop, he falters at your seductive words, shaking his head.

“You sucked dick?”

“N-no.” You admit, he sighs then.

“Look, maybe not the first time.”

“Sukuna, are you being caring?” You tease, his brows lower, lips pressing in a firm line.

“No! Just… you need a lot of workup and… will you stop smiling like that!? Stop looking at me that way.”

“Like what?” You tease, hands unbuttoning him shakily, he pulls back then, taking a breath as he looks down at your pretty body, and you reveal more of his chiseled frame.

“Like… that. Like you’re…”

“In love with you?” His jaw tenses again.

“Shut it, now.”

“I am, stupid ass. Don’t know why.” You sit up when he stands, eagerly unbuttoning his pants, his heart races like he’s the virgin, brain short circuiting when you slip them down, his boxers following.

“I… you… shouldn’t…” He doesn’t remember what he was saying, you’re too sexy, too pretty, your words he’s never thought he’d hear. “You don’t love me. Don’t say it.”

“I do, and I will say it.”

“Then why did you ask for… casual!?”

You’re blushing when his cock is revealed, and it’s massive, thick and heavy, his reddened tip drooling precum. It’s so big you can’t understand how it would fit, your hand barely circles the girth, looking so tiny against him, he’s ridiculously big. You nervously look up, seeing his eyes dilated, his lashes lowered, Sukuna’s hands come to enwrap in your loose hair, gripping it.

“Answer me, brat. Now.”

“Because if that’s how you want to, I’ll do it. I want you, I have wanted you.” He exhales, jerking when you lick his tip.

“I don’t want to be casual with you, okay!?” You smile, he rolls his eyes. “Don’t you dare smile like that. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna be all mushy and dumb.”

“I don’t want to be casual either.” He cups your face with his other hand, groaning when your hot mouth starts sucking him in, there’s too much of him, you barely get the tip and an inch or two, swirling your tongue, tasting the salty precum, his musky scent filling your nostrils.

“F-fuck…” Sukuna’s stuttering, you swear you hear him whine, but you wonder if it’s a trick of your ears, his hand on your face shaky when he starts thrusting his cock in your mouth, eyes locked on yours. “Stupidly pretty brat.”

He might as well say ‘my love’ or ‘darling’ because your body reacts, already having had so much pleasure you’re wet again, when he yanks you more on his cock, shoving it deeper. You’re breathing through your nose as he fucks your throat, as he’s gasping and moaning out your name, you finally think you have a rhythm when he pulls you off.

“Was it okay?” You ask nervously, he shoves you on your back, between your thighs in an instant then, you gasp for breath.

“Okay? Sucked it like some pro. You lyin’ t’me?” You giggle, shaking your head and catching his gaze.

“Watch porn though.”

“Porn ain’t shit to what I’m gonna do.” You’re crying out as his tip leaks precum along your clit, biting your lip when he’s pressing into your tight ring of muscles, your nails dig into his back, feeling the taut skin. “If we do this, you’re never fucking anyone, never. Fuckin got me brat?”

You blink a bit, as his tip presses in, stretching your skin. “You love me too, don’t you Kuna?” You tease, he scoffs, but then nods just a bit, and kisses you, pressing past your barrier, you gasp at it, at the pain, being stretched by him. “Ow! Shit!”

“Shit… y-you’re too tight… loosen the fuck up, brat.” You glare up at him, throbbing from the pain now, he’s barely holding on.

“I can’t. Y-you’re an idiot!”

“Running your mouth?”

“You’re too big!”

“Fuck…” He eases back, leaning up on an elbow, hand slipping down and rolling on your clit. “Relax, annoying ass. Even your pussy is stubborn.”

“You’re… so… ah!” His circles are rough, calloused thumb pressing on your little engorged clit, when he sinks in again.

“Relax, now.” His husky voice gives you that order, you do so then, exhaling and looking into his eyes, that are so dark they look black, you nod weakly. “You… are you alright?”

“You care, aw.” You can’t help it, you’re grinning all fucked up.

He glares again, this time thrusting deep, you scream out at it, he moans, biting your neck again, big hand gripping your thigh and lifting it higher. “Fucking feel her, gripping me my god. She’s mine, huh?”

“Y-yours, Kuna.” Your little whimper destroys him, your cunt pulsing around him, stretching and getting wetter to accommodate, and he begins actually fucking you then, you’re so wet, hot and tight he can’t stand how good it feels, he’s already dreaming of breeding this little cunt as you convulse under him.

“F-fucking love it, slutty little pussy.” His words along with his tip dragging against that spot in your walls send you reeling, you hear it now the skin smacking, his balls slapping your ass, wetness squelching when he pulls back, gripping your hips with a wicked grin. “Look, fucking your guts up, huh?”

He forces your chin to look down at the ridiculous bulge in your tummy, you gasp at it, clinging to his sheets now, so full when he sinks more of his cock in you, so much you don’t think he’ll fit fully, he’s already slamming your cervix. His hands slip up your hips, yanking you down further, you scream out at how good it feels.

“Ruin you, no one… n-no one’s gonna do this, yeah?” He leans over just a bit, fucking you harder, thrusts so rough your tits jiggle, your body moves. “Use you as my little fuck toy, pretty toy, so fucked out and stupid.”

“Ngh!” You are stupid, your eyes are rolling back, you’re drooling, incapable of doing anything but pulsing on his cock now, of desperately clinging to him.

“S-say it, brat.” He’s shoved his cock so deep, your cunt is dripping down his veiny length, you’re whimpering desperately, nodding. “That’s it, cum f’me, lemme feel her clamp down. F-fuck, there she is…”

Now Sukuna is full of nonsense, you’re both mumbling as he does ruin you for anyone, as you ruin him for anyone, he’s kissing you sloppy, his tattooed hand wraps your throat. He squeezes just so, you’re fading as he rails your cunt, muttering filthy, nasty words, you were a virgin, but he sure the fuck wasn’t taking it easy.

Well, you didn’t think he was, Sukuna actually is taking it easy.

He’ll wait before he goes where he wants to, but you so eagerly open your mouth for his spit, desperately cumming all over his cock then. “Made f’me, pussy she’s m-mine, hmm?”

You’re getting choked, swallowing spit, and this asshole asks you a question? You manage a nod, as he slows finally, releasing your throat, hand slipping up your titty to pinch your nipple, hips rolling just so, jerking his cock against your bruised cervix. You’re a stupid mess under him, sputtering when he finally slows his rhythm, when he thickens impossibly in you.

“I’m never pulling out of you, on something?” He huffs, you blink in confusion as he grins. “Asked ya a question brat.”

“On… pill… mmm…” He moans now, exhaling.

“Good, hah-” He thrusts deep again, you’re fluttering around his length. “Wouldn’t pull out anyway. I’d knock you the fuck up, breed your slutty cunt.” You’re done for, when he starts spurting cum, crying out in your ear, taking over everything with his huge body on top of you, in you, around you. He’s cumming so much it’s ridiculous, coating your walls, filling your belly full. “Oh f-fuck… fuckin love you…”

You blink as you come to, as your cum and his are pushed out with each thrust, your thighs shaking, head buzzing from pleasure. He looks at you then, eyes desperate, biting his lower lip while you put it together. “You love me, Kuna?”

“Shut up.” You smile when he kisses you again, and well… you don’t just fuck once for your first time.

You’re fucking in the shower to ‘clean up’ and then he’s got you up on the counter, devouring your pussy again, seeing how many times you can cum, soon he’s got his game going, showing you the controls as you’re cockwarming him. You’re so sore no amount of ibuprofen will fix it, but you want more, you’re grinding on him as you wear his headset, getting shot hopelessly by the players.

That’s where Yuuji finds you all, your tits out, Sukuna half naked, big hands on your hips with his cock inside you, you gasp then, covering your tits with your hands, but Sukuna just laughs, kissing on your shoulders. Yuuji covers his face, turning away quickly in embarrassment.

“K-kuna… s-stop…” You whisper, but Yuuji waves at you all, covering his eyes with a smile.

“You’re getting along!”

“Um… yeah.” You manage, and Sukuna’s laughing so hard it’s annoying, he doesn’t pay attention to your glare.

“Cool… um… bye.” He hides in his room, you try to get up, but Sukuna has you pinned down, tilting your head and kissing you.

“You’re insane, Sukuna.”

“You love that shit.”

“Shush. Show me the… g-game…”

The teammates are very curious why Sukuna started sucking at Call of Duty that day, but he has his new very annoying girlfriend to blame, she’s just squeezing his cock too good.

A/N I really have been feeling some Sukuna latelyyy, I hope ya'll enjoyed the smut aha!! <3

Taglisttt: @yenayaps @schlokki @elliesndg @thelightknight21 @attackonnat @indiewritesxoxo @sylussss7 @ninikrumbs @zezedoesshit @iveiveim @spacefae-x @maomimii @moonchhu @jinxiewritings perma tags- @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @makingtimemine @aldebrana

[stormberry-12]

sunshine and sarcasm // P1: oh god, it talks? ~ lando norris x reader

pairing: lando norris x fem!introvert!piastri!reader

warnings: slight language, creepy guy.

notes: Let me know if I should make another part, wasn't really sure if I wanted it to end here. Also, ignore that the timeline doesn't line up... xxx

You walked through the bustling paddock in search of the bright orange garage-

Sorry, papaya.

Your older brother, Oscar, had his face and race number plastered above the overhead door. It was the Australian Grand Prix and your entire family had been invited to experience it in person. You actually didn't even live in Australia anymore. You had been working out of the country for many years, perfecting your craft and experiencing great opportunities outside your hometown. So this early pop-up to free practice was surely a surprise for Oscar.

"Y/n/n?"

"Osco!!" he crushed you in a hug.

"What are you doing here? I thought you had work, mum wasn't even sure you'd make it for the race Sunday-"

"I wanted to surprise you," you grinned back at him, "If I can only make it for one race a year I want to experience the whole shebang! Even the practice sessions,"

"Oh mate, I'm so excited!" Oscar exclaimed, with the most enthusiasm his personality offered. To some, his tone may have sounded sarcastic but you knew, by the glint in his eyes, that he was genuinely happy you were here. "Shit- I have media, but then I could totally show you around, the second round of free practice doesn't start for another few hours,"

"Sounds good!" you smiled, Oscar's gaze trailed over to his teammate standing on the other side of the garage. You knew who Lando Norris was, from interviews with Osc, but you had never actually met him.

"I can introduce you to Lando too, he's great,"

"I'm good," you mumbled and your brother chuckled. There were definitely similarities, personality-wise, between you and your brother. You didn't need to meet Lando and you didn't want to meet him. From certain clips online you were sure his loud persona would be way too much for you-

"OSCAH!" The Brit yelled making both of your heads turn back to him. Proving your previous thought. "GET OVAH HERE YOU'RE SLOW!"

"Oh god, it talks?" you hissed.

"He is a person, and yes he talks." Oscar scolded, "He's very nice, don't be rude."

He gently elbowed you in the side, before walking towards the other racing driver and a set of cameras. You went and sat upstairs at some tables, putting your headphones in and waiting for your brother.

Once you were out of earshot, Lando turned to his teammate, "Who's the lady?"

"Oh, my sister. Well one of them, I have three." Oscar replied.

"Huh..." Lando hummed, hesitating, "Think you could introduce me?"

"Mateee," Oscar grumbled, already knowing where this was going. It wasn't the first time he had to tell one of his friends that you weren't interested.

"Pleaseee Osc?" Lando pleaded, Oscar side-eyed him hard.

"You know, I offered to introduce her first and she said 'I'm good.'"

"Ouch,"

"I'm sure it's nothing personal, she's just a bit introverted and grumpy-"

"Runs in the family I see..."

"-and then you proceeded to yell very Britishly across the entire room," Oscar finished, ignoring his teammate's jab.

"What do you mean 'Britishly'?" Lando chuckled.

"What do you mean 'runs in the family'?"

"Touche,"

"Oh my god," a loud giggle interrupted your peace, you lifted your head to see the two Mclaren boys on the floor playing Twister. You hadn't meant to catch them in the filming process but you couldn't deny it was quite entertaining.

You removed an earbud to hear Lando mumble, "What a sight that is..."

You chuckled to yourself, Osc was squatted with his butt right in Lando's face, both giggling uncontrollably.

"I'm in... such a bad place right now." Oscar sighed.

"I'm like in the splits," they giggled once more.

"Left foot yellow," one of the Mclaren media team instructed, after spinning the wheel for them. You stood up and walked over to the crew, exchanging smiles and waves with some of them.

"Oscahhh,"

"We can't be on the same sticker can we?" Oscar shook with laughter.

They mumbled something incoherent, Lando's voice cracked slightly, "Ahhhh, my voice is gone. Oscah call it quits. YOUR LEFT FOOT IS NOT GOING BETWEEN MY LEGS!"

Everyone laughed, both drivers looked up noticing your presence.

"Y/n/n help me!" Oscar pleaded.

"Y/n/n tell your brother he's lost!" Lando countered, smirking over at his teammate. You houghed, wondering who this guy thought he was, using Oscar's nickname for you. To be fair though you hadn't properly introduced yourself.

"Sorry Osco," you smiled at him, "It's not looking too good for you..."

Oscar tried to maneuver his body once more, before standing up and accepting defeat, "That's it, I'm done-"

"Yeh, he's called it. I win!" Lando cheered.

They cut the cameras and you waved at your brother, "Alright, I'm going to find lunch Osc, I'll find you later,"

The bustling paddock was a lot to take in, you had asked around the garage to see if anyone knew of a nice outdoor spot to eat. But after noticing that the few picnic benches close by were all occupied, you sighed in defeat. Holding your food bag close to your chest, you retreated to the McLaren garage.

However, a hard hit to your back made you stumble and drop your food, content spilling all over the ground.

"Whoops, sorry gorgeous," A man snarled, chuckling. His eyes were narrowed at you as a sickly grin spread across his face. "Hey, what's a pretty lady like you doin' all alone around here,"

"Just getting lunch," you replied curtly, avoiding eye contact. "And I'm not alone-"

"Well, that hasn't gone too great so far has it," He put an arm around your shoulders and you froze. "My apologies, come with me let me buy you something to eat,"

"No. Thank you. I'm headed to—uhm—find my boyfriend anyway, " you lied, scrambling out of his grasp and towards the garage.

"Oh come on gorgeous," his large strides met yours as you walked away.

"Please leave me alone, I'm not interested."

He grabbed your wrist pulling you to face him, hot breath hitting your face. You shook slightly, preparing to kick him with all your might, and start screaming-

"Y/N/N!" a voice yelled.

British.

The accent gave away who it was, but honestly, at this moment you didn't care, as Lando Norris' arms wrapped firmly around you from behind. You pulled your arm out of the other man's grip and he took a step back.

"Do we got a problem here mate?" Lando spoke, his sharp tone catching you by surprise. You clung to the top of one of his arms that draped around your shoulders and the man eyed the both of you in annoyance.

"No. Just trying to help the lady out," he houghed, you felt Lando's chest heave against your back.

"Well, I believe as she probably told you before, she's quite all right on her own," Lando responded cooly. By this point crowds of people, which often formed when Lando Norris was around, watched and whispered at the scene unfolding in front of them.

"Okay-" The man turned to leave.

"Hey, asshole." Lando spoke again, the anger you felt radiating off his body now leaving his mouth. Wishing you could see his face at that moment, you squeezed his bicep in a silent plea to let it go. Not wanting to cause more of a scene than you already had. "Don't just walk away, apologise to her."

You hesitantly made eye contact with the man across from you. And after spoiling your lunch, pestering you, and invading your space he mumbled one simple half-hearted word.

"Sorry," and walked away.

Lando gently released you and you slowly angled your body to face him. Not making eye contact, you scanned the people around that had clearly watched but were now avoiding your gaze.

"Oh god, I've caused a scene," you whispered.

Lando chuckled, making your face heat, "You're so much like your brother," You met his blue gaze, "It's okay. Are you okay?"

"Oh um- yes thank you for..."

"No worries, that guy was pissing me off," he mumbled, something flashing in his eyes, suddenly shy he added, "Sorry if I uh- crossed the line there-"

"It's alright..." you said softly, "I should get going, thanks again-"

"Wait! Let me walk you?" he offered with a small smile, "We need to get you more lunch right?"

You nodded and started towards the McLaren garage for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Lando followed by your side in silence, glancing over at you multiple times, seeming to ponder a conversation starter.

Hating small talk you quickly offered something else, "Want to see some embarrassing photos of Oscar?"

His face split into a grin, shaking his head excitedly. You pulled out your phone and started scrolling through some of the most horrendous photos that you had taken of your brother over the years. Including baby photos of course, and 'Vines' that you had made in your teenage years that made Lando squeal with laughter.

Your chest fluttered slightly at his warm laugh, so engrossed in your memories that you hadn't even noticed how casually he held your elbow and pulled you to the side. Only a few steps away from the garage and not wanting to end the moment.

"Wait, go back!" he giggled. You had landed on a horribly angled photo of your brother at the ripe age of 13, glaring at you angrily through the camera.

"His hair is so bad!" You wheezed.

"Can I just-" he held out his hand and you offered your phone. He took it and quickly typed in a phone number to send himself quality Oscar photos. "Thank you so much. My life is complete," he joked, handing the phone back to you.

"No problem," you laughed, smiling up at him.

His cheeks turned pink, and he spoke softly, "So are you-"

"LANDO!" he was suddenly called by one of the McLaren mechanics.

"Oh shit," he cursed checking his watch, slowly stepping away from you, "Sorry, I gotta go- shit -um I'll see ya around okay?!"

He gave you a wave, turning before you could answer, and jogging over to his team. You waved back hesitantly, but just like that he was gone. You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and began walking in the other direction, wondering if he had turned back over his shoulder.

Why did you want to look back?

You continued your adventures around the paddock, getting food and the tour that Oscar had promised. You had missed him truly, he was one of your best friends as a kid and still was. It still felt strange adjusting to your lives as adults.

Eventually, it was time for him to head back and get in the car for another practice session. A group of fans surrounded Oscar for autographs, and he shot you a sympathetic look which you waved off with a smile. Standing off to the side, you pulled out your phone in an attempt not to look awkward, surprised by the many texts you had missed.

Oscar looked over your shoulder, catching you by surprise, "Who are you texting?"

You jumped, "No one-"

He gave you a confused face and then smirked at your screen, "Heh, is mum mad?"

Your face snapped back down to your phone, one of the other people to text you was your mother. You noticed her last message was in all caps and quickly opened it, color draining from your face.

