#so i started speed reading as much as i could

[loz-chainsofcorruption]

Thanks to this picture, I was inspired to write a (very) short oneshot about Legend and Wolfie! Anyone interested can read it here on ao3 or under the cut below!

“Twilight can go with him as Wolfie. It said pets were allowed,” Warriors pointed out.

When they had only been able to acquire one ticket for the event they needed to sneak into but didn't think it was a good idea to send someone alone, that had been the genius solution.

“I am not a pet,” Twilight huffed. “He'll be fine by himself.”

“It's Legend. He'll probably start a fight,” Warriors muttered with a snort and then dodged away when Legend tried to smack him.

“We'll have to find a collar and leash,” Time said thoughtfully, “but I suppose that could work.”

“I'm not a pet! I don't care what you say. There is no way you're putting a collar on me!” Twilight snapped.

An hour later, Legend strolled up to the gates, leash in hand, the wolf attached to the other end practically dragging his paws. 

Legend presented his ticket to the attendant, who looked it over, looked at Legend, and then glanced at Wolfie. “Sir, I'm afraid your… dog will have to wait outside.”

Legend’s brows drew together in irritation. “But your sign says ‘pets allowed’.”

The man tapped the bottom of the sign, where a smaller font resided. “With some exceptions. Your… pet is a big large. Looks more like a wolf, honestly, and I really don't want to scare other guests.”

“But he's so friendly and nice!” Legend insisted. He looked down at his companion. “Aren't you, Wolfie?”

The wolf just stood there.

“Aren't you, Wolfie?” Legend repeated.

His tail began to wag in a slow movement.

“See?”

The attendant didn't look convinced.

“He's very well-behaved and obedient too. Watch this,” Legend continued, determined to convince this man to let them both inside. “Wolfie, sit!”

The wolf's haunches lowered to the ground at the speed of molasses, glowering at Legend the entire time.

Legend crouched, holding out his hand. “Paw!”

With such force that it almost yanked the teen off his feet, a large paw landed in his hand. 

Legend stood, perhaps having a bit too much fun with this as he added one last trick. “Roll over!”

It was impressive how much of a dirty look Twilight could give him in the body of a wolf. But he obliged, rolling over and then huffing out an annoyed sigh.

Legend glanced up at the attendant who still looked uncertain. 

“I… I don't know…”

“He's very smart,” Legend added. “He's been, uh… trained to… sniff out fires. If there's any danger of a fire starting, he'll warn everyone! And he can count, too! Wolfie, bark for how many fingers I'm holding up!”

Twilight frowned internally. What am I, a circus animal?

“Sir, did that dog just roll his eyes at you?”

“Wolfie,” Legend said in a scolding tone, four fingers still held up. “Are you disrespecting your master?”

Master? Legend was definitely getting bit for that later. Still, he barked four times.

The attendant finally looked properly impressed. “Well… I've never seen a dog that can do that. Alright, I'll make an exception. But a single speck of trouble from your dog and the two of you are out!”

Legend's lips curled up into a smug smile. “He'll be on his best behavior, don't you worry about it.”

The two headed inside. Next time someone needs to sneak in as an animal, Twilight thought as he eyed Legend's self-satisfied smirk, we'll see if bunnies are allowed.

So last weekend I was at Emerald city ComiCon (It's one of my favorite times to shop for art, books and handmade products form artists!) And as I was leaving after a long day of walking, My sis grabs me to turn me with incoherent hype and shouts "LinkedUniverse!" And lo and behold, an amazing Legend cosplay!!! This is @cloudyskies48 who's done a fabulous job down to the details of the bracelet and proportions of the tunic, I mean look at this! 🤩Even figured out how to interpret and design the gold trim that is ever inconsistent in my art 😆 This was such a thrill to see in person!

[ldydeath]

Feels Like I’ll Die Without You | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)

Summary: You run into your ex at a party. Neither of you are over each other, despite you being in a relationship with someone else. Will temptation get the best of you? Warnings: language, mentions of cheating, make out scene.  Word Count: 1.3k Author's Note: this is kind of a part two to I Used to Believe In You. You don’t really need to read it to understand this installment but if you want the background on why they broke up, you can read it here. Considering turning this into a series, let me know if you want a third part of this! 

It has been years since you’d been back in Korea. You didn’t even want to think about how long it had been or the way your last trip had ended. Something you’d thought would last a lifetime had come crumbling down in seconds. Looking back over the last twelve years you were glad it had ended. As much as you’d love Jiyong as a young twenty something in the industry it wasn’t meant to be. 

You hated how your brain instantly went to him the second your feet touched solid ground after your flight. You had a boyfriend and it has been twelve years since you’d seen Jiyong in person. Sure, he’d pop up on tv from time to time or social media but you hadn’t thought of him, talked to him, seen him since he’d flown to your house after you’d broken up all those years ago. 

For whatever reason, you were being forced to go to an event that you knew he’d be at, because of course he would be. Luxury, fashion, expensive things were his thing now. Long gone was the blonde edgy boy you’d met when you were first starting out. Now he was softer, more into fashion than you’d ever remembered him being. But your relationship had never really been that deep and for all you knew this was who he’d been from the start. 

“No shit.” You heard a familiar voice and turned, coming face to face with Youngbae and grinned. 

“Hi YB.” You pulled him into a hug, instant relief washing over you. 

An unfortunate circumstance of your fall out with Jiyong was the no contact you’d had with his three best friends post breakup. They’d been your friends too but as his closest friends and bandmates it was just easier for you to fade out of their lives.   

“You look great. How have you been?” 

“Good. Stable. I heard you got married and have a kid. That’s so exciting, I’m so happy for you!” 

“Thanks! I gotta admit I always thought you and Jiyong would be first to get married.” 

“Yeah, well…that didn’t happen.” The all too familiar voice of Jiyong rang out and you swallowed, your smile faltering. “Hello.” 

You turned from the safety of Youngbae, coming face to face with Jiyong. He was still just as handsome as ever and damn it if your heart didn’t speed up at the site of him. He looked handsome, his suiting fitting his body like a glove. The hat was a little goofy but damn it if he didn’t rock it. 

“Hi.” You squeaked out. Cursing yourself in your head. Jiyong smirked before raising a brow at Youngbae. 

“Excuse us for a minute?” Youngbae waved goodbye to you before walking away. “You look….amazing.” 

That was not what he wanted to say. You looked hot, but he wasn’t going to come straight out and say how down bad he still was for you. How no woman he’d been with since you could ever compare to you. You’d have all the power and he couldn’t have that. 

“Thanks. So do you.” You could feel the awkward tension rising in the room. 

“You wanna grab a drink and talk?” The way he said talk made your weak. That used to be code for doing anything but talking. 

“I have a boyfriend.” You blurted out and Jiyong closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. 

Of course you had a boyfriend. He should’ve known you wouldn’t stay single. You were one of the most talented and amazing people he’d ever met, you wouldn’t have just stayed single the last twelve years. 

“Ok? So a drink and we actually just talk.” You knew you shouldn’t, everything in your body telling you not to go with him. 

Deciding to ignore the warnings, you nodded your head and followed him. His hand reached out to grab yours and you knew you should pull away. Instead you linked your fingers with his and allowed him to lead you away from the crowd. He grabbed two drinks off a tray, handing you one so he wouldn’t have to let you go and led you outside. 

There was nobody out here, thanks to the chilly Korean night. You took a sip of your drink, your hand staying firmly in Jiyong’s hand. He looked down at your entwined fingers and smirked again before giving your hand a squeeze. He wasn’t going to let go first. Neither were you. Why was it so easy to fall into these old habits with him? 

Jiyong let go of your hand, moving to stand directly in front of you, his drink abandoned. Your heart sped up and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach at the closeness. You looked up, locking eyes with him and he moved his free hand to cup your cheek. You should back out of his touch, run inside, find security with the other attendees. He wouldn’t touch you like this in front of people. Instead, you leaned into his touch and there was that damn smirk again. 

“What?” 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” His eyes trailed from your eyes to your lips as he spoke.

You didn’t even question it, your body reacting to him whether you liked it or not and his lips were on yours. It was too much, too much passion, too wrong but you couldn’t help yourself when it came to Jiyong. You would probably always want him and that was why you’d stayed away for as long as you had. He wasn’t good for you, this wasn’t good for you. 

“Jiyong.” You panted, pulling away from him. “I can’t. I have a boyfriend.”  Jiyong shrugged at your words, leaning in closer to you. 

“He doesn’t have to know.” His lips covering yours again. 

It was almost too easy, getting lost in this moment with him. Hands roaming each other's bodies as the kiss took a desperate turn. His jacket was off, tie untied as he lifted you up on the table, your legs opening slightly so he could stand between them, your legs wrapping around him. His hands roaming up your legs as he broke the kiss. His lips latched onto your neck as he trailed kisses down your throat, your chest. Your eyes popped open as if coming to your senses as his lips brushed your breast. 

“Jiyong, I can’t.” You pushed him away slightly, jumping down off the table and smoothing out your dress.  “I’m not this person anymore.” 

Jiyong took a respectable step back and straightened his tie before sliding his jacket back on. As much as he still wanted you, he wasn’t going to do anything you didn’t want to do. If that meant he had to wait another twelve years for a stolen moment with you, fine. 

“I’m sorry. I got carried away.” 

“It’s fine. I did too.” You let out a sigh. You could’ve walked away at any moment, this wasn’t all on Jiyong. “I think I should go though.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I have to go present this watch anyway.” He took his hat off running his hand through his messy green hair and offered you a weak smile. “It was really good to see you.” 

“You too.” You nodded before walking away. 

Jiyong stood there, watching you walk away and swallowed the lump on his throat. He’d watched you walk away from him too many times in his life and somehow this one hurt the most. He wasn’t the same cocky asshole you’d met all those years ago but of course he hadn’t shown you any proof of that. The second he’d seen you all logical thoughts had gone right out the window. 

It hurt all the same though, having you reject him all over again. At this rate he figured he’d never be over you. It had been twelve years and he folded the second he’d seen you. Maybe one day he’d convince you that you were meant to be. But for now he’d just have to find a way to be ok with this moment. He smoothed his suit out one last time before heading inside, making sure to avoid you the rest of the evening.

tag list: @wcnderlnds @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @loveesiren @tulentiy

[kate-inthedarkness]

nepo baby eli x nepo baby reader... maybe?? please 🙏♡

Oooo omg I love this idea!!

Think I might make this into a little series if people enjoy this xxx

Honey Sweet, Pt.1 - Eli Hewson

Pt.1 Pt.2-coming soon

Elijah Hewson x nepobaby!fem!reader

Summary: Even though you and Eli have been apart of each other’s lives for years due to your parents being friends, the two of you were never really close. But when both of your families decide to go on holidays together, things change between you…

Warnings: friends (kinda) to lovers, a slight amount of nepotism lol, and this is a bit short, sorry! The second part will be much longer hehehe.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the Bahamas. The sound of laughter and splashing water filled the air as families in the villas near by enjoyed their vacations.

You found yourself lounging on a beach chair, reading a book you picked up in the airport, the salty breeze tousling your hair, while the backdrop of both your and Eli’s parents joyous laughter echoed behind you.

Eli wasn’t far from you. He was sprawled out on a towel, AirPods in, seemingly lost in his own world.

The two of you had known each other since childhood, bound by the intertwined lives of your famous families. Bono and Ali Hewson being his parents while Jon Bon Jovi was your dad. Both legends in the rock side of the music business.

The two of you only ever really saw each other when his family visited New York or New Jersey, or the odd time your family would head over to Ireland. But whenever the time came to be faced with each other, the two of you were never overly excited to see each other.

You didn’t truly hated each other, but there had always been an invisible wall separating you—a mix of rivalry and indifference.

“Hey, Eli! You wanna go for a swim?” You called, surprising yourself with the offer. Eli looked up, pulling one AirPod out.

“Did you just ask me to join you for a swim?” He replied, a hint of skepticism in his tone.

“Maybe,” you smirked, trying to hide your own surprise. You were both in your 20s now, and perhaps this vacation was a chance to break down some of those walls.

With a slight shrug, he stood up, brushing sand off his legs. “Alright, let’s see if you can keep up.”

Before you could say anything he sprinted down to the sea front, and it became clear to you that he was instigating a race.

And there was no fucking way you were letting him win.

You sprinted up to him as fast as you possibly could, making it your business to get in the water first. From the looks of it, Eli wasn’t really quite the runner, but he did have a good amount of speed on his side.

Luckily for you though, you had years of track running working in your favour. And it showed when you splashed into the warm water first, Eli following only seconds later.

Laughter had replaced the awkward tension that had characterised your childhood and teenage interactions. You both emerged from under the surface of water with grins that mirrored the suns brightness.

“Not too shabby. You know, for a Nepo baby,” you teased, the two of you swimming side by side.

“Ha! Says you Ms. Bongiovo herself.” He quipped back with a smug grin on his face, making you smile.

“Yeah, yeah. You got me there. Forget sometimes I’m not in the position to pick on you for it.” You chuckled, splashing some water towards him.

The afternoon unfolded with playful banter and shared stories. You learned about the early days of when the band just started, his love for the craft that seemed to run deep in their family, obviously.

In return, you shared your own dreams, aspirations, and the weight of expectation that came to having a famous parent.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you both found a quiet spot on the private beach you were so lucky to have just to yourselves, sitting on the warm sand.

“I have to say, I guess we never really gave each other a chance,” Eli spoke, his voice softer now.

“Yeah, I guess we didn’t,” you replied, looking out at the horizon. “But I’m glad we’re getting to know each other now.”

In that moment, something shifted between the two of you—an unspoken understanding and connection began to form. The laughter and teasing faded, replaced by a shared vulnerability that felt both new and exhilarating.

“Do you think we could be friends? Like, not half arsed friends because we’ve been forced to or anything. I mean actually be friends.” He asked, a shy smile creeping onto his face.

“Definitely,” you smiled back, feeling a warmth spreading in your chest. “It’d be my pleasure.”

The waves lapped gently at your feet, echoing a promise of something beautiful blooming between you two, a bond that had finally found its roots

As darkness enveloped the beach, you both sat together, talking under the stars before getting ready for dinner, the sound of the ocean weaving it’s magic around your new friendship.

But, something in your gut was telling you that there was more. More than just a friendship. And you’d make it your main priority of this trip to find out if your gut feeling is right or wrong.

[namelessprince]

i had a dream that i got some kind of pd spin-off graphic novel and it was so cool :'( if only she was real

[phoenixcatch7]

Just finished oracle of ages!!! Good game, good game. I have Thoughts.

I actually really enjoyed the story and characters! I figured going into the oracle games that it'd be a simple, cliché story, not much nuance or depth, and with Seasons that's basically what I got: din gets fridged in a crystal at the start of the game -> go get her -> you need a set of maguffins to do so -> fight big monster.

Admittedly it was the first game, which meant less story, but even if I hadn't linked (heh) the games for extra end game content Ages just did so much more.

Unlike din, naryu has someone else willing to help her. Ralph (the twinkiest twink to ever twink) was a young man who was her devoted friend (there was a weird crush triangle thing going on with him, Link and naryu, I always felt like I was missing subtext) and, spoilers for a 20yo game?? I guess?

He was the dethroned descendant of the ancient queen Ami. His family definitely still have big money though. He was pretty clearly supposed to be a comic relief character with a twist, but I ended up really liking him! He was over enthusiastic and over confident, but not unintelligent, a decent swordsman (I think) who was incredibly loyal to his friends and held some deep rooted responsibility for the people his family used to rule. Kind, determined, good with kids and people in general, he was terrified but willing to sacrifice his very existence to save the people.

The world building was also great! I don't think I've ever played a zelda game without gorons, but hylians were in short supply. To be expected outside of hyrule, I guess? Anyway, there were also lizard people on an island (tokay!) whose entire deal was.. A bit outdated? Rude, brazen and aggressive to outsiders, they lived in crude huts, worshipped things they didn't quite understand and were generally the old Hollywood stereotype of an isolated jungle tribe.

