#not for the first time i think but one of the more important ones and i had naybe thought the others
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kashverse · 1 day ago
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I LOVE U SO SO MUCH YOU ARE MY FAV WRITER YOUR WRITING IS JUST SOO UUUHHHGG ✨💕💕✨💕💕✨💓💗
can I request a teacher!nanami x teacher!reader? It would be fun to read em sneaking in between classes :DD
(TYSM FOR BEING ALIVE KUNAFAMILY IS EVERYTHING TO MEE 💕🥳✨)
something about nanami seeking out your company while trying to avoid his feelings......sighs dramatically
the first time nanami stepped into your classroom unannounced, the kids erupted into cheers as if a celebrity had just walked in. you, on the other hand, were a little more skeptical. “mr. nanami, to what do we owe the honor?” you asked, raising a brow. he cleared his throat, his face as neutral as ever, though the slight twitch of his fingers betrayed him. “there is an important matter that requires your attention.”
the children gasped. a mystery! a scandal! what could it be?
“oh?” you played along, crossing your arms. “what kind of matter?”
nanami glanced at the expectant faces staring up at him, then turned to you with a firm nod. “one that should be discussed in private.”
the kids oohed.
you rolled your eyes but gestured for him to step outside. the moment the door shut behind you both, you turned to him, arms still folded. “what’s so important that it can’t wait?” 
he hesitated. then, rather than speaking, he simply took your hand in his, giving it a small squeeze.
“…really?” you deadpanned.
“it was of utmost importance,” he said, completely serious. you stared at him, then sighed, trying not to smile. “you couldn’t just wait for break?”
“no,” he admitted. “also, i needed a marker.”
“oh, for your whiteboard?”
“no,” he said. “it was just a good excuse.”
the next time, it was you who made the excuse.
“mr. nanami’s class and our class will be having a combined lunch period today,” you announced to your students, who immediately cheered at the idea of eating with their friends from next door. “really?” nanami asked when you told him later, sitting beside you on one of the tiny chairs in the cafeteria. 
“really,” you said, popping a grape into your mouth. he looked at you, clearly unconvinced.
“this has nothing to do with us wanting to eat together?”
“why, mr. nanami, i am offended you would think so.”
he sighed, rubbing his temple. “you do realize i would’ve just joined you for lunch if you asked?”
you shrugged. “yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”
he shook his head, but you could see the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips as he unwrapped his sandwich. and if he saved you his extra cookie? well, that was just another matter of utmost importance.
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vettelsvee · 2 days ago
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letting oscar take your virginity to celebrate his win
(if this makes you uncomfortable please to deny or only write fluffy before/after!) love ur work sm
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V CARDS GOODBYES | Oscar Piastri
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Oscar Piastri x Girlfriend!Reader
SUMMARY: Oscar arrives home after winning his first ever Formula 1 race, so you think it’s the perfect time for you to celebrate and, also, to say goodbye to your v card ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Hope you like it anon! And sorry it's taken me almost a year I'm a mess 😭
WORD COUNT: 3958
WARNINGS: Smut (virginity loss, female receiving oral sex, fingering, p in v, protected sex, little bit of praising kink), curse words
VEE'S NOTES: Came to the conclusion after the latests Oscar fics I’ve posted that he's the most popular driver on my Tumblr page, so this is for all my Osc people out there! I'm always ashamed of posting smut (but still want to keep writing it) so I hope this is good enough for you to enjoy! Remember that your comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! Thanks for reading <3 (Also, thoughts on the new layout?) ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST
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© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!
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The door of the apartment you shared in Monaco opened, and before Oscar could step inside, he heard excited screams that made it clear someone was more than happy about his arrival.  
Not only did your cat start rubbing against his leg while purring, but also you, his girlfriend, were hopping towards him, barefoot and wrapped in one of his McLaren hoodies, which turned out to be even bigger on you than you had expected when you decided it would be a great idea to steal it from your boyfriend.  
"You did it, Osc!” you squealed as you threw your arms around his neck. "Osc, oh my God, you won a race! Do you know what that means?"  
Oscar felt his cheeks turn red. Of course, he knew exactly what winning a Grand Prix meant, especially during his second season in Formula 1. However, all he did was shrug, as if his achievement wasn’t that important.  
"Yeah," was all he could say.  
"I’m so, so proud of you," you said in a trembling voice, standing on your tiptoes to cup his face in your hands.  
"I couldn’t have done it without you, even though you were here," Oscar replied sincerely, a hint of regret in his tone. If there was one thing he regretted, it was that you hadn’t been there with him throughout the whole process of stepping onto the podium.  
"I know you would have liked me to be there, and I would’ve loved that too," you replied, making a sad but funny face. "But it’s okay! I screamed at the TV a lot, so I guess I helped in some way… And I’m sure you’ll win more races and I’ll be there to see them all, so it’s not the end of the world!"
Oscar chuckled and pulled you close until there was no space between you. He allowed himself a few moments to hold onto you, gently running his fingers through your hair while you clung tightly to his shirt, pressing your face into his chest as if he might disappear at any second.  
"Hey… I have something for you."
Even though you whispered it, Oscar heard you perfectly. You bit your lip,. a telltale sign of nervousness he knew well, as you pulled away from him. Then, you quickly headed towards the living room, with the Australian following you, and grabbed a small book he had never seen before.  
Carefully, as if it were fragile, you handed it to your boyfriend.  
"Open it… I hope you like it!"
Oscar did as you asked. Gently, he opened what he soon realized was a photo album. It wasn’t just a collection of pictures of you from the past two years since you started dating. It was beautifully decorated. There were messages, and even reflections from your perspective about each memory you had built together.  
"I know it’s not a big deal, but since I was so bored with studying, I have to admit I procrastinated a bit and felt like doing some crafts, so… well, this was the result," you said hesitantly, as if you were confessing a crime, though a small smile crept onto your lips. "Maybe you were expecting something else, I don’t know, but I hope you like it. You could even take it with you whenever you have to travel, so you remember me and also add something else if you feel in the mood," you added softly.  
Oscar felt a lump in his throat, unsure of what to say. Although he was used to you being thoughtful, and he always tried to reciprocate, you somehow kept outdoing yourself.  
"Y/N, this is…" he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. More accurately, he didn’t know how to express them. "It’s incredible. Thank you so much."
You smiled and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, which, as you both expected, quickly turned into something more desperate, fueled by your hunger for each other.  
Oscar’s hands found your waist beneath the hoodie, his fingers tracing invisible lines along your skin, moving up and down, even toying with the clasp of your bra. The only thing you could do was keep kissing him, tugging at his hair lightly and pressing yourself against his thigh, seeking friction to ease the growing ache within you.  
Then, you suddenly pulled away, more abruptly than Oscar had expected. Your pupils were completely dilated, your lips swollen, and your hair a complete mess.  
"Oscar…" 
"Y/N…"
"I want to do it."
Your voice was barely a whisper. Oscar’s eyes widened, surprised because, even though he perfectly understood what you meant, hearing you say it out loud was an entirely different feeling.  
"Bebe…" 
"I really, really want to do it, Osc," you repeated, more as a confirmation to yourself than to him. "Yesterday, you lost your v-card in Formula 1 with your victory, so… I was thinking maybe I could lose mine too."  
Oscar had known from the very beginning of your relationship that you had never been physically involved with anyone beyond a couple of kisses and teasing. At first, you had been insecure about telling him, worried about feeling ashamed, but Oscar had always made sure you felt safe and comfortable, promising you would only take steps forward when you were truly ready.  
Today, your words made clear that you finally felt like that moment arrived, and that filled Oscar with happiness not because you were about to have sex, but because it meant you were finally comfortable enough with yourself to take that step.  
"Are you… sure?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. "You know we don’t have to rush anything… I don’t want you to feel like we have to do this just because, you know…" 
"I know, Osc, and I promise I wouldn’t be bringing this up if I weren’t sure," you reassured him, looking into his eyes as you ran your fingers over his hands. "I love you, and most importantly, I trust you. I’ve thought about this for a long time, and well… yeah."
"It’s just… I don’t want to mess anything up, Y/N. This is really important, and it should be perfect,” he confessed with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.  
You smiled, cupping his face and bringing him closer for a kiss.  
"It doesn’t have to be perfect as long as it’s with you, Osc.”
"Okay, but… if you change your mind at any point, you tell me," Oscar insisted. You laughed, rolling your eyes.  
"I promise, really."
Your lips met again, but this time much slower. Oscar took his time kissing you carefully, wanting to do everything right. He cradled your cheek with one hand to deepen the kiss, while the other wrapped around your back, guiding you gently toward the bedroom you shared.  
Once inside, he forced himself to stop and take a deep breath to avoid panicking, even though there was no reason to.  
You stood in front of him, looking at him with a mix of shyness and adoration that reminded him of your early days, when you just used to go out for coffee or to the movies back in high school.  
Oscar couldn’t help but look at you with an equally shy, yet utterly endearing, expression.  
"Tell me if you want me to stop, alright?"
"I will, yeah."  
You didn’t need to say anything else since kissing spoke for you. You took your time, enough for Oscar to make sure you felt completely comfortable, enough for you to overthink just a little more before deciding if you really wanted to continue…  
*"I love you, Oscar…" you murmured between kisses. You tugged at his shirt, helping him pull it off, running your hands over his bare chest as if you were seeing him for the first time.  
"I love you too, Y/N…" 
With nerves and hands shakier than he would have liked, almost as if he were the inexperienced one, he took hold of the hem of your hoodie and slowly lifted it over your head, leaving you in just your underwear.  
Oscar was surprised to see you in black lace lingerie instead of the usual shorts you wore around the house. He was about to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. You closed the distance between you, pressing your foreheads together before kissing him once again.  
Neither knew how long you were like this, but you both agreed that it had been long enough to discover that you needed more of each other.
Oscar ended up forcing himself to pull away from you and take a breath. A smile curved between his lips, which caused you, somewhat nervously, to giggle at the situation and hug him around the waist, pulling him closer to you while trying not to shove him away.
“Really, we don't have to do it if you don't want to, Y/N,” the McLaren driver insisted once again.
“I've been looking forward to doing this for a long time, and I've been mentally preparing for it for a while,” she told him, trying not to sound uneasy. “I trust you, Osc, and there's nothing for you to worry about.”
“So...?”
“I want you to make me yours, Oscar. Today, tomorrow or whenever and wherever you want,” you whispered in his ear as sensually as you could.
“Y/N…”
“Oscar: I just want you to fuck me.”
You felt your boyfriend tense up after those words that had caught even you off guard. Instinctively, you brought your hand to the noticeable bulge under Oscar's pants, but when you tried to reach for the button to unbutton them, he pushed your hands away lovingly.
“No, honey, none of that for now. Today is your day, so let me do the work and just enjoy yourself.”
Oscar, without another word, took you by the chin and kissed you again for the umpteenth time that day. Now, your lips moved at a slower speed. You guessed it was because you noticed how one of Oscar's hands began to massage one of your breasts, giving special attention to the nipple. With the other, he lightly brushed your pussy, making you gasp when he decided to play with your clit.
“Do you like it, babe?” he asked in a tone of voice that showed too much excitement.
His fingers now delved a little deeper into your intimacy, those enveloping movements becoming a little faster.
“Yes, Osc...” you barely managed to answer.
That answer was enough for the Australian to stop immediately. You didn't even look him in the face. Oscar pulled away from you, leaving a quick kiss on your lips and starting a trail of kisses all over your body, stopping once he reached your lower stomach area.
“Y/N…”
His hands stood delicately on your thighs, which he was now kissing, closer and closer to your pussy. Your hair stood on end. Your breath was completely held, unable to breathe in case that put an end to it all, as if that would be enough for Oscar to finish whatever he was doing with you. 
“If anything we do tonight makes you uncomfortable and you want to stop, just tell me please,” the Australian declared. “And, before your little head starts thinking nonsense: no, I'm not going to get mad at you because you don't want to have sex, okay? If you don't want to…”
“Oscar, look at me,” you cut him off, and the boy immediately listened to you: “it's you, and I'm not going to feel uncomfortable with you and with anything you do to me.”
“Do you promise me, love?”
“I swear.”
Oscar nodded, grabbing your thighs again and dragging you to the edge of the bed so that his face was in front of your pussy, perfectly aligned with your entrance.
Without warning, he slid his tongue, flat, all over it with a slowness that was completely unbearable and that seemed that, rather than pleasing you, he wanted to kill you little by little. His movements were frantic; constant changes of speed, from faster to slower, and vice versa, that made his nose rub against your clit while his tongue seemed to do wonders with that dance.
When Oscar's tongue began to explore inside you, and his index finger, the one he used to show on camera every time he got a first position just like Sebastian Vettel did in his golden age, started a tortuous tour of your labia majora, you curled up shyly but instinctively. Your hands ended up tangled in his hair, forcing him closer to you at the same time your hips did the same.
“I think you're liking it, aren't you my little girl?” Piastri said, ending his oral contact with you and replacing it with his finger. His gaze was fixed on her, and you thought about why he hadn't done this to you before.
“Don't stop, Osc. For the sake of God, don't even think about stopping...” you gasped, becoming increasingly unable to articulate a word.
He didn't have to say anything else. After those words, Oscar slipped a second finger inside you. You let out a small gasp of surprise and he, without taking his eyes off you, laughed, your cheeks turning red almost instantly. Despite this, he kissed your thighs as he continued the back and forth with his index finger, adding his heart almost soon after while increasing even more the speed.
You felt that everything was going too fast, and the waves of pleasure that were flooding you were making you lose, more and more, the notion of time. You didn't know at what point, but when he decided to add his tongue back into the equation, without leaving the movements of his fingers inside you going straight to that spot that gave you the most pleasure, a strange sensation gripped the lower part of your stomach.
It was getting harder and harder for you to hold back your orgasm. You felt how your eyes were closing little by little, and your leg, too, to which Oscar put a little pressure on them to prevent them from closing.
“Come for me, love,” Oscar let you know. “Come on, Y/N, you've got it babe. Come on…”
And so you did.
Your back curved in such a way that your body, completely sweaty, could hardly keep on writhing as it was doing. You were moaning like you had never moaned before, and your boyfriend seemed to notice. A smirk of satisfaction and success began to break from his lips as he licked at your fluids, his mouth moving slowly now, over-stimulating your clit and making you incessantly.
The Australian rose and carefully positioned himself on top of you.
“I love you, Y/N, you don't know how much,” he said between kisses, making you taste yourself for the first time, but hopefully not the last one. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world... And the best girl in the world. Don't ever doubt it.”
“Oscar, don't…”
“Yes you are, Y/N, and I will not allow you to speak so negatively about yourself.”
After those last words, the driver pulled away from you slightly, trying yo give you some time to recover. Then, you looked at him taking what seemed to be a condom from the bedside table, which he carefully put on and immediately positioned at your entrance. 
You swallowed, while Oscar tried not to think about whether he was really going too fast.
·I don't want to sound weird, but... please, if you want me to stop, just tell me,” Oscar spoke as best he could, trying not to succumb to the nerves he felt about taking this important step with you. “I want you to be pretty sure about this since… Well, since there’s not going back…”
You said nothing. Instead, you gave him a slight nod with your head, still looking at him, which was enough for Oscar to enter you carefully, but without a previous warning.
He decided to stand for a while so you could get used to his length. You felt a little pain. You held back a scream, bit your lips and closed your eyes to do your best to make that feeling go away as soon as possible.
“Y/N…”
“Go on, Oscar. It's all right…”
The boy nodded, and finished entering you with the same care. Little by little, his movements gained speed. You arched your back, moaning incessantly as she started feeling more comfortable with the depth of penetration, and Oscar hitting her in a spot that made her feel a pleasure that you feel in a way you didn’t know how to describe, but that felt good enough to make you never want that sex session to end.
“Does it feel good, honey? Are you enjoying my... cock... for the first time?” Oscar moaned, biting her neck. “Look at you… so desperate for me to keep fucking you…”
“Fuck, Oscar... this is a fantasy,” you gasped. “And you talking so... like… like this... God... Don't stop, please…”
“Never for you, sweetheart.”
Your moans became one, a melody that your neighbors were probably listening to but you didnt give a fuck. Your gazes could hardly be averted, and your words, getting dirtier and dirtier as much as your were embarrassed at first, were sounding louder and louder, as were your pleas.
“Oscar!” you shrieked as you felt Oscar's fingers press against you nervous bundle.”
“Love...” he moaned through his teeth. ”Don't stop moaning my name, please. You don't know how you're making me feel right now.
·And of course I'm going to make you feel so much better when we do this again,” you replied, choking with pleasure. As best you could, you sat up a little and wrapped you arms around you boyfriend's neck. “I want to do it again, Osc,” you made it clear. “I want us to do this every time we get the chance....”
You kept moaning his name, giving him promises you knew he would never break. He kept reassuring you and how good you were doing, speeding up his movements as he couldn’t stop playing with your clit, all of that while he kept telling you that you were his.
You couldn't contain it anymore for the second time that day.
“Fuck, Osc,” he stammered. “I think I'm gonna…”
“Let yourself go, honey,” the brown-haired said. “You can do it, love. Cum for me.”
Your orgasm came before you could say anything else. Oscar came within seconds of you, and as soon as he did he ended, he gave you a short kiss on the lips as he carefully pulled out of heyour and collapsed beside you. 
Oscar's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. You rested your head on his shoulder, trying to regain your composure with increasingly slower breaths. 
“You ok babe?” Oscar murmured after a few minutes.
“Yes,” you whispered, nodding your head with a smile peeking out. “Better than ever, actually.”
It was then that it dawned on Oscar. Quickly, he sat up a little and saw what was under where you were still positioned. His heart began to race, and a pressure settled in his chest as he realized the light blue bed sheets were stained slightly with blood as was his condom, still on him and which he hadn't paid attention to because he just wanted to be with you cuddling after he'd made you lose your virginity.
“Hey, listen, love…” he started to say in a calm, but concerned tone.
You followed his gaze, and couldn't help but blush and die of embarrassment inside.
“Oh...” you spoke quietly, instinctively covering yourself with the sheets. “This... is normal. Well, I guess so…”
“Does it hurt? Are you hurt?”
You shook your head, denying it, though the look on your face seemed to say otherwise.
“Well… It's just a little... just a little sore. But it's fine, really. It happens when you have sex for the first time with someone.”
Oscar studied your face, and he knew you wanted to stop this conversation. You wanted to let it go and pretend everything was fine so you wouldn't give him any sign that you hadn't liked it, even though your moans and pleas seemed to say otherwise.
“Still, you shouldn't let it go.”
The Australian approached you and gave you a shy kiss on the forehead. Then he got out of bed, still naked.
·Where are you going?” you asked in a voice mixed with curiosity and nervousness.
“I'm going to get a towel with hot water to clean you up.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already heading towards the bathroom while taking off his condom. As you heard the faucet turn on, and your boyfriend getting everything ready, you couldn't help but feel bad because, maybe, Oscar deserved better, and your behavior, what was happening to you now, was not what he deserved.
You forced yourself to stop overthinking because if there’s one thing you knew for sure is that Oscar loved you, more than sometimes you were conscious of.
Your boyfriend came back a few minutes later, and found you sitting on the bed, curled up on yourself and clinging to the sheets while still covering with them, as if you were afraid.
“You don't have to…”
“I know,” Oscar cut you off, offering you a small smile, “but I want to. So, please, just let me take care of you.”