Turned out Lando didn't need to tattle on you anyway.

And good god indeed.

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Hello! I would like to make a request about Dae-Ho, a character I love. I would like the story to show how Dae-Ho and the reader develop a special connection during the games, despite being on opposite sides. She is part of Thanos' team, but they still interact frequently. On one of those nights, they kiss and promise to get to know each other better once it's all over. However, that promise is not fulfilled because she dies in the carousel game.

I hope this story fits the bill. Happy holidays! <3

Anything Is Possible?

KANG DAE-HO X READER

Summary- You are number 230's, rapper Choi Su-bong, sister. Just because you are on 'Thanos Team', does that mean you can Dae-Ho cant get together? Will you survive long enough?

Warnings- Squid Games, Angst, mentions of blood, murder, and death

A/N- I combined this ask with another anon request, "badass reader and daeho! maybe she is related to 100 and that's why the romance is kind of forbidden but she doesn't agree with his actions and thinks daeho is very cute. I would love a first kiss between the two, which she initiated and he was all embarrassed but really excited" I hope y'all don't mind, they were very similar!

Word Count- 4,605

"What is your problem!" You found yourself yelling at your brother. While this was not uncommon, the situation surely was. Thanos the rapper, or just known as Choi Su-bong to you, had pushed several people down on purpose. This killed them in the Red light, Green light game.

"You killed them!" You continued, though he did not seem to care.

"Look, as far as 'The Thanos' is concerned, each body means more cash for MOI!" He spoke, uncaring.

"Oh, and if it was me, would you let me get shot!" You crossed your arms, eyeing him up and down.

He looked around, checking for any guards. He then slipped out his cross form under his shirt. You knew he had some kind of drug in there.

"Look, if it will shut you up, you can have one. But keep your mouth closed!" He ushered his cross in your direction. You rolled your eyes.

"I'd like to at least be aware of my surrounding in a death defying game!" "Shhh, Shhhh!" His face scrunched up as he looked at you, offended. He thought someone might have been drawn to your choice words.

You scoffed and walked off, sitting on the edge of a bed to catch a train of thought.

With a puff, you pressed your head into your hands. Could you really go on like this? Risking your life? Then it hit you, your life was over either way. Loan sharks were bound to kill you the second you left... Might as well go out with a bang?

The gruesome thought lingered until you felt the bed sink next to you.

"Thanos, I don't want to-" You looked up to not see your brother. Instead a man with a '388' on his jacket.

"Well I'm not sure who 'Thanos' is, but are you doing okay?" He looked genuinely concerned.

You started at him for a second, "Like fifty people just died..."

He faltered, "W-well yeah... Obviously you aren't okay... I just, I saw you arguing with that guy... The one with purple hair." You sigh again at his response. Well, this might be the last conversation you ever have. Why not be an open book!

"That's my brother. He thinks since he got one hit song, he can boss anyone around." You again rolled your eyes at the thought of him.

"Oh... I see. I-I have three older sisters, I know how it can get." He said, trying to offer you some sort of condolence.

You gave a side smile at him, appreciative of his efforts. "Thanks... What got you into these games?" You figured there's no reason for 'proper exchanges.' What was the point anymore?

He seemed ashamed at the question. "Sorry, if it makes you feel any better- I'm about 30 million won in debt. Some online crypto coin my brother swindled me into. Lost big time." You explained.

He shook his head, "No, no, its fine. See, I was a marine. Couldn't find a job after I got out. Guess I just got carried away with the wrong people... Got into some bad loans."

You gave a sympathetic face. "That sucks..." He just nodded sheepishly.

A silence fell between you two, but it wasn't awkward or annoying. It just...was.

"Well, uh, which are you going to vote?" He asked like it had been on the tip of his tongue all day.

As the Guards had told us earlier, we would get a chance to vote before the next game. Stay or Go.

"My brother seems pretty adamant on staying... And I honestly don't think it would be smart to piss him off anymore. He's got me in his little clique already." You didn't really know which one you would have chosen if the vote was anonymous.

He nodded in understanding. "I mean, I don't have a groupie or anything. But, you could stick with me if you wanted."

Your heart fluttered. Looking up at him, you seemed to just notice how handsome he was... Then reality hit.

"I deeply appreciate that... But I think you might have better odds without me. Choi- uh Thanos, would probably do something to you... I don't really want to risk it, I'm sorry." You knew that you really did want to be on his team, but you also knew how your brother was.

He had a slight look of defeat on his face, "I get it. I feel confident about the next game. I mean, if they're all children games, how hard can it be? I'll vote the same as you."

You agreed, "Then, maybe I can talk to Thanos? See if he wants another member?" You smiled at him.

He opened his mouth to speak, happily, but the two of you were interrupted when the pink guards came back in. Letting everyone know it was time to vote.

"See ya on the other side." You said, standing up to rejoin Thanos. Plus his newly acquired group of 3.

"Yes ma'am!" He responded, giving a small salute. You just laughed as you glanced at him a last time.

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

"Are you crazy!" Thanos whisper-yelled at you, turning the two of you away from the group. "Are you tryna embarrass me in front of my boys!" He scolded you like a child. His arms and shoulders going up.

"It's not that big of a deal, he was a marine, he could be good for us." Thanos just "tsked' in response.

"No. We are already perfecto. No more room." He said as-a-matter-of-fact. His arms making an 'X.'

You turned and looked at the two men staring at you. "Thanos, there are four of us in total. What if the next game is five players!"

"Huh, and what if its four! Then I'd be pushing YOU out, Cause of ya mouth." He made faces at you, then laughed loudly. "I'm just joking sistah! I'd only do that if you really pissed me off.... We are sticking to four." His expression turned serious.

"Fine."

At a mere coincidence, you turned around and saw '388' staring at you. You mouthed a 'sorry' and shook your head. Signalling Thanos said 'no.'

He nodded, then smiled at you anyways. At that, you watched him walk over and sit with a group of 'X's.

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

The lights soon went out. You laid back in your bed, trying to get some kind of sleep. It was useless, especially when you heard a 'psst' right next to you.

You turned your head, playing cool, even though it did startle you a bit. "Shh, It's just me." The voice rang familiar, and when you squinted your eyes in the dark your made out number 388's face. He was on his knees, crouched down next to your bed.

"What are you doing!" You whispered at him, sitting up quickly. Thanos and his two members were just a bed away.

"Shhhh, I have something to tell you." He said, his hands were waving slightly, a nervous tick.

You eyed him, moving closer. "What?"

"One of the guys has played these before. He said he won the games...That he knows which one is next."

Your hands rise to rub sleep from your eyes, "Really? You think he's telling the truth?"

With a frantic nod he continues, "It was the guy who knew about the Red light, Green light. Number 456."

You looked down, "Why are you telling me this..." You questioned, unaware of any kind of unconditional kindness.

"I want you to survive, why else?" You locked eyes with him. They were honest and pure.

"Well, what's the next game?" You didn't know how to respond to such generosity. For all he knew you would stab him in the back. Not that you could bring yourself to, not after he snuck over to tell you.

"He said its Dalgona. Ya know, the game where you scratch out the candy shape?" You knew the game, having played it in your youth.

"Make sure you pick the Triangle. It's the easiest one." You nodded.

At that, a shuffle made both of you turn your head. Thanos moved in his sleep, rolling over. His eyes were closed, but he was now facing you.

"You better go, in case he wakes up." You warned, not wanting any drama.

His head shook in agreeance, he raised to walk off.

"Wait!" You whispered, he looked back. "What's your name?"

"Dae-Ho. Dae-ho Kang."

"Thank you, Dae-ho..." The corners of your face rose, almost grinning at yourself saying his name.

He gave a small wave of his hand, another salute. You suppressed a giggle, and laid back down. Sleep came easier this time...

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

"Welcome to your second game, this game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of five in the next ten minutes."

You looked around, Dalgona was not a team game. Had Dae-Ho lied to you? No, why else would he sneak over in the middle of the night. It didn't make sense. Maybe 456 was lying?

"Should have listened to me, now we have to find another person." You remarked to your brother, smugly.

"Trust trust, my skeptic sister. Thanos has got this under control!" He spoke about himself, immediately levitating to the closest attractive women. You, once again, found yourself rolling your eyes.

"Señorita, excuse me?" You wanted to physically face palm at his attempt at a pickup line.

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

Quickly enough, time selection was up. Everyone was orderly sat in their groups. Conveniently, Dae-Ho and his group sat behind you.

"Dae-Ho." You called, moving to be in his range of sight.

"Ahh, hey!" He said, excitedly. His demeanor changing from skittish when he saw you.

"So, what happened to Dalgona?" You asked, not blaming him- just curious.

He gave an unsure face, equally as confused. "He said the games must not be the same. I'm sorry."

"What for?" You beamed, knowing it was not his fault.

He laughed, "I guess I don't know.."

You just shook your head humorously. "Which game are you going to do?"

"Uhmm, Gong-Gi... My sister's played it a lot, so I'm used to it."

"They've got me doing spinning top. I was never any good at Gong-Gi." You made a glance to Thanos, he was high out of his mind. You caught him slipping Nam-Gyu a pill. He didn't notice you talking to Dae-Ho.

"I wish you the best of luck!" He gave a quick bow of the head.

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

The game went smoothly enough. Though, it took much longer than Red light, Green light. Watching all of the teams go one at a time was excruciating.

A handful of words exchanged with Dae-Ho while waiting was calming, it grounded you. He had nothing to gain by helping you, he simply did. It was flattering.

You and Dae-Ho had figured out that his team was going last. It was nerve-wracking to think about him not making it. No one had ever effected you like this before...

Eventually your team went, suffering frequent verbal degration from Thanos and Nam-Gyu. Thankfully your team made it with 8 seconds to spare. Too close for your comfort.

The worst part came when you had to wait. You felt like you could hear a large clock ticking right by your ear.

Would Dae-Ho's team make it? You didn't doubt his Gong-Gi skills, but he was dependent on the skills of his team mates as well. It was terrifying to think they were shot with not enough time to complete the games.

You couldn't bare Thanos bantering, he complained about every survivor. It just made you more paranoid about Dae-Ho's possible death.

Trying to settle your mind, you stepped away from your group, preferring to sit by yourself on the edge on the steps. You picked at your nails, praying he would make it.

Minutes and minutes went by. No one had come out in a while. Was the game finished? Did they die?

Just as you were about to return to your brother hopeless, one last group appeared.

A gasp left you as you watched Dae-Ho's team emerge. You stood up, cheering with a handful of other players. Your hands were clasped gleefully In front of you.

Dae-Ho's gaze was fixed on you, he chuckled. His first raised in victory.

You gave him a salute back.

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

You managed to slip away from Thanos. He was too busy hitting on Se-Mi. You were grateful for her, it took some of the pressure and attention off of you. You had to remember to thank her later.

"Dae-Ho!" You called out, he turned around and stepped away from his group.

"You were amazing! You went 'Wooshhh' and got the top first try!" He was practically bouncing on his heels. He mimicked the process of spinning a top with his hands and body.

"Thank you, Thank you." You pretended like you were bowing to an applauding audience.

"How did Gong-Gi go?" You asked, antsy. He rubbed the back on his neck.

He grinned deep, "Would you believe me if I said I got it first try too?"

Your face lit up, "Really!"

"I swear it!" He placed a hand across his chest.

You gave a quick clap to him, "I knew you could do it!"

You felt like a schoolgirl again. Talking to Dae-Ho made you feel like a blushing bride. He was such a ray of light and hope for you.

"What do you think the next game is?" He questioned, taking a seat on a step by the large doors.

You thought for a second, "I don't know, Maybe some kind of mind game. Since the last two have been really physical."

He nodded, "Yeah, maybe, maybe. Thats smart thinking."

You joined him on the step facing him. While you were about to change the conversation, you overheard a few people talk about what they were voting next. It reminded you of the real life-or-death situation you were in.

"So, d'ya think you're going to change your vote?" You became more solemn.

"...Yeah, I just... The others have convinced me. I mean, truly, I shouldn't have voted 'stay' in the first place..." He looked down, almost as if he had disappointed you.

"Honestly, Dae-Ho... I want to leave too... But, but, what if I press 'leave', and we still have to continue the games. Then Thanos would be pissed, and deep down I need him. He's still my brother." You hated the fact, but you were scared of what Thanos would do.

Dae-Ho thought for a moment. He mumbled something you didn't quite catch. "What?" He stood up.

"I can protect you. Honest. With my life." Your breath hitched, you stood up as well.

You shook your head, a lump forming in your throat. "Oh Dae-Ho... That's just the thing. I can't have you risking your life. Not for me."

He gently lifted your hands into his. "You are worth risking my life for."

"Dae-Ho, you don't even know my name." Your voice quivered.

He nodded quick, "Then lets change that. What's your name." You bit your bottom lip before telling him.

"Now, I can defend you from Thanos. He won't do anything to do." He ended with your name, it sounded angelic coming from his mouth.

"I'm sorry... I just... can't." You let go of his hands, fully set on walking away. But, he stopped you. He grasped your shoulder.

"Please don't go. I'll stop talking about it, I swear." He pleaded. He truly just wanted to be with you, he was content with you.

And you were with him.

You closed your eyes, shook your head. You fought off any kind of objection. "Okay."

The two of you talked and talked, time ran past. You no longer seemed to worry about the games, just that you knew you wanted to stay with Dae-Ho.

Until, the large doors opened and the pink guards once again announced a vote.

You said a quick 'goodbye' to Dae-ho, hoping the games wouldn't continue. Even if you never saw him again, at least he would be alive.

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

Much to your dismay, the games would continue another round. The vote wasn't even close this time. It was almost relieving, knowing that your vote was not the determining factor.

Once again, the lights went out to signify the night. You noticed teams were huddling together for protection, taking shifts and keeping watch. It was getting more serious as each hour went by. You could not find rest, feeling extremely uneasy.

While you tried to find some sort of reassurance in Thanos, he was fast asleep. You decided to take your chance and go see Dae-Ho. Just as he had done for you.

You knew the general area where his group was, but couldn't make out specific people in the dark. Not from your distance.

You racked up the nerve to quietly shuffle over. Your socks helping to muffle any noise.

"Shh, someone is coming." You heard a man whisper, it was 456. You could see the large numbers next to the 'O' on his jacket.

"I-is Dae-Ho with you..." You ask, shakily.

"And what do you want with him?" A man next to 456 spoke, defensively.

"I- Hes my friend, I need to talk to him." You tried, fiddling with your fingers.

"Yeah, Sure he is. You're probably trying to get in and take one of us out, huh!" The man 390 rose, acting like he was ready to fight.

You stepped back, "No, really, I swear I'm not!"

You heard your name, a confused Dae-Ho crawled out from under a bed. "Dae-Ho, please tell them in not trying to kill any of you."

"What?" He was still weary from sleep, rubbing his eyes. Once he saw the position you and 390 were in, He quickly stepped between the two of you.

"No, No, she wouldn't do that. Really, whatever shes saying she's telling the truth." Dae-Ho came to your rescue.

"Can we talk Dae-Ho?" You stepped closer to him, both of your hands gently resting on his arm. He nodded rapidly, stepping away from his group.

The two of you found a cluster of abandoned beds, and sat on the floor between them

"Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?" He looked you over for any visible infliction's.

"No, no I'm fine..." You pulled your knees to your chest. "I just wanted to see you." You felt silly once it left your lips.

His face flushed beet red, you could even tell in the dark. His hair falling in his face made you reach a hand out and brush it back. "O-oh"

"You never told me what you think the next game is, Dae-Ho." You needed a distraction.

He shook his head, like he was getting some thoughts out. "I have no idea... I just hope its an easy one. Gi-Hun, uh 456, said that they've already played Tug-of-war, Marbles, and some kind of glass stepping game. So, uh, I would assume none of those would repeat."

"I'm glad I missed Tug-of-war... That would mean the number of survivors would be half..." You thought.

He changed the subject, beginning with your name. "What's wrong? I know you said you wanted to see me, but, I guess I don't understand why."

"Dae-Ho, I don't really know why either. I just, wanted to be with you. I feel safe with you. I feel like I'm alone anytime you walk away..." You blinked away a stray tear.

Dae-Ho was lost in thought, he had thought his feelings weren't reciprocated. Maybe they were after all?

He didn't have time to speak, because you have lounged yourself forward in a burst of confidence. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and pushed him to the floor. He was laid on his back with you on top of him, as you pressed a hard kiss to his lips.

His eyes widened, his body went rigid. When you pulled away to look at him, he stammered. "I-I, Uhm."

At his reaction you pulled away quickly, "I'm so sorry, I thought-"

"Can you please do that again." He was now giddy, a fat smile on his face. Excitement radiated out of him. "A-are you sure.. You seemed so..."

"No, no, you just caught me off guard, please, please kiss me again." He scrambled to a sit, hoping you would come closer again.

With a refound joy, you moved closer. This time you went slow, making sure to bask in the moment. You once again wrapped your arms around Dea-Ho's neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

"You're perfect.." He mumbled against your lips. Though, he felt something wet on his face. He pulled away, his eyes soft, "Whats wrong?"

You sniffled, "Promise me. Promise me, that after everything is over, that we will find each other." You asked, pressing your cheek against his.

"I swear it, I swear we will meet after the games." He leaned in for another kiss.

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

"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle."

Okay, this one seemed safe. You had a large group, this can work. You tried to be positive, you had someone to look forward to after the game.

"Heyyy, we'll be mingling together. Doesn't that sound like so much fun?" Thanos went on, trying to hype everyone up. The only one who was just as high as him was Nam-Gyu. It worried you that he wasn't fully aware of his surroundings, but at least he wasn't on your tail about everything.

"Please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."

You nodded, understanding the rules. Everyone gathered to the platform. You noticed groups staying together, huddling close.

While following Thanos, you passed Dae-Ho's group, you caught his eye and gave him a small salute. It seemed the two of you now had an inside joke.

"Let the game, begin."

At the jump and pull of the platform, you almost lost your balance. You reached a hand out and held onto your brother. He looked over at you, for a split second he actually seemed like your brother. He was there for you.

That's until a muffled snort came from Nam-Gyu. Thanos pushed your hand off, laughing at you.

You sighed and thought of a smart remark, but the platform stopped spinning and a 'Ten' rang out.

Thanos laughed loudly, "We needa four!!" He screamed, shaking his face all about.

"Were four!" A man yelled back, and Thanos took off running. Your eyes widened and you ran after him. "Run, Hurry!" You yelled at Se-Mi, who had stopped to grab Min-Su.

