#ps: he was speaking french

[moonstaar]

It's almost midnight. I went out to buy some necessities. And that's when he passes me by. When I tell you my breath stopped. And when he glanced at me, goodness, my heart started beating insanely fast. This emotional cocktail of extreme fear, awe and admiration is rushing through my veins. This man is the most beautiful being I've ever encountered. There is something alien about him. He's so beautiful in an inhumane manner. He could be an angel and a devil at the same time. There's something feminine yet masculine about him. Sharpness underlined by tenderness and softness. His aura is trance inducing, there is something about the way he carries himself. The way his brown hair glimmers in the dark and his chest partly exposed, illuminated by the fluorescent street lights of the parking lot. Like crystalline. This ethereal being goes on his way. Rosé button down shirt, black slacks, continuing his phone call. And I am left with my heart beating out of my chest. I knew in that moment I had just fallen in love. And I knew, I would miss him. The imprint he has left on my soul within seconds, I know I will never forget him.

[screampied]

how jjk men react to you being quiet in bed and trying to hide your moans

ps: love your writing and I don't know if you've done this or not but respond when you can happy new year🎊

❛ JUST A TEASE! ❜

geto, sukuna, gojo, toji, nanami. jjk men dealing with a quiet s/o who hides their moans.

warnings. fem!reader, lots of praise, dirty talk, cunnilingus, hair pulling, overstim, hiding your moans, size kink, 18+

wc. 2.5k

an. happy new year !!!! and thank yew smmm.

★ NANAMI KENTO.

“everything okay?” he’d hum, and nanami’s got you riding him, two soft grasped hands latch onto your waist as you’re slowly lurching and bucking your hips against him. nanami ghosts a few fingers down your waist.

a sly teasing expression with the way he’s leaned back, his eyes trail from up to down as he sees your cute expressions. “you’re awfully quiet today, princess.”

and you were very much quiet, he raised his brows at the way you hide yourself into his neck, trying to deflect the situation by softly nibbling on his skin and he smiles to himself. 

“is the pretty baby shy to make noise?” he coos, his words were warm—full of tenderness with a tad of playfulness. you let off a soft gasp from the way he lightly grips a bit more on both sides of your waist. nanami makes you start to move your hips, bounce against him, your skin ricocheting from each thrust and you’re so full, pumped full of his girth you can’t even think clearly. “you don’t gotta hide from me. ‘s just me, hon. your moans are adorable, y’know?”

you pathetically nod, feeling yourself throb from not only his sloppy hits against you—but his words, the way he was so soft and tender with his praises. 

“i-i know,” you muttered, your arms went around him and he softly chortles, brushing his thumbs against your hips—creating a pattern-like trace of circles against your skin, giving your sweet curves all types of attention and touch. “i just don’t wanna be so loud. it’s…embarrassing.”

“embarrassing?” he repeats, and he’s still leaned back. nanami’s so pretty, blond hair slightly ruffled, a few beads of sweat run down the sides of his head as if they were in a competitive race with each other. 

he’s balls deep to where you slip out a moan from feeling his tip kiss against that spot that always gets you weak. “oh, don’t say that,” he happily sighs, there was a sparse glimpse of sparkle in his eye and he smiles. nanami lightly tilts your chin up to bring a kiss towards your lips. “you could never be embarrassing, my love. if anything, your sweet moans and whimpers are quite adorable. the way only i can make you sound like that makes me feel a certain type of way.”

“really?” you’d moan, squeezing your glossed lips together. 

“really, princess.” he reassures you, your entrance felt as if it was nearly at its limit, nanami’s cock stretched and stretched against you as you felt him throb—giving him a subtle glance. you could spot his sharp jawline, and the perfect way of how it clenched and tightened. you made him so aroused, for a brief moment he stared away before pulling you towards his chest. 

you choke out a whimper, pressure building up inside of you, how filthy it was at the way his tip french-kissed your g-spot, a sloppy smooch with the head of it — you’re spasming, you’re stupid. 

“k-kento, ‘m gonna cum...” you’d gasp.

“can’t hear you pretty girl,” he groans, peppering a few kisses near your face. ��i wanna hear you. speak up, wanna hear that voice talk to me nice.”

once you end up creaming down his shaft for a second time. you’re shaking, a mess and he has to hold you in his arms. a warm smile on his lips as your body lifelessly rocked against him.

not exactly moving your hips anymore—you panted, tugging on the front fabric of his shirt before slumping your head against his chest.

“aww, my poor baby’s all exhausted, hm? there there, ‘s okay. i got you, kento’s got you.”

★ GOJO SATORU.

the moment he figures out you’re trying to be quiet purposely — hiding your moans. a hand covering your mouth he grows confused, yet it turns to straight cockiness. 

“heyyy, don’t be like that,” he purses his lips, you’re laid flat on your back with your legs just lightly pushed apart. just open and spread just for him and only him. “hiding your pretty moans from me? aw man, that’s no fun, princess…”

and he gives you a faux pout your right hand that wasn’t occupied, your nails dug into the depths of his skin, marking up his pale toned arm.

gojo looks down at you, one hand lightly pressing against your tummy to feel how good he was fucking you. 

“m-mhm s-sato—,” you’d pant, again and again. your pussy gripped and hugged tight against him. a bear hug practically. your walls grew out to be so needy, suffocating yet you get cut off your words once he grabs your chin. a thumb swipes against the tiny drool seeping down the corner of your mouth. 

“don’t hide from me.” he murmurs. he’s real slow with his movements against you, slow and steady. 

his bare chest presses against you, and he’s so hot, his heat radiates against your skin, almost as if he was sticking against you. “don’t cover that pretty face. matter of fact,” and then he pistons his thrusts—a hand running up and down your waist, squelches of your cunt ringing through your ears like a bell. “moan in my mouth. gimme a little kiss,” and then he teasingly puts a finger against his lips. “riiiight here, baby.”

his body jerks against yours and gojo brings you into a deep kiss once you lean. his tongue traces against yours, heaving before he starts moaning into your mouth from your sweetened taste.

“sweet girl,” he’d grunt, you could feel his erectness practically plug you full. whilst gojo’s chest pressed against yours, he started to grind slowly against you. your lips parted a bit, eliciting a needy moan from your throat.

it was the way your legs trapped his slim waist, easily locking around. you gasped — feeling gojo move your hand from your face, pinning them towards the sides, and you felt that dumb coy smile of his tug against the corners of his lips.

he smiles at how you start to cover your mouth again, but he moves your hand away. “so damn shy for nooo reason,” he teases. with a blindfold half on, gojo he playfully tugs on the band, clicking his tongue with a swift head shake. “ah ah, i wanna hear you.”

and you grew out to be more flustered the minute he pulls away from kissing. strands of spit depart your lips and his. leaning into your neck to softly, gojo nibbles against your skin all to just to drag out more noises from you.

“think ‘m gonna laugh at your orgasm or somethin’?” he whispers against your skin, still buried deep—inches inside your pussy that gripped and clamped down on him before he giggles at the way you nod. “aw. i won’t do that. ‘m not that mean.”

“promise?” you mumbled.

his thrusts, so fulfilling. it was so deep, reaching directly into those spots to make you your brain short circuit. swallowing thickly, you end up cutely tugging on his arm.

he chuckles. “oh i promise, baby,” and then he plants a kiss near your nose—cheek—then near the corner of your mouth, finally locking his fingers with yours. “be as loud as you want, if it helps, i’ll be loud with you,” and then he runs a hand down his back. “just…not too loud because it’ll be the seventh time the erm…neighbors complain about us, heheh.”

★ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

“what’s with you?” he raises a dark brow, your back’s being pressed against his chest.

riding him in reverse and you’re so quiet….

dragging a few nails lightly against his thigh and he gives the right side of your neck a few playful bites. “you’re not all whiney like ya usually are.”

his words were so smooth and sly against your neck, delicately brushing against your skin.

he throbs inside you, and you clamp and clamp down on him. you’re so dizzy—yet you seclude your moans by pressing your glossed lips together, only cute faint soft mutters of moans slipping out here and there.

“…woman,” he grunts, pausing your hips, your eyes briefly widen at the feeling of sukuna’s big hands hold your waist in place—a single shift of his thigh, and you felt his girth expand deep inside your walls. “aw don’t don’t hide from me now,” he smiles, a mere softness gliding against his deep tone.

you started to cover your face with your hands from how embarrassed you were—yet sukuna grabs your hands and chuckles. the way the tips of his fingers graze against you make you tingle. you pulsed so much—it got you off to where you felt yourself start to salivate, all from his touch and words.

“you know better than to not hide your pretty voice,” he murmurs, softly sinking his canines into your neck. nibble after nibble, you panted. a whimper leaves your throat once he starts to bounce his thigh. “or…should i stop?”

“n—no,” you choked out, a swift head shake. the way he softly sucks against your skin, gentle fangs softly seeping into your neck before giving your neck a few sweet kisses. “kuna- don’t stop.”

“i would,” he hums with a chortle. deep voice full of smug and satirize. and his cock was just idle against you. at this point you were cockwarming him, and you wanted to move but he had your hips still. “but i guess someone thought it was a good idea to hide their pretty moans from me.”

he was such a tease—you felt yourself burn up once he drags a a hand down between your legs to rub a few good circles against your clit, maneuvering his fingers, and you’re so wet….

it was sloppy.

squelch after squelch. you whimpered, gripping onto his hand to make him rub harder but then he chuckles, lightly swatting your hand away. “oh…?you like that? or you’d prefer for me to finish?”

“f-finish, ‘kuna..”

“then moan for me,” he whispers, giving your skin a soft suck. sukuna starts to bounce his thigh again and you whine. nails piercing into his thighs, you hit your lip before letting off a moan. “see, that wasn’t so hard, now was it, brat,” and he helps you start to grind your hips against him. reaching so deep, your head fell back against him and he lowly guffaws. “yeah, be loud. don’t care who here’s, ‘s just you and me.”

★ GETO SUGURU.

he’d be propped up in between your legs, eating you out like a starved man. you have the courtesy of tying his long, pretty hair back for him.

a few minutes had past yet he was taking his precious time, pressing sweet kisses against your cunt.

you felt yourself throb and flutter, gripping onto his hair and he has a smile.

“love pullin’ on my hair, huh?” he mutters, swiping a thumb against your slit. you happily coat him with your slick than ran down his chin. you gave him a pathetic nod, and you shiver, lips parting from the way geto presses his tongue against your labia — giving it lick after lick.

geto’s raises a brow at the way you’re covering your mouth with a hand, just barely keeping eye contact with him.

he plants a chaste kiss against your pussy before pausing briefly. breaking himself away and now you pout. “…hey,” he murmurs, a coy cunning voice. “stop that, baby.”

“s-stop what?” you hitched, your legs feeling warm. he was so sloppy with his tongue, yet gentle.

“girl, you know what i’m talking about.” a subtle eye-roll, geto sits up from between your legs. his tone was now filled with playfulness yet a bit of sass.

you stare down at him, a few strands occluding his view of vision.

tightly holding onto his hair, he stares at your pussy then at you.

“you’re being all timid and shy. c’mon, ‘s just me. i wanna hear how good i make you feel,” and then he slowly lays his tongue flat against your cunt. “…so…let….me,” he paused between speech. using two fingers to lightly spread open your folds, geto laps his tongue again to taste your sweet. “—finish my meal, and lemme hear you.”

“o-okay.” you stuttered. gritting your teeth for a split second, your legs felt numb and not even moments later.

he ends up coaxing yet another orgasm out of you, your mind goes blank. you were so loud.

he couldn’t help but chuckle at you, how cute you were. with the way your body jerked and squirmed all because of his tongue.

geto gives your pussy a good suck, he knows all the right spots to swirl and run his tongue across.

“there it is,” he hums, and his head goes forward before you yank a bit too hard between your legs. “e-easy, sweetheart. don’t pull my hair out now.”

★ FUSHIGURO TOJI.

toji grunts — two rough hands attached to your waist as he’s got your head pressed against the mattress. you’re biting the sheets with your teeth, strained moans being secluded entirely and toji immediately notices, you feel the curve of his dick throb against you. it was so good, your eyes rolled all the way back, toji’s got your wrists in a good hold before he pauses his sloppy thrusts.

“hmph.”

“w-why’d you stop..” you spat out, your voice was a bit shaky and muffled….solely from the way your teeth tugged against the sheets.

toji’s stubborn and doesn’t reply, and instead, he makes you move your ass up just a bit—yet he pulls out, and you gasp at the feeling of him just rubbing his leaky plump tip against your inner folds.

a few inches and he'd be right back in. you cringed. and you started to whine, face down and ass up, your body felt so hot and tingly.

“t-tojiiii..”

“w-whattt..”

he mocks your voice, and you let off a frustrated sigh, he butchers your tone in the most dramatic way. you don’t even sound like that. “aw, getting frustrated, ey? how come y’er biting the sheets. ya don’t want me to hear you or somethin’—?”

your eyebrows contorted together, and you huffed out a needy breath, back starting to arch idly. “no,” and you feel the tips of your ears grow hot at a scorching temperature—his tip, it was rounded and fat, just swiping against your folds. with just a bit of a push he’d be back inside, but he kept sliding out. “toji, f-finish…finish fucking me.”

“say please.”

you pout, your cheek pressing into the mattress now—desperately craving him to continue. “please…”

“silly girl. ya forgot to say pretty please.”

“toji….” you moaned, craving to feel him again, and he caressed his fingers against your ass, teasing you—a single playful click of his tongue, and he’s got you wrapped around his finger. he starts to make you rollick and move your hips against him, still holding your hips. you grumbled, finally letting off a moan—just wanting him to not tease and finish. “pretty please.”

“good girl,” he purrs softly, dipping his hips against you just slightly before you sit your head up. “now now, lie back,” he mutters, and he starts to go back inside again, a good squeeze and fit and you let off a soft whine once his cock hits there.

you’re seeing blanks, mouth open and all, you whimper before you start getting louder. “there we go….use that whiney voice, jus’ like ya always have, doll.”

[goldsbitch]

monaco kiss .wav

Lando's mildly exhibitionist dreams came true. Due to genius sound engineering, the world can now listen to him and his girlfriend having sex, without a clue it's them.

the track mentioned and referenced (no need to listen to it to get the story, go and be free): French Kiss - The Original Underground Mix, Lil'Louis, The World (credit where credit is due)... 05:30 is the timestamp

word count: 7k

warning: smut, minors DNI, p in v, oral sex, voice notes, colapinto level amount of the word "mate"

PS: i rarely do, but I fuckin love this one

If there was ever a place where Lando could spend hours and hours on end, it was the blue couch at Martin Garrix's personal studio. That piece of furniture was the peak of comfy. He'd asked many times where he got it - if only Martin could remember that.

The whole studio has a cozy vibe around it. A safe space for the F1 star to escape the ever-present eyes of the public, a timeless place where he could wind down and sit passively, while his friend digged notes for hits of the future. They'd often sit for hours in silence, just winding down.

To Lando's joy, the ultimate friend chemistry he had with Martin also worked for him and his, not-so-new-anymore, girlfriend Y/N. In fact, the moment these two met, it was clear that Y/N would quickly become a frequent member of their private recording sessions.

But this time, she had to be in a different city due to work, so it was just the boys, the olden days. Back when Lando would actually dabble in DJ'ing. Those days were long gone, but...It wasn't a rare thing that Lando would help and brainstorm ideas, chord progressions or effects applied to the tracks. What the public didn't know was that he was a loud creative force behind some elements in Martin's recent tracks. Lando had almost threatened him, urging to keep this behind closed door. He wasn't gonna Leclerc this one out.

"You look beat, mate," said Martin finally after nearly two hours of staring into track nods. Lando finally looked up from his phone.

"I'm waiting for you to be done, bro," he replied simply, reffering back to their debate regarding this latest track. A pause. "You know my opinion."

Max turned around to face him, only to find a signature overplayed smirk looking back at him. "You know what, I'm a fucking renowned producer, and you have the decency to come and tell me my track is shit?"

Lando did not flinch. This as a fairly normal way they'd speak together. "Well, someone apparently has to," he shot back, challenging Martin to flip out.

"Screw you," he replied and turned back to face his three monitors. Lando waited patiently, knowing that this was his signature first reaction to criticism. He always came around eventually. Max was his friend. And he would do everything to stop him from releasing crap. "Ok," he heard the DJ say, caving in to his doubts. "I am too deep in this track anyway. Tell me what you think."

"Mate, you said you wanted to do something more experimental. You forgot to add boring," Lando deadpanned.

Martin sighed loudly and leaned back to his chair.

"Don't get me wrong, I fucking love how you go from like - what, 120bpm?-"

"135-"

"Yeah, whatever," Lando said, not happy when Martin used his i-know-music-theory-and-you-don't tone. "As I was gonna say, the come down from the fast tempo to the painfully slow one, in the middle of the track, kind of works. It's certainly nothing like I'd heard play anywhere lately. But like, there is nothing in the production that makes it stand out? Like no real build up or interesting sound."

Lando knew it was brutal from him. But he wasn't there to pat his friend on the back. Just like Martin would never fake compliment his on a bad race. To Lando, this was peak friendship.

Martin hit quick save and closed the file abruptly, startling a minor panic in his friend. Did Lando overstep?

"Come on, mate. Don't copout now."

Martin was visibly startled. "Maybe I just need to put this one down for a moment. Lando did not know what to say to that. He might be right.

"Cig break?"

//

They were standing at the small balcony connected to main entrance to the studio, cigarette smokes mixing together. Yeah, Lando did enjoy an occasional smoke break with his friend. A guilty pleasure one might say.

"So, what was the starting point of the track?" he couldn't help but ask, still not happy to see his friend aborting something he'd spend hours on.

Martin gave him an annoyed look, but did not hesitate to reply. "Remember how the conversation I had about techno tracks being awfully predictable?."

Lando eyes shot up. "Wait, that weird chick you ran into in Germany?"

Rarely would Martin blush, but today was a lucky day apparently. A mocking snort came as a reaction from his friend. "Mate, I don't remember ever seeing you so flustered because of a girl." Few weeks ago, Martin had the fortune of meeting someone who he called "the love of his life" in a random club. And that girl had the audacity to leave him on read for hours. Him, Martin Garrix. Infuriating.

"Yeah, well, fuck you. She was real cool, alternative and reminded me of why I got into music in the first place. Let's revisit how insufferable you were when you met Y/N." Lando exhaled, forever happy anytime anyone ever brought up him and Y/N meeting. If it were up to him, that would be the only thing he's talk about. Getting to know her was like the best kind of drunk one can get. Tipsy enough to make everything fun and perfect, and not too much to get lost in it.

"Fuck off, I was never as insufferable as this," he defended, deep down knowing he might have been even worse. But, he and Y/N ended up dating. Poor Martin was desperate even for a reply.

"Whatever," Martin remarked and put his cigarette out in the overflowing ashtray. This small gesture reminded Lando why he was friends with this guy, the precious safe-space he managed to create. If there was a moment to act as a friend, it was this one.

"Shut up and let's get back to the track. We just gotta let loose a bit, that's all," he said, determined to get Martin out of the rut of his own head.

//

They'd been sitting for another hour, the sun long gone from their sight, two vodka soda's mixed from personal studio bar in, dozens of old tracks analyzed.

Martin played the middle section once again. Lando's head was mindlessly nodding into the beat they'd added and it was starting to look kind of good for the track. But it was not exceptional. And if Lando was trying to help Martin get the attention of some pseudo-pretentious alternative chick, they had to step up their game.

"Can you recall any track which uses the same level of tempo slow down? We could like, I dunno, look into why it works when other people did it and maybe something will come up." Lando often drew inspiration from other artists, something Martin usually hated. But, desperate times.

The racer watched the DJ and suddenly, as it was as if the musical equivalent of the DRS just hit him, his eyes went wide and he stood up.

"Of course!" Martin exclaimed and started pacing around the room. Lando was obviously surprised and kept still, hoping for the best, really. He watched his friend, walking back and forth around the room, deep in his own thoughts and searching for something on his phone.

"Yes! That's it," he finally said happily and put a song up to their loud speakers. The excited look he gave to Lando was almost scary. "You're gonna absolutely love this one," he continued with absolute confidence.

Lando prayed for this to be good, otherwise he was going to have to start getting worried about his friend's sanity, based on the crazy eyes.

The song started with a steady, four-on-the-floor beat (or that was what Lando had assumed). It was a typical 1980's techno track, fast, repetitive with a strong bass line.

But they were almost four minutes in and nothing that would stand out in any way was coming out of this track. Lando could not help but give Martin a doubtful look, not really getting what he was excited about. But Martin was there, nodding his head to the beat, in his own world. He must have sensed Lando's so-far-unimpressed expression, so he shot him a quick smile and gestured for him to wait. Finally, something started to happen and just like in Martin's new track, the music started to slow up on the tempo, quite dramatically. It got Lando somewhat hooked. And then-

And then! He thought he was imagining things. That his mind created sounds in his own head out of boredom.

Instead of a new instrumental added a vocal component was added. The most sensual female moan started to dominate the track, as the tempo kept slowing down. Lando felt his stomach dropped and hair and the back of his neck stand. It was sensual, almost vulgar in fact. Like some sort of elegant porn track playing over the original beat. Unapologetic. And it was increasing. What started as a somewhat socially acceptable sigh, turned into a full on orgasm moan - and as the music almost stopped, the female voice was taking on the main stage, full on peak. Thank God the walls were sound proofed. Lando cock was twitching. He tried to ignore Martin, who was grinning like a school boy first time seeing a porn video. And once the voice finally reached a peak, the music started to pick up, leftover moans cutting through the beat. Only then was Lando able to look Martin in the eye and got out of the semi-trance this track got him into. Finally the tempo fully picked up and the nine minute song was over.

"Uhh..." Lando got his initial reaction out and stared into the screen. Martin was there, unable to contain his laughter.

"You look flushed, mate, you good?" he teased, obviously pleased with himself for getting Lando out of his comfort zone.

Lando was finally getting back to Earth and couldn't help but to release a girl-like giggle. "Yeah, mate...I think if you do something like that, you will break the internet almost definitely."

What Martin could not know, because they did not have that kind of a relationship, was that Lando's phone was full of noise recordings of him and Y/N having sex. She was quite a vocal person. And he was a bit of a naughty boy, asked for a permission to record a sex tape nearly dozens of times. His girlfriend was probably right in refusing to do so, given the fact that if a video got out, it would be a disaster for both of them. But, an audio? One without any names mentioned? That was something she felt comfortable. And it as this thing Lando was using to get himself off when he was traveling alone for the past few months. So yeah, Martin hit the nail on its "head" with this one.

Lando gulped, trying to get himself back in the right headspace and not thinking of all the times Y/N screamed and moaned for him while bent over a table or laying in a silky bed.

"I fuckin' love this idea, mate. I'm gonna check with the lawyer team and see if I can go and sample this or something," Martin said, his tone indicating he was happy and done for the day.

"Yeah. This would work," Lando replied, unable to tone his voice down to his usual octave.

//

It was a surreal plane trip home to Monaco. They'd wrapped at the studio and Lando was headed directly to airport. This was proving to be unfortunate, as there was no time for him to go anywhere and take care of the problem growing in his pants. He had never listened to their voice notes in public, but he could not find any sort of self-restraint not to do so that day. Shamelessly walking around the private lounge area with a ragging boner and sex noises blasting in his headphones. He prayed for no fans showing up. At one point he was debating just beating it off in the airport bathroom. A teenager he had not been for a long time now.