There was also, like, zora racism? There's a zora village underwater, and one of them was like 'us sea zora are nothing like those river zora 😒' which handily solved both my question of if the river/ocean zora divide was canon or fanon and the relationships between the two. Are they even the same species?? It just makes the rito even weirder but hey lmao. In all honesty I was pretty sick of the river zora at that point too, I swear there were two of them popping up in every screen that had even a sliver of water deeper than the knees and they CONSTANTLY shot fireballs istg they were such a pain. They were literally everywhere and so hard to kill.

On the plus side mermaid suit ^u^!! A dungeon item (the mermaids cave), the item had a desc like 'the skin of the mythical beast' which raised SO many more questions than it answered. The zora were delighted to see a young mermaid! The use of 'maid' implied either a) the zora all thought link was a girl and he didn't correct them (eyo genderqueer androgeny) b) the zora don't subscribe to gender the way humans do (eyo genderqueer androgeny) or c) all fish people look like mermaids regardless of their specific gender (eyo genderqueer androgeny). It literally could have been all three who knows. Maybe one day we'll actually meet a mermaid in zelda.

Also, there's a mini game in Seasons, which I played first, the subrosian dance. It's a pretty popular part of their culture, it's got music, it's got professional dancers. In Ages, you find the gorons doing the exact same dance! Rosa, a subrosian performer you meet in Seasons, is also there, saying her people's dance is better (tbf it is), but if you go to the past you'll find the gorons actually invented the dance first, as part of their love of games and entertainment, and you can talk to two subrosians who are talking about bringing the dance home! It's so interesting to see little details like this, where the travelling subrosians visited their fellow cave dweller lava eating people centuries ago, brought it back home where it exploded in popularity and centuries later became refined as a whole folk dance with spinning and everything, with the people forgetting where it came from, where the gorons keep their dance exactly the same (having to do a rhythm game without rhythm is hard).

Actually, there was so much political fantasy drama going on in the past?? Like, you've got the childless queen taking care of her people, a budding village and a few more settlements across the kingdom. Early in her reign she tried to build a tower to act as a beacon to her fiancé lost at sea, which is a romance story all on its own, but it was cut short (maybe because of funding?). Centuries in the future, it's just ruins. You've got people living on an ACTIVE VOLCANO starting a symmetry cult around a artifact called 'tuni nut' which, presumably, stabilises the volcano? And it's entirely cut off from the outside world. The goron elder is crushed under rocks and their economy is failing. The zora king got poisoned and he's about to die without an heir because a witch turned the fairy queen into an octorock, but the man in charge of the only cure refuses to hand it over until someone passes his tests.

Most of it is solved relatively easily by link and a copious amount of time travel, but the thing with the ruling queen only gets worse. When the evil witch invades the kingdom, she possesses the oracle of ages, naryu (who's a little implied to be the Actual Creation Goddess Naryu reincarnated) and travels back to the past to bring about an age of despair in the present. She does this by slipping into the royal court and befriending the queen as a serving girl, rising up the ranks to become her closest advisor and corrupting her (pretty sure mind control magic is used a li'l). She convinces her to restart the black tower project, pouring all of her and the towns resources into it - forcibly conscripting every able bodied worker and working them to the bone, all while monsters start to circle the tower. With all the fear and resentment, it quickly becomes a beacon of dark energy, a perfect focal point to perform black magics.

Link (and Ralph) end up in the past and get hauled in front of the queen, with possessed naryu at her side, who basically jeers at them and ensures the queen won't listen to their untrustworthy lies. The townsfolk are getting increasingly stressed as their village fills with rubble and their men are worked to the point of collapse. Armed guards start to appear to keep the workers under control. Eventually, Ralph uncovers a hole in the guard rotation, and he and link sneak into the palace through a secret entrance Ralph oh so casually knows about. Link and naryu fight, but with stupendous timing the queen walks in to see naryu collapsed on the floor, Link standing over her with a sword. She calls for the guards, but before anyone can react, the witch, banished form her first vessel, leaps into the queen herself instead. Ralph shoves past the arriving guards and into naryus arms, while link moves in from of them. The queen orders the guards to attack, but naryu, reawakened, pulls them back to the present in the nick of time. In the present, the black tower is magically growing, reaching higher and higher into the sky, terrifying the people of the city.

Then! Ralph, who at this point is suspiciously invested now his actual goal is completed and naryu is safe, vows to go back into time again, away from naryu, to live under the now evil queen and bring protection and comfort to the villagers as a direct act of resistance, because the witch is feeding on their sorrow to power an unknown ritual (link knows. Link, canonically, has told nobody). So this teen in fancy robes and cape goes back to the oppressed, poverty stricken town under the thumb if someone who wants him dead and lives there for weeks if not months dedicating himself to supporting the village and bringing people's hopes and spirits back up, presumably while living out of someone else's wooden hut. In the middle of a literal depression inducing miasma that's sapping everyone's joy and will to live.

That just. Takes insane strength of character. That's a feat of pure, distilled, compassion as anarchy.

Link's off bouncing between past and present doing dungeons and solving easier issues through either sword or magic item, but Ralph is out here doing the long hard slog for little reward.

Link finally returns to the black tower completed, affecting even the people of the present, and, preparations complete, rushes to the past. Ralph is nowhere be seen. Talking to the villagers reveals several have a crush on him, but an old man saw him running for the tower, sword drawn. There's a man pacing by the entrance, who saw the kid run in, tried to stop him. He said Ralph said that he no longer cared what happened to him. That the man realised that Ralph had quietly succumbed to the same curse of despair they all were under. Link fights his way up to the top of the tower, where Ralph confronts the evil queen, sword at her heart, but every step she takes into it, he steps back. The witch laughs. She asks him if he's really willing to write himself out of existence - being the queens descendant, and all. Ralph leaps back, into links chest. He's shaking and stuttering, but he lunges, and is knocked out in one blow. The queen now asks link the same question: is he willing to erase Ralph? If he strikes her, kills her, the queen will die, childless, and he will never live. She leaves, and link rushes to Ralph. He's awake but unresponsive, defeated. With a heavy heart, Link leaves him to chase the queen. It's naryu who finds him, brings him out of the tower.

When the witch is defeated, the curse is lifted, and Ralph is once more energetic and kind. He's a little quieter now, though, sticking close to naryu. For all he was a loud and headstrong kid, I gotta say I was very impressed.

He would have made a good king.

[connormoving]

i think itis funny in the past when i would list my interests as if i post abt them i donot post abt the shit im into rly Mainly bc im not rly Into Into anything anymore i occasionally watch or read or play something but i dont do fandom stuff rly much.... just sometimes i get brainworms

[moveslikegatsby]

'I should read Caesar as a corpus for my thesis about the syntax of the AcI' I said

'Caesar uses AcI all the time, it will be an easy way to gather data,' I said

and now here I am, minding my own business, fighting for my life trying to sort through full pages of AcI that are dependent on a verb of speaking that appeared a full page ago, trying to make sense of a pronominal system with three-way deixis in which everyone including the speaker is using third person, asking myself how I got here

[soleilapproves]

Play fighting with Boxer!Sukuna

Note: Reader is referred to as girlfriend at one point.

Masterlist

“Babe.”

“Not right now.”

“Babe.”

“Sukuna, I promise I’ll be done with this book soon.”

He huffed and fell back onto the couch. He had been trying to get your attention for the past 30 minutes but you were adamant on finishing your book. This is all the fault of that damn community book club your coworker recommended you join. Now whenever, you’re off work and Sukuna doesn’t have to train, you’re reading. Usually the two of you spent almost all your spare time together but now you spent half of it reading your newest book for your weekly discussion. You always did your best to spoil him with kisses and cuddles but it was never enough.

Book club be damned, he needed you to be superglued to his side every single second.

“My girlfriend has a side man and he’s made of paper,” he huffed to himself as he watched you intently read. What was so great about your book anyway? Was it worth ignoring your gorgeous (and shirtless) boyfriend? He even had a tattoo of your name on his left pec and you were still choosing to smother a book with your attention.

Sukuna’s wallowing turned him creative- he stood in front of you, trying to make sure your guard was down. You didn’t look up which meant that you were still engrossed in your book. His hand swooped in and swiftly snatched the book from you. “Sukuna,” you groaned. “Give it back, I was at a good part.” You got up to grab it from him but he raised it above his head. “Kiss me.” You glared at him and gave him a quick peck on his lips. “Done, now give it.”

“No,” he nonchalantly replied. “But I kissed you.” You wondered why he was being particularly irritating today.

“That was me begging for a morsel of your attention. Now cuddle me if you want it,” he said and cheekily smirked.

You ignored him and hopped trying to get your book. Sukuna simply dodged your sad attempts and laughed every time you missed. “I don’t even know why you’re trying.” You gave him a pointed look at his comment.

“Okay, fine, you can have your book if you beat me in a fight.”

“What? That makes no sense.” You couldn’t believe this man. “It seems like a fair challenge to me,” he said as he walked to a particularly high shelf and placed your book on top of it. “You know I can just use my stepping stool for that, right?” you said before scoffing at him.

“Then it’s a good thing I hid it.” His sarcastic smile was now pissing you off. “But you literally fight for a living. You have the upper hand.”

���I’m in love with you. Use that as a distraction. Come on, let’s go to the ring.” You were speechless as he dragged you to the fighting “ring” (also known as your bedroom).

Since you had a smaller frame than him, he agreed to let you have the first hit. You sighed and braced yourself. You didn’t have much of a strategy except for charging at him with such a high speed that he’d fall on the bed and would accept defeat.

But as soon as you were in close distance, he caught both your arms, turned you around and threw you on the bed. He didn’t give you a second to get up before he straddled you. “Haha!” he exclaimed. Seeing you all riled up underneath him was a sight he was used to but it never failed to awe him.

“Feels familiar, doesn’t it?” he asked as he began to lower himself to face you. “This is so unfair! You’re like 200 pounds, I can’t even move you,” you said as you tried to push him off. Sukuna grabbed your hands that were fighting him and he playfully wrestled them. Who knows what would’ve happened if he used his real strength.

Thank goodness for your quick thinking because you remembered that Sukuna was extremely ticklish so you pulled your hand out of his grasp with all the strength you could muster up and started poking his sides. “Babe!” he yelled before toppling over to his side.

It was your turn to straddle him and before you could pin his arms beside his head, he caught yours and pulled you down to him. He wrapped his muscular arms around you and tucked your head under his chin. Your cheeks were mushed against the very tattoo of your name.

You were literally stuck in one position. The more you tried to move the tighter he’d hold you. “Sukuna, you cheater. Why do I always do this to myself?” You sighed, accepting defeat.

Sukuna kissed your forehead and laid you both on your sides, still not letting you go. “Sweet, sweet victory,” he whispered to himself.

-•-

I need to be (lovingly) smothered by a beefy nerd. Someone like Clark Kent.

[incorrectbatfam]

Does the Batmobile ever get ticketed or does the GCPD just ignore it

Bruce: *puts a box on the table*

Bruce: Gather around, everyone. It's time for our monthly ticket review.

Bruce: First up, Steph. Can you explain what happened last Friday?

[earlier]

Steph: *looking for parking in a full lot*

Steph: Screw it, I'm going around back.

Steph: *parks in front of a fire exit*

[present]

Steph: I just needed to use the bathroom.

Bruce: And in those three minutes, the Joker released a giant water balloon forcing everyone to evacuate through one less exit.

Steph: It said "fire exit." That technically wasn't a fire.

Bruce: Well, the penalty is $100 plus the towing cost. I can pay it off but you have to help Alfred in the kitchen for a month.

Steph: Yeah, that's fair.

Bruce: Next up... Cass and Barbara? Color me surprised.

Barbara: Oh yeah, I had to remotely pilot the Batmobile the other day because Cass needed a getaway.

Bruce: Then why am I being charged $250?

[earlier]

Cass: *fighting a gang*

Barbara: Orphan, ETA thirty seconds. Prepare for extraction.

Cass: *knocks out the last henchman and runs to the car*

Comm. Gordon: *writing a ticket*

Cass: ?

Comm. Gordon: You're in a disabled parking spot without a permit.

[present]

Barbara: Well I am disabled.

Bruce: Understandable. I'll let it slide since it's the first time. Just file the paperwork for a permit.

Bruce: Dick, you went thirty-five over the speed limit when you weren't pursuing a suspect. Explain.

[earlier]

Wally: Race you to Keystone?

Dick: *revs the engine*

[present]

Bruce: You're better than this. I'm disappointed. Next up: Tim. Driving without a license plate. What happened there?

[earlier]

Tim: I wasn't supposed to take the Batmobile since Bruce benched me for my wrist, but my other ride is in the shop.

Kon: What about cameras? Can't your dad tap into the city's surveillance system?

Bart: Traffic cameras read license plates, so if we take them off, no one will recognize us.

Kon: Now that's an idea.

[present]

Tim: That's on me. I shouldn't have listened to them.

Bruce: Put them back on, plus you're benched for another week. Damian, on to you.

Damian: What on Earth could I have done? I followed the speed limit, parked in the correct spots, and never so much as changed lanes on an empty road without signalling.

[earlier]

Damian, a middle schooler: *driving*

[present]

Damian: Tt.

Bruce: Don't do it again. Duke...

Duke: *cringes and remembers what he did*

[earlier]

Duke: *hooks the Batmobile to a freezer trailer*

Duke: *starts driving around with a megaphone*

Duke: Ice cream! Get your ice cream!

[present]

Bruce: Fantastic job. No complaints.

Jason, muttering: Teacher's pet.

Bruce: And finally, Jason.

Bruce: *empties the rest of the box*

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 — 𝐂.𝐒.

Synopsis: Nick has been your best friend for so long, but you can’t seem to get a long with his brother—Chris. You try to mess with Chris and it backfires….badly….

Warnings: illegal street racing, stupid driving, tension, smut with so much plot it hurts, street racer Chris, BIG MASSIVE SHLONG CHRIS, size kink, bulge kink, dick-wad Chris, p n v, raw sex, riding (wink), and more....

A/N: THIS IS OVER 5.2K WORDS. THIS IS NAWT A QUICK READ. Now, get in the car bitches, we're getting HORNYYYYYY!!!!

With love and bigs tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey, cute jeans!” I wave, my lips curling into a grin as I squint my eyes at him—Chris. He rolls his tongue, shaking his head as he stalks off further down the street. Ha. 

It’s one of those rare occurrences—I’m here—at his street race, for god knows what reason. 

All I ever do is mock him. In fact, that’s why I call him cute jeans. The first time Nick and I had shown up at one of these dumb things, Chris thought I was a stranger from behind—and my jeans? Damn. 

He had to be a real asshole and hit on me. 

That night was fun for more than one reason. It sparked something—something I didn’t know existed. 

After that, my teasing only got worse. Chris’s ego couldn’t handle staying silent, he always had something smart to say. 

“Come to watch me again, huh? Gonna record it for later, I bet,” Chris winks. My mouth snaps shut as I go to say something back. He’s already gone—not giving me a second to respond before shutting the door to his car and speeding down the road. 

Typical. 

It’s still bright out. The sun sinks lower into the horizon as more people crowd the deserted street by the minute. 

“Okay, let’s just take a couple more pics and then we’ll go. I know you hate this,” Nick huffs, adjusting the leather jacket he’s wearing—the same coat that inspired this whole photoshoot. But you couldn’t blame him, he did look hot as fuck. 

Even if his looks resemble a certain idiot lurking nearby. 

Part of me is burning with spite. I hate letting Chris have the last word. But my brain sparks with an idea, a brilliant idea. 

How much would it cost him if I stayed around? 

Those stupid bets were always placed in his favor. No one could deny he was good—really good. He drove on the street like he owned it and he never even seemed nervous. 

“I kinda wanna stay—” My words are interrupted as I feel an arm rest down on my shoulders. I look over to see Beck, a girl I love seeing. 

She’s vibrant—especially with her signature red lip that seemed to draw all eyes to her. I always blossom off her confidence, loving to sit next to her when she showed true female power all with one swing of that stupid flag in the air. 