Luckily everyone had made it to the room, just as the door shut the timer went off. The door locked shut. You peaked out of the doors small slit. You didn't see Dae-Ho. A good sign.

Multiple gunshots rang out, each making your body jolt.

"Ha Ha! My family! We did it!" Thanos bantered, clapping some of the men on their backs.

When the doors finally opened again, you looked around. You looked and looked for Dae-Ho. Finally sighing in relief when you saw him. He ran over to you.

"You're okay, thank God!" He hugged you, you held him tight.

You swallowed hard, "It's not over yet. I'll find you after the next round!" You said, quickly finding Thanos again.

"Yeahhhh! Easyyy!" Him and Nam-Gyu joked back and forth. They started dancing to the music as the platform started rotating again.

'Four'

Thanos stopped and looked at his group for a minute. "Gyeong-su, you're with me!" He grabbed his hand, pulling him.

"Damn!" Nam-Gyu said, gripping your arm and pulling you. While you were happy to be chosen, you were worried for Min-su and Se-Mi.

"Lets goooo!" Thanos yelled once we were all in the room.

"Thanos what was that! Gyeong-su over me!" You pointed your finger at him.

"I swear I thought I was pulling you! Besides, you gotta stop running your mouth. You made it, you're fine!"

You couldn't believe what he was saying. Sure, he talked a lot about leaving you. But it was always just talk? Right?

The door opened once again, you were thankful to be away from Thanos. Your new objective was to find Dae-Ho now.

This time, the second you saw him- you ran to him. You no longer cared about what Thanos thought, nor what he'd do.

"I'm so happy to see you." Dae-Ho mumbled into your hair, which his face had been shoved into right after you ran into his arms.

"I have to stay with you, Thanos tried to leave me. I can't make it with him." Dae-Ho didn't hesitate, and pulled you over to his group.

Though, Thanos didn't like that. "Yo, brotha. What're you doing with my sister!" He tried to shove Dae-Ho, but he was bigger and stronger.

The platform started to spin.

"Leave her alone, you obviously cant take care of your sister." He ushered you behind him.

"I don't know what you're talking about bro! I save her, shes only alive because of me and Nam-Gyu!" He argued, leaving out the crucial part of information where he wasn't the one who grabbed you.

"It doesn't matter anymore. I will keep her safe now, you can mind your own business and get along with Nam-Gyu."

They continued to yell and argue over the carousel's music, it was difficult to hear them. Until,

'Three'

Thanos gripped one of your arms, Dae-Ho held another.

"Thanos, let go!" You yelled, trying to pull from his grasp.

It was chaotic, screaming was heard around you. "Dae-Ho, this way!" Two men yelled out, Dae-Ho twisted his head but didn't move.

Your stomach dropped. You couldn't be the reason Dae-Ho would die. You were all running out of time.

"Dae-Ho, go. Please! I'll go with Thanos and Nam-Gyu!"

"I'm not leaving you!" He was adamant about protecting you. Damned everyone else.

"If you don't go, we will all die. Time is running out!" Dae-Ho battled internally, you let go of his hand.

"Go! It's okay, I'll see you in a minute!"

He didn't want to leave, he couldn't. But you made him. When he slowly walked backwards, you let out a relived sigh. You then turned to run with Thanos. Nam-Gyu was already in a room, his yelling ushering you two forward.

It was going to be okay, The three of you in a room. Everything was fine. There was time.

Until, Nam-Gyu moved out of the way... Gyeong-su was behind him... There was already two in the room. Thanos ran in, not thinking twice.

Your running came to a stop right outside of the door. Where Thanos himself had closed it on you.

A "NO!" Was heard from across the room. It was Dae-Ho. He tried to come to you, but he was too far.

Player 456 and player 001 were pulling him into a room. Forcing the door shut. You could see Dae-Ho looking out of the door slit, his hands peaking out as well.

You didn't turn to see what Thanos might have been doing. You didn't care. Not anymore.

You just wanted your last moment to be looking at the most handsome man you'd ever met. His soft eyes were filled with tears as he watched you.

You weren't upset, not scared, not nervous. Not anymore.

It would all be over soon.

You gave him one last salute before a loud bang rang out.

A/N- Not going to lie ya'll, I ate that up. But I still love hearing y'all's constructive criticism! Please LMK if you want to be added to my tag list, TYSM for reading!

Dae-Ho Taglist- @fuzzyscissorsmakerpie-blog @thethreeeyed-raven

[brigitoshaughnessy]

I am literally going to answer all of these? I have no secrets.

1. what's the best advice you've ever been given?

Don’t think about which option you should choose today. Think about what regrets you’ll have in the future based on each choice.

2. what is your preferred method of non-physical self destruction?

Spiraling anxiety

3. what is your favorite way to self care?

Sitting in a dark, quiet room by myself OR taking a vacation by myself.

4. tell me about your most vivid memory, good or bad.

Ehh, I don’t know that any are more vivid. I tend to live more in the present and for the future than in the past. I don’t like to dwell, probably because most of my vivid memories are traumatic. I.e., my parents deaths, my fiancées death, my brothers death… etc.

5. if anything, what would you change about your childhood?

I would have spent more time drawing.

6. what is something that you've always wanted to do but have never been able to do?

Sky diving

7. what is your fatal flaw?

Overthinking to the point of self-defeatism. Think of Marvin in Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.

8. what is something that gets to you that you wish wouldn't?

Criticism

9. do you cry? why or why not?

Yes. When I disappoint those close to me.

10. tell me about an insecurity you overcame.

I am a non-technical person in a technical job. I’m faking it, but no one knows.

11. tell me about your last failed friendship.

My husband (no filter) told a friend of mine that I thought he was neglecting his dog. My friend was livid that I hadn’t told him directly.

12. who do you wish you could connect with but haven't been able to connect with?

My last surviving immediate family member. We have never clicked.

13. what can make you excessively angry?

Injustice & memes that over simplify complex issues & the plebs that make the memes their life’s philosophy.

14. do you enjoy being lightheartedly teased? why or why not?

No. I’m very sensitive to criticism and having attention drawn to me. I get embarrassed very easily.

15. do you prefer to be numb or overly emotional? Why?

Numb. Excessive emotion has been negative emotion in my life experience.

16. what is a skill or talent you've completely lost or overlooked? why did that happen?

Guitar. I picked up writing fanfic again. Im a serial hobbyist.

17. what was your favorite color as a child and what is your favorite color now?

Purple… and I no longer have one.

18. what is something you can't bring yourself to get rid of?

My parents wedding rings.

19. tell me something you don't like telling the people you are close to.

That they could do better at something. I manage for work so it’s difficult to feel that I’m a manager of people personally.

20. tell me what you think others think about you.

Probably that I’m a know it all who thinks she’s too clever. But hopefully, also that I care about people, and can set aside my premonitions to be present when someone needs me.

Reblog with your answers (or just one or two) if you care to share. I love learning about all of you. :)

deep asks that get uncomfortably personal

what’s the best advice you’ve ever been given?

what is your preferred method of non-physical self destruction?

what is your favorite way to self care?

tell me about your most vivid memory, good or bad.

if anything, what would you change about your childhood?

what is something that you’ve always wanted to do but have never been able to do?

what is your fatal flaw?

what is something that gets to you that you wish wouldn’t?

do you cry? why or why not?

tell me about an insecurity you overcame.

tell me about your last failed friendship.

who do you wish you could connect with but haven’t been able to connect with?

what can make you excessively angry?

do you enjoy being lightheartedly teased? why or why not?

do you prefer to be numb or overly emotional? why?

what is a skill or talent you’ve completely lost or overlooked? why did that happen?

what was your favorite color as a child and what is your favorite color now?

what is something you can’t bring yourself to get rid of?

tell me something you don’t like telling the people you are close to.

tell me what you think others think about you.

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 7

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Happy New Year! Chapter count is continuing to go up, because I need to halve this chapter after hitting 6k. Should be 10 parts. Hopefully.

Arthur did eventually show up with enough McDonald’s in tow to feed an army. 

Fries, Nuggets and even including apology milkshakes.

“I am really sorry,” her little brother apologised to her, looking distraught.

Colette exhaled slowly, trying her hardest not to laugh at the sheepish look on Arthur's face.

"The next time, maybe you should think before you post. But then I clearly didn’t do that either,” she said drily.

“I mean, karma is the guy in the car coming straight home to me, did amuse me very much,” Vic said brightly.

Arthur blushed deeply, and ducked his head in embarrassment. He set down the bags of takeout on the counter, and then looked up to her to apologize again, his eyes wide like a puppy begging for forgiveness.

"Come here," Colette said with a sigh, holding out her arms for him. "I love you, ma petite puce."

"Colette!" Arthur complained with a grimace, but she just grinned.

"Oh you'll always be my little flea," she teased her younger brother.

"Oh god, don't call me that," Arthur complained, letting her pull him into a tight hug. He let out a long suffering sigh. "I said I was sorry!"

"I know you are," she said, patting the top of his brown hair, even when that meant that she needed to stand on her tiptoes to reach. "But the fact remains that you were an idiot before."

Arthur groaned in embarrassment and dropped his head to her shoulder in defeat.

"Eat your fries," his voice was muffled. "And please tell me you have some salad or something in the fridge so Max doesn't kill me for feeding you nothing but junk food."

"I do have some salad in the fridge," Colette said and ruffled his hair. "I'll eat lots of veggies, I promise. And I’ll even tell Maxie that I blackmailed you into getting me fries, if you want,” she suggested brightly.  

Vic just snorted. "Let's just get that back in the living room and we can put on Sky News and bitch about the commentators."

"You guys are awful," Arthur protested, but he was already gathering their food and following along obediently. "The comments on Sky Sports are not nearly as bad as you make them out to be..."

Colette rolled her eyes and instead collapsed onto the couch, wriggling to get comfortable, because her back was still killing her.

Arthur was also very wrong. Danica Patricks definitively was that bad. Colette could just stare at the train wreck in front of her.

"Vic. Why in the world has Sky Jos on there to talk about Maxie's anger issues. What anger issues?" she demanded. Max didn’t have anger issues. Who in the world had come up with that? This was utterly ridiculous!

Victoria stared at her. "You don't know?!" she asked, sounding shocked.

"Know what?" Colette demanded. "Enzo deleted every social media app in existence from my phone. Why do people think that Max of all people has anger issues?!"

"George Russell," Arthur mumbled. "He said some...things."

Things. George Russell had said some things. 

Colette sat up a little straight at that, her eyes widening in disbelief. "What things?" she demanded. "What did he say?"

Victoria and Arthur exchange a look.

"He may have said that he wouldn't want Max to date his sister because he is sure that his girlfriend is the one dealing with his anger issues?" Arthur offered.

"He. Said. What?" Colette bit out.

No wonder there had been this tone in Max's voice when they had talked this morning...No wonder he had sounded upset, when that George fucking Russell had pretty much accused him of hurting her. And of course, he hadn't wanted to worry her, so of course, he hadn't told her.

Victoria reached out and grasped her elbow, as if she worried Colette would jump up and attack the screen.

"You need to stay calm," Vic said firmly. "You can't get worked up, it's not good for you, and it's not good for the baby," she warned her.

"I will murder George Russell," Colette growled in response.

"No murder," Victoria said in a no-nonsense voice. "You can't kill him, he's not worth it. And you can't have this stress, for your health. And the baby."

Colette huffed but she was still seething.

Only to then have Danica Patrick pipe up from the TV Screen: "What are your thoughts on your son’s supposed anger issues?"

"He doesn't have anger issues!" Colette snapped. "I have anger issues right now! I am going to find George Russell and punch him in the face!"

Arthur stared at her with an ill-hidden combination of horror and fascination.

Victoria laughed again, but it was mostly out of surprise and disbelief. "Well, at least we know that your temper is firmly intact," she said dryly.

"I'm sure Max is going to loooove seeing you this worked up over this," Arthur grumbled.

Colette had a lot of problems with Max's father, but at least for once she actually agreed with him:

"On the circuit…as soon as Max lowers his visor, he turns into a lion. He is really motivated and the only thing that matters is winning. It was always in him. What I see in Max now, I saw in karting," Jos answered Danica's question. "But that’s not the same Max you see when he is at home. On the race track, he is a lion, but at home, he’s a teddy bear. He got that from Sophie. He’s very sweet, very gentle…Incredible protective of the people he cares about."

For the first time in recent history, Colette found herself agreeing wholeheartedly with Jos Verstappen.

"He is a teddy bear," she mumbled in agreement. "The sweetest thing on earth. And that bastard has no idea what he's talking about," she bit out.

"Of course Max is a lion on the track," Arthur said with a scoff. "We've witnessed that ourselves. Everyone in the paddock knows that Max is a machine when he's in his race car, but George has his head up his ass if he thinks that Max is aggressive off the circuit."

"We all know that Maxie is the gentlest, most generous person out there," Victoria agreed, shaking her head. "George Russell is clearly jealous and is making stuff up just to get attention."

Colette just huffed.

"So you don't think he has anger issues?" Danica Patrick pushed.

"What kind of a stupid question is that?" Colette grumbled in response, her shoulders taut with anger.

Arthur laughed and Victoria squeezed her arm.

"No," Jos answered flatly.

Danica Patrick, who was clearly fishing for a different reply, seemed a little thrown by the firm response. But she rallied quickly enough to pivot: "And what can you tell us about your son’s relationship with Colette Leclerc?"

"Oh, come on!" Colette snapped.

"They have been together for a very long time," Jos replied simply, his accent strong as ever. "…since back in Karting. I don’t think anybody believed that that relationship would last, but they did prove everybody wrong."

The answer was unexpectedly charming and sincere.

Colette found herself blinking at that, surprised at how fond he sounded when talking about her and Max. Even Arthur was gaping stupidly, and it looked like Victoria was struggling not to choke on her drink from surprise.

"I think the great thing about Colette is that she understands his life, his career. She has a brother who does the same job as Max, so she was always incredibly supportive of him," Jos continued. "She is there for him. She supports him completely, and she’s been there for him through the good times and the bad. I don’t think Max would be the man he is today without her."

Arthur and Victoria stared at the screen with dropped jaws, stunned into silence.

"Is that Jos actually giving a heartfelt compliment?" Arthur muttered in disbelief.

“I think he is?” Victoria responded questioningly. This was certainly a new experience for everyone.

On the screen, Jos continued: "I have been watching their relationship for over half of Max's life, and Max really did pick the right girl."

"Your son hasn’t talked a lot about his relationship," Danica said leadingly.

"Oh, you won’t get anything from him," Jos said with a snort. "He’s very protective over her, always has been. Especially with her in her current condition."

Colette’s eyes widened and she immediately put a hand over her stomach in a protective gesture. 

"Fuck," Victoria cursed.

“Did he seriously just do that?” Arthur croaked. “Did he just tell all of F1 - no, all of the world - that Colette is pregnant?”

All three of them just gaped at the TV.

Danica Patricks looked like a vampire that had just tasted blood. "Her current condition?" she asked, her voice honeyed sweet.

"Yes," Jos confirmed simply. "The baby is supposed to come any day now. We’re all incredibly excited for the new addition to the family. I mean, it took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough."

He said like it was a joke. Like it hadn't taken them the better part of 3 years and 2 miscarriages.

Colette’s whole body had tensed, her heart clenching painfully in her chest as the words echoed in her mind: It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough. Those words felt like a punch to the gut - like a mockery of all the pain and disappointment and suffering.

All the stress and anxiety and anguish that they had gone through. All the tears and the desperation and prayers for a miracle.

And all of it reduced to a cheap, dirty joke.

"I am going to throttle him," Victoria said, her voice shaking.

"Get in line," Arthur grumbled, looking equally enraged.

Colette just sat there staring fixedly at the screen, feeling like her whole mind had gone numb.

It was one thing when Jos made his snide little comments to them, but it was quite another when he decided to talk about that on international TV. He made it sound like their troubles to conceive had only been a matter of not trying hard enough.

It felt like a gut punch. Colette had always known that Jos had no idea how hard the last couple of years had been for them, but now, in light of his comment, it sounded like he somehow assumed it had all been their own fault.

They had kept both miscarriages quiet...had only shared it with a handful of people. She knew that Max had told Vic about it, but he had never told his father.

Her hands were shaking with anger. The urge to throw something - anything - was almost overwhelming as the words echoed in her head over and over: It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough.

How could he have been so cruel? How could he go and announce it on international television and make it sound like it hadn’t been the hardest thing that either of them had ever been through?

It felt like a betrayal. Colette had never expected much out of Max’s father, but this? This felt like twisting the knife in a still-healing wound and pouring salt into it.

It felt like a stab to the back. Jos had no idea. No idea how hard it had been to keep the hope up. No idea how much it had hurt with every failed test and every lost dream. And no idea how much they both had longed for the baby that was growing within her.

And now he was just treating it like it had been a matter of not working hard enough, as if it had been an easy task and they had simply taken their sweet time to do something that came naturally to most people.

Her mind would have continued to turn into circles...if there hadn't been a sudden stabbing pain low in her abdomen.

Colette winced as the pain flared. It was a shock, and her hands immediately flew down to press against the source of the pain.

"Are you alright?" Victoria asked immediately. Colette clenched her teeth as the cramping pain seemed to grow even worse, before easing.

"Just...just a cramp," Colette managed to breathe out. "It's fine. It's fine. I just- it just startled me, that's all."

She tried to assure herself that it was nothing. Just Braxton Hicks - just the body preparing for the labor, the pain sometimes got intense. But something about it felt...off.

"Is that the first one today?" Victoria asked her. "You winced a few times this morning."

Colette thought back to this morning, recalling how she had woken up with a stabbing pain in her lower back. She hadn’t thought much of it then, since her muscles hadn’t been happy with her in a long time at this point - and it had passed pretty quickly after a few minutes.

"I'm not sure, I-" she started, her breath catching.

There was pain again, another stabbing contraction.

"Are they getting stronger?" Victoria asked, her voice sharpening.

The pain receded after a few seconds, and Colette had to force down the urge to curl up on the couch with her hands on her stomach as she tried to take deep breaths."It's nothing. I still have 4 weeks," Colette said with a shake of her head.

The words sounded like a prayer. Because she wasn’t due for at least another month, after all. This was just the Braxton Hicks contractions that her doctor had warned her about. The practice contractions that were supposed to help get her body ready for labor, nothing to worry about.

It was just her body preparing for the birth, that was all.

But the pain came back again, and this time, Colette couldn't quite suppress the gasp as she closed her eyes and tried to breathe through it.