And like a cruel joke, a voice memo landed in his messages from Y/N precisely at the time he as about to board his flight.

A part of him hoped it was a voice note of her jerking off. Sadly, it was not.

"Hey, my love, I hope you're all good and will make the flight. I've had such a boring day and can't wait to see you," she said a tone so sweet Lando felt almost guilty for walking around with thoughts of her on all fours, begging for his cock. It brought him back to normal, which was probably for the better. "Anyway, I'll be at home, let me know when you're coming." He smiled, loving the fact they were there for each other even in the innocent sort of way. "Aaah, what a day," she ended the voice note with a moan. A fucking tired sort of sigh. Normally, it would be a very casual thing for Lando. But did it sound like something out of their sex tapes? Of course it fucking did. "Mmmm.." And with that, the voice memo ended and Lando's boner was right back on.

//

"Hi, my love."

"Hello, sweetheart."

It was something he was proud about. Teaching her to sleep naked. Sleeping in clothes is close to committing a crime when she has a body like that. Clothes were for the outdoors anyway. It was doing something to his ego to see she fully accepted that. To his luck, he found Y/N just like he wanted - bare, snuggled up in their bed under a criminal amount of duvets, but most importantly, given his current state, still somewhat awake. She was giving his the most inviting look he'd ever seen on a human.

"Are you hitting the shower?" Y/N asked, pushing the duvet closer to her neck, as if to cover herself for some reason. Lando found that more than amusing and shook his head.

They'd exchanged few pleasantries, mundane questions while we was undressing and finally crawled into the bed with her. As a natural move, she shifted, letting him to be the big spoon. He caressed her hair before stepping in. Changed his tone from casual to bedroom. Finally.

"You and me baby, just us. How it's suppose to be."

Flirting was a second language to Lando and he was not afraid to use it.

"I see you kept the bed warm for us," he said, warmed his hands by blowing his hot breath on both of them. When he was sure that his body adapted from the chilly outdoors air to their hot flat, he started tracing lines on her body and pressed his crotch to her ass, to test her reaction, and see if he got lucky and caught her in the right mood.

He wouldn't be able to see it, due to the fact he was spooning her from behind, but her eyes shot wide open as his ragging boner pressed on her and a cheeky smile crept in. She answered by moving back to him, and arching her back. Loud, horny sighs from Lando followed.

"I see you've been a good boy, am I right?" she whispered sensually.

And fucking yes, he was a good boy. She'd often reward him when he manage to obstain from jerking off when they were suppose to see each other. If he had been hard before, they would need to come up with a new name for what he was experiencing after hearing his hard work being acknowledged.

He gulped, trying to keep his some cool in his voice. "You can guess twice," he challenged and pushed his body towards her, squeezing his dick between their bodies. She giggled and turned on her back to face him. Tried to kiss him slowly, but he was having none of that. Once the door was opened, he took the lead and kissed her with all of his pent up hunger. His hands were holding her jaw in place, as if she was going to slip away - which was the exact opposite of her plans. Soon enough she kissed back with similar urgency, roaming her hands on his chest and pulling his ever-so-curly hair.

"I need you," she whispered when he reached away to take in some air.

He grinned, happy to have some sort of level of upper hand, given how down bad he actually was.

"Have you been a good girl, sweetheart?" he asked, expecting the same answer he gave her. His cheeky fingers started exploring her upper thighs.

She waited a moment. "No, I haven't," bit her lip. This took Lando as a surprise and he opened his mouth in disbelief.

"Well, would you look at that..." he said, secretly loving this side of her. Horny little angel, getting herself off. In his mind, it was like she'd been training for him. He gripped her thigh, making her gasp.

"I think you might still find some evidence on the sheets," she whispered, and it was exactly that sound that was a turning point of Lando. He flipped over to tower her and slammed his lips towards hers. He opened her legs with his hands and started exploring her core - and it was exactly as she said it. Still wet from her on fingers, as he'd imagined.

"Well then, we'll do this on my terms. You understand?" he said in a playful tone. "What are you?"

She knew what answer he was looking for. "Bad girl," she sighed as he fingered her in a way that could not be described as gentle. Soft moans started escaping her mouth and that was the main thing Lando was longing for.

"And what am I? For keeping myself full for you?" he asked, trying to keep her on the edge with his moves.

Her eyes were now shut and her arms locked around his back, same as her legs. "Good boy," she sighed.

"Exactly. So do me a favour," he said, kissing her again, "be loud for me tonight. Make my ears ring and wake up the neighbours. Otherwise I'll make sure you don't get what a good girl gets." Both of them knew there was not a single cell in Lando willing to keep his empty promise. She was going to finish multiple times and he'd work for it the whole night if he had to.

Back arched. Lando's fingers doing the God's work. "Yes," she almost choked on her breath and let out an honest and beautiful sound.

It was already getting too much for Lando, he stroked himself few times and then slid into her wet cunt, as if it was his home.

And boy, was it better than any home he'd ever know. He warm wet, almost dripping cunt welcomed him in the sweetest of ways. Lando waited few seconds for both of them to adjust before he gripped her legs and swung them over his shoulders. It was a dance they'd practiced countless times before. She knew to clench her legs and provide support for him to be able to fully start launching into her.

He gave her one more lustfilled look before he thrusted for the first time. The thing he was specifically looking forward was the way how the breath escaped her throat in almost surprised way - as if she was not expecting this to happen. Pure pleasure overruled any thoughts he was having pretty quickly. The way her walls clenched over him was a sensation very few things could compare to. It was so easy to start moving faster and harder. He lived for the sight of her, lying down beneath him, eyes closed and finally, after few more perfectly placed movements, first moans started to escape her lips. He wanted more, tonight he needed it all. Speeding up, gripping her legs tighter. And with that, he watched as her boobs were bouncing back and forth, a sight so glorious he had to put one of his hands on it. All that she was somehow trying to hide in, started to come out. Face stuck in a scream like position, hands gripping Lando's arms and the most glorious of it all - the silent moans growing into muted screams. And once he added even more speed, those turned into unhinged screaks. He didn't even notice him own mouth stuck open. Breaths were getting heavier and heavier, drops of sweet sweat were falling on her torso and slowly Lando moved his hand over to from her boobs to the crease of her neck and squeezed just a little bit, the way he knew she liked. He didn't mind that the sound she made got a little muffled - he could feel the sound coming from her throat before it left her body.

And then finally, Lando felt almost a hot liquid hit his dick and gradually bounce over to his lower stomach as he moved even quicker than before, knowing well enough that when this happened to her, the incoming orgasm was about to be glorious. He thrusted, fully focused on her expressions and loud screams.

When her release happened seconds later, he nearly came himself. By some miracle, he managed to hold it of for just few more minutes. He kept thrusting, while he felt her body collapse momentarily, complete hard shut down. More liquid came out of her and Lando wished he could fuck and lick her at the same time.

And just like that, she was back again, panting hard and finally, eyes open once again. Her fucked out face challenging him once again. She smirked and tried as much as he could to keep up his tempo. It always took her one orgasm to bounce back and become more active. Lando wished he could go on for hours, but his dick almost begged him to allow the release. He wasn't gonna deny himself pleasure tonight.

"Say my name," she said in a loud demanding tone, stern look on her face. He wanted to chuckle, always finding it amusing how she went from almost a comatose princess to a challenging boss girl in seconds. After he made her come, of course. But Lando's mind was truly getting blurry at that point. He kept saying her name as like some sort of prayer as he carried himself to the heavenly release. It was the ultimate relief, dipping in a hot water, getting charged with electricity, tasting the sweetest drink, stepping into the hottest sunshine. Whatever kind of pleasure Lando could think of, nothing would ever mount to finally releasing it into her, especially after a long, oh so long, build up.

And with that, he fell next to her. Heave panting on both sides of the bed, before either of them spoke.

"All good? Are you ok?" he asked, just like he always did after they'd slept together. The thought of her not having a good time haunted him. He was aware that it sometimes came out more anxiously than he intended to, but who has a proper working brain after a sex session.

Y/N turned at him, blissful smile on her lips. "Oh yeah, baby. Love when you come home like this."

He smirked, getting some of the blood back to his brain. "Hmm, I also love coming home."

Their fucked out minds chuckled at the stupid joke. He gathered all the remaining strenght, got up and cleaned her up.

"Oh God, I've missed you," she complained into the no quiet room, still filled with sex air.

"You have no idea, how much I did, sweetheart."

//

It had been a good few weeks before Lando found himself once again in Martin's studio. This time Y/N was able to join him on the iconic couch. They sat, her legs relaxed over his, Lando's hand stroking her shins innocently. Physical touch boy if there ever was one.

Light banter laced the evening, few sips from Martin's signature vodka sodas and general lightness of the company were bound to end up with Martin sharing his latest relationship news. The alternative girl he met in Germany? Yeah, that was over. However, the track was definitely not.

"Ok, but like, I'd never seen you this anxious about a new track before," Y/N spoke, feeling like there was something these two guys were walking around, somewhat afraid to say hat it was.

Martin and Lando shared a look. There was not a single bone in Lando's body that was afraid of Y/N reaction to this track. He way in fact dying to know what Martin has done with it in the past few weeks. Martin was not allowed by his label to send any demos, only to show them in person. Well, he was not even allowed that, but it's not like they were there with them in the room. Martin raised his brows while looking at Lando, as if to look for a permission. Lando nodded, secretly looking forward to seeing what Y/N had to say about their newest idea.

"Well, I'm actually still working on a track we tried to finish when your boyfriend was here the last time," he said reluctantly.

"Yeah mate, I'm stoked to hear what you recorded," Lando said, trying to add some entusiasm to Martin's speech.

Martin's face formed a small frown. "Well, I'm worried, mate. Listen for yourself, it might be just me hearing this track for too many times. But, I'm afraid it does not work."

This took Lando by surprise - he was full on expecting a hot, sexy banger.

Martin did not add anything and upon Y/N's plea for finally play it and with zero protests on Lando's side, he did just that.

So they listened to the almost six minute track. The instrumentals were basically in the exact same state as when Lando was there for the last time. Intrigue filled his body as the tempo slow down came - it must have been time for the moaning to start. He could not wait to see Y/N's reaction. Was there a chance she would actually be mad and consider it tacky?

He didn't let her out of his sight, no matter how much Martin tried to catch his eye. Y/N sat there, her usual focused face on, as per any other time they'd listen to a new track.

And just like that, it took Lando only few bars of the part with the moans to understand where Martin's disinterest came from. This wasn't the right vibe. There was absolutely no comparison to the original track they'd based this on. It was a weak mockery of that whole idea. Sounded cheap, almost fake and with no atmosphere whatsoever. A face of slight disgust formed on Lando's face and he temporarily forgot he was watching Y/N for her reaction. They finally exchanged a look with Martin, both knowing this was just not working. While the girl moaning into the track had a perfect pitch, something was just not right.

Only when the moans and sighs part of the track ended he noticed the look on his girlfriends face and started actually feeling embarrassed. Will she think this as his idea and that he is a pervy simpleton? That he actually likes this?

He started his defense before she'd have any time for a reaction.

"That's not good, mate," he stated the more than obvious. Martin nodded, his expression hard to decipher. "It was not meant to sound this cheap."

"Yeah, don't know what to tell you. We recorded this with like two other producers in the room, this girl is apparently a good porn actress with a perfect pitch. But it sounds just like that. Like, I wanted to create a hot track, this is just cheap and kind of sad."

Lando gulped, almost fearing Y/N's reaction.

And boy, was she staring at him. It almost caught him of guard. Definitely silenced him. If he had to describe it, it would something along the lines of shooting arrows. Lando felt very small. But then, like by some sort of miracle, the corner of her lip turned up and a cheeky smile started to form. Martin knew more than interfere in their silent conversations and turned around to leave them be. A shot of confidence went though Lando's bloodstream and he gave Y/N a questioning look. Almost wanting to challenge her to say something. She shot her eyebrows up and tried to bite her smile away. Lando played dumb and shook his head, as if he did not understand. With that, she nodded toward his phone that was lying next to his hips. Lando's eyes went wide and his heart rate went up. Is she really suggesting this?

Out of nowhere, her look still firm on Lando - who stopped blinking a long time ago - she spoke, probably more to Martin than her boyfriend.

"I love the idea, and I think it could catch on really well. But like you said. You can't fake that if it's suppose to be good. Any girl will se right through this anyway."

Was Lando about to fall in love all over again?

"So what, am I suppose to pay someone to fuck in the studio?"

The silence that followed was a heavy, awkward, hot and hilarious one. Many looks were exchanged between the three of them before, as they say, all the pennies dropped.

"Oh my God," Martin exclaimed. Neither Lando or Y/N reacted in any verbal way, however Lando did raise his eyebrows in order to stop his smile from growing. Failing at that miserably. Suddenly, he was more than aware of Y/N legs near his crotch.

Martin shook his head, as if he became prudent out of nowhere and spun on his chair few times, most likely thinking it over. Lando was about to step in to ease the tension, but Y/N was faster.

"It would be the easiest way to test if the track works, just saying," she commented and Lando tried to stay as still as possible, almost worried that if he moves to much, he might wake up.

To potentially have his girlfriends orgasm voice blasted anonymously in clubs all around the world was doing some thing to his semi-exhibicionist persona, which he had to keep buried deep down. Things he had a lot of trouble admitting to outloud.

The conversation was continuing, no matter how spaced out and horny Lando became.

"Ok, say it works. Are you ok with this staying on the track?" Martin asked Y/N only. He knew his mate well enough to figure he'd be more than fine with it.

Y/N seemed to think about it, in a serious way, for few moments. The air felt oh-so-heavy to Lando. Please, say yes. Both of you.

"As long as it stays anonymous and nobody else, not even your label ever finds out, I say we go and give it a try," she answered and turned over to her boyfriend. He knew the look she had on her face more than well. It was the same one she'd have after agreeing to press record on their personal sex voice memos. And it was doing things to him.

It looked like Martin was coming around with the idea.

"Fuck it, ok then. I guess, I'll just press the button and give you guys some space in the recording room. But like, bare in mind I only need her, not you," he hinted over to Lando, "and for the sake of our friendship, I'd really appreciate if you kept it clean in terms of dirty talk. I don't want this to be the reason I died. Also no...mess please. Ugh."

Lando downed his drink, still unable to believe this was happening, and finally spoke again. "I'm sure there is a way to make sure we get only Y/N's voice."

Images flooded their heads - for Y/N very much wanted, to perfectly contrast Martin's reaction, who was sitting on the complete opposite of the excitement spectrum.

"Ok, let's go with it before I change my mind," Martin said and began prepping the recording room.

Lando squeezed his girlfriends hand, to make sure she was really ok with it.

"I love you," he whispered, unable to hold it in.

"Me too. I'm happy you don't think of me as slutty or perverted," she replied, hint of shame for the first in a long time creeping on her face.

"I would never....We can stop whenever, if you stop feeling it, ok? Please promise you'll let me know."

There was a look on her face he couldn't put a name on. "Thank you."

Martin coughed demonstrateively. "Lando, come over. I'll tell you what to do." Lando eyebrows shot up once again. "Not like that, with the recording, you weirdo," Martin exhaled, already regretting the decision.

//

"So, the recording is on, have a good one, I guess," were Martin's last words before Y/N was about to have a series of little deaths.

And with the click of the door, they were alone. Deep dark silence. Never before has she seen Lando stare at her this much like a hunter would at his prey. His good name was on the line. Maybe not for the whole world, but he had to show his best bud he can make his girl come. And perhaps something more than that.

The room was small, light dimmed out.

"So, what do you have in mind?" she asked softy, still not quite in the same feral mood Lando was in. He crossed over the distance between them slowly to put a finger on her mouth.

"No words, remember?" he reminded himself probably more than her. His plan was never to fuck her here. She'd soon find that out.

With ease and confidence only those who kissed each other countless of times, he locked his lips with hers. His hand in the back of her hair, pulling, not gently. Her tongue rolled over his and she bit his upper lip, to return the favor perhaps. Her head bent back and he follow the train to her collarbone with pecks. With ease, he started walking her over to the chair here the recording artist would usually sit. Today, she'd be the main act and he her muse. She was regretting not wearing a skirt that day. He saw no issue when he pulled her jeans down. He was already hard and just had to squeeze himself for few times, a mindless action. No doubt in his mind that before the night calls quits that day, he'd see his own release. She noticed his moves and tried to get in on the action, only to somewhat wake him up from his own selfishness as he stopped her hands reaching his crotch. Another head shake - hopefully, this time she'd get the hint.

Her eyes were filled with hot wanderlust and with that, she gave up on trying to take the lead. He smiled and got rid of her panties as well.

Two strong hands popped her up on the round chair with no back rest. One last kiss on the lips before he knelt down. Stomach tingled with anticipation. Lando was taking his time, slowly kissing his way up her legs. The ever so blue, green and whatever colored eyes glowing with lust. He stopped at the spot where thighs and knees bend, his tongue finally out, as if for a practice run. Only recently he found out about her secret soft spot. He watched her face relax and give in, first pleasure arriving. He was the moon and her body a shore, waiting for the waves.

Long heavy breath. Lando wanted, needed more. He progressed further and further, until the only place left to go were her folds and wet core. But before that, he didn't for get to leave few bite marks on her upper thighs. Quick catch of breath and her hands buried in his curls. Watching him as if the gods had sent him to ruin her.

And they might have. Normally, he's utter few cheeky lines before dipping his tongue deep into her, but the looks were all he could use this time.

Relaxed and come for me, baby. Drip all over this chair and make them know I can make you scream.

His tongue could as well be completely dry and it would not matter. They way how he was all over her got her wet anyway. His moves were never the same, yet they always worked like magic. He twisted, pulled in and out and all over. Slight bite at her less sensitive folds. Clit suck. And then he called upon his fingers to assist. She was barely sitting on the chair, legs fully rested on his shoulders, priorities loud and clear. As were her moans she didn't notice at first. She had to support herself with her arm, squeezing the weak leather top of the chair. Her other hand was busy with pushing Lando's face towards her. First tide started to arrive. Lando drew his head back to catch some breath - and she let him, because his fingers became the main act. He made sure to hold the tempo, knowing that would work like volume increase button. Was there a more beautiful sight than watching a woman you love hit the highs of life? Lando very much doubted. Judging by the way her face clenched, she must have forgotten the why and where. Her throat served like a gateway to pleasure sounds. And she screamed, more and even more once he sucked her clit again.

They call it little deaths because it might just be the only accurate description of what washed over her. If wasn't often he'd go down on and not fuck her shortly afterwards. Since that was out of the picture, she focused fully on his moves, knowing this was the peak.

He felt her relax after a particularly loud scream. Coming down to Earth once again. She opened her eyes and he smirked. He knew, by the way she tried to steady his breath and the slight movement of her supporting hand that she considered it "job done". She nodded and head and he shook his once again. Her puzzling look quickly replaced by a lip bite as his mouth traveled back to her core.

One more round, one could say Lando's ego was becoming the main hero of this story. The thought of somebody having to go and listen to another round of him destroying his girl with pleasure was an intoxicating one.

//

Martin's track was an instant hit and minor shock to the public. Never before has he released something so explicit. Y/N's screams were out for the whole world to listen and it did a wonder to their sex life. It was something else to fuck and blast your own love soundtrack on.

There were two main versions release, one less explicit, for the DJ's to play around the radio during the day and for club goers to party to during the night.

Lando stopped counting how many times it happened that in the middle of the day he'd hear this song around the paddock radio. Whenever he did, he would send Y/N a photo with a cheeky wink, and she'd do the same when she had the luck of listening to her own voice in public like that. A nice, somewhat innocent tradition for them only to understand.

//

Keep you friends close and rivals closer. That's how Lando ended up at one of the many celebrations of Max Verstappen's title celebrations. Little did he mind, secretly loving the fact the pressure was off him for a moment. Expensive alcohol flowing freely also helped.

He found himself sitting in a VIP booth across from Max, by some stroke of luck, alone. And of course, that was the first time he slipped up. Somehow he managed to avoid a situation when someone who knew him well was around when Martin's monaco kiss came up.

"the recording is on, have a good one, I guess"

Martin decided to keep his own line in the intro, only later admitting he'd re-recorded it out of his own insecurity. Which Lando found very amusing, given the fact him and Y/N only needed one take to get it right perfectly.

His stomach dropped a bit when he heard the now iconic opening line. Shifted a bit to regain some composure. Sipping a drink might help to hide his slight panic and lack of any real light did not allow his blushed cheeks to go noticed.

Across from him, Max was nodding his feet to the beat of the track. The conversation grew stale a moment while, so Max's complimentary comment on Lando's friend's track must have been intended as an innocent ice-breaker.

"what do you have in mind"

Another line kept in from the recording. Y/N's real voice hidden under many layers of autotune to keep her identity anonymous. As per her wish and Lando's secret regret.

The tempo started to slow down. Anyone would remember the track by heart if they'd listened to it the same amount of times as Lando had. Words were lost on him and he did not find a response to Max's comment. Very unusual from Lando. He sipped his now empty drink, hoping more liquid had magically appeared. Max noticed something was off. And then the key jump, straight out the book Diet Pepsi took inspiration from. Followed by the peak moan, or maybe a scream, from his girl for everyone to hear. It was not supposed to be this arousing. Max tilted his head and after another few beats, his intense stare aimed at his rival/friends went wide.

Lando tried to stop his smirk. He really did.

Max's mouth went open and he stopped his breath before uttering a simply lovely, slightly astonished: "No way."

Lando averted his gaze to the crowd below in order to avoid Max, who chuckled and took a big gulp of his not-empty glass.

If the lights went on, everybody would be able to see a bright red Lando. He was never going to break his promise about keeping this a secret, so he did not comment. But he grinned at Max's nod of approval.

He excused himself as went to the bar. Searching for his girl.

Light brush on her waist made her turn, wonder in her eyes easing when she saw it was him. They were both in the same horny headspace.

He leaned in and whispered, as much as one can whisper in a club, the last few beats of their track playing. "You sound so hot, baby. I'm so down bad for you."

Tipsy, she shot him a wide smile and mouthed a silent "i love you".

[childrenofcain-if]

Hello beautiful Author!! I hope u are doing well! So basically I am a religious follower of your blog and uuugghh!!! This story is so beautifully crafted like the script the writing style the plot even the characters seem larger than life. Honestly u have my tremendous respect and admiration.... Also I am totally in love with cedric!! angsty adorable and hot. So since today is my birthday I decided to treat myself to a snippet ... Can u please write a fluff scene where in the future after marriage yk after C achieved his dream how would M!C react to find out that F!MC is pregnant. What kind of dad would he be and how would he handle the news especially if it's a girl. (PS: I love you okay? U rock!!! ❤❤😘)

the morning started like most mornings did in your household. the sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of your manhattan penthouse, muted by the heavy curtains cédric insisted on keeping drawn just enough to keep the room from feeling exposed.

he was already in the kitchen when you woke up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he frowned at his ipad.

it was a weekday, which meant cédric was doing what cédric did best: handling things.

the man could command a room full of board members or negotiate a multi-billion-dollar deal, but he always took his mornings slow, like it was his personal rebellion against the world which demanded his attention. the smell of coffee hung thick in the air, and you could hear him muttering under his breath—half in french, half in english—as he skimmed over some report.

he looked up when he heard your footsteps. the cold glint in his pale green eyes softened the way they always did when he saw you.

