#raise of hands whos actually surprised that this is the finals

[screamingatanemptyroom]

“Happy Birthday, my dearest sister!”

Iris walked into her home, the rotting door’s hinges squealing in protest against the movement, only to be greeted by the sight of a brightly decorated room, with a prince holding a cake in the center of it.

Iris let out a quiet sigh, closing the door behind her. She set down her basket of unsold flowers and carefully removed her shoes, cleaning the muddy snow off of them before setting them down in their proper place. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she looked around again.  Her clean but rundown room was all but unrecognizable, with cheerful banners and streamers hung in every available space. The few magical lamps she kept and used sparingly due to the high cost of fuel, were all on at the highest setting, making her frown at the waste.

“…” Iris stared silently at the prince and his advisor behind him, who both stared equally silently back.

"Are you sure this is the one?" He broke first, whispering to the man on his right.

“We are sure, Your Highness. It has been triple confirmed by the court sorcerer. She also bears a star shaped birthmark below her right ear, which was noted at your sister’s birth. This is your long-lost sister, Theodora.” His advisor whispered back.

“…Then why doesn’t she seem excited to see me?”

“Perhaps she’s just overly surprised?”

Iris sighed again.

“Why don’t you have a seat, and we can talk about this over tea.” It had been a long cold day selling flowers on the street, her fingers and toes were numb. She was tired, cold and cranky. This may be a pivotal moment that would change the course of her entire life…

But that was not going to stop her from getting her tea.

The prince shook his head, seeming to break from his shock. “Ah, yes… tea… Gareld…can you…”

“I’ll do it.” Iris interrupted. “He doesn’t know where anything is.” And she didn’t want him snooping around her home, either.

“I can help…” Gareld stepped closer, an uncertain look on his face.

“Both of you. Sit.” Her tone did not allow for argument, and both men sat down, staring silently as she moved around making tea. Iris checked her stock. She still had some dried fairy flowers, which made for a cool refreshing tea when brewed correctly. She hesitated briefly, not really wanting to waste her best tea on these visitors.

I guess Royalty should get your best tea. She tried not to sigh again and failed.

The tea was made quickly. The prince watched appreciatively at her calm, practiced movements, her neatly tied red curls swaying behind her.

“You look just like our mother did, you know.” His voice was wistful, remembering.

“I wouldn’t know.” Her voice was cold.

“…I suppose that is true.” The Prince took the tea she handed him, taking a sip to cover up his embarrassment. He was clearly not expecting much, given their surroundings, but his eyes widened in shock and appreciation. “This is good tea!”

“Thank you.” Iris accepted the complement calmly, drinking from her own cup. “Now can you please explain your purpose here today?”

“Yes. Well.” He was clearly thrown by her calm demeanor but seemed to collect himself. “I am Prince Anthony, the second born prince of the Royal family. I am here because you… you are actually my sister Theodora. You are a princess.”

“…” A silence fell over the table. After drinking more tea and warming herself up, Iris finally picked up the conversation once more.

“I see.”

She stirred her tea, staring down at the dried petals floating on the surface. “If I am your sister, why has that only been discovered now? I have grown up on the streets for as long as I can remember. I have been making a living selling flowers, since the old woman who looked after me died several years ago.”

“…” Anthony seemed embarrassed. “You were switched at birth.”

“By who? And with who?”

He didn’t seem to want to meet her eyes in the face of her calm questions. “I don’t know who switched you two… but you were switched with another girl, who we raised believing to be you. I only know her as Theodora. I don’t know what her name was before the switch she was a newborn, like you.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” He still wasn’t meeting her gaze. Guilty conscience? She wondered.

He seemed to read something in her tone, getting slightly worked up. “Theodora is innocent in this! She was horrified to find out that she wasn’t who she said she was! She cried for days, wishing she could trade places with you, return everything she had taken from you!” He shook his head. “Silly girl, she blames herself for the sins of others. Of course you wouldn’t blame her!”

Iris raised an eyebrow at his confident tone. “Of course.” She smiled, the expression polite but cold. “So, are you here to bring me back to the palace?”

“Yes! When the court mages finally located you, the whole family was anxious to bring you back!” He pointed to the decorations and cake he had brought. “It’s actually your eighteenth birthday! You probably didn’t know.”

“…” Iris studied the cake and decorations. “So why just you?”

“What?” Anthony’s smile faded slowly.

“If the whole family is anxious to get me back, why only send you?” She thought it over. “The Queen died giving birth, but I have another brother besides you, correct? The crown prince, Dominic? And my father is still alive and well?”

There was a long pause, as if he hadn’t expected her to ask that.

“…They are at your sister’s party.” He finally answered.

Iris chuckled. “I have a sister? I was not aware of another princess in the family.”

“It’s Theodora.” He shook his head. “The OTHER Theodora, I mean. We had been planning this celebration for months. We couldn’t move it. In fact, we should probably be leaving soon, or we’ll be late for the party.”

Iris rubbed her forehead tiredly. “Are you planning to bring me to this party?”

“Of course!” Anthony seemed shocked she would even ask. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my sister!”

“And how are you planning on explaining my identity… and more importantly HER identity, when I show up? Are you making the announcement that she’s a fake princess at her birthday party?” She leaned back, taking another sip of her tea. “That seems unkind.”

“WHAT?” His hand slapped down on the table, rattling the cups and teapot sitting on top. “Theodora is not a fake! She…” Anthony hesitated. “She’s just… a victim, like you.”

“I see.” Iris sat her cup down firmly and smiled again. “Then let’s plan for me to return to the palace tomorrow then. You can go enjoy the birthday party with Theodora, without my presence complicating public perception of her.”  She stood up, not subtly indicating to her guests that they were expected to leave.

Anthony’s expression was complicated. “But… I’m here to bring you back.” He stood up dazedly, his advisor standing up as well, having stayed thoughtfully silent the entire conversation. Iris became guiding them towards the door.

“I know, and thank you. I’ll take tonight to pack my things. Just send a carriage to pick me up in the morning.”

“But… Theodora…” He was obviously calling her, and Iris interrupted him, frowning.

“Just call me Iris. I grew up with the name, and it will be too confusing with two Theodoras running around the castle.”

Anthony grabbed her hand. “But it’s your name. Our mother gave it to you.”

“And someone stole it from me, gave it to someone else and dropped me in the slums to die.” Her tone was dry, but Anthony winced as if she had struck him, letting go of her. “Just call me Iris. It’s easier.”

“Okay… Iris.”

“Good, now goodbye for now. Enjoy the party.”

With that she pushed them out of the door, closing and locking it behind them. She put her back against the wooden panels, ignoring the rough grain digging into her skin, and froze for an unknown amount of time. Slowly, she made her way back to her table, turning down the magical lamps to save fuel, cleaning up the used cups and tea pot, before sitting down and putting her head in her hands.

She was a princess.

Perhaps if anyone else had heard the news, especially someone who had been living in the slums, they would be ecstatic. It was a path forward full of opportunities, a chance to completely change her difficult, cold and lonely life.

But Iris was not excited.

Not that she didn’t want change. She hated her current life, the dangers, the struggle to get by, the constant wariness to protect herself. She was not indifferent to finding her family, either. She had longed for family affection her entire life. The old woman who raised her did so mostly to have someone to run errands for her. There was very little affection between them. To have a father and brothers who would care about her… it was a dream come true…

And unfortunately for her, it was a dream come true.

Every year since she was ten years old, she had had recurring dreams. Odd strange, vibrant dreams. Visions that sometimes seemed more real than the world around her, vividly remembered when she woke up in the morning. At least once a month, sometimes with more frequency, but always in a similar theme.

In her dreams, she lived in another world. A different life, filled with technology and science rather than magic. Of elections and leaders rather than royalty. And in this world she was still called Iris, but was an actress. She participated in many television shows and movies, had a moderate amount of fame, and many fans to cheer her on. But the project she was embroiled in, was a complex plot about a magical realm. Her character was a young woman, a princess who had been separated from birth from her family. She grew up on the streets until her eighteenth birthday at which time she was found and returned home.

An interesting, dramatic story. There was just one problem:

Her character wasn’t the heroine.

She was the villain.

Or one of the villains. Not even the main threat to the hero and heroine. She returned to the palace, only to find a replacement her family loved dearly in her spot. Filled with jealousy and spite, she spent most of her time trying to set traps for the woman who took her place, only to have each and every plot go wrong. The woman she hated escaped time and time again, and slowly, her father the king and her brothers grew weary of her trouble, sending her overseas to be married to an old and perverted foreign king. They had thought she would be married to one of his sons, but didn’t spend enough time or effort to show her importance to the royal family. Coveting her beauty, the old king took her into his harem.

She jumped off the roof of the palace on the night of her wedding. None of her family knew of or mourned her loss.

The heroine, the girl who had grown up as the princess she was meant to be, thrived under the love and care of the king and princes. She ended up marrying a neighboring prince, the fiancé that had been promised since birth, a man who Iris’ character had also fallen in love with, but failed at all attempts to get close.

Most of her dreams centered around the filming of this project.

Iris had always been confused by these dreams, convinced it just a strange experience that meant nothing, until one year ago, when she heard a story teller in a tavern talking about the royal family:

The crown prince Dominic. The second born prince Anthony. The princess Theodora.

All names she knew very well.

The characters in the story her dream-self acted in.

And the more she pondered this, the clearer it became. Her age, her features, the distinctive birthmark… Iris remembered having the make up artist draw it on below her ear in her dream, but she didn’t need make up in the waking world. She had the birth mark, a clear small star, since she was a child. A mark that meant something horrible:

She was the lost princess.

She was the villainess, doomed to be hated, to be sent away and kill herself in despair.

Over the last year she paid close attention to her dreams, writing down what she remembered, trying to understand the story of her possible future. Even as she prepared, she hoped, deep in her heart, that her dreams were wrong. That they were a strange delusion, a mix of stories of the royal family and facts about herself, combined in her sleeping brain. Maybe it was just what she had thought it was before: a peculiar dream.

Until her eighteenth birthday arrived.

And Prince Anthony arrived with it, right on schedule.

She stared down at her clenched fists, as the multicolored streamers hung around her, a cake sitting coldly in front of her, the icing starting to melt, and sighed.

She was unsure why she had been given these dreams, this warning of her future.

But she did understand one thing:

She would not suffer the same fate as the character Iris had played in her dreams.

_____________________________________________

Prince Anthony sat in his carriage, traveling back to the palace. He leaned back against the cushions, his eyes closed, his brow furrowed. As they drew closer to home, he finally spoke up, breaking the tense silence.

“Gareld… did I do something wrong?”

“Your Highness?”

Anthony opened his eyes, a confused light in the dark pupils. “I thought she would be excited to learn she had family. All the information about her… her struggles to survive by selling flowers… with no one to help her… I thought she would leap at the chance to go home.”

“She didn’t seem UNHAPPY, sir.”

“But she wasn’t happy, either.” He sighed, twisting a ring on his right hand. “Should I not have brought up Theodora?”

Gareld shook his head. “It’s not like you could have avoided it. Better she know now then find out at the palace.”

“I know it’s not her fault… she’s a victim too. So, she shouldn’t blame Theodora, right? But why do I feel so guilty?”

“Princess Theodora and Princess Iris were both the subject of this malicious swap… but Princess Theodora grew up loved and cherished, a princess where she may not have enjoyed such luxury before, but Princess Iris… She has suffered more.” Gereld hesitated. “Besides, your father and Prince Dominic have not determined how to settle Princess Theodora’s identity. If they fully restore Princess Iris to her place, that will cause many issues for Theodora, not excluding her marriage arrangement to Prince Greyson. If you had brought Princess Iris to the party tonight… they may have made a rash decision to protect Princess Theodora, even at the cost of your new sister.”

“I almost caused her harm, didn’t I?”

“Not intentionally, Your Highness.”

“I just wanted to bring her home.” Anthony whispered, feeling pain in his heart and her bland, cold expression when facing him. “Why is it so complicated?”

“You father and brother will figure things out. I would just focus on making your sister feel welcome. It will be a difficult transition, no matter what.”

Anthony seemed to come to a determination, an excited light in his eye. “All right then! I’ll make sure she’s taken care of! Let’s go make sure Iris’s room and servants are arranged properly!”

Gareld looked confused. “What about Princess Theodora’s party?”

“I already gave her my gift, she’ll understand. There are hundreds of people there. But my sister… she doesn’t have anyone. I need to make sure she’s welcomed!”

_____________________________________________

Iris ate a piece of the cake her brother had left, enjoying the high-quality treat. It reminded her of the cakes in her dream. There had a been a special bakery she had gone to, usually on her birthday. She had to sneak there, her agent and personal trainer strictly forbid sweets. She had not had the chance to taste such delicious things in this world, though, her money was better spent on things for survival.

After she finished, she made her way to her room, opening a secret panel behind her bed. Her home was small, and even smaller after she built a secret compartment in the back. But it had been worth it, to keep her secrets safe. As she entered the room, she was surrounded by flowers. Hundreds of colorful bright flowers, each in the state of perfect bloom. On the wall, small pots of herbs grew heartily, their grassy scent combining with the sweet smell of the flowers.

Her first advantage was knowing her story, and with that came certain benefits.

Like knowing she had magical abilities solely available to royal blood. In the story, one of the reasons the king brought Iris back was that he needed to use her gifts, which included the ability to grow plants in any environment. She had agreed readily in the story, hoping to earn her father’s affection by aiding him. Unfortunately for her, her usefulness did not outweigh her shortcomings, as she targeted Theodora again and again. And the king chose to abandon her with little hesitation.

Iris frowned, feeling a stabbing pain in her heart. She thought she had come to peace with her knowledge of the future. However, at the thought of the father she had never met, a strong desire for family affection and love still rose within her. She firmly pushed it down, focusing on the room around her.

Once she suspected the reality of the dream, she had used the knowledge of the story to tap into her royal magic. There was still strict limits on her abilities, mostly by the seeds she had access too and the space she had to grow, but it allowed her to sell fresh, beautiful flowers, even in the midst of winter.  

The herbs had proved useful as well.

She carefully packed a few small choice plants and seeds, only carrying a tiny fraction of the room within. She wasn’t ready to reveal her knowledge of her abilities just yet. The more she knew, and the less they knew, the better.

Iris packed the remainder of her belongings, fitting everything into two small bags. She then laid down, and prepared to rest.

Tomorrow she would see her family, and the heroine of this story, Theodora.

She was ready.

_____________________________________________

As promised by Anthony, a royal carriage arrived in the morning to pick her up. She handed her bags to the footman and prepared to step in, only to pause at the sight of a hand reaching out to help her in to the carriage.

Surprised, she saw Anthony’s grinning face and took his hand, letting him help her to the seat across from him. “Why are you here?”

“I can’t let my little sister come home alone, can I?”

He spent the ride to the palace chattering in a cheerful tone about the arrangements he had done to set up her living space. Iris listened in somewhat of a daze, feeling unsure.

Iris had not been arranged living quarters in the story. In fact, that was the source of one of the early conflicts between the heroine and the villainess. Iris had been mentally preparing for that confrontation… only to find out the story had already changed.

Did delaying my arrival to the next morning already change things so much? It both relieved Iris to know she COULD change things, and terrified her about whether she SHOULD. Her advantage was based mainly in her knowledge of the story, but if that changed… she would be on her own.

“Are you okay?” Anthony noticed her distraction, pausing in his descriptions to check in with her.

Iris smiled at him, the first genuine smile she had given him since his arrival on her birthday. “I’ll be okay.” And I will. My goal is to get a different ending for myself. A better ending. And the only way to do that is to change things. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. This is a good start.