“How are ya, girlie? Haven’t seen you in months,” she puffs, hugging me a little bit closer before dropping her arm back to her side. 

I smile over at her. “Pretty good, you still stomping on egos?” I question, the glint of mischief in her eyes reflecting back as she gives me a slow nod. 

“Oh, always. Especially Chris—and it’s just for you.” She boops my nose as her words drag through the wind, the sound of tires screeching starting to muffle the chaotic hum of the crowd forming. 

Nick stares down at the camera lens, scrolling through the pictures I had taken of him—the reason why we were here, pretty much. “Actually, I think we got enough. But are you sure you wanna stay? I can come back and get you later—”

Beck brushes on Nick’s shoulder. She scrunches her nose at me while licking over her teeth. “I got her, Nick. Go home and post those pics, I’ll return her to you safely after tonight, don’t worry.” 

“Alright…” Nick sighs, reluctantly hugging me and wandering back towards his car to head home. 

“So why’d you wanna stay? Finally like cars?” Beck interrogates. 

I shake my head vigorously, laughing as she smiles at me. “Fuck no, I just—”

“You’re gonna mess with him, aren’t you?”

Her question rings through the air as a speeding car flies by—racers already warming up.

My eyes trace towards the track, seeing a sleek red sports car in the distance doing donuts. Of fucking course. Chris was always doing some dumb shit—illegal street racing or doing fucking donuts while the other racers were repeatedly drifting around the corners or fixing up their cars. 

He’s so cocky. 

I whisper back to her as I watch his car tires mark the pavement. “Damn right.”

___

Chris is already fed up—I can tell by the way his jaw clicks and his nostrils flare when I catch him in the corner of my eye. 

And I’m looking directly at him, a stupid smile covering my face as I put my money on the bet table. It’s twenty bucks, but it was twenty bucks I was willing to spend, or rather waste. Chris hasn’t lost in a while—honestly I’m not sure if he ever has. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Chris huffs, pulling me by the arm as he drags me to the side of the road by his car. 

He roughly shoves me. The feeling of his car pressed up against my backside leaves my eyes twinkling with pride—I’m really getting to him. Just like I planned.

I shrug. “Just placing my bets. Isn’t that what everyone does at these—”

“Why are you here? Why’re you–,” as his eyes stare into mine, his rough tone falls silent, his scowl curling into a smirk as he analyzes the subtle twitch of my nose. “Huh—just comin’ to watch, right?” 

I nod to his question, my pride sinking to my feet as I try to stand up tall. Chris presses his body against mine, making my weight lean against the car once more. I swallow thickly as his hand drops from my arm. 

What is he doing?

“You know, I meant it, right?” he tuts, his eyes tracing your figure with no shame. “These jeans… baby, they look so good on you.” His voice gets deeper, his head falling forward as his lips graze my ear. “-bet they’d look better off though, hm?”  

Fuck. 

I wish it didn’t make something inside the pit of my gut burn—but it did. God, it really fucking did. My heart is hammering against my chest, the pulse in my neck pounding in my ears as slight butterflies in my stomach make it harder to breathe. 

Shoving my body quickly, I manage to escape his hold. “Shut up. You’re such a cocky prick,” I spit, my arms folding across my chest as I try to keep a stern expression. 

Chris lets out a dry laugh, grinning like he’s already won. He takes a couple steps forward, letting his hand travel into the ends of my hair, “And yet, you love it. I can practically hear how nervous I’m makin’ you, it’s a real ego boost,” he husks. 

“You don’t make me—” My lips fall open further, motionless as his hand moves to my neck, his cold fingers brushing against my pulse as my eyes go wide. 

“Not nervous, huh…” His head leans towards the side as he stares all over my face. His eyes linger on my lips as I try to look away. 

But it’s impossible. Chris swerves his head, not letting my eyes leave his as he just stares at me. 

“Chris, stop—”

“Why? Do I make you too nervous?” he urges, licking over his teeth and letting his hands drop down to his sides. 

I feel a wave of heat caress up my spine and over my shoulders. “Don’t you have some stupid race to lose?” 

The taunt seems humorous to him, the last resolve of my dignity peeking through mumbled words as he wipes over his mouth. 

“Alright, alright. Guess I’ll go try to lose, but—I might need your help.” He shrugs, walking off with a wink. 

Uh oh. 

Help?

___

I can’t tell what the fuck is going through his brain. Part of me regrets staying—but another part of me is sickly invested in whatever this twisted game is. 

Nearly all bets had been placed. Stacks of money rested on the plastic table with a heavy bais—most were betting on Chris. 

It had to be at least two grand. 

He wouldn’t give up two grand for some petty argument with me, right? No—that would be insane. Absolutely bonkers. 

…right?

I watch as Beck stands in the middle of the dark street, the only glow coming from the blue streetlights above. The sun had set quickly, the stars and moon doing nothing compared to the headlights from all the cars.

My legs hurt. I didn’t realize I had been clenching every muscle for the entirety of the countdown to the actual race. The cold bleachers sting against my skin in the night air—maybe I would’ve dressed warmer if I thought I was gonna stay. But no—I was stuck shivering in jeans, a purple lace bra peeking from under my black top, and a letterman jacket. 

The front row gave the best view, but I had no one to shield the bitter breeze. But it was worth it. This way I got to sit by Beck the entire time. 

“Racers ready?” she shouts, her voice prominent over the reviving engines as she holds the flag in the air. 

Chris is on the side closer to me, his boyish smile apparent as I stare at the side of his face. The other guy was one of the better ones—the bets had some sort of hope in him, a large stack of bills showing that he had a decent amount of skill. 

My mouth waters as I see Chris run a hand through his hair, his head turning and his eyes catching mine. Holy fuck. He looks absolutely dreamy—there’s not an ounce of anxiety, pure confidence radiating from him. 

And it makes it so hard to look away. 

“Wait, I got one more bet I gotta place,” Chris announces. 

What?

My brows furrow, my face scrunching as I watch Beck relax the flag back down to her side. “Make it quick.” 

Chris nods at her words, my stomach flutters as he stares directly back at me, leaning his head out his window while licking over his lips. “Wanna make a bet, sweetheart?” he asks. 

I look around me, my shoulder sinking slightly as I take in the amount of people staring at me. 

He’s holding up the race to embarass me. Fuck. 

As I stare back at him with squinted eyes, he clicks his tongue on the side of his mouth. “If I win, I get to take you for a drive. Deal?”

“What?” I exclaim, throwing my hand in the air as I motion to the bet table, “Why the hell would I agree to that—”

“You bet against me, remember?” he points. 

My lips smack shut, the lump in my throat gathering thicker as I try to swallow. “I’ll even give you the chance to make sure I lose a round. We gotta bet or not?” he questions, his eyes twinkling as the blue lights illuminate his sharp features.  

If he had to lose one of the three rounds, that put more hope into the other racer. And if the other race won, I’d be more than content. Getting to call him a loser would definitely irk him more than anything—especially if it was true.

I hear boos chant around me. “Hurry up and race!” someone says from behind me. 

My body stiffens as I hear the chorus of disapproval. “Deal!” I shout, biting on my inner cheek. 

Chris looks at me with a daunting grin, his hand squeezing on the wheel as he nods. “A’right—ready. Sorry for the hold up.” 

Beck rolls her eyes, holding up the flag once more. 

“Racers ready?” she glares at Chris, continuing on as he revs his engine in response, “3—2—-1, GO—”

My heart drops as I watch the smoke from the tires scratching the street float around Beck. She saunters over, settling beside me as I lean forward, my pulse pounding in my ears as I watch them race side-by-side. 

As the car rounds the corner and starts nearing the finish line, Chris’s car zooms just slightly in front of the other vehicle, only seconds of a difference. 

I can’t wait to call him a fuckin loser. 

Beck walks back out, the flag raising in the air as both cars position once again. “Alright, race two. Ready, set—” 

“Hey!” 

Stomping her heels on the pavement, Beck scowls at Chris as he shouts towards my direction. I look over, my face burning as I feel the crowd stare down at me. 

I didn’t know much about racing, but I knew enough. This wasn’t normal—this was the prime way to piss people off. 

As I go to ask what he wants, Chris curls his finger, motioning for me to come closer. 

The fuck? 

I hesitantly stand up, my arms wrapped tightly around my torso as I walk up to his car window. Chris stares up at me with devious eyes. He obnoxiously chews a piece of gum, his jaw bone protruding with each movement. 

“What the fuck do you want?!” I whisper-yell, catching angry eyes boring onto me as I take a quick glance over my shoulder. 

Oh, these people are mad—fucking furious, even. 

“Kiss me.” 

I do a double take, my eyes blinky slowly as I watch him lick over the bottom ridges of his teeth, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. 

“What?” I breathe out, a dry laugh heaving from my lips. 

He can’t be serious…

“However long you kiss me is however long I’ll wait to start drivin’. Didn’t you want me to lose? C’mon pretty girl, you saw the bet table—use your head, alright? It’s just a kiss,” he taunts.

This is how he was gonna give me the chance to make him lose a round—I should’ve known. 

I shake my head, cringing as I hear the boo’s from the crowd get louder. 

“I’m startin’,” Beck says, holding up the flag. “3—”

“Yes or no? It’s up to you,” he shrugs, his eyes drawing over my face as my lips smack open and shut. 

“2—”

The noise of his engine revving makes my anxiety settle. This is my chance—my only chance at that. 

“Fuck it,” I murmur, taking a long stride towards him. 

“1—GO!” 

I crash my lips onto his, my hands on either side of his jaw. His lips meet mine with a hard urgency, the rhythm of my movement panicked and rushed. 

My breath hitches in my chest—I don’t know if it’s because I forgot to breathe or if it’s from the feeling of his hand traveling up and tangling around the back of my neck, pulling me impossibly closer as he slips his warm tongue into my mouth. 

I nearly forget everything, gasping for air as I pull back quickly, moaning as I feel his mouth hungrily chase mine. 

Never in my life had I been kissed like this—so passionately and rough. 

“Hey! This gotta be breakin’ some rules–”

Fuck. 

The person yelling from the crow makes me pull back into reality. I stand up, watching as Chris slowly flutters his eyes open at me with a grin so cocky my hand twitches with the urge to slap him. 

Why did that feel so… good? 

Before anyone can say a thing, the other car slowly halts back to the starting line. 

Had we really been kissing that long? 

My fingers mindlessly float up to my tingling lips, my head feeling lighter as the surroundings start to spin a bit. It’s like he put some drug in his mouth that immediately became addicting. I want more. 

“See? I kept my word,” Chris points out, “Now—you gonna keep your word if I win? Lemme take you for a drive?” I swallow thickly, nodding slowly. “Good. Now go sit down and cheer for me real loud, alright?” 

I don’t have time to respond before Beck interrupts with the same question, starting to count down. I quickly stumble back towards the bleachers, a sigh of relief pushing through my lips as my head bobbles between my shoulders while I sit down. 

The loud cars barely register in my brain. All I can focus on is how light everything feels, how my lips are swollen and pulsing. 

“C’MON!!!” 

Chants behind me draw my attention back to the road. What the fuck? It’s not even close—Chris is speeding around the corners way smoother than the first round, almost as if he had been—

Oh fuck.

He was holding back. 

I tried to mess with him and he played me with ease. 

Part of me should be mad as he races near the finish line—but all I feel is excitement—anticipation. 

My teeth clench into my lower lip as I watch him storm past the line, not even waiting for the other racer to finish before stepping out of his car and walking over. 

Is he…?

My eyes bulge as he walks in front of me, holding his hand out as an offer. “C’mon, you promised, yeah?” he urges. 

I nod slowly, sliding my hand in his. He drags me to his car, opening the passenger door and shutting it after I climb in. 

“Chris! The money—”

Beck’s words fall on deaf ears as Chris slides into the driver seat, pressing his foot on the gas hard. 

“You didn’t even get the money—what’re we doing?” I ask, looking behind my shoulder to see a crowd of people turned to our direction as we speed off further down the road. 

“You know, it’s not nice to try and tick me off,” he huffs, quickly glancing at me with a harsh stare. 

Oh.

Oh.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ abou–”

Chris lets out a vocal sound of disbelief, cutting me off, “Yeah, you do. Fuckin—bettin’ against me, tryna get me to lose and shit. For what? Don’t have a boyfriend to give you any attention, huh?” he asks, his hand reaching over and grasping onto my thigh. 

He knows I don’t have a boyfriend—I know he’s aware of that fact. 

I stare down at his large hand squeezing my jean-clad leg. Something about his rough grip makes me shift in my seat, my thighs clutching together as I feel a wave of warmth settle into the pit of my stomach. 

“You like my hand on your thigh, don’t you?” he says, smirking wider as I watch the blue streetlights cast a subtle glow on his cheekbones. 

“I—”

“You like it. Admit it.” 

There’s no room to argue as he trails his hand up further, his fingers tracing dangerously high as he gives me a rough squeeze. Fuck his hands feel good on me. 

“Chris what’re you—”

“Do you know how it feels to constantly see you and know I can’t touch you?” he starts, the car rolling to a stop by the side of the road as he rushedly shifts gears to park, “-you’re always fuckin’ teasin’ me—bein’ a damn brat and I have to keep my hands to myself,” he grits, shaking his head as he stares down at me. 

I swallow thickly as I shift in the seat. “Chris, I–”

“No. None of that bullshit. You’re always tauntin’ me. Why’d you stay, hm? Why?” he questions, his tongue clicking on the roof of his mouth as his eyes deepen with intensity and dominance. 

Silence. I can’t fathom any words to say, my pulse drumming quicker as Chris pats his lap, adjusting his chair back. 

“Over here. Now.” 

“Chris, what are we doing?” I ask, hesitantly starting to climb over the center console. 

His hands wrap around the underside of my thighs, pulling me quickly while I let out a slight yelp as he sits me down in his lap. His hands are firm on either side of my hips. “I’m done playin’ these stupid fuckin’ games. I just—” 

The air is quiet. His eyes fall to my lips, his hands grasping just a little bit tighter around me. I can still feel the lingering sensation from his lips on mine earlier, the slight tingle still buzzing on the soft muscle as I let myself lean in closer. 

“We should stop,” Chris breathes, his tongue sliding between his lips as his eyes flicker up towards mine. 

“Why?” 

The question rolls off my lips with ease, my palms flattening against his chest as I lower my mouth to his neck, breathing over his pulse. 

“Because–” He lets out a hiss. I place my lips on his neck, sucking gently as I massage my hand over his shoulder. “Shit—we gotta stop, baby—this, this–” His jaw goes slack as I find his sweet spot. His hands dig into my hips, the slight bulge growing beneath me making my lips curl into a smile as I gently grind myself on top of him. 

“Why do you wanna stop, Chris?” I ask, nibbling the bottom of his ear, “What’s got you so tongue-tied, hm?” 

“You’re killin’ me,” he points, his gaze trained on me as he tangles his hand through my hair, pulling me back just enough to look at him, “-fuckin’ so annoying, so pretty and horrible, I just—I don’t know how much I can hold back–”

“Don’t,” I whisper, my hand gathering the material of his shirt in a fist as I watch him bite on his lower lip. His eyes trace over my face, one of his hands slowly tracing underneath my shirt, callusing beneath my bra. 

“Yeah? Don’t want me to hold back, hm?” he remarks, his hips adjusting in the slightest, my mouth falling open as I feel him rut against me through the fabric of our clothes. 

Fuck. I can’t take this. 

I lean forward, crashing my lips against his once more. Chris hums into my mouth. He furiously helps me peel off the bulky letterman jacket, the cold air feeling like relief compared to my burning skin. 

“Holy fuck, slow down, baby,” he husks, his hands falling to my hips as I shameless grind myself against his hard bulge. But I can’t get enough. “-’m not going anywhere—gonna stay and make you feel so good. Promise.” 

My heart drops as I feel his hand delicately caress over the purple lace covering my breasts. His nimble fingers trace around my hardened nub, a slight moan falling through my lips as I feel him smirk against me. 