“good morning, mon amour,” he said, setting the ipad down as if the numbers and charts weren’t important anymore.

you smiled at him, but there was a nervous flutter in your chest that didn’t quite dissipate.

“good morning,” you greeted back, making your way to the counter. “we need to talk.”

his brow furrowed, just slightly, in that way that meant his mind was already cataloging possible scenarios. you wondered if he was running through a mental checklist: a problem at work, an overdue bill, a delayed package. he was always looking for answers before you even finished your question.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, voice low and calm, but his hand twitched where it rested on the counter.

you hesitated, suddenly unsure how to say it. for someone who had spent years speaking in boardrooms and drafting persuasive arguments, the words felt clumsy in your throat.

“there’s nothing wrong, per se,” you began, and you saw the tension in his shoulders ease—just a fraction. “it’s just... i’m pregnant.”

the silence that followed was heavy, but not uncomfortable. it was like the air had stilled, waiting for his reaction.

cédric blinked. once, twice. then he stepped back, leaning against the counter as if the weight of your words had hit him square in the chest. his mouth opened, then closed again. he looked—if you hadn’t known him better—younger. like a boy caught off guard, unsure of whether he was allowed to feel what he was feeling.

“you’re...?” he started, and then he stopped himself. his hand went to his hair, brushing the dark brown strands back, a nervous habit he’d never managed to shake. “you’re sure?”

you nodded, suddenly shy. “i took three tests. all positive. i was going to wait until we were both home later tonight, but—”

“no, no, now is perfect,” he interrupted, his voice sharper than he intended, like he was scolding you for even considering keeping it from him. he shook his head, and you could see the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “mon dieu.”

cédric laughed then, a sound so rare and so unguarded it made your chest ache. it was a laugh of disbelief, of joy, of sheer and unrestrained emotion. he crossed the kitchen in two long strides and pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly you could feel his heart pounding against your ribs.

“je t’aime,” he murmured into your hair. “je t’aime, je t’aime, je t’aime.”

you clung to him, laughing through the tears that had started spilling down your cheeks.

***

cédric’s reaction to the pregnancy didn’t end that morning. over the next few weeks, he threw himself into preparing for the baby with the same intensity he brought to his work. he was meticulous, obsessive even, researching everything from cribs to car seats. he vetoed three potential pediatricians before you’d even had a chance to meet them, insisting that only the best would do.

but it wasn’t just about the logistics. cédric was unexpectedly tender, in a way that made your heart twist. he read parenting books in bed at night, one hand on your growing belly as he absently stroked his thumb over the fabric of your pajamas. he brought you tea without being asked, stocked the pantry with your favorite snacks, and refused to let you carry anything heavier than a shopping bag.

when you found out the baby was a girl, it felt like the world completely shifted for him.

“it’s a girl,” you had informed him, holding the ultrasound picture out to him.

he took it from your hands carefully, as if it were made of glass, and stared at it for a long moment. his expression was unreadable, but you could see the way his fingers trembled, just slightly.

“a daughter,” he said, the words thick in his throat. “our daughter.”

you nodded with a small smile, watching him carefully. “how do you feel about that?”

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he set the picture down on the table and turned to you, his eyes burning with an intensity that made you shiver.

“i’m going to protect her,” cédric said, his voice low and fierce. “from everything. from everyone. she’ll never have to wonder if she’s loved. she’ll never have to fight for what’s hers.”

“i can already see it,” you teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. “you’ll be the dad who scares off all her partners.”

“damn right i will,” he said, his smile returning. “she’s going to know her worth. and if anyone tries to undermine that—” he didn’t finish the sentence, but the murderous look in his eyes said enough.

you leaned forward, cupping his cheek and drawing him back to you. “she’ll know her worth because of you,” you said softly. “because of how much you’ll love her.”

“and her mother,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper.

he kissed you then, slow and lingering, and when he pulled back, his hands settled gently over your stomach.

you reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “she’s going to be so lucky to have you.”

cédric shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “no,” he said softly, his gaze dropping to your belly. “i’m the lucky one.”

***

as the months went on, cédric proved himself to be everything you’d hoped for and more. he was attentive to a fault, sometimes to the point of driving you mad with his insistence on helping you. ehen the baby kicked for the first time, he was right there, his hand pressed against your stomach, his eyes wide with wonder.

when your due date finally arrived, he was the calmest one in the delivery room. he held your hand through every contraction (even when you almost broke his bones), whispered words of encouragement in your ear, and refused to leave your side, even when the nurses told him to give you space.

and when your daughter was finally born, cédric was the first to hold her, much to your father’s exasperation. he cradled her tiny, wrinkled body in his arms, his expression soft and awestruck.

“she’s perfect,” he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks.

you smiled, exhausted but deliriously happy. “she has your eyes.”

“and a head full of your hair,” he said, his voice breaking.

in that moment, you knew without a doubt that he would be the kind of father who would move mountains for his daughter. he would be firm but fair, protective but not overbearing, and endlessly devoted to her happiness.

as he rocked her gently, humming a lullaby under his breath, you realized that this—your little family—was everything you’d ever wanted. and as much as you knew about how cédric wasn’t very good at expressing his emotions, it was clear as day right now that nothing would ever compare to the love he had for the two of you.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 25 - Doll Play]

Pairing: Soft Dom!Jungkook x sub!Taehyung

Genre: Vampire!Jungkook, Vampire!Taehyung, established relationship!AU

Kinks: sex on the toilet & in the bathtub, doll play, creampies, buttplug, prostate massage, strength kink, piss kink, bladder control, slight examination, praise, multiple orgasms, handjob, nipple play, frotting, bondage with a shower hose, lots of kissing, he is so gentle with him, Taehyung is non-verbal for most of this story, loving aftercare

Wordcount: 4.7k

a/n: a few people requested doll play with taekoo and I’m here to deliver hehe I also felt like adding this idea to the mix because it is fitting to the scene. ps: the entire section on the toilet is so hot to me, you have no idea

The things they did were intense. Both emotionally as well as physically. They left them shaken and beyond the ability to go again. Or so it seems for now.

Jungkook drops into the pillow, arching his back and groaning softly. He is panting heavily, skin covered in sweat and the remnants of passionate sex. His legs are still tingling, twitching every now and then as he recovers from his orgasm. His stomach feels sore from tensing it way too much. His cock is still hard, dripping post-orgasmic bliss into his messied pubes.

“Holy fuck, we just did that”, he gets out in a raspy, used-up voice, running his hand through his ruffled hair.

Taehyung lies beside him on his stomach, gaped hole leaking Jungkook’s pleasure and eyes refusing to open. He is heaving for air, skin wet in sweat and tender from the rough play. He can’t really articulate his own feelings right now because he is stiffened in submission. He knows that he is drooling and that his nose is stuffy because his eyes are constantly tearing up. His ears are ringing, there is pounding in his head and a constant throbbing deep up his ass.

“Tae?” The voice of Jungkook sounds as if spoken above water while Taehyung sinks deeper and deeper. 

A touch, that of a hand, rests itself on the nape of his neck. It is warm and gentle.

“Taehyung?” The voice is clearer but still far away. The touch travels to his upper back. 

“Taehyung baby, are you okay?” Almost. He is almost there at hearing him clearly. The touch dances along his spine then rests on his neck again. 

“Come back to me, mon cher.” 

Taehyung opens his eyes. Jungkook is looking at him, resting on his side and brows tightened in worry. They relax upon seeing Taehyung’s eyes.

“There you are. I lost you for a second. How are you feeling?” 

Taehyung nods his head.

“Yes? Good?”

Another nod reassures him. 

“That’s good to hear, chéri.” Jungkook kisses his ear, nibbling on the lobe in a relaxing manner. “You did so well. You took me like the best boy ever.”

“Doll.”

Jungkook falters for a second and then he smiles against Taehyung’s ear, whispering his next words, “like a good doll.”

Taehyung whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut in order not to cry. There are no words on this earth worthy enough to describe how good this makes him feel. Especially when it comes from Jungkook, the man who has never caused him harm nor will never do so. Jungkook combs his fingers through Taehyung’s twisted and tangled hair, adoring eyes gazing at his face. His normally pale cheeks are flushed, the makeup he wanted to wear is smudged. He is so beautiful to Jungkook. 

“Does that mean you need this kind of care?” he asks him, speaking softly and full of love.

Taehyung nods his head. 

“Well if that’s so.” A kiss to his jawline. “Let me prepare my doll’s bath. Okay?”

Taehyung nods his head.

“I love you, ma poupèe.”

Taehyung wants to compare the feelings he is on with floating on a soft cloud high above any kind of storm and where sunlight shines the brightest. It was him who taught Jungkook the French words for My Doll and confessed in the same breath that it means a lot more to him when he is spoken to in French. To be called like this right now is true heaven to Taehyung. He spends the waiting time floating on clouds and feeling high.

Jungkook announces his presence by running his hands along Taehyung’s calves. He tenses them at first, but relaxes instantly because Jungkook’s touch feels different than any other touch. He can recognise it blindly.  

“You’re the prettiest doll ever. If I didn’t ruin you like this, I would crawl between those willing, open doll legs of yours and take you again.”

Taehyung mewls and moans a second later when Jungkook pulls him to the edge of the bed by his legs. He bends them by his knees, ordering him with just a tender squeeze to keep them like this. Taehyung obeys willingly.

Jungkook puts his left hand on Taehyung’s buttocks and parts him. Taehyung feels dizzy in anticipation. Sudden pressure on his hole. He gasps, twisting the sheets and rolling his ankles.

“Relax. I can’t plug your leaking doll hole when you tense up like this.”

Taehyung tries to but can’t because he is so excited to be used like this.

“Relax my pretty one, relax. We don’t want to lose any drop of my cum on the way to the bath, do we?” Jungkook talks to him in a soft voice, circling his rim with the metal buttplug. “So relax my pretty one, I’m going to be so gentle with you. I promise.”

His loving domination is enough to make Taehyung relax. He doesn’t want to lose anything of Jungkook’s warm cum. It fills him and makes him his. Of course he doesn’t want to lose anything. Of course not. The plug finally slips inside, eliciting a whimper from him and a deep moan from Jungkook.

“There we go, such a good doll. I’m proud of you”, Jungkook praises, giving the plug a good wiggle to check for its sturdiness. 

It is intense for Taehyung because Jungkook fucked his prostate into a state of complete sensitivity. He curls his toes, hips chasing the weak fuck in hopes of getting more.

“So pretty. Fuck, you’re so pretty. It’s like you’re made to be my breeding doll”, Jungkook rasps and leans down to kiss Taehyung’s tailbone, cradling his hips tenderly, “my beautiful doll so perfectly made for me.”

He puts his arms under him and flips him, then picks him up bridal style, bouncing him until his head falls onto his shoulder to rest. 

“Such a good doll.”

Taehyung melts into Jungkook, closing his eyes. He feels so safe. He gave up complete control right now, every ounce of power lies with Jungkook and he isn’t scared. He feels safe and he heals with every passing second he spends in this moment with him. 

Despite his initial promise of a bath, Jungkook doesn’t sink him into the water first. Instead he sits him down on the toilet, keeping one hand on his lower back while he rests the other against his lower stomach.

He moves closer, lips brushing against Taehyung’s ear, and slides his hand down to the plug to pull it out. The position naturally forces it out easily, despite Taehyung’s attempts to keep it inside. He is working so hard in fact, that even once empty, no droplet of cum leaves him.

Jungkook places the plug aside and puts his hand back on Taehyung’s lower back. Then he finally applies pressure on his stomach, keeping a watchful eye on Taehyung’s cock.

The multiple creampies Jungkook left inside Taehyung start leaving him in a loud trickle. Taehyung whimpers in embarrassment, eyes tearing up and legs trying to close. Jungkook shakes his head, nudging them open and applying more pressure.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I need to make sure that you are empty before I clean you.”

Taehyung spills tears, writhing on the toilet seat as he trembles against his will. He swears that this feels almost orgasmic right now. Being forced to release the masses of cum having bloated his insides. It is Jungkook’s doing, but Taehyung swears he can feel every drop of it graze against his prostate as it leaves him. 

He reaches out and twists Jungkook’s hair.  It isn’t very doll-like of him to do, but he needs to inform him of his current situation.

Jungkook looks up, studying the ecstatic expression on Taehyung’s beautiful features. His own cock throbs a little, stomach tingling.

“Good doll. Such a good doll. Let it happen” he talks him through it, rolling circles into his shrinking stomach. 

The trickling becomes cut off and irregular as Taehyung convulses and clenches. Jungkook squeezes down harder, applying enough pressure that Taehyung shudders and releases the pee he tried holding in alongside Jungkook’s cum.

“Good doll, I’m so proud of you. Empty yourself. What a good doll.” 

Taehyung wails up, but it comes out as a croak, falling to the front as the sensations are too much. Jungkook truly controls everything. He controls when his hole should empty itself and he controls his bladder. Taehyung sobs into Jungkook’s shoulder, releasing a weak trickle of cum as his crescendo of the orgasmic sensations. 

The liquid sounds stop. Taehyung is truly empty. 

“There we go. That was intense, wasn’t it?”

Taehyung shudders, hugging Jungkook helplessly.

“Of course it was. Let’s check you just in case.” 

Jungkook lifts his limp body off the toilet bowl. Taehyung instantly wraps his legs around him, giving Jungkook the perfect position for his check up. 

He buries two fingers in Taehyung’s hole. Taehyung tenses up and mewls. He counts every second Jungkook stays inside. He scissors and twists his fingers, massaging his walls as he inspects him. 

“So I was right in my assumption. You had an orgasm right now. Your prostate is still throbbing. Good doll, you handled the cleaning out perfectly.” 

Taehyung swears he might orgasm again if Jungkook keeps talking while his fingers rub his sensitive prostate. He sometimes wonders if what he feels for Jungkook is healthy. Despite being ruined by sex, Taehyung could still - and wants to - orgasm for Jungkook. Are such feelings healthy? 

To his dismay, Jungkook pulls out his fingers, placing them under his thighs so he could stand up with him in his arms.

“Good doll. You emptied yourself perfectly.  I’m so happy to have you. Are you ready for the bath?”

Taehyung makes a little sound, feeling dizzy. The dizziness increases when Jungkook sinks him into the warm water. He writhes and shudders at first, but calms down when Jungkook cradles his face and shushes him.

“Is it too hot?”

Taehyung shakes his head.

“That’s good to hear.” He kisses his forehead, smiling at him afterwards. “Lean back for now, okay?”

Taehyung allows him to prop his body into the position of his liking. Jungkook leaves his side for a little while. Taehyung can barely keep his eyes open. The water is so warm, it smells like lavender oils and vanilla candles are illuminating the room. The feeling of cloud floating is so strong that Taehyung has a hard time not falling asleep. Which was a rather weird sensation because he was also so incredibly needy for Jungkook. Perhaps, if he dared to fall asleep, Jungkook could still continue and use him how he pleases. Taehyung wouldn’t mind. Just close his eyes. Close them. One second. Close…them.

Shuffling by his side. Taehyung opens his eyes. Jungkook returned, sitting down on the edge of the tub. He is still naked, which only adds to the intense and unbreakable intimacy they are currently sharing.

“Are you my sleepy doll?” he asks in a soft voice, caressing his cheek.

Taehyung looks up at him with droopy puppy eyes, lips parted and refusing to close.

Jungkook chuckles, “you’re so adorable. If you feel the need to sleep, don’t fight it. I promise to be gentle with you and to take good care of you. Okay?”

Taehyung nods his head softly, eyes glazing over.

“Okay”, Jungkook says and brushes his fingers over Taehyung’s lids until they fall closed. “Now relax, let me clean you.” 

He knows that Jungkook wants him to stay like this and so Taehyung obeys. Jungkook soaks a cotton pad in makeup remover and places it onto Taehyung’s eyes. He counts down from five in a whisper then wipes the messy residues of a once beautiful eye makeup look. He flips the pad and goes in for a second time. Once his eye is clean, he repeats the process with the other eye, holding Taehyung’s head still with two fingers under his chin. After the treatment, he soaks two cotton pads in the warm bath water and places them on his eyes. Taehyung exhales deeply, body growing limp in relaxation.

“There we go, relax”, Jungkook whispers, gazing at him. He kisses his forehead once and stands up so he could stand behind Taehyung and brush his hair. He goes strand by strand and with utmost care. Not once Taehyung feels tugging or pinching, only tingles and shivers which reach him all the way to the tip of his toes.

“I can’t bear to look at you like this. With your hair all twisted and tangled. I was so rough, wasn’t I?”

Taehyung shakes his head.

“That’s good to hear. You know, I try to control myself when I’m with you, I try to be civil and a patient person, but then I’m inside you and every promise I ever made is just gone. I’m so…” He trails off for a moment. He grabs a bundle of Taehyung’s freshly combed hair and uses it to tilt his head back. The pads fall off his face that way, but neither cares as Jungkook kisses his lips right here and now. Deeply and with so much love. Taehyung swears that he tastes heaven on his lips. The kiss breaks because Jungkook wanted it to. “I guess I’m so addicted to you that I lose all sense of control when I’m near you.”

Taehyung opens his eyes. He moves his mouth but no sound comes out.

“I love you too”, Jungkook says and guides his head to the front to finish his hair. Because the pads fell off his eyes, Taehyung can keep his head straight and allow Jungkook to reach the back of his hair as well. He brushes it out as carefully as he did the other strands.

Once done, he rounds the tub, sitting down on the edge again. His eyes soften, his lips curl into a smile. He cradles Taehyung’s cheek, running his thumb under his eye.

“Yeah, I’m definitely addicted to you.”

“Koo”, Taehyung croaks, trying to sit up and steal a kiss, but Jungkook pushes him back into the water.

“Not yet.”

Taehyung whimpers.

Jungkook stands up and lifts his leg to step into the water. Any kind of disappointment of being denied a kiss is gone from Taehyung’s heart as he watches the love of his entire life sink into the water with him.

Jungkook giggles and Taehyung swears that he creates new galaxies with it. Jungkook scrunches his nose and Taehyung swears new life appears somewhere in this vast universe.

“The water’s so nice wow”, Jungkook gushes and scoots closer. Their legs entangle. They are so close that Taehyung can smell Jungkook’s intoxicating breath as he talks.

“Are you comfortable? Am I pinching something? I know my legs are kinda heavy.”

Taehyung moves his lips but no sound comes out. He isn’t ready to speak yet.

“Just blink twice if you’re comfortable”, Jungkook accommodates him, rubbing his pecs slowly.

Taehyung blinks twice, lighting up Jungkook’s features.

“Good doll. I love you”, he praises and breaks eye contact to study his body under the water.

He picks up Taehyung’s left hand, lifting it out of the water so he can touch his nails.

Taehyung doesn’t like having his nails touched because people in his past hurt this part of his body a lot. They ripped them out, taking pleasure in his begs for mercy and wails of agony and only passing out saved Taehyung from more torture. Ever since that night, he feels scared when people touch his nails, but not with Jungkook. He doesn’t want him to stop, on the contrary, he wants him to continue.

“No broken nails. That’s good. I was scared that I made you twist the sheets too hard and break your nails.” Jungkook lowers his left hand and repeats the same process with his right hand. “Oh? That’s broken. Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

Taehyung shakes his head.

“I’m glad. I will fix it for you, don’t worry.” 

He reaches for the nail clippers he placed on the table next to the tub and clips the broken edge of Taehyung’s nail. Taehyung can barely even clip his own nails without reliving what happened to him. But when he is with Jungkook and he helps him fall into doll space, there is no fear in his heart. He doesn’t flinch nor inhale sharply when Jungkook clips his nails. He feels safe.

“There we go. Now you won’t hurt yourself”, Jungkook says and suddenly becomes serious, furrowing his brows, “you won’t ever have to hurt again”, he whispers, giving his hand a squeeze before guiding it to his lips to kiss the tips of his fingers. “I promise.”

He lowers his hand back into the water and cups Taehyung’s cheek. Taehyung does something a good doll would never do, but he can’t wait any longer, he sits up and kisses Jungkook before he can even as much as initiate it.

“Mhm”, Jungkook lets out and smiles into the kiss. He puts one hand on Taehyung’s chest and the other deep into his hair. “God, you’re driving me insane.”

One push at his chest and Taehyung falls against the bathtub wall. Jungkook chases him, caging him between the tub and his bigger frame. Taehyung whimpers and twists Jungkook’s hair,  back arching into his touch. 

It isn’t long into the kiss when Taehyung darts out his tongue for more. Jungkook curses and grabs the edge of the tub.

“Don’t tempt me”, he gets out. 

Taehyung whimpers, fluttering his lashes up at him. He touches his strong chest, playing with his nipples. He knows that Jungkook likes it when he does.

Jungkook growls quietly, slamming his other hand onto the edge of the tub as well. He breathes sharply, brows tight as he looks down at Taehyung.

“You are the very reason I’m so out of balance. Haven’t I fucked you enough? Haven’t I given you enough orgasms?” 

Taehyung flutters his lashes and wraps his hands around Jungkook’s hard cock. Jungkook hisses, arms and pecs tensing and head dropping so he can see what Taehyung is doing. 

“Careful, poupèe, before I decide to take on another tone with you.” 

Taehyung pumps his hand around Jungkook’s tip, mouthing his name before biting down on his lower lip. He knows that Jungkook lives for that. Eye contact, his own name spoken in bliss, lips being bitten. Jungkook is a man for simple pleasures, drinking them up like an addict. 

He growls and jumps into action. He grabs Taehyung’s hands and presses them together. He takes the hand shower head to use its hose as a makeshift rope for Taehyung’s wrists. With one push, his tied up arms are above his head, bent by his elbows and hands tangling over the bathtub edge.

“Stay still and try not to rip it”, Jungkook spits.

Taehyung whimpers, lower lip trembling and eyes glazing over.

Jungkook’s features soften. He brushes the back of his hand down Taehyung’s face. 

“I’m doing this for you, ma poupèe. You are weak and used up. I can’t fuck you again. So just let me take care of you. We’ll sleep and come morning, I can give you what you want. Okay?” 

Taehyung nods his head. 

“Good doll. Being obedient fits you so much better”, Jungkook praises, rewarding him with a kiss to the slope of his nose. He caresses his cheek. “Now the last part of the clean up is going to be intense for you, but it is necessary.”

Taehyung gulps nervously.

“Don’t be scared. I will be gentle with you. You are going to like it, it’s just going to be intense.”

Taehyung nods his head in consent, squeezing his own hands nervously. Jungkook acknowledges him with a smile then continues the cleaning process. 

He starts his touch at Taehyung’s elbows, dancing it down his arms, his chest and stomach until he reaches his crotch. Taehyung tries not to, but still moves into the touch, feeling dizzy. 

Past his cock and along his inner thighs. If Taehyung wasn’t so lost for words, he would beg Jungkook for more. But alas he can’t, meant to bear the gentle touch and not wish for more. 

“So pretty, you’re beautiful”, Jungkook whispers and caresses his hips, “I’m owning the prettiest doll ever. Can’t wait to hold you to sleep.” 

Contrary to his tender words, his touch takes on a rather sexual path. He cradles his balls, massaging them carefully.