"Colette," Victoria said, her voice sharp. "I don’t think they’re just practice contractions. The way you’re tensing and wincing...this is the real deal. I think you’re going into actual labor."

“No,” Colette said, her heart lurching in her chest. “No, no, I’m not…I’m not supposed to go into labor until January, this is- this is not supposed to happen.”

She had just hit her 36th week, and she was due at the start of January. It was far too early for the labor to start.

"I don't think the baby cares about that," Victoria said with a laugh. "Come on, we'll need to get you to the hospital."

"No, I can't be in labour. Max isn't here," she disagreed.

Colette felt a fresh wave of panic wash over her. The very last thing she wanted to do was start labor without Max there, and Max was currently in the middle of a race on the opposite end of the world.

“Where’s your hospital bag?“ Victoria asked her, all business. “Where’s are the car keys? Arthur is driving.“

“What, no!“ Arthur squeaked. Arthur clearly looked terrified, his eyes growing like saucers as he stared at them. "No - no, I don’t think I can-"

But Victoria was already rounding on him. "Oh yes,  you can. Just get the keys and get the damn car ready. I‘ll help Colette get her things, and you'll drive us."

The authority in her voice was intimidating enough that Arthur didn’t dare to disagree with her, and he nodded mutely and hurried away to look for the car keys.

Colette was torn between laughing at her brother’s expression and panicking over the fact that her labor was actually starting.

Just like that, she felt frozen in place a few moments longer, before Victoria snapped her fingers in front of her face. "Hey, no freezing up. We need to get moving. We need to get to the hospital, and your kid doesn’t care that it still needs 4 more weeks. So come on, come on, get your things."

It snapped her out of her temporary daze, and she managed to focus back to the present again. "Right, yeah," Colette mumbled, and she quickly went to get her hospital bag.

She had already packed it, just in case - but she had definitely not expected to actually use it.

Her hands were shaking as she picked it up, the whole situation still not entirely sinking in yet. Max was not here. She was going to have her baby without him here - that wasn’t how it was supposed to be!

But the pain came back again, and her body seemed to agree that there was no time left to waste.

She winced through the contraction, and Vic’s face tensed as she saw it.

"How are you doing?" she asked, watching her worriedly. Colette had to take a deep breath, trying to keep breathing as the pain faded out again. "I’m-” she started, but that was the same second that Arthur appeared again with the keys.

"The car is ready," he said, sounding very much like he’d rather bolt.

"Right," Victoria said, and she looked at Colette. "We gotta go. You good to go?"

Colette felt a surge of panic as the truth of leaving to go to the hospital finally sank in - she felt very much like her entire body had seized up. But Arthur was already waiting at the door with an expectant look on his face that did not look at all reassuring, and Victoria had picked up her hospital bag and was ushering Colette’s towards the hallway.

The contractions didn’t seem to care about any of her feelings, anyway.

"Come on," Victoria told her quietly. "We're gonna go and have a beautiful birth, and when you're done, there’ll be a healthy baby in your arms, okay?"

Colette was sure that her face had gone pale, and her hands were shaking as she slowly made her way through the hallway. Victoria led her the entire time, supporting her as they moved.

She was more than grateful to slip into the backseat of the Audi and her hands could claw themselves into the buttery soft leather interior.

“Are you sure we can’t wait for an adult?“ Arthur asked weakly.

“You are an adult. You literally drive race cars for a living,“ Victoria snapped.

Colette would have laughed at Arthur’s terrified expression in any other situation, but at the moment, she really wasn’t up to find anything funny.

“Just drive the damn car, Arthur!“ Victoria snapped, and Arthur flinched, his eyes wide as saucers.

A whimper escaped Colette as another contraction gripped her, and she curled up in the back seat, both hands clawed in the seat as the wave of pain ebbed away again. Her breathing was ragged, and she felt like she was slowly coming apart at the seams.

"Keep breathing," Victoria’s sharp voice came from her left side, and she felt a cool, smooth hand on her forehead. "Just keep breathing. You're doing great."

The words managed to cut through the panic, and Colette managed to gasp out a shuddering breath. “I-” she choked out, “I can’t…I can’t do this without Max, I-”

"You are doing it," Victoria cut in, her voice steady and sharp like a blade. "You are doing it, and you are going to be fine. Max will be by your side the moment he can, but you will make it until then. Just keep breathing and keep talking, you’re doing great."

[witherby]

*raises hand* more littlest Wayne please 🥺

You got it!

The Littlest Wayne: Jason's Experience

You're a weird baby.

At least, that's what Jason thinks. You don't really cry about anything, you don't whine much except when you're maneuvered uncomfortably or rudely woken up from a nap before you're ready. But even then, it's almost a complaint for the sake of complaining, and not really a full-blown fit.

( It's great for allowing your new, vigilante family to sleep through the night. Horrible for their collective paranoia, which makes them get up to check and make sure you're still breathing through the night anyway. )

You're not deaf — Bruce had you taken in for a full examination and health screening while the ink on your adoption papers were still drying — so that's not why you're quiet, either. Aside from being a touch underweight, likely from whoever cared for you before, it seems like you just don't have much to be upset about.

Jason thinks that weird as fuck. Nobody is neglecting you or anything, but there are times where the lack of hunger cues make one of your brothers realize you haven't eaten since breakfast, or that nobody has checked your diaper in four hours and you've just been chilling in a wet nappy. This makes his monitoring of your general well-being increase ten-fold, to the point that he's the one that spends the most time with you aside from Bruce.

Dr. Leslie insists that some babies are just Like That. Alfred does, too. Their lack of concern helps him be less concerned. But it's still there. Surely there's something a baby would cry about; you're a fuckin baby, and that's, like, your primary job besides eating and sleeping.

He finds out that there is, in fact, something to cry about when he comes back from a week-long job as the Red Hood, having needed to leave the Manor to track down a criminal organization quickly gaining traction that he didn't like the looks of. When he wraps up the last of those loose ends, he steps into his apartment in Crime Alley and digs out his personal phone, switching it on to find dozens of messages from Bruce and his brothers.

Replacement: Dude, u need to get back here ASAP when ur done. The babe is straight tweakin

Eldest Daughter Syndrome: Heyyy lil wing 👋 no rush no rush, but swing by when you've got a sec! Our newest member misses you 🍼

Ninja Wannabe: Todd, your presence is required. Father's newest ward is screaming incessantly without you to entertain their mindless brain. I've retreated to Bludhaven to spare my ears until your return.

B: Stay safe, Jaylad. Adjusting to you being gone is a little tough for the baby, as I'm sure your brothers already told you. I just want you to know that there's no obligation to hurry back. They're okay, and the screaming isn't as bad as everyone is making it out to be.

Alfred: Good day, Master Jason. There is an entire batch of double-fudge brownies with your name on it upon your safe return. Best wishes.

You must be screaming the manor down if Alfred is bribing Jason with junk food, let alone a whole tray of it. He hurries out of his armor with half-concern, half-amusement, showers, then speeds off. In less than an hour, he's pulling into the driveway and parking his bike, and Tim was not fucking lying when he texted him.

Turns out it was good that you weren't a huge crier, because you had pipes that put opera singers to shame. When Jason steps inside, the faint, high pitched whines he heard through the door turn into full-fledged wailing. It's just a matter of following it down a couple corridors before he reaches the day room, which was recently repurposed into one of your play areas. He locks onto the image of one very distressed Dick, face flushed and cotton stuffed in his ears as he desperately jangles a set of plastic keys over your body.

"C'mon, baby bat," he croons, sounding near tears himself, "I dunno what you need. Calm down, honey, please."

You lie on a playmat in front of Dick, paying the toy no mind. Your eyes are squeezed shut, tears are running down your cheeks, your face is ruby red, and your tiny fists are clenched as tight as possible as you kick your legs and wail, and wail, and wail some more. It would be impressive if it weren't concerning.

"Whoa," Jason blurts, stepping fully into the room. Dick spots him and slumps with visible relief, like a puppet with cut strings. "They've been like this the whole time?"

"They were completely fine the first day! But next morning, we saw them looking around for you, and...well." Dick gestures helplessly to your thrashing form. Jason tuts and scoops you into his arms, wincing a bit at your shriek, and starts to gently bounce you.

"Hey, there," he mutters, "what's all this now, weirdo? You didn't have me around to spoon feed you gross baby mush or wipe your butt, and now you're making it everybody else's problem? Huh? That's rude as hell."

Your cries continue a little while longer. Jason continues to talk to you, to call your antics silly, to soothe you, until you finally crack an eye open and register just who it is that's got you in their arms. You stare at Jason kinda like he's an alien, brows furrowed and nose scrunched, but then your wails dissolve into sobs, then little hiccups, then just the occasional sniffle. One of your hands unclenches to latch onto his shirt instead, and you mush your face into his chest.

And you just. Completely stop it. Bruce, Dick, Tim, Alfred, and Damian had fallen all over themselves for days trying to soothe you, and a couple minutes of staring at Jason had completely eliminated the problem.

"You gotta move back to the Manor," Dick blurts from where he remained on the floor, wide-eyed and hands clasped together. "Please come back. Please. I am begging. On my hands and knees if you need it. I will do all your chores for the next year. Do not leave again."

"Not my fault I'm the favorite," Jason huffs, but the protective way he holds you, the concerned way he's checking over your face and throat to see if you hurt yourself crying for so long, the continued bouncing he does for you, all points to him moving back home. He makes the arrangements the next day.

And if Jason makes sure future missions he has to go on don't last more than two days, well, that's no one's business but his own.

You're still a weird baby, though. Even if Jason being your favorite is pretty cool.

[not-inappropriate]

I will say, the entry level job market on indeed dot com does indeed dot suck. But I think I’ve learned a decent amount since indeed and company websites are the only job boards I’ve used, and I’ve had a decent career so far, so I feel like I’ve got some decent advice. if any of this helps anyone at all hell yeah.

So:

1) HR people ALWAYS exaggerate the requirements. However much experience they say they want, you probably need one third of that. Certifications required usually means certifications preferred, depending on the industry. Like, Don’t apply to a surgeon position with only a nursing degree; but there’s a solid chance you can get a job with a CPA firm without being a CPA yourself. Just make sure you can give some sort of explanation as to why you would be able to do the job if asked.

Story: My brother (1 year experience, Bachelor’s degree) was once encouraged to apply to a new position within his company by his boss, who had instructed HR on the requirements and experience needed for the position (bachelors required, entry level, 1-3 year experience preferred), and when my brother goes to the website to apply it says 3-5 years experience required, Masters degree preferred. Bro said boss was PISSED. HR can be a joke sometimes.

2) Cover letters are usually pointless if it’s not an extreme specialty position with few candidates. Unless it says they’re highly encouraged or something

3) Maybe the most important: send follow up emails for EVerything. I think this is what held me back for months when I first started using indeed. And it doesn’t matter how bland or thoughtless is is. Two sentences in an HR bro’s inbox is worth 10 cover letters. And if you got a screening call or an interview and haven’t heard back in a week+ ?? Call their ass. They might offer the job to you on the spot. Last time I was job hunting I got a mid offer, after being ghosted on two good offers I’d interviewed for. I called both of them and said Soooo y’all make a decision??? They both offered me a job within 24 hours. (Brag, sorry)

Each listing probably has hundreds of applicants. People just spamming their resume across the internet. And emails, or especially calls, show actual interest. Go to the company website > about us > our staff > contact us > whatever. “Hi Mr. Bob. I saw your listing on indeed and wanted to introduce myself. I graduated this year and had trouble contacting anybody on the job listing websites, but I believe I have the qualifications necessary for the position. If you have a moment, could you forward my email to the relevant parties. My resume is attached. Thank you, XoXo”. Whatever. When I was working in my first entry level job doing data entry and answering phones, I got a phone call like this, and we actually gave the guy an interview (this guy blew it RIP). I’ve seen another boss mad when he got a call from a reasonably qualified applicant who said they hadn’t heard back after applying on one of the other job listing sites, and he came out yelling at his secretary (yeah he was an asshole), demanding to see the resume. Offered him the job in the first interview. (Hell yeah). Plus people feel bad turning you down after hearing your voice. You’re a human to them now.

4)As far as finding more relevant jobs? Similar to point 1. For entry level, select the 1-3 years experience instead. For bookkeeping, choose accounting instead. When I was also looking for a bookkeeping job, I couldn’t find one for the life of me. When I was looking for accounting jobs as a Managerial Auditior?? Bookkeeping listings all over my indeed page. Yeah it’s bullshit, but aiming up helps. Thats about all I have for that though.

So yeah. Apply to things you might not perfectly meet the requirements for. Emails and phone calls get people’s attention. and Real Bosses are often pissed when they find out the inefficiencies of HR and job boards too. Just send it

Anyway. Job hunting can be the least fun endeavor on the planet. Sending thotts and prayors for the lot of you 🙏🙏🙏 and praying I never have to do it again (now that I found my dream job) (on indeed dot com) (fuck indeed dot com) (but also thank you indeed dot com)

do genuinely find it fascinating how indeed.com is like the biggest job-hunting website out there and yet manages to be profoundly useless in every possible way

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x stripper fem!reader

Mini-series summary: When Tangerine opened an underground strip-club to cover for his murder-for-hire business operation, he wasn't expecting to become so easily distracted by one girl in particular.

Chapter summary: You can handle yourself, you've been doing it alone for years, but you can't deny it feels nice when someone else cares for you for a change. (3.6k)

Warnings: sleazy gross rich men, strip clubs, violence, drugs, alcohol, sex work, sexual harassment

BAD FOR BUSINESS MASTERLIST

In the late afternoon, the loud, lively, self-named 'gentleman's club' feels eerily empty. The jazz music plays so quietly that the only real sound is the faint clinking of the glasses as Lennie, the bartender, polishes them.

Tangerine usually never arrives this early, but Leo had conveniently asked him to finish up the paperwork so here he is, walking up the stairs and into his office, which conveniently overlooks the main stage from up in the glassed mezzanine.

His hair is damp from the rain as he rests his umbrella near the door. The classical music from his earbuds drowns out the jazz from the lounge and he holds in a yawn, taming his curls with his hand as he strolls to his desk. He touches the array of papers Leo has left him for him. 

Tangerine's eyebrows pinch in disapproval. He drops his phone on the desk, draping his suit jacket on the back of his chair and sinking down, resting his hand on the wood. He drums his fingers, his mind wandering as the music lulls him. He can feel a headache coming on and he pulls out the earbuds, texting Lemon from his phone. 

T : Are you working tonight? 

L : Ya. Are you? 

T : I'm here early. Leo didn't fucking finish his paperwork and now I have to clean up after that arsehole. 

L : Dickhead.

T : Bloody motherfucker. 

L : Such a Diesel.

Tangerine rolls his eyes playfully, turning his phone over and grabbing his reading glasses to begin on the paperwork. Some fucked up jobs they've been needing to deal with. That and keeping up with the finances to keep this hellhole open.

Investors aren't exactly happy. They want more girls, they want more sex. Tangerine groans. He's starting to regret this. Opening this business. However, when he thinks of the girls, his regret dwindles. It doesn't matter that the establishment is a cover, he pays them well. He's fair and he knows they need it.

If he listens to Leo and closes this place down then where are they supposed to go? Tangerine knows men, especially men that actually work in this business, and he doesn't want his girls to fall into their hands. 

He pinches the bridge of his nose, rubbing his eyes as he brings the papers in front of him. 

Fuck this, he thinks.

Hours pass and the music from below begins to grow louder. He rests his glasses on his desk and stands, stretching his arms. He strolls to the glass and peers down at the floor. The dim lights have been turned on and Lemon and the other bodyguards are preparing for the night. Tangerine hums, walks around to his desk again, and continues to work for a little while longer. Soon, his mind wanders to the girls again and he opens the computer, searching the schedule for tonight. 

When he finds your name, he can't help the way his lips curve and his stomach twists. He closes the tab. He feels like a love-sick schoolboy, a perverse one at that, he shouldn't like you as much as he does, but how could he not? 

You're the sweetest girl here. 

Another few hours pass and Tangerine is concentrating on sending important emails. He's sick of planning these heists, these kills, it makes his head hurt. Lemon would say he's burned out, and that he needs a vacation, but he refuses to listen to his brother. 

He refuses to listen to his brother on a lot of things.  

It's the sound of your song that pulls his attention away from his computer. That smooth sensual tune you always dance to and he sits up immediately. He looks at the clock over his door. 2 am already? Tangerine stands and makes his way over to the glass, his breath hitching when he sees you on stage.

You're dressed in lacy white lingerie. A small pair of angel wings adorn your back, the strings attaching them wrapping sensually around your torso. Your hair is curled and you're wearing a small golden halo. It's your usual outfit, but you look absolutely stunning. 

Tangerine feels just as perverted as the men watching you and his cheeks heat up. He looks at the audience and recognizes some of the usual. Some old 'work' colleagues or wealthy aristocrats. Powerful men. Dangerous men. His jaw clenches. This is why he insisted on so many bodyguards all around. Men that this place attracts are accustomed to having whatever they want, whenever they want it.

Already, these girls are being displayed on a golden platter for them, but Tangerine would be damned if these men tried to push their luck. This place has rules. Strict ones he put in place when he realized Leo wasn't caring. That's why he'd been coming around more often, to make sure that arsehole wasn't being abusive. He tells himself that's the only reason.   

His eyes wander back to you. He knows you're almost finished with your routine. Tangerine has it memorized by now. Involuntarily, he feels his trousers tighten around his crotch as he continues to watch the way you dance.

When you tilt your head upwards a little, holding yourself up by the pole, you lock eyes and Tangerine's entire stomach flips. He stays very still, his expression neutral and dismissive. You smile, keeping your eyes on his as you finish the dance and blow a kiss into the crowd.

Fuck. He needs a fucking smoke. 

Tangerine makes his way down the stairs and into the lounge. He's assaulted by the smell of alcohol and drugs, as well as the familiar stench of sex the moment he enters the room. He fumbles with his cigarette pack in his pocket and pops a cigarette in his mouth. 

"Oi," Lemon's voice interrupts his thoughts from near the entrance door, which is slightly ajar. He's talking to another bodyguard, Wayne, and the latter nods his head at Tangerine. "How's work, bruv?"

Tangerine comes over and blows the smoke outside from the open door. He leans against the wall and looks into the room, keeping an eye out. You've gone backstage. "It's a fuckin' pain in my arse," is all he says and Lemon pats him on the shoulder. 