She looked out the window, unaware that her brother had frozen in shock at the sight of her bright smile. When she smiled like that, her eyes lit up, and she looked just liked their mother. He cheered himself on, glad he had chosen to spend time arranging for her arrival.

As the carriage came to a stop, Anthony helped her down from the carriage, leading her in excitedly towards the royal quarters. As he entered a central sitting room, he called out:

“Father! Dominic! I brought her!”

Two men in the room stood up at his words, turning to look at Iris.

And iris studied them as well.

Tall, handsome, with light hair and grey eyes, they looked very different from her, who resembled their mother with her red hair and more delicate features. Anthony pointed at them, and grinned to Iris.

“This is your father, and your oldest brother!”

The older of the two stepped forward, a solemn look on his lined face.

“Theodora, you’ve returned.”

At his words, a beautiful young woman who was sitting on a nearby couch stood up, her lightly curled blond locks swaying behind her. She reached forward, grabbing the King’s hand with a brave smile.

“Silly me, I almost thought you were talking to me, Father! But of course you are talking to your real daughter.” She turned to Iris with a tearful expression. “Sister, I must beg for your forgiveness! Even though I am a victim of this switch as well, and have lost my blood relatives, I have grown up with father and brothers, who have treated me well. You deserve to take everything, it should have been yours from the start!” She began to cry, while Iris watched on.

Good tears, nice volume, angles her face well to take advantage of the shape and appear more remorseful.  

As someone who had lived years inside her dreams as a professional actress, however, it was too fake.

Iris recognized this scene, although the setting was different. It was the meeting between Theodora the heroine and Iris the villainess.

_____________________________________________

“Scene 4, Take 2. ACTION!”

CLACK!

Theodora stepped closer, tears still running down her face. “Sister, I can never repay what you have lost, but first, I will give you back your name. I have held it for too long!” She sobbed prettily into her hands. “I don’t know what I’ll go by… but you can be Theodora… the real Theodora from now on!”

“Wait!” The King spoke up, patting Theodora gently on the head. “Let’s not be too hasty. We have been calling Theodora by this name for eighteen years. It would be silly to change things now.”

Theodora smiled at him, but then cast a worried glance at Iris, as if afraid of her anger. “But what should we call sister then?”

“My name is…”

“Let’s call her Dora.” Dominic spoke up, interrupting his sister’s words. “We shorten Theodora’s name to Theo sometimes, so Dora would be the most appropriate.”

She stared at her family with growing rage. “Theodora is MY name! Why can’t I be called by MY NAME? Why does this… this… FAKE… get to keep MY NAME!”

Theodora broke down. “I knew sister hates me! I should leave the palace! I’ll just make her sadder if I stay!”

Anthony stepped in. “Of course you’re not leaving! You’re our sister no matter what!” He turned to his sister. “Apologize to Theodora… Dora!”

“CUT!”

_____________________________________________

Iris looked up, just in time to see Theodora step closer, right on cue. “Sister, I can never repay what you have lost, but first, I will give you back your name…”

“No, that’s okay, you keep it. I’ll just go by Iris.” Iris interrupted her, bringing up a gentle, kind smile. Using her memories of acting, she looked at Theodora as if looking a loved family member. “I know you must be uncomfortable, with me showing up out of nowhere. You have been with my father and brothers all these years, taking care of them when I couldn’t. I must thank you, dear Theodora. I couldn’t possibly take your name!”

“…What?” Theodora forgot to keep pretending to cry, staring at Iris with consternation.

“It’s nice to see you are a sensible girl.” The King spoke up, smiling approvingly at them both. “We will refer to you as Iris. Welcome home!”

“We’ll need to settle their identities.” Dominic looked at Iris cautiously, his eyes calculating. “After all, Theodora has publicly been the princess for the last eighteen years.”

Iris smiled. “I will follow whatever you and father think is best.”

Before Dominic could speak again, Anthony jumped in. “Let’s discuss it later. Iris has to see her new rooms!” Ignoring any awkwardness, he grabbed Iris’ hand and pulled her further into the palace.

Iris turned and smiled at the three as she was led away. She especially enjoyed Theodora’s annoyed face, before she quickly gained control of her expression.

Alright, first confrontation is a point for me. Only a few hundred more to go. She turned back to her brother who led her away, feeling warm. I don’t know why he’s different… but I’m glad he is.

As she was about to speak up to thank him, however, Anthony came to a sudden halt, causing her to crash into his back.

“Ouch!” She grabbed her nose which had been the main point of impact, her eyes tearing from the blow, and looked past her brother at the point of obstruction.

“Mage Vicente! What brings you to the palace?” Anthony seemed confused, but not nervous.

The man who blocked them looked at them both with a calm smile. He was a young man, good looking enough to make even Iris who had memories of working with multiple top-level actors take notice. His hair was covered under a hood, a large cloak covering most of his tall form, but his eyes, a bright green color, were filled with a knowledge that made whoever looked in them nervous.

Iris stared at him, confused.

There was no mention of a Mage Vincente in the story in her dreams.

Who is this? A very minor character?  Iris felt she would have remembered him.

“I was just here to confirm something.” Vincente studied Iris carefully, then nodded. “Welcome back, Your Highness.”

Iris felt like his words had a deeper meaning, but was unsure of what it could be.

“It was Vincente whose magic confirmed that you were the true princess, Iris!” Anthony spoke up.

“I see.” Iris was more confused than ever, made worse by the fact that he seemed very familiar… but she couldn’t remember from where. “Thank you, sir.”

“My pleasure, Iris.” He bowed solemnly, but his eyes seemed… amused… more than anything. Without another word, he walked away, his robe swaying with his wide steps.

“Don’t mind him, Iris. All mages are a bit odd.”

“Odd…” Iris watched the man’s leaving back. “That seems to be the right word for it.”

They arrived at her rooms, which were carefully decorated and filled with beautiful furniture, jewelry, makeup and clothes. Anthony showed her around the room, pointing with glee at the different choices he had made.

“I don’t know if the gowns will fit, so I’ll have the dressmaker stop by later today to help fit you! Hopefully these will be a good start!” He grinned at her, and Iris smiled back.

“Thank you… Brother.” She stepped forward, giving him a cautious hug. Anthony hugged her tightly back, blinking back tears.

“Welcome home!” After a few more words he left, and Iris was alone.

She looked around the rooms, overwhelmed.

The story is already so different. My brother, these rooms, the meeting… the mage.”

She remembered vividly the scene of her character jumping to her death in a foreign land.

“Not different enough.” She muttered.

She would change the story completely.

This… was just the start.

You are a poor girl selling flowers. Today is your birthday but no one knows. When you return home you find the prince of the kingdom waiting for you with a birthday cake. "Are you sure this is the one?" He whispers to his advisor.

[crows-rook]

The students of theoretical metaphysics are thrilled to finally have their professor back from his year-long sabbatical. They’d heard some pretty interesting rumors about Proefssor Emmrick "by the book" Volkarin having left Nevarra to help save the world but there's no way that's true. The gossip mill is rife in the Necropolis but there is no way that a man as uptight as him fought blighted gods, venatori, darkspawn and antaam all over northern Thedas.

The first day of class is pretty boring, they go through the motions of talking about what will be taught this term, what texts are best to understand this year's material and extra credit options they can undertake for their end of year scores. At the end of the lesson, one of the students raises a hand and asks about the professor's so-called connection with the veilguard and with Rook.

Every person alive now knows the story of Rook, Slayer of Gods and Hero of the Veilguard. They chat and brag about what stories they'd heard about them or even boast if they'd gotten a rare look at them out and about with their companions. It's great hearing the rumor that the Hero of Thedas is a Mourn Watcher, but without knowing who they actually are, all the young students can do is guess. It's become a game at this point.

The professor is about to answer when the door bursts open and Manfred comes bustling in dragging Ingellvar with him. Now everyone knows about that watcher, kicked out of the Mourn Watch for their role in the War of the Banners, only to be allowed back nearly two years later. What surprises them is the fact that they are not alone. There are two others with them, Neve Gallus and a warden called Davrin, both members of the veilguard.

With Manfred running around the room hissing Rook's home, Rook's home, it quickly becomes pretty clear to the students of Professor Volkarin's Theoretical Metaphysics class that their stick-in-the-mud teacher did spend his sabbatical fighting ancient gods and darkspawn. But there's no way it means the rest of the rumors are true right?

Least not until they see Thedas's hottest new hero practically examines the man's tonsils with a kiss that is not appropriate for the classroom.

When they leave, the flustered man looks at the class and asks; "Are there any more questions, or do you mind if I go home to my spouse?"

[jirsungs]

NO IDEA | 14. meeting the ncu freaks?

word count: 1.3k words

You wish you had mentally prepared yourself for the chaos you were about to enter when Donghyuck jiggled his spare key into the keyhole of his shared apartment.

To surprise you both, the door immediately swung open with Jeno standing there. You're both caught in headlights at the taller male, and Donghyuck’s key is still snuggled into the keyhole.

His lips formed in a smirk, his eyebrow comedically raised, “Wow, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here.”

You laugh at the familiar face. “What's up, Lee?”

You glance at Donghyuck briefly, and when you do, he's rubbing his forehead in pure embarrassment. You found it… kind of endearing.

“Jeno, please.”

The said male drops the act at his friend's embarrassed remark and gestures to you both to come inside. Once you do, you're met with three other sets of eyes blinking at you.

Their physical appearances were familiar since they were recurring people seen in Donghyuck's social media posts. But seeing them in front of you felt different—in a good way, of course.

Speaking of Donghyuck, your awkward boyfriend stands beside you, his hands in his pockets as he discreetly rocks himself back and forth. “Guys, meet Y/N, my, uh—girlfriend.”

You wave politely at the three boys, fearing they've frozen before you.

“Um… Are they okay?” You whisper over to Donghyuck.

“Yeah, yeah.” Donghyuck glances at you quickly when you look over at him, but once you turn towards his friends, he shoots threatening daggers at the four guys, “They’re just in shock that you're actually here.”

Jeno luckily breaks the silence with a hit on Jisung's back; the ladder exaggerates his wince with a loud whine.

“Ow! What the fuck!”

Now that the silence has finally been broken, Jaemin takes the opportunity to get up from his place on the rug-covered floor and approach you. Your eyes follow him, and you're left in shock when he takes your hand and leaves a kiss on it.

“‘Ello, m'lady.”

Donghyuck quickly reacts, smacking his black-haired friend away from you. “Hands off my girlfriend, you fuckin’ weirdo.”

Jaemin pays no mind as he cackles. But you don’t spare Jaemin any attention for a split second because your brain mainly focuses on how easily the word girlfriend rolled off Donghyuck’s tongue like that. It sounded more confident than the first time he said it, and you couldn’t lie and say it didn’t spark something in your chest.

“So, are we playing this game or what?” Renjun blurts out, sadly breaking the moment.

It turns out that “The NCU Freaks” weren’t as bad as Yuqi suspected them to be because you were enjoying their presence and silly group antics by the end of the night. You could see Mark and Chenle becoming just as competitive as the guys were in their current third round of Halli Galli. This game was meant to end way quicker than they intended, but to the guys' dismay, Donghyuck was always competitive and did not back down until he was satisfied with the result.

A red flag of his, they call it.

You’re surprised you could remember what round they were in since you found yourself spacing out by the first one. All you remember is that they’re fighting over who has to clean up the ignored pizza boxes and scattered soda and beer cans left on the dining room table.

As Halli Galli grew more aggressive, the guys ended up forfeiting and choosing to end the endless discussion with rock-paper-scissors. You’re left confused about why they would use such a childlike game to settle their problem, but the sight of them shouting was too funny not to laugh at.

“Rock-paper-scissors shoot!” The five guys in front of you shout in unison.

By the third try, you began to zone out until—

“HAH! Jisung, you idiot! You lost!” The booming voice of your boyfriend shook you out of your trance.

The next thing you know, the younger male is found distraught as his older friends giggle and tease him about his loss.

And that's when you found yourself loving them more than you expected.

Maybe you could get used to this fake relationship after all.

Enjoying so much of their company, you found it hard ending the night as Donghyuck reminded his friends that he had to get you home soon. It tugged at your heart a bit seeing them be just as sad about it as you were.

“Y/N, what if you sleep here for the night? We could have a sleepover and everything—I mean, we've never actually had a girl over for that before, but it would still be cool.” Jaemin's ramble gets cut off when Donghyuck shoots Renjun a shut-him-up look, resulting in Renjun elbowing Jaemin.

It still flatters you and makes you giggle either way. “I would love that, but, uh,” you glance over to your anxious boyfriend beside you, “I think that'd be a little bit too fast. Me and Hyuck promised to take things slow.”

Hold on. Did he hear that right?

The four boys eye you two down, and having all the attention on you ironically makes you sweat. So, you turn to Donghyuck for help. “Right?”

He turns to you, his brain not forgetting that you just called him the nickname only his family and friends call him, but he puts on his game face anyway. “R-right. Yeah.”

Game face, my ass. He thinks.

“Well, goodnight, lovebirds! Get her home safe, man!”

Unfortunately, there's Jeno, who always knows when to make things so much more awkward as he rushes the two of you out the door.

“So… Hyuck, huh?”

Unfortunately for you again, your boyfriend's sudden switch in behavior once you're left alone catches you off guard, and God, was it attractive.

But of course, this was the first real show of your “relationship” and reminding yourself that this is all fake is more important than dwelling in feelings that 100% won't happen.

“Never speak of it.”

But once you saw the teasing glint in Donghyuck’s eyes, leading you to make a beeline to the elevator down the hall, you knew that this would be mentioned again and again. He's lucky you liked the taste of his nickname on your tongue.

It was nearing 10 pm when Donghyuck parked his car in front of your apartment complex, which led him to ask you the one-million-dollar question.

“Alright, lay it on me. Did we scare you? And trust me, you can be honest. I won't be offended. Or I'll try not to be, at least.”

“You want my honest opinion?”

His assured demeanor drops right in front of you by the look of his face, and you fight the urge to laugh.

“Oh my God, we did scare you, didn't we?! Fuck, I’m so sorry. Was it Jaemin? It’s always him, dude.”

“Donghyuck, no! It wasn't—”

“He gets nervous around girls, and he reads this dumbass book Jeno gave him ‘cause Jeno told him it works like a charm—”

“Donghyuck.”

“And apparently, it has a bunch of tips on how to make a girl feel comfortable, and I think that whole ‘kissing your hand' thing was because of the book, and I—”

“Hyuck!”

“And also, you with that goddamn nickname. Why did you pull that? We never agreed on that! Do you even realize what that does to a guy?”

He finally shuts up when he feels you shake his arm and hears your fit of giggles. “Calm down, you dummy. I was just messing with you.”

“Y/N. I crashed out in front of you, and you’re giggling.”

His reaction only makes you laugh even more. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You let yourself calm down before you continue, “I enjoyed tonight, really. I adore your friends. They made me feel welcomed, and if it makes you feel better, Jaemin pulling that stunt only made me laugh. I loved them, Hyuck. Thank you for introducing me.”

“You’re serious?”

“Very.”

“Like 100% positive?”

And with a nod, you say, “100% positive.”

If your words didn't assure him, your hand resting on his as an action of comfort definitely did.

Once Donghyuck escorted you to your door and you said goodnight, Seulgi and Yuqi bombarding you with questions wasn’t a surprise. The night ended with you telling them detail by detail, even acting it out at some parts, with their teasing reactions making everything seem more real.

