#these are new characters! if you wanted the rocks family

[schemmentigfs]

Req/idea: Melissa wanting to pleasure the reader, but she’s inexperienced with women? (Talking her through it, reassurance, building trust, etc)

Her First Woman’s Touch.

Summary: Melissa goes through a difficult process of self-discovery and acceptance to learn more about intimacy between women, so she can give you pleasure during sex.

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of religious trauma, internalized homophobia, a single slur, body insecurities, smoking, smut. melissa might be out of character sometimes? joe hate club

Notes: This is long, but it’s worth it. 🤍 i wrote it with so much love, so enjoy babies.

Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti wasn’t insecure and vulnerable. She always was the rock of her social circle, the unstoppable woman who could handle anything thrown at her with a steady, unflinching resolve. Her demeanor was tough, marked by a confidence that rarely wavered. But lately, a huge doubt consumed her.

After years of feeling trapped by a label that didn’t define and fit her, she finally came out as a bisexual woman. However, this new freedom came with its own uncertainties. Now, being in a stable four months relationship with you, a more younger, captivating and more experienced soul. Her heart was racing as she thought about how she wanted to please you and be sexually intimate, but her lack of experience with women made her hesitant.

The painful memories of her college years flooded her mind again and again, a time when she had yearned to explore her bisexuality but felt shackled by her upbringing. Her parents, deeply religious, had instilled in her a profound sense of guilt about any feelings that strayed from their beliefs. Melissa always watched with envy as others embraced their identities, while she remained in silence, suppressing who she was. This inner conflict persisted long after graduation, but now, as an adult, it felt heavier than ever.

The memory of her father’s harsh words cut through her like a knife. “You’re going to burn in hell, Melissa Ann!” he shouted, his voice thick with anger and disappointment. “You’re gonna be the black sheep of the Schemmentis. If you don’t stop with those stupid thoughts.” Those horrendous words, once echoing through their small, cluttered kitchen, now reverberated in her mind, haunting her even years later. “Someone corrupted you, that’s not the daughter I raised to make me and your mother proud. Non sei un fottuto frocio!”

A knot tightened in her stomach, a familiar feeling of dread and nausea creeping in as she recalled her traumatic childhood. She remembered the confusion and shame she felt, struggling to understand why she was drawn to both boys and girls. It was a realization she had kept hidden for so long, fearing the wrath and rejection of her family. Every stolen glance, every fleeting crush on a girl, had been tainted with guilt and self–recrimination.

For decades she blamed herself for not being straight. For not fitting into the strict normal mold her family expected her to follow. The fear of condemnation had forced her to hide her true self, living in a constant state of doubt. The burden of carrying her secret had made her feel isolated and alone, as if she were the only one in the world grappling with these feelings.

In her teenage years growing up in a strict devout Catholic household, Melissa would often lock herself in her bedroom, her sanctuary from the outside world, and pray. The room was small, with a crucifix hanging on the wall above her bed, and a small statue of the Virgin Mary on her simple nightstand. The faint scent of incense from morning Mass still lingered in the air. On the days when the weight of her feelings became too much, she would kneel by her bed, clasping her hands tightly together, her knuckles white with tension.

But her prayers often turned into desperate arguments with God. She’d rail against the silence that seemed to mock her suffering. In fits of anger and confusion, she would scream at the crucifix, questioning why she was cursed with desires that didn’t align with the life she had been taught to lead. Melissa was supposed to marry a good healthy man and start a family of her own, wasn’t she?

“Dear Lord, why have you condemned me to this torment?” she cried out, her voice cracking with desperation. “Why have you made me this way? Why can’t you accept me for who I am? Am I so abhorrent in your sight that I must suffer endlessly? Tell me—am I so wrong, so irredeemable in your eyes?”

She paused. “And what about my feelings for both boys and girls? Is it a sin to love them both? Am I to be punished because my heart refuses to choose between them? Why must my own nature be a source of such unending pain? Why can’t you understand that my love for them is just as real, just as genuine, as any other?”

One evening, overwhelmed by the unbearable weight of her internal conflict, Melissa’s deepest frustration reached a boiling point. She hurled a wooden chair across the room, its legs scraping loudly against the floor as it crashed into the wall. The violent act seemed to punctuate her desperation, the chair’s splintering echo a stark contrast to her deep-seated pain.

“Why do you let Pa call me a dyke? Why do you let him say I’m an abomination? You know the pain it causes me! Why do you let him tear me apart inside while Ma pretends nothing’s wrong?”

Her knees buckled as she collapsed to the floor. The coldness of the tiles was a stark contrast to the feverish heat of her anger. One of the holy saints statues, a symbol of her faith, tumbled from its pedestal and shattered, its fragments scattering across the room.

The once serene face was now a mosaic of broken pieces. The porcelain, once pure and whole, now lay in shards, mirroring her own fragmented sense of self. The saint’s broken visage was a stark reminder of the purity that had been tainted by the harsh reality of her suffering.

“No! Not Saint Maria! Nonna’s favorite saint!”

The exhaustion was overwhelming. She felt her limbs growing numb and her head growing heavy. Her vision blurred, and the room spun around her. Despite her attempts to fight it, her body succumbed to the fatigue. Her breaths grew shallower as she drifted closer to unconsciousness.

As she began to lose consciousness, her lips parted, and a whisper escaped her mouth. “I’m just… a failure,” she murmured, voice barely audible. Her depressive words were a final, fragile admission of her internal turmoil. The words were soaked in the weight of her self-loathing and the pain of feeling misunderstood and rejected.

The door creaked open slightly, and Kristin Marie peeked into the old bedroom, her wide eyes searching for her older sister. She saw Melissa sprawled on the floor, her form partially obscured by the scattered shards and a amount of blood. Her innocent curiosity was momentarily replaced by concern, but the sight of her stillness made her stop.

“Sister Mel is sleepy,” she giggled, her words full of poor miscomprehension. The toddler turned to leave, deciding to give her sister the rest she seemed to need. “Play later!”

Hours later, Melissa slowly stirred, her head throbbing with a dull ache. As she tried to sit up, she felt a sticky warmth on her forehead. She reached up, her fingers coming away covered in a faint crimson. Groaning softly, she touched the spot gingerly and winced as the pain intensified.

“Son of a bitch...”

Gazing at the mess and determined to salvage what was left, she carefully gathered the shards of the broken statue, her hands shaking slightly. She meticulously cleaned the pieces, placing them in a small box as though they were precious remnants of something sacred. And pretended that nothing happened. It was now her dirty little secret.

One that Melissa would keep with her until her death.

Every family gathering, every holiday, was a reminder of how different she felt, how she didn't belong. The Schemmentis prided themselves on their strong values, and she felt like an outlier, a blemish on their perfect image. The weight of her father's words and her mother’s neglecting was a constant reminder of the expectations she could never meet the acceptance Melissa feared she would never find. The poor woman’s siblings, although supportive of their sister, stood in silence, afraid of going against their beloved ma and pa.

In the midst of this stifling environment as life continued, the older woman remained in complete denial. At work, she kept her personal life carefully hidden. Even though her closest colleagues sensed her discomfort and unease, they never pried. She wore her public mask of professionalism and cheerfulness, but beneath it, she was struggling with her own truths.