"I'be been tellin' ya Leo is a diesel." 

Tangerine sends him a dark look. "Shut up about that already, would ya? You're gettin' on my fuckin' tits." 

Lemon only rolls his eyes with a small chuckle and continues his discussion with Wayne. The jazz music continues, now hurting Tangerine's ears as his annoyance only seems to grow. 

He prays a drink will dull his incoming headache.

He flicks the burnt out cigarette into the trash can near the exit and walks to the bar. All the girls he crosses, the ones that aren't already entertaining some snobby dickhead, send him warm smiles. He returns them. 

"Whiskey. Neat," Tangerine says to Lennie, leaning against the bar.

"'Course, boss," Lennie nods, preparing his usual. 

Tangerine looks to the side, catching a glimpse of you a few tables over. You're perched on some older man's lap, your thighs straddling his hips. The man's hands wander from your waist upwards as he whispers something into the shell of your ear, looking towards one of the multiple rooms.

Tangerine's expression sours as his head continues to throb. However, his heart slowly calms when you shake your head and push the man away from you, while still entertaining him. 

Lennie sets the whiskey next to Tangerine's hand and looks over. "Prick has been harassing her to go into one of the rooms all night," he says, his tone tense, "I told Trevor to keep an extra eye on him when he's around her. He'll intervene if things get handsy." 

Tangerine nods, turning to his drink. He knows Trevor has it handled in case things escalate and he knows you do too. You're no stranger to standing up for yourself, after all, he's seen you slap your fair share of men, but still his stomach twists. He'd rather you not deal with assholes like that. "Appreciate it," he says gruffly from behind his glass as he drinks his whiskey and the music continues to pound his ears.

He shuts his eyes a moment, enjoying the burning on his tongue as it grounds him. Only the sound of your voice shatters the momentary calm as his eyes snap open. 

* * *

"Don't touch me!" you shout, not afraid to raise your volume as you stand up from the man's lap. His hand stays firmly planted on your hips, the heat from his pudgy fingers making your stomach churn. He'd ripped the delicate lace of your top, the fabric now hanging onto your stomach and exposing more of the skin of your breast than was already shown. You're flustered as you try and push his hand away again. 

"Stop. I said no."

The man only grins, his yellowish teeth showing. "Whores can't say no," he snickers and your eyes round. You glance at the bodyguard, Trevor, who's already approaching because of your initial shout and the stranger stands, advancing on you. This time his hand clenches around your wrist, pulling you into his chest as he gropes your ass with his other hand.

Without hesitation, you swing your arm, hand balled into a fist, and hit him square in the jaw. The man gasps and drops his hold on you as blood trickles down his chin. Your ring had split the bastard's lip.

Your expression darkens and in anger, you swing your arm again, not entirely satisfied with the damage you'd caused, only to feel someone delicately hold their hand under your elbow and pull you into them. You tense, relaxing when you smell that familiar expensive cologne. 

"Shh, angel, you're okay," Your boss's voice is hoarse and low in your ear as he holds you close. The lounge has come to a halt, all members watching the scene now as Trevor grabs the man's arm, twisting it harshly behind his back. 

"What the fuck?! The slut hit me!" The man shouts as he fights against Trevor.

Your anger spikes again when you hear him call you that but Tangerine's hand on your cheek calms you. He turns your head away and his thumb is rough on your skin. When you look up you realize he isn't looking at you. He's looking at the man, his eyebrows scrunched in an emotion you can't quite read.

Swiftly, he presses a fluttering kiss to your hairline, almost imperceptible to others, before he walks over to the man. 

Trevor holds him still and you hold your breath, unsure what Tangerine is planning. 

"I'm the owner," Tangerine tells him calmly, looking down at the older man. He's hiding a smirk at how much blood you'd managed to draw from him. "What seems to be the issue?"

The man sniffs, spitting out some blood where you had nicked his lip towards you, "Your whores seem to think they have more authority than they should. I'd nip that in the bud if I were you," he hisses with such contempt you feel even more exposed than you already are.

Tangerine looks at you, his jaw clenching. "I see," he whispers, his blue eyes roaming your figure. He smiles at you and then turns and punches the man so hard in the nose that there is a loud crack. You gasp, covering your mouth as the room erupts into loud gasps. Tangerine stands still as Trevor keeps the man up, his broken nose is now gushing blood. 

Tangerine steps forward and fists his hand in the man's collar, keeping him up. His tone is even as he glares at him. "If I were you I'd think twice before touching one of my girls like that—or any girl for that matter."

His eyes narrow and then he chuckles darkly. His tone is mocking when he says, "Now, why don' ya get the fuck out of my establishment before I really lose my temper. Yeah? Good. Trevor, show this wanker out, would ya? Thanks."

Tangerine drops the man, not even looking at him as Trevor drags him out. The lounge is deadly silent now, everyone simply watching him. You're holding your breath, unsure what to do or say. 

"Show's over," Tangerine exclaims sternly. He turns to look at you but before he can, one of your friends shrieks and interrupts the moment. 

"Hon! Are you okay?" Anette runs up to you in her burgundy heels. Her Texan accent rolls off her tongue like honey and her long auburn hair falls over her shoulders. She's your favorite coworker, and one of your best friends, so you relax when her fingers gently pull up your torn top to cover you. It's ruined.

"Oh, darling," she whispers, knowing how it feels to receive too much attention from the customers here.

She hurries you backstage, ignoring the commotion around you both as she rubs your shoulders. You turn to Annette. "Did you see how hard he punched him?" you ask, your eyes wide. Annette nods, biting her cheek. 

"I did. The boss is good like that," she says as she sits you at your vanity, grabbing a sewing kit from her drawer to quickly fix your top. Annette begins to fix your top. She's clumsy with her movements.  You nod, staring at your shaken-up reflection; your hair is a mess and your previously picture-perfect appearance looks messy. Tangerine's cologne lingers on your skin your hairline tingles from where he'd kissed you and your stomach twists. 

He'd protected you. 

Suddenly, you hear a sharp knock on the dressing room door.

"Yeah?" Annette calls, removing the needle from her mouth as she continues to sew. You wince when she almost pricks your shoulder. 

"May I come in?"

You and Annette freeze at the voice behind the door and her green eyes widen. "It's the boss," she mouths. You nod, standing up and grabbing one your jumper and pulling it on. You don't have any more desire to be so exposed after what has happened. 

"Yeah," Annette says. There is a pause and then the door unclicks.

Once it opens, Tangerine stands in the doorway, arms crossed, and he looks a little awkward being outside the dressing room. He sees Annette and then you and his expression softens. "I'd like to offer to drive you home," he tells you, sounding completely serious and professional. "I understand you may be shaken up because of what happened and I don't want you to stay here in those circumstances. It wouldn't be right." 

You fiddle with the hem of the jumper, unsure if you should accept his offer. You don't feel like going out there again and dealing with more disgusting men, but you need the money. You don't speak, your gaze stuck on his as you contemplate your choices but Tangerine remains patient.

Annette, on the other hand, doesn't, so she pushes your shoulder, prompting an answer from you. You stumble forward and the words just fall from your lips.

"I'd like that, if you don't mind," you say, ignoring any nerves around him. Tangerine, while your boss, has always been kind to you. He's a real gentleman. 

Tangerine hums, very obviously suppressing a smirk while his eyes remain neutral. "I don't mind. I'll wait outside whilst you gather your things. No rush." You nod and he turns on his heels. Once he's shut the door, Annette squeals. 

"Oh my goodness," she says as you gather your belongings into your bag. You take your clothes, folding them over your arm. 

"What?" you whisper, hiding behind the curtain to change. Your cheeks feel warmer. 

"He has the hots for you!" Annette practically swoons, falling into the chair and drumming her nails on the vanity. You pull up your jeans, adjusting your jumper, and roll your eyes at her words. 

"Bullshit," you laugh, "he's just being nice." 

"He's taking time from his work to drive you home," Annette says, "C'mon, he totally does!"

You pin your hair up, shaking your head. You stuff the accessories of your skimpy costume into your bag and throw it over your shoulder. Slipping on your sneakers, you pull aside the curtains. Annette is smirking.

"Don't you have work to do?" You deadpan, crossing your arms. 

Annette raises her arms in surrender, standing up and pulling up her stockings. She pulls her skirt higher, exposing the sparkling garter hugging her upper thigh. She winks, walking over and kissing your cheek, pushing some loose strands of hair behind your ear.

"If you end up fucking the boss, I'll need all the details," she whispers and pulls away, holding up her hands, her palms touching, as she slowly drags them apart and grins. 

You push down her hands, embarrassed. "Stop it." 

"It's really a damn shame you can't see the way he looks at you when you aren't looking," she hums, adding one last tease, and then leaves the room through the back exit and into the lounge. 

You exit in the opposite direction, walking into the hall and then opening the heavy door to the outside. The cold night air is harsh on your skin and you startle when you see Tangerine leaning against the brick wall, blowing warm air from his nose as he exhales. 

"Ready?" he asks, his voice thick. 

You nod, clutching the strap of your bag tighter. You follow him through the parking lot in silence, hearing only the sound of your sneakers and his shoes on the pavement. "Thank you for doing this," you say, catching up to him. He slows his strides and looks over at you, his expression still unreadable.

"No need," he says and stuffs his hands in his trousers, "I'm sorry that man laid his hands on ya. Trevor or Wayne should have seen it and intervened sooner, otherwise what do I pay them for—" he pauses, shaking his head, "And I should have intervened sooner."

You shake your head. "It's really okay."

"No, it isn't," he says sternly and opens the passenger door to his car. It's an older vintage black car. It's in such pristine condition you're almost afraid to sit on the leather seat. Tangerine waits patiently as you buckle in and then he walks over to the driver's side. He turns to you, his sharp blue eyes looking into yours. Your breath catches in your throat. 

He's incredibly handsome, in a rather dangerous way. 

"It won't happen again, angel," he promises, the name rolling from his tongue. You remember when you'd first started working for him; he'd nicknamed you angel and then it just stuck. However, it always sounded different from his lips.

You nod, smiling at him a little as he puts the car in gear and drives onto the road. The radio plays as ambient music and you hum along, resting your chin on your palm as you look out the window. You only live twenty minutes away from the club, but that usually means an hour and a half of public transport so you're really grateful.

"Tangerine?" you suddenly pipe up, turning to him. His eyes are trained on the road. He hums. "Could I have more shifts?"

Tangerine's hands tighten around the steering wheel. "Why on earth would you want more shifts?" he asks roughly, not really thinking of anything more than that more shifts would mean more filthy men possibly trying to touch you. Hurt you.

Your voice is small when you explain, "Well, I do need the money. I'm trying to finish uni and it's expensive."

Guilt washes over him when he hears your reasoning. Of course. He pays you well, he knows this, he's a fair boss but there is only so much he can do and his business partner, Leo, isn't as generous. 

"Oh," he says, frowning. After a pause he says, "I'll see what I can do."

You nod, holding your hands together in your lap as your knees touch. You feel a little awkward and you add, "I'm sorry to ask—"

Tangerine's laugh interrupts you and he looks over for a moment, a smile curling his lips. "There's no need for that, I understand—and you can relax," he says and moves his hand as if to touch your knee, only ultimately deciding against it and resting it on the gear shift instead. "You have no reason to be nervous around me. In here, I'm not your boss," he pauses. 

You let out a breath, hiding a smile as you bite the inside of your cheek. You want to ask what that makes him if he's not your boss, but you don't.

You're unaware he wants to ask the same thing. 

Once he's parked in front of your apartment complex, Tangerine insists he walk you to your door. You turn to him, smiling. "Thanks for doing this," you say in a whisper, once again being captured by the intensity of his blue eyes. Your chest rises and your gaze dances across his features.

Your chest tightens and you act on instinct, the memories you've had with him over the years flashing in your mind; the small and yet significant conversations, the shared glances from across the room when you'd be dancing, the handwritten note on your birthday only you would receive, and of course the fleeting brushes of your hands—

Annette's previous words ring in your ears.

You kiss his cheek quickly, cheeks warm as you pull away. Tangerine looks surprised, his eyes widening as his cheek tingles. You've left a lipstick smudge and you panic, raising your thumb to wipe it away. You make a small squeak, only smearing the lipstick around and then you hurry into your apartment, closing the door behind you. 

You slam your back against your door, mouthing a scream into your hand. You curse yourself, unaware that just behind your door Tangerine is grinning like a lovesick fool, his fingers resting against the mark you'd left on him.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request the Itoshi brothers and Bachira with a ballerina reader?

“You can’t possibly be serious.”

Rin didn’t know a lot about relationship and girls, but he still knew when he said that, he crossed a line.

“Oh really.” [Y/N] snapped back at him. Arms crossed across her chest. Glaring at him with that fiery determination Rin usually respected, but now was a little scared of. “So you admit you think my training is BS compared to your training?”

The two of them had been on very intense practice schedules as of late. Rin training up to prepare for his next match and move up, and [Y/N] training for their upcoming performance and hopefully be scouted for prima in a company. They were stressed out, fried, and exhausted. And what do exhausted people do when they are exhausted? Compare their exhaustion so they make sure that their complaints are justified as they are the only one, in the whole wide world, who could be this exhausted.

“I didn’t say it was ‘BS’. I’m just saying you can’t possibly compare what I have to do to what you have to do. The weight training. The cardio.”

“The stretching. The vaults.”

“The practice matches. The strategy management.”

“Learning every step in the performance, even if it isn’t yours, to memory. Being lifted almost 8 feet in the air and hoping your partner can hold so you don’t break your leg, or your neck.”

“The ice baths.”

“Pointe shoes.”

“Having to deal with Isagi!”

The couple growled at each other before [Y/N] finally snapped. “Fine! You think it’s so easy, you do it!”

“Fine!”

Rin would live to regret that.

The next day, to foolishly prove a point, Rin went through [Y/N]’s whole workout schedule with them. The stretching, the vaults, the practice, the lifts. He wouldn’t let himself be lifted, nor wear pointe shoes, but by the end of the day his body hurt in new ways he didn’t even know were possible. “Still think it’s so easy?”

Rin looked up from the floor he was laying on up at [Y/N]. “Fine. I take it back.”

She smiled and knelt down beside him. “Well, I appreciate that. People think because ballet is all pretty costumes and fluid movements that it’s calm & easy. They don’t appreciate the work that goes into it.”

“I’m sorry.” He realized he was doing that. Belittling their hard work.

Rin sat up and took a sip out of his water bottle. “Are you going to do my training tomorrow then?”

“Sure. What’s fair is fair.” She agreed. “But no weights. I can’t bulk up anymore of Madam Costume Maker will murder me.”

Rin scoffed. “We’ll just do an easy day for you then. If you can’t handle it.”

She punched him in the shoulder, but Rin was too tired to even feel it.

One thing that people don’t tell you when you become a professional athlete is that it’s not just about the games anymore. It’s the press.

Sae sighed as he came back to his hotel room. Completely drained from having to deal with people all day and answer their silly questions. He just wanted to play football. Why did he have to tell everyone about his fitness strategy or what brand of saltines he liked?

As he was taking off his coat his phone rang and Sae answered it. “Hello.”

“Thank you for the flowers.”

A small smile tugged at Sae’s lips as he heard [Y/N]’s voice. “Of course.” With his game coming up, he was not in town for [Y/N]’s opening night. He felt bad about it, which was strange, but being professionals in their art sometimes they had to make sacrifices. That didn’t mean he couldn’t make an effort. “How was the show?”

“Good. Early critic reviews seem to be positive.” Of course they were with [Y/N] as the prima. “I wish you could have seen it.”

“I will.” Sae explains that he paid someone to film their performance. He had gotten special permission and everything from the company; with a hefty donation. “I’ll watch it later.”

“You sound tired.”

“I am.” He confessed.

“Poor baby,” [Y/N] cooed. Even though she was the one that went through the grueling physicality of dancing, she still seemed more concerned for him. “Why don’t you take a hot bath and get some sleep then?”

“They don’t believe in baths here.” Or at least his hotel room didn’t.

“A shower then. I’ll see you next week?”

“Of course.”

Sae hung up the phone and sighed again. Still tired, but a little refreshed from talking to [Y/N].

He showered and went to bed as suggested. Getting a goodnight sleep for another press tour tomorrow before the game. When he woke up that morning there was a knock at his door and a delivery from room service. A hearty breakfast of an egg white omelet, fresh fruit, and salty seaweed tea. The kind of breakfast he needed but would never get for himself. After accepting delivery, Sae noticed a card on the silver tray and quickly read it.

:Do your best: was all it said, but Sae knew who it was from.

He sat in his hotel room and ate his breakfast in silence. Watching [Y/N]’s performance on TV. Just because they had to make sacrifices didn’t mean that they couldn’t make the effort.

Bachira had been obsessed with ballerina’s ever since his mother took him to see a show once at Christmas.

The bright costumes. The spins. The music. It always excited him.

Dating [Y/N] was almost like being in the show. Helping them with their choro. Coming to rehearsals to see them practice. Bachira had probably seen the show a hundred times before actually opening night, and yet he was as nervous & excited as the actual dancers.

“You’re going to do great [Y/N]-chan~!” He whispered to her backstage.

“I don’t know…it’s a much bigger crowd than I expected….”

“That’s ok.” Bachira told her. “They’re all just faceless blobs in a crowd. Don’t focus on anyone but me in the first row. Unless…I get removed for cheering too loud. That’s gonna be hard for more….”

[Y/N] chuckled, then kissed Bachira’s cheek. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have made it this far without your support.” The music changed, coming up on [Y/N]’s cue, and they get into position to dance out. “Don’t get kicked out.”

“I’ll try~!” Bachira promised, then went to his seat to watch the performance from the audience. In awe & rapture of the beauty of the show and his partner.

[quintessenceofdust88]

Bucktommy + 46

👀👀👀👀

ohhhh anonnn, thank you for this ask, this was so much fun! 👀 I hope you enjoy this one! I swear I didn't mean to make it NSFW (just slightly! it's not explicit smut or anything, I regret to say D:) at first, but the boys took it away from me and they're horny bastards, so I'm adding a cut:

Buck enjoys coming to karaoke trivia night with Tommy. There's something special in seeing his boyfriend so comfortable in his own element, answering questions about movies (he knows every Oscar winner since 1929 and it's hot) and belting out 80s pop hymns that Buck barely know through cultural osmosis.

There's one thing he doesn't like about it: Nick.