Your eyes softened at his proposal, and you forced yourself to calm down as Oscar, with his gaze and his hands coyly on your thighs, asked your permission to spread your legs. You nodded, and he carefully ran the wet towel and hot water over your pussy, giving it little touches because he didn't want to risk it stinging or hurting any more because he really didn't know exactly how the female body worked after losing your virginity.
When he finished, he kissed her knee and sat down next to her again, also covering himself with the sheets so he could hug her and, more than anything else, try to reassure her and make her feel as good as possible.
“There, that's it, all settled. Now, let's stay here and rest.”
“Was it good?”
Oscar let out a small laugh from his mouth at your sudden question as he leaned over to you and snuggled into your shoulder. 
”You've been amazing, love,” he replied, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Now you were both lying on your bed, looking at each other. “Are you okay now that… Did I hurt you? I need you to be honest with me... I should have asked you if you liked the pace I decided to take because, well, I’m not going to lie to you, I think I could have gone a little slower...”
You shook your head and didn't give him a chance to keep talking. Instead, you grabbed his face and pressed your lips to his.
“You don't have to worry about anything, Osc. It was far from perfect. So, from now on, I hope you win more races because from today on, winning sex has become a tradition that I hope we keep for a long time.”
Oscar laughed, knowing you were completely serious.
“We can make a tradition of this and anything else you want, love,” he buried his face in yours, and began to tickle your waist gently. “We can even have several rounds if you want, so… thoughts on that? Should we keep ready for a second round today?”
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starshinedreamer · 3 days ago
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Alrighty y'all, grab a chair and get comfy whilst I yap about my son, my pride and joy, the greatest thing to ever happen to me, my D&D OC: Raymond Foxwood. He is a Wood Elf Druid with the Researcher background and a Neutral-Good alignment (Images at the very end).
I haven't figured out what his voice sounds like yet. I'm thinking he may kind of have an accent? But like it's barely there. I do have an idea for a possible Japanese voice claim: Souta from the movie Suzume.
His best friend? I guess it would be my friend's D&D character. Her name is Topaz and she is a Dragonborne. Not besties, but pretty close.
Ooooooo boy, I got a whole playlist my friend and I have been cooking up for this sad little fella. Here's a couple of them that I think describes him best:
-"The Moss" by Cosmo Sheldrake
-"Rom-Com Gone Wrong" by Matt Maltese
-"When She Loved Me" by Sarah McLachlan
-"Home" by Cavetown
-"Valentine" by Laufey
-"Love Like You" by Rebecca Sugar
He's like, dealing with a heavy breakup until "Valentine" when he meets his current partner :)
4. "I do Adore" by Mindy Gledhill
5. Nope! But I actually thought about it when I was first creating his character just to see how he would act with other dynamics.
6. A scientist. More specifically, an ecologist. He loves nature and learning about all there is to know about life and the world. He also likes finding ways to help others, so maybe even a pharmacologist?
8. Writing, researching, reading, gardening, and making little insect and animal models because he is a NERD™ /lh<3
9. He generally takes good care of his physical health. Although, his flaw is "Most people scream when they see a demon. I stop and take notes on its anatomy," soooo. "For science" he says. "It's for the greater good" he says.
10. Well he's trying his best. But sometimes anxiety just surprises you and all of the sudden you're spiraling and things seem much worse than they are and pfffft whaddya meeeeaaaan I'm sorta self projecting? But he is the kind of person who feels bad about asking for help and then sort of holds it all in.
11. Inspirations were taken Link from The Legend of Zelda series (mainly BOTW) and Howl from Howl's Moving Castle for his design. Everything else was based purely on my own self indulgences for a nerdy elf character (and the songs my friend keeps sending my for him).
12. Same response as question 2 :)
13. No not really, but he is fighting against an organization that keeps threatening and trying to burn down the library he works/lives in with the librarian: Amanita (Ama, Anita, or Nita for short). Amanita is the person who raised and took care of Raymond after his family died in a fire. A fire caused by the same organization who's trying to harm them now. This is his main reason for joining a campaign; to get stronger and protect his loved ones.
14. This one flippin poison dragon we fought. Or maybe that's just me because I really didn't want to let them leave alive. I don't think Raymond necessarily hates anyone.
15. That all honestly depends on how the rest this campaign will play out. My friend has told me that they all did die a couple times, and we almost died to the STINKIN DRAGON but that's not important right now. But L O R E wise, he'd probably still do his researcher stuff until he's really old. Then he'll write books and share his stories :)
16. If they were alive, then I could see him having a great relationship with his parents since they were also big nerds like him. His relationship with Amanita is also great, and he really wants to protect her since she has done so much for him.
17. YESSSSSS! He loves sharing his knowledge with others and would do such a great job teaching kids. Ohhhh this is such a good one, yes he would feel bad if he had to leave them.
18. He/Him :>
19. Biromantic Asexual. His love language in giving is Acts of Service, and Quality Time for both giving and receiving.
20. A longbow and rocks. He has a cantrip spell called "Magic Stone" which lets me make a ranged attack by throwing small pebbles or stones. I like to call this spell the "RAYMOND, STONE 'EM" spell because its funnnnyyyy.
21. hmmmmmmmmmm Actually, I'm not sure! I guess maybe "Nothing You Can Take From Me" from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.
22. Will generally go for the non-violent option (more of a lover), but if initiatives are rolling, he'll fight.
23. Extremely. He'll show up with a new tire to fix the flat one, and an extra one for any future situations.
24. Undecided
25. Not singing out loud, but he would definitely hum to himself! :)
26. Irises, forget-me-nots, and bluebells
27. Symbolism wise, a deer. 'Just because' wise, a rabbit, a fox, and a kitty cat :3
28. The Nerds™ (found at the end of this post:) ).
29. Cozy stuff, lo-fi, books, plants, leather notebooks, and an overall sort of cottage core mixed with academia aesthetic. (Mood Board made in Canva :>)
30. Accepts this as their new life(yippee!). They have now been adopted. Will try to find a way to bring up their interests in conversations.
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Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List
1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?
2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?
3) What song describes your OC?
4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?
5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?
6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?
7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?
8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?
9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?
10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?
11) What was your inspiration for your OC?
12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?
13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?
14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!
15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?
16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?
17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?
18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?
19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?
20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?
21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?
22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?
23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?
24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?
25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?
26) What flower do you associate your OC with?
27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?
28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)
29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)
30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)
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kisssukuna33 · 2 days ago
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Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always have you over at his house the night before an important match. It helps with the stress he says.
Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always put on a TV show before you two settle into the couch for cuddles. Usually the cuddling session is a mix of him relaxing against you as you ask him questions about the match tomorrow.
"You packed an extra pair of shorts this time right? Remember what happened last time"
"yeah I did"
"Did you iron the clothes?"
"Uraume took care of it"
"That new protein shake your nutritionist recommend, Did you take it?"
"Already did"
"What about the snacks during the game tomorrow? did Uraume-
"oh my god baby relax, it's all taken care of"
He says in somewhat of an annoyed tone as he pulls you even closer to his chest, tightening his grip around you. But deep down he loves it when you are concerned about him like this.
Boxerbf Sukuna! Who insists that having a good time before the match tomorrow isn't a problem to him but you reject the offer firmly because you know how Sukuna gets whenever you two started something.
It always ends up dragging for hours so no, your bf needs his beauty sleep for tomorrow.
Boxerbf Sukuna! Who pouts slightly when you say no to him but decides to settle with the short make out session instead, better than nothing he thinks.
Boxerbf Sukuna! Who teasingly steals few touches from your sensitive areas, clearly trying to rile you up but stops after seeing the glare you gave him.
Boxerbf Sukuna! Who never seems to be the type to get much nervous before matches. Because of his Overconfidence? His never ending Ego? maybe. But his ability to stand strong in situations like this always makes your heart flutter.
Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always makes sure you get the best VIP seat to his match, You always need to be in the front lines where he can see you from clearly when he beat up his opponent back to his ancestors.
Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always find a way to bring you up in the Media press. Sukuna is widely known by the audience for being a down bad "simp" for his girlfriend as well as a complete disaster for his opponents.
"Mr Ryomen, Do you know there's a whole talk in the internet about you being a simp for your girlfriend? What do you have to say to people who spread things like that?"
"Keep spreading the truth I guess. The internet definitely needs it more"
Boxerbf Sukuna! Who hurries back to his changing room and jumps straight into your arms. Despite your constant nagging for him to get patched up first.
"Baby did you saw the jab-cross I threw before he hit the ground?"
"Yeah it was Amazing Ryo!"
"I did good than the last match, didn't I?"
"Yeah you always do"
"Then I deserve way more than that cheap kiss you gave me earlier don't I?"
"Get patched up first you freak, Uraume's waiting"
Boxerbf Sukuna! Who lets you both into his house as he holds your waist with one arm. He let go of your waist as he makes his way for the bathroom while murmuring something about showering first.
As he started to shower you turn on the tv with the intention of seeing the live match you saw today in the digital screen. And it immediately cuts to a interview Sukuna did just right after winning.
Boxerbf Sukuna! Who seems enthusiastic as ever talking to the reporters about the match he did and the opponent he beat. Not long after he adds a little appreciation from his part.
"My manager Uraume helped me with a lot of stuff so I truly appreciate them. Also my girlfriend stayed up beside me every night when I practiced and supported me in everything, this win is hers as much as it is mine."
"if you're watching this I love you baby"
A warm feeling start to take over your chest as you hear his words. The man who's appreciated and idolized by millions saying these things so casually to you, you still can't get your mind around it.
Then the reporter use his luck to ask a risky question one more time.
"it's look like you two have a great relationship together, what do you think about marriage Mr Ryomen?"
To that question Sukuna doesn't respond but instead returns a well knowing little grin as he waves off the interview.
"Tch why did they ruin the moment by asking that, now it looks like he doesn't want to marry me" you said to yourself.
Just as you were about to leave to the kitchen to grab a snack, something shining inside the closet that Sukuna forgot to shut earlier catches your eyes.
Hidden by the cloth piles it was a little jewelry box that had familiar initials on top of it.
It was none other than yours and Sukuna's.
Wait..
No that can't be, Yeah maybe this is the earrings he wanted to give you before.
But much to your surprise the box opened up to reveal a gorgeous wedding ring. A big diamond you sure costed atleast 5 six figures alone sitting on top of it. Inside the ring you and Sukuna's initials were carved into it making it seem even more special to your eyes.
Your heart is jumping from excitement and happiness, everything about your life is starting to get better and better and you can't help but thank Sukuna for it.
You don't want to ruin the surprise he planned for you of course. So you put the box back to it's place and sit on the bed till he's done showering patiently but the stupid smile you had since earlier didn't left your face for once.
"Alright I'm done showering let's slee- what's with you?"
"What's with me? nothing Ryo"
"You're are smiling very creepily woman"
"Ryo that's mean! My smile is not creepy!"
"Yeah whatever come here, freak"
Sukuna says as he drags you closer to his side of the bed while turning off the bedside lamp at the same time. Your bodies intertwine with each other like it was always meant to be. Sukuna's hands wrapping around you as he buries his face into your neck.
"Ryo?"
"hmm"
"I love you"
You can feel a small smile tugging at his lips.
"I love you too princess, more than anything"
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Boxing Kuna is my favorite <33
No grammar checks though sorry :/
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tangerineastronaut · 2 days ago
Note
can you do a yunho reader thigh riding where shes his gf
Missed You | j.yunho
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Pairing: Idol!Yunho x Nonceleb!Reader Genre: Smut/Fluff (MDNI) - mostly smut, very little fluff but still a main theme. Requested: Yes w.c. 3.5k Warnings: Thigh riding, established relationship, praise, slight degradation (nothing in a hateful way), size kink if you squint, namecalling, pet names, humping, I think that's it? If you notice any potentially triggering content not listed here please let me know. A/N: Hello lovelies ~ it feels so good to be back. I haven't written in a while but after browsing some of the amazing fanfic writers here it really made me miss it. Thank you to anon for my very first request! Also, this is poorly edited so please don't mind any errors. I will likely edit it in the future if I find any. Please excuse my rusty skills as well, I promise I'll get better! Requests: Open ~ please see the guidelines for requesting here.
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5 months. 
For 5 months, your gorgeous golden retriever boyfriend had been gone on tour, and you were expected to endure a meal with him and the members. They’d landed just hours ago and were no doubt exhausted, but Yunho looked as unfairly beautiful as ever. There were shadows under his eyes and he definitely seemed to be craving home, but the moment he’d spotted you when you walked into the restaurant…god. His tongue had slid over his lower lip, likely thinking about the way you taste, long fingers raking down his pants as if to stop the tingling spreading through him. He was wearing casual clothes, just a hoodie and a pair of jeans, but nothing could hide the art of his figure. Tall and lean, toned where it counts. His broad shoulders, his chest and stomach that you loved peppering with kisses. And those thighs. 
You’d never really considered how sexy a man’s thighs were until you’d met Jeong Yunho. Muscular and thick, perfect for sitting on when he was in the mood to game for hours. Fine with you—was there anything more fun than teasing your lanky gamer boyfriend in the middle of a match? Squirming in his lap, making him fumble the controller and lose until you were bent in half, said boyfriend sinking into you?
Dinner. 
Dinner dinner dinner. 
You were proud of the boys and knew this was important, so despite wanting to jump his bones, you kept yourself in check and listened to the bickering between Woo and Jongho, beginning to wonder if Seonghwa had opted to dye his hair white to hide the grey caused by his children. 
You were about to scold them yourself to give the poor Captain and His Wife™ a break, but a warm hand sliding up your thigh made the words die in your throat in an embarrassingly high pitched sound. You coughed to cover it up—thank god for Woo as no one was paying attention to you—and glanced up at Yunho.
“I missed you baby,” he hummed, low enough that only you could hear. His pretty lips formed a smirk that wasn’t as sweet as his words. You smiled up at him, placing your smaller hand on top of his and squeezing, silently begging him to leave you the fuck alone before you drag him to the bathroom. 
“Missed you too,” you reply, making a visible effort to turn back to the conversation you weren’t part of. 
You’d hoped he was just being coy, teasing you a bit, but he apparently wasn’t satisfied with your reaction as his hand slipped inward. He wasn’t far above your knee, but it didn’t matter, making you clamp your legs together and grip his wrist beneath the table. The smug bastard smiled, hiding it in his glass as he took a sip of water. 
It was irritating, the mere fact that his large hand spanned much of your upper leg making you squirm. It was far too easy for him to rile you up, while he managed to maintain composure most of the time. You bit the inside of your cheek and released his wrist, your own hand moving to his lap. Yunho stiffened a bit, but that was it. You spread your fingers over his thigh, squeezing once before gently moving your hand side to side. 
When he turned to San and casually asked about next week’s practice schedule, it felt like a slap to the face. 
You’ve been dating for 3 years. You’ve fucked countless times on many, many surfaces. But when your fingers slid toward his crotch and found his cock already fully erect, you tore your hand away as though it had burned you. The bickering had died down, so to hide the flush on your face you took a sip of water. Yunho hadn’t even flinched, still conversing, unbothered, and wearing that cocky little grin. 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
You almost felt guilty about the buzz you felt as everyone began to say goodbye, promising to rest before work started up again next week. You could’ve sworn Yunho was purposefully talkative tonight, as you knew damn well he didn’t care whether or not Yeosang’s apartment had more than one elevator. By the time he was willing to humor you, you were all but vibrating next to the company’s black SUV, the driver waiting much more patiently than you. 
Yunho had the audacity to ask if you were ready to go, his warm hand sliding over the small of your back. You nodded so quickly you were almost dizzy. 
The SUV was quite tall, and you were…quite not. So when he opened the door for you, you prepared to climb inside ungracefully, but your boyfriend placed both hands on your hips and lifted you into the vehicle. You had no time to react, as he was climbing in after you. You prepared to shuffle across the seat to give him space, but he easily caught your wrist and yanked you across his lap. One hand gathered both of your wrists, the other resting calmly over your ass. You both glanced over at the same time to make sure the divider was closed. 
“Someone’s horny,” he chuckled warmly, the hand on your ass moving in a slow circle. You frowned, tugging your wrists out of his grasp so you could sit up. Your hands found his shoulders and you swung a leg over his waist, straddling him but not letting your full weight rest against his cock just yet. 
“Jeong fucking Yunho—I have been waiting 5 months for you and not just so you can grope me in a restaurant,” you grumble, fisting his hoodie. 
“Technically speaking, all I did was touch your thigh. You, however, grabbed my—”
You shut him up with a kiss, mushing your mouth against his so hard you could feel your teeth pressing the inside of your lips. Yunho’s large hands found your waist, squeezing, trying to pull you down against his aching groin. You resist by using your knees, the grunt of irritation escaping him making you laugh.
“What’s funny?” Yunho asked, sucking your lower lip between his teeth. The shock made you gasp, and he used the opportunity to buck off of the seat of the car, hips meeting the plush underside of your ass. 
Unwilling to let him win whatever the hell this was, you moved a knee between you, coming dangerously close to his clothed cock. 
“Nothing, just my desperate boy acting like a dog,” you hum breathlessly. “All worked up, trying to call me out as the slut here.”
“You fucking—” Yunho grumbled. He wrapped both arms around you, crushing you against his chest and leaving you no choice but to straddle him again. This time, he hugged you tight; you could hardly breathe as he rutted against you so hard that it made you squeak. 
You wanted to do more than pitifully submit, but you thanked the gods you’d decided to wear a dress, as each dry thrust pushed his cock right against your clothed clit. It was shameful how needy you felt, already able to feel a second heartbeat between your legs, the familiar ache as your cunt woke up from its 5 month hibernation.
“Thought about you every night,” Yunho groaned, his breath coming out in pants as he did all he could to create friction between your bodies. “You have no idea, baby. ‘m gonna fuck you until we pass out.”
“Yeah?” you manage to weakly spit out, your fingers curling into the material of his hoodie. You knew you should do more, give more, but your head was spinning, mouth dry from moments of contact after so long. 
“Yeah. You’re gonna make those sounds for me, just like you did over the phone. Want you to say my name,” he says, his head falling back against the seat. “Fucking pillows…nothing looks as pretty as you.”
“P-Pillows?” you mumble, pulling back enough to look at him, his hips still working against your body. He licks his lips, eyes squinted as he looks over your face, nodding. 
“Mm.”
“You…you fucked a pillow?”
“Mhm. ‘s soft and I can hold it down just like you, pretend it’s my girl taking me so good,” he rambles, not an ounce of shame in his tone. 
Fuck. 
You’d used fingers and toys, nothing doing what he could do for you. You assumed he used his hand—knew it, actually, based on the sparse dirty phone calls you’d managed to have. But the idea of Yunho, your gigantic boyfriend, desperately fucking against a pillow because it reminds him of you…it did something to you, woke something up that you were not proud of. You wanted to see it. 
“Gonna hurt you…”
“H-huh?” you stammer, your cheeks flushing red despite your current state as you were caught daydreaming about Yunho and the poor pillow.
“It’s gonna hurt, baby. Need you wet,” he breathes. He reaches his hand between you, catching you off guard as he swipes beneath your panties, rubbing the sticky wetness of your cunt. You let out a broken moan, your hole clenching around nothing like muscle memory as you think of those long fingers pumping into you. 
“I’m wet Yuyu,” you say, silently praying he gives you something, even just a finger to the first knuckle. But Yunho shakes his head, hands settled on your hips. 
“Not enough…I’m telling you it’s going to hurt. Need you to cum first.”
“When we get home—”
“Now, y/n,” he says. His voice isn’t mean, not even commanding like it can be, but it still sends a shiver down your spine. 
“O-Okay,” you mumble shyly, glancing back as if the driver might decide to open the divider. He didn’t, probably knowing better. “Use your fingers.”