Becoming a tough woman and pretending to just be heterosexual, a role she embraced, took a significant toll on her mental being. This strength she presented to the world was both a shield and a cage. The weight to maintain this image meant suppressing her vulnerabilities and emotions, leading to a constant internal battle. Her moments of solitude were marked by a deep, unspoken sadness as she grappled with isolation.

The persona she projected often felt like a lie, one that she had to uphold despite the emotional exhaustion it caused. Her mental health suffered as she became increasingly disconnected from her true self. Not recognizing herself anymore.

Melissa’s failed marriage with Joe was a constant reminder of the life she had tried to conform to but never truly belonged to.

That seemed to change when Ava hired you as the new teacher to take third-grade class. You brought a warmth and openness that cut through the fiery redhead’s worst barriers, sparking a connection she had not anticipated. As your friendship deepened into something more, she found herself struggling with feelings she had long suppressed. Despite her growing affection for you, she hesitated to cross the line into physical intimacy.

This vulnerability and insecurity consumed her every single second. As she lay in her king-sized bed on a Friday night after a busy day at school, she couldn’t help but replay every moment of your relationship in her mind. She worried constantly about whether she was good enough for you, fearing she might be making you impatient due to her reluctance to have sex. The fear of disappointing you gnawed at her, and she found herself staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. She ached with the desire to connect with you on a deeper level, to show you just how much she cared, but the uncertainty held her back.

Each night, as she lay next to you in your complex apartment, the older woman would often find herself tracing the gentle curves of your sleeping body with her fingertips, memorizing the softness of your skin under her touch. You were a source of warmth and safety, still every time she opened her mouth to voice her fears, the words lodged in her throat. It was a silent battle, one that filled her with shame and frustration. Melissa felt as if she was a stranger in her own body, struggling to reconcile her desires with her reality.

You had been nothing but patient, reassuring her multiple times that there was no rush at all, that love was about connection and trust. Even amidst your understanding, a humiliation consumed her. How could she be almost fifty four and still feel so unprepared for something natural like that? The shame burned fiercely in her chest, a constant reminder of her late blooming, leaving her wondering if she could ever truly satisfy you in the ways you deserved.

“Santo cielo. I can’t do this I fuckin’ can’t.” Melissa cursed, tears threatening to fall into her green eyes. Why was this so damn complicated? The internal struggle felt unbearable, as if a storm was about to explode inside her. It consumed her, and even surrounded by understanding, the pressure of everything was overwhelming.

Turning her head toward the mirror, she stared at her reflection. The image staring back at her was a woman trapped between two worlds. On one side was the freedom she had found in accepting her sexuality, a liberation she had long yearned for. On the other hand, the harsh reality of her insecurities loomed large, amplified by her constant comparisons to others who seemed so much more experienced and confident. The weight of her inexperience made her feel small and inadequate.

She sat up in bed, wiping at her eyes angrily. “Fuck this, Schemmenti,” she muttered. The words came out as a broken whisper, a desperate plea to herself, but the self-reproach did little to ease the turmoil inside her. The tears came anyway, hot and unchecked, as she let out a shuddering breath. She needed to find a way to talk to you, to bridge the gap that her disquiet had created. But the question remained—could she overcome her past and embrace the love she had found with you? She wanted to explore, to learn, to share everything with you, but the fear of failing paralyzed her.

“There are so many things I still don’t understand,” the redhead continued, her voice choking, as if she was waiting for someone to answer her. “So many things that I need to explore. And I keep getting lost in doubts. It’s not fair to you, baby. It’s not fair to me either.”

Melissa let out a long, weary sigh as she sank into the soft embrace of the sheets once again, curling up into a tight ball of self–deprecation. The emptiness of the bedroom started to swallow her figure, a stark contrast to the comfort and safety she used to feel. She stared at the empty space beside her, her gaze tracing the outlines of the pillow and the indentations where you lain on weekends. The walls of the room, once so familiar, now seemed cold and distant, offering little solace from the storm of emotions inside her.

Memories of happy times with you surfaced, fleeting but powerful, when she would catch you looking at her with tenderness, and such understanding, that it felt like the world stopped spinning. In those moments, her apprehension would momentarily dissipate, replaced by the warmth of your company and gaze. She remembered how you would gently reassure her, your voice a soothing balm to her restless state.

I know I’m your first woman; that means everything to me.

I’ll be gentle, just take your time. You’re safe with me.

Your reassurances helped—sometimes. When you’d say things like those, a part of her believed you, trusted in your kindness. But another part of her couldn’t stop the flood of negativity, couldn’t shut out the fear that she would disappoint you, that she was fumbling through something too precious to ruin.

You’ll never be enough for her, Melissa. You’ve never done this before. She’ll get tired of waiting for you to figure it out. You’ll embarrass yourself.

You’re fumbling, and she’s just being nice. She’s just waiting for the moment she can walk away.

You’re too old for this. You’re too slow, too clumsy. She can do better. She will do better.

“Mi dispiace amore mio, sono un codardo,” she yelled punching the mattress with her fist.

That Friday, she cried until she fell asleep. Exhausted, her salty tears wet the pillow, and silent sobs shook her body as she tried, in vain, to calm the storm of emotions built up inside her. The deep need to feel confident and equal to the love you gave her. And as a troubled sleep finally embraced her, Melissa felt a small relief. The crying, in a way, had been a step towards releasing the feelings that tormented her.

Was she really a coward that would never face her fears?

What were you doing with an old lady like her who didn’t know anything?

Wouldn’t it just be better if you left her?

Over the weekend, the older woman was relaxing on the plastic couch in her living room, a glass of red wine resting in her right hand as she puffed away at a cigarette. The soft lights created a welcoming atmosphere, and the sound of the television, playing Celebrity Jeopardy, filled the space with a comfortable familiar distraction. She was distracted, but her mind was away from the entertainment, deep in thoughts about what she had just watched and what she still needed to do. Melissa watched the show's contestants, her eyes scanning the confident faces on the screen.

She looked at her cigarette, which was almost finished, and let it go out in the ashtray. Her old cigarette addiction had become a metaphor for her deepest insecurities — a habit that was difficult to break, but one that constantly reminded her of her challenges and rage. Each ember that dimmed seemed to echo the older woman's own struggles, a poignant reminder of the destructive patterns she fought to escape. The acrid smell lingered, an olfactory ghost of her past, stubbornly clinging to her clothes and her very soul. With a heavy sigh, she flicked the ash and resolved to confront the parts of herself she had long tried to ignore.

She leaned back into the couch, closing her eyes and taking another sip of wine. The warmth of the alcohol spread through her chest, loosening some of the tension. She knew she needed to do something, to find a way to overcome her fears and insecurities. But where to start? And how to reach information? The idea of opening up about her feelings, of admitting her lack of experience, felt terrifying since she hated to show any sign of weakness.

“Maybe I should do some research?” Melissa thought aloud, the idea dawning on her slowly. It sounded ridiculous at first, but the more she considered it, the more it made sense. She had always been someone who liked to be prepared, to have all the information before making a decision. This situation was no different. If she wanted to feel more confident, she needed to educate herself.

As the edition of Celebrity Jeopardy on the TV ended, replaced by a late-night talk show, Melissa stood up and stretched, feeling the tension ease from her muscles. She walked over to the windows, looking out at the night sky. The stars twinkled brightly, a reminder that the world was vast and full of possibilities. She smiled softly to herself, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.