“Take those cute jeans off, c’mon. Be a good girl for me—just this once, alright?” he grins. 

I nod slowly, awkwardly shifting as I pull down the denim while kicking off my shoes. Chris gets impatient, yanking the clothing to his own accord before planting me back on his lap, his jacket now discarded. 

“Holy fuck, look at these legs—would look so good wrapped around me,” he whispers, brushing my hair to the side as his lips graze my neck, “-while I fuck you deep and hard.” 

Oh my god. 

My mind is numb, every inch of my skin pulsing with a hot sensation of greed. Chris stares at me with lust, his hand moving in the corner of my eye. “Want me to touch you? Right….here,” he breathes, the pad of his finger resting directly over my bundle of nerves. 

I nod slowly, looking at him with hooded eyes as he starts to slowly circle the digit with a light, feathery touch. 

“More,” I moan, pulling his shirt into my fists as I watch him smile at me. 

“Yeah? What do you want, hm? Want my big dick in you? Want me to stretch you out and make you cum over and ov—

“Please,” I whisper, my hips moving for me as I struggle to stay still. 

Chris looks down, gesturing for me to take control. I hesitantly fumble with his jeans, pulling out his hard length as my mouth starts to water. 

Fuck. He’s big. No—he’s huge. 

As I go to pull my underwear to the side, Chris stops me, placing his hand around my wrist. 

“Uh-uh,” he tuts, “-take ‘em all the way off—wanna see all of you when I fuck your guts.” 

My thighs tense from his words, my hands quickly sliding the fabric down my thighs and discarding them without a single care. Chris pets over the top of my thighs, his eyes hungrily staring down between my legs. “Fuck—are you sure you want this? I…god, I can’t believe this is happening…”

I grab his hardness in my hand, spitting and dragging the lubricant up and down his shaft. Chris grits his teeth. His hands pinching into my sides as he lets out a deep groan. “You’re so big,” I whisper, mostly talking to myself. 

My eyes bulge as I feel Chris lift me with his hands on either side of my waist, placing me so my dripping entrance is directly aligned with his tip. His eyes bore into mine with dark passion. His jaw tense as he leans forward, kissing along my neck. 

“You gonna take it all f’me?” he dares, massaging my sides but keeping me from sinking down onto him. 

“Chris, please–”

“Gotta promise to take it all, sweetheart. Been teasin’ me all day already, I don’t need anymore of that, alright? Just—just gotta promise to let me stuff you full,” he purrs, sucking on the sensitive part of my neck just below my ear. 

“I promise, just—mmphf—” He slowly loosens his grip, letting me lower myself. I feel his tip nudge past my entrance, the stretch of his size making my body tense as my legs tighten to a halt. 

“Thaatt’s it, doin’ so good, just—just relax,” he praises, brushing my hair behind my ear, “-gotta be a good girl and keep your word again, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” I stutter, slowly starting to take more of him. A broken cry falling through my lips as I feel my body stiffen again. 

Chris is patient. His eyes are trained on my face as his hands massage over my body. “You got it, c’mon—just—holy fuck,” his hand lingers down to my stomach, my top so messed up that it’s bunched over my breasts. He’s not just admiring the skin, he’s worshipping the bulge—the distinct imprint of him inside of me as I hover over the last bit of his length. 

“Look at that, sweetheart, I mean—fuck—” 

I shriek as I feel him lift his hips upward, burying himself inside of me completely. My hands grasp onto his shoulders, my eyes teary as I watch him bite on his lower lip. “God—such a good girl, takin’ me so good,” he compliments, slowly helping me as I start to ride him. 

I feel him reach deep inside of me, my eyes staring up at the ceiling of the car while my body tenses with a wave of pleasure collapsing over every beating pulse of my skin. This is even better than that damn kiss. I’ve never felt like this before. Not ever. It’s like an adrenaline rush, so overbearingly good that it feels addicting.  

“How’s that, baby, hm?” he hums, smiling down at the sight of his length plunging into my guts with each thrust as my movements quicken. 

“I–it’s, I—” 

What the fuck was I saying? 

Everything feels so light, so impossible. 

“That’s it, fuckkkkk—look so good ridin’ me like this, keep—-shit!” he seethes. My walls tighten around him, my nails digging into his shoulder through his shirt as he lifts his hips to meet my movements.

His lips parted with pure ecstasy. 

“Fuck, fuck, I,” My words are cut off my a moan. 

Chris laughs dryly, his grip becoming tighten as he really puts in the work—using me like a ragdoll as he furiously fucks himself into me. “Mmmm, th-ere,” he rasps, smiling as I let out small shrieks and moans between each snap of his hips. 

He’s so deep. I’d never felt this good in my life. There’s a buzzing in my ears, spots in my vision as I feel my body ruthlessly convulse with the overwhelming sensations. 

How the fuck is he so deep?

How the hell is he hitting against the perfect spot over and over and over—

“You cumming already?” 

His question pulls me back to reality. I nod dumbly, my mouth drawing open as I let out a long moan, my thighs quivering as I rock myself against his movement. 

“Oh—I—”

“My name, sweetheart, wanna hear my–my name, c’mon,” he urges, the squelches getting louder as I feel my body burn with euphoria. 

“Chris, Chris, I–I—my god,” I cry out, my hips slowly rolling to a stop as I feel him pause his motions. 

I don’t have time to react—nor to recover. I feel Chris hold me tightly, flipping me over so my back hits the seat—his cock brutal as he drills himself inside of me. 

“Take it, fuckin—fuckin’ take it,” he chants. 

My hands scramble into his hair. I pull his face into my neck, letting my teeth sink into his shoulder. Every rut of his hips leaves me breathless, my body seizing as I feel his hardness drive into me over and over again while his pelvis slaps against my clit. 

“I’m gonn—”

“Wait. Wait for me, I’m—’m so close, baby, so fuckin’ close—”

I clench around him, the buildup becoming too much as he continues to drown every inch of my body with pleasure. His desperate tone lingers in the air, his breaths shaking as his hips lose slight momentum. 

“Wher–-where do you—”

“In-inside, please, just—just let me cum,” I plea. 

Chris huffs, his thrusts becoming erratic and somehow deeper. “Cu-cum with me, I—shittttttttt, so fuckin’ good, so… so fuckin’ good,” he seethes, a warm sensation flooding inside of me as I feel my body convulse once more. 

My limbs fall lifelessly. Our motions fall lazier, eventually pausing to a halt. Chris gently removes himself, pulling me into his arms tightly and positioning back into the seat with me on his lap. 

His hand finds the back of my head as I lean onto his shoulder, petting through my hair as we both try to catch our breath. 

“Holy shit,” he whispers. I let out a light laugh, flinching as I feel my stomach burn from soreness. “You good there?” he asks. 

Nodding into the crook of his neck, I lift myself to stare at him once more. My eyes trace from his sweat ridden face, seeing a clear imprint of his hand on the fogged-up car window. My nose crinkles as I inhale deeply. “It smells like sex, I’m sorry,” I let out. 

Chris stares at me incredulously. “Sorry? That was fuckin’ perfect—better than the money if you ask me. I mean… I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself anymore,” he teases, flashing me a grin as he combs my hair behind my ear. 

My lips curl with excitement. “Oh really? You like takin’ me for rides?” 

He nods firmly, biting on his lower lip. “Mhm. And you seemed to really like ridin’.” 

I let out a light laugh, shrugging my shoulders before ruffling his hair playfully. “Only with you.”

Chris cocks an eyebrow at me, “Only me, huh?” I nod shyly, letting out a brief hum. His eyes linger on mine before falling back to my lips. “You do ride good. Maybe you should be the racer,” he taunts. 

“Maybe,” I whisper, “-maybe…” 

“Let’s get you back in those cute jeans though, yeah?” 

[goldsbitch]

Home is where Dad's car is

One of Lando's twins dramatically announces she's running away from home. This turns his afternoon into a Monaco rescue mission.

this is inspired by a comment from @ynbutbetter on the Blink Once story and me completely misreading it

warning: none, domestic, light-hearted stand alone part of Norris Family Polaroids

Jumping back into work again has been a relief and burden at the same time. The ten-year-old twins are relentless and Y/N, with all the help she had due to Lando's comfortable financial situation, wanted to be part of both motherhood and career as much as she could.

She's received a lot of strange emails in her life. This one is about to rule them all.

From: Olivia Norris To: Mom & Dad CC: (no one, because traitors exist)

Subject: I Am Leaving. Do Not Try to Stop Me.

Dear Mother and Father,

by the time you read this, I will be gone. Away forevr. Please do not be sad (I know this will be difficult).

I have thought long and hard about this decision—at least ten whole minutes—and I have realized that I can no longer stay. I love you both (most of the time but Dad you really made me sad this time) but I have to follow my own path now

Do not try to find me.

Tell Maya that she is now the oldest child. This is a great responsibility. I hope she is ready.

Stay strong in my absence. -Olivia

Speed dial - Lando - and then two times more, since the Husband of the Year can't seem to pick up his phone. A text pops up after Lando reclines the call.

We're streaming, is it urgent?

Y/N knows this automatic message all too damn well. No matter how many years him and Max F. managed to pile up, streaming video games time stayed like a sacred constant. It's great when the husband has a hobby. It's not so great when it ends up in him losing one of the kids in the meantime.

She texts him back. Headache. That's what being a mother of two kids and married to an overgrown child is on a typical Wednesday afternoon is.

//

Lando is having a great time. Snack in front of him, controller in hand, headset on—he's in his zone. He's been carrying Max Fewtrell through a game for the past hour, and despite his teammate's absolute lack of skill, it's been a solid session. A nice off season afternoon.

"Bro, you're literally throwing," Max groans through the headset as his in-game character spectacularly fails to complete a simple task.

Lando snickers, eyes glued to the screen. "Nah, mate, you're just bad. Hold on, I gotta—oh, for f—" His phone vibrates on the table, lighting up with Y/N’s name.

He glances at it, sees the call, and immediately ignores it. Another call. Decline.

Third time. Decline again.

He hits the automatic reply. Y/N's reply is instant. CHECK YOUR EMAIL NOW

Lando frowns. What could possibly be so urgent that it requires an email check? His brain cycles through possibilities:

-Y/N booked them another family trip he forgot about. -She ordered something expensive and wants to justify it. -The school sent one of those "Just letting you know" emails about how the twins "express themselves too boldly" (which, in Lando’s opinion, is code for being just like him).

Still, an email? Seems excessive. Whatever. He'll check it.

"Oi, Max, gimme a sec," Lando muttera and opens his inbox app. He scrolls past junk mail, a McLaren PR update, some random sponsorship inquiry—ah, there.

Subject: I Am Leaving. Do Not Try to Stop Me.

Lando snorts. Classic Olivia. Then he reads the first line.

By the time you read this, I will be gone. Away forevr.

…Okay. He keeps reading. His eyebrows start to furrow.

I love you both (most of the time, but Dad, you really made me sad this time), but I have to follow my own path now

His stomach drops.

Wait. What?

Do not try to find me.

Lando launches forward in his chair, suddenly wide awake. Is this for real? He just saw her few minutes ago in their bedroom. Well, might have been like an hour at this point.

Panic is setting rent free in his brain. "Oi, Max—stream's over," he blurts out, shutting the game down.

"Huh? What? We're in the middle of a match!" is the last he hears of him. Lando kills the stream without another word. Email...His daughter has reached the point of sending him emails now. Parenting, it never stops surprising him. His hands fly over his phone as he immediately calls Y/N. She picks up before the first ring even finishes.

"Lando," she says, already exasperated.

"Remember when I said the girls are too young for emails?" he starts, trying to wrap his head around this.

"Lando, they need one for school, this is not up for discussion. But don't get sidetracked - any clue where she is right now?"

He's already on his way to the kids bedroom, wishing they'd bought a smaller apartment. "I'm checking now," he blurts out, trying to keep as much of his anxiety locked in. It's fine, probably nothing.

"I though you brought them home directly after school?" his wife asks and Lando is grateful that there is not a single drop of blame directed towards him. Team players. It was part of their vows and one of the most important aspects of their relationship.

"I did, we just made a quick stop at the mall to get some sweets and then we were off. No spoiling!" he retortes before Y/N has a chance to go on her usual don't-buy-them-things-just-because-they-ask rant. The fact that his wife does not laugh or comment suggests she's had enough time to bury herself in doubts about Olivia already.

Finally, he's at the girl's door, which eerily half-open. A rare instance since the time the twins managed to win over the right to owning a key to their own bedroom few months ago.

He steps in, carefully, phone still at his ear. "Maya?" The objectively calmer and less hot-headed daughter is sitting on her bed, unbothered and uninterested.

"What?" she replies without looking away from her game. It makes Lando bit infuriated, but he knows he's hardly the one to say anything about this topic.

"Maya, where is your sister?" he asks, loudly enough so that Y/N can also hear him.

Not even a glance. "Dunno."

Lando stares at her. "What do you mean, dunno?"

"She said she was running away." Tap, tap, swipe. Maya shrugs. "So I let her."

"You LET HER?!"

Maya finally looks up, confused and surprised by the change of tone. "Yeah? She was being dramatic. Again."

Lando runs fingers through his hair. "Maya, you’re supposed to STOP her from doing stuff like this!"

Maya shrugs. "She was really committed. Packed a bag and everything."

Lando’s brain short-circuits. His ten-year-old daughter ran away. And he didn’t even notice. He hears Y/N sigh heavily over the phone. "I’ll start calling around. You start looking for our child."

Lando, still in mild shock: "Right. Yes. Good plan."

First, he searches the whole apartment, every cabinet, every spot he remembers the kids using during their plays of hide and seek. He's not sure whether he's more mad at Liv, for bolting, or at Maya for being so chill about it. After few minutes, it's obvious, Olivia is not home. He calls the concierge. Nothing. How could they possibly miss a child strolling around with packed bag?

He retraces their steps back. Pick up at the school—short ride over to the small mall—they stopped at a bakery, looked in few shop windows, Lando had them give their opinions on few bracelet designs (The plan is to get everyone in the family one with a different stone color. It's a surprise for Y/N and the girls know it. A family gift, so technically not spoiling anyone.)—then they got home and Lando started streaming. What exactly made Liv run away? Flash of guilt washes him over. Did he say something mean? Maybe he should have called off the stream today. Is he being a bad father? Well, he is, he figures. His child ran away and sent an email specifically mentioning his name. Oh, god. Suddenly, he's regretting being the one to shut down the idea of having their kid's location on at all times. At the time, he argued since they're in Monaco, there wasn't a big probability of anything bad happening to them. Everyone knows everyone. He forgot to count in the fact his kids might one day have a mind of their own. He just wanted to give them some form of freedom.

Lando grabs his phone and starts scrolling through his contacts, heart pounding. Okay. Where would Olivia go? Who enables her nonsense? Who has snacks?

Who would let her rant dramatically without asking too many questions? He dials the first name that makes sense.

Max Verstappen pick up immediately. "Nope, she's not here, Y/N already called. Nice one though, how can you lose a child that loud?" Lando groans, this being the second time he's been beaten by one his family members today. "I didn't lose her, she left."

"Ah, so you’ve been out-parented by a ten-year-old?" he comments, like it's no big deal at all.

"Thanks Max, helpful as always. Let me know if you see her."

"Of course." Lando hangs up immediately.

He hopes he's the first one to call Oscar.

"Hey, Lando. What's up?" he's welcomed with moderately disinterested tone.

"Have you seen Olivia?" Lando blurts out, fighting the passage of time.

"Um. No? Not lately? Should I have?"

He figures that if she's been sitting on his couch right now, Oscar would probably not even notice. "Nah...She sort of ran away few minutes ago. She can't be far, but like..."

"Yeah, that's not good."

Lando thinks about finding new friends. "Excellent observation. Well, let me know if she shows up at your doorstep."

"Will do. Check the school? Maybe she went back?"

If Lando knows one thing, it's that wherever his daughter, his carbon copy, is, it's not back at school.