“No,” Yunho mumbles. He easily manipulates your body until you’re perched atop one thigh. “Like this. Love it when you ride me.”
You exhale, situating yourself until your cunt is pressed against his jeans. Your hands tighten their grip on his shoulders, and you meet his eyes as you begin to move, grinding against his leg. Yunho’s mouth opens, a gasped curse leaving his mouth as you lick your lips. 
“Faster baby,” he murmurs, eyes trailing over you as you rut against him, “want you desperate. Want you to whine.”
“Fuck,” you say to no one, rolling your hips forward. Yunho grips the seat on either side of you both, fingers twitching like he wants to grab you and move you himself. But he just watches, licking his lips and nodding as you drive yourself to the edge on his thigh. 
You feel him flex, the hardened muscle beneath you offering a firmness that makes you shudder. There’s a hotness between your legs as your juices coat his thigh, creating a wet patch on his jeans. After so many months, you’re sensitive, but unfamiliar with the movement as you struggle to hit the mark. 
You falter, pausing to catch your breath. 
“Don’t stop, baby,” Yunho says, his voice almost a whine. Your head falls forward on his shoulder, shame making your face warm. 
“It’s been a while,” you mumble. “Sorry, yu.”
“Want me to help? Hm? Need me to make you feel good?” he whispers, lips catching your cheek. You nod weakly, fisting his hoodie again as his warm hands move to your waist, squeezing once before he begins to move you. Your body is like putty to him, and he grinds you down against his thigh like a doll. 
“How’s that feel?” he asks, burying his face against your hair. You nod, unable to say much. He does it just right, somehow knowing your body better than you do.
Yunho reaches between you, hooking his thumb into the front of your panties and tugging them to the side. You gasp as your bare clit makes contact with his jeans, able to feel just how much you’d soaked through them. The thought makes you buck against him, catching the friction yourself with a choked gasp. 
“That’s it, baby,” Yunho says, one hand going back to the seat while the other keeps your panties pulled to the side. “Like that. Let me see you use me to make that pretty cunt wet.”
“Fuck, Yunho,” you whimper, your hips beginning to move in a steady rhythm. He hums in approval, biting his lower lip hard as he watches you carefully. You groan and wrap both arms around his shoulders, squeezing your eyes closed as you grind hard against his thigh. The scent of his cologne is stronger now that he’s sweating, the smell making you dizzy and needy. You lower your head to his throat and kiss him there, tasting the saltiness of his skin while your tongue leaves a wet trail.
“There she is,” he murmurs, tilting his head to the side. You whimper and mouth at his skin, nipping and sucking as you work yourself to destruction on him. He groans as you latch onto his pulse point, using his free hand to grip your hair and pull you off of him.
“Be good,” he chuckles softly. You bite your lower lip, eyes wide and brows tight, hands moving up to scratch gently at the nape of his neck. 
All it takes is a few seconds of you staring at him like that, still rutting helplessly against his thigh, needing to mark him up. Yunho sighs and leans back to get his hands between you, grabbing both his hoodie and shirt and tugging them over his head. His chest and stomach are revealed, your hands immediately palming at his skin. He nods and runs his thumb over your lower lip. 
“Go ahead baby,” he hums. “Nothing above my collar bones, yeah?”
You nod obediently and kiss him softly, his lips plush and warm as always. You want to cry at the sensation of coming home, despite the fact that you were currently humping your hot boyfriend’s thigh during the longest car ride to your apartment ever. 
You go for his shoulders first, you bite down and get your hips back into rhythm, relishing in his hiss of pain. Your teeth leave marks as you let go, breath hot against his skin. 
Your nails leave half moon crescents as they work with your teeth, leaving a trail of love bites over the expanse of his chest. You’ve momentarily forgotten the goal here, though Yunho has no trouble reminding you. When you go in to kiss him again, he catches a fistful of your hair once more. 
“You don’t want my cock going in like this,” he murmurs, free hand gently smacking your thigh. “Running out of time, babygirl.”
“I’m wet, Yunho,” you whine, bouncing in irritation. “Jus’ wanna kiss you. I can take it.”
Yunho stares at you for a few seconds, eyes trailing over your form where you’ve paused your movement. 
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” you huff, rolling your eyes. Since when can you not take his cock? He was huge, sure, but it’s not like you’ll break. 
“How much?”
“What?”
“How much?” he repeats, his hand slipping between you again. You try not to react as his thumb goes beneath your sticky panties, easily sliding over your swollen clit. 
“All of it,” you scoff, unsure of what he was saying. Yunho smiles. 
“No, I mean how much? How long can you take it? I’m not gonna stop, baby,” he says roughly. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Gonna fuck you until you can’t move…still gonna fuck you until you ask me to stop.”
You pause at this, licking your lips and jolting at the heat sprouting from between your thighs. 
“I-I can take it still,” you mumble, grinding down against his hand. He moves it, tugging your panties again, the cooled wetness of his jeans making you shiver. 
“I’m gonna take my fill, baby,” he says, watching you move against his thigh. “Been practicing. Edging myself for months. Gotta make sure I use that pretty pussy until it’s wrecked and full of my cum.”
You squeak, your brain trying to think of a good response to that. Yunho chuckles and lifts his knee, making you involuntarily buck against him. 
“You gonna shut up now and make sure you can do that for me? Get that little cunt wet enough so I can use it as much as I need to?” 
“Y-yes,” you stammer. His dark eyes drop to see the result of your grinding, the wetness beneath you. 
“Good girl,” Yunho nods. “Come on. Harder baby, need you to make a mess on my jeans.”
You do as he asks, grinding hard against his thigh, biting your lower lip as he alternates, flexing and relaxing the muscle beneath you. You move your hand to his and push it away, tugging your panties aside in one hand and gripping his shoulder with the other, looking down with parted lips because holy shit—you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet. 
He feels so fucking good, there’s so much more you need from him, want to do for him, but you promised you’d cum. So you rub and grind and clench your teeth until you’re mumbling incoherently, much to his delight. 
“That’s it, that’s my good girl. So fucking pretty and stupid when she gets desperate, can’t understand a word you’re saying,” he says, hands finding your waist. You sob and begin clumsily rutting against him, no rhythm whatsoever, just desperation and chasing physical sensations. Yunho loves to see it, coaxing you over the edge the closer you get. 
“That all you’ve been thinking about, baby? All your holes getting stuffed? Bet you miss waking me up with my cock in your throat.”
You whimper and nod, eyes shut tight as your orgasm remains just out of reach. You need him to do it, to finish you off, you’re not sure what that would be, just that you want him to help. 
“M-More yu, gimme more,” you whine softly, mouth open like a dog as you pant. 
“More? More what? I haven’t given you anything, babygirl,” he chuckles. You’re not in the mood to play with words, but Yunho suddenly grabs your chin, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. You feel the burn of tears as you squirm and rut, his eyes full of satisfaction. 
“You still gonna ask for more when I’m stuffed inside you?” he asks roughly. You nod eagerly, but Yunho only smirks. 
“Knew you would, baby. Such a fucking slut for me. I tell you to ride me and here you are, too needy to realize we would’ve been home half an hour ago.”
“H-Huh?” you mumble out, that knot in your stomach untwisting. “F-Fuck, ‘m… g-gonna—”
“Gonna what? Ruin my jeans with your pretty pussy? All so I can get my cock inside as soon as I get you home?”
“Yunho,” you sob, a gasp on your lips as you begin to cum, eyes squeezing shut. 
You ride out one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had, mouth open, nothing coming out but pitiful squeaks and choked sobs. Yunho watches, lip caught between his teeth, holding you tight as you briefly leave this plane of existence in his arms.
“So fucking beautiful,” he breathes when you finally open your eyes, releasing a mixture between a cry and a sigh. “My good girl. I’m the luckiest man on this planet, baby.”
You choose to breathe rather than respond, but he’s fine with that, hugging you to his bare chest and cupping the back of your head. 
“I love you so much, you know that?” he says, words muffled as he speaks against your hair. “Can’t wait to get you home. Gonna show you how much I missed you.”
He runs his fingers through your damp hair. You know you look wrecked already, and you’ll be shocked if you last more than one round tonight. But you’ll try for him.
“M-Missed you too, yuyu,” you weakly reply. “Why…why aren’t we home?”
Yunho laughs, brushing your hair back to kiss your temple. 
“Arranged for us to ride around for a bit beforehand. Figured one of us would cave at the restaurant,” he admits. You look up at him, the stupid boyish grin on his face making you smile. 
“I love you,” you huff. He leans down, lips soft and unhurried against yours for what feels like the first time that night. He tastes no different, feels no different than he did 5 months ago, and it livens you up a bit, much to his amusement. 
“I love you too, pretty.”
279 notes · View notes
covenofagatha · 14 hours ago
Text
Do I wanna know? (Part 1)
Sequel to But you're my stepmom!
Picks up a few months later after your dad and Agatha get divorced and you've started college
Word count: 3.8k
Warnings: fingering, mommy kink, slight angst
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Fuck. You do not want to do this. 
It’s a Saturday night and you’re here. You should’ve said you had anywhere else to be, but instead, your car almost gets hit as you turn the corner in possibly the narrowest parking garage you’ve ever been in. It makes you swear and you stomp on the brakes so quickly you think you might have a bruise from the seatbelt. 
But luckily, you find a spot on the first floor and squeeze between two other cars, muttering a silent prayer that you don’t scrape against them.
You wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans as you get out and walk into the lobby of the apartment complex. 
It’s nice, although you hate to admit it. You would surely not mind spending more time here if it didn’t mean having to see—
“Hey, sweet pea!” 
Him. You look to your right and plaster on a fake smile when you see your father standing there, slipping his phone into his pocket. 
“Hey,” you say softly, awkwardly patting his back with a hand as he embraces you. 
He had been asking to get dinner with you at least once a week for the past few months since he and Agatha got divorced. You’ve always found an excuse to get out of it — you had homework, you had exams, you had to work over the summer and you were so tired — but now that it’s your first weekend in college and he knows that you don’t have anything going on, he insisted. 
Plus your mom had sort of asked for you to go at least once. Your dad has been sending you updates about his apartment search and random internet posts that he found funny, and having lived at home all summer, you’ve kept your mom in the loop. She is still obsessed with him, always finding ways to bring him up in conversation, and you wish you were brave enough to tell her to just move on. She was absolutely ecstatic when you broke the news about him and Agatha and she’s been pressing you for updates ever since. 
Part of the reason she wanted you to go see him was to scope out his new place and see if there was any sign of a new woman. There was still no sign about the lady he was having an affair with, so you weren’t sure if things had ended. 
And when he moved out the first time, he took your mom’s can opener and she still won’t let it go. Before you left, she texted you that if you saw it, you should steal it back. 
After the divorce went through, your dad had decided to sell the house and look for an apartment a little closer to his work, and he’s lived in this place for about a month now. 
“How are you? How’s it going?” he asks as he leads you to the elevator. He presses his fob to the button inside and then floor six. You remember him being so consumed with having one of the top floors, like that would make him seem more important. 
You shrug and pick at the peeling skin on your fingers. It’s a bad habit — one of your many. “Pretty good. Syllabus week has been a breeze. Made some new friends.”
“Classes seem like they’ll be fun?” he asks. 
“Yeah, I hope so.” 
And then a tense silence falls over the both of you. You haven’t actually seen him since your graduation, which was a whole other level of awkward with your mom there too, and you both know that the two affairs and two divorces has put a strain on your relationship.
It does hurt a little. You wish there was a way you could reach over the cold gap between you and go back to how things were when you were a kid, when you actually liked being around him. 
But too much has happened. 
“Well, I’m really glad you were able to come down for dinner,” he says and you smile tightly. “I can’t wait to show you the place and then we can get whatever you want to eat.” 
The elevator dings and you follow him to an apartment a few doors down and he unlocks the door and lets you go first. 
The floors are a laminate gray, the counters in the kitchen marble white with black pendant lights over the peninsula. The refrigerator is stainless steel and there’s a completely stocked wine cooler fridge built into the cabinets next to the stove. You walk past the kitchen into the living room where the couches from his and Agatha’s house are set up around an entertainment center with a fireplace and a blue rug under the coffee table. 
“What do you think?” he asks, stepping next to you and putting an arm around your shoulders to bring you in close to him. 
You take his fancy bachelor pad in again. “Yeah, it’s pretty nice. Maybe just pizza for dinner? We can order and watch a show or something?”
Staying in and having the television as a buffer is a much better plan than going out and having to make small talk that will end up with him on his phone anyway. He agrees and calls to order the pizza while you perch on the couch and scroll on your phone. You already have a text from your mom telling you to call her when you’re done and your chest tightens at the thought of all the shit she’s going to say. It’s fucking exhausting still being in the middle of this — you really thought it would get better, especially now that you’re in college. And yet, here you are. 
“So…” your dad starts, plopping down next to you with a groan once he gets off the phone. He grabs the remote and turns the TV on. “You like your roommate?”
Your roommate, Alice Wu, is a sweet girl from out-of-state. You think that you and her will get along just fine and you’ve already agreed on all the rules of cleaning and having friends over. The first week has gone well and you’ve gotten close. “She’s cool. I think she and I will be good friends.” 
He nods and turns on a show you watched awhile and the two of you sit in awkward silence until the pizza guy rings from downstairs. You excuse yourself to the bathroom after your dad rings him in. 
The bathroom is through the bedroom and you take careful note of the sheets still strewn all over the bed and the two pillows at the top. One nightstand is cluttered with a phone charger, earplugs, a lamp, and a picture of you on your graduation day in a silver frame. It tugs at your heart and you instantly look away, not wanting to feel any more nostalgia. 
However, on the other nightstand, there’s just a matching lamp. No hair tie, no other chargers or personal belongings. 
But that stuff is easily hidden, so you go into the bathroom. One toothbrush, one retainer case, one razor. You can’t tell if you’re disappointed or glad. 
At least you won’t have to listen to your mom talk endlessly about a new woman. 
Your dad already has a plate with two slices on it for you sitting in your spot on the couch and you dig into it, suddenly famished. The atmosphere does warm up over time, and it’s no longer uncomfortable silence and you do end up talking a bit about his work and more about your school while the TV plays.
He doesn’t bring up your mom or Agatha at all, and neither do you. In a way, it’s nice to be removed from them for a few hours. Your dad has been villainized by both of them — and obviously he fucked up — but he is still your dad, despite your complicated feelings toward him. 
After a few episodes of the show, you shift to get up, grabbing your plate. “You’re leaving already?” he asks and checks his watch.
“Yeah, it’s getting late and I should really be getting back to the dorms,” you say, trying to sound apologetic. Even if the bubble has been nice, you have somewhere you need to be. 
It’s hard for your dad to hide his disappointment, but he gets it and grabs his keys to walk you down to your car. 
“How’s, uh, how’s your mom doing?” he asks. Still putting me in the middle of all the imaginary drama she’s creating with you is what you want to say. But you know that he’ll call her out for it and you’d have to deal. 
“She’s pretty good. Work’s been keeping her busy.” A safe answer. A true answer. 
“Good,” he says and shoves his hands into his pockets and you know what’s coming next. “And Agatha? Have you seen her at all?” 
Imagines of her hot body on yours flash through your mind. Her rosy nipples, her pale stomach, the heat that swallows up her eyes. “Yeah, I’ve seen her around. She’s doing all right, too, I think.”
Your dad nods and stops at your car. “Well, I had a great time with you,” he says and holds his arms out for a hug. You mutter something in agreement and give him an embrace with two pats — the way you’ve done it since you were a kid. “Let’s do it again soon.”
He tells you that he loves you and after you say it back, you get into your car and he watches you as you drive away. 
Begrudgingly, you call your mom and put her on speaker and not even a second later, her voice fills your car. 
“How was it? Did you see anything? Is there another woman? Did you find my can opener?” she asks all in one breath and you take a silent, deep breath. 
You can’t wait to be home. “It was a pretty nice place actually.” Your mom snorts. “There wasn’t any sign of someone else there and I didn’t have time to look around. We just watched a show and ate pizza.” 
She makes a sound. “Wow, father of the year. Maybe he cleaned up the place before you came over.” You hum noncommittally. “What are you doing tomorrow? Want to come over? I’ll take you grocery shopping.” 
“Yeah, let me just check my schedule. Alice and I might be doing something, but I’d love to go there for a bit. Especially for groceries,” you tease and she laughs. 
“I bet your father didn’t even offer to do that,” she says smugly and your face falls. Sometimes you wonder if she does half the things that she does for you just to one-up him. 
“Okay, well I’m almost back now, so I’ll let you know when I’m coming over tomorrow,” you tell her, eager to wrap it up, and about to turn in. “Love you.” You hang up before she’s even done saying it back. 
Once you park, you text your roommate saying that you won’t be back for the night — staying with family — and walk up to the apartment side door, letting yourself in with the fob on your key ring. 
Agatha’s apartment complex is smaller than your dad’s, but just as nice, and you prefer it a lot more. 
After the divorce, she stayed in a hotel for about a week before signing a lease on a place about ten minutes away from where the house used to be. You had helped her pick out the furniture and spent more time here than at your mom’s house the last couple months of school and she gave you a key to it the day she moved in. 
It got harder over the summer to hang out with her, as you worked at an ice cream shop in the afternoons into the evenings and she was working her normal nine to five, but you made it work. 
Things are really good between the two of you. There isn’t exactly a label on it, per se, but you both know that it’s a relationship. And without your dad in the picture and with her not being your stepmom anymore, there isn’t as much of a need to keep sneaking around — so when she puts an arm around you while you’re walking down the street and kisses your cheek when you say something cute and ghosts her pinky against yours, it’s okay. 
You know things might change a little with you in college now, but you’re ready for it. And if you spend more nights at her place than at your dorm, so be it. It’s not like anyone’s going to know, and Alice will just think you’re staying with family. 
Unlocking the door, you can practically feel the tension seeping away from your body. Agatha makes everything feel better. Even the house you grew up in, the one your mom still lives in, doesn’t feel as home as this does. 
You don’t see her when you first walk in and you walk into the living room to see her typing something on her computer, brows furrowed, and you can just make out the glint of a document through the reflection of her glasses. 
“Hey, you,” you greet, kicking off your shoes. She startles and looks up before slamming her laptop shut and smiling. 
“Hey, honey,” she says and pats the spot next to her while she leans forward to place her computer on the coffee table. “How was it?” 
Agatha had emphatically listened to your incessant complaining about having to get dinner with your dad, but in the end she had also pushed you to go. You groan and flop onto the couch, situating yourself so that your head is in her lap and you’re looking up at her. “It wasn’t that bad,” you admit and she smirks. “Don’t even think about saying ‘I told you so’. I will leave.” 
She tosses her head back with a laugh and you play with the strands of hair that’s falling over her shoulder and teasing your face. “I would never, darling. But I’m glad it wasn’t bad. How is he?” 
Your nose wrinkles. “Can we not talk about my dad? Although, I was just thinking about how much of a reward I deserve for going.” 
“Oh, you think you deserve a reward, do you?” she ribs lightly, raising an eyebrow and poking you in the stomach. You giggle and twist away from her finger before sticking out your bottom lip as pitiful as you can and giving her doe eyes, nodding your head. She rolls her eyes fondly. “What were you thinking, honey?” 
You shrug like you’re just now beginning to think about it. “Well, mommy,” you say, a thrill running through you at her sharp gasp. “I think since I was such a good girl, you should give me an orgasm.” 