The redhead raised another cigarette to the empty room, striking a match with a soft scratch. As the flame illuminated the dark space for a moment, she took a deep drag, letting the smoke curl up around her. “To new beginnings, for me, for Y/n. To us,” she whispered, voice barely above a murmur. The words hung in the air, resonating in the quiet of the room. It wasn’t a perfect solution, and she knew doubts and fears would still linger. But it was a step in the right direction. As the TV continued to hum, Melissa felt a small flicker of hope. She might not have all the answers, but at least she was ready to start looking for them.

Over the next few days and weeks, on several sleepless nights, the teacher searched on Google. How to navigate a same-sex relationship when you’re inexperienced? she typed, pressing enter before she could second-guess herself. As the results loaded, she skimmed through the titles. There were so many women who had been in her shoes, who had felt the same insecurities and fears at one moment of their lives. With each click, she felt more intrigued and amazed as she noticed the many different options for how she could give and receive pleasure. Articles, videos, forums—an entire world unfolded before her, revealing nuances she had never considered or imagined. She read article after article, watched educational videos, and even ventured into The Womanizer and Quinn blogs where women shared their intimate experiences and advice. The sheer variety of ways to connect and pleasure each other was both overwhelming and fascinating to her.

As she read through personal stories and advice columns, Melissa felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation. She took notes, bookmarked pages, and even found herself blushing at some of the more detailed descriptions. It was a strange, exhilarating education that left her feeling more informed but still uncertain. The more she learned, the more she realized how much she didn't know. And as she delved deeper into this research, she began to realize that the key was not just in techniques, but in communication and emotional connection. The Sicilian woman recalled how your soft touches and kind words made her feel safe and wanted. Perhaps the most important thing would be to bring that same security and desire to both of you.

After weeks of diving into intense research, Melissa found herself at a crossroad. Each day spent pouring over books, articles, and seeking advice had only heightened her awareness of her inexperience. The redhead made a heartfelt promise to herself, one that resonated deeply within her. She resolved that rather than allowing her fears and uncertainties to overshadow her, she would harness the insights she had gained to fortify the bond between you. This wasn’t just about confronting her own apprehensions; it was about opening her heart fully and trusting you in ways she had never allowed herself before.

She envisioned a future where both of you could explore and embrace the full spectrum of love and connection. Melissa understood that the path ahead would not be without its challenges. It would require patience, understanding, and a willingness to be vulnerable. Although, she was committed to embarking on this journey with you. She was prepared to face her worst fears head-on and let the promise of love and trust guide her.

—

“C’mon. It shouldn’t be that hard, stop being a pussy.” The redhead huffed, walking through the busy streets and holding a small pamphlet with an address on it. Pushing herself forward. The words were meant to be a pep talk, but they came out more as a grumble. Dressed in a black leather jacket, her left hand buried deep in her pocket gripping her keys so tightly that the cold metal dug into her palm. While the right clutched the paper, she cut a confident figure. But inside, she felt like a terrified kid again.

On this afternoon, Melissa found herself standing outside a cozy queer café in Philadelphia. The establishment’s large windows framed a warm, inviting interior filled with plush armchairs, bookshelves, vases of plants and soft lighting. A sign with an impeccable handwriting on the door read Sapphic Women’s Discussion Group. All Welcome! The vibrant façade, adorned with rainbow flags and welcoming posters promoting LGBTQ+ events, felt inviting and intimidating.

She was resting on the door handle. The intrusive thought of turning around, retreating to the safety of her car, and forgetting this whole idea crossed her mind. For years, Melissa had thought about walking into a place like this, spaces that welcomed women like her, women who loved other women—but she never imagined she’d actually do it. Not at her age, not after a life of silence and denial.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods enveloping her.

“Here goes nothin’,” The Italian redhead said with a hint of sarcasm, her South Philly accent wry and unmistakable. “I swear if anyone makes funny of me, I’ll fucking ran away–”

Inside, the atmosphere was lively but casual. Women of various ages and backgrounds were seated at tables, engaged in conversations. Laughter and the hum of voices filled the air, creating a sense of community and belonging. The older woman spotted a table in the corner with a small group of women and made her way over, hoping to blend in while still taking in the atmosphere and aura. The table she chose was adorned with a simple centerpiece of fresh flowers, next to a hand-drawn menu filled with witty drink names like Sappho’s Latte and Audre’s Espresso.

“Mind if I sit here?” she asked, her voice betraying just a hint of nervousness.

They nodded, murmuring polite welcomes, and she sat down, smoothing her jacket out of habit. Just as she was settling in, a woman in her mid-thirties approached, a friendly smile lighting up her face. She had short, dark hair that fell naturally across her forehead, and her denim jacket was covered with pins advocating for various causes—pride flags, feminist slogans, and more. There was something about her presence that radiated both strength and warmth, an unspoken understanding in her eyes that seemed to invite openness.

“Hey, you’re new here, right? I’m Jules. Can I join you?”

She managed a small, nervous smile and shifted her gaze downward, politely giving her a clumsy handshake. “Sure, it’s my first time being here. I’m Melissa.”

Jules took a seat and leaned back, her presence somehow instantly putting her at ease. “So, what brings you here today?”

Melissa took a deep breath. It wasn’t easy to open up about something so personal, especially to a place full of strangers, but something about the atmosphere in the shop made her feel safe enough to try.

“Recently, I came out as bisexual,” the older woman began, trembling. “It took me years to figure it out...or maybe I knew all along, but I was just too scared to accept it because of, you know... religious guilt and family trauma.”

“That’s a huge step, Mel. Coming out, especially after carrying something like that for so long... It’s not easy. You’re brave for even being here.”

Encouraged by understanding, she continued, though her words still came out haltingly. “I.. I’m in a relationship now, with a younger woman. She’s amazing, and I really care about her. But I’ve never been intimate with a woman before, and I... I’m so scared. I want to pleasure her, make her feel good, but I don’t know where to start. I was afraid to come here and open up about this. I thought... I thought people might laugh at me or think I’m not ‘really’ bi because I’ve never done it before.”

Jules reached across the table and placed her hand on Melissa’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring pat. “You’re definitely not alone in feeling that way. A lot of us have been where you are now. It’s completely normal to feel nervous, especially when it’s all so new. But what’s important is that you’re here, willing to learn and grow.”

The green eyed woman felt a lump forming in her throat.

“I was married too," she confessed, tinged with bitterness and pain. “My ex-husband, Joe… he was a dickhead. He was always drunk, and he cheated on me more times than I can count. I stayed with him ‘cause I thought it was the ‘right’ thing to do, you know? Because of my family, because of my faith… But it was killing me inside. I was miserable, and it took me a long time to realize that I deserved better.”

“I’m sorry you went through that,” the youngest said sincerely. "No one deserves to be treated that way. But you’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

As they spoke, Jules gave a subtle signal to a few women seated nearby. One by one, they began to gather around, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and encouragement. They formed a small semicircle, their presence a quiet testament to the power of community. Each woman seemed to carry her own story, her own struggles and triumphs, but there was no judgment here—only acceptance.