Taehyung moans softly, hips jerking up and arms tensing. It feels so good. Jungkook feels so, so good. 

“How come they’re already plumb again? You’re more insatiable than I am”, Jungkook teases, squeezing them softly and watching how Taehyung’s cock twitches under the water. It is hard and flushed, growing more excited with each second Jungkook handles his balls. 

“Mmh doll, did I really not fuck you enough? Are you that full of cum today?” 

Taehyung bites down on his lower lip, making submissive puppy eyes at him. 

Jungkook gives up with a sigh, “what a needy doll. I wonder where all of this comes from. Are you genuinely only made to be bred and to breed in return, mhm?” 

Taehyung’s eyes glaze over, his balls throb in Jungkook’s hand.

“Maybe, you are”, Jungkook murmurs mindlessly and wraps his other hand around Taehyung’s cock. 

“Ah!” Taehyung lets out, thrusting into his fist needily. A slightly painful tug on his balls calms him down again.

“Stay still, I’ll hurt you otherwise and I don’t wanna do this.”

Taehyung tenses his body, trying to be obedient. 

“Good doll. Relax, I promise it will all be over soon”, Jungkook whispers in a breathy, seductive voice as his hand glides up and down Taehyung’s cock. “Close your eyes, I promise it won’t take long. Just close your eyes.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes back and closes them, head dropping against the edge of the bathtub. Jungkook takes in the view with a fluttering stomach. Seeing Taehyung so utterly and deeply lost in pleasure will never lose its spark to him.

“Relax, my starlight, relax”, he whispers and closes the last distance between them to do what he craves for most. He presses his cock against Taehyung’s, wrapping his hand around both their lengths to jerk them off together.

Taehyung opens his eyes in shock, speaking the first word of the evening because the connection is too grand not to.

“Jungkook.”

“I love when you say my name like this, Taehyung baby. Makes it feel so good. So fucking good”, Jungkook says and cups Taehyung’s cheek, dropping his forehead against his’.

Their eyes close, they share one breath. Taehyung moans and whimpers quietly while Jungkook answers him in deep purrs and little sighs. He keeps his hand still for now, applying a steady pressure around their cocks as he rocks his hips back and forth. Their most sensitive spots keep grinding together, forming electrifying pleasure between them. Because of how Jungkook frots with Taehyung, it feels as if he was making love to him, as if he was fucking him deep and slow in missionary while the bathwater keeps them warm.

“Does this feel good to you, baby?” Jungkook asks and Taehyung tastes every word with insatiable hunger on his tongue.

“Jungkook”, he whimpers, writhing in the restraints.

“It feels good to me too. So good. You’re made for me.”

Overtaken by his emotions, Taehyung begins rolling his hips up to meet Jungkook’s movements. Jungkook trembles, lips brushing against Taehyung’s as he opens them in a gasp. He claims the opportunity instantly, kissing Jungkook and swallowing the heavenly sighs he lets out. Jungkook purrs, tongue instantly meeting Taehyung’s and hips matching his rhythm. What they are doing is beyond description. When Jungkook rolls his hips to the front, Taehyung pulls his hips back and once he thrust up, Jungkook rolls his hips back. It results in constant stimulation to each their cocks and pleasure so electric the very fibres of their bodies tremble in bliss.

Taehyung wiggles in his restraints again. The hose knocks against the bathtub rhythmically, mixing with the sound of splashing water and their muffled moans. It is barely a background noise at first before Jungkook breaks the kiss with a chuckle.

“All I can concentrate on is this stupid hose hitting the tub. Stay still, my doll.”

“Jungkook”, Taehyung begs, fighting the restraints with more vigour.

“Stay still, let it happen”, Jungkook encourages him and slides his hand to the nape of his neck, “my good doll, I know you can do it.”

Taehyung drops his arms, growing complacent in Jungkook’s hands. His hips lose their rhythm, twitching and flinching as Jungkook fucks him deep and slow. His eyelids are so heavy but he doesn’t want to close them. He needs to look at Jungkook, needs to look at the one person who made him believe that true love is real, needs to look at the one person who makes him want to never see other people again.

Jungkook smiles at him. It isn’t big of a gesture, but it is too much for Taehyung.

He orgasms, eyes rolling back against his will and body shaking out of control.

“Taehyung, oh god”, Jungkook gets out in a pitched-voice, following him in such intensity that he drops his head against the edge of the tub right next to Taehyung’s. They rut and thrust into Jungkook’s fist, making their orgasms so much more intense because of the messy, aggressive friction between their throbbing lengths. The water is milky because of them, the air trembles in the sound of their moans.

Jungkook plops down on Taehyung’s lap once he comes down, wrapping his arms around him to hug him tightly. Taehyung can’t melt into the embrace, squeaking helplessly. Jungkook understands without needing words. He reaches over the edge of the tub and undoes the knot of the hose. The shower head falls to the floor in a loud bang and stays there for now. Taehyung sobs in gratefulness, finally hugging Jungkook how he wanted to for ages.

“Hush, it’s okay. Don’t cry, I’m right here”, Jungkook soothes him, holding him safely.

“I love you so much”, Taehyung croaks.

“Well, I love you too Tae baby”, Jungkook whispers.

“I feel so safe with you.”

“You are safe with me.”

“Please, don’t ever leave me.”

“I won’t ever leave you, Tae baby”, Jungkook promises him with a kiss to his neck. He stays nuzzled afterwards, voice slightly muffled from the position, “I can’t believe we did that. Again. How many times did we cum in bed?”

“Me four times, you three times.”

“Yeah and the one time you came on the toilet. So five times for you.”

“Right”, Taehyung has to giggle.

Jungkook chuckles, kissing his pulse point, “and yet we still ended up like this again. Seriously, we gotta get our asses straight, it’s getting ridiculous how horny we are.”

“I don’t want to be straight though. It sounds awful”, Taehyung jokes, making Jungkook laugh with it.

Still smiling, he bites Taehyung’s earlobe playfully, rasping his words.

“It’s not how I meant that, but yeah, that sounds awful indeed.”

Taehyung snickers, agreeing with a nod of his head.

“Mhm, you’re too much. Fuck, I’m so addicted to you”, Jungkook purrs, giving his earlobe a gentle tug before he continues with his neck kisses, “how was it for you? I know I promised to clean you, but that didn’t happen. Was it still good for you?”

Taehyung nods his head vigorously and stutters his words because of how emotional he feels about them, “it, it was amazing. You made, made me feel so good and, and safe. Please don’t ever change, please.”

“Well, that sounds like you enjoyed it”, Jungkook purrs and kisses his jawline inch by inch, “I enjoyed it too. I love when you’re my doll and I can take care for you. I know it wasn’t like we typically do it.”

“I moved a lot, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, baby, don’t ever. You needed it and I just…” he sighs, rubbing the tip of his nose against Taehyung’s cheek as he continues talking, “…want to see you happy. You looked so happy tonight. I’m so glad, it’s all that matters to me.”

Taehyung whimpers softly.

“Were you happy, baby?” Jungkook asks him, fingers playing with his hair.

“I still am.” Taehyung wiggles his head until he can look up at Jungkook. “I’m with you. All my heart feels when I am with you, is happiness.”

“Oh Taehyung”, Jungkook gets out and pulls him into an emotional, loving kiss.

[4nyangnyangz]

Derrière le Masque 🪷

synopsis: while looking around at an art exhibit, you encounter a masked stranger whose enigmatic presence leaves you captivated. when fate brings you together again, you begin to uncover the secrets behind his mask. as his hidden world unfolds, so does an unexpected connection—one that could either bring you closer or reveal truths that change everything.

pairings: painter!huening kai x fem reader

tags: strangers to lovers(?), fluff, a bit of angst IF YOU SQUINT, slightly suggestive towards the end, implications of the reader being older than Kai(he calls her noona once), huening siblings are mentioned!

wordcount: 7k (there might be typos/grammatical errors, this isn't proofread!!)

a/n: made this while I was listening to wave to earth and having a hyuka brainrot,,, got the idea of painter hyuka after looking through the minisode 3 romantic ver. concept photos, HE IS JUST SO BEAUTIFUL GOOD LORD. PS. the title translates to "behind the mask" in english!! (I CAN'T SPEAK FRENCH SO THE TITLE COULD BE INACCURATE!)

fic below the cut!

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

You looked around, trying to settle in to the unfamiliar environment around you. A gentle hum of conversations mixed with the echoes of soft footsteps on polished floors fills the air of the museum. You wander through the galleries while passing by groups of people observing each artwork, each person lost in their own interpretation, sharing knowing smiles or animated discussions.

“Y/N! Over here!”, an excited voice calls out to you from a distance. You turned to the direction of where the voice came from and you were greeted by a familiar face which made you sigh in relief.

You carefully passed through the small crowds as you walked towards your friend, Winter, who was one of the artists showcasing their works in the art exhibit that took place in the museum. You accepted her invite as a way of showing your support to her, since she has been one of your closest friends since high school.

“I'm so glad you're here!”, Winter exclaims and immediately pulls you in for a hug. You hug her back with a smile on your face, feeling proud of your friend's achievements.

“I thought you wouldn't come, since you didn't text me or anything.”, she mutters while she rests her chin on your shoulder,embracing you tightly.

“Don't be silly, of course I'd come! I just wanted to surprise you.”, you chuckle, hugging her tighter.

The both of you pull away from the hug after a few minutes and immediately started the conversation like you had just spoken yesterday, catching up on what you missed. It's been months since you last saw each other and you had only communicated with her over the phone, so it made you emotional to see your friend again like this.

Your conversation with her didn't last long however, as she needed to attend to the guests exploring the exhibit, but the both of you promised to meet up again soon when you had the time.

After bidding farewell to your friend, you had no other plans in mind. Aside from coming there to support her, you didn't really know what else to do. You weren't exactly an expert when it comes to art, but you certainly wanted to keep looking around the exhibit more.

“I should probably just look around while I'm here...”' you muttered while looking down to check the time on your phone. You slowly put your phone back in your purse and proceed to walk down the hallway, admiring the various paintings that were being displayed as you passed by.

Something catches your eye—a row of paintings by the same artist, lined up in perfect harmony. Each piece was unique, yet there was a thread of continuity that tied them together. You felt drawn in, as if the paintings were whispering their stories directly to you. You were captivated by the way each painting felt like a window into the artist's soul.

Clusters of people surrounded you and you were in awe from a wide range of people that had the same thought, admiring the row of paintings that were being displayed. Gasps of admiration rippled through the audience, punctuated by murmurs of awe and appreciation. A group of art enthusiasts were gathered beside you, discussing their thoughts as they observed the paintings thoroughly.

“It seems the artist chose to remain anonymous this year, too.”

“If only we knew who were behind these beautiful paintings, we would love to give credit where it's due.”

“It’s a shame we can’t know who created this. I want to understand the person behind these emotions.”

As the discussions swirled, an art critic stepped forward, passionately defending the artist’s choice.

“Art can exist without the artist's narrative dictating its value. This is a statement about the work itself, challenging us to find meaning within the canvas rather than through a biography.”

The crowd shifted between admiration and frustration, some nodding in agreement, while others remained resolute in their disappointment. The air was thick with the opposing reactions—curiosity, appreciation, and a longing for connection. You were intrigued, but also starting to get overwhelmed by the contrasting emotions from the crowd.

The vibrant colors of the artworks blurred into the background as you focused on finding a way out of the crowd. You walked away in a hurry, squeezing through the groups of people surrounding the area.

You suddenly bumped into someone—an unexpected encounter that halted your hurried steps.

You mutter a small apology as you look up to face the hooded figure standing in front of you. A mask covered the lower half of his face, and he had wavy blonde hair resting on top of his forehead that was slightly covering his eyes. You were quick to notice how he had defined features that were evident despite his face being covered. The fabric of his hood framed his face, adding an enigmatic quality that made it hard to look away.

You took a step back as you felt your heart quickening, catching yourself studying him. As you shifted to move past him, your eyes locked for a fleeting moment. You noticed how his eyes looked somewhat empty, yet you felt that his gaze was soft, concealed by the lack of emotion displayed in his eyes. In that instant, you felt an electric connection, a shared understanding of the allure of concealment. He was a figure shrouded in mystery, yet somehow, you sensed a depth beneath the surface—a story waiting to be told.

You apologized once more and immediately excuse yourself, walking away as you placed your right hand on your chest. You let out a sigh of relief as you stepped out of the museum, while the encounter continues to linger in your mind like an unfinished painting, leaving you both intrigued and curious about the identity behind the mask.

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

The air was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee as you stood behind the counter of the bustling coffee shop. The vibrant glow from the street lights outside streamed through the large windows, casting warm patches of light on the polished wooden surfaces.

It was Friday, almost a week after you went to the art exhibit that your friend invited you to. The café was typically crowded on weekends, but today it was quieter and less crowded than usual. You glanced around, catching a glimpse of the customers that were seated. A student sat in the corner with their earbuds in, furiously typing away on her laptop with a half-finished latte cooling beside her. On the table across her was a couple huddled over a shared pastry, laughing softly as they shared stories, their eyes sparkling with affection. You smiled to yourself, enjoying your daily routine of observing the people that would come to the café.

You glanced towards the entrance of the café to see a figure approaching, their presence strikingly different from the usual crowd. They wore a dark cap pulled low over their eyes and a mask that obscured the lower half of their face, giving them an air of mystery.

Despite the disguise, something about them felt familiar, like a fleeting memory hovering just out of reach. You greeted them with a warm smile as they glanced through the menu that was being displayed on the screen behind you. They turn their attention to you after a few seconds, seemingly after deciding what to order.

“Hey,” they said, their voice slightly muffled but still warm. “I'd like a medium strawberry acai lemonade to go, please.”

“Sure thing,” you replied, trying to mask your curiosity. As you prepared their drink, you couldn’t help but study the details—how the cap cast shadows on their features and the way their eyes flickered with intrigue. It felt like they were hiding something, but you couldn’t tell if it was intentional or just part of their aura. The mysterious stranger meets your eyes, as if they noticed that you were taking quick yet not so subtle glances at them while you were preparing their drink. You immediately look away and attempt to focus at the task at hand, feeling heat rush up to your cheeks.

As you continued to prepare their drink, thoughts still racing from the recognition, you hear a familiar voice again, tinged with curiosity.

“Sorry to bother, but are you free after this?”

You glance up at them, surprised but intrigued. The stranger stood there, slightly leaning against the counter while holding their phone, their cap slightly askew, revealing a few strands of their blonde hair. The mask still obscured part of their face, but their eyes sparkled with interest. After exchanging eye contact and taking a better look at them, your eyes widened and you felt your heart skip a beat as the recognition washed over you. The same eyes you had seen at the art exhibit sparkled beneath the brim of the cap, and in that moment, everything clicked into place.

The memory flooded back, the familiar intensity of their gaze helping you come into the realization: it was the mysterious person you had bumped into amidst the paintings, the one whose presence had captivated you. It felt surreal to see them here, hidden behind a mask and cap, yet unmistakably the same.

“Y-yeah, I think so,” you replied, attempting to hide what you were feeling while trying to gauge the sincerity of the invitation. “Why do you ask?”

The stranger puts his hand in the pocket of his pants, rummaging as if he was trying to find something.

“I don't know if you can remember, but you dropped this at the exhibit last Saturday. I wasn’t sure how to get it back to you since I didn’t have your contact information, so I’m really glad to see you again here.” the stranger mutters as he opens his hand to reveal a familiar item that takes you by surprise.

A small customized keyring of Glaceon, your favorite Pokémon character rests on his hand. You had been looking for it ever since that day, and you eventually gave up after realizing that you probably dropped it somewhere along the way, so you decided to just get a new one. You never expected that the person you bumped into that day would be the one to pick it up and return it to you.

“Oh gosh, I thought I lost them forever! I was literally about to just get a new one pre-made because I couldn't find them anywhere.”, you exclaim, a mix of relief and happiness evident in your face.

“I figured this would be important to you so I tried looking everywhere, I'm just glad I finally found you.” the stranger fiddles with the keyring in his hand, “Glaceon, huh... that's cute.”

“Wait, you play Pokémon too?”, your eyes lit up after realizing that they just recognized the character.

You hear a muffled chuckle come from the stranger before responding,

“Kind of. Just when I have free time.”

You were about to respond back and start gushing about one of your favorite games when you hear your co-worker clear her throat, interrupting your conversation.

“Ahem, y/n.”, the barista next to you, a tattooed woman with vibrant hair calls out to you, reminding you not to get too carried away with your conversation. You were still working, after all.

Your lips form into a small 'o' as the realization hits you and gets you flustered. You quickly pick up the Strawberry Acai Lemonade that you prepared and hand it over to the customer standing in front of you.

“I'll hold on to Glaceon for now. What time do you get off?”, the stranger asks as he take the drink from you and stuffed the keyring back in his pocket.

“My shift ends at 7, so...”, you paused and looked at the watch strapped to your wrist before continuing, “That's 2 hours from now.”

“Great, I'll be waiting for you at the park nearby. See you later then.”, the stranger says and you nod, accepting their invitation. He waves at you one last time before heading out of the café. You can’t help but smile after the interaction, you weren't expecting that you'd get your keyring back like this.

Your coworker leans in with a teasing glint in their eye. “I've seen people ask for your number but I haven't seen anyone get straight to the point and just ask you out like that before. Should I be worried?”

“He didn't 'ask me out', he just wanted to return the keyring that I lost.”, you reply as you sighed, fighting a grin.

“If you say so, but I wouldn't be surprised if he started coming here often.” they say, chuckling.

You rolled your eyes at them and the both of you laugh together.

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

The fluorescent lights of the café buzz overhead as you finish up your last task, a mix of excitement and relief washing over you. You grab your jacket, toss it on, and make your way out of the building, the cool evening air greeting you like an old friend.

The city is alive with the sounds of laughter and chatter as you make your way to the park. You look around to see families picnicking, couples walking hand in hand, and kids running around with joy. You turn towards the sprawling oak tree and you started to get nervous after spotting a familiar figure kneeling on the sidewalk.

You felt your heart skip a beat, not just from their presence, but from the sight of them gently cradling a small bowl of cat food. A scruffy stray cat, fur matted and eyes wide with curiosity, approached him in a cautious manner. Curiously, you lean against a nearby lamppost, watching as they softly cooed to the cat, coaxing it closer with soothing words. Their kindness drew you in, and you felt warm after seeing them care for the stray cat.

After a few seconds of hesitating, the cat finally took a tentative step forward and began nibbling at the food. You slowly approach the both of them, taking careful steps to not startle the cat.

“Hey,” you say in a whisper, kneeling beside him and he turns to you after noticing your presence.

“Sorry if I kept you waiting.”

He shrugs before responding.“Not at all, I haven't been waiting long. I just came across this little one and I had a pack of treats with me, so...”

You smiled at him before turning your direction back to the cat and he does the same. The both of you shared a glance, and you felt the connection deepen. It was as if the world around the both of you faded, leaving just the three of you in that moment—two people and a stray cat enjoying a simple act of kindness.

After a few minutes, the cat finished its meal and scurried away, leaving you both with lingering smiles and a sense of shared purpose. The both of you stood up, brushing your knees off. He grabs the Glaceon keyring out from his pocket and hands it over to you.

“Thank you so much, I got so upset when I couldn't find them anywhere. This just made my whole week,” you smile as you gently take the keyring from his hand. The slight touch of your skin makes your heart flutter. “Do you want to stop by somewhere? Let me get you something to snack on, at least.”

“Sure, I don't mind, but it's fine. You don't have to get me anything, really,” he replies.

“No, I insist. I'm starving, so let me get something for you too.” You say as you step forward to lead the way, determined not to give him a chance to decline.

You hear a muffled chuckle come from under his mask as he nods, muttering a small, “Okay.”

As you walk down the street, the bright lights of a nearby convenience store come into view. It’s small and cozy, the kind of place that feels like a treasure trove of late-night snacks.

“Do you have any favorites?” you ask as you push the door open, the familiar jingling of the bell overhead announcing your arrival.

He scans the aisles with crossed arms, a slight frown creasing his brow. “I usually go for pizza, but ice cream would be nice at this hour too…”

You chuckle, trying to ease the tension hanging between you. “That’s okay, just grab what you feel like eating. It’s on me.” His hesitation is palpable, a moment of uncertainty flickering in his eyes before you offer a reassuring smile.

As you both wander the aisles, the air is filled with the scent of snacks and the soft hum of the store. You steal a glance at him—his mask covers part of his face, but his eyes seem contemplative, guarded. He finally picks up a pint of mint chocolate ice cream from the freezer and turns to you, catching you observing him.

“Mint chocolate, huh?” you tease lightly, trying to break the ice. He raises an eyebrow, and you could almost see the confused expression he's making behind the mask.

“Yeah, it’s my favorite flavor,” he replies with a hint of pride.

You can’t help but grimace slightly. “Really? I’m not a fan. The mint just doesn’t sit right with me.”

His eyes widen a little, clearly surprised. “Seriously? What’s wrong with mint? It’s refreshing!”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Refreshing, sure, but it feels like I’m eating toothpaste. I prefer something richer, like chocolate fudge or cookies and cream.”

He leans forward, intrigued. “So you’re a chocolate purist? I can respect that.”

You both chuckle before you continue browsing, the shared laughter and small conversations feel just out of reach, heightening the mystery of each other. Still, as he tosses a pint of mint chocolate ice cream into his basket, there’s a flicker of connection—a shared moment in the late-night glow of the store, where the outside world fades away, leaving just the two of you, uncertain but curious.

After making your selections, you step outside the convenience store, the night air cool against your skin. You find a small table nearby, the kind that’s seen better days but still feels welcoming under the glow of the streetlights.

“Mind if we sit here?” you ask, gesturing to the table. He nods, a hint of relief in his posture as he takes a seat across from you.

You unwrap your snacks, the sounds of crinkling wrappers filling the silence. He carefully sets his cup of mint chocolate ice cream down, glancing around with a hint of uncertainty, as if he was making sure there wasn't anyone around to see him. You look around, and turn to face him once you saw that the coast was clear and there wasn't anyone else around.

“You know, it’s going to be a bit tricky to eat that with the mask on,” you point out playfully, leaning back in your chair.

He looks at you with hesitant eyes, his fingers brushing against the fabric of the mask. “Yeah, but...”

“You could just take it off for a minute,” you say, your voice light but encouraging. “Nobody's around, and besides, I promise I won’t judge if that's what you’re worried about.” You offer him a smile, trying to make it as reassuring as possible.

He hesitates, clearly wrestling with something. Then he sighs, shoulders relaxing a little.“Alright, I guess you have a point.”

He pauses, studying you for a moment, as if deciding whether to trust you with whatever he’s about to reveal. The tension lingers in the air—just a heartbeat of silence—before it disappears as he slowly pulls the mask down, revealing his face.

You freeze, completely caught off guard.

It’s like everything else in the world fades away for a second as you take in his features. His face is almost striking yet gentle at the same time, in a way that feels almost effortless. Sharp jawline. High cheekbones. The kind of face you’d expect to see on the cover of a magazine, but somehow more real in person. His eyes are warm and dream-like but a little guarded, there’s something about them that feels... genuine. A trace of a smile plays at the corners of his lips, and for a second, you wonder if you’ve been staring too long.

“Sorry for the late introduction," he says, his voice a bit hesitant. "I wasn’t sure how to go about it earlier.”