“Oh, just one?” she asks playfully, and you surge up out of her lap, turn over onto your knees to face her, and pull her in for a kiss. Your lips move against each other with familiar ease, her tongue licking hotly into your mouth and you moan — her hands slide up under your shirt and rest on your bare skin before you reach down and take it off. 
“As many as you’ll give me, mommy,” you pant, and she grins before starting to suck open-mouthed bites onto your chest. You’re wearing green lingerie but she barely even looks at it before unclasping your bra from behind and tearing it off, throwing it somewhere on the floor. 
She swirls her tongue around your nipple before suckling hard and you whimper, holding her head right against you. It feels like there’s a wire running straight from your boob to your cunt and you quickly feel yourself becoming soaked. Agatha switches to the other one and soon your entire chest is sticky with her saliva and you’ve moved onto her lap, squirming. 
Her teeth nip at the underside of your breasts and you can’t take it anymore. “Mommy, please,” you beg, grabbing her hand and leading it to the waistband of your jeans. Her fingers rest there while you quickly unbutton and unzip and then you shove her into your pants, your hand circled around her wrist to just feel her. 
Agatha chuckles throatily and moves her fingers experimentally against you while you try to grind down for some stimulation. You suddenly feel so empty, a molten heat between your legs, and Agatha crashes her lips back onto yours. She sucks on your tongue and tugs on your bottom lip as she finally presses against your clit and your hips jerk. “So wet for mommy, aren’t you?” she huffs and you nod and try to move against her harder. 
When she finally pushes your underwear to the side and runs her fingers through your folds, you keen and bury a hand into her hair, face dropping down into her neck. She sharply gasps when you start breathing heavily against her skin, content to just keep your lips planted against her throat. 
She slides a finger into you and your walls clench around her, trying to draw her even more in. Each time she fucks you, it feels like the first time — the same energy is there, the same electricity. But at the same time, she knows exactly what you need, maybe even more than you do. 
Her thrusts begin to pick up and heat is rising through your body and you can see little indents in Agatha’s skin from where your teeth have slightly sunk in. 
“Mommy, mommy — please, I need more,” you whine and she obliges by pushing another finger into you and curling them just right. A high-pitched sound leaves your mouth and you start riding her fingers the best you can, rolling your hips to match her and get her even deeper. You’re clenching furiously around her as sparks begin to fly in your lower stomach and you can feel the beginning tendrils of your orgasm start to build. 
Agatha’s thumb circles around your clit without actually touching it. “God, sweetheart, you look so hot right now, taking my fingers like such a good girl. You feel so good, too. Never wanna leave you,” she babbles, making you convulse even tighter. There’s a slight pink tint to her cheeks and her breathing has picked up and you know she’s affected too. Her fingers are moving faster and she pauses for just a moment, making you whimper, before she stretches you out with a third. 
“Oh, fuck,” you swear, your walls adjusting, and the slight burn only adds to the immense pleasure you’re feeling. “Fuck, fuck.” Your head is spinning, completely drunk with her and her perfume that’s been invading your nostrils the whole time, and you can’t even form a single thought. 
She presses harder on your clit and with the hand that’s not currently inside you, grips your hair and pulls you away from her neck. You can see red blotches staining her skin and the thought of her wearing your marks around gets you even closer. “Look at me,” she grunts, her thrusts becoming more sporadic and you stare right into her dark blue eyes with your pleading wide ones. Your breaths intermix and she looks like she might also cum just from this. 
Agatha lets out a strangled gasp when her gaze flickers from your eyes to your swollen lips to your breasts that are bouncing with your movements in her lap. 
“Mommy, I need — right there —” You can’t even string together a coherent thought and she scissors her fingers inside you, the pressure making you see stars. 
She looks you up and down again, drinking you in like she might never get enough, and her chest heaves with each breath she takes. “Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect,” she groans and your head falls back as you keep riding her. “I need you to cum for me, okay? Cum for mommy.” 
“Mommy, fuck, I’m gonna — fuck I love you,” you groan, not even realizing the words slipping out of your mouth, the words neither of you have ever said before, before it’s too late and your orgasm explodes through your body in a way it never has before. You feel it in every crack and crevice inside you and she keeps fucking you just as hard while rubbing your clit and it quickly becomes too much, tears springing into your eyes. 
Agatha’s fingers finally slow down and she coos sweet nothings in your ear and you wonder if she even heard you. It’s been a few months since you’ve been together, but neither of you has really acknowledged the depth between you. 
And you just did, in the middle of sex. 
“You okay?” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek and you nod before she pulls out of you and you wince at the sudden emptiness. You fall back out of her lap onto the couch. She must not have heard it. 
There’s a slight gnawing feeling that begins to grow in your stomach — if you said it for real, in a moment that couldn’t just be blamed on a dopamine rush, would she say it back? 
Does she feel the same? 
Agatha kisses you before sticking her three fingers into your mouth so you can clean them up. “Good girl,” she purrs in a low voice. “Was that a good enough reward?” 
You’re still a little out of it, but you nod dazedly. “Yeah,” you say softly and she gets off the couch and walks over to the fridge to get you a glass of water. “My mom wants me to go hang out with her tomorrow. What are you doing at night? Can I come over after?” 
She pauses for a fraction of a second and then glances at you over her shoulder. “Um, sorry, baby. I have to work all day tomorrow. Some last minute things I’ve got to get done.” 
You hum, a little disappointed, but graciously accept the water. “No worries. Maybe Monday or something.” 
“Yeah, of course. Just a second, I need to go grab something,” she murmurs and then walks into her bedroom. You’re exhausted and you get off the couch, stretching your aching muscles, and you’re about to follow her when her phone buzzes on the end table. 
Thinking it’s just a work email or something, you glance at it and your stomach drops, heart lurches. 
It’s a text message from an unknown number. 
Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. 
@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights
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runesinthenight · 2 days ago
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There are so many ways that this is a different piece. Not only did they change how it is arranged and remove the context inportant to understanding the piece, but they changed "please take one" to an allergy warning.
The fact that they removed the "please take one" portion of it from a museum standpoint changes so much too. In a museum, you are not supposed to touch any of the pieces unless there is a sign which expressly says you can. The original sign expressly said that. That is the sort of sign that will get visitors to interact with the piece. I would take a piece of candy from that pile.
However, the new sign only has a warning on it. The first sentence is an allergy warning. That in it of itself isn't bad. Having an allergy warning is good if you're inviting people to take a piece of candy. The second line is a choking hazard. While this may be true, it feels more like a way for the museum to cover their ass.
Actually, that whole warning comes across as a legal message. It gives the feeling that the museum is putting all of the blame on you if you decide to eat the candy and something bad happens. It is not inviting. It puts off the visitor. I would not take a piece of candy from that piece.
Now, if in an ideal world where politics and political messaging were not involved and the change was purely for liability reasons, I still would have done it differently. I would have placed it under the "please take one" or on a smaller sign under the original sign.
Doing a little research, the signage for this piece has changed a few times over the years, some having the warning, some not, some mentioning AIDS, some not. But the main outcry has been when this sign does not mention AIDS because it is such an integral part of understanding the piece. This piece is meant to be interacted with and that interaction is meant to spark an emotional connection in the visitor. Taking and eating a piece of candy from it should make you think about Ross and his struggle. It should not just be "oh! Free candy!" That removes so much meaning with the piece. Especially to people who have never interacted with this piece or this artist before.
I am in the museum industry. This is my career. And signage is a critically important part of how a museum presents itself and interacts with the public. I really wish there was a way I could see all of the itterations of this sign and see how they've changed over the years and across institutions. Because this piece is on loan to the Smithsonian from the Art Institute of Chicago and I am curious about what aspects were or were not included as part of the loan agreement. But I also want to see when exactly the first sign was from. As doing a quick search shows that the Art Institute of Chicago aslo got into some hot water in 2022 for not including AIDS in the interpretive portion of their text (which is excluded altogether in the Smithsonian sign).
Signage can be difficult. It's a balance between too much text and not enough. You have to make signage that appeals to a wide range of visitors, especially visitors not knowledgeable about the subject. Art museums tend to lean on the shorter side of signage text with the curator often largely in charge of what does or does not go on. The second sign is an example of what I, in my professional opinion, would consider too little text as important context to understand and connecting with the piece is left out.
the david zwirner gallery and the felix gonzalez torres foundation in the smithsonian removed the descriptive plaque for portrait of ross in la by felix gonzalez-torres. the old plaque explained portrait for ross' origins as the artist's partner's aids related death, and replaced it with a plaque with absolutely no information about the piece itself, who ross was, or who gonzalez-torres was either. portrait of ross was also reeranged to lay on the floor long ways instead of in a pile as it typically is situated, and the plaque outside the exhibition FOR GONZALEZ-TORRES omits his sexuality, as well as his aids related death. i'm in utter disbelief
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nerdygirlramblings · 3 days ago
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Hello! Ive been binging poly!141 and I keep coming back to your writing for my fix (because by now its basically an addiction😅)
I had this idea that the 141 are together with a civilian reader. And civilian reader works in retail, part time, and is mostly at home. Normally, they would be home by the time their boys came home, welcoming them with open arms, a hot plate of food, and time to rest and relax. But this time, the 141 get home early and realize where reader works: Walmart (or equivalent). Reader has been keeping this a secret cause they know its not cute like a coffee shop or cool. Its just their job. And now the most important men in their life know. Im thinking the 141 found out because they went grocery shopping and happened to come across reader or something similar to that.
I work at Walmart and it sucks🥲 thought that maybe something like this might help😅
Tysm, nonny! So happy to hear you like the writing. I hope this does your idea justice. (Walmart doesn't have stores in the UK, but they own ASDA.)
Also, thank you for my first request! 🫶🏻🫶🏻
pure fluff, bad accents (per usual)
Your boys find out you work part-time at ASDA on a random rainy Thursday in March.
You don't really need a job. All four of your lovers are officers with the British army. Prior to you, they all lived in base barracks. Prior to you, they lived fairly Spartan existences. Prior to you, most of their income sat in the bank, quietly accumulating.
They have plenty of money saved up that they love using to spoil you, when you let them. You know that if you asked, they'd give you everything, but you draw the line about asking them for an allowance like some tradwife. You want some pocket money of your own. Thus, the part-time job at the ASDA in town.
You're a people person, good at handling big personalities. You need to be to keep up with your boys. Between John's need for control, Simon's stoic dominance, Johnny's aggressive enthusiasm, and Kyle's blinding charisma, you aren't some shrinking violet. Within a week of your hire, your manager watches how you weather a nasty piece of work trying to demand concessions you aren't permitted to give and immediately puts you in customer service.
You're nearly unflappable in the face of frustrated pensioners and harried parents and entitled young professionals. Over and over, you're the one they call when a customer is going spare. Which is how your boys find out about your job.
They've been deployed for over two weeks, and you have no idea when they'll return. John had originally said they'd be gone for at least a month, so you aren't expecting them home any time soon. However, they'd come home much earlier than anyone thought, and they wanted to surprise you.
You're always so good about making the house feel like a home, with your bright smile and warm laughter, your home cooked food and soft touches in decor. You make them feel like people, not weapons, and they want to return the favor. This last deployment had been hard, and all four of your boys were missing your sweet voice and tender care. They wanted to show you that they loved and cared for you the way you always showed your love and care for them.
It was Johnny's suggestion to prep a meal for you as both a surprise and a thank you. After debrief, they pile into the car and decide to stop at ASDA for everything they need before heading home to surprise you. It's John who causes the code call.
You hear Susan's voice over the store-wide address system. "We could use a little Sunshine in the floral department." That's your cue. You finish with the pensioner at your till as Jacob, your manager, comes over to relieve you.
You take a deep breath and square your shoulders. In your experience, a Sunshine call in floral is a man angry the store doesn't have the fancy arrangements listed on the website. You wish the signage on the site would be more clear that the beautiful bouquets are online orders only. It would save you having to explain why the offers in store are so limited.
You hear him before you see him, smokey voice grumbling, "But if they show the bloody thing on the site as available, you should have it hear." You'd recognize the voice anywhere. He's not angry, not really, but Susan doesn't know that. Add in the sheer size of him, and Simon looming over his shoulder, it's no wonder she called for support.
You have never wanted to walk away from a situation as much as you want to right now, but before you can make an escape, Susan notices you over John's shoulder. Her little wave is enough for your men to notice, and they turn as one to see you coming towards them. Immediately their demeanor shifts. Simon's back sags as though his strings were cut, leaving him loose-limbed. John stands a little straighter, chin up as if to impress you. They've both broken out in smiles, though Simon's are only evidenced by the laugh lines you know to look for. It's only as you get close do they zero in on the badge on your shirt.
"I've got this, Susan," you say to your co-worker. "Jacob's on my till. Can you cover?"
Susan wrings her hands. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay and-"
"They're nothing I can't handle," you tell her, cutting off her worried rambles. There's a cheeky glint in your eye as you flick your gaze at your men. You clap your hands together and say, "Right, let's get this settled, then."
Susan takes one quick look between you and the now slightly less intimidating men and heads towards the front of the store.
Once she's out of earshot, John's face breaks into a frown. "What're you doing here, love?" He glances at your name on your chest again. "You work here?" He sounds almost hurt by the revelation. You can tell Simon wants to reach for you, and the only thing stopping him is you working.
You hear heavy footfalls behind you as Johnny's Scottish lilt reaches your ears. "Och, Cap! Ye said ye'd only be a moment. Gaz and I had a hell of a time getting the trolley on its lift ta find ye. How hard is it to buy bon..." His question dies on his lips as you turn around. "Bonnie?" He, too, sounds hurt to find you working here.
You can see Kyle over Johnny's shoulder, confusion written across his features. This is not how you wanted your boys to find out about your job, if you ever wanted them to actually find out. You thought maybe you'd surprise them with tickets to Hereford FC's opening game in a few months. And if they asked how you afforded them, you could handle this conversation then, but it's out of your hands now.
And as much as you don't want to have this conversation, especially not in the middle of the floral department, you can't stop the wide grin at seeing your boys again, home and whole.
"Hi, boys," you say, opening your arms. Disappointed he might be about finding you here, Johnny's no fool. He immediately steps into your embrace, and the others quickly follow suit. You're swallowed up by the smell and feel of them. The hug lasts one minute. Then two. Then they all slowly step back.
You can see the questions and cut them off before they get started. "I have another three hours before I'm off. We can talk at home, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."
John nods first. He recognizes your tone. You won't let them derail you for answers now, and they would be wasting their breath to try. "You heard the lady, lads. Let's get home."
They start to walk away when you tease, "Captain? Was there a reason you were arguing with Susan about the flowers?"
He halts his steps and turns to you, flush creeping up his neck. He brings his hand up to rub it as he says, "Er, I, we, wanted to get ya something nice, but they don't have the same ones as online."
You melt a little, watching the way your men shift nervously behind their captain. You smile softly and reach over, plucking a bouquet of rainbow poms from the rack. "These are what I usually get for myself when you're away."
John takes them gently from your hand and passes them to Gaz to put in the trolley. "We'll see you at home, love," he murmurs, leaning over briefly to kiss your cheek. Simon kisses the top of your head, fabric brushing your hair. Johnny pulls you in for another bruising hug and kisses your other cheek. Gaz puts his hands on your waist, drinking in the sight of you, before taking your hands in his and kissing your palms.
You watch them leave, wondering how you'll make it through the rest of your shift.
Three hours and fifteen minutes later, you cross the threshold of your shared home to the most delicious scents wafting from the kitchen. After slipping your shoes off next to the piles of boots at the door, you follow your nose back to the kitchen and the spread laid out on the large wood-topped island. There's a roast and mushy peas and mashed potatoes and stewed carrots and battered cod and crisps and spinach all surrounding the flowers you'd suggested, nestled in the vase you love most, the Caithness one Johnny'd bought you on your first trip with them to Scotland.
At the table, your men sit, plates made for everyone, waiting on you. They've changed since you saw them. Gone are any traces of fatigues and tactical gear. Instead they're all in casual civvies, truly home for the first time in nearly three weeks. Simon stands as you come in and pulls out your chair, smile on his scarred lips. "Come sit, doll," he tells you, not quite an order.
You look quickly around. "Let me change," you say, tugging at your uniform top. "I won't be but a minute." You back out of the room before they can stop you. You hurry to your bedroom, pulling your top off as you go. Once behind the door, you slip from your trousers into comfortable leggings and a large jumper, one of Kyle's you think.
By the time you make it back to the kitchen, your men are more than a little antsy. Simon's smile is a little strained, Johnny is fidgeting, Kyle keeps glancing between you and John, and John is staring at you. Your chair is still out. He waves a hand at it, and gently says, "Come sit, love." It's couched as request, but you know a command from your lover when you hear it.
You take your seat at the table. "Listen-" you start, but John cuts you off.
"Are we not providing for ya, love?" You see the hurt in his eyes, how much it bothers him to think he, they, aren't doing enough for you.
"Oh, John, dear, no!" you reply, putting your hand over his on the table. "It's not that at all."
"Then what?" Simon asks.
You look at them all, the expectant faces waiting to hear how they failed you. "I get restless sometimes. I love you, and I love our life. I'm happy to take care of the house and make sure you're all fed after a long day. But I wasn't built for sitting around doing nothing. I like people; being home on my own all day can get lonely. Especially when you're deployed. I also like having my own pocket money."
John opens his mouth, and you know what he's about to say, so you continue. "I know you'd give me any money I need or want, but I like having my money. Money I earned myself." You look around at them, willing them to understand. "It's only part time. Helps me keep a little busy and have a little extra to spoil you and me with."
Johnny is frowning, but you see Kyle, head cocked, looking at you as a puzzle. "I think I understand," he says softly. "You were making you way just fine before us, and you gave up everything for us."
At his words, the crease between John's brow deepens, and you're sure he's remembering the job you had, that you'd somewhat enjoyed, when you'd first met them. You'd been working at RAF Lakenheath, living in a cozy flat in Cambridge, near The Backs, when the 141 had been coming through the base after an op. An injury had put Kyle in the med center for a week, and while he could have been transported to Hereford once stable, Laswell had worked it out for the whole team to have some R&R near the base.
You'd quite literally run into John one day, rushing to your office, after which he suggested lunch as an apology. You quickly became close with all four, smitten with them from the start. In turn, they fell hard for you. They wooed you over the course of several weeks, stopping through Lakenheath on deployments to spend some time with you. Six months in and you were completely gone on all four of them, so when they'd asked you to move to Hereford, you did without ever looking back. But it meant giving up the life you'd led.
Somewhere along the way, your happiness overshadowed all you'd left behind. After a few weeks, being home alone while your men worked started to feel isolating. You liked being a little busy, and there weren't enough projects around the house to keep you busy enough. You'd always been independent, but you didn't want to be stuck in a job with long hours anymore. You wanted to be home for your men. So you'd found the job at ASDA.
Kyle reaches over to where you hand is still on John's. "I'm sorry we didn't ask how you were coping us being gone all day," he says. He looks you in the eye as he continues. "I understand wanting to do something, wanting to be a little busy, and if this makes you happy, then I'm all for it, doll." He gives you a small smile and squeezes your and John's hand.
"Gaz is right," Simon rumbles. "We were so happy to have you here we didn't think about what you did all alone all day." He puts a heavy hand on your thigh, the warmth of him seeping through your thin leggings. "'m glad you have something to keep you from getting lonely."
"Sorry, hen," Johnny murmurs, just above a whisper. "We didnae think a' ye enough." You smile widely at him.
"Johnny, you think of me all the time. This isn't about neglect at all!" You try to catch his eye, but he's looking hard at the table in front of him. "You did nothing wrong, love," you tell him gently.