Nick being a member of Tommy's trivia team, he's the brother of one of the other guys. Nick is new, he just moved back from Australia and has been to two trivia nights already. And Nick loves 80s songs, and movies, and craft beer, and apparently he has to let Tommy know all of that.

('Yes, I do love everything that comes from the 80s. Say, how old are you again, Tommy?') "So, Tommy", Buck overhears Nick saying in that insufferable fake accent when he's coming back with beers for him and Tommy. "How about we sing a duet next? Maybe that song from Dirty Dancing?'

Buck isn't that good with movie references, but he knows Dirty Dancing because he watched it with Tommy just last week. And yeah, this duet is not gonna happen.

"Actually, I've already booked us for a duet, babe. We're singing 'The Boy is Mine'. I hope you know that one, Nick" Buck says, putting the beers down and glaring daggers at Nick, then turning to Tommy. " Now come here, I missed you"

He doesn't wait for Tommy's answer; he pulls him close by the collar of his shirt and glues his lips to Tommy's with enough fierceness to bruise. Tommy groans against his lips, but if he had any intention to protest, it quickly melts down, and he wraps his arms around Buck's waist, kissing him back just as enthusiastically.

When they finally break apart, both gasping, Tommy's lips red and swollen, he's staring at Buck with his mouth agape and flushed cheeks and... Buck smirks as he looks down at Tommy's crotch; bad day to wear light pants, apparently.

"Yeah, we're not singing any duets" Tommy declares, voice weak and high-pitched. "We're going home. Right now" "Oh, I'm sure Nick will be more than glad to transmit our goodbyes, won't you, Nick?" Buck says smugly, taking Tommy's hand in his and practically dragging him towards the bar exit under Nick's indignant stare. "Fuck, Evan" Tommy says breathlessly as the cold air hits them when they get outside. "You are so hot when you get all possessive, but that was entirely unnecessary. You know I'm not even remotely interested in him, right?" "Oh, I know" Buck purrs, pressing Tommy against the wall of the bar, pinning his arms above his head and kissing him again, making sure to bite his lip before letting go. "I just love the opportunity of reminding you of who you belong to" Tommy's breath hitches, his lip bulging where Buck bit him, and he lets out a moan, squirming against Buck's strong hold. "I... I think I need a stronger reminder" He says, and Buck chuckles, pressing a kiss against his earlobe. "I'll remind you alright, Tommy" He promises. And by God, does Buck intend to fulfill that promise.

-- (Would anyone be interested in a continuation bc I *think* possessive!Buck might be enough to unblock the smutty writer in me, so let me know, ok?) Send me a ship and a number and I'll write you a kiss!

[demigod-shenanigans]

I originally mostly made this post based on silly thoughts, but you made me think about the concept again so here’s my thoughts on some of your questions:

The claiming is a very good question. Reyna would obviously have her tattoo, but would any of the Greek demigods even recognize it? Also, Annabeth and Reyna don‘t have showy, obvious powers the way Percy and Jason do.

Barely anyone at Camp Jupiter even knows what Reyna’s powers are. Her being unclaimed would be an interesting issue, since that’s not been a thing since the Titan war. Leo and Piper got claimed immediately, and everyone assumes so will Reyna, but then she’s not, and people have a lot of feelings about it. Does she go in the Hermes cabin like kids used to? Maybe Hestia, assuming she got a symbolic cabin like Hera? Percy was already fuming but he’s even madder now. Obviously something is weird about this particular demigod but that the gods aren’t claiming this girl is a really bad omen.

Because Minerva doesn’t have kids but Annabeth is such a good battle strategist, I feel like she’s probably presumed to be a child of Mars or Bellona, but since claiming isn’t as important at Camp Jupiter (at least not for placement like at CHB), it’s probably not a huge issue. She carried Juno across the Little Tiber, so they know she’s important, and who exactly her godly parent is isn’t that much of a focus. People definitely react strangely when she insists her mom is Athena.

The Octavian situation would be interesting because as mentioned above I’m not sure Jason would have handled the whole solo praetor thing nearly as well as Reyna did. Thank the gods for Annabeth honestly. She can and will go over every single one of New Rome’s legal texts in a few days so she can find the most strategically sound way to wipe the floor with him.

Hazel adores Annabeth. There’s also immediate kinship between them based on them both having difficult relationships with their mortal parent and partially raising themselves.

Also I love the concept of Reyna finding familiarities in Thalia and Annabeth finding ones in Jason. Excellent thought, 10/10. Reyna obviously wouldn’t remember Thalia like Jason does because that makes no sense whatsoever, and Hylla isn’t relevant to the lost hero quest like Thalia is, so if she remembers anyone, it’s probably Jason. (Not sure Jason ever mentioned Thalia, but the child of Zeus combined with the Grace last name doesn’t exactly make it very hard to figure that one out)

This means the wolf encounter with Reyna might be how Thalia finds out her brother is alive. She’s terrified to let herself hope, but also even more motivated to find the roman camp now that she knows both of her little siblings might be there.

Percy probably keeps the curse of Achilles in this scenario also, which is super interesting to me.

Reyna getting her memories back would be very messy for a bunch of pretty traumatic reasons. Her remembering her childhood and Bellona’s prophecy would probably not go over great. She was raised to believe the future of New Rome was on her shoulders, and now she a) cannot even remember where New Rome is and b) the prophecy of the seven definitely isn’t helping

And she feels incredibly guilty about how much of a relief it is to be at CHB and free of all that responsibility, at least for a little while. For all the issues she has with how disorganized and chaotic CHB is, the amount of pressure on her shoulders is different. And these are just a bunch of kids, especially during the winter when only the year rounders are there. There isn’t a whole vast city looking to her for guidance.

And dealing with Aphrodite’s prophecy on top of that, trying to figure out if she meant Reyna wouldn’t find love with Jason or that the feelings she’s starting to develop for Piper are doomed to end in a failed relationship… yeah, it’s messy. She’s sort of convinced there’s something fundamentally broken about the way she loves because it seems so different from how it works for everyone else (pushing my demiromantic ace Reyna agenda here too because I can)

Piper really wishes her mom would stop meddling in her love life for five seconds. (Meeting Aphrodite again in Charlestown when that was where Reyna originally got that prophecy would be super messy, too)

Reyna misses her dogs like hell. Jason is probably dog-sitting and hanging out with them whenever he misses her. I wonder how he’d deal with Reyna being changed by her experience at the other camp? Because he doesn’t have romantic feelings for her the way she did for him, so I don’t think he’d be bothered by Reyna dating Piper, but I do think he’d be hurt by the fact that she abandoned him for other people. It’s not her fault she doesn’t fully remember everything (assuming Jason not fully remembering everything would also be true for Reyna), but seeing that she’s apparently happier with Piper and Leo than she ever was with him? That still stings.

Thinking about a concept where Juno swaps Annabeth and Reyna instead.

Annabeth and Reyna are fine, because they’ve always been able to handle just about anything the gods threw at them. Piper accidentally has her gay awakening via fake memories of a relationship with Reyna and is really confused why her girlfriend is acting so weird. Reyna and Leo bicker non-stop because even without her memories Reyna knows what she’s doing and she’s very used to getting people to listen to her but Leo will not be serious for even one second.

Percy would start fist fighting the gods in the first week. Jason has never been more stressed in his life because he never even wanted to be praetor but it was manageable while he was doing it with Reyna and now he’s alone. What the hell is he supposed to do.

By the time Annabeth shows up at Camp Jupiter, Jason is so relieved someone knows what they’re doing that he immediately asks her to be praetor, now if she’ll excuse him he needs to go have an anxiety meltdown in a corner somewhere

[justwriting]

Kant, a truly misunderstood protagonist (THK EP 1-6)

Welcome to First’s 101 class in microexpressions to understand the journey of how Kant by Ep 6 has fallen deep into the clutches of our baby assassin (because it seems some people out there skipped the entirety of KB’s scenes and missed out K having a brother and was being blackmailed by Captain Christ – like how? This scene was pretty much in the first ½ hour of the show)

EP 1:

We can all at least agree Kant is super attracted to the cute dude in red, yeah? – Instant attraction:

And immediately falling in bed with a beautiful man like Bison – the whole red room scene (which I am not putting up for reference in this post because it will just chew up my photo limits – but go rewatch the scene to learn what First and Khaotung are portraying): pure lust & desire (no emotional attachment involved).

However, by the next day, where Kant still has no idea who Bison was apart from his hottest (to date) ONS – he was reminiscing and smiling like a fool about said encounter (and here, let me outline it for you what First was trying to portray – Kant having a crush on his ONS), daydreaming of what he just experienced:

When he finally met up with Bison again in the diner, which he engineered – that’s when his mission started. We can assume Captain Christ (CC) painted the picture Bison as a hard-ass killer. But how to reconcile this with sweet, baby face Bison?

There is certainly an element of deception to Kant – it was easy for him to “fake” some of his attraction (if you want to call it that) because at baseline, there is already an instant connection. Bonus if he can score some kisses and make out session with this beautiful assassin. This is a guy who has tangled with drug lords before and some danger excites him, yes?

So, the rest of Ep 1 was Kant being flirty and suave (and yes, with some trickery to those flirtatious manner). And you can tell, because Kant was putting all these big, exaggerated moves (like wanting to date and become boyfriends with Bison straight away) when he normally would have started cautiously:

However, he mixed this deceit with sincere tidbits about himself like the conversation by the lake when he shared the meaning of his name and his aquaphobia:

But by end of ep 1, Kant was starting to get slightly desperate. Bison is happy to flirt but not commit. Fadel is also in his way. Bison, being a good younger brother wants Fadel approval, and I suspect, a way for Kant to prove he is serious about pursuing him. Bison is also diabolical in that way because he is a cheeky, not-so-naïve baby boy (as proven by his sharp observant of Babe and James) – the only blinkers he appears to have been when Kant is involved (or Fadel) – the 2 persons he cares for the most.

And so, he enlists his trusty bestie (who else would he have called? Kant circle of friend starts and ends with Style. Otherwise, he only has Captain Devil breathing down his neck and his baby brother who he wants to protect from the big, bad world). Yes, it was misleading of Kant not to tell Style the truth immediately. However, Style is 100% chaos and unhinged at best (and to be honest, I don’t think he would have said no if Kant explained his situation).

** Style comes off as charming, but he is also annoying, has stalk-ish tendency, does not know personal boundaries and outside of Thai BL world, we would have called what he did to Fadel (in the locker room at the gym) sexual assault (because you don’t kiss someone without consent and get away with it as easily in real world).

EP 2:

The desperation is now in full force. Kant wants to get this mission underway quickly. He turns up the volume of his charm and repeatedly try to sneak in kisses or showing his big boba eyes to Bison in the hope of melting Bison’s heart. Bison does clock on desperation – but he is happy to continue to with the charade. After all, having a gorgeous, hunky tattooist hitting on you will be good for the ego (and soul)?

Kant and Bison’s scene at the tattooist place? – when Bison was showing his “cat underneath the Northern Lights” design, followed by Kant trying to feel up Bison’s thigh - now that was Kant being sleazy and Bison incredulously laugh, and smile showed he is very much aware of it but still attracted to him.

Despite the sleaziness though, there is still hint of Kant being attracted towards Bison too (see exhibit below) - that lips biting and quick top to bottom survey by Kant 👌

And while it was not shown, we can assume Kant is being hounded by CC about his mission. Thus, to get his mission further, we have Tawan and the whole “make Kant jealous and showing his possessive side” towards Bison. However, Bison does not seem that impressed with it. Amused, yes – he knows he can kill these 2 buffoons with his pinky if he wants to.

By now, Kant is starting to get annoyed. Bison is still playing hard to get. The whole milkshake scene – when Bison challenged him to prove his worth and join him in the dance-off challenge. Here, again let me point out to you the micro-expressions First were making – fond smile by how cute Bison was acting, followed by the minute change to his eyebrows and clenched jaw to express how irritated he was but quickly smoothing it out to hide his annoyance (link)

Now, the whole dance sequence is a masterpiece. Yes, it’s campy and an ode to Pulp Fiction but it also showed the state of Bison’s mind and if you look closely, you can see both boys relaxing and giving in to the silliness of the dance as it progresses until they become a unit and converge at the end – where Kant gives a genuine smile to Bison:

It was also the first time Bison finally gave in and gives those sweet pecks to Kant when the latter asked for it (I truly think it was the first time Bison saw the person underneath the suaveness, and he liked what he saw – someone who is happy to indulge in a bit of silliness and fun):

EP 3:

Just as Kant was relaxing somewhat, we have CC coming down like the devil he is. Kant expression at the pool – that’s a man who is fed-up and frustrated.

Because of his conversation with CC, he had to accelerate his timeline. This is when he started to make huge mistakes in the name of his mission.

Firstly, by hastily agreeing he is into BDSM. Oh, I have no doubt he could have learn to enjoy it in the right circumstances and if Bison had the opportunity to show it in a safe and controlled environment. At the very least, we could agree these 2 were horny of each other - as shown by the beautiful gifs: link here. And remember, this was after Bison put on the nipple clamps on Kant.

Alas, with Fadel cockblocking them, all that was left was lingering pain + bad experience for Kant. So, it was not surprising he looked wary and hesitant when Bison brought up the BDSM expect to their wager at Kant’s friend bar. Nevertheless, Kant pressed on because he needed to finish this mission (and preferably before his feelings get even more tangled up).

Either way, Kant is starting to feel fonder of Bison. Mission is still on the front, but cute scenes such as him helping at the diner is a reminder to the viewers that Kant does have some feelings for him (even as he used it to get ahead of his mission):

The whole bar scene followed by the sequence in Bison’s room was designed to provoke uneasiness. Here are 2 men who are not on the same wavelength in terms of their sexual desire. I hope people can at least read how uncomfortable and discompose Kant was even as he allowed Bison (in his drunken state) to tie him up.

EP 4:

The cracks are starting to show. Kant taking pictures of the BDSM gears and Northern Lights photos are unnecessary for the mission – and after revisiting the episode, I think he took those pictures as part of him learning more about Bison (just as he jots down all of Bison likes/dislikes when they officially start dating in Ep 5). Similarly, him caressing the trophy he won with Bison? – that is Kant subconsciously showing his fondness (and perhaps wistfulness) to simpler time:

Anyway, this episode was when Kant and Bison starts to communicate slightly better – progress! I mean, it’s more about Babe but you know – baby steps. All Bison wanted was for Kant to open to him (one of the main reasons why Bison has hesitated before because he could sense that Kant has never fully made himself feel vulnerable).

So, Babe and “being bullied in school” is the catalyst for KantBison to truly form a connection – they both value family and brotherhood above all others, and in this, we can see Bison softening towards Kant (especially as Kant opens up about his past as a car thief, admitting he is not proud of it but he does want he must to feed Babe). Similarly, Kant is starting to see Bison as more than just a beautiful, merciless killer. This man helped him without hesitation, be his Robin to his terrible Batman. He sees someone with some moral compass – Bison powerful statement to the paedophile about “grooming” must hit a nerve in the boys (because I hope we can agree here that both Madam Lilly and CC ‘groomed’ our boys). Bison since he was a child and Kant, barely out of high school, not knowing about laws and scared out of his wits, agreeing to do the police dirty works to make sure Babe is not put in the foster system (which really hits me – HOW LONG HAS CAPTAIN DEVIL BEEN USING KANT AS HIS LACKEY???)

By the end of this episode, Kant is oscillating between relief, joy and guilt depending on what is the most pressing thing in his mind at that time –  CC or his blossoming affection towards Bison. Sadly, no matter how much he likes Bison, Babe will always come first – all good parents put their children first and Kant who has parent-fied his younger brother for god knows how many years, will do the same.

The scenes when Bison gave his heart (and HeartBurger pin) at the bar followed by Kant’s showering scene highlights this beautifully:

(such a contrast when Bison is the one initiating the sweet pecks - Kant looking pleasingly surprised)

Guilt in his face

EP 5:

Kant is now slowly falling in love with Bison. All the little things he jots in his phone about Bison’s quirks, likes and dislikes show this. He didn’t have to show this off to Bison for his mission. Same with the date at the Arcade as it doesn’t really add on anything else towards his mission. He did all of these because he wants to learn about his boyfriend.

However, the introduction of James does highlight several things about Kant.

It underscores Kant’s worry about Bison (and how much he still does not know about Bison’s core values even as he is slowly getting to know him). We know Bison won’t kill the innocents (even if those people are jerks like James) but Kant doesn’t know this. Even then, he is still concerned for both James AND Bison. He doesn’t want Bison to hurt anyone not just because of altruistic reasons but he has started to care for Bison (and his soul).

Kant reaching out to Fadel and getting Style to persuade the latter to call Bison proves this. Even more when he subconsciously called Fadel “brother-in-law.” Kant said it in a rush as he quickly ran out to catch up with Bison – which means he really didn’t have the time to “plan” this encounter.

However, Bison and James confrontation made Kant determine to finish his mission off. It’s a reminder that dating Bison comes with risk. The double-date may have doubled (heh, a pun!) as a cover for him to put his shoddily espionage plan in motion – yet we could see Kant really enjoying himself when he was singing with Bison. Even those sweet pecks and pinkie gestures were genuine (or as much as it could be given the circumstances):

But by the end of the episode, when Bison worshipped Kant’s body (and I must say, what a wonderful scene to see Bison choosing to yield when he would have previously challenged Kant), that’s when viewers could see it. Kant’s soft tone as he gently caressed Bison’s jaw. And that tortured look as he closed his eyes even as Bison trustfully snuggled by him – yup, this is man who is regretting and tormented by his choice. I think we can safely say, he has truly fallen in love with Bison.

EP 6:

Kant is now way too deep and stuck in a hard place. He tries to get out of his deal with Captain Devil without success. His silence speaks volume when Captain Devil stated Kant has fallen in love with Bison.

His discussion with Style further emphasized this point – Style asked whether Kant could give up Bison. But he also pointed out Kant is toast if Bison finds out the truth.  

And so, if he must give up the boy he has fallen in love to make sure Babe is not left to fend alone in this world – he planned the most elaborate, romantic date of what he wished he could have with the man who gave his heart to him in the initial place he saw said man when everything was clearer without any lies between them.

Kant broke countless of rules (as listed by Bison including trespassing, breaking & entering, destroying property and thieving) to have one special, magical night of what he envisioned to have with future Bison if things were simpler.