He pauses for a moment, studying your reaction, before continuing, “I’m... Kai—”

“Huening Kai. From the Huening family, right?” The words slip out before you can stop them. You blink a couple of times, mentally scrambling to catch up.

He nods slowly, holding your gaze with a slight intensity. There's a brief flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he adds, “Yeah... I’m Huening Kai. But you can just call me Kai, really. You probably know me because of my sisters.” His voice drops slightly, almost apologetically, as he looks away, an awkwardness settling in.

Your mind races as the pieces fall into place. His sisters. The models. The towering figures in the fashion world whose faces grace billboards and magazines everywhere. You've seen them countless times, admired their poise and style from a distance. But sitting across from you now is the brother—the one who’s always kept himself out of the limelight, the middle child who stays hidden behind a veil of mystery. The one you’ve never seen before.

“Wait a second,” you murmur, still trying to wrap your head around it. “You're... really him? I didn’t realize I was sitting across from someone so... famous.”

He lets out a small chuckle, but there's no warmth behind it. “Well, I’m not exactly famous. Not in the same way they are,” he adds, his tone a little defensive, a little tired.

You raise an eyebrow, sensing something deeper. “What do you mean? Your sisters are huge. You're part of that family. How are you not as well-known?”

He shifts uncomfortably, glancing down at his ice cream cup as though it holds some kind of answer.

“That’s exactly why I don’t like being in the spotlight. I...didn’t want to follow the path they set for me.” His fingers absently trace the rim of the cup.

“My family’s been in the public eye for ages. My sisters, they're everywhere—billboards, magazines, the runway. But I... I never really wanted to be part of all that.”

You lean in a little, intrigued by the rawness in his voice. “So, you... chose a different path?”

He nods, his eyes briefly flickering with something hard to pinpoint—frustration, maybe, or regret.

“Yeah. My family’s always had these big plans for me—training, appearances, all that stuff they thought was best for me. But it wasn’t for me. So I stayed out of the spotlight. I didn’t want that life. I wanted something else—something more... personal, I guess.”

There's a quiet sincerity in his words, a weight that hangs in the air between you. It's a side of him that doesn’t quite match the image you'd imagined, and it makes you want to know more, however you didn't want to dwell on the topic too much.

You realize you're treading dangerously close to territory that feels too personal for a first meeting, especially with someone like him. The last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable, so you quickly clear your throat and shift gears.

“Well, I guess it's only fair I introduce myself too,” you start, trying to keep the mood light, “I'm y/n, you probably know this already, but I work as a barista on the café just down the street, where you saw me. I like to play games during my free time, but you might've already guessed that after seeing the Glaceon keyring.” you say with a chuckle and Kai laughs, you notice the way his shoulders relax a little.

“So, what brought you to the art exhibit last week?” he asks, taking a small scoop of ice cream.

You raise your eyebrows. “Oh, I got invited by a friend. She was one of the artists there. I haven’t seen her in a few months and I was free, so I figured I’d drop by to support her.” You smile, taking out a chocolate chip cookie from the wrapper and taking a bite. “How about you?”

Kai’s eyes flicker with a brief change, like a shadow crossing his expression. You almost miss it—he’s quick to cover it up—but you see the subtle shift. He clears his throat and takes another bite of ice cream, suddenly looking just a little bit more uncomfortable.

“Oh, I just… I went for the atmosphere, I guess,” he says a little too casually. “It seemed like a nice event. I, uh… I like paintings and I go to art galleries sometimes. So I thought I’d check it out.”

You nod, not thinking much of it.

“Yeah, it was pretty cool. Some of the pieces really blew me away, though. There was this one collection—landscapes, mostly—I can't find a way to describe them since I'm not really an artistic person. I think I spent most of my time just standing there, taking them in. They were so vivid. It's a shame the artist chose to hide their identity, though.”

Kai’s hand stiffens for a split second. His eyes flicker to you, then quickly away, his face flushing just a bit, and he suddenly becomes very interested in his ice cream cup.

“Oh… really? That's a bummer..” he says, his voice just a bit too quiet. “You, uh… you liked those pieces?” His tone is a little uncertain, like he’s trying not to let on too much.

“Yeah, it’s a real shame, honestly,” you say, taking another bite of your chocolate chip cookie, enjoying the taste as you talk. “I mean, the art was just so powerful. You could tell there was so much emotion behind it. Especially with the landscapes—like the mountains at sunset? There was this depth to them that was almost… haunting. I wanted to know more, to understand what the artist was feeling when they created it, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” he mutters, his voice softer now. He glances at you briefly before quickly looking away. “It’s always interesting to try and figure out what the artist was thinking, especially when they’re not around to explain it.”

Kai’s gaze drops to his cup, his fingers tapping lightly against the edge. There’s a strange unease in his posture now, like he’s trying to decide if he should say something or not. The words hang in the air, unspoken, before he finally clears his throat.

“Sometimes, though, it’s better to leave things open to interpretation. People see art differently, right?”

“I guess that’s true, I think the best artists aren’t afraid to share their vision. It’s not about just putting a painting out there—it’s about sharing a piece of yourself.” you say thoughtfully, “But I think if the art is good enough, it can speak louder than the artist ever could. Sometimes it’s better to let the art stand on its own.” You smile at him, clearly passionate about the subject.

Kai seems to relax just a fraction, though there’s still a subtle tension around him. He forces a small smile, but there’s something in his eyes—a mix of guilt, embarrassment, and something deeper—that you can’t quite place.

“Yeah… I guess you’re right.” He glances at you, his face a little flushed. “I mean, it’s just art, right? Not everything needs a big explanation.”

You nod in agreement, though you still can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to the story.

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

It's Saturday, and a week has passed since your unexpected encounter with Kai. In that short span of time, so much has happened, yet the days seem to have gotten a little easier, a little brighter. The usual hustle and bustle of working at the café remains, but there's a noticeable lightness to your routine now.

After exchanging numbers, you and Kai started talking more—texting, calling, and meeting up when you could. Slowly, you both opened up, and you began to get to know each other in ways you hadn't anticipated. Kai turned out to be full of surprises. You discovered he was of mixed ethnicity: his mother is Korean, and his father is German-American. That blend of cultures explains his striking features, with sharp eyes and a unique, almost ethereal look.

He also revealed something that made you smile: he was two years younger than you. A fun fact, but it only added to the growing sense of camaraderie between you two. And, to your delight, Kai had a quirky side—you learned that he has a collection of plushies and stuffed animals, something you never would have guessed from his usual cool, laid-back demeanor.

But the best part? The two of you seemed to share so many interests and hobbies. From the same taste in music to mutual love for quirky movies and favorite games, it felt like the more you discovered, the more you had in common. And somehow, as the days went by, it was as if you’d known each other far longer than just a week.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that you’d originally just wanted to befriend Kai. After all, he was kind enough to seek you out just to return your keyring, a small gesture that had caught you off guard. But as you spent more time with him, getting to know him better, you couldn’t help but notice that little flutter in your chest whenever you saw him, heard him laugh, or felt the quiet spark between you two. Before you knew it, a small crush had started to form—a soft, hesitant thing that grew each time you connected.

Well, that was the case… until he asked you to hang out with him on the weekend. You remember the moment clearly, as if it had just happened yesterday.

It was a Wednesday night, and you were walking side by side with Kai after your shift. The streets were quieter than usual, the park just a few blocks away offering a peaceful backdrop to the end of a long day. You were lost in conversation, laughing about something silly when suddenly, he said something that made you stop in your tracks.

Kai took a few more steps ahead before noticing you weren’t following. He turned back, his brows raised in quiet curiosity.

“Wait, what?” you asked, not quite trusting your ears. You had heard him correctly, but you needed to be sure your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you. You looked up at him, waiting for some sort of clarification.

Kai’s lips curled into a soft, amused smile, and he let out a low chuckle. “I said, do you want to come over to my place this weekend? We can play Genshin, Pokémon, watch anime, or… whatever you feel like doing. I just want to hang out with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could filter your words, they spilled out excitedly. “Sure! I'd love to—” You froze mid-sentence, realizing how quickly you’d agreed. You tried to recover, clearing your throat and regaining some semblance of composure. “I mean… I’m off that day, and I don’t really have anything better to do, so... yeah, sure. Why not?” You laughed awkwardly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. You were hoping that he wouldn't notice that state you were in.

Kai smiled at your response, his eyes twinkling with warmth. “Cool, I’ll send you the address when I get home then,” he said casually, but the soft smile he gave you made your heart race again.

Now here you are, standing nervously in front of his apartment door. Your fingers anxiously toy with the hem of your shirt, the weight of indecision hanging over you. Should you ring the doorbell now, or wait just a little longer? You pull your phone from your pocket once again, unlocking it to check your reflection in the camera, making sure your makeup is still on point.

You catch yourself wondering if you’ve overdone it, but can’t help the doubt creeping in. It is your first time meeting up with him on the weekend, so why settle for the usual work clothes when you can dress up a little? So that's exactly what you did. You chose to go for a simple, casual yet cute vibe for your outfit, a reflection of your personality. Still, the thought of being alone with him in his space makes your stomach flutter with nerves.

After a long, drawn-out moment of hesitation, you take a deep breath to steady yourself, then press the doorbell. Your heart pounds as you wait, counting the seconds, the anticipation building with every beat. Finally, the door clicks open.

You look up and find Kai standing in the doorway. He’s dressed casually, wearing a loose gray hoodie and black sweatpants. It’s nothing extravagant, but the moment your eyes meet, a rush of warmth floods your cheeks. You’ve seen him dressed in something similar before, but there’s something about seeing him in these comfortable, almost cozy clothes that sends your thoughts spinning.

Lately, you've noticed that it’s been harder to keep those stray thoughts at bay. You can’t help but think about him at the oddest moments. You catch yourself re-reading his texts when work gets stressful, and somehow, it always makes you smile. It’s gotten to the point where your co-worker has noticed you spacing out, daydreaming in the middle of a shift. Your little “crush” on him has turned into something more… something that you can’t quite shake off.

“Hey, Y/N! Sorry if I kept you waiting,” Kai says, running a hand through his hair as he gestures for you to come inside.

“Hey, Kai. Not at all, don’t worry!” You force a smile, trying to steady your racing heart, and step inside.

Your eyes quickly scan the unfamiliar space as he shuts the door behind you. You flinch slightly at the sound, the soft click of the door locking behind you amplifying the tension in the air.

As you step inside, you immediately notice how spacious the apartment feels. The high ceilings and open layout give it a sense of freedom, like the space was designed to breathe. Natural light pours in through large windows, casting soft beams that highlight the simple yet creative details of the room.

It’s clear that this place reflects Kai in every corner. The furniture is minimalistic, but it’s carefully chosen, with a mix of modern lines and vintage pieces that feel both comfortable and intentional.

It’s really happening. You’re alone with him now... in his house. But it’s just to hang out. Nothing weird about it. Just play some games, maybe have a laugh... You try to convince yourself, but the fluttering in your stomach refuses to settle.

Kai turns to you with a quick glance, then smiles softly. “Follow me. I have something to show you.”

You nod, feeling your heart pick up its pace, and follow him as he leads you down a short hallway. After a few steps, he stops in front of a closed door, his hand hovering over the doorknob. You pause too, standing beside him, your gaze lingering on his hand as he slowly, almost cautiously, wraps his fingers around the handle.

“I...”, he looks at you for just a second, his eyes flickering with something unreadable before he looks away, his hesitation hanging heavy in the air.

The nervousness in your own chest grows with his. What’s going on? You think, worry creeping in as you watch him falter.

“What's wrong?” you ask, your voice soft, but the concern evident in the way you step closer to him.

The earlier tension shifts, replaced by a different kind of unease. It’s not about you anymore—it’s about him. You don’t want him to feel uncomfortable, especially if something is making him hesitate this much.

You gently reach out, placing your hand on his free one. A small, comforting smile pulls at your lips as you give his hand a reassuring squeeze. His fingers loosen slightly on the doorknob, but he doesn't pull away from your touch.

Kai looks at you, his eyes softening, and for the first time since you arrived, he seems to exhale, a quiet calm settling over him. The tension in his shoulders eases, and you can almost see him relax, if only just a little.

“You're probably going to hate me for this, but I didn't want to keep any secrets from you.” he says, a light laugh escaping him, though there’s an edge of uncertainty in it. You shake your head, not needing to hear more.

Your heart races. It dawns on you then: whatever lies behind that door, he’s kept it hidden. And now, he trusts you enough to share it. There’s a mixture of excitement and anticipation building in your chest, but also a growing sense of wonder.

What could it be? What secret does he keep in that room? You think to yourself.

Kai’s hand tightens around yours for a brief moment before he takes a deep breath and slowly pushes the door open, revealing the unknown inside.

The door creaks open, and you step into the room, immediately struck by the soft, golden light pouring in through the large window at the far wall. The sunlight spills across the space, bathing everything in a warm, almost dreamlike glow. It feels intimate, personal—like you’ve stepped into something that is deeply, intrinsically Kai.

You take a few steps further in, your gaze drawn to the walls. The paintings are everywhere—some framed and hung meticulously, others leaning casually against the walls as if still waiting for their final placement. The works range from precise and vivid to rough and abstract, but they all share a raw energy, a depth of emotion that’s impossible to ignore.

Some of the paintings are finished—brilliantly detailed and vibrant with emotion. Others are in progress, the brushstrokes thick and loose, as though caught mid-thought. And the way the light catches on the unfinished works, highlighting the vivid streaks of color, you get the feeling that each piece was crafted here in this very room, in that same soft, intimate light. The unfinished ones don’t feel incomplete—they feel alive, as if the artist is still in the process of giving birth to something profound.

Your heart beats a little faster as your eyes take in the sight. The realization hits you like a wave.

These paintings—they’re the ones you saw at the exhibit. The ones that had captivated you, left you wondering about the mysterious anonymous artist behind them. You remember standing in that gallery, looking at the work, feeling a strange, magnetic pull to it, wondering about the artist—who they were, what their story was, why they had chosen to remain faceless, unknown.

And now you know. The artist—the one who had everyone buzzing, everyone desperate to know their identity—is Kai.

The pieces on the walls now are familiar, but they’re so much more than you expected. You had been amazed by them at the gallery, but standing here in the room where they were created, the connection to each brushstroke, each layer of paint, feels much deeper. This is where it all started. This is where Kai has poured himself into every canvas, shaping emotions and stories in silence. And now, it feels like the weight of that silence is finally being lifted.

You turn to Kai, and for a brief moment, you can’t speak. The air between you is thick with the unspoken truth.

He’s watching you, his posture tense, but his eyes—the vulnerability in them is unmistakable. His gaze flickers over to the paintings, then quickly shifts back to you, as if he’s bracing himself for your reaction.

“I never thought I’d show anyone this side of me,” Kai says quietly, his voice almost lost in the stillness of the room. “But the world... they wanted to know who I was. The anonymous artist, the one behind these paintings... I didn’t want to reveal it. Not like this.”

Your breath catches, and you feel a tightness in your chest. The mystery, the anonymity—it all makes sense now. Everyone had been so desperate to uncover the artist behind the work, but Kai wasn’t ready to give that part of himself away. Not until now.

You move closer, your hand instinctively reaching out for his, a silent gesture of comfort, of connection.

“But you’re ready now,” you say softly, the weight of his words sinking in. “You’ve already shared your work with the world, but this... this is something deeper, isn’t it?”

Kai nods, his eyes softening as he meets your gaze. There’s something almost relieved in his expression, like the burden of secrecy is finally lifting.

“I wasn’t ready to face what it would mean to have everyone know. But I think...” His voice falters for a moment, as if unsure of what he’s saying, but then he exhales deeply, as if coming to terms with it. “I think I’m ready for you to see it. For you to know.”

Your heart races as you take in his words. The paintings—the ones that had left you breathless, the ones that had sparked so many questions—are his. This whole time, you had admired them from afar, but now you see the artist behind them. You see him.

“They’re incredible, Kai,” you say, your voice soft, but full of awe. “The world deserves to know you did this. They deserve to see the person behind these works.”

He smiles, a slow, hesitant curve of his lips, and for the first time, you see the weight of the secret lifting from him. “Maybe,” he murmurs. “Maybe I’ll let them know. Maybe I’m ready.”

The room feels smaller now, not in a confining way, but in a way that draws you closer to him. This moment, this revelation, it’s like the light in the room has shifted, casting everything in a new, softer glow.

The paintings aren’t just paintings anymore—they’re pieces of Kai, of his journey, and they’re now part of something shared between the two of you.

You stand there, overwhelmed by the beauty of the room, the paintings, and the connection between them and Kai. It all feels so personal, so intimate. The realization hits you like a wave: Kai, the anonymous artist behind the work that captivated you, is standing right beside you.

Before you can stop yourself, your tears start to fall, unbidden and unexpected. You quickly wipe at your eyes, laughing nervously. You’re not sad—far from it—but overwhelmed, moved by the beauty of it all, and by the knowledge that Kai, the man you’re standing next to, is the one who created these masterpieces.

As silly as it may seem, it felt like fate had woven your paths together. From the moment his paintings first captivated you at the art exhibit to the chance encounter with him later that same day when you dropped your keyring, everything seemed to lead to this. Then there was that moment at the café when he finally returned it to you after searching for you for so long. And now, discovering that it was Kai behind those paintings all along, you’re overwhelmed with emotion. His presence beside you feels warmer than ever, like everything finally makes sense.

You don’t even realize it until Kai’s voice breaks through the quiet of the room, filled with concern.

“Hey,” he says softly, his eyes instantly narrowing as they scan your face. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

You quickly swipe at your face, trying to clear the tears, but they keep coming, one or two slipping past your efforts.

“I’m fine,” you insist, shaking your head as you laugh nervously. “It’s nothing bad, I promise.”

But Kai is unconvinced. He steps closer, his brow furrowing with concern, and he gently takes a step toward you, his eyes searching yours. “You’re crying, y/n.” he points out, teasing but with an undercurrent of worry. “Is this because I’m the artist behind all those paintings? Was it that dramatic for you?”

You freeze, blinking up at him, and before you can catch yourself, you let the words slip out.

“I… I just think I’m falling for you, okay? You keep surprising me.”

The words escape before you can stop them, and you freeze, horrified by your own slip. A sharp blush spreads across your cheeks, and you take a step back, raising your hands defensively.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean—”

Kai blinks, his eyes widening slightly, and then he grins, a teasing smirk creeping onto his lips. “Falling for me, huh?” he tilts his head slightly, his voice taking on a playful tone. “Was it the art that did it? Getting you all emotional like that? Here I thought you were crying because you were upset.”

Your face burns with embarrassment, and you’re about to stammer out some kind of awkward excuse when Kai steps forward, his grin softening.

You open your mouth to explain, but nothing comes out. The silence stretches, and the embarrassment makes your chest tighten. You look down at your feet, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. You want to say something—anything—to fix this, to undo the slip. But before you can even manage a breath, Kai’s hand gently lifts your chin, his touch soft but firm.

You glance up at him, trying to gather your thoughts, but before you can speak, Kai leans in and closes the distance between you, slowly tilting your face upward. Your breath hitches in your throat, and before you can process what’s happening, his lips are on yours.

You freeze, the suddenness of it making your heart skip a beat. The world seems to blur around you, and for a few seconds, you don’t know how to react. But then, slowly, your nerves ease, and something inside you unravels. You find yourself responding, your hand moving to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepens, soft but full of unspoken emotion.

When you finally pull back, your chest is tight, your breath shallow. You look at him, a little dazed, unsure of what just happened but feeling the heat of it all. Kai’s smile is softer now, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that makes your heart race even more.

“You’re not the only one,” he says quietly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I’ve been falling for you too, y/n.”

The moment he confirms that he feels the same way, something inside you shifts—like a switch has been flipped, igniting something deep within you. You're not sure what it is, but it’s electric, a surge of warmth that floods your chest. Slowly, your hand, which had been resting on the back of his neck, moves upward to gently slide through his hair. The sensation of his softness beneath your fingers sends a thrill through you, and your breath catches as you look at him with dazed eyes.

Heat spreads through your body within seconds, an intense pull toward him that you can’t ignore.

Everything feels sharper, more vivid, the air between you charged with something undeniable.

“You can't just stop there, you know...” you murmur softly, almost like a whisper, your voice barely breaking the silence. The words feel delicate, but there’s a quiet hunger in them that you didn’t expect.

Kai’s gaze shifts instantly—deeper, more intense. His eyes darken, and something in the air between you changes, as though the entire room tightens around the both of you. You feel it in the way he looks at you, like he’s reading you, understanding what you need even before you do.

“Who told you I was going to stop there?” His voice drops lower, laced with something darker, more deliberate.

“We're just getting started, noona.”

Oh well, I guess we're saving Genshin and Pokémon for next time.....

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

[parasolladyansy]

hello! i've liked ansy's adventure for a while, and i noticed how you play on japanese names for the pokemon, especially for mizumi's and sasmu's. what do you think of the languages in the pokemon world? i can guess hisuian equals japanese, but does sinnohan/kantonese also translate into japanese? or the four japanese-based regions are adapted into english ( or unovan?) i don't know if i'm explaining myself, but how do you view the pkmn languages and their equivalents in our world?

こんばんは! Good evening! Thank you for following along ^o^/

Class is in session lol! Professor Laventon seems to be most comfortable writing in his native Galarian, though he also has various notes in traditional “Japanese”, written vertically & read right to left.

So, language is a very interesting thing in fiction, & the Pokeverse is no exception! Through the games (& especially the latest ones, Scarlet / Violet) we’ve had a number of characters who spoke in different languages. I remember a couple of NPC’s in BW Unova, there’s Fantina in Sinnoh who peppers her speech with Kalosian (French), & a Hiker on Galar’s Route 6 who spoke what I’m guessing was Paldean (Spanish) rather than Galarian (English). Then in SV, we have Mr. Salvatore who teaches (& uses) many languages (off the top of my head, I remember him teaching how to say “thank you” in Spanish, French, Chinese, & German).

It does get tricky when it comes to the “Japanese” regions of Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh / Hisui, & Kitakami, as those regions otherwise make up one country in our world, but this has yet to have been canonically established (which is why I always put “Japan” / “Japanese” in quotes, as there currently isn’t a name for that one country, same with “America”). I do believe they share the same language - at the very least Hisui & Kitakami have the same written script, & I feel pretty confident that if they were to retcon it, they would have the other “Japanese” regions use it, too (before Legends Arceus, they just used random shapes that didn’t seem to spell anything, which I interpreted to just be placeholder characters).

If there is a common language in their world (& I think is, from characters from different regions being able to talk to each other no problem), I personally would guess it to be “Japanese” - as we look at the other regions, we can see a sort of Japanese flavor that would otherwise not be there (though they clearly did their homework on the various parts of the world these regions reflect!). Of course, Pokémon is from Japan, so it would make sense that they would add some of their own culture to this world they created. For a possible in-universe explanation, the Pokeverse seemed to have started in Japan (specifically in Sinnoh as we learned in Legends Arceus, so I guess their universe actually is geocentric like old astronomers used to think ours was?).

I think that’s about it. In DxP REWRITE, while my own language is American-English (& beginner-level Japanese lol) so I read the characters to be speaking American-English, they are actually speaking “Japanese” while in Sinnoh (which is why I haven’t really been peppering Ansy’s dialogue with Japanese). I have tried to write in the “Japanese” or Galarian scripts for signs & things a couple times:

The sign just says “Gear Station”

Here I (tried to lol) translate Mizumi’s letter to Japanese then wrote it out in in-game characters (in the modern horizontal, as Mizumi is from the modern era writing to someone in the modern era).