He looks at you, blue eyes bright. "Ye sure?" You've never seen him this nervous before, and you break a little.
"I'm sure love."
He smiles then, a little smile, but it brightens his face and shifts the mood in the room. You look at John who's been surprisingly quiet this whole time.
He's smiling, but it's a little sad. "I know ya said we didn't do anything wrong, but we feel like we did. We didn't notice you were bored, didn't ask if you were lonely." He flips his hand over under yours and threads your fingers with his. "Yer giving us a gift by not blaming us, and we'd be stupid not to take it, even though it feels like yer giving us an out. Thank you." He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it softly.
"Thank you. I was worried you'd be mad," you admit.
"Never could make us mad with something like this, hen," Johnny reassures you. "I'm sorry we had to spoil your day is all."
You turn back to look at the food on the island. "You didn't spoil my day. You made it. You're home early, and you made such a lovely spread. I think we should tuck in, yeah?"
Simon chuckles. "Point made, doll," he says, scooping a heaping helping of mash onto his fork. The rest take it as a sign to start eating too.
The room is silent save for the sounds of food savored until John pipes up, "Why'd ya come to florals, love? We might have missed ya altogether if not for that."
You giggle. "The sunshine call, John."
"Yeah?" He clearly doesn't understand.
"It's the shop call for a difficult customer. When I'm on shift, it's my job to handle those." You look at each of your lovers in turn. "Seems I've got a knack for dealing with muppets," you tell them with a smirk.
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gardenfairie · 2 days ago
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This question asked by a mileven to finn wolfhard might've been one of the best proofs bylers got today lmao.
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There is so much to unpack here.
"What makes miIeven so strong?" — Finn didn't address this at all. Is their "love" really so strong if he can't easily speak on it? lol. Caleb was going on about how unconditional and forever lumax's love was today. Those were the words he used. And Noah went on and on about byler's bond at his last panel in 2024.
Instead of answering how their love is so strong, Finn starts talking about how romance was the last thing on Mike's mind when he met El. This easily kills the 'love at first sight' from the monologue, which is hilarious because the questioner is asking "how does Mike's monologue impact them after season 4". So not only did he ignore the question, but he also contradicts the monologue that the questioner wants to hear more about, not once, but THREE TIMES 😭😭😭
"I dont think romance was on his mind even when he initially found eleven" "didn't perceive himself to be in any romantic relationship" "that wasn't even on his mind"
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Next he's comparing el to ET: the least romantic dynamic ever. ET is an alien that a boy named elliot takes care of. So apparently that's how Mike initially saw El— like a pet he had to take care of. (This is not news and has been said multiple times by the duffers and finn by the way). Oh and ET says goodbye and leaves at the end of the movie.
"relationship with a lot of people", "feelings towards someone" — Keeping it gender neutral I see :))
"first love", "that relationship is his first romantic feelings for someone" — Usually people signify the relationship being a first because it's not the LAST either *chuckles*. Interesting how finn doesn't say anything like "that relationship is his ONLY romantic feelings towards someone" if he wanted to emphasize how deeply in love they are like how the questioner so clearly wanted him to lol
"going into season 5", "still a couple going into it" — So he said not once but twice "going into..." He seems to want to make it really clear he's ONLY referring to the beginning of the season and nothing else, because it's literal common sense. mike and el ended off season 4 together, so yeah no fucking duh they're starting off season 5 together?? Like what lol.
"that's all I can say about 5" — So zero indication that Mileven are still together in the middle, or the end, or anywhere beyond the start of season 5.
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Now what would be a better more pro-mileven response to this question? Probably something like this (I'm essentially taking stuff Noah and Caleb have said about byler and lumax and mashing them together):
The romantic relationship between Mike and El is a foundational element of stranger things. What makes them so strong and how does Mike’s confession impact them after season 4?
I think what makes Mike and El so strong is their unconditional love and connection with each other, just as what Mike's confession showed. I can't give spoilers about season 5, but I'm just excited for you guys to see it. Like I think all throughout the seasons, I have have so many great scenes with millie. I can't spoil anything but Mike and El's relationship has been so important all throughout, and you'll see what they will face in season 5.
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freakattack · 1 day ago
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Favorite obscure Mario characters?
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GLOM
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The light of my fucking life. As a lifelong koopalinghead and specifically iggyhead i slurped up the Nintendo Adventure Books like a slug slurps slime and obviously a connoisseur of my caliber would immediately latch onto this thing. It's a cloning machine Iggy made that turns sand into clones but more importantly it is a 15 ft tall clanking clunking contraption with googly eyes (to see what it's cloning, natch), a stack of CRT monitors that each display a different horror B-movie at all times, and a constant trail of slime oozing from its tank treads. If this is not your favorite Mario character of all time then you're an idiot.
2. DOUGHNUTEER
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I might be the only person who cares about doughnuteer and I couldn't tell you why. Actually I can, it's because he reminds me of a little shrew
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And I like doughnuts.
3. PIRANHA SUE
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In addition to the Nintendo Adventure Books i also lapped up the corresponding Nintendo Comics System, which followed a similar continuity in the absence of more official sources of mario lore. I never appreciated piranha sue as much as I should have in my youth but after revisiting these comics a couple years ago i can safely say that she is the greatest bootleg piranha plant I have ever met and it is an honor to witness her evil human teeth. I want her in mario baseball.
4. HERMAN SMIRCH
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Herman smirch is a terrible person and character but I am transfixed by his awfulness and so he is here. Growing up the Game Boy Comic was like the evil counterpart to the Nintendo Comics System, but now that I'm grown up and evil myself I can truly appreciate the depths of its depravity. The gist of Herman Smirch is that he is a shitty loser republican from new jersey who obtains a game boy that, through the will of Tatanga (who lives in the game boy), manipulates him into committing increasingly violent crimes until he has embroiled himself in an international military conflict. The game boy comic was supposed to make people want to buy the game boy but in practice placed it center stage in a slow burn of this already terrible man's spiral into insanity. What a yarn. I have shown a highlights reel of herman's wacky antics here but if you're too lazy to click that link then I at least want you to see this:
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5. FRACKTAIL
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Fracktail is comparatively not obscure at all but I don't care it's my list I'll cry if I want to. If I put fracktail here then I would technically be justified in also putting other mario rpg all-stars like Bowyer and TEC-XX and Valentina but I won't go that far, Fracktail can be here on their behalf. Anyway, the first time I saw this thing I screamed, because I thought I was going to have to fight it, and then it was friendly and then I loved it forever. And then a stupid bastardly clown came and destroyed everything and ruined my life but this isn't about him. I love you Fracktail and I wish you were still here. You didn't deserve that
6. HAL 9001
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Moving on
7. WOOSTER
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Before Toadsworth, there was Wooster. The original long-suffering butler to the Toadstools, Wooster was a Nintendo Comics System Special who presumably passed alongside the Mushroom King he served. There isn't much to say about his character beyond the typical trappings of Beleagured Butler, but there is one thing that makes him interesting to think about and that is the comic called "Wooster Quit". In "Wooster Quit", every Mario character is FLABBERGASTED because Wooster Quit, and they can't imagine a life without Wooster. So the whole comic is about everybody trying to get Wooster back and of course Wooster comes back and the status quo is restored. But the premise of casting this mario OC as an essential player in these characters' lives is funny to me in a meta sense because we very much do live a life without Wooster. We are living in a post-Wooster world. It just goes to show that no matter how obscure you are, you are important to someone. Even if that someone is me.
8. ROACHIE
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Roachie is the cockroach living in Wario's brain. One morning, she crawled up his nose, which Wario was horrified by but not for the reason you might think: "Is little roachie gone for good?!?!!?" As a devout cockroach appreciator, I was touched by Wario's genuine concern for God's most darling creature. Fortunately, little roachie was not indeed gone for good, because that very night, Wario heard her walking around inside his skull. Yippie! Hooray! We can only hope that she is living a nice life up there to this day. Hope is all we have.
9. BRAWL DOLL
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This will come as no surprise to those who know me, but if you don't know me: fellas, I fucking love ventriloquist dolls. Charlie mccarthy was my idol growing up. I'll never be half the dummy he was. So a wario-branded wooden doll is basically my ant bait. Brawl Doll is what Geno could have been if Square wasn't full of squares.
10. THE BEETLES 'R' US SNIFIT
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They put me in a mario game
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emcapi · 23 hours ago
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I know this absolutely doesn't solve the wider systemic issue, but I highly recommend learning to cut your own and your friends' hair. It's easier than you think!
All you really need to get started:
Shears (necessary even for very short/buzzcut hair, you may end up with a few straggler hairs especially around the ears or patches that need manual evening out)
Thinning shears (VERY important - these let you do layering and texture super easily, make cuts look professional by softening blunt/choppy edges, and they can also salvage a lot of mistakes by blending them into the rest of the hair)
Electric clippers if you're doing buzzcuts or undercuts (If you can afford it, get the ones a step up from the most basic model, because the cheap ones suck and you'll end up going over the same spot 5 million times trying to get it even; I have a Wahl Elite Pro which is about $70, includes a pair of shears, and has paid for itself many times over)
Fine-toothed comb
Spray bottle (keep hair damp while cutting to make it easier to manage)
Set of hair clips (critical for bangs, undercuts, or different length sections)
Large hand mirror (Use together with wall/bathroom mirror to see the back of your head. It works best to have your back to the big mirror, hold the hand mirror in front of you, and adjust to get the right angle.)
I've been exclusively cutting my own hair for 8 years now, almost entirely self-taught, with both long and short styles. I won't lie, it's kind of scary at first! But if you fuck up, you can fix it yourself, and it'll grow out again, or you always have a professional stylist as a last resort. Most people won't notice the difference between a passably well-done DIY cut and a professional one (and if you do somehow fuck up beyond repair, you can always lie and say you went to a place that botched it).
And once you have the hang of it, the advantages are huge. No more dealing with hairstylists misunderstanding (intentionally or otherwise) what you want. No more spending money on haircuts, or dealing with executive function barriers to making or keeping appointments. And once you've found a style that Works for you, you can get really good at recreating it!
Again, this is not the same thing as fixing the systemic issue. But I for one absolutely love having full autonomy over my hair, and I'm here to tell you that if you've ever considered cutting your own hair, give it a try. It's absolutely worth it.
the thing about having long hair especially if you are a girl/perceived as one is people act like they will be personally offended if you cut it. INCLUDING! hair stylists who you are paying to cut it. double it if you have blonde/red/ginger/curly/etc hair. like the lack of autonomy ive been allowed to feel about my hair, even when its subtle still has me afraid to go to the stylist and ask for the haircut im paying to get.
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soleilapproves · 2 days ago
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ex-convict!sukuna tries to talk to burnt out!reader about her feelings but she dismisses him. not proofread, sorry :(
prompt for more context
Anxiety lathered your back in cold sweat as you received your exam sheet from your TA, not bothering to look twice at your haphazard state before moving on to the next person.
You knew there was a reason why your paper was given to you faced down while your friend received hers with bright red numbers beaming up at her. You knew it was just your insecurity speaking to you, but it really did feel like the entire classroom of seventy-five people were staring at you. Even if your seat was all the way in the corner and Sukuna’s faded brown leather jacket basically cloaked you into invisibility.
You weren’t sure how you accidentally snagged it in the first place, all you remember was that you had slept with him the night before an important exam and rushed out with his jacket instead of your oversized hoodie that you sported for the Walk of Shame. It was the only thing comforting you at the moment. The familiar smell of nicotine and wet grass clouded your senses as you imagined him holding you close with his fingers stuffed in your cunt and his lips on your neck after yet another failure.
Just how many times were you going to go to him to comfort yourself? It was starting to become a habit that shaved you to your bones.
Your chest tightened as the ceiling got lower and lower to the point where you could feel the bright fluorescent lights burning the brittle hair on your scalp. The brick walls engulfed you till yours bones crunched and your muscles tightened.
Without thinking twice, you grabbed your worn denim satchel as you silently raced out the lecture hall, trembling like a fawn. Your boots splashed against the wet ground as you walked towards the back of the building and slid down on the wall while hugging yourself.
Your closed palm held your failure. Your crushed and creased exam sheet. A part of you wanted to grind it to nothing under your boots, but a part of you still had a sense of accountability so you shoved it in Sukuna’s jacket.
While fishing around in his pockets, you found two very interesting things—a leaf of acetaminophen tablets, and a pack of cigarettes. You knew he smoked with the way his jacket smelled but you’d never seen him do it. The leaf of tablets led you to believe that he must’ve been trying to quit.
You’d never been a smoker, always worried that you’d get addicted once you started, becoming a slave to the little white cylinder, but today was different. It was your last chance at passing the class. The last quiz you could get good grade on before failing the entire class even after giving the final.
You assumed he could always quit faster with one less cigarette in the box so you decided to look for a lighter and found one in his inner pocket.
“What the fuck are you doing?” A large, tattooed hand snatched the cigarette and lighter from your grasp. Sukuna stared at you like you’d betrayed him. You groaned to yourself as you rubbed a hand down your face. You’d forgotten you had texted him to pick you up after class.
This confrontation was of your own design.
“Smoking, what do you think? Give that back,” you got up and tried to snatch it away, but he had managed to grab the box from you as well and thrown it down on the ground, immediately crushing it with his boots.
“I can’t believe you’d destroy pricey cigarettes like that,” you quipped as you shrugged off his jacket, but he grabbed on to your shoulders, preventing you from doing so. “It’s cold.”
Of course, a man of few words when it finally came to talking about something than yourself. “Come on, I’ll drop you home,” his large hand grabbed yours as he briskly walked to his jeep that was parked nearby.
Like clockwork, you pulled him into a rough kiss as he got into the driver’s seat, but he pulled away, a string of saliva thinning into air as held you in place by your shoulders. “What’s wrong?” Your usual routine with him was very predictable—you’d call him to let out some stress, make out a little in his car once he’d come and get you, then go to his place.
Not once had he complained, except for a few instances where he’d insist on fucking you after making you come, not even bothering to ask you to return the favor; a strange occurrence for a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement. Especially with someone as rugged as him.
Usually jail would harden a man up, turn him into an insensitive boor, but it felt the opposite when he’d treat you rather gently: a hand on the small of your back as you’d try to get into his monstrous jeep, or checking in with you after you’d pass out as soon as he pulls out.
It was unexpected yet strangely welcoming.
“You look terrible,” he grimaces. Your cold sweat begins to dry up with the heat of your rage. “Wow. I know I’m not the hottest girl out there, but you really didn’t need to rub it in. I’m out.” He grabs your satchel before you can leave with it. It hangs between you both much like your relationship.
“Don’t get out. I didn’t mean it like that. You just… look really tired.”
You stare at him for a long time before you place your bag back in your lap. You stare ahead at the expanse of fir trees and grass as you lean back in your seat. “Since when did you care about any of that? Let’s just go to your place.”
“When was the last time you had a full night’s rest?” he asked as he started his car. He snatched your satchel and threw it in the backseat. A usual practice for him, although, it was you in the back with him while your bag sat in the front.
“Why are we even talking about this? You’re being weird.” Sukuna’s knuckles turn white at your comment, gripping the steering wheel harder. Your mind races about all the possible ways he could kill you right now. You never really argued with him because you were too afraid to see what he’d be like with his patience on its final thread.
However, you pushed that line today. He was over the edge. You could tell with the way his brows furrowed and his lips flattened ever so slightly. The jeep hadn’t picked up speed. Thank goodness for that.
“You’re in college. You need to take care of yourself,” he flatly said as he made a turn towards his apartment complex.
“Why do you care? You’re not my bo—“
There it was. The taboo word. He sure as hell wasn’t your boyfriend, but he didn’t like the reminder of it either. Only replying to you in grunts and hums when you’d say it. And it wasn’t like you both were that talkative with each other in the first place.
“I’m just worried about you.”
Now he was crossing the line. A boundary you built with ever so shaky hands, so thin that you’d topple over to him if he’d show the least bit affection. You knew he wanted in. You could tell with the way he’d hold your face when his lips would slot themselves on yours. When you’d taste yourself on his tongue.
But you couldn’t let him. It wasn’t right. You’re both fucked up, albeit, in different degrees, but still very messed up with the things going on in your lives.
You did not want him to know what really went on in your mind. Never open the door for a stranger. Even if he knows all about how your body sings for him when he caresses your core.
“Stop the car.”
“What the fuck? We’re about to reach.”
“I said, stop the car. I’m gonna walk home.”
“It’s raining, at least let me drop you off.”
“Stop the car or I’ll jump out.”
You didn’t look back at Sukuna’s face as you walked away. Nor did you tell him that you’d see him later. You both knew he would. Your texts would always come in when you’d be feeling even lower than you presently were.
And then from Sukuna’s jacket (that you were still wearing), you took out a singular, slightly bent cigarette.
more ex-convict!sukuna fics
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yourislandgirl · 3 days ago
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*:ꔫ:*ₓₒ LET ME TREAT YOU ˚ ༘♡ੈ✩ || 박종성 x fem!reader || drabble
— KISS ME, DON’T SAY NO series
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summary: jay was a giver, he always has been. so when your darling boyfriend decided to treat you with his new pay check, you were as grateful as always, but you soon decide that there were more important things than a new pair of jeans
genres: fluff, romance, non-idol!jay x non-idol!reader, est. relationship
warnings: attempts at humour, the smallest hint of angst, potential to feel guilt bcs jay is too good for this world
[archive]
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“I might try this one on too.”
Jay smiled, gesturing for you to let him hold the jeans.
His first pay check had just arrived and your boyfriend had surprised you with a trip to the mall and a nice lunch.
You felt like you’d already splurged enough on the delicious affogato at the cafe but Jay had insisted that you both treat yourselves to some new clothes. And you desperately wanted a new pair of jeans.
“Jay, I swear, it’s impossible to find one that fits exactly the way I want.” You had about four different styles of denim pants hung over one arm as you sifted through the hangers for more options.
Jay was designated with the task to keep track of which jeans seemed closest to your desired style.
You had your back turned to him but you could still hear your boyfriend sigh a little, leaning against the wall as you continued your hunt.
“Love,” he called out, “how about you start trying some of these and see if we can eliminate some options.”
You waved a hand as a gesture for him to wait a second. “I just need one more!”
Jay scoffed a laugh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sure. Sure. Whatever you say.”
“Mhm.”
more under cut !!
After staying silent for a few moments, Jay cleared his throat. “If these jeans fit anything like the ones you’re wearing right now, then I guess it’ll be worth it.”
You gasped, flicking your head to the side, “Park Jongseong!”
Heart racing at the sound of his laughter, you turned away hastily to grab the last pair of jeans in your size before rushing off to the trials rooms.
“Goddamn, slow down.” Jay followed behind you, his long strides helping him catch up in no time.
A smirk creeped onto your face and you shook your head involuntarily at the way Jay pulled you closer by your waist, walking in tandem as you reached the last stall.
“Here.” He handed you the pile you considered ‘Pile 1’ aka the jeans that you were hoping and praying would fit you because they looked perfect. He proceeded to take ‘Pile 2’ off your hands. “Gimme those, and I’ll be right here if you need me.”
You leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Thanks baby,” you whispered, before sliding the curtain shut.
Out of the four jeans you’d brought into the trail room, three fit you quite nicely, but one in particular, was perfect. So much so that you couldn’t help but poke your head out (followed by a quick laugh at Jay’s startled expression) before asking him to come inside.
“So, what do you think?”
Jay dropped the jeans he was holding onto the trail room seat, his eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated between you and your reflection in the mirror.
You turned a couple times to glance at yourself, extremely satisfied with the way they fit.