You fell asleep with the biggest smile on your face. And little did you know, so did Donghyuck.

previous | masterlist | next

note: it's my birthday, guys!!!! i'm officially 18!!!!! as for my birthday gift to yall, i have finally locked in on this chapter and gave yall what you deserved :3 BIGGG apologies for keeping this beloved story in the dark for two months 💔 i missed this couple and i missed yall! 2025 IS THEIRRR YEAR GUYS, TRUST!

🖇 (open!): @skeetyeetyote @junviadinho @n0hyuck @yewshi @marvelahsobx @hqech @sunflowerhae @loveholicness @sfswithfs @222brainrot @dudekiss3r @aek1ra @nosungluv @miyawwn @haechology @chenlesfavorite @alethea-moon @polarisjisung @lionzyon @mystverse @insaneanddrained @starfilledgaze @onlyhyunjin @swee7dream @haechsworld @markspossibilities @schatjze @minniesbae @multifandomania @neozon3nha @zzurao @hoshipills @nessaassen02 @lavender-roses-06 @ohwowzersthatscool @sunghoonsgfreal @https-lvesick @taeeflwrr @do-you-remember-summer-127 @hyuck-me @injunnie-lemon @txthyuck @jeongintwt @starwonb1n @413ktz @haechansbbg @galacticnct @keeryverse @kosmicbomb @thegracerammy

[nomie-11]

Teen!Caitlyn Kiramman x Teen!Reader - Cupid's Arrow (or Bullet)

masterlist!

Bullseye, bullseye, bullseye. 

Caitlyn lowered her rifle with a glint in her eyes. 

“Yes!” She spun on her heel, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “30 points in three bullets! Beat that, Y/n.” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a small smile gracing your face as you grabbed your own rifle. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, and the purple petals of the grand tree behind the Kiramman’s shooting range was raining softly down onto the ground. With a huff, you brushed a petal off the scope on the rifle. 

“You know I can’t beat 30 in 3, Cait,” Your eyes roll back playfully, still smiling as you hopped into line beside her. “We can only tie.” 

“Oh, come on! Don’t be so negative—a tie only gives me half the bragging rights to our parents at dinner later.” 

You snorted, shaking your head as you lined up the first shot. Caitlyn crossed her arms and leaned slightly to the side, watching you with that perfectly smug glimmer in her sapphire eyes. The setting sun painted her silhouette in warm golds and soft purples, and for a moment, it was hard to focus on anything other than her. 

Shaking your head, you snapped into focus. Caitlyn’s perfect body and silky smooth hair wouldn’t deter you from victory even if your hormonal teenage body really wanted it to. 

The rifle felt steady and familiar in your hands, a testament to the hours the two of you would spend in the shooting range after you got out of manners school and Caitlyn finished with her tutors, and as you exhaled slowly, you squeezed the trigger. 

Bang. The first shot hit dead center. 

“Oh, not bad,” Caitlyn said, her voice teasing but impressed. 

You rolled your eyes and took aim again. Bang. Another bullseye. 

Caitlyn’s brows lifted, her confident grin flattering just a bit. 

This was your favorite part, the part where you inevitably tie her perfect score and fluster her just a tiny bit. She never expected it—and it gave you the perfect opportunity to put a cute little blush on her perfectly pale skin even for half a second. 

“Careful now, Y/n, or you’ll actually—”

Bang. The third and final shot sliced clean into the center of the target. 

The silence stretched for a heartbeat, broken only by the soft rustling of petals in the breeze. You lowered the rifle with a satisfied smirk, turning to face Caitlyn, who was frozen mid-sentence. Her lips were slightly parted, her sapphire eyes wide with disbelief. 

“Actually what?” You teased, raising a brow as you casually slung the rifle over your shoulder. 

Caitlyn blinked, her expression shifting from surprise to playful indignation. She stepped forward, hands on her hips, her usual confidence quickly returning. 

“You actually tied me,” she huffed, though the corner of her mouth twitched upward in a reluctant smile. “Again. Do you ever let me win without making it look like I earned it?”

“Let you win?” You giggled, stepping closer. “You know me better than that, Kiramman. If I wanted to let you win, I’d miss the first shot just to keep it believable.”

Her nose scrunched up in that endearing way it always did when she was annoyed, and you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Well, I suppose this means we’ll both have to brag to our parents at dinner,” she said with mock seriousness. “Although I’ll make sure to remind them that I hit my score first.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Typical Caity. Always gunning for the last word.”

As the two of you stood there, the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow over the range. Caitlyn’s features softened in the light, her confident smirk giving way to something gentler. 

“You know,” she said, her voice quieter now, “I wouldn’t mind if we tied every time. It’s kind of nice… knowing there’s someone who can keep up with me.”

Her words caught you off guard, and your heart gave an unsteady lurch. She looked down at you, her sapphire eyes searching yours, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. 

“Well,” you said, your voice faltering slightly as you tried to recover, “someone has to keep that ego of yours in check.”

She laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. Then, almost shyly, she reached out and plucked a purple petal from your shoulder. 

“I’m serious, Y/n,” she murmured, her hand lingering for just a second longer than necessary. “You’re… different. In a good way.”

Your cheeks burned, and you were suddenly very aware of how close the two of you were standing. 

“Thanks, Caity,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. 

The air between you felt electric, charged with something unspoken but undeniable. As the last rays of sunlight bathed the range in soft hues, you couldn’t help but wonder if Cupid had traded his arrows for bullets—and hit you square in the heart. 

-------

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[caramelpenguin]

Felice mouths a 'thank you' at Sara over the choir teacher's shoulder as she closes the door. This should hopefully give them atleast ten minutes, and if Sara can stall her for longer, maybe twenty.

She turns back to face the choir, her hands firmly planted on her hips. Felice isn't even close friends with most of these students, but right now, that doesn’t matter. If they’re going to pull this off, she needs as many as she can on board. Clearing her throat, she eyes them all slowly, "Do you all remember the song Simon wrote? That we performed once and never sang again?"

The room erupts in murmurs and whispers.

"You mean the one based on the school anthem?"

"Yes! That one."

Someone snorts from the back. "The one that's not even subtly about Wilhelm?"

"Exactly." Felice squares her shoulders. "What do we think about singing that version on the last day instead of the original? As a way of surprising Simon?"

There’s a pause, followed by a sharp voice from the front row. A girl with neatly braided hair and a skeptical expression raises her brow. "And why would we do that? There’s no real reason."

Oh, Felice is ready for this. She counts off on her fingers, her words measured but pointed. "First, this might be our last performance as a choir. Wouldn’t we rather do something meaningful for ourselves than just the boring school version? Second, we've all seen the horrible crap Simon’s had to deal with recently- it's awful. It’s the least we can do to show him we’re on his side." She pauses, letting her words sink in before delivering the kicker. "And finally—his version is way better than the original. You all know it."

The murmurs in the room shift, tinged with curiosity and a few nods of agreement.

Then, from the back, a new voice cuts through. "Yes," Felix says, his cheeks lightly flushed. Felice has noticed him glancing at Simon during rehearsals, expression soft in a way he probably doesn’t think anyone else sees. "I think that's a great idea."

His endorsement cracks the ice. Someone in the second row murmurs, "I mean, it is better than the original."

Another chimes in, "And Simon would definitely love it."

"He's a good guy. Amazing voice, too."

Felice thinks of the way Wilhelm talks about Simon - this boy who treats him with gentle touches and loves him in a way that he deserves, like he’s something precious. She thinks of Simon as a brother to Sara, unwavering and loyal and someone who's stuck by ,who's dealt with the harsh blows. She thinks of Simon with his loud opinions at the start of the year, unafraid to challenge what he felt was wrong.

That’s why this matters. This isn’t just about the song. It’s about Simon. About reminding him that he’s seen and valued and that what he’s brought to this group has meant something.

Felice looks around the room at the hesitant faces, at the whispers still swirling among the group, and lets her determination harden.

“Listen,” she says, her voice firm, “this isn’t about whether or not we get in trouble. It’s about doing something that actually means something. For Simon. For us. If you don’t want to do it for him, fine. Do it because this choir deserves to go out on a high note. And because we’re capable of more than just doing what’s expected of us.”

No-one speaks up to argue. Slowly, the students begin to shuffle into position, the energy in the room shifting. Someone hums the first note, and the familiar melody builds—hesitant at first, then stronger, richer.

[nachrosas]

ORIGAMI | s.reid x reader

summary: in which spencer makes origami to help you feel better. pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader content warnings: none, just pure fluff! word count: 899 a/n: night, night! hope you guys like it! feedback is always appreciated! also, my inbox is always open to chat! till the next one!

The desk clock read 4:40 p.m., but time seemed to be dragging on longer than it should. Papers scattered across your desk formed a chaotic landscape: underlined reports, half-left notes, and a cup of coffee that had been cold for hours. You let out a heavy sigh, pushing a folder aside with more force than you should have.

Across the table, Spencer carefully looked up from the book he was reading, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He watched you for a moment, the pen still in your hand as if you had given up on writing anything.

“Something wrong?” he asked softly, but you just shook your head, forcing a smile that didn't convince even yourself.

However, he didn't insist. Instead, he bent down to pick up a piece of colored paper resting on the edge of his desk - which had probably come from a note left by Garcia. And, without saying anything, he began to fold it with meticulous and deliberate movements, as if it were part of a silent experiment.

“Spencer, what are you doing?” you finally asked, intrigued by the concentration on his face.

“Origami.” He didn't raise his eyes, but there was a small smile at the corner of his lips. “Did you know that, in Japan, it's believed that if you fold a thousand tsurus, you get a wish granted?”

You smiled, overcome by curiosity. “And what are you wishing for?”

“For now? That you feel a little better.”

The little paper bird he placed in front of you looked simple, but the kindness of the gesture weighed more heavily on your heart than any words he could say.

You watched him, now a little more relaxed, as Spencer took another piece of paper and restarted the process. With each turn, it seemed as if your frustration dissipated a little more as if he was folding part of it into the paper, leaving you totally mesmerized.

“Do you always do this?” you asked, resting your chin on your hands.

“Not always.” he replied, his eyes still fixed on the paper. “But when I was a child, I tried to learn all the classical forms. It was fascinating to see how something so simple could be transformed with a little patience.”

“You're full of surprises, Dr. Reid,” you joked, feeling the humor begin to return.

He finished another bird and added it to the growing flock on his table. “Actually,” he began, with the characteristic tone of someone about to share a curious fact. “Studies show that origami folding can be a form of active meditation. It helps reduce stress and improves concentration.”

“So you're saying I should try it?”

Spencer looked at you, with a soft gleam in his eyes. “Definitely. Here, take this.” He held out a piece of paper and began to guide your movements, step by step, patience overflowing with each instruction.

You weren't as skilled as he was, but when your first bird took shape, you couldn't hold back the smile that took over your face. Spencer noticed and, for a moment, seemed as pleased as you were.

His desk was now covered in little birds of all different colors and sizes, like a little paper garden. Each of them carried a small part of the weight that had previously been squeezing your chest.

You looked at Spencer, the smile that finally appeared on his face was now genuine, and carried a sincerity that made him feel like a small victory. The little paper birds scattered across his desk were more than just folded figures; they were symbols of patience and gave a gesture that, although simple, had managed to ease his stress load.

“Thank you, Spencer,” you said, your voice soft but full of gratitude. “You've really managed to brighten up my day.”

He looked at you, his eyes shining with a little surprise and modesty. Spencer wasn't the type who liked to receive a lot of compliments, but the way his gaze softened, and the slight smile that touched his lips, showed that he was pleased with the effect of the gesture.

“Well… I didn't do much. It's just a few paper birds.” he replied shyly, blushing a little. ‘But I'm glad it helped.’ the reply was typically Spencer Reid: humble as if any act of kindness was trivial. 

“Do you have any idea how to make one of these?” he asked, picking up another piece of paper and starting to fold it expertly into a beautiful flower. “I could teach you, if you want, of course. It could even be therapeutic, as I said.”

You felt something new take over your body, but it wasn't frustration. It was a feeling of calm and connection. It was all there, in the gentle movements of Spencer's hands and the sound of the paper being folded, as if he were sharing with you not just a moment, but a piece of his own tranquility.

“Of course.” you replied, your voice quieter now. “I'd love you to teach me.”

He looked at you, pleased to see your willingness to learn, and began to guide you. Step by step, without haste, explaining each movement with the patience of someone who understood that the most important thing was not the end result, but the process.

As his fingers guided yours, you realized that you didn't need anything more than that simple moment. 

[grandline-fics]

Hi, I‘m new to all of this and not entirely sure about whom all you write, but may I ask for the „reunion kiss“ with X Drake and whoever else you want?

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Reunion Kiss

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: X Drake, Benn Beckman

WORDS: 1,332

A/N: Thank you for the request! This is my first time writing for X Drake and Benn Beckman so I hope this is to everyone's writing. I decided to add Benn to this prompt since he's been someone a lot of people have mentioned in the past of wanting to see.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

X DRAKE

It wasn't often that Drake could venture to familiar waters for anything outside of maintaining his pirate facade while also conducting his actual missions as SWORD’s Captain. Between the double life filled with his life being threatened on both sides, rival pirates and motivated Marines, chasing his bounty Drake sometimes felt like he was never at peace and was constantly waiting for the next attack to come. There was one place he could truly breathe easy, and as the island slowly came into view Drake could already feel some of the tension in his body release. It wouldn’t be long now. 

He was strict in his duties and had no hesitations in the life he led, knowing that he was doing the right thing in the long run. Drake wouldn’t lie, it was hard at times by being so far away from you and for so long. He called you when he could and only when he knew no-one was listening but he refused to call you as often as he would have liked. Even with the assurances that the channel was secure he still couldn’t justify it. He didn’t want to risk it, not when all it would take would be one slip up. No, to keep you as safe as possible he had to be strong and only called you in emergencies or once every few weeks in-between getting to see you in person. 

From leaving the ship to walking through the quiet, sleeping village as the sun was slowly beginning to rise behind him Drake’s steps were purposeful and only increased the more your home came into view. A small smile tugged at his lips and he pulled out his own copy of of the key and unlocked the front door, taking a step inside. Drake’s plan had been to be quiet so he didn’t wake you but he froze in place when the door shut behind him and the cold edge of steel was laid against his throat in a clear warning to make no further movements. “You made a mistake coming here pirate…”

“Hello to you too.” Drake greeted smoothly, following the length of the blade until his gaze settled on your face. A small but warm smile began to grow when he took in your playful stare and soft smile. Had you really wanted to attack he wouldn't have made it within a foot of your house. To have let him enter first before surprising him meant you knew for certain he’d be arriving. Lightly he raised his hand to casually push the sword away from his neck so he could turn towards you. “So who blabbed that I was coming?”

“Who do you think?” You asked, lowering your sword to return it to his sheath and let it settle against the wall. Drake could only slowly shake his head in amusement, knowing it was without a doubt Koby that gave you some sort of heads up he’d be coming home. Now no longer distracted by your less than conventional greeting it finally dawned on him that he was home and you were so close but no close enough for his liking. Reaching out Drake’s arms encircled you and pulled you close. Wasting no more time, Drake pressed his lips against yours relishing in the soft and slow response that came instantly. 

Your arms wrapped around the back of Drake’s neck and you deepened the kiss, both of you using this moment to pour out your love for the other in a way that words wouldn’t be able fully convey. You pulled back and lightly cupped Drake’s face, unable to stop the smile now permanently on your face. Until he had to go again you were both going to savour every moment until you had to say goodbye again. 