One of the women, a young woman with thoughtful eyes, spoke up first. “You know, sometimes the most important thing is to listen and learn without rushing. Every relationship is different. What works for one couple might not work for another.”

Another woman, slightly older, nodded in agreement. “And balancing personal space with intimacy is key. You have to be able to communicate openly about your needs and boundaries.”

Melissa nodded, absorbing their words like a sponge. The advice was practical, yes, but it was the honesty and openness in their voices that struck her most. They weren’t just talking at her—they were sharing pieces of themselves.

The conversation continued, flowing naturally between experiences of first loves, heartbreaks, and everything in between. They discussed how vital it was to take things slow, to be attuned to each other’s needs, to ask questions, and most of all, to approach intimacy with openness and care. Each woman offered something unique, from personal tips to deeply felt wisdom, and by the time the gathering wound down, Melissa felt an overwhelming sense of relief and empowerment.

As the women began to disperse, exchanging hugs and goodbyes, Melissa stood up from the table, feeling lighter than when she had walked in. Jules caught her eye one last time, giving her a reassuring nod.

“You’ve got this, Mel. Just remember to trust yourself, okay?”

She smiled, a genuine warmth spreading across her face for the first time that evening. “Thank you… really.”

As she stepped outside, the sun still hung low in the sky, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. For the first time in a long while, she felt hopeful. She wasn’t just carrying the weight of her past anymore—she was moving forward, armed with the knowledge, support, and confidence she’d gained from this little café and the women who had opened their hearts to her.

Melissa was ready to take the next steps in your relationship.

—

Wednesday was different for Melissa. From the moment she woke up, she could feel the weight of anticipation pressing down on her chest. After dropping her second graders—whom she affectionately called her “little eagles”—off at the gym for physical education, her day should have felt like any other. But instead, her mind raced, a nervous buzz thrumming beneath her skin. She spent the rest of the morning mentally rehearsing what she planned to say, her palms growing sweaty each time she replayed the words in her head.

By the time the lunch bell rang, her resolve had formed, but her body still trembled as she made her way to the cafeteria. She spotted you immediately, seated at a table with Jacob and Janine. The three of you were deep in discussion, laughing about the success of the recent library program project. The sound of your laughter, bright and carefree, made Melissa’s heart flutter. It grounded her, reminding her of why she wanted to do this in the first place.

But as she approached, her heart raced, and the familiar anxiety crept back in. What if she said the wrong thing? What if you didn’t want the same things she did? She had planned something special for the two of you tonight, something that would show you just how much she cared. She just hoped she wouldn’t trip over now that she was so close to making it real.

You were in the middle of recounting a funny story about one of your students when your gaze shifted, and you saw her walking toward the table. Instantly, your surroundings blurred; the laughter and conversation between Jacob and Janine faded into a distant hum as your focus zeroed in on her. Melissa wasn’t often nervous, but there was something in the way she carried herself now—vulnerable yet brave—that made your heart swell with affection.

She hesitated for a moment, standing a few feet away. Her green eyes flicked to the floor as though she was searching for the right words. Her hands, you noticed, were fidgeting at the hem of her blouse, tracing the fabric as if seeking comfort. She drew in a breath before speaking, her voice soft but laced with determination.

“I, um… I planned a romantic dinner for us tonight.” She was cautious, almost tentative. “Would you be able to come over to my place at seven, hon?”

Your heart warmed at her nervousness, and you gave her a soft, reassuring smile. “Of course, babe. I’d love to.” The tenderness in your tone seemed to ease her tension, and you couldn’t help but add. “Do you want me to bring anything? A bottle of your favorite white wine or—”

“No, just you and your beautiful body,” The second the words left her lips, her face flushed a deep, fiery red, the color climbing up her neck and spreading across her cheeks. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth as her eyes went wide in shock at her own boldness. It was as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just said, and the mortification was clear in the way her shoulders tensed. “Oh?”

Jacob and Janine, who had been standing just far enough away to give you both some privacy, exchanged a quick glance. Janine, ever the romantic, stifled a squeal of excitement, biting her hand to keep from bursting into giddy laughter. Jacob, always the supportive friend, gave Melissa a discreet thumbs-up, mouthing.“You’ve got this. Just breathe, Mel Mel.” Their silent gestures of support didn’t go unnoticed by Melissa, and despite the fiery embarrassment burning in her cheeks, she felt a rush of warmth and gratitude.

You, too, caught the brief exchange between your friends and chuckled, though your gaze quickly returned to Melissa. There was no mistaking the anxiety in her posture, but beyond that, you could see the flicker of something else—determination, excitement, maybe even hope. She was putting herself out there, more than she usually allowed herself to, and that touched you deeply.

Just me and my body, huh?” you teased gently. “That’s quite the invitation, Schemmenti. What’s the occasion?”

Melissa’s face, already flushed, deepened into an even darker shade of red, but there was a spark in her eyes now, a glimmer of resolve. She was nervous, yes, but she had made her decision. “I just thought it was time to switch things up a bit,” she replied, her voice steadier than before, though still laced with vulnerability. “You know, take a leap and maybe… celebrate us.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. This wasn’t just about a dinner; this was about moving forward, about her desire to deepen your relationship. You could see how much this moment mattered to her—the courage it took to say those words, to open herself up to the possibility of rejection, even if that fear was unfounded. You stood up and closed the distance between you. Without hesitation, you wrapped her in a tender hug, your arms encircling her in a protective embrace.

She stiffened for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden display of affection, especially in such a public setting. But as soon as she felt your warmth enveloping her, she relaxed, melting into your arms as if this was exactly where she was meant to be. The proximity, the way you held her so tightly yet so gently, made her realize how deeply she needed this, needed you.

“Baby, that sounds perfect,” you whispered softly, your breath warm against her ear. “I can’t wait for tonight.”

Melissa’s hold on you tightened as she buried her face in the crook of your neck, the anxiety that had gnawed at her all day slowly ebbing away. She pressed a soft kiss to your hair, the gesture filled with such tenderness it made your heart ache. With your bodies pressed together, she could feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against hers, the calming syncopation reminding her that she was exactly where she belonged.

As you held her, you caught a glimpse of Janine and Jacob, who were watching from a distance with proud smiles. Janine gave Jacob a giddy nudge, her spirit high and full of excitement for you both. Even Mr. Johnson, who was still sweeping the cafeteria floor nearby, muttered something about “first love making messes,” though there was a small, almost imperceptible grin on his face.

Eventually, you pulled back just enough to look at her, your hands resting on her arms. “So, what’s on the menu tonight?” you asked, with playful curiosity. “I’m guessing it’s not just spaghetti and meatballs.”

Melissa’s lips twitched, the nervousness in her eyes slowly giving way to something warmer, more confident. “You’ll just have to wait and see,” she said, her voice teasing now. “But I can promise you, it’s going to be unforgettable.”

You grinned at her, the excitement for tonight bubbling up in your chest. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

As you stepped back and returned to your spot, Melissa lingered for a moment, watching you with a cute, almost dreamy expression on her face. The weight of the day’s nerves had finally lifted, replaced by a sense of joy and anticipation. With one last glance at you, she turned and headed back to her classroom, her heart feeling lighter than it had in months.

“You two are seriously the cutest couple ever,” Janine gushed, nudging you with her elbow as she sat back down.