“You look great,” Jay smiled, his eyes closing slightly into half mooned crescents. “You definitely need to get these.”
You brushed your hair back, sighing from the relief of finally finding a new pair of jeans and not having to wear the same two pieces you had for years. “How much is it?” You asked aloud, turning back to let Jay check the tag.
You watched his face as the sound of cardboard brushing against his fingertips filled the small room. His expression was pretty unmoving, a simple jut of his lower lip followed by a nod.
“It’s good, totally fits the budget.”
You frowned, “Okay… What is it, though?”
“Uh…”
You twisted around to check the tag yourself before feeling your jaw drop. “What?”
Jay stepped forward, his hands enveloping yours, making you let go of the price tag as he turned you back around to face your guys’ reflection. “Don’t worry about it.”
You blinked at his nonchalance, “Jay, it’s not within our budget, it is our budget.”
“You know I can afford it,” he reasoned.
“That’s not the point!”
“Love-”
You look away from the mirror, facing your boyfriend and resting your hands against his chest. “Jay, this is your first proper pay check, this isn’t an internship anymore, you deserve this money.”
“I know that.” Jay leaned a little closer, “But I want to spend it on you.”
You pursed your lips. On the one hand, you really wanted these jeans, but agreeing to spend that much money on them — regardless of the fact that quality denim is an investment — it wasn’t fair to Jay and therefore, went against everything that you stood for.
“I’m not doing it,” you muttered, shaking your head. “I don’t need these. I want them, but I can — no, I will find a more affordable price.”
Jay opened his mouth to interject, only to be silence by your soft palm against his lips.
Your voice was just a whisper, “I don’t want you to convince me. You already give me so much, Jay. We can buy me some nice jeans another time, just enjoy the money you earned for yourself, please.”
Jay’s eyes darted back and forth between yours, you could feel the gentle smile of his lips against your palm before you removed it.
“Come here,” he murmured, pulling you closer and kissing you tenderly. “I’m not exactly happy with this,” his words came out muffled between your kisses, “But just know that I will be spoiling you soon.”
“How about you let me pick out some clothes for you and we’ll call it even?” You slid your arms around his neck.
Jay smirked. “That’s not even in any way.”
“You’ll get a hot new outfit.”
“Tempting.” He leaned forward, nudging your noses together.
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a.n: second instalment of the ‘kiss me don’t say no’ drabble series !! trust cute bf jay to want to treat you when he should be the one getting special treatment :(
taglist: @oceanstide — @sheepsgf
2025 © yourislandgirl
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rabbitindisguise · 1 day ago
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This is why one of my fave lines from Witch King is the bit about "they only have two genders" (barely disguised disdain) because it shows that 1) multiple cultures have different understandings of gender and 2) they have feelings about it and 3) it impacted the information that went from one culture to another, their war practices and mistreatment of captives, and their understandings of their own cultural practices (superior for having more than two genders and genders not conformed by dress vs superior for having 2 genders and modest dress)
There was also a great scene where the main character was half naked but it was scandalous to the guards who kept asking him to put a shirt on because apparently he was underdressed. He was a man possessing a man and yet the men were expected to wear a certain number and kind of layers, with the skirts being less important than the top layers. That's hella interesting and makes the worldbuilding just better imo because it's not like they don't have gender in many of these they just don't talk about it. (Not realistic to irl, people simply talk about gender across cultures and time periods. The first word people often say is often heavily gendered.)
And on top of that in the side characters queer relationship the cross cultural relationship is way more complicated than the lesbian aspect (I forget if they call themselves that though). You can totally have both.
I think since "representation" has become a term people have gotten super self conscious about what they write and heavily over-correct. There's lots of people putting consent 101 in jarringly unrelated scenes to "show" that their characters are consenting. It's a lot like that imo
I feel like a sentiment growing in popularity is that queer people want stories were queerness is incidental, because they're tired of stories about struggling against oppression and want something more escapist. But I've been reading some speculative fiction recently where the queerness of characters is completely unremarked upon, and finding it deeply unsatisfying. It feels less like like escapism to me and more like a gaping hole in the worldbuilding. It's not an issue that the societies depicted are queer-neutral or queer-positive, it's that there is like nothing addressing what those societies think about sexuality, gender, and family systems at all. There's a lot of interesting ways you can write about third genders and same-sex societies/relationships in speculative culture and ignoring all of it entirely to plaster over a surface level modern queer culture veneer is just tragic, in my opinion
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tkwrites · 2 days ago
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The Hughes's Take Hawaii: Maui Edition
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Photo from Instagram
Title: The Hughes’s Take Hawaii: Maui Edition
Author: Tory / @tkwrites 
Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x  Sarah Roberts / Hughes family being family 
Warnings: there’s quite a lot of pining in this, and Quinn is more than a little mopey, especially in the beginning. There's one very mild family fight and lots of brotherly chirping. Other than that, it's mostly fluff with some angst.
Summary: Quinn and his family are on Maui for their first week in Hawaii. Without the knowledge that Jack and Sarah have teamed up to surprise him, Quinn is missing her and wishing she were with them. After all, summer is a long time to be without the love of your life. The family goes snorkeling, Quinn proves just how down bad he is for Sarah, and he asks his dad a very important question, which leads to a full Hughes family discussion. All the while, Sarah and Jack are trying their best not to spoil the surprise.
Word count: 7,000
Comments: I know this snapshot has been a long time coming. The rest of the story - when Sarah and Kylee come in to surprise their guys, will be coming next (posting date tbd). I have a love hate relationship with parts of this. Quinn is so, so piney, but also I can’t see him being any other way. In any case, I think it’s still enjoyable to read. I also really enjoyed writing more about the brothers' relationships with each other. 
Anonymous asked: Will we get to see the family in Hawaii before Sarah comes? Like I could imagine Quinn just talking about her a lot not realizing she is coming. Also I feel like it would be a good time for him to ask about using his grandmas ring.  Anonymous asked: I just read your snapshot where Quinn talks about asking his dad for his grandmas ring for Sarah. I hope we get to see that and he asks in front of his brothers and Ellen as well. It would be so sweet.  Anonymous asked: I was thinking about him asking his dad for the ring in front of his brothers and Ellen.  Anonymous asked: Does Quinn get mad at Jack because Sarah isn't coming on the trip? We know she's coming as is Luke's gf, but he doesn't know that. Does he blame Jack for that, or does he just embrace the brother and family time instead. aloragrace asked: When do you envision Jim and Ellen finding out about Sarah and Kylee joining them on the trip? Are they surprised, too? Did Ellen try to get Jack to change his mind only to be told the plan? Or one of the girls accidentally tell them? Many possibilities 🤔
The Hughes's Take Hawaii: Maui Edition
A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot
Upon landing in Maui, the Hughes’ picked up their car and got dinner before going to their vacation rental. It was a beautiful, modern house full of natural light and wooden furniture. It was the rich kind of beachy - all floor to ceiling windows, skylights, and open spaces with tiled floors so the sand would be easy to sweep out. There were stainless appliances and countertops made from the cross-section of a tree - raw edges and all. It looked impressive and expensive and also homey. The furniture was plush and comfortable, as were the beds. This was what a vacation to Hawaii was supposed to be.   
On the drive from the airport, they’d decided they should take that first day to adjust to the time change, go to the store, and relax before starting their explorations in the morning. 
After helping to unload all the groceries and luggage, Quinn pulled up his world clock to check the time in Vancouver. 8 here meant it was 10 there. Sarah would be getting ready for bed. 
“Hey,” she greeted two rings in, “you made it?” 
“Yeah,” he said, settling into one of the chairs on the patio, which overlooked some cliffs towering over the ocean. The sun was dipping into the horizon behind them, turning the sky orange and pink and blue. It was so beautiful here, it was almost surreal. How could anything possibly be this beautiful? 
“How was the flight?” 
“Fine,” he said, tracing the metal filigree of the chair. 
“Did you not sleep?” 
“Hu?” 
“You seem really tired or something,” Sarah said, sitting on her bed. He was usually a little more talkative when they got on the phone. 
“I just…” he knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way. He was in paradise, and he was with his family. Millions of people would trade him for this position any day. “I wish you were here.” 
Wincing, she stood to pull pajamas from her dresser. “I know, Quinn, but you’re going to have a great time with your family.” 
“I know,” he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “I just don’t get to see you very much this summer, and I miss you. I’m still kind of pissed that Jack wouldn’t let you come.” 
Biting her lip to keep from saying something stupid, she responded to the only thing she trusted herself to. “I miss you too.”
“You even know Hawaii,” he continued after his deep sigh rushed over the connection. 
“I gave your mom a list of things to do,” she reminded. 
Even though she had given Ellen a list, she’d done most of the planning with Jack. He’d messaged her as soon as her flights were confirmed, asking what she liked to do, and if there was anything she hadn’t been able to do while she was here.  
He booked a helicopter tour she'd always wanted to take, but never had the funding to, as well as a kayaking and hiking trip she’d been on several times, and recommended to everyone who asked her what to do in K’auai. 
“It’s not the same,” he said, knowing he sounded like a child. 
“It’s not,” she agreed, “but you’re still going to have a great time. You get undivided time with your brothers, which I know you've been looking forward to.”  
Although part of him wanted to argue the point more, Quinn let the subject drop. It was done and couldn’t be changed. Even he was growing tired of hearing himself talk about it. When he was able to see past the yawning chasm of missing her, he was looking forward to the time with his brothers.
She seemed to sense the change in his mood and asked, “what does the house look like?” 
He switched the call to FaceTime to show her the view and then took her on a tour. Everyone waved from the living room, where they’d started playing chess, when he walked through. 
By the time he made it back to the porch, she was yawning. 
“I’ll let you go,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” she said, holding her free hand over her mouth. 
“No, don’t be. You’ve got work tomorrow. Call me when you’re off?” he asked.
“I will. Love you, Quinny. Have so much fun at the crater tomorrow.” Of all the activities they were doing this first week, this was the only one she was really sad to miss. She'd never been to the Molokini Crater, but the snorkeling was supposed to be unreal, legendary even. 
“I’ll take pictures,” he said. 
“I can’t wait to see.”
“Love you. Sleep well.”
“I will. Love you, Q.” 
As soon as they hung up the call, Sarah breathed a sigh of relief, slumping against the bathroom wall. It had been terrible to keep this secret from him, but now that they were so close to the surprise, it was becoming almost impossible. She couldn’t tell Quinn half of what she was really doing, and it was getting harder and harder to redirect his attention. Now, on top of all that, he was so genuinely sad she wasn’t there, it made her ache. She wanted nothing more than to tell him to just hold on for a few more days. Just a few more days, and she’d be by his side again. The surprise would be incredible, but the build up to it was becoming damn near unbearable. 
The next day started early - much earlier than Quinn was used to in the summer. Thankfully, the time difference made the 6am wakeup call feel a little less extreme. 6am Hawaii time was 11am back home. If he and his brothers hadn’t stayed up half the night talking and laughing, he would have been extremely rested. 
They had to drive to the west side of the island to catch the boat that would take them on the tour of the crater. His mom had done a ton of research and, Quinn was sure, talked to Sarah, and learned that snorkeling was best in the early morning or late evening. Always the early riser, Ellen had booked them a boat at 7. 
The Hughes boys spent most of the 45-minute drive slumped on each others shoulders, trying to catch some extra sleep. Poor Luke, stuck in the middle, got the brunt of it. 
The crater, however, was well worth the early drive and the long boat ride. Seeing the half moon of rock rising out of the waves while the morning light glinted pink off of the water as they approached on the yacht, made for an incredible sight.  
Once in the water, they saw fish and sea turtles and so much beautiful coral. It was a feast of color and texture. 
After diving for a while, Quinn let himself float, taking in the surroundings. More tour boats had arrived while he was under the surface, bringing more people and making the water more choppy.
He couldn't help but feel of two minds. It was incredible to be there and to be there with his family, but he found himself wanting to share everything with Sarah and to hear what she had to say about everything they were seeing. She knew so much about the ocean, and he had so many things he wanted to ask her about.
The peaceful scene was shattered when water flooded into his face as someone suddenly surfaced next to him. 
Spluttering and blinking salt water out of his eyes, Quinn laughed as Jack pulled his snorkel out of his mouth and gestured wildly, which only caused him to sink and splash more water around. 
“There’s some giant…” Jack paused, gasping for breath through his excitement. “Some giant thing over there,” he exclaimed, pointing at the east end. 
Quinn glanced over. 
“You can’t see it from here. Come on!” 
He hesitated for a moment, looking from Jack to the tip of the crater he was gesturing toward, wondering if this was some kind of prank. There was a crowd of people gathered, all looking the same direction, though, so there had to be something there. 
“Dude,” Jack said, an earnest, eager look on his face, “come on.” 
So Quinn followed. They made their way to the front of the crowd, and when Quinn dipped below the surface, a huge fish came into view. It was spotted and gliding through the water with lazy swishes of its tail. Compared with the beast, the people in front of it looked tiny, as if it could swallow them whole. 
“See?” Jack demanded, when they came back up for air. Pushing his shoulder, he sent more water over Quinn
“What is that?”
“How would I know? Some kind of whale?”
Quinn looked around, spotting his parents a ways off. 
After waving and yelling at Luke to join them, they all met in an open spot of water just off from the crowd. 
“Did you see the leopard shark?” their dad asked. 
“Is that what that is?”
Jim shrugged. “I don't know. That’s what someone by us called it.” 
“Kinda big for a shark, isn't it?” Luke asked. 
Jim shrugged, “Sarah could tell us.”
“Well, she’s not here,” Quinn pointed out, not quite able to bite back the accusing tone in his voice. 
“Can't you send her a picture?” Jack asked to stop himself from apologizing. He had every right to request their vacation to be just their family. Not to mention that Sarah would be joining them in less than 6 days. He didn’t need to feel guilty for anything, and especially didn’t want to ruin the surprise. 
“Oh. Yeah,” he supposed he could once they were back in the boat. “Give me the GoPro,” he gestured to Luke, making a grabbing motion. 
Luke passed him the camera, and Quinn dove back under the water.
Each time they surfaced after that, even if Quinn was still under water, at least one of them would wonder what Sarah could tell them about what they'd just seen.
All in all, they were in the water until 1pm, by which time Quinn was so hungry, he felt like his stomach might just eat its way right out of his body. He'd never been so glad for his moms experience as a hockey mom when she pulled protein bars, trail mix and even Gatorade from that giant beach bag of hers on the boat ride back to the island.
It was at least enough to get back to the car and find a place for a small lunch before going to the luau that night.
“Luke, are you ready?” Ellen called down the hall. She told everyone to be ready at 5:30 so they could leave by six, but Luke was taking his time. She wondered if he was on the phone with Kylee. 
“Yeah!” he called back, “just putting on my shoes.” 
In a list of things to do, going to a Luau wasn’t on the top of his, but his mom wanted to go, and, as his dad pointed out, she put up with enough stuff she didn’t like, they could spend at least one night doing something she really wanted. 
When they finally pulled out at 6:05 and Ellen put their destination in her GPS, she realized their timing was a little off. She’d been certain the center was twenty minutes away. They must have been further from their house when she looked it up earlier. Now, they were only ten minutes away and would arrive more than thirty minutes early. At least they wouldn’t miss anything. 
“Why did we have to leave so early?” Jack asked as they pulled in and paid for priority parking. 
“I thought it was further away,” she said. 
The boys looked at each other, wondering if she’d told them to be ready so early so that they would be there on time. It was a bad day to be punctual. 
A woman in a grass skirt and coconut bra welcomed them in without question, giving them each a lei, and leading them to their seats. The crazy thing was they weren’t the only one’s there. At least five other groups were already seated at the long counters overlooking the stage. 
Sarah called as they were waiting for the show to start. 
As soon as he’d picked up, Luke snatched the phone from Quinn’s hand. “Did you see the leopard shark?” he demanded.
“The whale shark, you mean?” she asked. 
“Is that what it was?”
“Who said it was a leopard shark?” she asked, giggling.
“Some woman near us,” Jim said, reaching across Quinn to take the phone. “So, it was a whale shark? Everyone seemed really scared of it.”
“That's too bad.”
“Why?” Ellen asked, popping into the frame. 
Quinn huffed. She’d called him, and now she was talking to everyone but him. 
“I mean, you shouldn't just swim right up to a wild animal, but whale sharks only eat plankton, so they're usually pretty docile,” Sarah explained. “There was one that used to swim by our conservation cove a lot that we nicknamed Ferdinand. He was always really sweet. We'd pet him and stuff, and he never minded.”
Before Quinn could break in, Jack was reaching across his mom to take the phone, “you're telling me I could have pet a whale?”
“A whale shark,” she corrected.”They're not really whales. They have different fins and different skeletal systems.”
“Whatever,” he said with an impatient wave of his hand. “I could have touched it?”
“Maybe? Was someone telling people to back off?”
“I don't know, we didn't get any closer than that.”
“You might have then?” How was she supposed to know when she hadn't been there? 
“This is bullshit,” Jack said, “I told you we should have gone closer,” he said, shooting a sarcastic look at his mom.
“I didn't know what it was,” she said, instantly defensive. “It was a big thing in the ocean. Big things in the ocean eat people.”
Sarah giggled, and unable to stand it any longer, Quinn interrupted, “can I talk to my girlfriend, please?” His demand came out strained and too loud as he practically lay across his dads portion of the table, reaching for the phone. 
Several people sitting in front of them glanced over their shoulders at his sudden outburst.
“Sorry Quinny,” Jack said, handing it back as he fought to bite back his laughter. He'd known Quinn was anxious to talk to Sarah. It was one of the reasons he'd been so quick to steal the phone from his dad before Quinn could break in. He wanted to see just how long he could stand it. 
Jim chuckled as he passed the phone to Quinn, knowing that this outburst would go down in Hughes family history. An instant classic, bound to be brought up at parties and dinners anytime someone asked about Quinn and Sarah. We knew he was whipped when…
Sarah was giggling when Quinn’s face appeared on her phone screen. She was anxious to talk to him, too, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t love the fact that she could hold a conversation with every one of his family members now. It was a relief, really.
“Hi,” he said, feeling heat rise into his cheeks as the reality of what he’d just done settled on him. He was almost always desperate to talk to her, but he could usually hide it better.
“Hi,” she said, a ghost of a laugh still on her face. 
Now that he got a good look at her, he saw she was sitting at her desk, wrapping her hair around some kind of contraption he knew was for heatless curls. He’d seen her do it once before: after they got back from their escapades in his parents' car in New Hampshire.
“How was your day?” he asked, trying not to feel awkward about talking to her not only with his family as an audience but a growing number of strangers in the amphitheater as well. 
“It was good. I finally got Walter to respond the way I thought he would with the dopamine. I figured out I was using too much. How was yours? Did you enjoy the crater?” 
“Yeah, it was so beautiful. I wish you could have seen it.” 
Even knowing he was likely going to say something like this didn’t stop Sarah’s heart from catching in her throat. She wished she could have seen it, too. It’d been on her bucket list the entire time she’d lived in Hawaii, but she’d never made it there. “We’ll go back someday,” she said smoothly, glad that she’d rehearsed something to say. 
Her response soothed something in him. Yes, she wasn’t here, but they could always come back another summer or during a break in the season. They’d have to come back eventually to get her tattoo at any rate.
“Oh, damn,” she said as the scrunchie she’d been getting ready to wrap around the end of her curler flicked off her fingers, sailing into the closet. 