"Thanks. Once she shows up, I’m grounding her forever."

"Might not be the best way to convince her to come home, mate."

Lando hangs up after the unsolicited advice. He's getting desperate, so he starts dialing random people who are in Monaco. Carlos - does not pick up. His usual contacts end up being either completely useless or actively making the situation worse.

At this point, he's calling anyone in Monaco who might have even the slightest clue where Olivia could be.

And then - a message. Text from Carlos. Mate, drop everything and come by.

Eyes still glued to the text, his brain short-circuiting over Carlos’ cryptic message, and then the phone rings again. Y/N. He barely has time to process before he picks up.

"Tell me you found her." No greeting, no buildup—just straight to business. Lando rubs a hand down his face. "No. But Carlos just texted me. Told me to come over."

A pause. Then, suspicion. "Why?" "I don’t know." Lando waves a hand at the message like she can see it. "He just said ‘it's important.’"

There’s a beat of silence. He can practically hear Y/N narrowing her eyes. "That’s weird," she mutters. "I just called the school again—nothing. Also checked a few cafés, just in case."

Lando starts pacing the living room, running through possibilities. "And?"

"Guess twice." He hears her sigh. "She's not at her friends' houses either. At this point, unless she's living in the canals like some kind of feral child, I have no idea where she'd go."

Lando groans, dragging a hand through his hair. "I'm going to Carlos'."

Another pause. Then, firmly: "Okay. But if Carlos doesn't have her, we're calling the police. What if...." She does not dare to finish the thought and it's just then when Lando starts properly getting worried. Many crazy people are obsessed with him and in extension, his family. He does not dare to even imagine what could happen.

Lando exhales. "Yeah. Agreed." They hang up.

He stares at his phone for half a second longer, then grabs his keys and rushes for the door.

//

He's putting his shoes on when Maya's voice cut through the hallways, her tone all shy and contrasting her previous sassy responses. "Is she going to be alright?" Lando turns around to see the image of pure innocence, worried little ten-year-old, who looks a little too small for this world. A smile forms on his face, even though it does not match his current mood at all.

"Come here, honey," he gestures and waits for Maya to run over to his embrace. She hugs his legs and in return, he pats her head. "Of course. We will find her and it will all be fine."

"I'm sorry I let her go..." she apologizes and Lando is surprised that there are no tears in her eyes, given the sorrow expressed in her voice.

"I'm happy you're saying that," he replies, grateful to be spared of one parent lecture today. "Do you have any idea where she might be?" He searches for any hint of a clue in her face, but it's all blank as she shakes he head.

"She said she's going home. And then left."

Even though this does not help him at all, he nods understandingly, slowly letting go of Maya and reaching for his jacket. "And do you know why?" Guilt must be written all over his face. He had been too reckless, too focused on other things and neglecting his kids.

Maya's soft voice provides an answer, that opens up more questions. "She was upset about the bracelet. Said it was too much."

This stops his actions. "What?" Lando frowns, trying to wrap his head around whether his daughter entering some sort of preteen leftist phase. Aren't kids suppose to like things? Maya simply shrugs her shoulders, her face mimicking her father's. "You know how she is sometimes..."

Yes, he knows. Stubborn, hot-headed and in a world of her own. Once again, like a sarcastic mirror he has to look at everyday, to get reminded of his own mishaps. Maya, the somewhat more innocent, less conniving one, stares at him, as if he has all the answers. He just grabs his keys, reassures her once more and orders her to protect the house. It's an old trick that still seems to be working on her. It's clear though his kids are growing up faster and faster. More complex tactics will be needed. In order to prevent future runaway moments.

//

He's making sure to scan every street he passes by on the way to his ex-teammate's house. It would make sense for Olivia to be at his place, since out of all their family friends, Carlos lives the closest. And, Maya mentioned she's going home. So, unless she's on her way all the way back to visit grandma in England, this seems like the next best thing.

Lando is on edge and the elevator is being annoyingly slow. His daughter is missing, his brain is on fire, and he has exactly zero leads.

And yet—Carlos Sainz opens the door like Lando just showed up for a casual chat session.

"Finally," Carlos says, grabbing Lando by the sleeve and pulling him inside without a single question. "I need your help with something."

Lando blinks. "Carlos, what—"

Carlos does not wait. He marches toward the kitchen, muttering to himself while swiping through something on his phone.

"This is serious. I've been trying to decide this all morning," Carlos continues, completely unaware of Lando's rapidly declining mental state. "I need an outside perspective."

Lando follows, confused, frustrated, and five seconds away from yelling. "Carlos, I don't have time—"

Carlos spins around dramatically. "Should I grow a beard?"

Lando stares. "What?" Carlos gestures at his own face. "A beard. Do I grow one? Or will it look stupid?"

Lando rubs a hand down his face. "Carlos, I do not have time for this right now—" "But it's an important decision!" Carlos argues, like his life depends on it. "A beard changes a man, Lando. I need to know before I commit! I've been craving some change lately and this seems like a good step.“

Lando lets out a deep, slow breath. "Carlos." He almost makes it sound like a threat.  Carlos finally notices something is off. His brow furrows. "What's wrong with you?" "My child ran away,“ Lando deadpans and crosses his arms. 

Carlos blinks. "Oh."

There’s a pause. Then, his eyes widen. "Oh!"

"Yes!" Lando gestures wildly. "That’s why I’m here! I thought maybe she came to you—" Carlos gasps, like he’s just uncovered a great conspiracy.

"She’s on a boat."

"...What?" Carlos nods, suddenly deep in thought. "Sí. It makes sense." Lando shakes his head. "No. It does not."

Carlos, ignoring him entirely: "When I was a small child, I often ran away when I was unhappy with my parents. I would go to the sea. The sea is mysterious. The sea is freedom. And Olivia knows that, I remember telling her.“ Lando pinches the bridge of his nose. Why, pray tell, would his friends instruct his children to ran away from home. "Well, thank you for that. Carlos, the sea is also full of very real dangers." Carlos waves him off. "Oh wait no - it was Maya," he says, like that solves the problem. "So, never mind."

"You do realize the girls talk to each other, constantly sharing bad ideas, right?" Lando snaps, unable to comprehend how quickly his calm afternoon had turned so sour. "Please, refrain from giving them bad ideas from now on, thank you." "Ay, cabron, come on. She’s just probably sitting on a yacht somewhere. You know how many boats there are in Monaco?"

Lando does, unfortunately, know. Too many. Way too many.

Carlos is nodding to himself now, fully convinced. "Come on. We go to the harbor, check a few docks. Maybe yell her name a few times—"

"I am not yelling my daughter’s name across Monaco like a lunatic—"

Carlos grins. "I will do it."

Lando groans. "We are not going to the harbor." Carlos tilts his head. "You sure? Because I think—" Lando’s phone buzzes, saving him from this tragedy of a conversation. He glances at the screen. His manager. Since he does not have a time for a lecture on not missing meetings just because they're on Zoom–just like he is missing one right now–he hits decline and puts this on future Lando to deal with.

Then—a text.

Lando. We found your daughter.

He freezes. Carlos immediately notices. "What? What happened?" Lando, staring at his phone in disbelief, exhales sharply. "They found her." Carlos claps his hands together, triumphant. "On a boat!" Lando glares. "Not on a boat!" Carlos snaps his fingers, looking genuinely disappointed. "Damn. That would’ve been so good."

Lando ignores him, already texting Y/N. Because wherever Olivia is, she’s about to get the lecture of a lifetime.

And if Carlos mentions boats one more time, Lando is never speaking to him again. One intrusive thought enters his brain before he gets to dialing his manager. A beard–there is probably nothing worse Carlos could do to destroy his look so quickly and efficiently. Lando turns towards him. "I think a beard is an excellent idea. You should do it," he says, pretending to take this seriously. A small revenge for his best friend feeding his kids ideas about running away from home. A wide smile grows on the Spaniard's face and he squeezes Lando's shoulder. "Knew it. Thanks, mate!" Lando nods a little too enthusiastically.

//

Home is where the heart is. Some say home is where your story begins. Others say it’s not a place, but a person. For Olivia Norris apparently, for her, it's a place where they sell luxury cars, keep a an endless stock of hoodies with her father's name and probably walk around her on eggshells. Because while most kids would run away to a friend’s house or a secret fort in the woods, Lando's child—his stubborn, dramatic, terrifyingly smart child—ran away to the McLaren showroom.

And honestly? He would have never seen that coming.

He's used to people rushing to take selfies with him whenever he's on the main streets of Monaco, so it's not much of a surprise that when he parks in front of the McLaren showroom, he's circled by enthusiastic fans immediately. Honestly, right now, when he's searching for his runaway child, having visual proof of this afternoon is the last thing he needs. Sadly, he understands that making a scene and refusing would bring even more attention online. Five photos later, he finally gets to enter inside.

It's not like Lando goes around to roam around McLaren stores on his free days, unless PR obligations order him too. His presence would raise eyebrows and freeze employees even on a regular day, without his daughter taking a refuge there. It's obvious from the moment he steps in - all the staff members are on edge, holding their phones like weapons to use to call supervisors and doing a bad job at pretending everything is fine. He walks in and awkwardly waits for the frontman to approach him.

"Mr. Norris," he speaks, barely hiding his nervousness. "I believe you'd want to speak to the manager?" Lando just nods and gives him one angry smile. If there is one thing he's not in the mood for, it's speaking in corporate codes.

"Sure," he says and swiftly walks away.

The front desk employee looks like he’s preparing for battle. Lando watches as the poor guy takes a deep breath, straightens his shoulders, and puts on his best customer service smile before cautiously approaching. "Mr. Norris," the man greets, voice a little too high-pitched. Lando tilts his head. "Let me guess," he says, folding his arms. "You have a small, dramatic, ten-year-old hiding somewhere in here?" The employee lets out a nervous chuckle. "Well… we wouldn't say hiding, exactly."

Lando raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"She, uh…" The man glances at his coworkers for support, but they all pretend to be very busy. He clears his throat. "She told us she works here now. Said that Zak Brown himself approved it.“

Lando closes his eyes for a moment. Has this person never talked to a lying child before? 

Of course she did.

"And you… just let her?"

The employee start looking scared. "Um, well, we were not sure how to proceed. She was very convincing."

Lando pinches the bridge of his nose. "Where is she?"

The man gestures toward the back of the store, where the more exclusive merch is displayed. "She, uh… had us set up a 'desk.'" This is a new level, even for her. "She what?" The employee nods gravely. "Sir, she brought a clipboard." That actually stuns him into silence for a second. Then, before he can even process it, he hears it—

A tiny but authoritative voice from behind the display racks. "Excuse me, sir! Can I interest you in our new McLaren papaya collection?" Lando whips his head around. And there, seated behind a neatly arranged stack of McLaren hoodies, holding a clipboard and looking entirely unbothered…

Is Olivia.

His runaway daughter.

His child.

He watches her talking to a grown man, ignoring his minor confusion and doing what could be only described as skillfully pitching this specific line of merch. No shame or hesitance. Just as she almost has this man trying on a bright orange hoodie, Lando decides to step in and intervene. 

"This shade of papaya," she says smoothly, flipping a page on her clipboard for dramatic effect, "It is the best color, because it’s the brightest one. It will make you stand out like no one else."

The man, who clearly only came in for a casual browse, now looks deeply invested. He nods thoughtfully, holding the hoodie up to his chest. "You think it suits me?"

Olivia tilts her head, analyzing him like she’s Zak Brown finalizing a sponsorship deal. "Absolutely. You give off McLaren energy." The man looks genuinely touched. And that is when Lando decides enough is enough. "Olivia Norris," he calls out, voice firm, authoritative, and 100% Dad Mode. His daughter freezes mid-sale. Her eyes go wide. The poor customer looks between them, clearly confused. A second later, he’s got the star-struck face on, probably finally recognizing Lando, who steps forward, hands on his hips. Glances apologetically at the man and gives his full attention to his daughter. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"

Olivia plasters on a casual smile, like she wasn't just caught selling merch to a stranger in an attempt to start a new life.

"Uh, working?" she tries, tucking the clipboard against her chest like that makes it official.

Lando raises an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

She nods, fully committing. "Mhm. First day on the job. Big things happening for me." "Liv,“ he speaks a warning, the fact they’re out in public with interested witnesses working in her favor.  She holds up a finger, turning back to the man. "One second, sir, my old manager's here." Lando nearly chokes. "I'm your father." "Same thing," she shrugs. Lando blinks at her. Then, at the clipboard. Then, back at her. "Pack it up," he says, gesturing toward the exit. "Your shift is over." Olivia sighs dramatically. "Does this mean I don’t get paid?"

"Olivia."

"Fine," she huffs, setting the clipboard down like this is a tragic career-ending moment. Lando turns to the man, who still looks entirely too amused. "Sorry about that," he sighs. The man chuckles. "No worries. She’s good." He pauses, then holds up the hoodie. "I am gonna buy this, though." Lando groans. Of course she made a sale. As Olivia grins proudly, clearly aware she's the winner this afternoon, Lando grabs her by the shoulders and steers her toward the door, preparing for the conversation of a lifetime. He waves apologetically at the store employees, who are all trying very hard to pretend like they're not watching them.

They walk out from the store, calmly and collected. He's carrying the bag she must have packed and questions her planning skills, as the bag seems to be full of dresses and random selection of snacks. After all, even with the stunt he's just seen, ultimately. he is grateful that authorities didn't need to get involved in this. He guides Olivia to his car, opens the door and makes sure she’s locked in before he starts the car. 

He’s driving home smoothly, monitoring her face in all the mirrors available. Dark sunglasses she put on probably to prove a point hide her eyes, but the body language betrays her. She's upset and while he does share her emotion and has to fight his urge to start his lecture about safety, fans and most importantly, not running away from home, he decides to do the adult thing and sets his goal on figuring out the cause of this all. 

"So. Running away from home, huh?" he asks and tries to keep his tone as casual as possible. No reaction. Fine. "Your mom and I were really worried. Maya too, by the way," he tries to play it on the more emotional side. It's only when he mentions Maya, that Olivia shifts uncomfortably. Lando notices the slight movement immediately. A tiny shrug in her shoulders, like the weight of what she did is finally sinking in.

Good. She should feel a little guilty.

Still, she says nothing, arms crossed tightly over her chest, the ridiculous slightly oversized sunglasses making her look far too dramatic for a ten-year-old.

Lando sighs, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.

"She thought you might be gone forever, you know," he adds, throwing a quick glance at Olivia through the rearview mirror. "She even got promoted to ‘oldest child.’ Big responsibility."

That gets him something—a twitch at the corner of her mouth. He presses on. "And I don't know if you realize this," he continues, keeping his voice light yet firm, "but your ‘home’ today was a McLaren store. Not even the factory, Liv. A store."

Olivia adjusts her sunglasses like a celebrity avoiding paparazzi. "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

Lando raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

She shrugs. "Well. You always say that McLaren is your home. And if it's yours, why could it not be mine?“ 

Lando’s heart sinks and he’s not sure whether he's proud to know Olivia listens to what he says or if he's terrified of the strange, most likely unhealthy, relationship his kid is developing towards a global corporation. "I do say that, you're right. But there is a difference between a job and a home. It’s a...Different kind of home,"  he says it and wonders if anyone had ever told him that when he was young. 

Olivia seems to be deeply in her own thoughts. "I'm sure some of the employees would take me in."

Lando scoffs. "Oh, well, in that case—fantastic life decision."

A small huff. "Better than where I was gonna go."

Lando narrows his eyes. "And where exactly was that?"

Silence. If she says "a boat", Lando's going to convince Carlos to also shave his hair off. He waits, watching her in the mirror, not pushing—just letting the silence do the work. And after a few moments, Olivia finally caves, shifting in her seat.

Surprisingly, she ignores his question entirely. "You and Mom were gonna put braces on me so you could tell me and Maya apart."

Lando almost swerves into the wrong lane. "Wait, what?!" He glances at her, then back at the road. "Braces?"