Jacob nodded in agreement, a small, knowing smirk on his face. “She’s a lucky woman.”

You felt your face flush with warmth as you beamed softly, your thoughts already drifting to the evening ahead. “I’m the lucky one,” you murmured, more to yourself than to them.

—

The soft glow of candles flickered across the kitchen, casting gentle shadows that danced on the walls. Melissa had taken great care to set the table just right. The white linen tablecloth was smooth and immaculate, the polished silverware gleamed under the dim light, and delicate crystal glasses sparkled like tiny stars. A simple yet elegant centerpiece—a vase filled with fresh roses—added a touch of romance, their soft petals a gentle reminder of the evening’s purpose.

After a quick shower, Melissa stood in front of her bathroom mirror, wrapped in a thick towel as her reflection stared back at her. She untangled her hair with her fingers, letting the soft waves settle naturally around her shoulders. The evening felt charged with meaning, and as she pulled on a deep green dress that highlighted the rich color of her eyes, she couldn’t shake a sense of anticipation that made her fingers tremble. But before she slipped into the dress, Melissa lingered in her reflection, standing there in her bra and underwear.

Her fingers brushed lightly over the delicate lace of her bra before trailing up to her cross necklace. The small, familiar weight of it rested against her skin, a reminder of her faith and the strength she often sought from it. She gently kissed the cross, her lips touching the cool metal, as if grounding herself. Closing her eyes for a moment, she whispered, “I’ll be okay.” Her voice was steady, a quiet promise to herself. When she opened her eyes again, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She was ready—nervous, yes, but there was an undeniable sense of purpose in the evening that outweighed her fears.

The act of kissing her necklace and reminding herself that she would be okay brought a small but real sense of calm. She unclenched her jaw, letting herself breathe before stepping away from the mirror to pull on the deep green dress she had picked out.

Slipping into the dress, Melissa took one last look at herself, smoothing down the fabric and adjusting the straps. It wasn’t an extravagant gown—just a simple dress that made her feel beautiful in a way that mattered most to her. It hugged her curves in all the right places, the fabric complementing her fiery red hair and highlighting the vibrancy of her eyes. She added a light touch of makeup, just enough to enhance her natural features, before stepping back to admire the final result. A moment of calm settled over her, the flicker of nerves tempered by the reassurance she had given herself.

The house was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of lasagna, garlic, tomatoes, and bubbling cheese coming together in the oven. The familiar, comforting smells filled every corner of the room, making it feel warm, welcoming. Melissa stepped into the kitchen, checking on the lasagna and adjusting the heat, ensuring everything was perfect. The faint sound of the record player drifted in from the living room, where a playlist of your favorite songs played softly, romantic melodies filling the air with warmth and intimacy. Everything was set, and now, all she needed was for you to arrive.

The doorbell rang, cutting through the quiet with a soft chime, and Melissa’s heart skipped a beat. She stood still for a moment, gathering her courage. This evening wasn’t just about the food or the setting—it was about the leap she was taking, the love she wanted to show you. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her dress once more and made her way to the door. As her hand reached for the doorknob, she murmured to herself, “I’ll be okay,” one last time, her fingers briefly touching the cross around her neck.

When she opened the door and saw you standing there, her nerves melted away at the sight of your smile. You looked at her, taking in the beautiful green dress, her soft waves of hair, and the way her eyes shone with a mixture of happiness and vulnerability. There was a beat of silence, the world falling away for a moment as you exchanged a quiet, meaningful look.

“Hey, babe,” you said warmly, stepping forward and pulling her into a gentle hug. You could feel the slight tremble in her body as she relaxed into your embrace, her arms wrapping around you as if she had been waiting for this all day.

“Hey, mia principessa,” she whispered back softly, but there was a strength in it. You could sense how much this night meant to her, how much she wanted it to be special. “Come in. I’ve got everything ready.”

The smell of lasagna welcomed you as you stepped into the cozy warmth of her home. You glanced around, admiring the thoughtful touches—the candlelit table, the vase of roses, the soft music filling the space. It was intimate, and it spoke volumes about the care she had put into this night.

“Lissa, this is beautiful,” you said, turning back to her. “You did all of this?”

Melissa smiled, the nervous energy that had been building inside her easing just a little at your reaction. “Yeah, I wanted to do something special for us.”

You reached out, taking her hand and giving it a gentle peck. “It’s perfect.”

For the first time that evening, your girlfriend felt a deep sense of calm.

You followed Melissa to the dining table, where the soft glow of the candles illuminated the spread before you. The lasagna sat perfectly golden in its dish, steam rising from the surface, and the fresh roses at the center of the table filled the air with their delicate scent. She pulled out a chair for you, her hand brushing against your shoulder as you sat down.

The older woman served the lasagna with careful hands, the utensils clinking against the plates as she handed you your portion. As you took your first bite, the rich flavors of garlic, tomato, and cheese filled your mouth, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes for a second to savor it.

“This is delicious, Mel,” you said, smiling up at her as you set your fork down.

“I’m glad you like it,” she replied sweetly, still carrying that undercurrent of vulnerability that made your heart swell with affection. You could see how much she wanted tonight to be perfect, and it already was. The evening felt like a beautiful, slow unfolding of something deeper, something you both had been moving toward for a long time.

For a while, you ate in companionable silence, the music playing in the background as the evening settled into a comfortable rhythm. Melissa stole glances at you as you ate, and each time your eyes met, she smiled a little more freely. But there was something else too—an sexual tension hanging in the air between you, unspoken but unmistakable. It made every touch and every shared look feel heavier, more charged.

After a while, Melissa set her fork down, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of her wine glass as she spoke, quieter now. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while…” Her eyes lifted to meet yours, and you could see the seriousness in them.

You frowned, sensing the shift in the conversation. “What is it?”

“I’ve been… I’ve been wanting to take the next step with us. I’m ready. For sex.”

The weight of her confession settled between you, and for a second, it felt like the world outside this moment ceased to exist. Your heart skipped a beat, the meaning behind her words sinking in. You knew how much this meant to her, how deeply she felt things, and how careful she was with every step in your relationship. And now, here she was, opening herself up, offering all of her to you in the most vulnerable way possible.

You reached across the table, your fingers finding hers, and she held onto you like she’d been waiting for this connection all night. “Mel,” you began. “I’ve been waiting for you to be ready. I’m here. I’ll always wait for you.”

A soft laugh touched her lips, her thumb brushing over your knuckles as she held your gaze. “I know,” she whispered, and then, as if the moment couldn’t hold itself back any longer, she leaned across the table and kissed you. Her lips were soft, warm, and full of promise. The kiss started gentle, but there was a sense of urgency behind it, a need she had been holding back for too long.

You stood up, gently pulling her with you, and without breaking the kiss, she wrapped her arms around your waist. The closeness felt intoxicating, the room spinning with the scent of roses, the warmth of the candlelight, and the taste of wine still on her lips.

Melissa pulled back slightly. “Come upstairs with me.”

You nodded, unable to speak, the weight of the moment settling in your chest. With her hand in yours, she led you out of the dining room and up the stairs, her grip firm but trembling ever so slightly. The steps felt endless, each one echoing the rapid beating of your heart, but when you reached the bedroom door, everything else faded away. It was just you and her, the world quiet and still, as if this moment had been waiting for you both for a long time.