BECKMAN

If Beckman was excited to be docking at the familiar island in Shanks’ territory, he wasn’t outwardly showing it. Shanks only watched his second-in-command with a knowing smirk as Beck sat at the table on the deck of the Red Force, completely relaxed and doing routine maintenance on his rifle. As always the first mate just went with the flow of Shanks’ whims and decisions whether they were completely planned out or just thought of in a spur of the moment strike of inspiration. His current decision though he would have at least thought Benn would have made some sort of comment about or cast a glance at the waters to check how far away they were. Shanks smirked and sat back in his own seat, knowing he couldn't be laidback or cool, calm, and collected forever. 

“So who’s staying on board tonight?” Hongo asked casually as the island drew closer. The ship’s doctor cast a suspicious glance at Benn who still remained relaxed, leaning by the railing and smoking idly. Everyone on board was all but itching to tease the first mate but he infuriatingly wasn’t giving them anything to go on yet. Benn however failed to see why they were acting like this, every single time they did this and every single time he didn’t change. He shifted his stance and held back his smirk when everyone on board sharpened their gaze on him, only to deflate when he simply blew out a small stream of smoke. Finally Shanks spoke up, knowing no one on board wanted to miss the fun. “We’ll be fine. So let’s all enjoy tonight, yeah?”

The welcome to the island town was as loud and warm as expected being one of Shanks’ oldest islands under his protection. Benn smiled politely to the civilians calling out greetings and walked with Shanks to the crew’s favourite bar in need of a place to unwind and recuperate from the long journey. Benn felt Shanks clap his shoulder, his excitement palpable and he glanced to see the red haired man grinning at him. “Looking forward to it?”

“Looking forward to getting a drink.” Benn answered, his lips twitching in an amused smile when Shanks scowled at him.

“We had drinks on the ship. If that’s all you wanted then you could have stayed there or not bothered stopping on the island in the first place.”

“Well we can go back if you want Captain, you’re in charge.”

“What? No way!” Shanks dismissed dramatically. “Honestly, you’re so ungrateful. Anyone else would be racing to the bar if they knew someone like that was going to be there.”

The doors to the bar swung open and the patrons shouted out a chorus of greetings and cheers at the arrival of the Red Haired Pirates, their drinks raised in the air in a toast to their protectors. Benn’s eyes went straight to the bar and a lazy smirk appeared when you came into view. There you were sitting on a barstool, arm lazily draped behind you to rest on the bar and a drink in hand while meeting his stare evenly. You bit back the urge to laugh as Shanks managed to get to you first, his arm falling over your shoulder as he leant in to kiss your cheek in greeting just to mess with Beckman. 

Swiftly you intercepted his playful advance by letting his lips connect with your mug of beer that he took with no further prompting. At the same time Benn’s arms were on you, pulling you from Shanks’ touch and into his own. One arm wrapped around your waist and the other supported your back as he twisted you into a slight dip. Grinning you accepted his kiss with equal eager intensity, both of you ignoring the whooping and whistles of his crew. Breaking apart you playfully smiled while Benn rolled his eyes at the crew’s antics. “You love them really.”

“No, I tolerate them.” Benn corrected lightly, pressing another kiss against your cheek as he straightened you but kept you securely in his arms. “But I love you a whole lot more to endure their teasing.”

——————————————-

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[ohmy-gojo]

geto suguru falling for an underclassman reader ෆ (no curse au) pt.1

it was a new year— geto was already on his 2nd year at jujutsu high with the same two friends, not that he really cared about making friends. satoru just appeared one day and called him his 'best friend' and shoko tagged along. it was actually a quite comical group he thinks; a rich kid, a chain smoker and a boy who just wanted to die. but he supposes they were also popular around the campus (though he doesnt understand why)

he was casually strolling near the pond in front of the campus during break (actually hiding from gojo bc a new episode of digimon aired and he really doesnt want to hear his rants) when he saw a trail of... chips? leading near the back of the campus

his first thought was 'this is too weird imma dip' but alas curiosity got him and he decided to follow the trail of.. chips. who knows if thats how they lure people and kidnap them nowadays? if so hes sure people like satoru would surely fall for the trap (he thinks as he himself follows the said trap)

after reaching the end of the trail, he was surprised to face a young girl instead of an old beefy hitman. this was his supposed kidnapper? she was pretty cute so he wouldnt really mind he guesses. but the girl actually looked equally surprised to see him. the two stared at each other and owlishly blinked.

"um.. what are you doing.. here? if i may ask." geto broke the silence

"oh uh i am waiting?" she spoke softly and didnt elaborate further

'maybe for a friend?' geto thought and didnt ask for more details. though the reason he was even here— "do you know who placed these chips in the grou–"

before he could even finish his sentence, the girl pulled him and hid behind the concrete plankets. okay, this girl was nuts

"i was the one who placed the chips," she whisper-answered. "for him" she gestured to their front. geto followed her gaze and saw a.. puppy? he raised his brows at that, if she wanted to feed the puppy why not just give it that directly instead of doing whatever the hell that was.

she probably understood what he was thinking and finally told him, "that little guy was actually trapped in one of the slabs. i tried helping him but he was probably afraid so i decided to lure him with these chips and into safety."

oh, he thinks. that makes sense. they both then sat in silence watching the puppy eat the chips. it was a comfortable silence though. this is not a bad day, he muses. the nice weather, watching an adorable puppy eating chips with a cute girl sitting beside him.

after some time, the puppy left and he realized they were still holding hands from earlier when she pulled him. she let go of his hand after realizing herself and blushed lightly (he was a little disappointed).

"what you did was kind." he smiled at her.

"oh its nothing. i felt bad for him and i dont even like chips that much."

geto laughed at her reasoning. he was getting enamored by her weird charm and awkward mannerisms. they were starting to walk back inside their campus. "well.. whats your name?"

"i am (name)," she bowed her head lightly "please take care of me."

"of course, nice to meet you. i am geto." he smiled. "are you a 1st year?"

"yes i am. are you one as well?"

"no," he shaked his head. "i am a 2nd year."

"oh!" she suddenly stopped. "youre a senpai!"

he laughed at her matter of fact tone and nodded his head. this girl was actually weird but in a.. cute way.

before he could ask more about her, his white haired friend appeared and he just sighed heavily

"suguru??? what are you doing?" he looked at (name) and gasped "do you have a secret girlfriend? oh my god! shoko!"

"lord help me," he sighed again. he looked at the girl with him and saw her blushing and looking bewildered. as much as he found her blushing face adorable he decided to help her

"this is not my girlfriend you doofus," he slapped gojos back of head. "shes an underclassman, be nice to her."

"ohhhh?? shes a kouhai?" he gasped once again. "i always wanted one!"

geto deadpanned at that. look at this weirdo talking about the girl like shes some shiny rock. he was starting too feel weirdly possessive over her. after all he was the one who found her first so she should be his kouhai only, it's only natural.

with gojo blabbering about himself to her and her politely nodding at his words, they made their way to their classes. geto wanted to ask her about herself but found himself being cut off by gojo everytime. he was starting to get pissed but then saw (name) smiling reassuringly at her which made him calm down a little (he was almost pouting). then she had to leave for her class and waved at them bye. 'oh well,' he thought while waving back. he could try to meet her after school maybe? but this time without that blue eyed freak he huffed.

[jhyoos]

Dreams Come True

Chapter 6: Good Enough

summary: you start to doubt your self worth and wonder if you’re any good for vi.

mentions: angst, modern!au, fame!au, self harm, vi being stubborn 🙄, hospital talk, they were actually celebrating cait’s birthday, timebomb 🤭, dramatic reader maybe it’s all the painkillers.

notes : im writing this on the same day of me being sick and on period. y’all better be glad i love yall. 🫵🫶

You woke up to the sterile smell of a hospital, the faint beeping of machines around you breaking the eerie silence. Your throat ached with every shallow breath, and as you blinked the sleep from your eyes, you noticed Jinx and Ekko seated beside your bed.

"Tinker?" you rasped weakly, your voice hoarse and raw.

Jinx immediately jumped up, grabbing your hand tightly. "Don’t talk too much! The doctor said it’s not a good idea," she said quickly, her voice filled with worry.

You nodded faintly, glancing around the room as if searching for someone. Jinx seemed to understand immediately. “Vi isn’t here… yet,” she muttered, her voice dropping. “I’ve been calling her, texting her. I even used your phone, but she hasn’t answered.”

Her words stung, more than you wanted to admit. After all the things Vi had said—how much she loved you, how much she wanted to be with you—you couldn’t understand why she hadn’t shown up. The hurt seeped into your chest, but you forced yourself to push it aside.

“Mel is on the way, though,” Jinx continued, attempting to comfort you. “She’s bringing some stuff to help with your throat—and food. You need to eat.”

Ekko, who had been sitting silently, stood up and placed a hand on Jinx’s shoulder. “Let’s step outside for a minute,” he said gently, his tone indicating there was more he wanted to say out of your earshot.

Jinx hesitated, looking at you. “I’ll be right back, okay?” she said, her hand lingering on yours before Ekko guided her out of the room.

Now alone, you let your eyes wander, spotting your phone resting on the table at the far end of the bed. You sat up slowly, wincing as the IV tugged at your arm. You reached out, stretching to grab it, but the effort was futile.

Just as you tried again, a hand appeared, stopping you. You looked up to see Mel standing over you, her expression firm but laced with concern.

"I don’t think you want to look at your phone right now," she said softly, setting it back down out of reach. She sat on the edge of the bed and held up a bag. "Here. I brought you your favorite Chipotle order—and some tea to take home later."

You blinked at her, surprised, but took the bowl and fork she offered. The warmth of the food in your hands was grounding, even if you didn’t feel particularly hungry. As you took a hesitant bite, Mel relaxed a little, seeming relieved to see you eat.

“Don’t worry about anything else right now, please,” Mel said, her voice steady and soothing. “Jinx told me you haven’t eaten all day. You need to focus on getting better.”

You nodded, taking another bite, the weight of her words settling over you.

Mel continued, her tone gentle but firm. “The meet and greet is next week. We’ve doubled security, so… no need for this to happen again.” Her eyes flicked briefly to the faint bruise still visible on your neck, her jaw tightening.

You could only nod again, your voice lost to the ache in your throat and the heavier ache in your heart.

attention away from the food in front of you. You glanced at Mel, who had been quietly sitting beside you, and gestured for her to hand you the phone. She picked it up, glanced at the screen, and her eyebrows raised slightly.

"It’s Vi," she said softly before handing it to you.

The contact name Vi 🫶 flashed across the screen, and your heart clenched. You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the green button, but finally, you answered the call.

“Hello, babe?” Vi’s voice came through, casual yet tinged with concern.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the sharp ache in your throat stopped you. Instead, you glanced at Mel, silently asking for her help. Understanding your plight, Mel gently took the phone from your hand.

“She can’t talk,” Mel said firmly. “But she’ll listen to you.”

There was a pause before Vi sighed audibly on the other end. “I’m so sorry I didn’t answer your calls,” she began, her tone apologetic but far from desperate. “Me, Ellie, and Abby went clubbing, and I wasn’t checking my phone. I’m sorry. Forgive me.”

Her words felt like a weight pressing against your chest. You glanced at the bedside table, your thoughts spinning. Grabbing the paper and pen a nurse had left behind, you began writing. After a moment, you turned the note toward Mel.

It read simply: HANG UP.

Mel’s eyes widened in surprise, but she hesitated. “Are you sure?” she mouthed silently, her hand hovering over the phone.

You nodded firmly, your expression unreadable.

“Sorry, Vi,” Mel said into the receiver, her voice steady, before she ended the call.

The line went dead, and Mel set the phone back on the table. She turned toward you, her expression shifting from confusion to mild concern. “Why did you want me to do that?”

You shook your head, dismissing the question. Picking up your fork again, you took another bite of your food, avoiding her gaze. You wanted more than a sorry. She should’ve been here by now. That asshole…

Mel watched you for a moment, clearly debating whether to press further. But as you focused on the food in front of you, she sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Okay. But… when you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here."

You didn’t respond, the silence growing heavy between you. Instead, you focused on the mundane act of eating, using it to block out the swirl of emotions Vi’s call had stirred.

Once you felt like you had eaten enough, you closed your bowl and placed it on the nightstand. With a deep breath, you picked up your phone, preparing yourself for the inevitable flood of notifications. You unlocked it and saw the chaos waiting for you—texts from your parents asking if you were okay, increasingly frantic messages from Steb, and even a few from the CEO.

But what caught your attention most were two TMZ notifications.

The first headline read: Aurora’s (Y/N) Attacked by Deranged Fan Outside Burger Joint!

Your heart sank as you opened the article. It detailed the terrifying encounter you had endured earlier, describing your attacker and mentioning how Jinx and Ekko had come to your rescue. Your stomach churned as you scrolled through photos taken at the scene—your bruised neck was visible in a few of them. The comments section was already flooded with concern, questions, and speculation.

Shaking your head, you closed the article and moved on to the second notification, but this one made your blood run cold:

Hockey Star Vi, Spotted Clubbing with Olympic Ice Skater Caitlyn!

Your eyes widened as the article loaded. There it was: a series of photos of Vi out at a club with Ellie, Abby, and Caitlyn. What struck you most wasn’t just the carefree look on Vi’s face but the way her arm was wrapped snugly around Caitlyn’s waist in one of the shots.

The article speculated about a possible romance between Vi and Caitlyn, with no mention of you. It stung in ways you hadn’t expected. Even though you and Vi hadn’t confirmed anything publicly, her actions felt like a betrayal.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you zoomed in on the photo. The flood of emotions—hurt, anger, humiliation—came crashing down all at once. Vi had said she loved you, promised she cared, yet here she was, looking perfectly content with someone else.

Mel noticed the change in your expression and the tears streaming down your face. “(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” she asked gently.

You couldn’t respond right away, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. Instead, you tilted your phone toward her, showing her the article.

Mel’s eyes scanned the screen, her expression hardening as she took in the details. “That’s low,” she muttered, placing the phone back down.

The tears started flowing freely now, your sobs coming out raspy and broken. You couldn’t hold it back any longer. All the effort you had put into your connection with Vi, all the late nights and vulnerable moments—it felt meaningless.

“No, no, no, don’t cry,” Mel said softly, pulling you into a hug. Her arms were steady and comforting, but they couldn’t stop the ache in your chest.

Jinx, hearing the sound of your sobs, rushed into the room. She froze when she saw the tears streaming down your face and glanced at your phone, still open to the article. Her face fell as she put the pieces together.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” Jinx said quietly, stepping closer. “Maybe… maybe I should’ve told you about it earlier instead of letting you see it like this.”

Jinx joined the hug, wrapping her arms around you and Mel. Her warmth added to the cocoon of comfort, but it didn’t stop your body from trembling as you cried harder.

Mel hugged you tighter, resting her chin lightly on the top of your head. “Hey, hey, don’t jump to conclusions just yet,” she said gently. “There could be an explanation for this. You know how the media loves to stir up drama.”

Jinx nodded in agreement as she knelt beside the bed, placing a comforting hand on your knee. “Yeah, (Y/N). Vi might’ve just been out with friends, and Caitlyn was probably just… there. That picture doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. The image of Vi holding Caitlyn like that was burned into your mind, making it hard to think rationally.

Mel noticed your hesitation and gave you a reassuring squeeze. “I know it’s hard, but you should hear Vi out before assuming the worst. She might not even realize how this looks.”

Jinx chimed in, her voice softer now. “And, honestly? If it were something serious, don’t you think she’d have at least mentioned it? She’s never been one to hide things from you before.”

You nodded weakly, though your heart still felt heavy. You wanted to believe them, to hold onto the possibility that there was some innocent explanation, but the hurt and doubt lingered.

Mel pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours. “Look, you’re already dealing with so much. Don’t let this photo ruin everything. Focus on getting better first, and then you can talk to Vi and figure this out, okay?”