Olivia nods solemnly. "I heard you. In the store. You said it will be easier," she says, sounding genuinely disturbed. Then, her childlike anger builds up. "But, I don’t even have all my adult teeth in! It sounds dangerous, dad! Also - why would you and mom need them too? Do you realize everyone is going to laugh at our family?"

Lando stares straight ahead, completely dumbfounded. For a second, his brain refuses to process this level of nonsense.

Braces. BRACES?!

Of all the things she could've misheard, this is what led to her dramatic escape?

"Olivia." He exhales, shaking his head. "I said bracelets. I was getting us bracelets. Matching ones, with different colors, so that other people won’t mix you and Maya up so much, I know how you hate it."

There’s a beat of silence. Then, Olivia slowly lowers her sunglasses. "...Bracelets?"

"Bracelets," Lando confirms, dead serious.

More silence.

Then—a quiet, barely-there mutter:

"...Oh."

Lando lets out the loudest, most exhausted sigh of his life. "Oh?" he repeats, glancing at her in disbelief. "OH?! You ran away because of a bracelet misunderstanding?!"

Olivia slouches further into her seat. "I was not going to let that happen to me."

Lando pinches the bridge of his nose. "Liv. If you just asked—"

"You said not to tell mom!“ she interrupts, as if this is somehow his fault.

Lando groans. "That's not the point!"

"I panicked!"

"You panicked? So instead of clarifying, you packed a bag full of dresses and snacks and started a career in retail?!"

Olivia crosses her arms again, defensive. "It was a solid plan."

Lando lets out a short, incredulous laugh. "Liv, it was the worst plan."

She pouts. "It worked for a while."

Lando tilts his head. "Did it?"

"...No."

"Exactly."

A long pause.

Then, softly: "Maya really thought I was leaving forever?"

Lando nods. "Yeah. She acted all chill about it, but I could tell she was worried."

Olivia twists the hem of her hoodie, suddenly looking much smaller than before. "...I didn't mean to scare her."

Lando softens.

"I know," he says, glancing at her in the mirror again. "And I know you like being independent, but Liv—" He sighs. "You don’t need to run away over stuff like this. Just talk to me, okay?"

She nods slowly, still fiddling with her hoodie. "...Okay."

"And maybe next time, instead of running away, just... go to your room dramatically like a normal ten-year-old?"

Olivia snorts. "No promises." Lando chuckles, shaking his head.

This kid.

They pull into the driveway, and Olivia takes off her sunglasses, letting out a deep breath.

"Hey, Dad?" Lando raises an eyebrow. "Yeah?" She smirks. "Did you bring my clipboard?" Lando laughs, unlocking the car. "You're grounded."

//

"So, you're telling me Liv ran away because of no reason?" Y/N asks for the third time, as she sits across from her husband and two suspiciously quiet children.

Lando's got his PR smile on, it's clear as a day. When and how he managed to teach both of the girls the same is the real mystery. Y/N cut her day at work short to rush home. Even with the news of Olivia being back at home, she found it hard to focus on anything else. She expected to walk into a battlefield, at least one of the girls crying and flustered Lando. But no—one would never have even guessed anything strange had happened that day. They're all sitting there, like some sort of picturesque scene from a school issued guidance book.

"Mom," Olivia speaks up slowly, accidentally looking at Y/N like she is stupid for repeating the question. "It was a bad decision on my part. I accept being grounded for a week. We will be able to explain everything in few weeks," Olivia says confidently at first, but still turns towards her father, as if for confirmation she said all the right words. It's hard to believe a single word she says. Still, he gives her a small, but proud, nod.

"We have a surprise for you and if we tell you everything, it will be ruined!" Maya's comment is cheerfully enthusiastic, like she's telling Y/N the best thing that has ever happened.

Without a clue on what to say, Y/N turns to Lando for any hint of answers. He looks at her like he's some divine angel. "It's a funny story, but we can't tell you now."

Y/N hands fly up at the weird logic of this all. "What?"

"Patience, love. It's a virtue," Lando says simply and it's clear none of them are going to spill anything about today.

Maya follows the lead with a comment dripping with excitement. "Yes, mom. Patience!"

Y/N exhales sharply, dragging a hand down her face. She stares at the three of them—her clearly rehearsed, suspiciously well-behaved family—then lets out a dry laugh.

"You know what?" she says, standing up. "Fine. But when this ‘surprise’ inevitably turns into another disaster, I am not the one handling it."

She grabs her bag and heads toward the kitchen, muttering under her breath.

Behind her, Lando leans closer to his kids and ruffles both their hair. "That went well. Good job, she's going to love the bracelets."

Olivia, smirking proudly, follow his lead. "Told you we could sell it. I have experience now."

[inactiveaccount-lovendeepsecrets]

Domestic + Intimate Headcanons

*Minus Caleb only because his myth and cards aren't out yet, and I don't feel confident adding him when there's so much lore and little quirks we still don't know about him. I shall make a separate post for him if this goes well.

But Hi! This is my 1st hc so please go easy on me. I believe some of the bullet points on here are canon, but I can’t help talking abt how cute this all is 🫠 I'm not the best writer and I tried so hard to be impartial, but you can probably still tell where my bias lies LOL

As always these are just my opinions!!

tags: headcanon, fluff, mostly gender neutral, but these lean towards an afab + fem!reader, 18+

***MDNI; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something nsfw despite the warnings and will be BLOCKED***

Disclaimer: I personally think all of them like praise, body worship and are humungous eaters. If the specifications aren't noted under your fav LI, it's because I didn't want this too become too redundant!

✵ ✰ ✷ ✭✮ ���� 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ ❅ ❆ ❃ 𓆰· 𓆃

Rafayel

SFW

• Has definitely set up a date where you do that TikTok trend painting portraits of each other

• Hates the caricature you two posed for at the amusement park

• On more than one occasion you've (jokingly) threatened to frame said caricature at his gallery to shut him up during an argument

• Is an escape artist. He has a long history of being captured/on the run. It’s no wonder he could easily untie himself from your ropes

• I don't think we talk enough about how rich this man is, but I think he'd be quite into second hand fashion. Think runway archives, vintage designer pieces, custom couture, etc.

• Always drives over the speed limit

• Will never tease you during your art lessons with him

• THE best bf to take pictures of you for your social media accounts. He’d suggest different poses while contorting himself in odd positions on the ground just to get the perfect angle

• Sings you to sleep

• Surprisingly good at doing hair. If you need help dying, braiding, or putting your hair in rollers, he'd actually do a pretty good job.

• Created an entire album on his phone of candid photos he took when you weren't looking

• Also made a scrapbook of polaroids from all your scenic dates and vacations together, most of them are of you

NSFW

• He’s a mermaid. He is the motion of the ocean. The hip movements? Stamina? Best (and prettiest) dick game goes to him, I’m sorry.

• LOUD, noisy, and talkative. Starts to ramble when he’s close

• Wax play? [in the submissive]

• Nipple play [in the submissive]

• Edging + Milking

• I think his open vulnerability makes people think he’s more sub leaning, but some of it’s for show

• Because of your bond, he’ll submit; but he’ll do it in such a way that you’re right where he wants you to effectively make the switch

• Make no mistake, he doesn’t mind subbing from time to time. He loves seeing you on top of him, using his body. He feels a sense of accomplishment being a vessel for your pleasure

• There was a tweet that explained how Raf would be a bit of a bully as a dom, but in the best way (recommended read)

• Chuckles and coos at you after each of your orgasms

• Isn’t into watersports, but gets a massive ego boost if you squ*rt

• Is sometimes overly arrogant about toys, but is also so obsessed with you, that he made you get molds of each other on the rare occasions you’re apart for too long

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚

Sylus

SFW

• Has asked his private chef for a one on one culinary lesson to impress you with a home cooked meal

• A patron and secret lover of the arts. Dabbles in the opera, theatre and certain musicals

• He’s*slightly* better at drawing and singing than he lets on, but loves taking the piss

• This man is so funny, but his life and profession is all too serious, making the small moments of banter more precious for the both of you

• Will also hum to lull you to sleep

• Secret polyglot

• His way of ending petty arguments with you is by throwing you over his shoulder and going to bed

• Retail therapy connoisseur

• Surprisingly handy

• He of course, only likes visiting Linkon to see you, but also likes your apartment. While it’s microscopic in his eyes, he slowly understands what small things make a home feel cozy and tries to replicate that at his

• He’s intrigued by your self care sessions and will often indulge, joining in with the sheet masks, aromatherapy, massages and waxing (he likes the heat of the wax lol). He’ll put on a brave face and deny the pain, boasting about his high tolerance

• Spoils you in general, but especially when you’re sick or on your period

• Will carry you around just cause -much like a typical cat owner who loves to randomly pick up and cuddle their cat LOL

• Would buy out a restaurant for the night and have the orchestra play a medley of some of your favourite songs you’ve discovered from his record collection

• There’s really no such thing as small gestures with him

NSFW

• Marking

• Nipple play (giving and receiving)

• Blindfolds

• Certified munch; almost loves it more than penetrative sex

• AND HE 10000% HOLDS YOUR HANDS WHILE GOING DOWN ON YOU— WHY ISNT THIS WRITTEN MORE IN FICS

• Pleasure dom. He’s not sadistic or a bully when it comes to overstimulation (unlike Raf), he’s the very definition of “will talk you through it”

• Absolutely the type to coo at the sounds and faces you make. You could not look more adorable in his eyes

• Likes watching you solo

• Your satisfaction is his priority, so he’s not intimidated by toys. That being said, he definitely owns a remote vibrator

• Phone sex. No question

• In addition to phone sex, he bought those long distance bluetooth couple’s toys that sync up with each other so it’ll react to both of your movements in real time

• In the submissive, he really loves to see you in control of your own pleasure. He’ll encourage you to use him (eg face sitting, leg humping, cowgirl, etc)

• Slight masochist; those cuffs, paddles and chains are for him 😭 he’s curious to see how far you’ll go. By the end of it all, he’ll use his evol to free himself of whatever restraint he’s under

•As far as a degradation kink, I don’t see it for him, sorry. He adores you too much to call his sweetie a “slut”, “whore”, “filthy,” and so on

• Not as rough as he appears. Really the only time he’s rougher than he realises, is when he’s biting you

• If you want it more aggressive, you’ll have to ask. Even then, he’ll be cautious not to overdo it. The last thing he wants is to hurt you

• It’s canon he loves praise. Giving and receiving

𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡

Xavier

SFW

• Low-key likes to carry you around and his fav way is by piggyback ride (loves being physically close to you and the way you cling to him)

• Will fast all day just for Hotpot or Brazilian steakhouse

• Is much better at baking than cooking

• Leaves you Post-it note love letters in places like mirrors, cabinets, and drawers, before he leaves after spending the night

• Unintentional comedian. He's sometimes taken aback by your laughter, but it only encourages him to keep talking just to hear it again

• He honestly loves sharing things with you; food, books, (his) hoodies, etc. He just doesn’t like sharing YOU

• Would plan a scavenger hunt date

• Is always playing coy because he knows it triggers your cuteness aggression

• The pettiest of petty when he's upset or threatened (look up his affinity lvl 140 video call)

• Sometimes stricter than Zayne when it comes to your health & recovery. He hates to see you over-exerting yourself after an injury and has scolded you before about taking it easy

• Loves to get ready for bed with you at the same time. Showering together, doing skincare together, brushing teeth together; whatever you’re doing he’s either tagging along or sitting there watching you

• When he’s spending the night, he can't fall asleep without you playing with his hair and holding hands

• Learned your favourite flower and has been secretly sneaking into Jeremiah’s greenhouse planting and tending to a small bush of them to gift to you whenever

NSFW

• Thigh job

• Mating press

• Morning sex, specifically morning head (f receiving)

• While going down on you, he def seems like the type to keep going after you’ve climaxed, but he slows down his movements, giving languid kisses to your center to help ride out the wave of pleasure vs intentional overstimulation (though he isn’t against that either)

• It seems that the consensus on here is that he's the best eater of the LIs? I don't necessarily disagree; I'm just not completely sure if that title goes to him quite yet

• The most primal and rough of the LIs. Hair pulling, choking (safely), spanking, leashes

• Also likes it when you’re rough with him

[I know I said I wasn’t confident making any hcs abt Caleb yet, but I have a slight hunch he rivals Xavier for most primal]

• Goes feral when you say his name

• This man is a dom, don’t let the puppy eyes and bunny ears fool you 💀

• He's not as noisy as he is talkative, especially during foreplay

• BOSSY

• I don’t put it past him to feel like he’s in competition with vibrators. He’d rather him use one on you, but knows he’s being irrational

• While he’s not really into feet, he’d suck toes during missionary to see how you’d react

✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸ ✮ ✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸ ✮ ✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸

Zayne

SFW

• Alternatively to Sylus, this man is comprised of small gestures that snowball (hehe) over time. One more meaningful than the next

• While he respects and admires your independence, he needs you to need him. He’ll never vocalise it, but he feels most useful and accomplished when you ask for his help

• Won’t let you carry any bags when you’re out shopping, not even your purse

• Like Rafayel, he also has an album on his phone with pictures of mostly you. Though he feels odd taking your picture when you’re not looking, he’s snuck in a photo or two when you were looking particularly lively mingling with the people at his work event

• Knows your go-to orders at all of your fav restaurants by heart

• Stargazing dates. When either of you are out of town for a while and are catching up on the phone before bed, he’ll tell you to go outside and look at the moon

• After a long shift at work, he’ll kneel by your side of the couch waiting for you to embrace him, hugging and nuzzling your waist

• He also secretly loves being the little spoon

• Subscribed to a delivery service that sends you flowers on your birthday every year

• There’s something about Zayne that makes me think dogs absolutely LOVE him even though he’s not particularly fond of their energetic nature

• Spoils you rotten when you’re on your period. Full princess treatment; plushie heating pads, full body massages, raspberry tea, and hand feeding you snacks. Basically Dr Zayne turns into Nurse Zayne

• He’s more lenient with your cravings, letting you have a small portion of desserts or snacks only after you’ve finished your meal

• Loves your laugh but knows his dry wit won’t always work, so he’ll just tickle you if the joke doesn’t land

• Fell in love with you after the Drunken Intimacy card. It made him realise how much he likes holding you and tending to your needs

• Doesn’t even bother lecturing you about how bad high heels are for your joints and muscles anymore. He now keeps a pair of slippers in his car just in case you start to complain

• He can never resist the urge to kiss your cheek or forehead when he sees you’re fast asleep (Canon 🥹)

NSFW

• Has a weakness for lingerie, lace and stockings

• In the submissive, he’d be just like the kitty butler in his card -the goodest of good boys

• …Feet? I’m not sure if it’s anything freaky. Kudos to whoever clocked that for sub! Zayne months prior to the kitty butler quad banner

• Soft dom, but not as gentle as his voice lets on. He’s already a bit strict with you in your relationship, and he’s the same way in bed. How is he supposed to know what feels good if you don’t vocalise it?

• The only time he’s pretty rough with you is when you provoke him. But he checks in with you to make sure he isn’t being too hard

• Once he loses his control, he gets a tiny bit greedy too (“We’re not done here. Quitting halfway isn’t something I would do” —Silent Poem Secret Times)

• His methods of brat “taming” aren’t anything over the top or domineering. Though he enjoys spanking, he thinks there are better lessons he could teach you to combat your brattiness

• Has definitely gone down on you and stopped altogether right before you climax as a form of punishment

• Shibari + Hitachi -girl run!