After going upstairs hand in hand, you enter her bedroom. The environment is spacious and welcoming, with a palette of neutral tones that creates a soft and intimate atmosphere. The walls are painted a light, almost sandy beige, and there are several old photo frames hanging in an elegant pattern. The floor is covered in a large, shaggy rug in a soft brown tone that provides a pleasant contrast to the dark wooden floor.

The center of the room is dominated by a king size bed, covered with sheets and bedding set in beige tones. The pillows and duvet combine in different textures and subtle patterns, creating a feeling of comfort and simplicity.

You lay down on the bed, messing up the bedding set and pillowcases that were still fresh and spotless. Melissa sat on top of you, with her knees on either side of your hips, and began to unbutton the elegant blouse you were wearing. Her movement was careful, almost reverent, as if each blossoming bud revealed not just your skin, but also the vulnerability and trust you were building together.

“I’ve never looked like that,” she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your own in a long kiss that was both hesitant and eager. As her mouth lingered on yours, she noticed the way you slightly shudder beneath her touch, a clear sign of your nervousness. And how anxious you seemed, more so than she felt herself. “You’re trembling.”

Melissa reaches for the lamp, her digits brushing against its switch as she considers dimming the light to make the room more comfortable and less intimidating. But before she can, you reach out to stop her, grabbing her wrist feeling the subtle pulse of her beat beneath your touch.

“No, I want to see you too,” you peel off your blouse, followed by your pants and underwear, letting them fall to the floor in a silent haze.

The older woman gulps and bobs her throat and starts to undress too. Her long green dress fell away in soft folds to the edge of the king size bed, followed by the delicate unfastening of her bra, revealing her full, supple and delicious boobs. Their natural weight makes them sway slightly and her nipples, a dusky rose, stood erect in the cool air. Her panties followed, slipping down her legs to reveal her glistening, damp center with some reddish, slightly trimmed pubic hair above her mound that was a stark contrast to the smooth milky white of her thighs.

For a fleeting second, doubt and insecurity crept in. She wondered if you saw her as beautiful or if the passage of time, with its subtle marks on her skin—fine lines around her eyes and mouth, the gentle curve of age. Arms flaccid and a little droopy, and the fact that she is not completely shaved underneath—might be off-putting. The decades that had shaped her were etched into her form, a testament to experiences and moments lived, but she questioned if they would overshadow the intimacy of the present.

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the side, overwhelmed by the thought of you finding her less than desirable, maybe even disgusting like Joe did when they used to have sex in their marriage years. The idea of her imperfections being too much to bear made her shiver with apprehension, and unexpected tears dropped into her cheeks as those thoughts almost brought her to the brink of crying.

In that vulnerable instant, Melissa searched for any sign of disapproval, any hint that the years might have dimmed her allure. But as your gaze locked with hers, she saw something entirely different—an intense, unspoken admiration, a hunger that seemed to pierce through her insecurities. This recognition of her allure gave her the courage to continue.

“You’re so beautiful, bambina.” She tilted her head, her swollen lips meeting yours again in a passionate kiss that deepened as she felt your response. Your hands roamed over her back, feeling the heat of her skin and the subtle firmness of her muscles. Her auburn hair fell around her shoulders, cascading like a dark waterfall that framed her face and partially covered her chest. The sight of her, disheveled and beautiful, made you catch your oxygen.

Melissa lets her thumbs glide down your abdomen, feeling the softness of your flesh beneath her fingertips while she trails imaginary patterns. That only she can see. She squeezes your breasts gently before she leans in to nip at your earlobe. There’s a hunger in the way she worships you, a need to feel you, to taste you.

She begins to kiss her way down your neck, her lips leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. When she reaches your boobs, she pauses for a moment, her breath ghosting over your nipples before she takes one into her mouth slowly. The feeling sends a shiver down your body, and you can’t help the loud whimper that escapes your lips.

“That feels so good. Don’t stop. Suck harder,” you gasped, unable to contain the fervent need building inside you.

The redhead hums in response, her gaze locked onto yours as she continues to suckle on your hardened peak. There’s something almost reverent in the way she’s looking at you, as though she’s in awe of the effect she’s having on you. Her hair, now tousled and wild, brushed against your skin like a silken curtain. You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of her lips on your sensitive areas, and opened your mouth to draw in deep, steady breaths, trying to ground yourself amidst the swirling sensations.

She traces a slow, deliberate path down your body, her lips grazing the curve of your waist, until she’s almost between your legs. Her hands rest on your thighs, gently urging them apart, and you feel the smirk ghosting over your most intimate area. When she parted your legs, her eyes widened slightly at the sight of your wetness dripping down and the intoxicating smell that made her drool.

“Can I put my mouth on you?”

“Please.”

Melissa’s hands move to your hips, and with a deliberate, almost possessive grip, she pushes you down against the mattress, pinning you in place. The bed creaks softly beneath you, but all you can focus on is the way her mouth hovers just above your aching pussy.

She lowers herself between your thighs, her breath hot against your skin as she leans in, her mouth finally making contact. The first contact of her tongue against your wet folds is electrifying, a shiver running down your spine. She’s never felt anything like this—so raw, so intimate. The sensation of your taste, warm and sweet on her tongue, ignites something deep within her.

The older woman begins to lick through your wetness, her movements grow more confident, more assured. Her face becomes slick with your arousal, but she doesn’t care—if anything, it only drives her to delve deeper, to explore every inch of you with her warm mouth. The soft slurping and suckling sounds she makes while she eats you out, along with guttural groans of satisfaction vibrating against your most sensitive spots muffled against your folds, tell you everything; how much Melissa is enjoying this. Amplifying the pleasure coursing through you. And you can’t help but moan, your fingers tangling in her hair, urging her closer.

“Oh, Lissa…go faster,” you murmur breathy, trying to guide her with gentle encouragement. “Just like that, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

She’s teasing your clit now, her tongue flicking over it teasing it with featherlight strokes that makes your hips buck involuntarily. She seems to be memorizing, learning and responding to your every movement, every sound. You can feel her fingers hovering at your entrance, the pads of her tips brushing teasingly against your folds. The need for more—more of her, more of everything—builds inside you like a tidal wave.

“Fingers. Use them to fill me up.”

Two fingers slide inside you easily, the heat and slickness enveloping her in a way that makes her gasp. The knowledge that she’s the one making you feel this way, that she’s the cause of your pleasure, is almost overwhelming for her. She starts to pump her fingers, slow and deep, crooking them just right to hit that spot that makes you see stars.

“Fuck, hon,” Melissa groans. “You’re so tight… so fucking good.”

“Mhhm.”

The older woman intensifies her pace, her fingers moving faster, deeper, her thumb circling your clit in slow, lazy circles. Her brow furrows in concentration as she continues.

The pressure builds rapidly, and your hips buck against her hand, your need growing more urgent with every passing second. Her eyes stay locked on your face, absorbing each scream and tremor that escapes you, her lips parting slightly as she watches your pleasure build.

“You feel so good,” she murmurs, never letting up the pace. “Are you close?”

Your breath catches, the coil tightening inside you. “I’m so so close, please let me come,” you beg, your voice trembling as you ride the edge.

A flicker of confidence crosses her face as she leans closer, her thumb pressing harder against your clit, her fingers driving deeper. “Cum for me,” she whispers, laced with longing. “I want to feel you, pretty girl.”