Jinx gave you a small, encouraging smile. “Yeah. You don’t have to figure everything out right now. Just take it one step at a time.”

Their words gave you a sliver of hope, enough to calm the worst of your sobs. You nodded again, letting out a shaky breath as you leaned into Mel’s comforting presence. You’d deal with Vi eventually, but for now, you just needed to focus on healing.

The next day, you went home to your apartment, seeking the solace of familiarity. Mel had decided to stay with you for a few days, insisting she wouldn’t leave until you felt comfortable being alone. You were grateful for her presence, even if you didn’t say it out loud. The days passed quietly. You sipped on warm tea to soothe your voice, occasionally humming softly to test your range as you tried to regain your strength for the meet-and-greet.

Throughout it all, you hadn’t texted or called Vi. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to; it was that you couldn’t. Every time you even considered reaching out, the memory of that TMZ article flashed in your mind, and the tightness in your chest returned. You knew it wasn’t fair to leave her hanging like this, but you also knew that hearing her voice might break you all over again.

Mel had finally moved out of her temporary home in your living room after you assured her that you’d be fine. She had insisted on installing a ring camera for extra security before she left, and you appreciated her thoughtfulness. That night, you sat in your living room with a mug of tea, trying to focus on the calming rhythm of a playlist you’d made.

The doorbell rang, and you assumed it was Mel coming back for something she’d forgotten. Without hesitation, you opened the door. “Come on, Mel. I’m fine—”

You opened the door, expecting it to be Mel again checking in on you, but when you saw Vi standing there, you froze. The sight of her—the woman you loved but felt so betrayed by—unlocked something in you that you couldn’t hold back anymore. Without a word, you burst into tears, your sobs uncontrollable as they wracked through your chest.

Vi immediately stepped forward, pulling you into a hug, her strong arms wrapping around you as she held you close. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered over and over, her lips pressing gentle kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and even the tears streaming down your face. She moved down to kiss your neck softly, her touch tender and full of regret.

But as comforting as her embrace was, the anger and pain you’d been holding onto flared up, and you pushed her away with a surprising amount of force. “Don’t!” you shouted, your voice cracking. “Don’t you dare act like everything’s fine, Vi!”

Vi took a step back, her hands raised in surrender, her eyes wide with guilt and concern. “I know,” she said softly. “I know I messed up, but—”

“No! You don’t know!” you interrupted, your voice rising as all the emotions you’d bottled up spilled out. “Where the hell have you been, Vi? I was in the hospital, bruised, terrified, and you couldn’t even show up? You couldn’t answer a single call or text?”

“I—” Vi started, but you didn’t let her finish.

“And then I find out through a *photo*—a fucking photo, Vi—that you were out clubbing, arm around Caitlyn, like nothing even happened! Do you have any idea how that made me feel? Do you even care?”

“I care!” Vi said, her voice louder this time, but still filled with desperation. “Of course, I care! I just—I didn’t know how to handle it. I was scared, and I fucked up, okay? I didn’t think—I didn’t think it would hurt you this much.”

“That’s the problem!” you yelled, your voice trembling. “You didn’t think! You didn’t think about me, about us. You didn’t think at all!”

Vi’s shoulders slumped, and she looked at you, her eyes glistening with tears she was clearly trying to hold back. “You’re right,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t think. I was selfish, and I hurt you, and I’ll regret that for the rest of my life.”

The room went silent for a moment, the weight of her words hanging in the air. You wiped your tears with the sleeve of your sweater, your breathing still shaky. “Then why are you here?” you asked, your voice quieter now. “Why now, Vi?”

Vi stepped closer, her hands reaching out tentatively. “Because I love you,” she said, her voice steady despite the emotion in her eyes. “I love you so much, and I can’t lose you. I know I haven’t shown it the way you deserve, but I’m here now, and I want to make things right.”

You looked at her, searching her face for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was regret and a genuine need to fix things. “It’s not that simple,” you said softly. “You hurt me, Vi. You made me feel like I didn’t matter.”

“I know,” she said, stepping even closer. “And I hate myself for it. But I swear to you, I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. That’s why I didn’t ask you to be my girlfriend yet. Not because I don’t want you to be, but because I wanted it to be perfect. I didn’t want to rush it and mess it up like I always do. I wanted the moment to be special, something you’d remember forever.”

Her words caught you off guard, and you stared at her, your anger slowly melting into something softer. “You mean that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Vi nodded, her eyes filled with sincerity. “I do. I’ve been scared of messing this up, but I realize now that I’ve already done that by not being honest with you. I love you, and I want you to be my girlfriend—officially, publicly, in every way. But I want to earn that. I want to earn you.”

The vulnerability in her voice broke down the last of your defenses, and before you knew it, you were stepping into her arms again. She held you tightly, her chin resting on top of your head as she whispered, “I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

You nodded against her chest, your tears soaking into her shirt. “You’ve got a lot to prove, Vi,” you said softly, your voice muffled.

“I know,” she said, her voice firm. “And I will. I promise.”

For the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of hope. Things weren’t fixed, not yet, but maybe, just maybe, they could be.

an: aye yo jhyoo why this ho so short? let me work my magic…the next four chapters are gonna be very happy and satisfying.

taglist: @val-k13 @snowbunnyboo @taurtel @justsomegaygirlig @alex-thegiraffeboyy @tobiotruther @krilara @veladeangl @kl1q @maruiin @ren-ren23

[misrepresentedmorallygrey]

PROPAGANDA

Rose Quartz Propaganda

"We saw her character arc in reverse!! We first saw all the good she did and then learned of her terrible actions in the past. If her story was told the other way around, it would have been a great redemption arc. Yes, she did some terrible things, but she had no choice. She did everything she could to stop the colonization of earth peacefully buy nothing worked. Blue and yellow diamond just didn't listen to her and when they did, THEY were the ones who made the zoo and shit. Rose wanted to free them but couldn't get to them after the war! And with the corruption, there's no way she could have known that'd happen. There's so many things she wanted to do but just couldn't. And with spinel, yes it was shitty to leave her alone for so long, but again, between running her court, running the rebellion, dealing with earth, she likely wasn't a very high priority and like with the zoo, there was no way to get to her after the war since the galaxy warp was destroyed. And don't forget, she was practically a child around this time. You're saying you didn't do any stupid, selfish, or harmful things as a kid? She learned from her experiences and grew, we just saw that growth in reverse, leaving us as viewers with a poor perception of her."

"Rose Quartz is Steven Universe’s dead mom. Initially, she’s set up as sort of an ethereal perfect figure who everyone misses and compares him to. Later we get to see more of her backstory and discover that she’s actually like, a person, with flaws, who has done some bad things, but she did those bad things largely in the course of trying to escape an abusive home life and save the people and planet that she fell in love with. It’s very clear that despite her flaws she was trying to do the right thing and that she deeply cared about others. Unfortunately, a woman who was not a Perfect Martyr was way too much for the Steven Universe fandom to handle. She pretty much set off the wave of SU crit blogs because these people were furious either that she had taken violent measures to solve her problems, that she hadn’t taken violent enough measures to solve her problems, or both somehow. Lots of “Why didn’t she just murder her abusive parental figures?” Lots of “She was evil for having a baby even though she knew she’d die in childbirth!” Lots of “She should’ve been able to protect everyone from a magic nuclear weapon with the power of love somehow.” Lots of “She shouldn’t have rebelled (even though not rebelling would’ve meant the destruction of Earth) because her abusers retaliated and that’s her fault.” LOTS of people drawing her as stick thin even though she was fat in the show. People treated her like she was on the same level or even worse than her abusive parental figures who were also the main villains of the show. It was unbearable to witness."

Katara Propaganda

"She's smart. She's powerful. She an eco-terrorist. She's got the ability to grow as a person. She's a victim of misogynistic fans who codify her as an annoying bitch (sadly not affectionate) cause she's the "mom character." And that's all she will ever be is "The mom character." She bested Azula and could blood bend your ass but won't cause she's chosen not to be a monster! But she's the annoying mom instead."

"if i have to hear ONE MORE *touches necklace* joke i’m gonna mcfreaking lose it"

"despite being one of the most well-written feminist characters of children’s TV, the fandom decides to define her based on her very realistic 14-year-old girl flaws. Ignoring her complex independent arcs and motivations, people love justifying their hatred towards her based on her one line directed at Sokka that he didn’t love his mother as much as she did. Which, if we’re being nitpicky, isn’t so harsh given that it was Katara who shouldered most of the burden of her death, as well as Sokka’s admittance that he doesn’t even remember his mother. Not to mention that ALL the characters make selfish mistakes given the fact that they’re all aged 12-15??? (Aang hiding Katara and Sokka’s father’s letter, anyone???) She really is an elegant breakthrough of the typical female character molds of “girl who is badass” and “girl with a crush on the mc who sits on the sidelines” and it’s so frustrating to see her get the most hate out of the Gaang"

Mabel Pines Propaganda

"[insert "i am 12 years old" comic]"

"You probably already know about this but back when the series was airing people were really pissed at Mabel because she was supposedly selfish. Yeah ok guys asking for a fucking megaphone to help a merman find his family was TOTALLY unreasonable. Dipper giving up one (1) "date" with a girl way older than him to save Mabel's pet was SO not worth it. (This is sarcasm btw. Side note a lot of these have to do with Dipper's crush on Wendy which is a whole other discussion.) And then there's the big one. Mabel causing Weirdmageddon. What people fail to realize with this is that 1) she was extremely stressed when she handed Bill the rift 2) she was tricked by Bill, a being that is A MASTER AT TRICKING PEOPLE, into thinking that she was being handed a magic solution to what felt like the end of the world to her, and 3) she was TWELVE. Not to pull out the "she is literally neurodivergent and a minor" card but do you really expect a 12 year old who's just been told that she's gonna have to face a big and difficult transition WITHOUT her brother who's been there for her all her life to make a rational decision? Y'all seriously fell for Bill's empty words in Sock Opera. Absolute bufoons. You would not survive Weirdmageddon."

"Oh wow, a preteen girl under extreme distress acts like a preteen girl under extreme distress. Whoda thunk?"

[yawnderu]

Currently thinking about neighbor!Simon with a sweet thing who keeps shamelessly flirting with him.

Ghost, the soldier who has been basing his life in self-control and discipline, knocked down a peg or two by his younger neighbor. He doesn't even respond to the flirting, simply replying with a grunt or a "thanks" so quiet you can barely even hear it before he disappears into his house.

Neighbor!Simon, who initially moved to your quiet neighborhood for some peace and quiet— and he gets just that, with one glaring exception.

Neighbor!Simon, who is forced to listen to your moans and whines as you bounce up and down a dildo, filthy nonsense escaping your lips whenever it hits a sensitive spot.

Neighbor!Simon, who seemed amused about it at first and ignored it, but after a few times started feeling his jeans tighten up.

Neighbor!Simon, who cups his throbbing boner over his jeans, trying his best to stop himself from jerking off, yet your whiny moans are taking away any semblance of self-respect he has.

Neighbor!Simon, who timed his strokes with the sounds of your squelching cunt, imagining it's him going in and out of you.

Neighbor!Simon, who pathetically came all over his stomach when you moaned out his name, filthy and overly loud words leaving your lips because you know he can hear you.

Neighbor!Simon, who since then was less of a Ghost in his own neighborhood, actually trying to reply to your attempts at making conversation with him.

Neighbor!Simon, who told you one of his awful dad jokes just to hear the loudest sigh ever, the corners of his lips threatening to tug up at your reaction.

Neighbor!Simon, who eventually started tagging along for anything you did— Grocery shopping? Paying bills? Going to the park? Shopping? He's coming with you, claiming there's lots of creeps around.

Neighbor!Simon, who accepted your offers for dinner, looking at you moving around the kitchen and helping you, imagining you're his pretty little wife.

Neighbor!Simon, who got enough courage to kiss you after being 100% sure you were interested in him.

Neighbor!Simon, who couldn't keep the surprise from showing on his face when during one of your make out sessions, you took him to your bedroom.

Neighbor!Simon, who was a groaning mess underneath you as you rode him, calloused hands holding onto your hips with a bruising grip.

'' 'S what you wanted all along, love?'' He manages to grunt out between his deep groans and moans, hypnotized by the way your tits bounce while your tight cunt takes all of him.

''Since I first saw you.'' You reply with honesty, leg muscles tired from riding him, but his thick cock feels way too good to even think about stopping.

''Good girl.'' He praises, eyes closing as his hips start to thrust up, meeting you halfway while you bounce on his cock, angling up your ass so he hits a more sensitive spot that has you moaning on top of him, his grip on your hips going to your ass while he moves your smaller body up and down his cock, thrusts getting rougher while you finally collapse on top of him.

''Cum inside.'' His hips falter for a moment as he looks at you with raised eyebrows, your hushed confirmation of being on birth control enough to keep him going even harder, driving himself into your cunt at an unlawful pace, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he thrusted deeply, the room filled with the smell of sex, walls bouncing with the sounds of your combined desperate moans as he shoved himself as deep as he could, filling your womb with his thick, fertile cum. It doesn't matter if you're on birth control, his seed is much stronger.

Husband!Simon, who got to come home from deployment to his missus, stomach swollen with his baby.

[itsswritten]

Cauldron-born

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: When an unexplainable energy pulls the Inner Circle to barge into the Day court, they're all shocked at what they find. But it's Azriel who can't help wonder if his dreams have finally been answered.

Part 2

“I hadn’t meant to hide this from you Rhysand,” Helion’s usual warm tone was replaced with something sterner, bolder— unwavering.

A breeze pulled on your skirt, the floaty material rippling under the wind. It was always warm in Day, but now, with the appearance of uninvited guests, there was a coldness in the air you hadn’t experienced before.

A bite that pulled at your skin raising goosebumps across your arms.

You guessed this reaction wasn’t a rare occurrence when facing the Night Courts Inner Circle.

Helion shifted his weight, his body stood in front of yours in a protective manner. A nervousness emitted from his energy, an emotion that actually seemed strange to even be associated with him. 

Helion wasn’t the nervous type. Charming and flirtatious, bold and defiant— not nervous.

Helion pushed his shoulders back, his stance flexing against the shadowy group that had just arrived. 

They had shaken him. 

Perhaps you were naive to think these people wouldn’t, naive to believe you could live your life quietly. Slip through the cracks. Go unnoticed. No you were not destined for that, as much as your dear friend may have wanted that for you.

So if a quiet life was not meant to be, then you would at least claim it as yours. 

With a light step you moved from behind Helion to his side, coming into full view of the group who had appeared unannounced in the courtyard. Your hand came to Helion’s gently, giving him a soft squeeze and light smile that stretched to your eyes.

How they had gotten through Day Courts shields didn’t come as a surprise really. Helion had divulged how powerful the High Lord of the Night Court was. That if he really wanted to take them all down, then Helion suspected in that unrelenting pit of power Rhys probably could.

But despite this power, Rhys had never ravaged control over the land. Helion was fond of Rhys and his family, they were allies. Perhaps he would even consider them friendly.

And yet Helion hadn’t told them about you.

Energies and rhythms rippling from their bodies, all with their own melody of colours unique to them floated toward you. Your eyes scanned over their features quickly, reading their expressions, the tight lines their faces made before one look pulled you to a hasty stop.

A hazel lock held you tightly as a males gaze ensnared you. 

Golden rays broke through a midnight blue aura, trapping you in a moment that seemed to expand and retract all at once. He was the most beautiful male you’d ever laid eyes on, and it took every ounce of will power to pull your gaze from his.