When she got up to retrieve it, he got a clear view of her room. His eyes were immediately drawn to the riot of color covering her bed. Her space was usually very tidy, but today, she had a bunch of what looked like swimsuits spread out over her patchwork quilt.
“Are you going somewhere?” 
Sarah stopped, mentally cursing herself for letting the hair tie get away from her. If it hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see the piles of clothing she was going through so she could more easily decide what to pack. 
Deciding to feign ignorance, she asked, “hu?”
Jack glanced at his mom, eyes wide. He was going to be so pissed if Sarah was about to blow the surprise over a bunch of swimming suits. 
Ellen subtly shook her head, trying to tell him not to react. 
When she’d seen Jack’s opinion of Sarah shift a little more after the family reunion, she asked him if, maybe, he’d consider inviting Sarah to Hawaii. It wasn’t that she didn’t want the time with just their family, but she hated seeing Quinn so moody when he and Sarah were apart. Getting that happy side of her oldest son back in New Hampshire made her rethink Jack’s insistence on the vacation being just them. 
That’s when he’d filled her in on the plan to surprise his brothers, making her swear not to tell anyone else because, “dad can’t keep a secret for shit.” She found herself surprised and so proud that not only was he planning something so special for his brothers, he was welcoming the girls into the family in a way he hadn’t before. 
Now, she was trying to keep him from blowing their cover by reacting to Sarah’s honest mistake.
After retrieving her hair tie, Sarah sat back at her desk and tried to keep her voice level as she told him a partial truth, “Jane, Eunice and I are going to the beach tomorrow. I was just deciding what suit to wear.” She and her roommates were headed to the beach the next day, though Sarah usually didn’t pull out every swimsuit she owned for an outing like that. 
He jumped on her story immediately, “not the black one.”
“Why not?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder, where it was laid out on her pillow, already in the ‘yes’ pile. “I thought you liked that one.”
“I do like that one. You look incredible in it.”
Incredible wasn't quite the best word - she could be on the cover of Sports Illustrated in that bikini.
“So I can only wear it around you?” she teased, finally getting the last of her hair secured in place. 
“Well, no,” he flustered, caught in his imagined jealousy of some guy seeing her at the beach with her friends, thinking she was hot and single. 
Pressing her lips together, she tried not to laugh at his flushed cheeks. “I promise I'll wear it the next time we go to the beach together.” If only he knew how soon that would be. 
It wasn’t quite the conversation he wanted to have as his family was around, but it was when they could talk, so he took what he could get. 
“Talk tomorrow morning?” she asked when he told her the show was about to start and he had to hang up.
He nodded, already planning to get out of the house so they could talk without anyone overhearing. 
“Okay, love you, Quinn.” 
“Love you, too.” 
“Bye, Sarah,” Luke said, jutting into the frame. 
“Bye everyone,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief as the screen went black. All things considered, that call could have been so much worse. At least she’d been able to redirect him away from thinking she was going somewhere. 
The lights in the amphitheater dimmed, and Jack couldn’t help but seize the opportunity to chirp his brother a little before the moment passed them by. “I didn’t know you were down THAT bad, Quinny.”
“Fuck off.” 
“Boys,” Ellen reprimanded, “we’re in public.” 
“He started it,” Quinn said, pointing at Jack. 
“I don’t care who started it. Watch your language. We’re not at the rink.”
Jack smirked, glad to have pulled the reaction out of Quinn he’d been aiming for.  
The next morning, Quinn woke before everyone else, having set an alarm expressly for that purpose. He wanted some time alone with Sarah, even if it was just to hear her voice.
The phone rang five times and went to voicemail. As he was checking the time — it was nine in Vancouver — his phone buzzed and her photo appeared on the screen. 
“Hey,” he said. The greeting came out as a breathed sigh of relief.
“Hi,” she said through a yawn.
“Did I wake you up?” he asked, guilt creeping into his stomach.
“No, not really.” He had, but she wasn’t going to make him feel bad about it. It was well past the time she should be up anyway. “What’s up?” 
“I just wanted to talk,” he said. “We didn’t really get the chance last night. Not about important stuff, at least.” 
“Important stuff?” she repeated, feeling hesitation flutter in her chest. “What important stuff?” 
“Just like, us, you know?” 
“I don’t,” she said, voice gone wary. What was he getting at here? 
“I just mean…” he sighed, deciding he should just be honest, “I just want to hear your voice. Hear about your week.” 
“That’s the important stuff?” she asked, feeling a little whiplashed. 
“It’s important to me.” 
Something in her melted. “I thought I’d pissed you off or something.” 
“No. I’m just –” he was just desperate is what he was, and the longer they were apart, the harder it was to hide it. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Quinn,” she said,
“Just want to have a conversation with you where I get to keep you to myself,” he confessed. 
“Is this your way of telling me you want to have phone sex?” she asked, her voice lilted with teasing. 
“I mean, I'm on a public street right now, which would be a little awkward, but if you want to get yourself off, I wouldn’t say no.”
She laughed, and he smiled at the sound.  
“So how was your week?” 
“Good,” she told him about the tour she’d given to a rowdy bunch of daycare kids, one of whom fell into the touch tank while trying to pet the sting ray on the other side, and the string of experiments that all failed until they hadn’t. 
It wasn’t as good as having her with him, but hearing her while he walked in such a beautiful place made her not being there more bearable than it had been. 
He told her about the snorkeling, making sure to let her know everyone in his family mentioned wanting her around so she could tell them what they were looking at. 
She smiled, thinking of the snorkeling cove she planned to take them to on K’awai. They’d get that chance, at least. 
“So what are you doing next week?” he asked. He knew they’d talk before then, but he liked to know her plans so he could mentally picture where she’d be.
“Going to Trav’s house tomorrow” she said, “and then I have to cram a bunch of stuff in on Monday since I won’t be back to work…” she trailed off, mentally cursing herself.  She’d managed to keep this secret from him for two months through two family vacations, and now she’d almost given it up twice in a span of less than twenty-four hours. 
“Why are you only working on Monday?” he asked. She hadn’t told him she had any big plans. He would have remembered. 
“I —” her mind raced. “They asked me to help out at the rehab hospital with Dr. Forrest,” she lied. They were real plans, but they wouldn’t be taking place for another few weeks. “He wants me to get more exposure to that side of things.”
“That’s awesome, Sar,” he said. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought Sarah was lying. She usually halted like that when she was lying. But why would she lie about this? She’d been wanting to break into the research unit for months. 
Sarah breathed a silent sigh of relief, glad to have dodged that bullet. 
“I wish you were coming here,” he said. 
“I know, Q,” she said, “but we’ll see each other soon.” It was the same answer she’d been giving him all summer. He just didn’t know soon would be much sooner than he expected. “And I’m glad you’re getting family time in.” 
The call continued as he made his way back to the house. They talked about nothing and everything and made plans for her trip to Michigan. 
“I can’t wait to show you the lake,” he said. “It’s so peaceful out there.” 
“It sounds really nice.” She knew Quinn loved it in Michigan and that it was more home than anywhere else for him. “I want to see campus, too.” 
He beamed. “I’ve gotta take you to Yost. It’s like…”
He was going to tell her it was like a cathedral, but she didn’t finish his sentence. He’d brought it up every time they talked about the Michigan trip. She liked the way he talked about it — with reverence and steeped in memory. It obviously meant so much to him, she couldn’t wait to see him there. 
“It’s like a cathedral,” he said dreamily.
“I can’t wait.” 
He was back at the house now. He could see Jack at the stove and his parents in the kitchen, preparing coffee. Luke must still be asleep.
Sliding into one of the metal deck chairs, he knew he needed to end the call but put it off a little while longer. Having to say goodbye was the worst part of any phone call with Sarah.
“Are you back at the house?” she asked. 
“How’d you know?” 
“It sounds different. And I can tell you’re not walking anymore.” 
Laughing a little, he marveled at her attention to detail. These little things made him feel seen, like she was really paying attention. 
“I guess I have to let you go,” she said, and he was glad she was doing the hard part this time. 
“I don’t want to,” he said, surprised to find there was no whine in his voice. It was just a statement of fact. He didn’t want to let her go.
“I know, but we’ll be together before you know it.” 
He was never doing a summer like this again. “Yeah.” 
“I love you, Quinn.”
“I love you, too, Sarah.” 
“We’ll talk soon?” 
“Yeah. Tomorrow?”
“Sounds perfect. I’m free anytime before four. I love you.” 
“Love you, too.” 
She even did the hardest part for him and hung up the phone. 
Sighing, he lay his head back against the cold metal of the seat as the hand holding his phone fell into his lap.
“Was that Sarah?” his dad asked, coming out to the porch with a mug of coffee.
“Yeah,” Quinn said, still looking up at the sky. 
“I’m sorry she couldn’t be here.” 
“Me too.” 
“You know Jack means well.”
“I know,” Quinn admitted with a sigh. “I just — I miss her, you know?” 
Jim hadn’t felt the kind of honeymoon love in a long time, but he remembered it clearly. Wanting to spend every moment he could with Ellen, and feeling like time without her was time wasted. Looking back on it now, it seemed like some kind of euphoric fever dream. He got glimpses of it every once in a while, but the settled, understanding, companionable kind of love he and Ellen shared now wasn’t something he’d be willing to give up for anything.
“You really love her, don’t you?” 
“Yeah, I do.” It felt nice to say it out loud to someone else. He knew he loved Sarah. He’d known for a long time, but to be able to voice it to someone else made it more real. 
 “I was actually wondering —” Quinn cut himself off. Was he really about to ask this question?
His dad nodded, encouraging him to go on as he took a sip from his mug. 
“If I could use grandma's ring?” he asked in a rush, forcing the words out before he lost the nerve. 
When his grandmother had died, she gifted a ring to each of her children. Jim walked out with her engagement ring, and the romantic streak in Quinn had always imagined using it as his own engagement ring when he found someone he wanted to marry.
Jim’s eyes widened in shock. He knew Quinn and Sarah were serious and likely headed toward marriage, but Quinn was usually more level-headed than this. 
“Not now!” he jumped to clarify, practically shouting. His voice grew softer as he continued to explain, “we haven’t even been dating a year. I don’t want to marry her right now, but I’ve never felt like this before, and I…I always imagined proposing with that ring.” Quinn felt a blush flood his cheeks with the admission. “I think Sarah would really like it. She’s not one to like something flashy, you know?” 
“I didn’t know you were even interested in that ring,” Jim admitted. He’d figured none of the boys would actually use it, and it would eventually go to one of their daughters-in-law if she thought it was pretty. More likely, he thought it would end up with one of his nieces. Ellen wore it occasionally on a night out, but the women his boys dated all seemed like they would like something more…well, something more. He agreed that Sarah did seem the type to want something more practical. 
“I just…” Quinn paused, trying to find the right words, “you always talked about one of us giving it to our future wife.”
Jim had no idea that sentiment had actually stuck. Plus, things were so different now that all of them had multi-million dollar salaries. Who would choose an old heirloom with a few small, bright diamonds over a giant rock like he saw most players' wives wearing?
“We’ll have to make sure it’s okay with your brothers,” he said. It felt sort of perfunctory, but he couldn’t just go giving something to one of them without talking to the other boys, too. 
He nodded.
“We could always ask now,” Jim offered, noticing Quinn playing with the fabric of his basketball shorts. It was one of his nervous tells. “I think Jack’s almost got breakfast ready.” That was something he’d never expected to say while on vacation, but the boys had all volunteered to cook breakfast as they were shopping. He knew, more than anything, it was a surefire way for each of them to get what they wanted at least once, but as a parent, he’d take what he could get. 
Quinn agreed. He wanted to have the idea settled. He’d been sitting with it enough now that he knew he wanted to marry Sarah. He wasn’t going to barge forward just yet. They needed to know each other through all four seasons and live together before he did, but as long as everything continued on the path it was on now, he wanted a ring on her finger. He wanted to make it official in every way possible.
The rest of the family was around the table when they walked back inside. 
“Took you long enough,” Jack huffed, going to the stove to bring over the eggs, bacon, and pancakes he’d made. 
“We were just talking,” Jim said casually, taking his seat across from Ellen. 
“Yeah?” she asked, spooning scrambled eggs onto her plate. 
“Quinn has a question for everyone.” 
They all turned to look at him expectantly. He should have known his dad wouldn’t let him off easy. He always wanted his sons to do the hard work.
“I…” he cleared his throat, “I was asking dad if I could use grandma's ring.” 
Before the freak out he could see building on Jack and Luke’s faces came about, he rushed to continue, “not now. I don’t want to propose now, but eventually. I’ve always wanted to use that ring.” 
Instead of a freakout, Luke’s fork clattered to his plate, exploding a small mound of scrambled egg over the table. “I want to use that ring,” he said, his voice on the cusp of a whine. He and Kylee had been dating the longest. They should have first dibs, even if Quinn was the oldest, and he and Sarah might be closer to actually getting married. 
“I’ve thought about it, too,” Jack admitted, staring down at his plate. 
Jim looked across the table to Ellen, who’s surprised expression mirrored his own. 
“I suppose,” Ellen said, “it would go to the first one of you to get married.”
“Hmm,” Jim pulled a face, “I don’t want any of them rushing into marriage just so they can have it.”
All three of his sons slumped into their seats in identical expressions of defeat. He almost laughed. Sometimes, it felt like they forgot who raised them. 
“Who gets it, then?” Quinn asked, pushing his eggs around his plate.
“Well, traditionally, it would go to the oldest, right?” Ellen asked, looking at Jim for backup. 
“That’s not fair!” Luke burst out, his youngest child whine coming out. “It shouldn’t go to Quinn just because he’s oldest. It’s not my fault,” he pointed a finger at his own chest, “I was born last!” 
A heavy silence spilled over the table.
“We could get copies made,” she suggested when Jim didn’t say anything, She wasn’t about to touch that with a ten foot pole. She’d always thought inheritance in male birthright order was stupid, but she didn’t have another solution.
Jack snorted, “yeah because that’s not weird.” As much as he wanted to, Jack knew he didn’t really have a claim in the conversation. Luke and Quinn both had serious girlfriends, and Jack hadn’t dated anyone for more than three months since he and Madison broke up. He felt so separate from his brothers in this and nearly suggested that he ought to be the one to get it since he was the only single one. They already had girlfriends. Why should they get thing ring, too? Even thinking it, he knew it didn’t make any sense. 
“What’s so weird? You all like it.”
“Because it belonged to grandma,” Luke said, “not because of what it looks like.” 
“If you can’t decide, you could all use it as your engagement ring - give it back after the wedding,” Jim offered. 
Quinn grimaced. Glancing up, he found an identical expression on Luke’s face. Jack was staring at his plate, forlorn.
“I hate that idea,” Quinn said when no one else spoke up. Then, he shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth to stop himself from saying something stupid like that he’d rather Luke have the ring than make Sarah give it back after they got married. If he said that out loud, Luke would jump on it — he would too if the roles were reversed — and he wasn’t ready to give up just yet. If it came down to it, he’d give it to Luke, but he wanted his shot. 
“Well,” Ellen said, stepping into the diplomatic role once again, “since none of you are ready to get married just yet, we have some time to figure out what to do.” 
“Yeah,” all three of them said in matching tones of resignation. 
They spent that afternoon at one of the most beautiful golf courses they’d ever seen. Luke won by one stroke, and Quinn couldn’t help but think Sarah would have taken them all to task if she was there. 
The next day found them at a small beach, trying to surf. The actual surfing wasn’t a problem. They all had excellent balance and wake surfed in the lake back home, but paddling out to catch a wave was exhausting. 
After fifteen or so attempts, Quinn decided to take a break and flopped onto the beach blanket next to Jack, who was reading a crime thriller Quinn had recommended to him. 
“Wha’d’ya think?” 
“It’s good so far. This Audrey woman is nuts.” 
Quinn laughed, remembering, “yeah, she gets worse.”
Jack didn’t think that could be possible, but it was fiction for a reason. 
When he finished the chapter, Jack shut the book and set it back in the big basket his mom had brought. She and their dad were on a walk. If he’d been following their progress correctly, they were the two little specks in front of the sandy cliff around the north side of the bay.
“I can’t believe you’re getting ready to propose to someone,” Jack said when he and Quinn had been sitting in silence for a while. 
“I don’t know that I’m getting ready, really.” 
“Whatever. Semantics,” Jack defended, waving away his rebuttal. 
Quinn laughed. “Can you call it semantics when it’s about a life altering question?” 
“I just mean like, you know, you know? I’ve never felt that way.” Truthfully, Jack always thought he would be the first one to get married. He was more outgoing than his brothers, and he’d had more girlfriends. Although he supposed this was probably one of those things where quality held more weight than quantity. At the rate things were going, he was likely to be the last. 
“Yeah,” Quinn agreed, leaning back on his elbows. He hadn’t expected to feel like this either. Comparing this summer to the one before was like comparing apples to oranges. Sure, they were both summers, but he felt so off kilter last year, and this year, other than wishing he and Sarah weren’t living apart, he felt settled. 
“It just seems right, you know?” he said with a shrug.
“I’m excited to spend more time with her,” Jack said. 
Quinn glanced at him, “when are you spending more time with my girlfriend?”
Oh, Fuck. Jack’s heart jumped into his throat, and he coughed, trying to clear it. “Just that…” he couldn’t believe he’d just said that. He was excited to spend time with Sarah, see how she was around just their family, but he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. They were only two days away from the surprise, and he was blowing it. He consciously stopped himself from slapping his hand to his forehead. A reaction like that would undoubtedly give him away. “I mean, she’s coming to Mich, right?” 
“Yeah,” Quinn said, sighing as he lay on his back. He’d put his t-shirt back on, but the sun still licked through the fabric, making him feel warm and sleepy. “Next month.” 
Glancing over, Jack was relieved to see Quinn relaxed. Either he was an excellent actor — doubtful — or he’d managed to redirect him enough to not be suspicious. It was time to change the subject.  
“You need to throw those glasses in the ocean, man,” Jack said, reaching over to pull the gold frames from his face. Jack knew he liked them, but everyone else agreed they were awful. He thought they made Quinn look like a finance bro. 
Quinn smacked his hand away. “I like them. Sarah likes them.”
“She does?” Maybe he needed to rethink his opinions of her. She apparently had worse taste than he thought. “Has she seen them?” 
Glaring, Quinn pushed himself up onto his elbows so he could get a better look at Jack, who was sitting with one of his legs bent, an arm loosely slung around it. 
“Yes. She’s —” he broke off. “I think she’s seen them.” 
Jack scoffed, “I don’t think she has. They’d give her the ick.” 
“Fuck off. I do not give Sarah the ick, I can promise you that.” 
“You don’t, but those glasses will. Just throw them in and get it over with.” 
“First of all, that’s bad for the environment. Secondly, I like them, and third, they were expensive.” 
Jack threw his hands in the air in defeat. “One day,” he said, pointing at Quinn, “One day I will make you see reason.” 
“Yeah, sure,” Quinn snorted. 
“Are we talking about Quinn’s fuck-ass glasses?” Luke asked, walking up to the blanket and dripping water over everything.  
“See?” Jack demanded, pointing at their youngest brother as Luke reached for a towel. 
By the end of the day, Quinn’s cheeks and stomach hurt from laughing so hard. He had to admit, it was really nice to get this time with his family away from training and the grind of daily life, even if Sarah was still in Vancouver. Now, more than ever, he understood why Jack wanted this vacation to be just them. 
Everything would figure itself out. They’d decide who got their grandmas ring, and Sarah would come to Michigan, and then move in when he got back to Van. And the next time a family vacation came around, Quinn knew Sarah wouldn’t get left behind. 
Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist
To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist
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themultifanshipper · 3 days ago
Note
i am ovulating so bad but can I request a franco x reader x ollie smut where they were fighting over the reader like that one fight scene from bridget jones' diary, and the reader was like... why not both??
To say the start of the 2025 season had been eventful was an understatement. 
Or at least from Franco and Ollie’s points of view. 
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Warnings: smut, threesome, blowjob (the return of Franco's dick sucking lips), mention of quickies, also a lot of alcohol, Yukierre being little shits, Ted kravitz once again making an appearance, very plot heavy ngl there's not much smut
At some point during the winter break, you had struck up a situationship with Franco. And you’d managed to keep it a secret for about a week. 
There was no such thing as privacy in Monaco, so of course it was inevitable that someone would eventually snap a pic of him leaving your house, and that was it. 
Ollie had been planning on asking you out at the start of the season, given that he now had a full-time seat and you'd be seeing a lot more of each other. 
And he didn’t really consider Franco much of a threat, so he decided to ask him during testing. 
The two of them were gazing at you from across the pitlane. 
“Are you and her like... an official thing?”  
Franco scoffed “What is that supposed to mean?”  
“You know... do you love her?” 
Franco frowned at him.  
“No, I don’t. But just because we aren’t in a relationship, do not think for a second that I will let you have her” 
Ollie raised his hands in surrender. “I didn’t say I wanted to. I’m just curious.” 
Franco didn’t believe him. And Ollie didn’t believe Franco.  
And they were both right. 
Because the truth was that Franco was in love with you, but he was too much of a pussy to do anything about it. So he was fine with just sex, until he could muster the courage to confess to you.  
And the truth was that Ollie was going to do everything he could to have you. He did have feelings for you, that had been brewing for a while, but the added element of competition made him hungry. 
Ollie was nothing if not proactive. He took every opportunity to talk to you, and flirt shamelessly with you. 
And at first, you were reticent. 
You’d been waiting for Franco to make a move. You liked him, a lot. And you knew he liked you. So any day now, right? 
Except weeks went by, and still no indication that Franco was going to make any kind of commitment to you. Not even a drunk phonecall, or a proper date... 
So eventually, Ollie's advances started getting to you. You were only human.  
You had no idea that the two drivers were in any kind of altercation in Melbourne. 
Someone had spotted them having a heated argument and a blurry video was circulating around the more remote spots of the internet, so you missed it completely. 
In China, you got your first indication that something was going on. 
Before FP3, Ollie had come to you saying he wanted to talk to you about something important. 
You told him to meet you in your drivers room after the session, and that you had something to talk to him about as well. 
His heart swelled with hope. Perhaps you also had feelings for him and he was finally going to beat Franco. 
But then, Franco was there, in your drivers room, waiting for you after the session.  
“I’m waiting for someone, you need to get out before someone sees-” 
“I don’t care about Ollie, I need you so bad right now” he groaned into your neck while his hands worked to get your suit off. 
He’d never done anything so bold before. And as soon as his hands and lips were on you, you caved. He had his way with you on the massage table, doing his best to get the sweetest, and loudest, noises out of you in an effort to ward any lurkers away. 
One of said lurkers, Ollie, froze when he heard the noises coming from your room.  
His heart sank, Franco had gotten to you first.  
This time. 
You and Ollie both did terribly on sunday. You weren’t expecting a podium, but some points would have been nice. And Ollie DNF’d thanks to one of the Alpines (in his mind he blamed Franco, even though the Argentine wasn’t even in a car) crashing into him in turn 2. 
So you and him did the only thing you knew would lift your spirits. You went out drinking. 
You ended up in some club, and you knew Yuki and Pierre were there as well. 
You drank, and danced with the three men. Forgetting your worries for a night. You hadn’t had that much fun in a while, Yuki and Pierre were absolutely unhinged when you got a bit of alcohol down them. 
Ollie stuck by your side the whole night, and eventually your mind went back to the FP3 session. 
You dragged him outside to talk (the club was stifling, and loud as fuck), and he wondered briefly if there was something wrong because of the haste with which you’d grabbed him. 
“Ollie, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about Friday. I got... distracted”  a blush crept over your cheeks. 
Ollie found it adorable. 
“That’s okay” he pulled you into a drunken hug “At least you were making so much noise there was no chance of me walking in on you” 
You giggled shyly, nuzzling into his chest.  
“Oh my god... that’s so embarrassing” 
“Well, I suppose that was Franco’s way of staking his claim” there was an undertone of something almost bitter in the way he said his name. 
That was a very odd thing to say. Why would Franco even need to stake a claim? Unless... 
“Let’s go inside, I’m cold” you muttered, and Ollie led you back to the booth where Pierre and Yuki were arguing over whether Mijiu or Baijiu tasted better. 
You had no idea what either of them were, so you ordered a round of both for everyone to do a taste test. 
They were both awful in your opinion, so you ordered a round of shots of tequila to wash them down. 
It didn't take long before all of you made your way to the dance floor, inhibitions completely obliterated. 
In the back of your mind, you had a plan. Granted you were on the edge of blackout drunk, but it still made sense to you. 
When the song changed to something a bit slower and more... sensual, you shuffled closer to Ollie.  
If Franco had been trying to stop Ollie from talking to you, there had to be a reason, right? 
So you moved to the beat, rolling your hips enticingly as you sang along to the words. 
Ollie lifted an eyebrow in question, his lips curving into a drunken smirk. 
You bit your lip and got closer, hooking your fingers into his belt loops to pull him in. 
He got into the rhythm very quickly, and slid a hand around your lower back to hold you close while you danced. 
The tension was palpable, but the chemistry was undeniable as you moved in sync, rolling your hips to the heavy bass pumping through the speakers. 
Your faces were inches apart, separated only by your mingling breaths, and the rapidly dwindling amount of restraint you two had. 
“Kiss mee” you slurred, smiling up at him. You needed to know whether he wanted you as much as you wanted him. As if the way you were grinding on each other wasn’t enough. 
“What?!” 
“Kiss me!” you said, louder. 
His mouth opened, hesitation written all over his face, but he glanced down at your lips. 
Between the alcohol and the noise of the club, it was impossible to hear anything, so you mistook his hesitation for misunderstanding. 
You decided to get your point across by curling a hand into his hair and pulling him down to crash your lips together. 
He quickly got over the shock of it and cupped your face with his hands to deepen the kiss. 
You didn’t know how long you stood there making out, but it was long enough for Yuki to come and tell you that he and Pierre were leaving and that you could all share an uber if you wanted. 
The miniscule part of your brain that was still rational decided that you and Ollie should go with them, so you did. 
You had what you wanted anyway. Confirmation that you had two boys that wanted you. 
Japan is where you realised just how badly. 
You didn’t know about their arguments over the weekend, you just knew that Franco was trying to have sex with you every minute of every day, and that Ollie had a smug smirk on his face constantly. 
It was unnerving, really. 
On sunday morning, your team made you aware that pictures were circulating, of two blurry figures kissing in a club in China, next to two people who looked suspiciously like Pierre and Yuki. 
It was impossible to confirm who the people kissing were so you had nothing to worry about, but your PR manager asked you to please, for the love of god, be more careful. 
The race came and went, and you and Ollie both finished in the points. 
Yuki was taking Pierre to a karaoke bar that night, and in true Yuki fashion, invited you, Ollie, and Franco. 
The little shit- stirrer. And of course you knew the idea was probably a Yuki-Pierre collaboration. 
It was a bit awkward at first, both Ollie and Franco were trying to get your attention under the table with wandering hands, but you quickly shut that down. 
You and Pierre were up. You were singing a duet version of ‘My Way’ but Pierre sang his parts in french. It was hilarious. 
Yuki jumped onto the table and joined in within seconds. 
You were so into it that you didn’t notice Ollie and Franco slip out.  
Until the song finished and you looked down to see that the leather seats were unoccupied.  
You decided to go and look for them, and it didn't take you long to find them. 
The shouting could be heard as soon as you shut the door to the private room. 
You followed the voices all the way to the men's toilets, in which the two were arguing. 
You pushed the door open and couldn't help but laugh at the sight in front of you. 
Ollie had Franco in what seemed to be an attempt at a headlock, but while one of his arms was around Franco's throat, the other was pinned under Franco's weight against the wall. 
“Oi!” you hollered at them and they immediately let each other go, attempting to straighten themselves out. 
Ollie had a swollen lip and Franco looked like he'd had an altercation with a plug socket. 
“What the fuck are you doing?!” 
“Nothing” “He started it!” “He said-“ 
“I don't care!” you shouted “get your asses back in there and behave!” 
You pointed towards the room sternly, and they quickly shuffled down the corridor with their tails between their legs. 
You managed to finish the karaoke without another incident, but you could feel the tension between them. 
The walls were closing in. It was becoming all too real to you all of a sudden. They both wanted you, and you didn’t want to choose, but you couldn’t exactly let them keep tearing each other to shreds over you. 
Shit hit the fan in Bahrain. 
They were behaving like animals. 
You couldn't speak to either of them without the other one getting jealous and pissing you off. 
Ollie didn't do FP1 because Haas had gave his car to a rookie for the session, which meant that both he and Franco were in the paddock during the session. Unsupervised. 
It came as a shock to everyone but you when they started openly brawling. 
You'd just got out of the car, and were getting weighed when you heard the commotion. 
“DON'T YOU DARE!”  
Crash. 
“MOTHERF-“ 
“YOU TWO STOP I-  OW!” 
You ran towards the two dickheads. Who were fighting in your garage. 
These two could not fight to save their lives. It was the stupidest brawl you'd ever seen. 
Your mechanics sort were hesitant to intervene, sort of standing around ready to step in as soon as there was any risk of them doing actual damage to each other. 
You didn't know who threw the first punch. You didn't care. 
The adrenaline was coursing through you so you went straight in, pushing the two struggling men down to the ground to destabilize them, then grabbed the shirt of the first one you could get your hands on. 
Which happened to be Franco. 
Someone next to you shouted “Yeah! Get your boyfriend!” 
“He is not my boyfriend, fuck off!” you shouted back. 
Your words had different effects. Franco’s heart broke a little, despite it being true, and Ollie now knew he had an undeniable chance. 
And everyone around you went “ouch” 
You dragged Franco away and threw him to the side, allowing Ollie to get back up and lunge at him. 
You blocked him, and slapped him, hard. 
You turned around and slapped Franco even harder. 
“Out of my garage, now!” you spat at them. 
They looked like they wanted to argue but you didn't even give them the chance. 
“I said, OUT!” you bellowed, and they looked at the crowd sheepishly before making their way out, in opposite directions. 
You didn't even entertain the small mass of people that were staring at you. You strutted to the back of the garage and made your way through the corridors to find a quiet place to think. 
You thought things couldn't get any worse, but of course, you quickly found out that a camera had wormed its way into the crowd and had broadcasted live the moment where you intervened and shouted at the person (who turned out to be Ted Kravitz) to ‘fuck off’. 
You were in your hotel room, looking through tweets about the footage, when a message popped up on your screen. 
“I'm sorry about earlier, can we talk?” 
It was Franco. 
“No” 
You left every subsequent message on read. 
About 10 minutes later a knock at the door interrupted you once again. 
It was probably your PR manager, coming to give you the 7th speech of the day about how “for the record, this is not what I meant when I told you to be more careful!” 
You looked through the peep hole and cursed loudly. 
It was Oliver fucking Bearman. 
You wrenched the door open. 
“What the fuck are you doing here? If anyone on my team sees you here we are both dead!” 
You dragged him inside and slammed the door shut behind him. 
“I wanted to come and explain-“ 
“No!” you whisper-yelled “There is nothing to explain! You and Franco have humiliated me, and yourselves today!” 
“But-“  
“There is no ‘but'! This shit stops now, I can't have my name dragged through the mud because you two wankstains decided it was a good idea to start fighting in my garage! Do you realise how that looks?” 
He looked at you guiltily and hung his head in shame. He looked almost small while sitting on the edge of the bed. 
“This whole thing has been a mess from the beginning! Because the truth is I like you both and I don't want to-“ 
You were interrupted by another knock at the door. 
Oh hell no. 
You stormed over to the door and wrenched it open again, revealing Franco in gray sweats and a dark hoodie. 
His attire told you everything you needed to know about his intentions right now. 
“Go away!” you hissed. “I told you I didn't want to talk” 
Franco glanced at Ollie still sitting on the bed and frowned. 
“So I am not allowed to be here but you invited him? That is not fair” 
“Oh for god's sake!” 
You dragged him inside, like you did Ollie, and motioned for him to sit on the bed. 
“You two are idiots!” You hissed. “What was that, today?” 
“We both wanted to go to your driver’s room to talk to you” 
“Yeah? And then you started fucking fighting!” 
“Because we love you!” 
“I can fucking see that, dipshit” you flicked Ollie's forehead “And thanks to you every motherfucker who watches Formula One also saw it, because you fought on live fucking television!” 
Ollie scratched the back of his neck sheepishly and Franco stared at the floor. 
And as if the universe hadn't punished you enough. Another knock rattled against the door. 
You turned around and watched in horror as your PR manager let herself in, and upon seeing the two men on the bed, stared daggers at them. 
“You two just don't know when to quit do you?” 
“I'm sorry about this, I didn't know either of them were coming they just turned up” you muttered. 
She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Well at least this all seems a bit more mature than whatever the fuck happened in the garage earlier” 
She turned to you. “I've smoothed it over for you, given that you'd just come out of the car, and according to the footage you actually stopped the fight, so you won't be getting any fines or penalties. Although I would refrain from telling any Skysports presenters to fuck off anytime soon. No matter how much they deserve it” 
She turned to the other two. “I however do not have the power to save either of you, so my guess is you will be informed by your teams of any fines you may be getting.” 
She eyed you all sadly. 
“Please sort your shit out. What you do, or do not do behind closed doors is none of my business, but please stop being idiots in public, it makes my job so much harder, and I am not paid extra.” 
The two drivers had the decency to look ashamed as they apologised to her. 
“On that note, I wish you all good night, and please don't break any furniture” 
And with that she smiled softly and left, leaving the three of you in silence. 
“You heard the woman” you sat on the chair next to the bed and crossed your arms defiantly “Let's sort it out.” 
They looked at each other helplessly and you rolled your eyes.  
“Come on, what do you want?” 
Franco piped up first. 
“I want you. All of you. I have been in love with you for months but I’ve been a coward…” 
You nodded, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his confession. 
You looked at Ollie. 
“I was planning on asking you out. But I got jealous when I found out you were with Franco… and then I uhhh… kind of made it into a competition. Trying to get you to like me back before Franco had the guts to tell you.” 
You hummed, not quite knowing what to say. 
“What about you?” Franco asked. “What do you want?” 
“I uhh…” you were almost intimidated by the two men staring at you. “Well… I like you both, so… either you can learn to share, or neither of you can have me” 
They looked at each other, seemingly having a silent conversation as they glanced back and forth between you and each other. 
The fact that they seemed to be entertaining the idea of sharing you was doing funny things to your brain. 
You imagined having them both at your mercy. Then your mind wandered to all the possibilities. 
The image of them making out briefly flashed in your mind.  
The butterflies returned to your stomach and you let your mind wander even further, Franco on his knees for Ollie.  
A voice suddenly pulled you from your thoughts. 
“Are you okay?” Franco asked, and you stared at his lips. They would look so perfect wrapped around- 
“Yeah, you look a bit flustered” Ollie chuckled. “What are you thinking about?” 
You bit your lip. 
“The two of you. Together.” 
A small blush crept up their necks and they squirmed uncomfortably. 
“We can share” Franco muttered, eyes darkening slightly. 
“Good” you smiled, standing up and slowly making your way towards them. “I want you both naked in the next 15 seconds…” 
They glanced at each other with wide eyes before hurriedly taking their clothes off. 
Once they were fully bare, they looked up at you expectantly. 
You grinned and swiftly sat down in between them. 
You pulled Franco in for a kiss, hands inching their way up the two men's thighs. 
You could feel Ollie's gaze on you so you turned your head and smiled at him before leaning in to kiss him. 
One of your hands went to touch Ollie's cock, which was half hard, and your other was met with Franco's hand, that he had already wrapped around himself while watching you make out with Ollie. 
You swapped again, Ollie's cock hardening at your touch, and at the sight of Franco pushing his tongue into your mouth. 
Then Ollie's turn came again, and he was fully hard by now, so you swept your thumb over his tip to make his hips twitch. 
You then stopped touching them altogether and leaned back on your elbows on the bed. 
“Now you two” you smirked. 
They looked at each other breathlessly, blush high on their cheeks and eyes lidded. 
They were hesitant, Ollie's hand weaved its way into Franco's hair to pull him in.  
It started out chaste, but still, the sight of it was truly something. 
You wriggled out from in between them and they looked at you in question. 
“Gonna lock the door” you muttered, jogging over to it. 
You heard a muffled “good idea” and turned to see them back at it, and this time with gusto. 
Their eyes were closed, so you undressed silently and climbed back on the bed. 
Ollie gasped into the kiss when Franco's hand made its way around his cock, squeezing gently before setting a slow, almost teasing pace. 
Franco trailed kisses along his jaw, making his way down Ollie’s chest, and the latter looked at you. 
His eyebrows jumped when he saw your state of undress. And went even higher when he noticed you were touching yourself. 
But it was quickly wiped from his mind when Franco’s lips suddenly made contact with his tip. 
He gasped, head whipping down to look at where Franco was kissing up and down his length.  
One of his hands once again found itself weaved into Franco's dark locks when the absolute tease decided to lick his cock from base to tip, while staring straight up at him through his lashes. 
“Jesus” he muttered “You've done this before haven't you?” 
Franco just winked, and took his cock halfway down into his mouth and sucked. 
The two of them looked ethereal, Ollie gasping for air while Franco sucked him down as far as he could go. 
Apparently Franco was doing something with his tongue, because Ollie kept throwing his head back and hissing. 
“Fuck- I'm not going to last long if you keep doing that.” 
Franco pulled off with a pop and smirked at him, pulling him in for another sloppy makeout. 
You were sitting there, two fingers deep inside yourself, and they were completely ignoring you. 
The irony of the situation made you scoff. 
“Guys… is either of you going to fuck me or…?” 
Ollie laughed and Franco started crawling up the bed towards you. 
“It would be my pleasure” he smiled. 
Ollie stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 
“Actually, I think you have fucked her enough, it's my turn now” 
He crawled up to you, and kissed you sweetly, pulling your hand away from your cunt and replacing it with his own. 
“God, watching us got you this excited?” 
You nodded shyly. “You two look really fucking hot together” 
He laughed, gummy smile making a brief appearance as he lined himself up, sliding his tip up and down your folds to tease you. 
“You ready?”  
“Of course” 
He slid home in one gentle thrust, and you moaned into his mouth when he leaned down to kiss you. 
Franco came to kneel next to your head and waited for you to take a breather before asking you to open your mouth for him. 
He slapped his cock against your tongue teasingly, and the wet noise caught Ollie's attention, who had been mouthing at your tits absentmindedly. 
Franco fucked you mouth in earnest, and when he noticed the pther man looking at him heatedly, leaned over to capture his lips in a bruising kiss... 
It was all over far too quickly, but the exciting novelty of the situation had gotten to them and they came together with a muffled whine. 
You then made them clean you up with their tongues, and the sight of both of their faces between your legs, taking turns lapping up your juices, just felt right. 
If they could share, and not be too obvious about it, then the rest of the season should be a breeze. 
You sent your PR manager a hefty check, with a note. 
“Thank you for putting up with our shit. It's been sorted <3” 
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