That command, spoken so softly but filled with intent, sends you spiraling. With a final, perfect stroke, you fall over the edge, your body arching as the pleasure crashes through you, wave after wave. Your whines grow louder, desperate, as Melissa guides you through the bliss.

She keeps going, drawing out every shudder and whimper until you’re completely undone beneath her. Only then does she slowly withdraw her fingers, leaving you trembling and breathless.

Collapsing against you, her face finds the crook of your neck, her figure trembling with emotion. It takes a moment to realize she’s crying, low sobs muffled against you.

“I did it?” she breaks in disbelief. “I made you feel good… I can’t believe I did it.”

You wrap your arms around her, pulling her close. “You did, baby,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to her hair. “You were perfect.”

Melissa shakes her head slightly, still clinging to you. “I was so scared I’d mess it up… but I did it.”

You gently lift her chin, forcing her to look at you. Her emerald eyes are red and glistening with tears, but the satisfaction you see there only makes your love for her grow stronger. You cup her face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over her cheeks to wipe away the tears.

She lets out a shaky breath, her curvaceous body leaning into yours as if seeking reassurance. Her pink lips brush over yours in a tender, almost desperate kiss. Between soft pecks, you speak against her lips, “You’re safe. I love you. You're safe with me.”

She gives you a small, tearful smile before pressing kisses to your chest, resting her head there as if she never wants to let go.

And you don’t want her to. Not ever.

[traffic-was-a-b1tch]

wrapped around your finger

(jake kiszka x reader) 18+

author’s note: I RECOMMEND NOT READING THE SUMMARY BEFORE READING THIS FIC! if you want to have the full effect of the story, don’t spoil it for yourself! now for those of you who don’t know, along with gvf, I am a huge 5 seconds of summer fan. I wrote this fic based on one of their unreleased songs (my favorite of all time), wrapped around your finger. I recommend reading the fic first and then listening to the song on youtube after. I loveddd the experience of writing this fic because I got to live out the events of the song through my own character and I think that’s always fun! anyway, enjoy the story!

summary: jake takes you out for a night you’ll never forget. but when the morning comes, will he still be the man you thought he was?

warnings: SMUT!, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT UP!), oral (f rec), loss of v card (unknowingly), cursing, theft, angst, arguing, misogyny, underage drinking (I do not condone)

• • •

the clock read 6:37 pm and you were just coming back up to your room after mom’s chicken and rice dinner.

you had to kick a few boxes of pictures to the side on your way up the stairs. the new house was pretty but still unfamiliar. it had only been 4 months since your parents uprooted you from everything you knew and moved the family to california for your dad’s new job. the transition was tough at the beginning, but now was just boring. you had nothing to do. ever.

you plopped down on the edge of your bed that wasn’t covered in papers. you had decided to leave all your homework piled there, too lazy and overwhelmed to continue anymore. if mrs. turner thought that you were gonna finish her set of 50 algebraic expressions by monday, she was on crack. it was friday, damn it. why was everyone being so freaking difficult lately? couldn’t you catch a break? you eyed the pictures displayed on your wall, the contrast and vibrancy made you break into a small smile. you wished you were out taking pictures. you hadn’t got a chance yet, to capture your new city on film. it was calling to you…but so was your notebook and pen. you glared at them, frustrated. you needed something other to do than homework right now, but still you reluctantly grabbed them, starting on the next problem.

you don’t even know how much time had passed while you were scribbling math before you heard the tiny click. perking your ears up, you looked around to see what made the noise. you scanned around you. nothing in your room was out of the ordinary. the closet door was open as well, letting you see clearly that nothing was hiding in it. you suspiciously looked around one more time before going back to your equation.

so, if x equals the equivalent of 172 radical 4…

another click.

you recognized the direction the sound was coming from then, head focusing in on the window near your bed. you waited, wanting to see what was going on. after a few seconds, a pebble came flying up and smacked into the glass.

you got up and walked over to the window, peeking out to see if you could catch a glimpse of the person, at least you hoped it was a person, down below. a shadowed body was barely visible, the face too dark to tell any features.

damn it. you were hoping you wouldn’t have to do this. you were barely dressed in pjs, definitely not for unknown guests, and you had no makeup on.

slowly, you unlocked the window and pulled up, sticking your head out. just then, a rock came hurling up at you fast. you gasped and ducked, the solid circle traveling through the air and into your room. luckily for you, it landed on the carpeted floor so it didn’t make much noise. the last thing you needed was your parents to know someone was outside trying to get your attention this late in the evening.

you hesitantly peeked your head back out, seeing a pair of empty hands waving.

“hey! sorry!” a man’s voice called up, too loud when considering your parents’ keen ears.

“shhh”, you whisper-yelled back, “who’s down there?”

“it’s jake, from english”, he lowered his voice a little, “sorry for being so loud, I just wanted to see what you were doing tonight.”

you were a bit shocked and wondered if you had heard correctly. he wanted to see what you were doing tonight? what did that mean? I mean, you and jake weren’t particularly friends. sure, you saw him in class or the halls and he joked about teachers with you, but you wouldn’t say you two were friends. you definitely weren’t on the “show up at my door after dinner and throw rocks at my window, why don’t you” level. so, you had no clue why he would be here. you knew you didn’t have friends yet, but a childish thought popped in your brain. what if he liked you? no, that’s stupid. you hadn’t ever had much action back home anyway, so to think he liked you already when you had just gotten here was a delusion. but still, the question stood. why was he here?

“well, I was working on mrs. turner’s packet. I’m probably going to try to finish it tonight”, you hesitated, “why? what are you doing here?”

he finally came into view, stepping underneath the light shining from your bedroom. you took him in and became almost speechless. he was clad in dark denim jeans and a cream long-sleeve shirt halfway tucked in, buttoned only up to his nipples, where they would be anyway (you weren’t thinking about his nipples, definitely not), and completed with a ball cap. you had never really saw him like this before, relaxed and rugged. maybe it was just the soft yellow lights from your room that made him look this handsome. definitely the lights.

“well I, uh, was in the area”, he began, “you know, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out?”

what? the hell? you couldn’t help but think that jake being outside your window asking you to hang out was just a cruel joke. or maybe, just maybe, it was fate? what if him being here was for a reason? what if this random hang out with a new classmate would be the best thing for you? the thought ate at your logic-loving brain. you had to tell yourself to shut up.

“um”, you thought for a second, “I’m not exactly dressed to go anywhere.” you laughed a bit awkwardly, looking at your pink rainbow pajama set.

“come on”, he urged, opening his arms out wide, “live a little.”

his words hit you. you hadn’t really had a social life lately, having no real time to get friends or join extracurriculars. you almost gasped when you realized.

you were lame.

sure, you never were the life of the party, even back home. but you wanted to be. you wanted to be the girl that people envied. with this move, you could make cooler decisions and nobody would know better.