There was a simmering at the pit of your stomach, something familiar and warm, and you swore you could hear singing—

“She is like us.” A girl from the back of the crowd spoke, beautiful and sweet. Elain, you assumed. Her aura, one that resembled sunlight radiating in golden flicks. If you hadn’t known who she was you’d had assumed she was a Day court resident from her glow alone.

Elain stepped forward, another girl stepping beside her as if they’d both been pulled by the same magnetic pulse to the front of the group.

This girl. This girl was Nesta. You were sure of it. That silver flickering aura licked at her skin, an energy so similar and yet so different to her sisters.

“Hm..no not exactly like us…” Elain seemed to mutter, more to herself than anyone else. Her eyes scanning you as she tried to get a read, try and decipher what had pulled her here in the first place. 

Why you had pulled them here.

“Something other.” Nesta spoke.

You don’t think she’d actually intended for it to sound so venomous, but the words had snapped like poison. You noticed how for a split second there was a softeness in her energy. Whether she was regretful of her tone or not, you had flinched at the word.

Other.

Hm. Perhaps that was the best way to describe you.

Elain glanced at her sister, her face not changing as she digested Nesta’s words. There was a shuffling behind them, only slight and small. Would barely be noticeable if it wasn’t so hard for you not to notice.

Him.

His scarred fingers twitched at his sides, shadows swirling around them as they peered over those giant black membranes that were drawn in at his back. A tattoo creeped up the side of his neck, peeking through his shirt as you followed up to his jaw. Black leather’s covered his body, blue siphons shimmering under the setting sun. You tried so hard not to let your eyes wander back, but as though you had no control you gaze landed on his again. 

Only to find he was already staring.

Azriel.

Helion had mentioned him to you before and you recalled how you had rolled the name a few times in your mouth. The name feeling so foreign and familiar all at once.

“Not cauldron-made, no not quite.” Elain had turned her attention back to you.

You had stepped forward now, stepped out from the shadow of Helion.

Stepped out to face what you had been avoiding. 

“You are Cauldron-born.” 

✵

“Would you like to join us for some tea?” Your response had been after Elain’s heavy statement.

Your words coming out in a flurry to cut through the heaviness in the air. Despite being outside it felt stifling. Several eyes piercing into you. You could almost hear the way they were trying to decipher you— breakdown what Elain had said. 

You hadn’t allowed them the time. Quickly offering them tea, as you glanced at the small set up you and Helion had come to the courtyard to enjoy.

It was only a matter of moments before more furniture was erected and began the awkward silence while the piping pot of tea began to simmer to a cool.

Your hands were scrunched up in your skirt, fists full of fabric on your lap being an obvious tell of unease to those who knew what to look for. A strained smile was forced to your lips, expression light and brows arched in apprehension as you watched the uninvited guests silently take sips of tea. 

With a quick sideways glance you gave Helion a nervous smile, your lips wobbling as you took a sharp inhale. Helion responded with a gentle pat of your head, his large hand coming to ruffle your hair while a lazy smiled adorned his lips.

His energy finally shifting to one you recognised more, warm and teasing. He was relaxed again. Whatever shock the inner circle had originally caused, Helion now seemed...somewhat nonchalant.

That should have been reassuring, but the tension in your muscles didn't want to relax.

“This is y/n,” Helion finally spoke, addressing the people who had barged into his court. 

At the revelation of a name, the inner circle cast their attention solely on you. 

“These are my friends y/n, I’ve told you about them already. We had anticipated your arrival at some point,” he continued giving a knowing look to Rhys.

Your eyes scanned the expressions of the five people in front of you. 

Rhys, Amren, Nesta, Elain and of course Azriel. Not the whole inner circle, no there were members missing. But Helion had done such a great job at explaining them to you, that it really wasn’t difficult to figure out who was who.

“It’s l-lovely to meet you all,” you managed out, voice falling softer than you had hoped. Your own eyes gently moving across them all before flitting to the shadowy presence that remained stood behind the Night Courts High Lord. 

Azriel.

Spymaster and Shadowsinger of the Night Court.

You couldn’t seem to stop yourself from looking, among all the noise he sung the sweetest. His energy, amongst those swirling smoke coloured tendrils was the most beautiful display you had ever seen. Not the most powerful by any means, Rhysand and Helion’s outshone his aura in many ways but his was the most enticing— at least to you.

Composure wasn’t something Azriel usually lacked, but after hearing the softness of your voice fill the warm evening air he had to collect himself entirely.

From the moment he’d set his eyes on you, he couldn’t ignore the feeling in the depths of his chest. Maybe if you hadn’t been the cause of it, he’d have assumed there was something wrong with his heart. 

Azriel noticed the way your fingers nervously picked at your skirt, fists tight with the material as you sat up straight beside Helion. As if your posture would bring a confidence you were clearly lacking. 

He could sense it, your unease, nervousness. Picked up on it before even his shadows could whisper it to him.

Nervous, nervous, nervous.

He blinked them away. He already knew. 

Pretty. 

Another whispered. He already knew that too.

Pretty was putting it plainly though. You were breathtaking. 

Azriel wanted to reassure you. Comfort the anxiety he could tell you were drowning in. It was such a strange sensation, to feel this connection so deeply with someone he’d never met before, that Azriel couldn’t help but question why.

Azriel allowed himself to consider that perhaps something he’d been dreaming of for so long was finally his. 

That feeling, the ache in his chest you caused— was almost painfully lovely. He swore this was exactly how his brothers had described it to him.

Azriel found himself allowing the smallest curve spread to the edge of his lips, a gentle, secret smile. Just for you.

A smile that softened your own forced expression to something more relaxed and genuine. 

For a moment it felt as though it was just you two. The noise and vibrations of everyone else seemed to fade. An embrace of cobalt and hazel filling you with a warmth that felt so familiar.

“But Elain is correct. Y/n is cauldron-born.” Helion’s voice broke the trance you both seemed to be in.

Your nervousness from before simmering hotter.

“It cannot be,” Amren declared, disbelief tinging her tone as her gaze pierced into you.

“You think I lie?” Helion challenged. 

“How do you know for sure?” Rhys pressed back, an uncertainty in his tone.

“Because I know you all feel it too,” Helion’s voice was deep, a gleam in his eye as he turned to you proudly.

“She is the Mother’s daughter.” 

A statement. Even more bold than Elain’s settled a silence across the courtyard. This time it wasn’t stifling, their energy shifting to something of awe, admiration and then devotion.

In one quick movement a figure dropped to their knees. Head pressing to the cool stone ground.

Amren had bowed before your feet. 

And Amren bowed to no one.

a/n: Okay I know this a whole lot more of elusive-ness and I'm sorry, I just thought sharing this little bit more is better than nothing at all. I wanted to flesh this first out properly so here's the full part one! I've been so swamped with work and inspiration struck this evening so I quickly wrote this in my notes. I promise I will eventually finish it, even if it's just little updates here and there. I'm hoping maybe 2 more parts, so it'll be a nice little mini-series!

I also took it upon myself to try and tag everyone who commented and reblogged because you all seemed very invested so didn't want you to miss this installment even if it is tiny<3

Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @alittlelostalittlefound-blog @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

CB tags: @hannzoaks @je-suis-prest-rachel @awkardnerd @cleverzonkwombatsludge @faerieboismh @glitterypirateduck @paradisebabey @jesskidding3 @searchingforbucky @beardburnsupersoldiers @chubby-unicornz @toxicsociety17-blog g @sapphenaa @starsidesigh @kalistaangelsbane @bookishthoughtss @pit-and-the-pen

[leathfaic]

Ghost thinks he's cracked the code when he gifts Johnny an ultra complicated lego set for Christmas. Something to keep his hands and mind busy for a while.

He's watching, with terror and awe as Soap burns through a 1000+ pieces in an hour, with half a bottle of whiskey in him - drinking more while he's at it. He smiles the whole way through, though - and Ghost gets a tipsy peck on his cheek. Which might or might not have made the whole endeavour worth it.

"Thought that might keep you busy a while longer." he admits later, when he's deep into his own cups.

"Ach, dinnae sound so disappointed Ghostie, not'ing in there tha' can explode. Can work fast and sloppy."

Ghost just spent an hour staring at Johnny's hands and the concentration painted on his face. He knows there was nothing sloppy about that assembly. But he has to admit that compared to Soap's usual jobs, this is bound to be rather calming.

His eyes meet Price's over in another corner of the room. And the message, conveyed by a single raised eyebrow is clear. Ghost is not to add explosives to any gifts, even if it would make Soap very happy.

So naturally the next time - at Johnny's birthday - he slaps down a timer and a fully assembled lego set.

"Better get it done in time Johnny. And no cheating."

The way Soap's face lights up at the implication that there might be a bomb in his birthday gift should be concerning. But all it does is make Ghost wish there actually were some.

Johnny is a good sport about properly disassembling the marzipan compromise inside though. And just to prove he can immediately rebuilds the legos into the other figure they can form - taking a shot every time he has to look at the manual.

And when he carries his way too drunk partner to bed, Ghost vows to apply for Christmas leave. Which is something he hasn't done since...well for a long, long time.

Johnny, being the man that he is, never questions why they are going to spend Christmas in the countryside. A small cottage barely worth the name, as far away from other people as you can get on the Isles.

He just takes the chance to kiss Ghost every chance he gets, enjoying the fact that their isolation means he's getting an unprecedented amount of mask-free Simon.

"Got a surprise for you out in the shed, sweetheart." Ghost whispers when he catches Soap from behind while the man is about to open a bottle.

"Sounds like what a serial killer would say to lure ye into the open."

Ghost decides not to ponder that. With the reality of their jobs that answer... more than he's willing to argue right now.

"Should wait with that until you've had the surprise." he says instead, gently taking the bottle from Soap. Who for the first time frowns.

Ghost relents and they bring the scotch to the shed.

When Soap sees what he cooked up, he whistles low, no need to confirm that what he's seeing is the real deal.

It has taken all of Ghost's knowledge about explosives to craft the abomination. The two lego sets combined with a new third one, 6 sets of cables - all the same colour, and of course a live charge inside.

Johnny goes all still. Stalks closer like he's trying to get the drop on the inanimate object.

Watches it from all sides before turning to Ghost, "Do Ah need to follow protocol?"

His voice clearly tells him he hopes he does not have to. Ghost once again feels vindicated in his choice to move them out here, just pressing the bottle back into Soap's hand with a smile.

If this is what takes them both out then it's already worth it for the unhinged grin it gets him. Johnny's feral joy is infectious, and when he finally steps away raising his hands like he's expecting a crowd to cheer, Ghost honestly couldn't tell you how much time had passed.

He doesn't get a chance to ponder it either because the next second he's tackled by a full grown Scot with a half empty bottle of scotch in his hand and taken clean of his feet.

And if he hadn't already convinced this had been worth it, then the way Johnny makes sure to say thank you certainly is.

They do not make it back to the cottage for a good long while.

(This whole thing was inspired by my dear beloved @dismightyman who's singlehandedly holding it down in the Ghoap trenches with me)

[gojodickbig]

car sex with bsf!satoru x f!reader😗

conts: nsfw!!! MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!

wc: 3k.

divider from @uzmacchiato !!

if looks could kill,

that brunette dude you were just chatting with? yeah, he’d already be six feet under.

don’t get him wrong—satoru gojo isn’t the jealous type. seriously, he’s not. and he knows you’re not doing anything wrong; you’re just out here having fun. but watching you laugh at some guy’s jokes? that was enough to make his blood boil and his head spin like he might actually hurl.

and seriously, he knew for a fact that guy wasn’t that funny.

so why the hell were you laughing so much?

satoru knows that what he’s about to do now isn’t fair. not even close. because he’s just your best friend. he’s been your best friend for years now—the one who’s always had your back, the one who’s sat through your messy breakups, listened to your drunken venting, and never once let you down. you trust him with your life.

he’s your ride or die.

and god, you’re his.

and unfortunately for that guy, satoru gojo doesn’t share what’s his.

or well…what’s about to be his.

satoru moves through the crowd, his sharp eyes never leaving you. your smile was still a little too wide for his liking.

when he reaches you, your eyes settle on him, and your look softens.

his heart stopped for a second.

“oh! satoru,” you say, flashing him a smile, “this is—”

“sorry,” gojo cuts you off, his voice smooth, turning to the guy and flashing him one of his disarming grins. “i need to borrow her for a sec.”

you blink, surprised by the interruption, but before you can even protest, gojo’s hand is around your arm, guiding you away.

“we’re leaving,” he says firmly, his voice a little too low.

you stumble a bit to keep up with his pace. “wait, satoru, what’s going on? why—?”

he doesn’t say anything right away, pulling you through the crowd and outside into the cool night air. when you’re out of sight of the party, he finally slows down, but he doesn’t let go of your arm. stopping, he turns to face you.

“seriously, what was that?” you ask, your tone a little confused, but you have a pretty good idea of what’s going on.

he takes a deep breath, like he’s just been through a war. “he was getting way too close to you,” he mutters, his voice tight. “and you were—” he stops himself for a second, like he’s trying to control his frustration. “fuck—i just didn’t like it.”

you blink, thrown off by the sudden shift. “satoru, we were just talking. it wasn’t like that.”

gojo crosses his arms and gives you a pointed look, his mouth twisting into a frustrated but amused frown. “don’t play dumb. you were leaning in, hanging on his every word. i’ve never heard you laugh that much at my jokes.”

you open your mouth to protest, but before you can even speak, a small laugh escapes your lips.

“so that’s what it’s about?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “you’re jealous?” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “satoru, i wasn’t leaning into him. i don’t even like him. he’s just a friend from middle school. he recognized me and came to say hi. we were just catching up. i was laughing because he was telling me stories from back then, not because he’s some funny guy.”

gojo’s jaw tightens, his brows furrowing as he looks at you. then he lets out a low, frustrated “oh,” like the realization just hit him. “so you weren’t getting all googly-eyed over him?”

you shrug, suppressing a smile. “no, dumbass, i wasn’t.”

he runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to keep his cool. “well, shit. i don’t know why it bugged me so much. guess i just don’t like seeing other guys around you. especially when you give them that look.”

you roll your eyes, unable to hold back the smile now. “i told you, i wasn’t giving him any look and he was just being friendly.”

he shrugs with a grin, trying to act cool. “yeah, well, i didn’t like it anyway.”

-

the walk to the car had been quiet, too quiet for you. when you two arrived at the car, he opened the passenger door and gestured for you to get in.

“get inside. please.”

sliding into the seat, you barely had time to register the sound of the door slamming before he rounded the car and climbed in beside you.

the car was dark, the faint glow of the streetlight outside illuminating his sharp features as he turned to you.

“i’m sorry, by the way. i didn’t want to ruin your night, you know. but fuck, you drive me fucking crazy. seeing you talking so close with that guy drove me mad.” he reached out, his hand sliding up your face and squeezing it gently. “do you even realize what you do to me? i’m so fucking tired of hiding it just because i don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

your breath hitched as his words sank in, your pulse pounding in your ears. “satoru—”

“shh,” he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear. “i’m talking now.”

his hand reached out, sliding down your thigh and pushing the hem of your dress higher. “tell me to stop, sweetheart. tell me to stop, and i will.”

“satoru—”

“tell me, baby. what do you want? want me to stop?” his hand slid higher, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties. he groaned softly, his breath hot against your skin.