Thanks for reading yet another post of me geeking out lol. Feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments! じゃあ、またね! Until next time! ^o^/

—

PS: For funsies, here’s the (non-canonical, as these were made by fans) references I’ve been using when writing in either Galarian or “Japanese” in DxP REWRITE:

I personally was confused by the “Japanese” script also being alphabetical rather than phonetic like hiragana / katakana (two common scripts in Japan, the first being mostly used to spell Japanese words while katakana is used to spell foreign words - the third script, kanji, is used to write whole words). If that is the case (which is how I wrote it in Mizumi’s letter), “Japanese” is written in what’s called “romanji”, where they write out words in the Latin (aka Roman) alphabet rather than phonetically: “ありがとうございます” becomes “arigatō-gozaimasu” (“thank you very much”).

Whether it is actually written out that way in game though…? At a glance of the signs I saw in Hisui & Kitakami, it does look like it’s more like hiragana & kanji instead, but this chart is all I got for now. Any Japanese folks or fluent Japanese-readers who can tell me if there’s anything out there in the Japanese fandom about this, please lemme know so I can do right by it into future - as of writing this, I haven’t seen much else among the English-speaking fandom 8u8;

As for the Galarian script, it’s clearly based on the Latin alphabet that much of the Western world uses for our various languages - we see it in Paldea as well as Galar, & according to the trailer in Pokemon ZA, they retconned it to be used in Kalos as well. In universe, I wonder if they were at all influenced by the Unown, being based on the Latin alphabet themselves. Again, who knows? (though I question the accuracy of this particular font / chart: if it is, the first thing Laventon’s chalkboard says “REXBOQ” lol XD)

[thedream14]

I recently saw several posts about Logan being a polyglot. From my personal perspective, I agree.

The guy has been around for over 200 years, so it's impossible for him not to know at least the basic structure of other languages like German or French. Plus, we're talking about a war veteran.

Usually, these people, by interacting for so long with other cultures, end up learning from the locals. Also, in terms of military strategy, many soldiers learn words, phrases, and codes from the language spoken by the enemy.

So if we assume the Wolverine: Origins montage is canon, Logan served in both World Wars on the Allied side. He was at the D-Day landings in France and was a prisoner of war in Japan… (PS: I don’t know how my friend managed to get to Asia over the course of a year amidst all the chaos of WWII 👀 Mis respetos lol). Later, the guy was also sent to serve in Vietnam.

As we know from the comics, Logan ended up learning Japanese during his time in Japan. In that sense, it’s possible to assume that he probably learned several languages ​​during his military service in Europe, such as French, German, Italian or Spanish. In addition, he most likely also managed to learn Vietnamese.

It is even possible that in Vietnam he reinforced his French, since in that country, by the early 1950s, many people spoke French, due to its colonial past (French Indochina).

In short, Logan being a polyglot is more canon than the Poolverine being roommates.

***

Personally, I would like to think that Logan knows Spanish and since he took on the role of Laura's father, he has been practicing and reinforcing his knowledge of the language.

Logan understands the importance of speaking another language and how it help to understand the depth of feelings and ideas. That is why Logan is interested in practicing and learning his daughter's native language.

For Laura, that interest translates into love. She is always grateful for her father's efforts to get closer to her. Also, she admires his dedication.

- FUCK ! Laura, can you come over for a moment? I have a question…

- Sureee. I’m all ears.

- What is the preterite perfect supposed to be?

- mmm very good question, I don't know either.

- The Fuck… aren't you supposed to speak spanish?

- Yes… But let’s say I only know one rule…

- which one?

- The rule that says: Te amo mucho papá.

- that is not a rule…

- No, but it is a fact.

- You know, now that I think about it, I also know a grammar rule. Do you want to know what it is?

- Sure.

- The rule says something like: También te amo, mi adorada hija.

[sissylittlefeather]

Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming: Chapter 1

A/N: Ahhhhh a new series!!! This is the one that won the poll, so I hope y'all love it! Also, I decided to play with POV on this one, so I'm telling it from Elvis's perspective. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments!!

ICYMI, this is the Elvis x OC Vivian Choquette series. Want to learn more about her? Here.

PS- I love you @ccab for loving Vivian as much as I do before I even write the story!

Warnings: Not much, this is gonna start slow, but trust me, it'll heat up. Kissing, cussing, alcohol use, smoking

Word count: ~2.4k

By September of '59, Elvis was used to the army. He was used to the routine, used to the work, used to the people, used to the fans, and used to looking for a good time wherever he could find it. On this particular night, he found it at a party at his own house in Bad Nauheim. All his friends were there, along with a plethora of girls to keep everyone interested. Elvis moved through the party easily, making small talk and keeping everyone stocked on drinks, despite the fact that he didn't have any himself. Sometimes he imbibed, but usually he didn't. Although his beloved mama was gone, what he learned from her still lived in the forefront of his memory. That is, unless he found himself at the Moulin Rouge. But that was different. Here at his own house, he preferred to remain in control.

Despite having a girlfriend back at home, he moves through the house looking for a girl to talk to. That's when he notices her in a corner, her dark hair swept into a low ponytail and blue eyes glancing lazily around the room. She almost seems bored. So much so that she turns to the bookshelf that came with the house and pulls a book down. She opens it and begins to read. Elvis is intrigued by the kind of woman who reads at a party. He begins to walk over to her and realizes that the book is in French. He panics for a second and then remembers that the guys taught him a phrase in French. Surely he can figure out how to communicate with her. Besides, most of these French girls speak a little English.

He swaggers up to her, ready to try out his French. He stands there in front of her for a minute before she looks up at him.

"Bonjour."

"Mhmm." She looks down at her book, but he doesn't leave. He's suddenly nervous, but he decides to risk it. She's pretty enough that it might be worth it.

"Uhh, est-ce que tu aimes le sexe?"

She looks up at him suddenly and laughs.

"What? Did I pronounce it wrong?" She laughs even harder. When she finally catches her breath, she holds up a hand.

"First of all, I speak English. Second of all, please don't ever say that to anyone ever again."

"Oh. Why?"

"You just asked me if I like sex."

"What?! Those motherfu- I mean, those jerks. They told me it meant 'how are you'."

"And you believed them? It literally has the word 'sex' in it."

"Well, I don't know! I don't speak French!"

"Obviously." She looks back down at her book. He's not ready to give up, though.

"Hey, if you speak English, why are you reading in French?"

"My mother was French. I speak and read it because of her." She answers without looking up from the page.

"Was?"

"She's been gone for a while now. I live with my stepdad. He's an officer in the army." He feels the pain of having lost his mother too soon and looks at her with even more softness and affection than he did before.

"I'm Elvis." She looks up at him.

"I know." He nods and she notices the look he's giving her. "You know, I'm actually here with someone."

"Oh?"

"Mhmm." She points across the party to Charlie, who's making his way to her with drinks.

"Charlie?!"

"Yes."

"Well, goddamn." Charlie makes it over to them and hands her one of the drinks. He throws his arm around her casually and looks up at Elvis.

"Hey buddy. I see you met my lady."

"Well, not officially..." She holds her hand out to him.

"Vivian Choquette. Nice to meet you, Elvis Presley." He takes her hand and has the strangest urge to kiss it, but he'd never do such a thing with Charlie right there. He's been a good friend to Elvis, so no matter how much he likes her, he won't risk their friendship. Instead, he shakes her hand like he would if she was a man.

"Yeah, likewise." Elvis nods awkwardly and then turns to go back to the party. It's too bad that she's there with Charlie. He wanders around a little more, before he sees a girl that will change the trajectory of his whole life. Still, he never forgets the girl he met first.

******

The next day, Elvis sits at lunch with Charlie.

"So what did you think of my girl?" Elvis chokes a little on his food and tries to think of how he can answer without letting on that he hasn't stopped thinking about her.

"Oh, she's... she's somethin' else."

"Ain't she? I saw you talking to that cute little thing though. She seemed like somethin' else too."

"Priscilla? Oh, yeah."

"Little young, though."

"Yeah..." Elvis tries to focus on Priscilla, but all he can think about is Vivian. If she wasn't with Charlie, she'd be exactly what he's looking for. He's not sure how he knows that based on the half of a conversation they had, but something about her just draws him to her. Maybe it's the fact that she seems deeper than most of the girls he's encountered. Maybe it's because she didn't fall all over herself to talk to him. Maybe it's because she understands the pain of losing a parent. Whatever the reason, he can't stop wishing that she hadn't met Charlie first.

******

About three weeks later, Elvis is walking around town and he passes a cafe. He doesn't think much of it until he sees someone he recognizes sitting at one of the little tables. His heart jumps a bit at the thought of talking to her again. Then, he remembers Charlie with his arm around her. He decides to keep walking, but as he gets a little closer, he notices her shoulders are shaking. She's got her long, dark hair in her face, so he can't see her eyes, but it looks like she might be crying. He can't let her sit there alone if that's the case.

He cautiously approaches the table and realizes he was right. Her sniffling is quiet, but he can hear it. She's got a lit cigarette in one hand, and it looks like she's forgotten it's there. Her other hand fiddles with her coffee cup on its saucer. When he gets to her, he's not exactly sure what to do. He didn't have much of a plan beyond walking to the table. After hesitating for a second, he pulls the chair across from her out to sit in, but it makes a horrible screeching sound and she looks up startled.

"What the f-"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry. It's just me."

"God, Elvis, you scared me."

"I'm sorry, honey, can I sit down?" She wipes her face and nods.

"Yeah, sure, I guess so." He sits down across from her and watches as she puts out her cigarette and continues trying to wipe her face clean.

"Are you... are you alright?"

"Ha! Yeah, I'm just fine." She pulls out another cigarette and lights it. They sit in silence for a bit while Elvis tries to think of what to say.

"You sure?" Vivian takes a puff of her cigarette and blows it straight up into the air.

"Do I look alright?" Elvis hesitates. He wants to say that she looks beautiful, but it doesn't feel appropriate.

"You seem upset."

"You're very observant." She responds spitefully. He looks down at his hands in his lap. "I'm sorry; that was rude. You're not the one that cheated on me and abandoned me."

"No... Charlie?" She takes a drag and holds her breath, nodding. Finally, she has to exhale, so she does and then starts to cry again. It's killing Elvis to sit there and watch her cry without doing something about it. He stands up and offers her his hand. "Come on."

"What? Where are we going?"

"My house is only a block from here. You can cry in private." She looks up at him and he can tell she's thinking about saying no. "I won't hurt you. Come on."

She puts her cigarette out and grabs her purse, taking the hand he offered her. They walk in silence to his house, but they continue to hold hands. When he finally gets her settled on the sofa, he sits next to her and leans back, spreading his legs wide. He's trying to indicate that she can relax and sit comfortably too. To his utter shock, she slips her shoes off and tucks her feet up under herself, also getting comfortable.

"So, he cheated on you?"

"Well, I guess that's not exactly fair."

"What do you mean?"

"I was the one he cheated with. Turns out he's been writing letters to another girl for a while."

"Ohhhh... and you found out about it." He thinks about the girl he writes letters to at home. What would she think of him here on the couch with this girl.

"Yes. I didn't want to be the other woman. Besides I thought he... well... it's stupid."

"What did you think?"

"I thought he wanted to marry me." Elvis's eyebrows shoot straight up before he can stop them. He never thought of Charlie as the marrying kind. Then again, he can understand not wanting to let Vivian go. "See, even you think I'm stupid."

"No, I don't. I think you just had hope. There's nothing wrong with that."

"There is if you're me." He sits up and looks into her eyes. The sadness rolling off of her is about to kill him.

"Why do you say that?" She looks up trying to keep herself from crying, but it doesn't work and fat teardrops slide down her cheeks.

"Everybody leaves me. My father left me. Then my mother left me. The first boy I loved. And now Charlie. Why does everyone leave? What's wrong with me?"

He scoots close to her and pulls her into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. She doesn't object. Instead she lets herself be comforted as she continues to cry. He strokes her hair and kisses the top of her head. The pain of loss is something he's all too familiar with. He takes her face in the palm of his hand and looks into her eyes.

"Viv, this is not your fault. There's nothing wrong with you. I know what it's like to lose people too soon and it hurts. But it's not because of you."

"Why does it feel like no one wants me?" This smashes his heart into a thousand pieces. He wants her so badly it hurts.

"That can't possibly be true." Just tell her. Say it. Say 'I want you.' He wills himself to tell her the truth, but he just can't.

"You're sweet, Elvis." He smiles awkwardly and tries to ignore the fact that she pats his thigh. She leans her head on his shoulder again and snuggles into the side of his body. He knows she's just seeking comfort, so he tries to stay focused on being that. But he is a young man and she is a girl with her hand on his thigh and his imagination is running wild with what would happen if he carried her to his bedroom. He swallows deeply and begs his body not to respond physically to what's in his mind.

Still, there's an electric charge in the air that she has to notice too. Almost at the same time, they pull back and look into each other's eyes. He puts his knuckle under her chin and looks down at her lips. When she closes her eyes, he knows he has the green light, so he leans in and softly presses his lips to hers. Something bubbles up inside him and his hands begin to tremble. He backs up slightly and hovers just above her lips. They both smile and he dives back in for a deeper kiss, dipping his tongue into her mouth to slide against hers. She nibbles on his bottom lip a little and he groans. His hands rest on her hips in an attempt to get them to stop shaking and he eventually lifts her into his lap to straddle him. The intensity of their kissing increases as his hands roam over her body.

Suddenly, she pulls back breathlessly.

"Wait. Elvis, do you have a girlfriend back home?" His mouth pops open. He's not sure how to answer. Yes, he has Anita at home, but for the right girl, for her, he'd end that in a heartbeat. "Answer the question."

"Well... I-I-I..."

"That's all I need to hear." She peels herself off of him and stands up, smoothing her hair.

"No, honey, wait-"

"No. You're basically doing the same thing that Charlie just did. All you G.I.s are the same."

"Hon, please-"

"My name is Vivian!"

"Viv, just, don't leave..." she tries to put her heels back on and stumbles to get the second one on. He uses both hands to steady her as she does.

"Elvis, no. Good luck with Priscilla."

"Wait-?"

"You know she's 14."

"She's 14?!"

"So, you know, have fun with that." Vivian stomps towards the door with him close on her heels. He doesn't know how to make her understand that she's all he wants. Priscilla, Anita, none of them compare to her. But he doesn't know how to say that, so instead he watches as she walks out his front door, catches a cab, and disappears from his life.

******

Or so he thinks. In 1961, Elvis is home from the army and back to his film career. In March, he leaves the continental US to get ready to film Blue Hawaii. He arrives and goes to a cast meeting on set where the director is excited to introduce his costar. His first view of her is from behind and his heart skips. Surely it can't be?

"This is Vivian Choquette. She'll be playing your girlfriend, Maile Duval." She turns to face him and smiles awkwardly. Elvis tries to hide his excitement, hoping his trembling hands won't give him away.

"Hello again..."

******

Until chapter 2. Thoughts so far?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax

[knine-nights-loves-ac]

This started as an ask I was gonna send to @teecupangel but then it got like seven paragraphs long and I decided fuck it I’m just gonna make it a post and @ teecup. So here goes!

Another Pokémon!Desmond idea (ps: this got long, tldr; shiny Goomy uncatchable Des)

So to set the stage, AC universe happens as normal but, in the AC universe, pokemon as a franchise doesn’t exist. Just not a thing at all. So, starting off Desmond (who doesn’t know what Pokémon is) dies because of the Eye and poofs into a new universe as he does every other Tuesday.

Now, flash to a Pokémon region. I’m biased so I’ll say Kalos. But most work. Desmond appears on one of the earlier routes as a shiny Pokémon. Because I’m still biased, let’s say a shiny Goomy even though Goomies shouldn’t spawn there.

Desmond, newly goopified, doesn’t know what the fuck is going on. He’s a glob now. And the animals around him are fucking weird. And seemingly only live in the tall grass.

He can’t figure out how to use any of his “moves” outside of basically tackle and scratch and other similarly basic things. So he’s pretty dam weak, probably relatively low level, only thing he has going for him is that he’s fast and, relatively, smart. He’s still got human level intelligence which is enough to outsmart the vast majority of Pokémon.

He spends some time on this route, getting used to things, using his Eagle Vision (which he still has) to find berries, avoiding fights, and just enjoying his forced retirement to another universe. It’s Desmond, unless properly motivated, I think he’d be willing to settle in and chill.

But uh oh, trouble is afoot. In the form of! A CHILD no

This little kid toddles down the path with a belt full of pokeballs. Desmond, who is still new to this world, sees the kid and decides to approach. Why? Idk man, the brain cell got burned by the Eye.

The kid is like “OH MY GOD SHINY GOOMY!” And immediately initiates a Pokémon battle.

How does this feel to Desmond? Im not sure. But he definitely can tell somethings up when the kid starts screaming in another language, sounds like French? (If you get why, you get a cookie), and throws a ball that somehow summons another creature. Let’s say a Caterpie.

The Caterpie is low level, about as intelligent as a real caterpillar, and big. (Fun fact apparently Goomy and Caterpie are the same height). Now Desmond is concerned, especially when the kid yells a command and the huge ass bug attacks him. Caterpie only knows like three moves so it probably just tackles. Desmond, not being an idiot or actually a real Pokémon, dodges. The kid looks surprised but yells again and the Caterpie attacks again. After a few times, Desmond decides “Fuck this shit, I’m out.” and nopes on out of there. The kid is absolutely shocked that the shiny Goomy just ran from the battle and also that it dodged everything.

Desmond meanwhile, hidden now, checks on the kid and sees that they’re blue in Eagle Vision. He’s not sure whether to be surprised or not. On the one hand, he’s never seen a kid that was red, but on the other hand, this kid attacked him.

He metaphorically shrugs it off and continues foraging for berries, he’s trying out new combinations.

Meanwhile, this child runs back to wherever they came from, and eagerly spreads the news about the wild shiny Goomy they saw. Most people don’t believe them, but a couple other kids are curious enough to go looking later.

Another day begins and Desmond stumbles upon a group of kids this time. The original kid among them. They’re speaking quickly, yeah he’s pretty sure it’s French, too bad that’s one of the languages he barely gets (I don’t care if he’d know some via Ezio, he’d know 15th century French, not modern day Pokémon world French). They’re gesturing wildly and some of them are looking accusatorially at the original kid. Desmond tries to get a little closer and, just his luck, stumbles into view of the group. Uh oh.

Several minutes later, the kids are confused as hell, several Caterpies are furiously working their hamster wheel brains to understand what’s happening, and Desmond is starting to question what’s up with the people in this universe.

But something special happened this time. At one point, one of the kids threw a red and white ball at him. It bounced off his head and rolled on the ground, doing nothing. Desmond was just annoyed. The kids were flabbergasted.

Rumors spread until actual researchers are tramping through the tall grass. Desmond is definitely avoiding them. Even if they’re white in Eagle Vision, those lab coats remind him a bit too much of Abstergo.

Eventually, after the human presence becomes a bit too much, Desmond decides to hit the road and moves out from his comfy little tall grass patch in the middle of the night. He settles down again somewhere else.

Repeat cycle a few times until the whole of Kalos has heard tell of this shiny Goomy who nobody can catch and seems to roam the whole region.

Idk what’s happening from there. Begin plot of Pokémon X/Y? Maybe Desmond meets AZ? Lots of options but idk.

[brave-and-gentle]

college/university sucks but do you have any hc’s for college!jean :)

OFC I do!! (ps I hope your college/university life gets better, I am sending you the best of the best vibes).

College!jean is a star basketball player. His senior year, he was voted captain (Eren was pissed about this).

College!jean was a virgin for much longer than he'd like to admit. He was a menace on Tindr, but when it came time to seal the deal, he usually chickened out.

College!jean excels in the humanities and joined an art club.

College!jean is the best cook out of all of his friends, thanks to Mama Kirstein. They all come over to his apartment to learn how to cook.

College!jean has a massive crush on the campus nurse who is a recent graduate. He's extremely on top of getting his flu shots. If he gets so much as a sniffle, he'll be over there in a flash.

College!jean was a severe light weight his first year. It only took two beers for him to be under the table. Connie never let him hear the end of it.

College!jean speaks in French when he's really drunk.

College!jean acts nonchalant about studying, but truth be told, he can often be found on the quiet third floor of the library, the "if you so much turn a page loudly people will glare at you" kind of quiet.

College!jean loves a good party, but he also doesn't mind being the designated driver and will often help Marco corral their drunk friends back home - it's like herding cats (the cats being Sasha and Connie).

College!jean seriously considered doing a study abroad semester in France, but withdrew his application because he couldn't stand the thought of being away from his mom for so long.

College!jean got banned from a frat house for starting a fight with Eren (Eren also got banned).

College!jean is a perfectionist - he lives in fear of a B+.

College!jean drunk cried the night before graduation, wailing about how much he's going to miss Marco, Connie, and Sasha. . . even though they're literally all moving to the same city.

[desultory-novice]

Sir Uther walks up to Noir Fontaine with purpose, having his usual happy-go-lucky smile and perky attitude. It was a surprise to see yet another human in this tournament ...well, atleast human-like. He instinctively reaches out for a handshake, eyes locked on Noir's face.

"Are you human?! MY~! I only ever saw the other one named Jade! Unlike her, you seem to be named after a color in french! Do tell, are there still any left of your species? Or are you all nearly extinct? Do you also have a history with Dark Matter in particular? I have so many questions~!! ☆"

His crystal eyes twinkle in delight, this truly was an opportunity to gain so much useful knowledge!

"Oh! And that entity, Zero as well! Does she exist in your world?"

"Hi! Wow! You're big! Bigger than I thought you round guys got!" 

Noir greets you with a boyish smile, though... ...He does not accept the handshake.

"You look like one of those Galactic Soldier Alliance people! I wrote fanfic about you! I can't let you read it because it's really cringe, but that's only cause when I was young I dreamed of being a hero, so...if you're ever recruiting, let me know maybe?! I'm not all that strong... but I'm passionate and have a strong sense of justice and somehow, I've got a lot of experience handling situations where all the evidence you killed anyone is gone because their bodies just disperse into matter once they're dead enough and the snow hides all the blood!"

[cw: mild body horror below]

"...What was I saying? Oh, yeah! I'm human! Whoa, there's another human here too? I should've figured that out, huh? I feel like I've been in a daze since I got here (or maybe even longer than that) and have been having a really hard time paying attention to stuff till lately when it all started coming back into my head REALLY FAST!"

"?! Do you speak French?! My mom taught my sister and me a little French and Japanese, cause of our ancestry, (what's my dad? I don't know! Maybe he's French-Japanese too?!) though we mostly speak Global at home. My name's supposed to be in Global but it's pretty cool that it means something in French too. 'Dark.' Sometimes I wonder if I was named after my hair? Though my sister's is the same color, pretty much, so that couldn't be it. Probably a coincidence?"

"Speaking of, my sister's human too and she's still around! We're separated right now, but my little brother's with her! (He's Dark Matter, since you brought it up! Yeah, he's adopted, but he's my little brother and if anyone says anything mean about him, I'll ****** them!) They're surrounded by friends too, so I don't worry!"