It is a testament to First (and Khaotung) as amazing actors that we can feel the wistfulness and bittersweet feelings from Kant while Bison shows a hopeful beginning to what he thinks is a joint future together. It was beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time:

Link for above screenshot here

After the ill-fated mission where we sees Bison saving Babe, Kant has truly fallen for Bison. Even as he tries to convince Style to move on, he struggles to do it himself. Style intuitively perceives this when Kant joined him to find their respective lovers at the burger joint – hence, why he suggested that Kant adopts Bison’s black cat.

So, by the end of the episode 6 – we see Kant pining away while drowning his sorrow and regrets by drinking at his friend’s bar. The hope and guilt in his eyes when Bison called out to him is palpable:

If you reach the end of this long post - I salute you. Because this was just me rambling on to make sure I did not misjudged Kant's character (and I didn't!) - First has done a wonderful job portraying himself as a single parent who sacrifices his needs and desire to make sure his younger sibling has every comfort and leisure he can give - even if it means he plays dirty and make deal with the devil.

[inlovewithmyhyperfixations]

Patronus- a jegulus microfic (648 words).(inspo: @aithusarosekiller)

Regulus was worried. Worried his brother won’t show up. Worried the spell won’t work. Worried how he’s going to tell Sirius about his secret.

   He was pacing now, back and forth, over and over again; the voice in his head growing louder and louder.

    He should’ve never slipped that letter to Sirius, he was an idiot. Why should he respond? Why would he even co-

     “Reg?” A voice spoke. Regulus turned around quickly, eyes a little too wide and skin a little too pale.

  It was Sirius, he was actually here. 

Regulus let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, and felt his body relax. “Hello brother.” He said, nodding at him. Sirius looked at him, eyebrows slightly raised. “Did you really think I wouldn’t show up?” He said smoothly, walking over to Regulus and throwing an arm around his shoulder. “You’re my brother, of course I’ll come.” He said, “Besides, now you owe me something.” He added. Regulus grimaced and took his brother’s arm off him. Of course Sirius would say something like that.

“Now, what do we need to do?” He asked, and Regulus mumbled something a little too softly. “Er..what?” His brother asked, and Regulus sighed. He should have never invited him here.

“I want to learn how to cast a patronus.” He said somewhat quickly, and Sirius grinned. “You mean to say that little Reggie wants my he-“

“I’m too much of a bad person.” He cut his brother off sharply, ignoring the nickname. Sirius looked at him, a look of small sadness in his eyes. “Reggie..” he started.

“This was stupid. Just leave.” Regulus said, not looking at his brother. How could he expect him to understand this?

“Well what kind of brother would I be if I left you here?” He asked, and strides over to him. “You’re not a bad person, Reg; you just need a good memory.” Sirius explained. “You need to let it fill you up, you need to feel the happiness.” Regulus just looked at him. “A happy memory? Me? Are you-“ He started, but realized who he was talking to, and decided not to finish his sentence. He exhaled. A happy memory. This shouldn’t be too hard.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

It had been an hour. That’s how long Sirius had been in that room, trying to help Regulus with his patronus. “Reg, if you want, we can try tomor-“

“No.” Regulus cut him off, and Sirius sighed. “Reg, it doesn’t have to be an exact memory. I bet you could have a memory about a certain person. Or people, just, yknow, how they make you feel. Use that happiness and, well, make a patronus.” He said, and Regulus glared at him, but he seemed to take his advice seriously, and he exhaled, looking more focused than ever.

“Expecto Patronum!” Regulus yelled for what seemed to be the hundredth time. Sirius looked up from his arm, which was covered in tiny ink drawings, and he almost choked. 

The patronus worked, but it wasn't a cat, or even a lion.

It was a stag. A motherfucking stag. 

Sirius felt like he was going to explode. It could’ve been a coincidence, he tried to tell himself, but he knew better. There’s no way that’s been his patronus this entire time. 

His brother was in love with his best friend. And he had no idea what he was going to do.

Regulus looked at his brother, his eyes sparkling. He looked more happy than ever. “You saw that, right?!” He yelled, and Sirius was taken back to the time Regulus showed him his first spell.

“Yeah,” Sirius said weakly. But he saw his brother. For the first time in a while, he saw him. And he was happy. And if James was going to make him happy..

well, he would be a shitty brother to keep him away.

(@idkjustlemmedrownlikerab)

[enemiestolovershoe]

can you write one were reader is matts sister and Noahs best friend and the band always tease the shit out of them when their glued together? thank you:)

Subtle’s Overrated

Noah Sebastian x bsf!dierkes!reader

Summary: Y/N and Noah’s friendship sparks teasing and undeniable chemistry on tour, but when feelings finally surface, nothing—especially their bandmates—can keep them apart.

Words: 4k

Warnings: Teasing, Friends to Lovers, Use of Alcohol, Mention of smoking weed, I din't proofread it so maybe there's gonna be mistakes. lmk if i forgot something.

Disclaimer: While the characters in this story are inspired by real people, the events and interactions are purely fictional and not reflective of reality.

The airport was buzzing with early morning activity, travelers pulling their luggage through the terminal, announcements echoing overhead. You were leaning against one of the sleek chrome pillars, your carry-on by your feet, scrolling through your phone to pass the time.

Noah was right beside you, as usual. He had his arms crossed, a hoodie tugged over his messy hair, and he was squinting at the boarding pass in his hand like it was written in hieroglyphics.

"I swear they make these things harder to read every year," he muttered, flipping it over like the back might offer some hidden insight.

"It’s not a riddle, Noah," you said with a laugh, reaching out to snatch it from him. "Gate 22. Terminal C. You’ve been doing this for years, and you still act like it’s your first time at an airport."

"Not all of us are travel pros like you, princess," he shot back, smirking as he leaned casually into your space.

Before you could reply, a loud wolf whistle interrupted the moment.

"Ah, look at ‘em! Joined at the hip, as always!" Nick Folio’s voice carried across the terminal as he walked over, balancing a precariously large coffee in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other. "Should we just start planning the wedding now?"

"Shut up, Folio," you groaned, rolling your eyes, though the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed your nonchalance.

"Yeah, shut up, Folio," Noah parroted, tossing a crumpled napkin at him. "Jealousy’s a bad look on you."

Nick feigned hurt, clutching his chest. "Jealous? Me? Never. I just think you two make a cute couple."

"Do you ever let up?" Jolly chimed in as he approached, his bag slung over one shoulder. "I mean, they’ve been attached at the hip since day one, and nothing’s happened yet. Maybe they’re just... eternal besties."

"Or they’re both in denial," Matt teased, appearing out of nowhere and clapping Noah on the back hard enough to make him stumble. "Classic slow burn."

"Right, because you’re such an expert on relationships," you shot back, raising an eyebrow at your older brother.

"Hey," Matt replied, grinning. "Just calling it like I see it. And as your big brother, it’s my job to keep the guy glued to your side in line."

"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, shaking your head as the rest of the group laughed.

"Big brother or not, you’re still a pain," Noah quipped, though there was no malice in his tone.

"As if you’re one to talk," Matt retorted, pointing at him. "If I had a dollar for every time you’ve mooched off her snacks, I’d be retired by now."

The group chuckled, and even you couldn’t help but crack a smile. This was the usual routine, and as much as you liked to complain about it, it was comforting in a way.

As the teasing died down, Nicholas Ruffilo joined the circle, pulling out his phone. "So," he began, "who’s gonna be the one to lose their luggage this time?"

"My money’s on Noah," Jolly said without hesitation.

"Why me?" Noah protested, looking genuinely offended.

"You lost your passport twice last year," Jolly replied flatly.

"That’s different!"

"How?"

"Uh, it just is," Noah said, his argument faltering as you snorted.

"I’ll help you keep track of your stuff this time," you offered, patting his shoulder mockingly.

"You’re a saint," he said, putting a hand over his heart. "An angel sent to save me from myself."

"Don’t encourage him," Matt groaned, shaking his head.

The overhead speakers crackled to life, announcing the boarding process for your flight. Matt immediately took charge, ushering everyone toward the gate.

"Alright, lovebirds, let’s move it," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"We’re not—"

"Save it," Nick interrupted, throwing an arm around your shoulders as the group started walking. "We all know it’s just a matter of time."

You exchanged a glance with Noah, who shrugged with a small, amused smile. It was the same old joke, but this time, there was a flicker of something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.

As you reached the gate, Noah fell into step beside you, close enough that your arms brushed. "You ever feel like they know something we don’t?" he asked quietly, just for you to hear.

"All the time," you admitted, your voice just as soft.

The moment hung in the air for a beat too long before Matt’s voice broke it. "Hurry up, or we’re leaving you behind!"

With a shared smirk, you and Noah picked up the pace, falling into step with the rest of the band.

The plane was relatively quiet as everyone settled into their usual spots. You slid into the window seat with a satisfied sigh, propping your backpack under the seat in front of you. Noah dropped into the middle seat beside you, and Folio followed, plopping down with a dramatic groan.

“Man, who made planes so cramped?” Folio grumbled, stretching his legs as far as they could go without hitting the seat in front of him.

“Quit complaining, Folio,” Matt called from his aisle seat, shooting him a look over Ruffilo’s head. “You know it’s worse on the tour bus.”

“True, but at least I don’t get stuck in the middle of these two on the bus.” Folio gestured to you and Noah. “You’re like magnets, always leaning into each other.”

“Jealous you’re not in the middle?” Noah quipped, earning a snort from Jolly.

“Nah, man. I just don’t want to be collateral damage when this whole slow-burn romance finally combusts,” Folio said, winking at you.

You groaned and shoved his arm lightly. “You guys really need new material.”

“Maybe we’ll stop when you two finally admit it,” Jolly chimed in, earning a chorus of agreement from the others.

Noah just smirked, leaning back in his seat. “Keep dreaming, guys.”

As the plane took off and the initial excitement of the flight settled down, everyone fell into their own routines. Matt pulled out his laptop, muttering something about emails, while Ruffilo popped in his earbuds and started sketching on his tablet. Folio tapped away on his phone, and Jolly was already half-asleep, head tilted against the window.

You glanced at Noah, who was scrolling aimlessly through his phone. “What are you looking at?” you asked softly.

“Nothing interesting,” he said, tilting the screen toward you briefly before locking it. “You thinking of sleeping?”

“Maybe,” you replied with a yawn, leaning your head back. “Flights always make me sleepy.”

“You always knock out within the first hour,” he teased, grinning.

“Can’t help it,” you murmured, already feeling the pull of sleep. Without thinking, you shifted slightly, leaning your headagainst Noah’s shoulder. It wasn’t the first time, and judging by the way he didn’t even flinch, it wasn’t a big deal to him, either.

Time passed, and you drifted off, your breathing evening out as the noise of the plane faded into the background.

It wasn’t long before the teasing began.

“Look at him,” Jolly whispered from across the aisle, his voice low but just loud enough for Noah to hear. “He looks like he’s holding his breath.”

“I think he’s afraid to move,” Ruffilo added, smirking. “Wouldn’t want to wake her, huh?”

“I’m not afraid to move,” Noah said defensively, though he kept his voice quiet so as not to wake you. “I just don’t want her to wake up cranky.”

“Oh, sure,” Matt interjected, leaning forward to get a better look. “That’s a real heroic excuse. But let’s be honest, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Noah shot him a look. “You’re her brother. Shouldn’t you be discouraging this kind of teasing?”

“Should I?” Matt said, feigning deep thought. “Nah, this is too much fun.”

“Careful, Noah,” Folio added, nudging him. “You keep letting her nap on you, and the next thing you know, you’ll be the designated human pillow.”

“Already am,” Noah muttered, but there was no real annoyance in his tone.

The ribbing continued for a bit longer before everyone settled back into their respective distractions. Noah shifted slightly, trying to keep his arm from going numb under your weight. Despite the teasing, he couldn’t help but smile faintly at how peaceful you looked.

As the captain announced the descent, Noah gently nudged your shoulder. “Hey, we’re landing soon. Time to wake up.”

You stirred, blinking sleepily and taking a moment to realize where you were. “Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

“Don’t apologize,” Noah said, his voice soft. “You looked like you needed it.”

From across the aisle, Jolly piped up, “Did you get any drool on him this time?”

“Jolly!” you exclaimed, your cheeks flushing as the rest of the band burst out laughing.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Jolly said, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Noah just smirked, grabbing your carry-on from under the seat. “Ignore them. They’re just mad they don’t have someone to nap on.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as everyone prepared to disembark.

The airport was bustling with activity as you and the band made your way outside, your bags in tow. In the bus parking lot, your familiar tour bus stood waiting. Its sleek exterior and logo had become a second home over the years.

As you approached, Folio let out a dramatic sigh. “Ah, the tour bus. Where dreams of legroom come to die.”

You climbed aboard with Noah right behind you. As expected, you both took the booths across from each other—the same ones you’d claimed on every tour since your first. He threw his backpack onto the seat before flopping down, stretching his long legs.

“Surprise, surprise,” Matt said as he followed behind. “You two gravitate toward each other like it’s magnetic.”

“Yeah, we get it, Matt,” you replied, rolling your eyes but smiling. “Maybe we just like consistency.”

“Consistency, huh?” Jolly drawled, sliding into a booth further back. “Sure it’s not because you two can’t go five minutes without making googly eyes at each other?”

Noah shot him a look. “You’re projecting, man.”

“Yeah, totally projecting,” you chimed in, grinning.

“Call it what you want,” Matt teased as he threw his bag into the seat beside him, “but it’s only a matter of time before we’re writing ‘Mr. and Mrs.’ on the bus windows.”

Ruffilo smirked. “Or printing it on the next batch of merch.”

“You guys are insufferable,” you muttered, trying to suppress your laughter.

The drive to the venue was filled with similar banter, the kind that made the long hours on the road bearable. When the bus finally pulled into the lot behind the venue, everyone piled out, stretching and groaning after the ride.

Inside, the band got straight to work setting up for soundcheck. You wandered into the sound booth where Matt was stationed, helping coordinate with the crew.

“You’re still gonna be my unpaid assistant this tour, right?” he asked, grinning as you leaned against the console.

“Of course,” you said with mock enthusiasm. “Living the dream.”

As the band began their soundcheck, you couldn’t help but watch Noah. He was in his element, mic in hand, his voice effortlessly commanding the space. The way he moved, the focus in his expression—it was mesmerizing.

“Subtle,” Matt said dryly, breaking your trance.

“Huh?” You turned to him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

“Your staring,” he teased. “You’re not exactly sneaky about it.”

“I’m just watching the sound levels,” you lied, feigning nonchalance.

Matt chuckled. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

The band wrapped up soundcheck, and everyone took a break before the show. Back in the green room, the teasing resumed as everyone grabbed snacks and drinks.

“Are we gonna have to peel you two apart again tonight?” Jolly asked, smirking as he sipped his water.

“Not unless you want to lose a limb,” Noah shot back, earning a laugh from Folio.

“Relax, man,” Folio said. “We’re just pointing out the obvious. You two are like those couples in rom-coms—everyone knows what’s coming except you.”

“We’re not a couple,” you said, exasperated. “Can we change the subject?”

“No,” Ruffilo replied immediately, earning a high-five from Jolly.

As showtime approached, you found yourself backstage, the energy in the venue electrifying. The band took the stage, and you couldn’t help but sing along and dance to every song, caught up in the moment.

From where you stood, you could see Noah glancing your way more than once, a small smile tugging at his lips when he caught your eye.

When the show ended, the crowd’s cheers still echoing in your ears, you were more than hyped. The moment Noah stepped offstage, sweaty and flushed from the performance, you ran to him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

“Y/N,” he laughed, his voice still rough from singing. “I’m literally soaked in sweat.”

“I don’t care,” you said, grinning as you held on tighter.

“Aww,” Jolly cooed from behind you. “A post-show love fest.”

“Jealous?” Noah shot back, his arms briefly tightening around you before he pulled away, though his smile lingered.

Before you could respond, Matt approached, crossing his arms as he looked at the two of you. “Still hugging, huh?”

“Don’t start,” you warned, though your tone lacked any real bite.

“I’ll start if I want to,” Matt said, smirking. “But I’ve got a better idea. Drinks to celebrate the first show?”

Noah glanced at you, his brow quirking. “What do you think?”

“Sounds perfect,” you replied, still buzzing with excitement.

“Great,” Matt said, clapping his hands. “Let’s pack up and get out of here.”

The bar was dimly lit, buzzing with music and chatter as you and the band made your way to the VIP section. The staff had cordoned off a cozy corner for you, complete with plush leather couches and a low table littered with menus and coasters.

Matt was quick to take charge, ordering the first round of drinks. He came back carrying a tray with an assortment of glasses, grinning like he’d just won a prize.

“To the first show of the tour!” he declared, raising his glass.

“To surviving another tour without killing each other,” Jolly added dryly, earning a laugh from the group as everyone clinked glasses.

The night unfolded in a haze of laughter, stories, and an ever-growing pile of empty glasses. It wasn’t long before Folio and Matt were deep into their cups, leaning heavily into their drunken states.

Folio slumped back into the couch, a lazy grin on his face. “Damn, I’m so drunk,” he mumbled to himself, chuckling. “Shouldn’t have smoked that joint during the show.”

You and Noah, seated next to each other on the crowded couch, exchanged amused glances and laughed quietly at Folio’s confession.

“What’s so funny?” Folio slurred, his glassy eyes focusing on the two of you. Then he paused, squinting as if his vision had just betrayed him. “Wait a minute… are you… sitting on his lap?”

Your cheeks immediately flushed as you realized he was right. The couches were too crowded, and at some point, you’d perched yourself on Noah’s lap to make room. It had felt casual—comfortable even—but now, under Folio’s scrutiny, it was anything but.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, trying to play it cool. “There’s no room.”

“No room,” Folio repeated, his grin widening. “Sure, let’s call it that.”

“Here we go,” Noah muttered under his breath, his arm resting lightly around your waist to keep you steady.

Folio leaned forward, as much as his inebriated state allowed, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You’re awfully cozy for two people who are ‘just friends.’”

“It’s practical,” you countered, though your voice lacked conviction.

“Practical,” Matt chimed in, sliding onto the couch beside Jolly with his drink in hand. His face was flushed, his grin even wider than usual. “That’s what we’re calling it now?”

“Oh, come on,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“No, no, let’s explore this,” Matt said, clearly delighted. “You’re telling me, out of all the space in this VIP section, the only place you could sit is on Noah’s lap?”

“Exactly,” Noah said with a straight face, though the corners of his mouth twitched. “It’s basic physics.”

“Physics,” Matt repeated, laughing. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Better than whatever logic you’re using to justify that shirt,” Noah shot back, gesturing at Matt’s garishly patterned button-up.