• Ice play

• Nipple play (giving and receiving)

• The size of your chest doesn’t really matter to him, he just really likes to hold and massage them. It’s his favourite way to keep his hands warm

• This man is so good with his hands and in more ways than one. The placement and movement of his hands in the Nightly Rendezvous card sent me into orbit. The body worship he’d do is insane

• Needless to say he’s the best at fingering

• You’re irresistible to him. He breathes you into every kiss, deepening as your bodies continue to merge. There’s no sex without passion, even the “quickies”

• Quickies usually only happen when you’ve teased or provoked him too far during (or on your way to) an event. Otherwise, he likes taking his time with you

• He knows your body like the back of his hand. He’s memorised what triggers the sounds, faces, and jolts your body makes

• Much like Xavier, he loves to hear you cry out his name

❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆

[obsessivevoidkitten]

That Time You Got Yeeted Into Another World, Mistaken as a God-Sent Gift, and Used as a Prize in an Arena

Yandere Bear-Man Dilf x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: Noncon, framed for a crime, language barrier, eaten out like it's groceries, biting, scent marking, musk, combat, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 765

(Speed written out of nowhere because I had the idea suddenly, not beta read so please forgive any mistakes. I hope you guys like this ficlet. Also forgive the title, in a game I was playing there was a crossover with "That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime" and I liked the vibe of the title.)

You were framed for a crime you didn't commit and in your village the punishment for that crime was immediate exile via being shoved down a steep crater in the center of which is a one-way portal to what is thought to be Hell.

What no one on your side of the portal knew was that on the other side was just another world. A world that celebrated with a great holiday anytime a human came through the portal. It was also a world populated entirely, with the exception of humans who crossed over, by human-like beast hybrids.

Driders, lion hybrids, nagas, aqrabuamelu (scorpion-men), harpies, dog people, centaurs, minotaurs, gnolls, and many other races that seemed to be part human. 

They have a connecting portal in their universe, but any who try to go into it are spat back out. The current went only in one direction.

Every few years, a human would be flung forth from the portal, a gift from the gods! But only the worthy can keep such a gift. So whenever a human comes to the realm from the watcher of the portal will ring the bells and all the warriors assemble and a grand tournament is held at the arena. Whoever wins gets to keep the human and gains enough wealth to care for them properly.

Things are no different when you arrive, you are immediately ushered away, examined, and pampered like a prize doll with no agency. Despite your objections. It seems like only the keeper of the portal has any rudimentary undestanding of your language, not that it helped you. He didn't explain much and his speech wasn't that great. Something about... a big game?

You were naturally frightened beyond all reason, seeing all these beast-men, but it didn't seem like you were being harmed. It really wasn't what you thought hell was going to be like. 

On the day of the big tournament, you were dressed in the finest silks, given a tiny crown of silver, and taken to the best seat in the arena. One where everyone could see you. A cushioned throne was provided for you to sit upon. You figured that this must be a ceremony to welcome people from the portal.

You watched as all the combatants sparred. At first you were horrified, but it became evident that people could yield and death was, almost always, avoided. There were combatants of every variety. 

Even from the start the best seemed to be a naga woman named Eeris and a bear-man named Brakwen. As they advanced through the fights they both finally made it to the finals where they'd clash. Eeris favored twin daggers and fangs while Brakwen used claws and brute strength. He had a sword but had not resorted to using it. 

It was a mighty battle but Brakwen the bear-man managed to win. You still did not yet realize you were the prize. Not until you were escorted down to him and were carried bridal style out of the arena with the crowd cheering. Brakwen had won the god's favor!

From close up he looked even more imposing. He seemed to be in his late 30s to early 40s. He mostly looked like a hairy man from far away though up close his massive size, sharp teeth, claws, thick fur covering his arms and quite frankly adorable bear ears, gave him away. He was rugged but admittedly rather handsome. You knew there was nothing you could do so you let him carry you away. 

Despite the language barrier, Brakwen did his best to please his god-given prize. He could tell you feared him. Especially since you tried to run off a few times. But Brakwen didn't get angry. You never even managed to get past the door. Even if you did there were two gates outside the house. You were far too valuable to let wander off. 

Eventually when you had stopped running off, and when his rut demanded he wait no longer, he began acting a bot more aggressove and sexual towards you. 

Though you tried to stop him it ended with him stretching out your hole with his powerful tongue, lubing you up with his copious amounts of drool, and sliding into you with his massive musky cock.

That's what your life was now. Being treated like a fragile precious gem most of the time and then for one week out of every month you were fucked full of hot bear cum in every possible position, bitten possessively, and scent marked by being forced to wear his oversized clothing. 

[mochiwonz]

─── INTO YOU ୨୧

PAIRING. fem!reader x jake sim﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ FEATURING. heeseung as your older brother CONTENT. brother's bestfriend to ?? , smut , p in v , unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it !!) , kitchen sex , breast & nipple play , grinding , cursing , dirty talk , petnames , cumming inside , jake likes to tease ;3 , mention of pillow humping NOTE. not proofread & lowercase is intended !! enjoy this yummy smut fic ≧ᗜ≦

the one and only, jake sim— heeseung's closest friend since the eighth grade. him and heeseung were both older than you, jake being born in 2002 and heeseung being born in 2001. not that age really mattered, though. ever since heeseung had first introduced jake to you, you'd always felt like he was a bit immature. too loud, too mischevious, just not your cup of tea. even at the ripe age of 21, you still saw him as a boy.

it wasn't until he turned 22 that you'd realized something changed.

it seemed as though jake had finally grown into a man— and a very good-looking one at that.

he changed the way he dressed, swapping out his skinny jeans for baggy cargo pants and sweatpants and plain hoodies for leather jackets and much more. he'd also gotten a haircut and learned how to style it.

quite the opposite of what'd you expect from him.

he also started wearing cologne— a clean but musky scent that you really liked.

you never expected yourself to ever be attracted to jake, but it happened. you were actually starting to find the one and only, jake sim, attractive.

at first, you were definitely in denial, comprehending the whole situation. you'd practically despised him since you'd first laid your eyes on him, god you couldn't believe it.

"hey y/n" jake waved at you from across the living room as you made your way downstairs to grab a cup of water.

"hey" you simply replied, not wanting to give him too much attention. you didn't even spare him a glance. you couldn't, or else you'd probably turn red.

even though you didn't look at him, directly— you could see him from your peripheral vision. he was wearing a pair of baggy grey sweatpants, a fitted black tank top, and a hat that he was wearing backwards. you could also tell that he was very obviously manspreading.

he looked hot as fuck.

of course, jake had noticed how you avoided him these days. he noticed how you would never make eye-contact, never glance at him, and never even really speak to him. he usually brushed it off as something to due with tiredness or stress, but today it felt different— like you were avoiding him for a very different reason.

you'd just gotten a glass from the cupboard and walked over to the fridge to fill it up when you heard him get up from the couch.

' oh, he's probably just going to the bathroom ' you thought.

you'd convinced yourself of that until you felt jake's presence right behind you.

"y/n" he said while clearing his throat, trying to grab your attention.

no, you had to make a run for it. you couldn't embarrass yourself infront of jake, especially right now— you weren't even wearing any makeup.

you quickly put down the glass of water on the nearest counter top and started to speed-walk away from him when you felt a grip on your wrist.

"jake, i need to go—" you were about to make a stupid excuse, until he cut you off.

"no y/n, you don't need to go anywhere right now." he says in an almost stern tone of voice, pulling you towards him by your wrist. "you know, i can tell that you're avoiding me... right?

you nervously laugh in response. were you that obvious or was he just really good at reading people?

"wasn't avoiding you..." you say under your breath. anyone could tell that you were lying, it was blatantly obvious— how you stared at the grown and wouldn't dare to get any closer to him.

"you sure, pretty?" he swiftly moves his hand from your wrist to your waist and pulls you even closer to him.

he was so close to you, you could even feel his breath on your face. you swore you could hear his heartbeat, too.

you froze, voice caught in your throat. everything was happening way too quick, you weren't even processing anything right now.

"cat got your tongue?" he chuckles, bringing his hand to your chin— indicating for you to look at him.

you reluctantly look up at him and wow. he was just gorgeous. seeing him this up-close gave you the craziest butterflies you'd ever felt. his tall nose, plump lips, pretty puppy eyes, and honey-tanned skin really did it for you.

jake felt the same way about you. he hadn't seen you this close since... forever. you'd always been pretty, but you were absolutely beautiful, now. the way your eyes were shining, the natural shade of your lips, your bare skin— you looked like an angel.

"you're so handsome" you say as if in a daze, your lips betraying you.

it's not until he plants a peck on your lips that you realize what you'd just said.

"mm, see? i knew it" jake says as he wraps both arms around your waist and turns you around— so that your back is against his chest.

all you could do was let out a weak whimper in response.

"it's okay pretty, i think you're so so gorgeous" he tells you in a low, raspy voice— his hot breath lingering on your skin.

before you can process what just happened in the last 10 seconds, he's quick to turn you around. only now, you're facing him.

jake is quick to pull you into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. you wrap your arms around his neck as his large hands find your ass, groping it.

"shit baby, you taste so good" jake manages to groan out in-between kisses.

you'd been daydreaming about jake lately. especially about how he'd kiss you. however, nothing could compare to how he actually kissed you. the way his plump lips felt as though they were molded for yours. the way he was basically attacking the insides of your mouth with his tongue. god, he was such a good kisser.

you tangle your hands in his pretty black hair as you deepen the kiss. in one swift motion, jake picks you up and gently places you on the cold, granite countertop.

growing needier and needier by the second, you start to rut your clothed cunt against his erect cock.

you both pull away from the kiss, breathless and in a daze. jake is quick to grind his hips up into yours.

"fuuckkk" he moans as he throws his head back, "feels s' good, pretty— fuckk"

your lips form an "O" shape as you squeeze your eyes shut, the pleasure almost unbearable.

sure, you'd humped your pillow thinking of jake, but this was definitely more than a thousand times better.

"jae— ngh!" you lay back onto the countertop as jake pulls your hips closer to his, increasing the friction.

"call me that again" he grunts in a deep yet breathless tone of voice, pretty black hair sticking to his already sweaty forehead.

"faster jae! faster!" you moan out in almost a shriek. you're not sure how much of a mess you are right now, you just know that you feel so fucking good.

before you can even catch on, you feel that familiar feeling in your stomach— you were so close, so close to cumming. and right before you reached your climax, jake pulled his hips away from yours.

jake catches how you frown at the loss of friction and laughs.

"not funny..." you say, staring at his veiny hands and forearms.

"never thought it was funny, princess. just want you to cum on my cock"

you feel your pussy get even more soppy at his dirty words. you knew that your panties were most definitely soaked, at this point.

"that's what you want, right pretty girl?" he asks, already knowing what you're going to answer. he just wanted to tease you a little.

pretty, pretty girl, baby, princess— all the petnames were killing you. not only that but his thick accent, too.

"yes" you mumble.

"hm?" he teases, slowly removing your pajama top— loving how your ears go completely red.

"yes please jae— " you're caught off guard by a warm, wet feeling around your nipple, jake's mouth. he's flicking your hardened nub with his tongue while groping your other breast with his hand.

"oh fuckk jaee" you whine, the feeling unfamiliar but so good.

the pleasure he's giving you right now is quite literally insane. you didn't know what to do with yourself, you were a moaning mess. your hair was sticking to you forehead, your skin was glistening with sweat, and your eyes were rolled all the way to the back of your head.

you weren't the only one that was a moaning mess, jake was too. he was lost in the pleasure, desperately grinding his hardened cock against your thigh toying your erect nipple with his tongue, your little moans and whimpers making him even harder— if that was even humanly possible.

"want you now, shit— please" you say, squirming around. jake finally removes his plump lips from your breast and looks at you, his gaze filled with both adoration and lust.

without saying a word, jake swiftly removes your pajama shorts and his black tank top and grey sweatpants.

now you're completely bare, and so is jake.

he was shamelessly eyeing every inch of your body, his eyes moving from your collarbones, to your perky breasts, to your puffy, neglected cunt. you were so beautiful, so so beautiful.

becoming impatient, you sit up and tug on the band of his boxers, indicating that you really needed him, inside of you— now.

"want me so bad, huh y/nnie?" he teases, once again. you squeeze your thighs together at his statement, feeling your wetness dripping out of your pussy onto your inner thighs.

you eagerly nod in response, not being able to form an actual response. he pulls down his boxers to reveal his cock, on display just for you.

he had such a pretty dick, i mean— what did you expect? he was jake sim, after all. the tip of his cock was a pretty pink, the same shade of pink as his lips. it had 3 prominent veins wrapping around it. the way it was proudly standing against his abs was causing you to drool.

jake guides your hand to his dick, wrapping your hand around it and guiding your hand up and down. you both moan at the feeling, you couldn't believe this was happening. neither could he.

"feel how hard i am? see it? just f' you, pretty" he tells you as you smear his precum all over the tip of his cock. he squeezes his eyes shut at how your soft hand feels against him, so fucking good.

you remove your hand and lay back on your forearms, bringing your hips closer, causing your wet pussy to rub against his tip. he opens his eyes at the sudden loss of movement. he looks down at you, only to quickly gasp at the feeling of his tip rubbing against your sticky folds.

"shittt" he moans in an almost whiney tone. the feeling of your bare, wet cunt against his cock was making him lose his sanity. he swears he could cum just from this.

you're both grinding against eachother, until you feel his hips pull away from yours.

"jake wha—" you're immediately cut off by jake. not with words, though.

it's the feeling of his large, erect cock inside your gummy walls. you didn't even notice him sliding his dick into your pussy because of how absolutely wet you were.

"felt like i was about to cum, had to be inside you incase i did" he grunts, once again bringing his hand to cup your breast.

neither one of you moves. you were still adjusting and jake was just holding back, he was so close to just letting loose and fucking your brains out.

however, it was now your turn to catch him off guard. you started moving your hips at a quick pace while rubbing your clit with your thumb.

"oh fuck baby, just like that, keep fucking yourself on my dick like that, shitt"

you clench around his cock at his words, causing him to let out a whiney moan. he quickly leans down and leaves wet kisses along your neck.

jake notices how you've seemed to slow down and decides that he's really going to fuck you now— like how he has wanted to for so, so long.

he begins thrusting into you as you lazily grind your cunt against his dick. he's slamming his cock so deep inside of you at such an animalistic pace, it's almost unbearable. but in a good way, of course.

"shit, shit, shit" he grunts out every time he thrusts his dick into you, his balls slamming against your plump ass.

all you can do is moan and whimper. your hands are grabbing onto his hair so hard you'd think he'd be in pain, but he actually finds it so pleasurable.

"pussy so wet f' me, love this pussy" he slows down just a little, thrusting deeper instead of faster. with the way he's fucking you right now, you can hear how your pussy squelches every time he thrusts into you.

"hngh! jae, 'm gonna cum, gonna cum—" you moan loudly as you pull him into a sloppy kiss, cutting yourself off.

jake wastes absolutely no time and starts fucking you at an unreal pace, much quicker than before. within no time, he finds your g-spot and places his hand on your clit, rubbing circles on it. your hands are still tangled in his hair, still pulling on it.

"yeah? gonna cum for me? cum on this dick, princess— shitt, holy fuck" he rambles dirty words on and on, bringing you closer to your climax.

before you know it— you're creaming his cock with your cum. you black out for a few seconds from your intense orgasm, as jake continues to slam into you. he's so close, so fucking close.

"gonna cum inside you, fuck, fuck, fuck— squeezing me so tight baby, shittt"

jake lets out a loud grunt as he spills his load into your warm cunt, holding your body close to his.

yeah, this was the first time you two had fucked, but it definitely wasn't the last.

please like, reblog, and comment if u enjoyed :3 u can find my other works here !

© mochiwonz ― all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, or translate my work.

[cheer-nympho]

Steve was always being brushed off when he asked people to read things aloud for him,

In middle school his assigned partner for their ‘Frankenstein’ project gave him a scornful glare and ignored him when he had asked them to read the passages aloud.

In his sophomore year, he’d turned to ask Robin Buckley to read a old newspaper article about the ‘Wild West’ to him, because he couldn’t make it out through the fonts and weird words. She had fixed him with a cold look but before she could respond, Tammy was tapping his shoulder offering her help.

Then, while studying with Nancy and Barb at lunch, Steve had asked for help reading study cards. His own study cards. The paper was too bright and the squiggles too squiggly. Both of them had looked at him, them each other, clearly trying to decide if it was a joke.