"It was really hard to get off the planet last time I was there, and it was getting pre~tty cold and people who got left outside tended to disappear till next year when you could find them again thawing out on the road but it's hard to imagine we've just gone extinct! I mean, the people from the New World had to have gone somewhere!"

"Hmm? Z...e...?"

"...r...." "...o...!?"

"M-muh...M-Mas..." "...pl...ea... ey...e...c-can....t... "...bre...athe...."

-

Noir clutches his throat. The dark, burn-like cracks on his skin that had been easy to ignore till now seem to crawl up, to his chin and beyond. A thick metal collar around his neck, barely visible between his gloved hands, hums with a dark violet glow before he passes out.

Elsewhere, an otherwise unremarkable looking sword in the stolen stash of a small Dark Matter begins to vibrate, seeking its host.

@kirbyoctournament

PS: Wisp belongs to @moonsharkss and while he's still in the lead this round, it's close, so if you want to give him a vote...!

(Help I forgot his hands!)

-

Noir's Field Trip Masterpost

-

AN: Welp, add another one to Sir Uther's body count/list of crimes...

So, I still have some "Cheerful" (...although more like his brains have been scrambled) Noir asks to answer/send out that I'll get to when I have time (writing him is a bit exhausting tbh... ) but I have gone ahead and drawn this to "progress" back to the main tourney story! (You didn't think he could stay this way forever, did you?)

TLDR, We're back to regular Noir (...or whatever other AU hijinks happen to come his way that affect him in some manner?! Magic anons...???) but if you wished to interact with or send another question to Noir explicitly during his short lived cheerful phase, lemme know! Though whether I get to it will depend on how I'm feeling ^^

-

(...Fwiw, I'm pretty sure if he stayed this way for too long, the emotional cascade would eventually give him a full on mental breakdown as his refreshed, innocent psyche finally catches up with processing all the traumas that made up his life.)

[unnoticedunawarestillhere]

DEAD AND BURIED AU CAST

I highly encourage you to read this or at least try and find your favourite character in this! (I spent four weeks writing all this.) I'm aware I didn't put all BATIM characters in there and if there were certain characters you wanted to see, let me know. A lot of the facts I put in for characters are either funny or tragic. I will now be taking drawing requests and asks for my cast! (Ps: there's a reason why I put random CAPS)

Joey Drew:

Age: 40 

Height: 5'8 1/2

Gender: Male (He/him)

Sexuality: Undecided.

Nationality: American. Was born and raised in New York.

Condition: signs of depression. Tends to zone out and talk to himself (Not really a condition as far as I know, but seems important to just write. About it not being a condition, please correct me if I'm wrong.)

Phobias: Agoraphobia, Athazagoraphobia

Most important relationships to remember:

Henry Stein: very close friend and business partner. (After Henry leaves: TRAITOR D:<)

Sammy Lawrence: "friend" (Joey pretty much just uses Him.) and also accomplicE later on.

Thomas Conner & Nathan Arch: To Joey, both are annoying, but sees that the two have important value. Tolerate them. (Though tbh: Nathan was once considered a close friend as well.)

Bertrum Piedmont: A Work buddy who can actually drEam! Knew Bertrum through NathaN. Can put up a fair argument with Joey. 

Susie Campbell: Does acTually like Susie (not roMantically), but in reality is the worst friend ever to her. He did feel a tad bit guilty when he replaced her with Allison, but oh well! The show must go on!

Grant Cohen: SO VERY ANNOYING (to Joey). "All he thinks about is the numbers! No dreaming whatsoever. "-Joey (Though like Tom and NAthan, Joey tolerates him Due to him being pretty darn important.)

Others: Mostly just see the other workers as puppets with talent. Does have respect for certain people, but not worth mentioning who right now (maybe I'll write about that later, who knows.) Can also be seen making conversation with Norman, Jack and Wally.)

Notes or facts about him:

Joey has actually been in a fist fight with Nathan Arch and lost. Hates when someone brings it up.

Joey has been banned from the bar across the street due to uh..the fight with Nathan.

Loves to scare Wally with a Bendy cardboard cutout. When asked why he does this, he replies, "Oh just for funnies. "

Only has a little bit of guilt for murdering everyone. Also can be very arrogant and selfish at times.

Develops a limp later on when, in an act of self defence, Tom shoots Joey's leg with a pistol. (Will explain the details soon, probably.)

Henry Stein:

Age: 39 

Height: Due to having a slight hunchback, 5'6 ish

Gender: Male (He/him, but wouldn't care if called a they)

Sexuality: Bisexual (And proud of it!)

Nationality: American/ French (Can actually speak a few words!)

Condition: signs of anxiety, and depression. Insomnia as well.

Phobias: basophobia (Which I find ironic), acrophobia and claustrophobia (Strangely, only with elevators)

Important relationships:

Joey Drew: business partner, close friend. (After he leaves: he considers Joey as just a guy he worked with. Their friendship was lost after he left. When Henry comes back and sees the aftermath, he considers Joey as an enemy.)

Sammy Lawrence: close friend and maybe even love interest? Henry developed mild feelings for Sammy, but didn't act on them before he left the studio. Also didn't say a proper goodbye. (Whoops.)

Norman Polk: a good friend to talk to dUring break! (If Henry can find him.) Norman had been in the first war just like Henry and can relate to his Struggles with coping and healing. Also can count on Norman To save him a cup of coffee.

Wally Franks: ..this guy..is so FREAKING funny! Henry enjoys excHanging jokes with the janitor and can have the most randOm conversations. (Example: "If you could tame a wild wolf to go get your groceries, would you?")

Linda: Ex-wife, but stilL good friends with her. Things weren't working out and in the end both Decided to get a divorce. (DivOrce came just a few moNths after the studio was established.)

Jack Fain: Enjoys his tunes! Henry truly respects Jack's work and is full of pity for him when he finds out he was moved to work in the sewers. A friend!

Grant Cohen: if Henry ever needed to discuss politics and stuff, he looked for Grant. More like colleagues than friends. Also, they both know how difficult Joey can be.

Thomas Conner and Allison Pendle: Isn't too fond of Tom, but does respect him. He meets Tom kind of briefly before he leaves. Meets Allison after he leaves the studio. (A supermarket. The two met at the fucking supermarket.) He does also respect Allison, but hasn't really had the time to really get to know her due to Tom being protective.

Others: When meeting people, Henry is quite polite and friendly; this gains him a good reputation. He didn’t really meet Susie (Since he left), but later on when he comes back, he has a lot of confusion about her. The same goes for Bertrum, Lacie and a few other people. 

Notes or fun facts about him:

Henry was the first one to test out the new elevator in the studio. During testing, the elevator kind of just randomly stopped working  and Henry couldn’t get out for, like, two hours. During those two hours he was worried the elevator would drop. It didn’t, but you never know. 

For the first Valentine's Day, Henry bought Sammy a store bought card (C’mon Henry, really?) Later in the day, he actually wrote a lovish letter to him. Mostly because Jack was giving him a dirty look when he found out. “Really, man? A store bought card? The fuck is wrong with you.”-Jack

Threw Norman a surprise Birthday Party, which scared the shit out of Norman and made Norman point a pocket knife at him (Norman thought he was some sort of mugger) Later that day, Henry was trying to get the cake ready by lighting the candles and uh..almost caused a fire in the kitchen.  Wally was devastated at the loss of a beautiful chocolate cake. 

Henry was an American  soldier  in WW1.  

During the war, Henry had two pet dogs named Axel and Roger! One was a German Shepard while the other was a golden retriever. Unfortunately, Roger was killed in action and Axel died due to old age. 

-Also during the war, Henry loved making little comic strips for his comrades to read! One day, one of his comic strips blew away in the wind and landed in the enemy's trench. Henry was annoyed at this, but didn’t think much until a paper aeroplane hit one of his comrades, Richard, in the head. Richard handed him the paper and it turned out to be a paper full of cartoonish doodles! The paper had a few words in German and with the help of another comrade, it roughly translated to, “I like comics too.”  Henry still has that paper! 

Sammy Lawrence:

 Age: 34 ½  

Height: 5’6 ½ 

Gender: Male (might make him transgender?) (He/them)

Sexuality: Homosexual 

Nationality: American/German 

Conditions:  anger issues, anxiety disorder and signs of depression

Phobias:  Stygiophobia, Athazagoraphobia

Important Relationships:

Joey Drew: boss and considers him as a friend. Later on before he dies, Sammy thinks of himself as Joey's right hand man. 

Henry Stein: Madly in love, but is very hesitant about showing his feelings. Was  very hurt When Henry left. Still is kind of in love when Henry comes back. Their relationship is pretty complicated. 

Susie Campbell: best friends witH Susie! The two have a lot of laughs together and both like teasing each other about their crushes. Susie is always willing to hear SammY's new tune and Sammy is always happy to hear/ give feedback to Susie singing. Sammy was Destroyed when Susie dIed. (Got very angry at Joey..which kind of leD to Sammys demise.) 

Norman Polk: Ah projector head. The two are frenemies. Both will argue, trick and annoY each Other. However, at work, the two make a really good team. Norman Usually arrives early for work while so does Sammy. In grateful silence, Sammy aLlows Norman to hElp him set up chAirs for the band and music stands! Both haVe a dark sensE of humour so..yeah. They’re also both friends with Jack.  

Jack Fain: a good friend! Has known Jack since high school (both were in band) and has deep respect for him. The two caN be seen bouncing ideas off each other for a new song! The twO will always be friends���right? 

Johnny Polk: Sammy deep down has respect for his young assistant (who happens to be Norman's younger brother). He enjoys teaching him how to play the banjo and piano. Even if he doesn't show it, he’s actually pretty impressed by Johnny's quick learning. Can get easily frustrated though if Johnny is doing a task incorrectly or is a bit slow/late. 

Wally Franks: A pain in the neck. Sammy doesn't hate Wally, but he isn’t really too fond of him. Finds him annoying and childish. Instead of making jokes, Sammy feels that he could be cleaning more. Also wasn’t pleased when Wally accidentally knocked down one music stand which caused the rest of them to topple (Twice. Wally has done this twice).

Notes or facts about him:

When Sammy was a young kid, he wanted to be the next beethoven. (His parents laughed at this in amusement.)

When in band at highschool, Sammy met Jack by accidentally whacking him with a trombone.  Had to take Jack to the school nurse (he gave him an actual concussion.) 

Has written love songs for Henry, but never once shared them. (when Henry left, he tore them all up.) 

-Can speak fluently in German 

-When he was 23, and it was the fourth of July, Sammy was in charge of working the fireworks for his family reunion. He set them off outside and one hit his Uncle’s car. His Uncle was more than angry. All his little cousins thought he was the coolest  though (now they just think he’s old).

-Sammy was very close to being sent to fight in the war. 

Sammy once lost his voice while composing the band and kind of just dealt with it. Silently.

Wally Franks: 

Age: 27 

Height: 5’5 

Gender: Male (he/him OR they/them)

Sexuality: pansexual

Nationality:American/Canadian (Cause why not?)

Conditions: Has very mild Autism, but healthy!

Phobias:  Anatidaephobia, thalassophobia,  arachnophobia, forosophobia, Nyctophobia 

Important relationships:

Joey Drew: sees him as a friend! (until the studio goes apeshit.) Despite Joey trying to make him have a heart attack at age 27, Wally respects Joey! Well..did.

Henry Stein: a great artist and work buddy! If Wally ever needed advice, he’d go to Henry! When Henry comes back, the two friendships are reunited! However, Wally wasn’t happy when Henry turned his back on the studio. Still kind of has a grudge because of that. 

Sammy Lawrence: ah yes, the grumpy composer! Wally tries his best to avoid Mister Lawrence, not wanting to cause trouble. Might also be a little bit..terrified of Mister Lawrence.

Johnny Polk: best buddies! Wally loves hanging out with Johnny and humours Johnny with his jokes! Johnny always offers support and comes running to Wally if he needs help cleaning a dark area (due to Wally's Nyctophobia (fear of the dark)). 

Norman Polk: Mister Polk is actually pretty nice! Since Wally hangs out with Johnny, he often sees Norman (due to him being very protective of Johnny). When Henry left, Wally surprisingly came to Norman for advice! The two are good friends. As long as Wally doesn't blabber him with jokes before he has his coffee. 

Shawn Flynn: great friends! Wally may have feelings for the Irish toymaker, but isn’t really quite sure what to do with them. He worries he might not feel the same way, but maybe with some encouragement and insurance, he’ll tell Shawn his true feelings? :) 

Susie Campbell: if Johnny is Wally's first best friend then Susie would be Wally's second. Susie was always kind to Wally..until…she died, BUT yeah! The two, after a dull day at work, would usually get a drink together at the local cafe! 

Thomas Conner:  ….he majorly dislikes this guy. That’s it. Can hardly tolerate his ass and almost always argues with him. 

Others: Wally can mostly tolerate anyone (beside Tom, Sammy and maybe the people who steal the studios supply of toilet paper. Like c’mon guys. Not cool.)Likes talking to Jack here and there.

Notes or facts about him:

-One time, he accidentally left a window open and a pigeon had managed to fly into the studio. It caused fucking mayhem in the Music department and all recordings had to be shut down (cause all you could hear was people yelling and screaming). With Norman's help, the two had to capture it in a cardboard box and rushed it outside before Sammy could have the chance to kill it. 

-While cleaning out the vents, Wally found a dead rat and literally begged Joey to hold a funeral for it. (Joey declined because..well you know.) Wally ended up wrapping it in a towel, putting it in a shoebox and burying it at the local park. The only people that showed up to the funeral was: Johnny (who cried), Norman (who thought it was ridiculous), Susie (who was pretending to grieve), Shawn (who actually sang a fucking song for it), and Wally's mother and his two younger sisters, Mel & Catherine. Also Buddy was there. Only because Norman offered him a ride home. Buddy was just confused the entire time. 

-Has had a history of having food poisoning (especially from eating raw cookie dough.)

-Accidentally caused a pipe to burst and it kind of messed up Jack's office. (Wally plans to never tell anyone (beside Johnny) that he was responsible for this.  It was..pretty bad.

-Once punched Tom in the stomach before getting his ass beaten by him. In Wally’s mind, It was still a victory for him.

Thomas Conner:

Age: 40 

Height: 5’9

Gender: Male (he/him)

Sexuality: heteromantic 

Nationality:American/Africain

Conditions: Mild ptsd, anger issues and signs of insomnia 

Phobias: thanatophobia, atychiphobia, hoplophobia, aquaphobia

Important relationships:

Joey Drew: a major pain in the ass. Even before the studio got into shit, Tom hardly ever liked Mister Drew. Though he did respect him, he didn’t actually trust him. When Joey took his invention and called it his, Tom went ballistic with anger and his respect for Joey went dry. Hates it when Joey calls him “Tommy”. 

Henry Stein: Only met him briefly. When Henry comes back though, Tom does secretly have respect for Henry. And thinks of him as maybe..a friend? He hasn’t made up his mind. Also thinks he’s an idiot for coming back though. 

Allison Pendle: would do anything for her! Tom loves Allison with all his heart even if he doesn't always show it.  Was working relentlessly because he wanted to save up for a wedding ring for Allison (just when he almost had enough money saved up, he and Allison got killed by fucking Dreamer Drew).

Sammy Lawrence: “Ah, the insane music composer, I hate him.” Tom majorly dislikes Sammy from the beginning to the end. When he caught Sammy sneaking around the Ink Machine it led to a major argument between them. He knows it's Sammy that’s been stealing ink, but with so many problems mangled in his mind, he doesn't actually stop him.  

Norman Polk and Johnny Polk:  actually considers Norman as his best friend! The two have the same sarcastic humour and share a lot in common. They also like teaching each other how to do and make things (Example: Norman teaches Tom manners and Tom teaches him how to fix the pipes).  Since Tom hangs out with Norman whenever he can, he also hangs out with Johnny. He and Johnny are friends, but they’ll only hang out if Norman is there.  When Tom comes back as a toon, he thought that Norman and Johnny had gotten out of the studio, but to his dismay, the two died. Was pretty devastated by this. 

Wally Franks: an annoying kid who keeps forgetting his keys. Tom doesn't actually hate Wally, but just can’t tolerate him and his childish antics. Also wasn’t thrilled when he was forced to mentor Wally, which was a nightmare. He didn’t think Wally deserved to die though. 

Susie Campbell: when Susie first got hired, Tom didn’t have a problem with her. She was nice, upbeat and knew how to make Sammy calm down. He also knew that Norman had a massive crush on her, so he would talk to her here and there (trying to make his buddy look good XD). After the studio went to shit and decay, Tom sees Susie as a threat to both him and Allison. He does not trust her at all, regardless of what Norman says. 

Shawn Flynn: doesn't actually mind the toymaker and can actually be seen sharing a drink with him. A work buddy. 

Others: who cares? Tom never really paid much attention to anybody (besides the people above and GENT employees).  As long as no one pissed him off, everyone else was just a part of the background. Though, it’s worth mentioning now that he did not get along with Bertrum. (He did, however, have respect for Lacie)

Facts and notes about him:

-Tom was a combat engineer in WW1 for the US army.  Absolutely hates barbed wire and wants nothing to do with it. 

-Was born in America, but at the age of 4, moved to Canada. 

-When Tom was 12 years old (still in Canada) and it was Christmas, he ventured outside his winter cottage to go check out the woods. His parents were nonchalant about him exploring and told him to be back before supper. Anyway, he found a lake that had frozen over and just started sliding on it. However, the ice beneath wasn’t entirely solid and Tom fell through, almost drowning. To this day, he hates frozen bodies of water and refuses to go skating. No matter how many times Allison begs him to. 

-Welded Allison a necklace, but was too embarrassed by it to show her. Eventually he’d forget all about it until Allison (this is after the studio goes to shit btw) finds it and keeps it. 

-He and Norman love going on hikes. On one hike they encountered a bear and that was the first time Norman saw Tom lose his shit. (Both booked it to Tom’s truck) Speaking of Tom’s truck, Tom once accidentally hit a deer and Norman insisted on dragging the deer’s corpse into the nearest ditch and giving it a proper burial. He also made Tom say a few words for its funeral.  (His words were: "You stained the front of my truck. >:("

Allison Pendle:

Age: 39  

Height: 5’7

Gender: Female (she/her)

Sexuality: Bisexual/Asexual 

Nationality:   American/Dutch

Conditions: insomnia 

Phobias: cleithrophobia, atychiphobia 

Important relationships:

Joey Drew: when first hired, Allison liked and respected Joey! She thought he was a silly dreamer with a good heart. That thought was a mistake. When she slowly noticed how his dreaming was beginning to harm employees, her respect for Joey dimmed. When she found out that Tom had died due to him, she was furious and threatened to do more than to just sue him. Because of this, Joey panicked and killed her.

Henry Stein: Allison didn’t meet Henry when she first got hired. She did meet him before he came back. She thinks he’s a nice man who just worries too much. When they met again, the two seemed relieved to see each other and enjoy each other's company.  Allison considers him an ally!

Thomas Conner: Allison loves Tom, even if he can be rude. Allison makes it her personal job to keep his attitude in check, though of course, it’s almost impossible. Allison met Tom through a friend at a dinner party that Joey threw. Before being hired, Allison worked for a theatre company run by Joey’s sister, Susan. 

Susie Campbell: met Susie at the lobby and had a friendly conversation with her! Allison didn’t bring up that she was hired to be the new voice actress for Alice and Susie didn’t ask. Allison was there when Sammy and Joey broke the news to Susie and Susie looked like she wanted to throw a table at her. 

Sammy Lawrence: has a fair amount of respect for Mister Lawrence, but due to what Tom says about him, Allison isn’t quite sure she likes him as a person. When coming back after death, Allison is definitely NOT a fan of him. At all. 

Norman Polk & Johnny Polk: tolerates Norman only because of Tom. Since Allison works in the Music department, she sees Johnny pretty often and thinks he’s a nice kid. 

Grant Cohen: Sees Grant here and there. It’s only when the studio goes to shit that Allison really gets to know Grant. She thinks he’s pretty weird…

Wally Franks:  a very nice young man who actually appreciates her cooking in the kitchen. Despite what Tom says about him, she doesn't mind Wally and always makes sure to greet him and thank him for his work. 

Others: Allison doesn't really pay attention to anyone, unless they make conversation with her or she’s being introduced. She’s (was) pretty polite and easy going so people don’t have a problem with her. 

Facts about her: 

-Once had a cooking competition with Norman and forced Tom and Johnny to be the judges. 

-  As a child, Allison was really into fashion and making dresses for her little dolls. This interest was sparked because of her Mother, who ran a clothing shop downtown. One day, Allison ran out of scrap fabric and went on a hunt through her house for more. She found an old dusty white dress in the attic and cut it up into pieces. Turns out it was her Mom’s  and her Grandmother’s wedding dress. Whoops.

Actually had a fiance before Tom. His name was William and unfortunately died when his car hit a patch of ice and swerved off the road. Allison is always worried about losing Tom. 

One day, Allison was talking to Johnny and really wanted to make him laugh, so she tried singing like a person at the opera, but kind of made a mockery out of it. She successfully made him laugh, but at the cost of the recording window…

Susie Campbell: 

Age: 35 

Height: 5’5

Gender: Female (she/her)

Sexuality: hetrosexual/demisexual 

Nationality:  Canadian (grew up in Ontario)  

Conditions: healthy until the studio goes to shit  

Phobias:  arachnophobia, agoraphobia, autophobia, harm OCD 

Important relationships: 

Joey Drew: (before) a respectable boss who is quite charming and funny! (After) a self absorbed dick who can drown himself.

Henry Stein: didn’t really meet Henry before, only after. Isn’t exactly sure how to feel about him since Norman paints him as a “good guy”, but is unconvinced. She sees Henry hanging out with Allison and Tom and shows distrust towards him. 

Allison Pendle: When first meeting Allison, Susie wasn’t aware that she was there to replace her, only thought she was just a new employee. Was friendly towards Allison..until Joey and Sammy explained that she was getting replaced. When Susie comes back after death, she shows intense hatred towards Allison and hasn’t forgiven her for stealing her role. 

Sammy Lawrence: best friends with the grumpy composer! Loves teasing him and getting him to laugh. The two mostly hung out when Susie was done recording. But, when Susie noticed how distant Sammy was acting and how he kept having meetings with Joey, she felt hurt, left out and confused. Then when Sammy and Joey announced that she was being replaced, Susie was furious, screaming at Sammy and Joey. Hasn’t forgiven Sammy for that and is majorly still angry at Joey (like everyone else).

Norman Polk: when first meeting him, Susie was a little bit intimidated by him. But when they started talking and getting to know each other, Susie fell hard for Norman. She really wished that he would open up more to people so that they could see how nice he actually is.  When she was replaced, Norman was there to help. Even when she dies and turns into twisted Alice, she’s still very much in love with Norman! 

Johnny Polk: a friend! Loves teaching how to sing and always tries to cheer or encourage Johnny when he’s having a bad day because of Sammy.  If Johnny needs tips or advice for practising an instrument, he comes to Susie.  (Johnny secretly wishes that Joey made Susie his mentor instead of Sammy.)