“no—no, please don’t stop.”

and in that moment, satoru gojo lost his mind.

before you could process anything else, his lips were on yours. rough. hungry. demanding. his hand left your thigh to grip the back of your neck, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. his tongue parted your lips with no hesitation, sliding against yours as if claiming every part of you in that moment.

the kiss was hot and dizzying, leaving you breathless as he devoured you like he’d been waiting for this forever. his teeth scraped against your lower lip, a low growl rumbling in his throat when he heard the soft whimper you couldn’t hold back.

he pulled back suddenly, his hand leaving your neck as he reached down to undo his belt with quick, practiced movements. the sound of the buckle clinking echoed in the tight space, followed by the low rasp of his zipper. he freed himself, his cock hard and throbbing, the sight making your mouth go dry.

“come here,” he ordered, his hands gripping your hips as he guided you onto his lap.

the cramped space made it awkward—your knees bumping against the console, your dress tangling even more up around your thighs. his hands slid under your thighs again, lifting you slightly to settle you over him. you gasped when his hand returned to your panties, his fingers teasing you one last time before pulling them aside.

“fuck, you’re soaked,” he murmured, his fingers sliding through your slick heat. “you were thinking about this too, weren’t you?”

“yes,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“that’s what i thought,” he said, his grin cocky as he pressed his thumb against your clit, drawing a soft whimper from your lips. “fuck, look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “so desperate for me. say it.”

“s-say what?”

“say you’re mine.”

“i’m yours,” you gasped, your hips bucking against his hand. “i’m yours, satoru. all yours. always.”

“damn right you are.”

you bucked against his hand faster, chasing the pleasure he was giving you, but he stopped suddenly, pulling his hand away entirely. you whined at the loss of contact, but he only smirked, guiding his cock to your entrance.

“take it slow, baby,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “i don’t want to hurt you.”

you bit your lip as you sank down onto him, the stretch making your breath hitch. his hands gripped your hips tightly, grounding you as you adjusted to the feeling.

his lips found yours again, this time slower but just as intense, as if he was savoring you now. the kiss deepened with every second. you clung to him, trying to adjust to his cock, feeling like you might melt into the seat if he didn’t hold you up.

“fuck,” you gasped, your head falling against his shoulder. “you’re so big—it feels so goooood.”

his chest rumbled with a groan, his grip on your hips tightening. “yeah? taking me so fucking well, baby.”

you tried to move, but the cramped space and his overwhelming size left you breathless. his hands slid down to your ass, lifting you slightly to guide you. he thrust up into you in sharp, deliberate strokes, hitting spots that had you crying out.

“fuck, satoru,” you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders. “you’re so deep. i can’t—”

“yes, you can,” he growled, his voice rough. “you’re made for me. just like that, baby. perfect fucking pussy—fuck.” he groaned.

your rhythm quickened, desperation driving your movements. the sound of your skin meeting his filled the small space, his low groans and your soft moans mingling in the dark.

“you’re close, aren’t you?” he asked, his thumb finding your clit again. “i can feel it. let go for me, baby girl. come on.”

your orgasm hit like a wave, your walls clenching around him as your body shook. the pleasure tore through you, leaving you gasping for air as your head dropped onto his shoulder.

“fuck,” he hissed, his pace faltering as he neared his own release. his voice was strained when he spoke again. “where do you want it, sweetheart? tell me.”

“inside,” you breathed, your voice trembling but certain. “want it inside. toru, please.”

“god, you’re gonna kill me,” he groaned, gripping your hips tightly as he buried himself deep. with one final thrust, he came, spilling into you as a guttural moan tore from both your lips and his. the heat of him filled you, the sensation making your already trembling body shiver.

for a few moments, the car was silent except for the sound of your ragged breathing. satoru’s hands slid up your back, holding you against his chest as he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

“i should’ve told you what i feel for you sooner if i’d known your pussy was this good…” he let out a breathy laugh, clearly pleased with himself.

you lifted your head, your hand swatting weakly at his shoulder. “you’re unbelievable,” you muttered, though the slight curve of your lips betrayed you.

“yeah? but now you’re stuck with me,” he smirked, tilting his head to capture your lips in a softer, slower kiss this time.

when he pulled back, his pale blue eyes locked onto yours, unguarded for once. “i mean it, though,” he said, voice softer now. “i should’ve told you how i feel sooner. you’ve always been it for me, you know?”

your chest tightened at his words, the raw sincerity in his tone making your heart race all over again. “well,” you murmured, brushing a strand of his hair back, “you’ve got me now, so don’t screw it up.”

satoru chuckled, the cocky grin returning to his face.

“trust me, sweetheart. i wasn’t planning on it.”

he leaned in, pressing one last kiss to your lips, and as his arms tightened around you, you knew you’d never want him to. “let’s go home now, yeah?”

© gojodickbig on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[sunrizef1]

Girl back home

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x wife!reader

Warnings: cursing (I think)

Authors note: this took forever, but now I can actually work on whiv now that I’ve finished this

Summary: Everyone keeps trying to set Logan up, but no one bothers to ask if he's already got a girl (surprise! he does!)

Word Count: 4.2k (jesus)

“What about her? she’s pretty,” Alex asks as he points at the five hundredth model to walk past the Williams garage that day.

If it hadn’t been his home race, Logan might have walked away an hour ago when Alex’s pointing started but instead, he stayed, choosing to endure Alex’s unrelenting matchmaking.

“No, Alex. I’ve already said no to about 50 other girls you’ve pointed out, what makes you think she’d be different,” Logan groans, his head leaning back to rest against the wall behind them.

Alex purses his lips, a frown on his face, “Why won’t you let me get you a girlfriend?”

Logan pauses to stare at the ceiling of the garage for a second before he turns his head to face the man next to him, “I don’t need a girlfriend.”

“Yeah sure man, I’ve seen you stare quietly at a wall by yourself more times than you’d probably admit. If that doesn’t scream “I need a girlfriend” then I don’t know what does,” Alex shrugs before turning back to face away from his friend, his hand coming back up to point at a pretty-faced blonde girl making her way past the garage, even smiling when she locks eyes with Logan, “Ooh what about her? She seems to like you!”

Logan just hums in response, his eyes closing as he leaves Alex to talk to himself.

In reality, Logan truly didn’t need a girlfriend. He had something even better, a wife. Who also happened to be you. You had met when you were kids and had been in love ever since. You liked to joke that it was love at first sight but every time you said it, Logan would wonder how much of a joke it really was.

You had been there for every step in his career, through the wins and the losses, through karting to Formula racing. So when he proposed after the end of the f3 season in 2020, no one close to you was really surprised.

You got married shortly after, neither one of you wanting a big, flashy wedding. Instead, the wedding was small but still nice, just some close friends and family in attendance. Even Oscar had been there and he made sure to reference the event to everyone who wouldn’t understand when around Logan. He loved to talk about the “party” Logan had in 2020 to the other drivers who, frankly, had no idea what he meant.

When he got his move to Formula One, you were over the moon for him. You didn’t worry about long-distance. You had made it work in the past and you both had total confidence in each other to make it work. You continued your degree in engineering and he continued his career in racing. You tried to make it to races when school would let you, which wasn’t often, and he was more than happy to fly you out when he could.

Logan genuinely loved you more than anything. With that being said, this meant that he did not have the time of day for anyone trying to set him up with the Instagram model of the week who had decided to visit a garage.

But at the same time, he also didn’t feel the pressure to share your marriage with anyone. He didn’t really know any of the other drivers very well and if they wanted to know more about him, they could ask. It’s just that no one ever did.

Except, it seems, when they wanted to set him up.

“Hey, Logan!” A British voice calls out to the American, whose head shoots up at the uncommon voice.

“What’s up, mate?” The blonde asks Lando, pocketing the phone where he had just been texting you to ask about your engineering final.

Lando grins and places a hand on the American's shoulder, raising his voice to be heard above the sounds of the paddock, “I was talking to Oscar and he mentioned something about your love life and something about you being lonely, I don’t really remember what he said but anyway, I’m talking to this girl and she has this friend who I think would be perfect for you.”

Logan’s face drops at the brunette's words, a frown replacing his smile, “I’m cool Lando, thanks though.”

Lando furrows his eyebrows, disbelief written on his features, “You sure, mate? She’s sooooo fine.”

Logan just nods his head in response, backing away from the McLaren driver slowly, “Yeah I’m sure Lando, you have fun thinking about your girlfriend’s friend though.”

Lando doesn’t seem to catch the diss as he just glances up and down at Logan before shaking his head and turning on his heel to head back to his garage. Logan sighs before taking his phone back out of his pocket to see another text from you. A grin breaks out on his face as he sees your name.

Logan hadn’t talked to very many of the drivers on the grid, often feeling on the outs of a lot of conversations. So he’s even more surprised to see Charles Leclerc making his way toward him at a club. A club he had only agreed to come to so he coule be Oscar's designated driver, by the way.

“Eyyy, it’s the American!” Charles says, the alcohol clearly present in his voice. The lights are too dimmed but if they were brighter, Logan would be able to see the lipstick smudges around his white collar.

“Hey, Charles,” Logan replies, scepticism laced in his voice. The Monegasque leans closer to him, the drink in his hand sloshing around in the cup.

“I have something to tell you,” Charles slurs a bit, leaning dangerously before a pretty brunette comes up and grabs him, based on her lipstick shade compared to Charles’ shirt, she had already been more than acquaintances with him before this conversation.

Logan glances at the pair before responding dryly, “Oh no.”

Charles grins before pointing back to where he had come from, a dark-haired girl sitting at the table, “That’s Natalie.”

“Navaeh,” the brunette pipes up to correct Charles as he nods in response.

“Yeah, Nivia. Anyway, she’s a friend of mine and she’s been eyeing you all night, thought you’d want her number.”

Logan rolls his eyes at the very clearly drunk couple in front of him, increasing his headache from the pounding EDM, “What an assumption there Charles. I’m actually good though.”

“What?” Charles asks, squinting to see the blonde under the club lights.

“No thanks,” Logan smiles tightly before moving to step around the couple and probably tell Oscar that either they were both leaving or Oscar was getting an Uber, “You guys have a good night though.”

The couple is already too busy sucking face to realize he’s left.

“I just don’t understand why they keep trying to set me up, I’m perfectly happy with you,” Logan complains to you over the phone a few nights later.

You were sat in your dorm, engineering work strewn across your desk and your roommate at a party somewhere. You were trying to get as much work done as possible before Logan came to Austin for the GP so you could spend the weekend with him.

“I mean, have you told them you’re married?” You ask, trying to stifle a yawn as your hand moves to write down the equation for the problem in front of you.

Logan shakes his head, the movement almost imperceptible through the small phone screen, “Nah, but it’s just that no one’s asked you know? I’m just waiting for someone to say “Hey Logan, you got a girl back home?” Before they try and set me up with some Instagram model they know.”

You smile softly as he talks, his hands moving to mess with his blond hair periodically. He eventually looks back to the screen once he’s done ranting and is met with your smiling face filling his phone screen, “What?”

“I love you,” you say warmly, your grin practically splitting your face.

Logan blushes before laughing and shaking his head to hide the redness on his face, “I love you too. I’ll see you next week yeah?”

You look down at the now-completed homework in front of you. Homework that could’ve taken about 2 fewer hours if you weren’t on call.

“Yeah I’m done with this. I’ll turn it into my professor tomorrow and after that I am free. When do you get in?” You ask, shuffling the papers together and sliding them into your bag before moving out of your chair and flopping onto your bunk, sleep clouding your eyes.

“Uhh,” Logan pauses, glancing at his suitcase. In reality, he was supposed to get in twenty two hours and six minutes from when he hung up the call, his flight leaving in three hours and arriving in Austin after a 16 hour flight and a 2 hour layover in DFW followed by an hour long flight to Austin. He would effectively be arriving about a week before any of the other drivers. Besides maybe Daniel. But he couldn’t say any of that. He wanted to surprise you, especially now that you had no work to do. So instead he just hums, “Next week I think.”

“That’s great, babe,” you yawn, a small smile on your lips at the idea of him being back with you again, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Yeah?” Logan grins.

You hum, your eyes drifting closed slightly, “Yeah.”

Logan notices your less-than-awake state and finally decides to end the call, “Goodnight, I love you.”

You yawn again, your eyes fluttering shut, “Good morning Logan, I love you too.”

The call ends quickly after and Logan glances at the time, grinning when he sees the 8:24 am displayed on his phone screen. You’d both had to deal with the difference in time zones for so long, you probably had all the time zones memorized. Or at least you remembered enough to call out good morning instead of goodnight while he was in Qatar.

His flight touches down twenty-two hours later and the first thing he does is call you.

“Hey what's up?” It's about 10:30 in Austin and the only thing you were doing was picking up barbeque from this place on the edge of campus that your roommate had been raving about.

“Not much, just bored,” Logan replies, his eyes scanning the background of the face time call for where you could possibly be this late.

You glance down at your phone for a second to do the same, eyebrows furrowing, “Where are you? It looks dark.”

Logan glances around slightly before replying, “In a car,” he wasn't lying, he really was in a car. Just one that was ubering to your campus instead of one with his team in Qatar, “Where are you? It's like 10 pm over there.”

“Just picking up some food,” you reply, eyes looking over the moonlit sidewalk that threads through the well-kept grass that surrounds you.

“This late?”

You laugh, “I slept through dinner.”

Logan smiles before sliding forward slightly when the car stops, “Are you just going back to your dorm?”

You look around quickly, “Yeah it's like a quarter mile back though.” You tighten your grip on the bag in your hand, the plastic having started to slip. Maybe your Ugg slides hadn't been the best choice for this walk but you'd manage.

“Oh yeah I know where you are, I remember eating at that place last time I was there,” Logan pulls his suitcase out of the trunk and tips the driver, checking periodically to make sure you hadn't clocked him.

“Yeah yeah, really good stuff and the owner remembered me today, guess I've been there enough times,” You laugh, starting to move back in the direction of your dorm once again.

By the time you had stopped to readjust the bag of food and your shoes, Logan had already started to speedwalk in the direction of your dorm. As he walks he passes enough drunk college kids to fill the football stadium they had all visited so many times.

You're walking pretty slowly, enjoying the moonlight shining brightly on the campus. Your shoes definitely weren't making you any faster to be fair.

“You turn your assignment in?” Logan asks, hoping you don't notice his eyes darting around the campus in search of you.

You nod, reaching a hand up to rub at your sleepy eyes, “Yeah, he even gave me extra credit for turning it in so early.”

Logan nods absentmindedly and you raise an eyebrow as you watch him do it before his eyes lock on something and he abruptly ends the call, “I've got to go, love you!”

You stand staring at your phone with a confused look on your face for a moment, words dying on the tip of your tongue. Weird.

You shake your head before moving to walk again, Logan's weird actions at the forefront of your mind.

Before you can even take a step, someone calls out your name and you turn quickly to see Logan standing there with the biggest grin on his face.

You gasp and wrap him in a bone-crushing hug warmth spreading through you from his arms. You move to spread kisses all across his face and for a few minutes, you both just stand there, not having seen each other in a few months and taking the time to readjust.

“I missed you,” you mumble into his shoulder, unexpected tears starting to spring from your eyes.

He just sets you down before wrapping a hand around the side of your face, “I missed you too.”

You bring a sweater-clad hand up to wipe away a tear before grabbing the food in one hand and grabbing his hand in the other, starting to lead him back to your dorm.

He grabs his suitcase as you start moving, “Is your roommate here?”

“No, you know how she is. She'll be with her new boyfriend for a few weeks so we're fine,” you wave away his question as you walk toward the building a few hundred feet away.

He smiles in response, “Hope you got enough food for two.”

You just laugh joyously.

A week and a half later, you’re stood in the hotel room Logan’s team had provided him, the room much nicer than your cramped dorm room. You had spent the last 12 days exploring Austin with your husband, making up for the time spent away from each other.