Barb had scoffed under Nancys pointed look and gone back to her own notes. And while Nancy hadn’t read them out for him, she had handed him her own notes on some nice blue and yellow cards. It took him a while, but he could read them. Maybe she thought he hadn’t wrote any.

After that, he went a long time without asking anyone to read him things. Turns out that once you graduate, reading isn’t much of an issue. He’d gotten by just fine by looking at his Archie comics and ignoring the swirling lines of articles surrounding them.

He didn’t need to ask again until Scoops Ahoy. For a cheap, overly themed ice cream parlour there sure was a whole lot of memorising and reading to be done. He couldn’t see the charts properly, couldn’t really make out the dates on the tubs in the freezer. But every time he asked Robin for help, her frown would deepen and deepen until she just snapped. It hadn’t been that mean, really. Just an annoyed yell followed by accusations of being lazy, her not understanding how he managed to graduate, one last comment of him being a ‘bumbling idiot’.

After the Russians, she never said anything like that to him again. And she always did the inventory and lists for him.

It takes until summer, 1987, for anyone to read aloud to Steve. They were laying across Eddie’s new bed in comfortable silence.

Steve had his legs dangling off the edges as Eddie leant back against him, legs pointing up against the wall in a way he swore was actually comfortable. He had been reading a new book called “Spellfire” and he couldn’t seem to put it down.

“Eddie?”

“Hm?”

“What’s your book about?”

“This? Well I…Not sure it’s really your thing, man.”

“Maybe.” He goes back to reading. “I could see if it’s my thing?”

Eddie twists his head sideways to look up at Steve with a slightly confused face. “You wanna borrow it?”

“Was thinking you could read it.” He fiddled with the pocket of his jeans in a hopefully casual and not freaking out way. He didn’t look at Eddie as he waited, but after a few moments he responded.

“Sure. That’s fine, yeah. Want me to start over or go from here?”

“From there is good.”

And it was good, it was really really good. Steve hadn’t been able to read a book since middle school, hadn’t really tried again after that. But as he lay back and let Eddie’s voice wash over him he couldn’t help feeling that he’d been missing out.

Sure, it actually wasn’t really his thing, but the way Eddie read aloud painted such a clear picture that Steve enjoyed it anyway. The other would change his voice slightly for different characters and added emotions into his speaking. If it was a tense moment, he’d go slow and add gaps in just the right places. If it was fast paced he’d speed up and get more and more manic until the action cut off. He felt like he was reading along. Felt like he could see the pages in the book, but also the characters and the dungeon they were combining through.

So, for the first time Steve hadn’t been brushed off. He had probably found the only person he knew who could turn reading a book into a performance. One he would happily be seated for every night.

From then on, new books turned up at the trailer every week, Steve not far behind.

[3d-wifey]

can i get a short lil sumthin sumthin about remus and his girlfriend being academic weapons, sirius and james thinks they're boring bc they've been doing their work in the library for hours but they're actually cockwarming and seeing who'll crack first heheheh 👀👀👀

"Focus, Lupin"

Pairing: Remus Lupin x girlfriend!reader

Synopsis: You and Remus are quite competitive, always going head-to-head in your classes. It’s commonplace to compete for the highest marks. What isn’t commonplace is the sabotage in the form of Remus’s wandering hands.  

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: well, smut of course! Exhibitionism, possessive Remus, yall are both freaks tbh, cucking? cock warming, riding

A/N: The other marauders have a big fat stinking crush on you but that's neither here nor there until the end of the fic. Sighhh, I go through my marauders mood swings. Your house isn't clear so feel free to pick any of them.

Tags: @yvy1s @innercreationflower

Remus hooks his chin over your shoulder, looking for all the world as if he's just getting into a better position to read his chicken scratch notes, pressing your back even further against his chest. You inhale, clenching around him at the sudden movement. You scoff at his near-inaudible laughter, elbowing him as he chuckles into your neck.

"Quit it." You grumble, quil moving at the speed of light as you furiously write.

"Quit what?" He moves the textbook you're sharing closer, the big hand he places on the page mirrors the one that's settled on your stomach. He spreads his fingers wide like he's stretching them before he drums them along the parchment. You wish you hadn't left your robes in your dorm, at least then you'd have another layer between your skin and Remus's teasing touch.

"You're cheating." You hiss, but that's the most you do to reprimand him. It's your fault you're in this mess anyhow.

Both of you are always the highest scorers in your class. And with the past few exams, you've been getting the same score or beating each other by a point or two. It's bloody frustrating.

You continuously tried to one-up each other in academics, long after you two started dating. He's your rival first, boyfriend second.

At this very moment, before you both sit two half-done papers for your N.E.W.T-level Alchemy class that isn't due for another week, but you get extra house points if you're the first to turn it in.

Which you plan to be, even if half the blood in your brain has traveled down to where you're swollen and soaked. You both sit completely clothed, other than where you're hitched on Remus's cock, knickers pulled to the side.

Of course, the library is empty. It's nine in the afternoon on a Friday. And it was your idea to see whose dedication would overpower their carnal desires. 

He laughed you off at first. A soft, dismissive chuckle rumbling from his chest, muffled by the book he barely looked up from. Typical, shaking his head as if you'd said something absurd and that was the beginning and end of it. But you knew him well enough by now to know which buttons to push—and exactly how hard. 

"Yeah, right," you sighed, letting your tone drop into exaggerated defeat as you flopped back against his headboard. "Wouldn't be much of a competition anyway."

Remus paused mid-turn of the page. His brows furrowed, eyes flicking to you in sharp suspicion, but you didn't look at him. Not yet. Instead, you stretched out along his bed like a cat, carefully keeping your expression blank as you toyed with the edge of the blanket.

"...And what's that supposed to mean?" His voice was sharp, clipped, but you could hear the curiosity, the irritation. The competitive edge. Exactly what you were counting on.

"Hm? Oh, nothing." You waved a hand vaguely in his direction, settling yourself comfortably against his pillows. You stretched a little more, arching your back like a cat before flopping onto your side. You kept your expression perfectly neutral, but you knew he could feel the smirk simmering beneath the surface. "It's just...well, we both know you'd give in long before me. So there's truthfully no point in even entertaining the idea." You shrugged, all nonchalance, even as you felt your chest flutter at the way his brows drew together. "I'm just agreeing with you, Rem."

His scoff was immediate, sharp and incredulous. You'd earned yourself a full look now, his book lowering just enough to reveal the disbelief etched across his face. “That’s not what I said.”

You shrugged as if it was no concern to you, deliberately looking away like the conversation was already over, knowing full well he wouldn’t let it rest. You flipped onto your stomach, propping your chin on your hands to stare at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Didn’t need to." 

You bit your lip to keep from smiling as his book lowered—not abruptly, but slowly, deliberately. One inch, then two—his sharp amber eyes flicking to yours. The forefinger he slipped between the pages made it look like he might still pretend to be reading, but you knew better.

The scar closest to his eye twitched, irritation flickering faintly across his face. Merlin, you always loved how expressive that scar was when he was annoyed. One of his fingers tapped against the book spine resting on his chest, the motion twitchy.

He exhaled through his nose—sharp, like he was trying to keep it together—and finally set the book aside. His movements were precise, controlled, but there’s no hiding the faint flush creeping over his neck or the way the corner of his mouth twitched.

You knew you got him. He tried, and failed, to mask his irritation and it was almost unfair how easy he was to rile up. Almost

He let a long silence settle, the weight of his gaze pressing into you. Finally: “…You taking the piss?” 

You let the grin spread across your face this time, sitting up slightly so your chin props on your hands. "M'as serious as the plague, Lupin."

The staring match that followed was something out of a duel, the cogs in his mind clearly spinning. The tension stretched taut between you, thick as smoke, neither of you daring to blink.

His book stayed in his hand for a moment longer, though you saw the exact second he gave up pretending to read. Then, to your satisfaction, he closed his book with an audible thud and set it aside. He shifted, sitting up and leaning forward. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, the muscles in his forearms flexing with the movement, and your stomach twisted—just a smidge.

"Go get your books," he said, his voice low and challenging, sending electricity up your spine. "And meet me in the library."

“Oooh, someone's touchy," you said, walking your fingers up his thigh, muscles tensing under your touch. “Formal battlegrounds now, is it? Bold move, Rem. I thought you liked keeping your humiliations private. But if losing in public gets your rocks off, who am I to deny you?"

His lips twitched—an almost-smile that was gone too fast to catch properly. “I’ll be the one handing out the humiliation, thanks.” 

"Stakes?" you asked, cocking your head.

"Loser buys the winner chocolate frogs for a week," he said, already swinging his legs off the bed. Then, after a pause, he glanced over his shoulder, smirking faintly. "Or…whatever else I decide." 

You pushed yourself up with a wicked grin that matched his, already moving toward the door. “Alright, but don’t be mad when you’re the one giving in first. I know you can’t resist me for long.” 

Behind you, you heard him huff a laugh, though it sounded like he was trying to hide it. “Get your books, trouble. Let’s see how well you actually handle restraint.” 

You were confident by the end of this week you'd overdose on chocolate frogs. Remus might be brilliant and disciplined, but he’s not immune to distraction. Especially distraction in the form of his wickedly beautiful girlfriend.

Truthfully, it was daft of you to assume Remus would play fair. You mix two people who are as competitive as they are horny and it leads you here, on your boyfriend's lap, surely dripping onto the wooden bench under you.

He hums as if he's thinking over the definition of cheating and if what he's doing right now counts as it—which it does.

"S'that right?" He mumbles into your neck and you almost reach for your wand, honest, "I don't see any cheating here, love. Just good old fashioned studying, just like you wanted."

He thrusts up, and your hand flies up to cover your mouth. You see his quill moving out of the corner of your eye without the aid of a hand. "Cheater," you pant, but don't move to stop him or even continue writing your essay. You allow yourself to enjoy the slow, steady rock of his hips against yours—only for a moment. Every vein and ridge dragging against your hypersensitive walls.

You go to reach back—for support, for a futile attempt at stopping the way he rocks into you, feeling as inevitable as the ticking of time—with your other hand, but are stopped by the quill in your hand. You're reminded, there and then, that winning over Remus is almost, if not just as satisfactory as a hard won orgasim.

You put quill to ink pot, and then, quill to parchment. Remus curses behind you but doesn't stop. Not with you panting and whining behind gritted teeth. Not with you clenching around him like a Grindylow's spindly fingers, tightening with a merciless grip. He doesn’t stop until the familiar voice of his mates cuts through the fog.

"There you two are. Should've known you'd be held up in here weeks before your assignment is done. On a weekend at that—" Sirius trails off as he and James discover the little nook you and Remus have secluded yourselves too, as well as the...odd position you find yourselves in.

It's not that he's never seen you two be affectionate, especially nearing the full moon as it is, but you in Remus's lap like this, a flustered look on your face, well, he's not a dumbass. Something out of the ordinary is happening here.

James on the other hand is none the wiser, brows furrowing in self righteous disappointment.

"We've been looking for you two everywhere. Party's not that far off, you know the turn out will be lethal even if we lost the match to those snakes." There was a foul that should've been called, but wasn't, a sligh that the refs didn't catch. In traditional Gryffindor fashion, they didn't whine about a rematch or about the unfairness of it, and in typical Slytherin fashion, they didn't either. But they needed you two to help set up certain spells only you two knew because, well, you created them. Definitely not because they liked watching the way their best mate's girl stretched and bent as she set up in the Gryffindor commons.

"We know," Remus says, glancing up at the boys before looking back to one of the open textbooks. "The plan's to party the weekend away, yeah? It's why we're getting the assignment out of the way. Sooner you let us finish this," he's slowly sliding his hands up from your knees to your hips, pushing you down with such strength that your stomach clenches, "sooner we can help."

"It's...it's just an essay, Sirius. We'll be done before the Hufflepuffs start," you almost bite your tongue mid-sentence when Remus ghosts a callused finger over your aching clit, playing it off as a hiccup, "bringing the snacks.

Neither of you say anything more as you have a sneaking suspicion that they're going to catch on, chances of you opening your mouth to speak only for a moan to tumble out are high. Remus is quiet because he hopes they do figure it out, either from the audible wetness of your cunt or your eyes rolling back as he makes you cum. 

Remus knows they're in love with you and have been since third and fourth year. He's tempted to invite them a glimpse under the table so they can see how he has you stretched around his cock, squirming and wanton. What better way of making sure they know you're his?

And from the way Sirius looks the two of you over, glances down at the table, and raises his perfectly sculpted brows as James begins to ramble at you, there’s no mistaking that Sirius knows. Of course he does. Sirius always knows. His stormy eyes flick down again—deliberate, calculating—as if he’s debating whether or not to call you out. He hums, low and thoughtful, as if weighing the satisfaction of saying something versus letting the moment play out. Instead, he smirks faintly and leans against a nearby bookcase, letting James’s oblivious chatter fill the space.

Remus holds his gaze, unflinching, daring him to say a word. For a brief, reckless moment, he considers sliding his chair back just enough to let Sirius catch a glimpse of how thoroughly he has you. The thought makes his cock twitch inside you, and from the way Sirius’s smirk curves a fraction higher, it’s almost like he knows that, too.

Remus doesn’t full-on smirk when they lock eyes, but it’s a close thing.

"…Right.” Sirius tilts his head slightly, his sharp grey eyes dragging over the two of you like he’s piecing together a puzzle he’s already solved. His gaze flicks down to the table again—just briefly—and then back up to meet yours. The corner of his mouth twitches, not quite a smirk, but close enough to make your stomach drop. “You know, you two really are awful at being subtle.”

Your heart skips a beat, heat rushing to your face as you open your mouth to protest—except Sirius doesn’t give you the chance. He hums thoughtfully, his gaze flicking to Remus, and then back to you, like he’s enjoying the power of watching you squirm. “But don’t think being pretty gets you out of work,” he adds smoothly, leaning in to knock his knuckle against the table. “You’ve got until ten on the dot before I come back and drag you out of here myself.”

James, oblivious as ever, snorts and waves Sirius off. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just mad because we need you for the setup,” he says, rolling his eyes. He jabs a thumb at Sirius, then gestures toward the door. “I told him you’re probably in here studying, because what else would you two be doing on a Friday night?”

Sirius hums again, a low, knowing sound, his gaze locking with Remus’s in a silent challenge. The corner of his mouth curves, just enough for you to wonder if he’s going to say something more—something that will make it impossible to deny that he knows exactly what’s happening beneath the table.

But instead, he lets out a soft laugh, straightening from the bookcase. “Sure,” he drawls, his voice dripping with amusement. “Studying.” His eyes grow bigger as he says it to emphasis just how little he believes that rubbage excuse.

He casts one last look over the two of you, smirking faintly, before turning to leave, James already rambling on about the next Quidditch match as they disappear into the corridor. Relief floods your chest for all of three seconds—before Remus tilts his hips just so, dragging another whimper from you as his cock presses deeper.

You bite your cheek, barely able to return James's wave goodbye before you're digging your nails into Remus's thighs. The same thighs that are currently spreading yours apart. Your skirt rides up, exposing you to the air and his sly hands.

"This," your hips twitch against his as he traces feather-light fingers over your puffy lips, swollen with need. You bite back a whine, huffing harshly through your nose as those fingers move down where the base of his cock sits snugly in you, tubbing slick where you and he are connected. "This is how you're cheating."

"If you're so much better than me, you should be able to focus, no problem, right?" He has an arm wrapped around your waist again, the other flipping pages.

"Fine." If that's how he wants to play, then you are more than game. You lean forward, elbows on the table as you grind your hips back and forth, barely raising off of him before coming back down with your fluttering warmth squeezing around him. "Focus, Lupin. Or, mh, at least try."

"Shhhit. D-dearest, that's not—" he cuts himself off with a truly shameless moan, both hands gripping your waist. He doesn't stop you, no, wouldn't dream of it. Instead, he helps you balance as you move faster, busy chasing your high more than you're focused on sabotaging Remus. "You, your—Merlin, you're bloody brilliant."

At this point, you don't know what'll come first: you, Remus, or Sirius's wrath.