Wally Franks: a close and dear friend of Susies! Almost always remembers to say thank you to Wally when he cleans up the music department. One time, she saw Wally and randomly asked him if he knew how to dance. He shrugged, then began to freaking dance with his broom, making Susie laugh. When Susie turns into Twisted Alice, she doesn't recognize Wally when he’s a toon and tries to kill him..  

Others: before she was replaced, Susie had no problem with any of her fellow co-workers. She got along fairly well with everybody.  Afterwards, everybody could go apeshit for all she cared. 

Facts about her:

Her father was a taxidermist and liked showing Susie and her siblings the latest animal he’s stuffed.  Susie was horrified by this. 

Loves celebrating Canada Day even if she’s stuck in New York…

Once drank entire bottle of maple syrup because of a dare…then threw up an entire bottle of maple syrup..it was not pretty.. (Fun fact: I’ve done this before as well. Do not do this.)

When Susie was about 10, she loved playing dress up in her Grandma’s old clothes and would speak “grownup” to the adults in the room. One night, she tripped on her long gown and fell down the stairs, breaking her arm. When her arm healed, it was bent the other way and the doctors needed to rebreak it and reposition it. After that, Susie got interested in anatomy.

When she was 6, she loved answering the family phone and would always have a long conversation with the person on the other line. Examples of what she would say: “Do you have a dog? I have a dog. She’s named Macie and she’s really fluffy and really big and-” (etc) Also her Dad would get so confused why no one called him back. 

Norman Polk: 

Age: 37 

Height: 6’1

Gender:  male (he/him)

Sexuality: heterosexual 

Nationality: British/French (yes, I’m aware he’s cannonly South Americain. Look at facts and I’ll explain) 

Conditions:  mild PTSD, social anxiety, signs of depression and insomnia (he’s not okay 🙂) 

Phobias:  pyrophobia, social phobia,  cleithrophobia

Important relationships:  

Joey Drew:  “Who the hell put this guy in charge?” Norman did respect Joey, but when he slowly finds out what Joey has been doing, he fully hates him. He still has a grudge on him in the afterlife. 

Henry Stein:  A good friend and man in general. Norman respects Henry, even when the studio goes to shit. Was disappointed and a hint hurt when Henry quit. When Henry comes back to the studio, Norman holds a bit of a grudge against him. 

“Johnny” Jonathan Polk: will protect him till the end. Norman absolutely loves his younger brother and would do alot for him. Norman and Johnny's mother died shortly after she gave birth to Johnny, but before she died, Norman vowed to take care of him. 

“Harriett” Polk: Norman loves his older sister, but gets into many arguments with her. Hates that he will always be “the child” in her eyes. She has had the habit of not always being there when things got tough, which frustrates Norman. She was the one to report his and Johnny’s disappearance.  She is the mother of Norman’s (and Johnny’s) only niece. (Might actually explain the niece part later on.)

Susie Campbell: if Norman could write a list of what he likes about Susie, that list would turn into a book.  When meeting Susie, Norman fell head over heels for her and when he began getting to really know her, he fell even harder.  Was absolutely destroyed when she died and massively wanted to get revenge.  When he came back as the projectornist, he still loved Susie and would always try to defend her. (even though she’s a hint crazy. Just a hint, guys.) 

Thomas Conner:  Norman considers him as his best friend! The two are pretty close pals! Both can relate to the horrors of the first war while also relating to Joey’s bullshit. When Tom went “missing”, Norman helped Allison plaster a bunch of missing posters and ask people if they knew his whereabouts (which is no easy task for someone who has social anxiety).  When Allison disappeared, rumours began to fly and Norman discovered the horrible truth that Tom had died. When he comes back as an ink creature, his and Tom's friendship resumes. 

Allison Pendle:  Norman and Allison have had their disagreements, but both care for Tom and will only team up if they need to save his ass. Norman wasn’t fond of Allison stealing Susie’s role and actually got in a fight with her because of it.  Norman, deep down, has a tad bit of respect for her. Tolerates her because she brings Tom happiness. 

Sammy Lawrence: Norman respects Sammy, but can get in an argument with the composer very easily. Despite this, Norman is aware that the two actually make a decent team and keeps that in the back of his mind. When Norman found out what Sammy and Joey were doing, he was absolutely pissed.  

Jack Fain: Finally, someone who still has their common sense! The two are friends and when Norman is sneaking around near Jack's office, he pays him a visit. 

Wally Franks: Norman doesn't mind Wally and is happy that Johnny has such a chipper friend. Norman can see why Tom can be frustrated with the young janitor as it’s clear (atleast, to Norman) that Wally isn’t the exactly brightest. Though Norman would agree, he certainly has a good spirit!  

Lacie Benton: Gets to know Lacie better when the studio is beginning to go into financial troubles. Has a lot of respect for Lacie and admires her skills. In truth, Lacie reminds him of his dear dead mother.  A good bond the two share!

Grant Cohen:  this friendship was surprising, but Grant and Norman are actually friends. The two can rant to each other about how fucked up the studio is and then laugh about it. 

Buddy Lewek: Norman has nothing against Buddy, especially since Johnny really likes him. Though, because Johnny really likes him, Norman is protective and makes sure Buddy gets the message NOT to hurt his brother..or else. 

Others: Norman doesn't actually have the best reputation around the studio as people are either a little bit intimidated by him or think he’s just weird.  Norman tries to socialise, but finds it difficult and overwhelming.  To his surprise, he does/did have a lot of friends. 

Facts about him:

-Norman and his siblings were born in Britain and grew up there. Norman was taught French by his mother as she wanted it to be his second language. After the first war ended, Norman and his siblings still lived in Britain, however, money was being put aside to move to America. After they (Norman & siblings) moved, Norman noticed that people would like to mock his accent, or would try to correct him. Tired of this, Norman just thought it would be better just to have an American accent. (He decided on Southern because of a certain movie he watched.) I know, he’s cannonly South Americain, but since this is an AU, I figured I should get creative! (Please don’t hate me for this)

-Norman actually had a twin sister named Abigail, but she tragically died at age 11.  

-Has had multiple injuries before and after the war. Examples: head injury, rabies, bullet wounds, etc) This guy has been through..a lot. 

-Norman was there at the Christmas truce (December 24, 1914). Johnny loves hearing about Norman's time at the Christmas truce. 

-Has been mugged before and now keeps a pocket knife at him at all times. 

Would always get so excited when he got mail during the war. Johnny’s little drawings and photos would keep him going through dark times.  

When the studio was going to shit, it was actually Norman who helped Lacie and Bertrum to start a rebellion against Joey and his followers. He recruited people and spreaded the word.

During the war and having a break, Norman and his friend Archie went to go rock climbing. Archie brought the equipment while Norman drove them to the place. While making their way up, something went wrong and ended up with Archie breaking his neck and dying. 

-Norman was once a boy scout and as a kid, he would always wear his uniform wherever he went.  (A lot of the kids at his school just assumed he didn’t have any other clothes to wear.)

“Johnny” Jonathan Polk

Age: 19 

Height: 5'8 

Gender: Male (He/him)

Sexuality: homosexual

Nationality: British/French

Condition:  war anxiety and signs of social anxiety  

Phobias: thanatophobia, basophobia (or basiphobia), trypanophobia 

Important relationships:

Joey Drew: Mister Drew is someone Johnny looked up to as he admired how calm and professional he always seemed to be. Johnny was also just grateful to have a job and because of that would try to defend Mister Drew if people (like Norman) were saying bad things about him. When Johnny was killed and came back, he was just destroyed at how naive he was.  

Henry Stein:  a good guy! Due to Norman respecting and befriending Henry, Johnny instantly befriends him as well! Johnny would sometimes even go to Henry for advice on drawing!

Norman Polk:  Johnny loves and looks up to Norman. The two can get into a few arguments here and there, but they usually don’t last too long. Johnny lives with Norman and the two split the bills and chores together.  Johnny usually doesn't mind Norman being protective, but can occasionally get tired of it. Always tries to talk Norman into asking out Susie.

Sammy Lawrence: Johnny doesn't hate Sammy, but he does fear him. Johnny tries his best to please his mentor, but sometimes can’t always fill his expectations.  When Johnny began to notice the little odd things that were going on in the music department, he didn’t actually tell anyone right away (which was probably a big fucking mistake)

Susie Campbell: absolutely adores Susie and wishes she were his mentor instead of Mister Lawrence. Likes helping her when she’s doing her recordings and always is always grateful for her advice and support. Johnny was also aware of Norman’s huge crush on Susie so yeah, he always tried to make him look good.  Was crushed when she got replaced. When he comes back, he isn’t quite sure how to feel about Susie now that she’s a twisted version herself.

Thomas Conner:  Johnny doesn't dislike Tom, in fact, Tom will sometimes even teach Johnny how to work with tools. Since Tom is Norman’s best friend, Johnny sees a lot of him and even shares a few inside jokes with him. Though, it’s worth mentioning that Johnny doesn't like when Tom is talking shit about Wally. 

Wally Franks: best buddies! Loves Wally’s jokes! (kind of already talked about this friendship so yeah..)

Shawn Flynn: a nice man who begs Johnny to teach him how to do a British accent. Really adores the toys that Shawn creates and has even begged Shawn to teach how to make a plush!

Buddy Lewek: close friends! Johnny also..sort of..has a crush on Buddy. Johnny always loves hanging out with Buddy and the two can talk about anything. Met Buddy when he was delivering something to Mister Lawrence and Johnny accidently whacked him with the door. 

Others: Johnny doesn't mind other people unless they are either mean to him or Norman. He gets along with a lot of people in the band and art department.  He can be shy at the start though. 

Facts about character:

-Johnny finally learned how to make a Boris plush! He gave it to Buddy as a gift <3 

-As a kid, Johnny would love trying to tackle his brother to the ground. One time, Norman saw Johnny charging at him and getting ready to tackle him again, so he took a step to the side and Johnny hit a wooden fence. (Johnny doesn't actually remember this and gets so confused when Norman still apologises to this day.) 

-Johnny is deadly scared of thunder to this day. He had an Uncle who got struck by lightning and died, so yeah, Johnny will bravely..crawl under his bed and pray for it to be over.

- Johnny never met Abigail, but as a young child, he did have this imaginary friend that looked eerily similar to her. She would always reassure Johnny that Norman was fine in the trenches and would survive. Turns out she was indeed right! 

-After finally getting his drivers licence, Johnny borrowed Norman's car for an errand and accidentally hit a brick wall with it. He was fine, only having a few bruises. Norman was absolutely relieved and pissed.

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt: "Do we have to get out of bed?"

Pairing: Rook hunt x GN!Reader/Prefect/Yuu

Genre: Fluff

TW: The characters are aged up, use of "mama" as a gender neutral term for a parent.

AN: It's time for the man, the myth, the legend himself: Rook! Ngl, this hunter gave me a ton of trouble with the fic. I'm still a bit unhappy with this, since I know it isn't one of my best works, but it is something. Happy birthday to everyone's favorite hunter <3 I hope you enjoy ^^ (PS: at one point, the reader is referred to as "mama". It is supposed to be read as a gender neutral term for a parent. If anyone who's fluent in French knows an actual gender neutral term for parent, please let me know ^^)

You opened your eyes to the chirping of birds outside your room, and the feeling of strong, warm arms around your middle. The warmth behind your body shifted slightly, pulling you closer and making you smile.

"Rook."

The blonde haired man hummed, letting you know that he was awake. Soft lips graced your neck with careful and slow kisses, a routine he performed daily as a sign of his love.

You turned in his hold, eyes softening as they met those of your husband. Rook smiled at you.

"Bonjour, mon amour," he hummed, leaning slightly to place yet another kiss, this time at your lips. Pulling away, he continued speaking in that slightly raspy tone that he always got in the morning, "Did you sleep well?"

You nodded, absentmindedly running your fingers over the slight stubble on his face. Rook let you do as you pleased, his eyes not straying a moment away from yours.

The sliver of sunlight coming in through the gap between the curtains framed the soft domestic scene that was your reality. You knew there were things to do, responsibilities of real life that would have you be separated from the arms of your beloved husband soon enough (a crime, truly). But these precious few moments, ones Rook insisted on experiencing every morning, gave you all the energy you would need to complete your daily tasks and come back to your husband's loving embrace each night.

After a few minutes of just staring at each other in content silence, you asked, "What are your plans for today?" Rook sighed, closing his eyes and burrowing in your hair. "I'm taking the twins to visit maman et papa. They've been asking to see them lately."

"Have you told them that they will be here for Christmas?"

"I did, but they were insistent," Rook hummed, fingers making lazy circles on your hip. "Will you be joining us, my dear?"

"I would love to, but there's some things I must get done today. And if you're taking the kids out of the house then I can buy their gifts and hide them."

"Ah."

"Give my regards to mom and dad, hm?"

"Of course mon amour."

You smiled, then made a move to get up.

Rook's hold on you tightened, and he pulled you right back where you started, body flush against him. Laughter left you shaking in his arms slightly. "Rook, we need to get up."

"Must we? Surely a few more minutes with me would not hurt~"

Before you could reply that yes, you two did need to leave the bed, a knock sounded on the door before it was opened, and in ran your two children, the apples of your eyes.

The boy immediately jumped onto your bed, shaking an amused Rook, "Papa! Papa wake up! We gotta go!" The blonde man let out a chuckle, letting go of you to take your son in his arms and tickle him. Peals of laughter left both son and father as they engaged in some play-fighting, Rook making sure not to be too rough with his child.

Your daughter, on the other hand, calmly stood near your side of the bed, looking at you with a sleepy smile. The calmer counterpart to her excitable brother, she gently tapped your arm with her palm. "Morning mama."

You scooped her up in your arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead as you sat her on your lap. "Morning sweetie."

Both of you watched the boys as they played around, messing up the bedsheets in their fun. Your daughter cheered her father on, and the betrayed look your son sent to his twin had you laughing.

What a perfect start to a perfect day, for the perfect family you had made with the love of your life.

Back to Masterlist...

[raiiinbowsquid]

✦ somewhere in the Doodlesphere...

art by @/dreagine !

[🖌💫] - HI! I'm Ink!! Guardian of The Multiverse! Welcome to my very own blog!! Now! You may be wondering: "Ink!!! Why do you have your own blog? Aren't you suppose to be protecting the multiverse?" Well to that I answer with...because I want to interact with creators and encourage them to continue making art and aus!! And to also ramble about every little thought in my head! NOW! I think it's best if I put out some important info before continuing with my rambles so,,,let's do it!!

[🖌💫] - There's one thing I wanna get out of the way and I will say it now! I am not an Ink irl! I am apart of a system! I am not entirely sure if those are the same or different but it feels important to clarify! I am apart of a traumagenic(?) system called The Color Palette System, BUT DESPITE THAT! Please treat me like a normal person and like I'm Ink. (if that makes any sense...) OKAY! Now onto actual info! Going to basic info first!

✦ now ofc you know my name! I'm Ink, silly! But I would also like to be called Doodle and Star, or Doodlestar! Just on occasion!! ^^

✦ I use They/Them pronouns, as I am Nonbinary! But I still don't mind He/Him! I also go by neos such as Star/Doodle/Ink/Paint/Squid! Those are optional!

✦ Unlike my canon, I am Pansexual and Poly! And I am taken by a handsome glitch and a devilish octopus! Please respect that! <3

✦ I am french but also part japanese as well!

✦ And last but not the least, my age! I am technically 25 in headspace! ^^

[🖌💫] - I think that's all for basic info!!! Now it's time for interests and comforts!

interests!

✦ I am, ofc, very interested and hyperfixed on art! digital, traditional, painting, ancient, everything!

✦ I also take a heavy interest in japanese culture! Especially their cooking!

✦ speaking of! I like to cook every now and then! Everyone says I am great at cooking! But not baking, can't seem to wrap my head around it

✦ but most of all, I'm interested in talking to my friends and you guys!!

comforts!

✦ I find comfort in seeing art of myself! Not so much as a narcissistic thing, but because I love seeing drawings of it because it reminds me how much I mean to people!

✦ I also really like colorful aesthetics, especially if it involves some kind of tool used in art! Like paint or crayons!

✦ yknow it was coming, Broomie is a comfort object of mine!! So hugging him always makes me feel better!

✦ seeing images of Error and Nightmare help too! They're so pretty...<3 (but any sans can help!)

✦ and lastly! Plushies always help! Mainly Pokemon or Sonic ones! ^^

[🖌💫] - We're almost done!!! Now it's time for discomforts and my dni list!!

discomforts!

✦ I'm not comfortable with being compared to my Underverse self or hated because of my Underverse self. I know I'm not a Bad Guy entirely there but most people seem to think that and think of me as a bad guy in general, so I would appreciate it if you guys didn't compare Underverse Me to Me :(( (you CAN talk about it! Just don't compare.)

✦ Speaking of Underverse! I am not entirely okay with XGaster. I know people ship me with him and you can do that! And talk about it too me! Just know that I will be tilting my head like a dog in confusion! ^^;

✦ I'm not okay with people turning ships like Errorink or Inkmare, or any ship into something that's toxic, like "toxic errorink", it just makes me so uncomfortable.

dni list!

✦ proshippers/comshippers

✦ pro-endo/endo supporters/endo-systems

✦ dreammare, swadmare, marenight, nightdream shippers

✦ frans, papyrus x chara shippers

✦ paperfresh, shipkid x parent/sibling shippers

✦ error x blueberror shippers

✦ m@ps, m@p supporters, m@p defenders/apologists

✦ p@raphiles, p@raphile supporters, p@raphile defenders/apologists

✦ z0ophiles, z0ophile supporters, z0ophile defenders/apologists

✦ homophobes/anti-lgbtqa+

✦ ut au/utmv haters

✦ rouge supporters, rouge defenders/apologists

✦ anti agere

✦ anti petre

[🖌💫] - Annnnd that's about it!! But before I leave, here are some extra bits of info I couldn't fit in here!!

My birthday is April 15 (world national art day!), I am an Aries, I like playing the flute, I agere and petre sometimes (to 3-8 for agere and mostly to a cat for petre), I am 100% okay and supportive of self-shippers, I'm very sensitive, I need tonetags, I forget a lot (duh-), I tend to ramble for too long, I'm hypers3xual (please respect that), I often uses caps, I purr even when Out of petre and lastly I am okay with nsfw of me! As long as it isn't...too much, if you catch my drift! ^^

[🖌💫] - Welp! That's everything! May add more if I forgot anything but who knows! I hope you learned a lot from this and I can't wait to talk to you all soon!! See ya, pal!!! ^^

✦ <~ click here for your reward!! (safe!/srs)

(don't ask, I thought it looked neat!!!)

[blitheringmcgonagall]

P.S. I Still Wait for You

Every time I think of you I always catch my breath And I'm still standing here And you're miles away And I'm wondering why you left And there's a storm that's raging Through my frozen heart tonight I hear your name in certain circles And it always makes me smile

 I spend my time Thinking about you And it's almost driving me wild And that's my heart that's breaking Down this long distance line tonight

I ain't missing you at all Since you've been gone away I ain't missing you No matter What my friends say

Missing You by John Waite (1984)

 @jilychallenge @jilychallenge2023

@sosohh My partner in fic: just about made it in unfinished 🤣🤣

Prompt:

Words we should never have left unsaid and/or PS I still wait for you

  He still doesn’t know why she left. She never explained. Worse than that, she never said goodbye. He can’t even remember what she was wearing the last time he saw her. He hadn’t spoken to her for a few days, she had been busy with her new job, he’d been busy with his. They’d just won the war. A miracle. He was trying out for a place on the English Quidditch team, she had just been accepted onto the Healers Training Scheme in St Mungo’s. They had been together for two years, sharing a flat. He had never felt happier. Sirius had just done the preliminary exam for the School of Law – and been accepted, much to Walburga’s horror, if the Howler had been anything to go by. Remus had turned down his offer to finance him through an apprenticeship or to buy him a bookshop to manage, and instead had gotten himself a precarious job in a second-hand bookshop. Typical Moony. Peter had started a shit job in the Ministry of Magical Transport and promptly started looking for another one, rightly so.

It was a time of potential, excitement, euphoria. Voldemort was dead. And then she had disappeared.

She was fine. Marlene and Dorcas had been in touch with her. Relocated to Canada. Montreal. He didn’t even think she could speak French. He didn’t know what she was doing there. She had cut herself off from the wix world completely.

He isn’t missing her at all, since she’s been gone, it’s been nearly three years. He’s fine. He gets up every day, showers, apparates to Puddlemere United grounds in Dorset, and trains himself into the ground. Meets up with his mates regularly. Eyerolls at the obliviousness of two of them – dancing around each other, saying nothing. The evenings are the worst.

He spends too much time thinking about her. He needs to stop. She’s fine, he’s fine, they are all fine. He still has a tiny passport sized picture of them in his muggle wallet, taken at a funfair in a photo booth. He is grinning like an idiot, glasses askew. She has her head thrown back, mouth wide open, eyes shining. It’s in black and white and doesn’t move. He pretends he’s forgotten. But it’s still there, behind the pound notes he hardly ever uses. Like his heart. Still stuck in 1981.

He hears her name in certain circles – acquaintances from the class of ‘78. Despite everything, despite himself, hearing her name always makes him smile. He’s transported back to his school days. The incessant banter, the witty comebacks, the arguments over the tiniest things – excuses to talk to each other. Both smitten. Both madly in love. Or so he had thought. So had they all.

But they had been wrong.

“Lily Evans – do you hear much from her?”

“Do you guys keep in touch?”

“What’s she at these days?”

He pretends it doesn’t hurt, each time.

“We lost touch,” he says, making it sound so relaxed, so trivial, so grown up and disinterested.

He tried dating other people since she left. For two years. It wasn’t fair on them and it wasn’t fair on him. Now he doesn’t bother. He just needs to get his arse into gear and meet the right person. Or perhaps he still waits for her - an irrelevant, outdated postscript. He hasn’t tried contacting her. He isn’t a weirdo. He respects her decision. He just thinks if he knew what he did wrong it would somehow make it all more bearable.

 ***

 Remus and Sirius finally get together. He moved out, hoping that might move things along. He’s right. When it finally happens it’s domestic, uncomplicated. They talk late into the night one evening, over a bottle of red wine. Sirius has been hinting for years that he loves Remus, but the oblivious arse is too thick to notice it. And yet, he is the one to make the first move.

There’s no turning back. They get together in September – warm sunshine, hazy languid warmth hanging on to the glorious ebbing of summer. By October they are engaged. November and it’s done nothing but rain for weeks on end and they are planning a wedding. He and Peter are best men.

The date of the Wedding is December 21st, Winter Solstice. She had left on December 22nd, 1981. He isn’t missing her at all.

“She’s coming,” Sirius tells him, sticking his chin out, ready for a fight; but his eyes are guarded, like he’s concerned, protective.

“What?”

“We invited her.”

He knows who she is.

“Why?”

“Remus wanted her to be here. I wanted her to come. She was one of our best friends.”

He doesn’t answer, clenches his jaw and fidgets with the mug of tea in his hands. He can’t veto his best friends’ wedding guests. But he wants to. So badly. He clears his throat, stares at the grain of wood on the table, says nothing.

Sirius waits. He doesn’t feel anything. Except perhaps frozen.

“Alright,” he says eventually.

His voice sounds gravelly, scratchy, like someone else is talking. Sirius stands behind him, places a hand on his shoulder, squeezes it tight.

“Thank you,” he says.

Like he understands how big a thing this is.

He has four weeks to get used to it.

He doesn’t.