“Deflection,” Folio sang, pointing at Noah like he’d cracked some great mystery. “Classic deflection.”

“You two are unbelievable,” you said, shaking your head, though you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Unbelievable? No, no, no,” Matt said, his voice full of mock indignation. “What’s unbelievable is that you’ve been in each other’s pockets for years, and you’re still pretending nothing’s going on.”

Folio nodded vigorously, almost spilling his drink. “They’re like… like one of those slow-cooking stews. Taking forever, but you know it’s gonna be good when it’s done.”

Noah groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, I think it’s time to get these two to bed.”

You nodded, standing up and grabbing Folio’s arm. “Come on, big guy. Let’s go.”

“I’m fine!” Folio protested, though he made no effort to resist as you and Noah guided him out of the booth.

“You’re fine, huh?” Noah said, steadying him when he stumbled. “Tell that to your liver.”

Behind you, Jolly and Ruffilo waved lazily from the booth. “We’ll hang out a bit longer,” Ruffilo called. “Good luck with those two.”

The walk back to the bus was anything but quiet.

“You two looked real comfortable back there,” Matt teased, slurring slightly but still sharp enough to make you groan.

“It’s not like that,” you said for what felt like the hundredth time, focusing on getting him up the bus steps.

“Sure, sure,” Folio chimed in, leaning heavily on Noah. “Bet you’re just gonna sit on his lap the whole tour, huh?”

“Folio, shut up,” Noah said, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

Once you got them into their bunks—after much coaxing and a few more poorly aimed jokes—you and Noah retreated to the living room section at the back of the bus. It was quiet now, the gentle hum of the bus’s engine filling the space.

You sank onto the couch, exhaling a long breath. “Well, that was… something.”

“Every tour starts like this,” Noah said, sitting across from you. He leaned back, stretching his arms along the top of the couch. “It’s like a rite of passage.”

You laughed softly, running a hand through your hair. “I’m surprised they didn’t start singing wedding bells on the way back.”

“Oh, give them time,” he replied with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. A comfortable silence settled between you, and when you glanced up, you caught Noah watching you, his head tilted slightly, a faint smirk on his lips.

“What?” you asked, your brow furrowing.

“Nothing,” he said, though the look in his eyes suggested otherwise.

“Come on,” you pressed, leaning forward slightly. “What’s that look for?”

He shrugged, his smirk deepening. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You,” he said simply, his voice low but teasing.

Noah’s smirk didn’t waver, his gaze steady and warm as he leaned slightly closer. The faint hum of the bus seemed louder in the quiet.

“What about me?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper, curiosity and nervousness mingling in your tone.

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully, and then his lips curved into a gentle smile. “You’re really beautiful, you know that?”

Your breath caught for a second, and you blinked at him, taken off guard. “What?”

He chuckled, the sound low and almost shy, a stark contrast to his usual confidence. “I’m serious. You are.”

A flush crept up your neck as you tried to find your voice. “Noah…”

“What?” he teased, leaning his elbows on his knees, his body angled toward you. “Can’t I say something nice without you getting all flustered?”

“I’m not flustered,” you shot back, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

“Right,” he said with a knowing smile, his eyes sparkling.

You folded your arms, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Why now? What’s with the sudden compliments?”

He shrugged, his expression softening. “Maybe it’s not sudden. Maybe I’ve always thought it, but I’m just bad at saying it out loud.”

Your heart thudded in your chest at his words. “You think… you think they were right all this time? About us?”

“No,” he said firmly, his voice steady and leaving no room for doubt.

Your stomach dropped a little. “Oh.”

He tilted his head, studying your reaction, and then his lips quirked into a small smile. “I don’t think they were right. I know they were.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in closer, his hand lightly brushing against your knee. The air between you felt charged, the space too small yet not enough.

And then he kissed you.

It started slow, tentative, as if testing the waters. His lips were soft, warm, and they lingered against yours just long enough for your breath to hitch. When you didn’t pull away—when you leaned into him, your hands instinctively finding his shoulders—it deepened.

Noah’s hand slid to your waist, guiding you closer as the kiss grew more passionate. The world outside the bus seemed to disappear, leaving only the quiet hum of the engine and the racing of your heartbeat.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, and he pulled you onto his lap without hesitation. The moment felt electric, the years of teasing, tension, and unspoken words finally snapping into place.

His lips moved against yours with a fervor that sent your mind spinning. You shifted slightly, your knees pressing into the cushions on either side of his hips. His hands rested firmly on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

It was as if nothing else mattered, just the two of you finally crossing an invisible line that had been drawn so long ago.

And then—

“Damn, I’m wayyy too dizzy to sleep in that tiny bunk—” Folio’s voice cut through the haze, slurred but loud enough to make you both freeze.

Your head whipped around, your eyes wide, as Folio stumbled into the living room. He stopped mid-step, his eyes blinking rapidly as they focused on the scene in front of him.

“Oh,” he said, his tone laced with a mix of shock and amusement. “Ohhhhhh.”

You scrambled off Noah’s lap, your cheeks burning hotter than the sun as you tried to compose yourself. Noah, on the other hand, stayed seated, though he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his expression caught somewhere between frustration and bemusement.

“Folio,” you started, your voice a pitch higher than normal. “What are you doing up?”

He pointed vaguely in the direction of the bunks. “Too dizzy. Needed air. Did not expect to walk into… whatever this is.”

“This isn’t… it’s not—” you stammered, flailing for words.

Folio smirked, leaning against the doorframe. “Nah, don’t stop on my account. Just… maybe put a sock on the door next time or something?”

“Go to bed, Folio,” Noah said, his tone exasperated but still holding a hint of a smile.

Folio gave a mock salute before stumbling back toward the bunks, muttering something about how the tour was going tobe very interesting.

As soon as he was out of earshot, you buried your face in your hands. “Oh my God.”

Noah chuckled, his hand reaching out to tug gently at your wrist, pulling your hands away. “Well, that wasn’t exactly how I imagined this going.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though your face was still flaming. “So much for subtle.”

“Subtle’s overrated anyway,” he said, his smirk returning as he pulled you back down beside him.

Taglist: @courta13

A/N: Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Let me know if you'd like me to continue this as a mini-series. Also, my asks are always open—feel free to request anything!

[floylia]

# MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾

18. It means, my dear sister 💌

Spending money becomes a hobby when it doesn’t come out of your pockets.

“So what are you thinking of buying him?” You ask while sipping a bubble tea–the very drink that caused your descent into a comfortable pile of pillows.

Thoma runs a hand through his golden hair before scanning the clothing racks, “That’s why you’re here because, I have no idea.”

“And I’m supposed to know?”

He stops in his tracks, tilts his head, and squints. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. You always can–Thoma is an open book, but something about his gaze makes you uneasy. He takes a sip of his drink and shrugs, “Two heads are better than one.”

You sigh and it’s not a breath of relief, “How about clothes?”

Thoma shakes his head in disapproval as he feels the fabric of a navy blue polo, “He has more luxury brands than I can count.” That’s not surprising considering the car Childe owns or the clothes he wears in his posts. You can tell he comes from a wealthy family both in love and money.

“Did you ask him what he wants?”

Thoma looks at you as if you were a failed experiment he had the consequence of cleaning after–synonymous with the expression he gives you every day so it’s no different, just exaggerated, “If he told me, I wouldn’t be here. He said, “Surprise me,” With what? A successful talking stage? A therapist?”

You chuckled, recalling the conversation you had a few hours ago. You surmise that the ginger is more of a provider than a receiver. Perhaps in all context, “I bet he’d like anything you give him.”

“He would. He’s like a golden retriever on crack. He’s a dumbass, but he’s funny so it cancels out. It reminds me of a time when he was practicing in the gym for a swim competition—and a girl walked in looking for something. He thought she was pretty so he started acting cool but in the locker room there was a huge rat and he came out screaming, “I’m not a pervert.”

You giggle with your brother whose head is thrown back from a fit of laughter. His free hand hovered over his stomach and his face was bright tomato. You recall the day it happened–how gorgeous Childe looked in the water and how silly he seemed running out for help. That was a throwback.

“That’s insane.”

He nods aggressively while catching his breath, trying to form the right words without coughing, “Exactly, but I think he’s hung up on that girl.”

“Really?” You act surprised.

“I just have a hunch.”

“Does he like that girl?” Maybe you shouldn’t have pressed. But when Childe is the subject of conversation you seem to want more, to know more, to see more.

Your brother thinks. You know that expression too well. Something he does as a habit every time he’s being witty, thinking of trouble, or giving you the best advice your parents couldn’t compare to. Finally, he finds his thoughts, “I’m not sure, he has a habit of getting attached and disconnecting. It’s happened before–multiple times.”

“Oh.”

The thing about the English language or any language for that matter is that there are words used interchangeably depending on the tone one uses–either surprise, disappointment, or disgust.

And the thing about Thoma is that he reads people, especially those he holds dear.

“But with her…” He begins, “It’s different. The way he talks about her is the same as when he talks about swimming–You can see the passion.”

That comforts you. It gives you hope, but too much of it is dangerous. Childe is a book everyone discusses with praise and you want to know why but a part of you dreads that once you do, you won’t like the ending. That you’ll be disappointed with the money and time you spent because the hype wasn’t for you.

But curiosity is human greed. And Childe is a conversation you want to have, “What does he say about her?”

“Why do you want to know?”

Because I’m scared of being disappointed again.

“I’m just curious—you made him sound like a playboy. Maybe the girl needs to be warned.”

“It’s not like he’s a bad guy. I just don’t want him or her to get hurt. Relationships aren’t easy—you know that.”

“What if…” You start, already regretting the question in your head. But Thoma looks at you expectantly, urging you to continue, “I started seeing someone like him… what would you say?”

“I’d say fuck him.”

“I’ve been trying to.”

He shoves you out of the store and you almost stumble next to a person.

“I’m joking! Give me a serious answer then.”

He crosses his arms and squints his eyes before raising a brow, “Why? Who’s this guy? What’s his name?”

You give him a look.

He matches it but he gives in, “Someone like Childe? There’s no one like him. As much as I shit on him, he has a good character, and I respect that. So I’d say unless you’re bringing the real one, don’t come home at all.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, my dear sister…” Thoma opens his mouth then shuts it close only to shake his head as if constricting himself, “Don’t worry about it.”

“What?”

He shrugs and says nothing more.

You follow your brother, pushing back the conversation you had despite the questions ramming your head every thirty seconds.

But when you pass by a cosmetic store, a new thought comes to mind.

“You should buy him skin care.”

NOTES:

👀👀 i’m on a roll with these updates

SYNOPSIS: There’s a line Childe knows he shouldn’t cross; A line built on years of friendship; A line that happens to cross you, his best friend’s younger sister, grieving her first love; A line where he plays savior, wears a halo, then feign ignorance, because love is a game for fools—and he happens to be the biggest idiot when it comes to love.

When a new stranger invades your life and an old poet writes back

CHILDE x FEM!READER

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TAGLIST (OPEN): @thegalaxyisunfolding @stratusworld @tiramizuloz @miy-svz @trulyylee @batatinhafriita @scaradooche @yuminako @m1njizzie @mtndewbajablasted @fadedpinkpen @vavrin @kioffy @kokoomie @ashveil @tired-jaz @nia333 @riabriyn @kyon-cherri @kitsunetori @morgyyyyyyy @kazumiku @ichorstainedskin @hanilessa @s4ikooo1 @matolka @appy-slicez @monocerosei @mostlymoth @heathnyfangirl @meigalaxy @x-hihihi-x @lunaavity @ladyofpandemonium @coffeeisbehindyou @mentallyunpresent @wrangleanangel @littlesliceofcheese @ell1e2010 @vi0let-writes @strawbyan @blupi02 @eccendentesiast-sapphic @aixaingela @fo-love @mickey-d-luffy @nanfufu @cryoarchoness @li-x1nyu @crucnhice @jayzioxx @lumineskies @scalyalpaca @saechiro @tojisball @lulumallow @idkwhattoputasmyusernme

[bowsandsturniolos]

pairing: sub!chris x soft!dom!reader

warnings: smut, dirty + sweet talk, hand job, begging, no actual p in v, teasing, edging, oral, no use of y/n, dry humping, use of vibe, pet names (baby, sweetheart, good boy, ma, etc).

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you're on chris's lap, his boner poking into your thigh. you let out a shaky sigh, your resolve slowly crumbling more and more.

"chris, your brothers are home. this isn't.. no." you mumble, for some reason still trying to reason with him, knowing damn well he won't break.

"please, ma? i need you. s-so.. fuck. so bad." he whispers, rutting his hips up. your tongue runs along your inner cheek as you stare at the wall, thinking.

if you're honest, you don't really feel like having sex right now. but you still want to get chris off. you glance over at the needy boy trapped between your thighs.

"can you stay quiet?" you ask casually, cocking an eyebrow. you know damn well he can't. but maybe he'll try.

"yes, ma. i'll.." he swallows. "i'll be good. i'll be.. quiet." his breathing is labored, his stomach already heaving. you haven't layed a finger on him.

"take your clothes off." he shudders but wastes no time, immediately tugging down his red shorts, along with his white tee, leaving him in his red boxers, a prominent bulge tenting the crotch.

"those too." you say sternly, lifting your shirt over your head and tugging down your shorts, leaving you in just your panties and bra, which are a matching cherry red.

he slips off his boxers, pooling at his ankles. his cock springs free, flushed tip dripping with precum, shaft throbbing, veiny, and thick. you lick your lips at the sight.

you climb over him, hovering above him, lips inches from his.

"now, chris. what made you think you could be begging me all day to fuck you? whinin' in my ear like a fuckin slut." you grumble.

he looks away with flushed cheeks, his eyes full of shame. you grab his chin, forcing him to look at you again.

"i'm sorry!" he splutters, avoiding eye contact. "i've just.. been so hard for you all day i.. i need you mama."

"so what is it that you want, chris?" you coo, biting back a mischievous grin.

"i- i want you to.. to make me cum. please. i'm.. it hurts ma. i'm so hard i need.. i need help." he pants.

"be careful what you wish for." you say with a grin, pressing your lips to his before crawling back down his body.

you stop once your mouth is level with his standing dick. you smile, getting on your knees between his already spread legs.

you wrap your hand around his base, kissing his tip with purposeful pressure. his head throws back.

"nnngghh-" he whimpers out. you grin, latching your lips around his pretty pink tip, never once looking away from his bright red face.

your tongue swirls clean and precise circles over his leaking tip, the beads of precum leaving a salty and enjoyable taste behind.

he's gasping for air, stomach already heaving, white-knuckling his bed sheets. he's biting his lip so hard you think it might bleed, trying desperately not to make a sound, since his brothers are home.

you pull off and his grip loosens on the sheets, stomach muscles relaxing. he looks back down at you with furrowed eyebrows. "why.. why'd you stop?"

you smile. "don't worry sweetheart. gimme just a sec." you coo. "just cover your eyes for me, baby."

he does just that, breath shaky. you open your nightstand drawer, pulling out a vibrator.

"keep your eyes shut honey." you coo. you carefully climb between his legs and to his standing dick, very carefully switching it onto the lowest setting, praying he doesn't hear it.

when he has no reaction, you press the round end of the vibrator to his tip. he lets out a strangled moan, moving his hands from his eyes to grip the bed sheets.

"i didn't tell you you could uncover your eyes, did i?" you whisper into his ear. his eyes are screwed shut from pleasure anyway, but he's still disobeying you.

"cover your eyes like i told you to. and don't move them unless i say." and with that, you turn the vibrator up to the highest setting, grab his base, and press it to his tip.

he lets out strangled moans, kicking his feet, curling his toes. his stomach caves in like a juice box that a little kid ran dry.

you can tell it's too much, but he never once complains. he doesn't trust his own voice right now. you swirl the vibrator around his head.

he gasps at the change in sensation. precum leaks down his buzzing shaft. suddenly, you get an idea. you turn the vibrator off, to which he whimpers and kicks his feet. you knew he was close.

you immediately drop down on him, taking him fully in your mouth. you swirl your tongue around him a few times, making him whimper and whine, eyes still covered.

you pull off just about an inch, switching on the vibrator. you hold it to the base of his cock, sending vibrations all throughout his dick.

you swallow around his now vibrating dick. he lets out uncontrollable whines, moans, whimpers and pleas. you continue to suck him off with the vibrator until he's rutting into your mouth.

once he's about to cum, you remove your mouth and vibrator. he cries out, whimpering. "n-no! wha-!? mama, please.. i- i was so good! i-" he begs.

"i know, baby. it's just not time for you to cum yet. you can open your eyes." he removes his hands from his face, revealing the tears of pleasure and frustration streaming out.

you grin. he looks pathetic. and that's exactly how you like him. you straddle him, hovering over him. you take his cock and pin it to his tummy, his underside facing you. you lick a stripe up his underside.

he lets out a gargled moan. you sit on his base, your lace covered cunt on top of the underside of his cock, pinning it to his tummy, tip sitting right above his belly button.

"wha.. w-what're you doin ma?" he asks timidly.

"whatever i want to. now sit back and feel." he nods. you start to grind your hips on him. he moans, eyes shutting and fingers gripping the sheets.

you run your hands all over his tummy. you've always loved his tummy. it's so fun to kiss, bite, suck, leave hickeys on.

you've also always loved that he doesn't have a literal six pack, the slight stomach pooch that he has makes you wet every time you look at it.

you start to rub circles over his tip. he ruts his hips up, this whole time letting out strangled whines and moans.

this goes on for a couple minutes before he screams suddenly. "m'gonna cum!" his eyes screw shut, back arching.

you begin to coo sweet nothings. "yeah? you gonna cum all over this pretty tummy of yours, your gonna cum all over yourself baby. yeahhhh, that's right." you hum softly, rubbing circles over his inflamed tip.

"nnnghh-!" and then he cums. his back arches as he cries out, his warm white seed shooting out all over his stomach. you drool at the sight, heat pooling in your core, wishing he'd came on your stomach instead.

"good boy.. look at you. all messy for me.. yeah.." you coo sweetly, still grinding on him, rubbing his tip.

"mmph- that's.. ma i'm done." he whispers, starting to get overstimulated. you grin.

"ohhh, baby. you thought you were done?" you chuckle, grabbing the vibrator.

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author's note: hey yall! i haven't made a fic in a while so im a bit rusty, but i hope you guys enjoyed! love yall sm! with love, bows, and sturniolos. 💗🎀

@whore4mattsturniolo @evie-sturns @rysturns @sweetshuga @sturnsvelocity @emely9274