You had accidentally slept through Logan’s departure for the morning, waking up to a text explaining that, with your busy class schedule, he wanted you to get as many days of sleeping in as possible but he had gotten you breakfast and it was currently sitting in the kitchen.

You smiled at the text, appreciating Logan’s thoughtfulness. In the kitchen was a coffee from your favourite coffee shop as well as a McGriddle from McDonalds, which, no doubt, hurt Logan to order considering he wasn’t allowed to eat them.

You quickly ate the food, texting Logan to thank him. He texts back surprisingly quickly, considering he was supposed to be in a meeting.

He filled you in on how his morning had gone before asking when you’d get to the paddock for the race. You replied that you’d be there soon, quickly sliding on a light jacket over your tank top and jean shorts, preparing for the Austin heat.

Considering you had never been in the COTA paddock before, you would rather be in any situation other than your current one. There were about three hours until the race and you had no idea where the Williams garage was. You had gotten in just fine but, for some reason, you couldn’t find the blue of the Williams employees anywhere.

Logan wasn’t answering his phone, which you expected considering he had already been reprimanded for being on his phone during a meeting once this morning. Now you were left by yourself, trying to navigate the busy paddock.

You were somehow in a sea of orange, eyebrows furrowed. You turn in a quick circle, eyes setting on a curly-haired man in an orange polo who you take a few quick steps towards, hoping he can help you with directions.

“Excuse me,” you call out to the man who turns around swiftly, eyes pulling across your figure before landing on your face.

“How can I help you, love?” The man replies, a British accent laced through his voice and a sharp grin on his rosy lips.

You glance around slightly, leaning away from the man’s hungry gaze, “Do you know where the Williams garage is?”

He nods his head but keeps his eyes locked on your face, his smirk unfaltering, “Yeah, yeah, it’s just down that way.”

He points to nowhere in particular, moving to lean against the wall you’re standing near, “What’s your name, darling?”

You have to hide the smirk that tries to escape you at the fact that this man clearly has no idea you were married and also clearly thought you’d be an easy girl to flirt with considering his unwavering confidence.

You tell him your name and a grin breaks out on his face, “Pretty name, I’m Lando.”

Ah, so this was Lando. You had only ever seen him with his helmet on and from what you heard from Logan, his current behaviour made perfect sense. Logan hadn’t talked a lot about the Brit but he had mentioned him a few times considering he was Oscars teammate.

You hum, glancing around amusedly around the garage. You and Lando talk for a few more moments before a shorter figure clasps a hand on his shoulder. You lock eyes with the newcomer, grinning when you see a familiar boy standing behind Lando.

"Hey Osc," You smile at the Aussie. Oscar glances sideways at Lando, eyes shifting across his face before they turn to you. You just smile sweetly at the man who reciprocates the grin back at you.

"Hey," Lando glances confusedly between the two of you at Oscar's response. When Lando's confusion goes on a bit too long, Oscar turns and swings an arm around your shoulder, effectively moving the both of you away from the still-confused McLaren driver.

"I assume you're looking for Williams, then?" Oscar asks, running his free hand through his hair which had already begun to stick to his forehead from the Austin heat.

You hum in affirmation, sliding your sunglasses down your nose as the two of you step into the sun to make your way to your husband's garage.

Oscar makes conversation as he pulls you along, talking to you about how his season had gone and also asking a lot of questions about your engineering classes.

“I’d do a video for you, shock all your classmates,” Oscar says when you tell him you had to do a presentation explaining the engineering behind a piece of machinery and you had chosen a Formula 1 car.

You laugh, shaking your head as you do, “Yeah? I'd take you up on that, but I have a driver who'd be much easier to get a video from.”

Oscar snorts, smiling as you reach the Williams garage, “Lando?”

You roll your eyes as the name leaves his lips, hitting the back of his head with the small bag in your hands, “Don't get me started on Lando. You know he tried to set Logan up with one of his friends?”

Oscar furrows his eyebrows, “What?”

“Yeah, Lando said you told him Logan’s love life was lonely or something like that,” You reply, glancing around passively in search of your husband.

Oscar somehow manages to furrow his eyebrows even deeper, mouth opening and closing in disbelief, “That’s not what I said at all.”

“Tell him that.”

You both walk into the garage after that, you move to make conversation with Benny who’s sat to the side, surprise crossing his face as he sees you.

Oscar, though, spots Logan and makes his way to him quickly. He clasps a hand on the blonde's back who turns to face him with a grin, “What’s up Osc?”

“Lando was flirting with your wife,” Oscar states flatly, trying to push down the grin on his face.

Logan blinks a few times in an attempt to understand what the Aussie just said, “What- why?”

“Don’t think he knew she was your wife, mate.”

Logan rolls his eyes before turning around slightly to resume his conversation with his engineer. He stops mid-turn and swings back around to Oscar quickly, eyes wide, “My wife’s here?”

Oscar laughs at the American's face, stepping out of his line of sight so he can see you conversing with Benny.

Logan grins, sliding past the other boy to step toward you as quick as he can, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Oscar can’t hear what you two say to each other but he can see the love painting your faces as Logan plants a kiss on the top of your head. Benny smiles at the two of you, walking away to let you two talk.

As Oscar leaves the Williams garage, he briefly debates telling Lando you were married, especially to Logan, but he eventually decides not to. He’d figure it out eventually. Also might help to have him learn the hard way.

You sat in the garage for the entire race. But when Logan ends the race in eight, you’re jumping up happily to follow the Williams employee guiding you to where he’ll be.

The moment he’s done being weighed, he runs over to you, pulling his helmet off and unzipping his suit to his hips.

He grasps the side of your face, pulling you to him as he kisses you softly. He pulls away slightly and rests his forehead against yours, lifting a hand to grab the one you have against the side of his face, fingers brushing over your wedding ring.

“Thank you for being here. I love you.”

You can’t help the lovely laugh that escapes you, throwing your head back a bit to escape the heat rising on your cheeks, “I love you too, dork. I’m so proud of you.”

He smiles before leaning to catch you in another kiss.

Lando had finished the race in 4th. Not bad considering who had finished in front of him. He’d already talked to his team so he was now just roaming around, looking for someone to talk to.

He locks eyes on you and takes a few steps toward you before someone comes running past him. He looks over to see Logan grasping your face in his hands before pulling you down into a kiss.

He can’t help but stand in shock for a few moments although he can sense a couple people walking up next to him. He glances beside him to see Charles and Alex, both also staring at Logan in disbelief.

“What the hell?” Lando asks, to no one in particular. Luckily, or unfortunately, for him, someone has an answer.

“Are you lot staring at Logan and his wife?” Lando doesn’t look over to catch the amused look on Oscar’s face as he asks the question. But Alex does, and he furrows his eyebrows at the younger man.

“Sorry?” Alex asks the Aussie who just smiles and turns back to the couple, still smiling in each other's embrace.

Charles is the first one to notice anything and he smacks the other two on the head when he does, “They’re both wearing wedding rings.”

Alex blinks for a second, caught in the strange reality that he hadn’t noticed his teammate wearing a wedding ring the whole season. He pulls out his phone to go through old photos and low-and-behold, Logan’s wearing a ring in every single one.

“Jesus Christ,” Lando mumbles, running a hand through his damp curls, “I flirted with her.”

“Yeah,” Oscar nods, hands on his hips, “I probably wouldn’t talk to Logan for a while if I were you. Unless you want to find out how they do it in Florida.”

Lando gulps at the boy's words, of course, having no idea how they “do it” in Florida but only assuming he’d end up with a black eye. Oscar has to stifle a laugh, knowing Logan would most likely just laugh it off if Lando genuinely apologized. Not that Lando would.

Oscar's eyes drift across the trio of confused drivers, most likely all going through their memories of the times they had tried to set Logan up.

“You told me he was lonely,” Lando finally whines out, turning back to Oscar who shakes his head.

“I told you he was lonely because his girlfriend couldn’t make it to any of the races. If you would listen, you would’ve heard that part.”

Lando has no defence to that and turns his head back again to watch as Logan laughs at something you said, fingers intertwined together.

When the news spread across the paddock the next day, Logan received a lot of incredulous texts from drivers and employees alike, all shocked that he was in a relationship, let alone married.

Logan didn’t read any of them, he was too busy hanging out with you.

Except, of course, the message from Oscar that included three specific drivers all with their eyes wide as they stared at him and you.

——————————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

[mattybsgroupie]

obsessed | matt sturniolo

contents: established relationship; boob sucking/nipple play (f receiving); p in v; creampie; sub!matt

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: happy december!!! i know i’ve been taking a little too long to write, but the semester is almost over and i’m ready to lock in. i apologize for slacking and i’m so grateful for your patience and love ♡ here’s a titty obsessed sub!matt cause i know y’all fucking love it! not proofread, enjoy!!! also — first time writing a full fic in 2nd person. let me know if you guys like it or if i should go back to the previous version!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ requested by: anon

© credits to my beautiful girl @submattenthusiast who also has a titty obsessed matt fic!

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after a long, tiring day, you were more than ready to go home — actually, to matt. he was your point of peace at the end of the day, and this had been an exhausting one. 

you dragged your feet lazily across the wooden floor, taking slow steps towards your bedroom. you knocked gently on the door before opening it to find matt sitting in his gaming chair, his fingers furiously switching between the buttons on the console resting on his hand. certainly, your presence quickly soothed whatever it was that was making him anxious, a soft smile appearing on his lips as you walked over to him. 

matt removed his headset before opening his arms, a low “c’mere” murmuring from his lips. you smiled back, defeated and tired, trying to find some comfort in his warm embrace.

matt quickly wrapped both of his arms around your waist, parting his legs slightly so you could fit better. you chuckled at his eagerness, ruffling his hair and placing a kiss on the top of his head. 

“tired?” matt asked, looking up with his blue, calm orbs. you sighed before nodding, not really wanting to talk or make a fuss out of it.

“let me take care of you, yeah?” he said, running his thumbs all the way down your spine. matt got up from the chair and, while still holding you, led the way to your bed. he gently let you get comfortable on the mattress and soon joined you, his body hovering over yours, his own weight balanced by his elbows.

as matt’s weight shifted beside you, he carefully cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips and pulling the lower one apart. with a grin, you opened your mouth a bit more, waiting for him to continue.

matt placed his digit on your tongue and you quickly wrapped your lips around it, starting to suck. “naughty girl” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. after a while, matt removed his finger of your mouth, receiving a whine in protest. 

matt’s eyes flickered back to your lips. he missed you more than ever and before you could say anything, he closed the distance between the both of you, smashing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. your hands immediately found their way into his hair, your fingers tangling on his soft, brown strands as you melted into the kiss.

his hands tightened their grip on your waist, pulling you closer as his large palm wandered across your body, finally meeting what he wanted the most: your boobs.

you let out a surprised gasp with the sudden touch, matt gently squeezing one of your tits as his whispered “can i have them? please?”

you chuckled at his eagerness, feeling his fingertips travel underneath your shirt. you nodded with a smile and, instead of helping you undress, matt simply slid his head underneath the fabric, his breath getting heavier as he pressed his lips on your tummy and made his way upwards.

you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, holding a moan that was trying to escape. matt knew exactly where to touch you — all he wanted was to make you feel good. 

he latched on your nipple, his tongue swirling around your hardened nub before starting to suck it. matt was obsessed with your boobs and needed them every single day.

he wouldn’t say it out loud, but he loved whenever you raised your shirt so he could grip, bite, suck and do whatever he wanted on them. as soon as his lips were there, he’d immediately get hard, trying his best to cover the pathetic boner in his pants.

this time was no different. matt sucked greedily and hungrily, holding your hips down and making a mess on your breasts with his own drool. he loved every second of it and so did you, the wet patch in your panties growing wider as you felt matt’s bulge rubbing against your thigh.

“what’s going on down there, hm?” you cooed, receiving a whine in response. he didn’t wanna let go and he wasn’t planning on doing it any time soon, even if that meant cumming untouched. “be a good boy” your words sent a shiver down his spine, his cock twitching inside his pants.

“c’mon matt, you’re gonna milk me dry” you chuckled, touching the hem of your shirt and pulling it up, revealing matt. his cheeks were flushed and his hair was messy, a dazed look on his face. 

“you’re just so yummy” he muffled, nuzzling his head on your bare chest. “do you think so?” you teased, adjusting underneath him, your knee slightly pressing against his hardened cock. matt choked on a moan, his desire growing each second. 

“please” he murmured. “i’ll do anything you want, i n-need you so bad” matt managed to speak, his desperation to please you was evident in every touch, every word, every lingering glance. 

“anything i want?” you smirked and he nodded, puppy eyes gazing at you desperately.

“i promise i’m gonna make you feel good” he added, dragging with his tongue on your bruised skin, biting your neck sloppily. you moved your hand down his torso, reaching for his boner and palming his dick over the cloth. matt trembled, as if he was close to his climax just from your touch.

 “is that so, baby? i don’t think you’re gonna be able to hold much longer” you teased, wrapping your knuckles around his covered cock. you could feel the wetness spreading through the fabric, matt’s pants almost leaking from the amount of pre-cum. 

“i really wanted you to cum inside of me” you whispered, a whimper coming from the back of his throat.

“i can hold it!” matt firmly said, too busy trying not to cum to give any attention to your neck, your lips, or even your — his — beloved boobs. “i c-can! wan’ cum inside you, please” he begged, unwittingly jerking his hips forward. 

“such a needy boy” you cooed, moving your fingers to his waistband and helping him remove it. matt’s cock slapped against his lower belly, his red, swollen tip leaking pre-cum from his slit.

“fill me up” you said. that was all matt needed — he got up on his knees and removed his shirt before going back to you, two fingers reaching for the wet spot in your underwear. matt pulled your panties aside, displaying your swollen clit and giving it light taps before moving his thumb in circular motions.

matt didn’t even bother taking your panties off, stroking his own cock as he placed he tip near your hole. he also didn’t slide in gradually and steadily like he used to, pushing himself inside you without even asking.

you threw your head back, gripping on the sheets as his veins pumped against your walls. matt’s huge cock filled you up entirely — honestly, he didn’t mind staying like that forever, as long as he was inside you and having your tits.

matt lowered himself closer to you, letting you adjust to his size before latching on your nipple, a pleased hum coming from him as he sucked one and groped the other, squeezing it harshly.

“matt— fuck!” you managed to speak, tangling your fingers on his brown locks before placing your palm on his shoulders, your nails digging deep on his pale skin.

“baby, you’re so fucking big” you praised, and matt took this as his cue to start moving. he really tried to take it easy and slow, but he couldn’t. you were so warm and tight, wrapping his cock so perfectly.

matt’s thrusts became sloppier and messier, the sound of your skins slapping against each other and your loud moans taking over the room. the knot on your lower belly tightened when matt started pounding into you mindlessly, chasing his own orgasm.

“need’a cum” he unlatched from your tit and whimpered, waiting for your permission. “please, wan’ make a big mess for you”. he was adorable.

a few more thrusts and you were close, matt’s hand’s gripping every inch of your skin showing how much he needed you was more than a turn on.

“cum with me babe” you said, feeling the sudden rush of your orgasm hitting you without warning and throwing you over the edge, with a loud groan, matt came in thick ropes of cum inside you, painting your walls white. he kept pushing himself further as you talked him through it, praising him for being a good boy.

you could feel his cum — mixed with your own — dripping down your thighs, a tired sigh coming from his lips as he pulled out and collapsed next to you.

as you chuckled at his exhaustion, matt turned his head to you, a pleased grin on his lips. “these guys” he said, pointing to your boobs. “they’re the best”. you ruffled his hair and sealed your lips together, finally getting the rest you both needed.

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