“you know what, fine. where are we going?”

he broke out into a grin, “it’s a surprise.”

a twinge of doubt and fear hit your brain but you shook it away. maybe he was right. you needed to live a little.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you changed quickly into a pair of jean shorts and a white t-shirt. grabbing your phone, you sneaked down the stairs, past your parents’ room, and out the door.

you met him in the backyard, his back leaned up against the side of your white house. he seemed a bit taller than you remembered, towering over you.

he smirked, “you ready?”

smiling slyly back, you replied with a nod.

he cocked his head to the side, pointing to the direction you two were going to walk. you followed him, still a bit nervous but powering through. you hated the idea of not being cool enough to do fun, spontaneous things like this. he led you to the road and you started making the trek to wherever you were going.

“soooo”, he put his hands in his pockets, “where did you move from?”

“georgia.”

“ahhh, southern girl huh?”

you laughed, “yeah I guess. not too obvious?”

“nah. I would’ve guessed east coast, but now that I look at you”, he took in your appearance up and down, “you have that southern belle kinda look.”

you rolled your eyes with a smile, “oh really? what about me says southern belle?”

he shrugged, “you look sweet.”

you shut up at that. you weren’t sure why a small compliment from him would shake you up so much, but you couldn’t deny how attracted you were to him.

he chuckled, “what? I can’t say that? ok.” he shook his head with amusement, “you have any plans coming up?”

you shook your head almost immediately and laughed, “I don’t do much.”

he smiled and laughed with you, “well, there’s a party tomorrow night at jenny stewart’s house. I heard it was gonna be fun so i’ll probably go. you should come, it’s at 9.”

you fought the urge to raise your eyebrows in surprise at him. was he really flirting? instead you just nodded and said “maybe.”

he smirked and changed the subject, “so how are you liking santa cruz?”

you reflected on the time you’ve spent here and became underwhelmed. “well, the people are nice”, you slightly tilted your head towards jake, making him smile. “and…I don’t know. I haven’t made many friends yet and kinda get caught up in school, I guess. I haven’t had a chance to really experience everything here.”

“mmm. well, then I guess it was a good thing that you have me tonight.”

he stopped at a crosswalk and grabbed your shoulders. it caught you by surprise, and you tried not to shiver at his touch. “I have a question for you.”

“yes?” you answered a bit too quickly.

jake looked down before making eye contact, “can I have you tonight?” you immediately raised your eyebrows in confusion, and he continued, shaking his head. “can I have your time? show you what is great about this place?”

a small smile tugged at your mouth from his thoughtfulness and you nodded.

“yeah?” his eyes looked hopeful and sweet as he became excited, nearly jumping for joy. he settled a bit before saying, “ok, first things first:”, his eyebrows jumped, “race ya.”

he took off down the crosswalk, the sign still illuminated with a red hand. he was fearless, dodging two cars to make it to the other side. before you could talk yourself out of it, you chased him, nearly screaming when a car honked his horn at you loudly. when you caught up, you pushed him playfully and he laughed heartily. the rest of the walk was about 10 minutes, silence non-existent. he’d managed to get you to open up. you talked about your life in georgia, your old friends, your school. he filled you in on what happened in santa cruz before you. the conversation was easy and fun, flowing freely.

he led you to a mcdonald’s, the golden arches shining above you. this was a bit surprising, as you didn’t exactly picture a mcdonald’s being a particularly important part of santa cruz.

“follow my lead”, he smirked as he pulled the door and went inside.

there were a few employees inside mopping and a couple in the kitchen. jake swaggered up to the register and dinged the bell on the counter in front of him. one of the employees in the kitchen walked over and mindlessly asked what he would like to order.

“two big macs please”, jake said a little too confident, “and two drinks.”

the worker handed you two the cups and left to get the burgers.

“hey”, he whispered in your ear, “get me a coke, will ya? i’m gonna initiate phase 2.”

you looked at him questioning, but he waved you off and you listened. you went to the fountain, filled your cups with soda, and when you turned back around you saw what jake was up to. he was slinking to the part of the store that an employee had just mopped and, because there was no wet floor sign, turned back to you and winked. with one move he flung his head back and pulled his feet up, falling on his back, hard. you put your arm over your mouth to cover your shocked mouth. you started to giggle a bit at what just happened and jake, groaning, jerked his head at you to come over. you got the hint and gasped before setting the drinks down and rushing over to him.

“oh my gosh! are you ok?” you rubbed his arm as he twisted and turned in mock pain.

“oh no! no, no, no! I am not ok! who would have known that they were mopping there? there was no sign! oh, my back! having no sign for a slippery floor is so dangerous for your customers!”

you nodded and then shook your head, “so dangerous!”

by this time, all the employees had stopped to see this and the manager had come out to see what was going on.

the manager rubbed his bald head as he took in the scene and asked, “are you ok, sir?”

“no”, jake answered, “i’m not ok! I got hurt because of your negligence! i’m gonna sue!” jake crossed his arms and you followed, trying to seem genuinely mad.

“well, don’t do that!”, the manager bent to help jake up as he chuckled uncomfortably. “we can offer you coupons or free food or-“

jake, standing with a stuck up look on his face, cut him off, “I would imagine that my meal today is free!” he thought for a second. “in fact, I would like additional food to help with”, he fought back giggles, “my healing.”

“of course, of course”, the manager snapped his fingers at the employees. “whatever you need, sir!”

you two proceeded to order just about everything on the menu.

“…and two mcflurry’s”, you added at the end. out of the corner of your eye you saw jake smile at you, full of an emotion but you weren’t sure which it was.

only a few minutes later, all your food was in bags and you were walking out the door with too much to carry and zero money lost. as soon as you two were out the door and around the corner, you started laughing hysterically.

“when you- I didn’t know that you would- that was-“, you laughed.

he did too, smiling at you and then doing something unexpected: he put his arm around you. you tried not to let it phase you, clutching the food a bit tighter, but you loved the weight of his arm around your shoulder.

“you know, i’m surprised that you got into it as much as you did. you don’t seem like a troublemaker.”

you rolled your eyes, “well, i’ve never done that before, that’s for sure. but, I don’t mind a bit of trouble.”

he smirked at you, impressed, “good. we’re gonna get in way more trouble tonight, just wait.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you eventually turned a few corners and reached a big chain link fence. you couldn’t see what was beyond it very well, as there were quite a few buildings blocking your view.

he grabbed the bottom corner of the chain, which had been cut, and pulled it back. he looked back at you with a grin, “you ready?”

you couldn’t really believe you were about to follow a cute boy you didn’t know, who you talked to about your past and robbed a mcdonald’s with, through a cut fence to a unknown place.

you laughed a bit through your words at the absurdity of the situation, “yeah, I am.”

he offered his hand, his eyes hopeful. it occurred to you then that you were definitely going to take his hand. you couldn’t stop the night, too far in to quit now. even if you could, there was no part of you that would decline. you were his for the night.

you accepted his hand and he smiled. he bent down, squeezing himself through before helping you, the sharp edges around you catching on your clothes. you ease out and grab the food that you left on the other side. once you were all together, he stopped you before you could move.

“ok, do you know where we are?”

you looked around yourself breifly before answering, “nope.”

“good. i’m gonna go do something really quick and I need you to stay here.”

you nodded, a little sad he was leaving you.

“promise?” his eyes searched your face for sincerity.

“I promise.” you smiled and fought the urge to tell him that you wanted to promise your life to him. you kept all your thoughts inside as he grabbed the food and raced away through the alley of the building.

you shook at your thoughts, “ugh! stop it! you don’t know this guy! you need to stop before you embarrass yourself.” you took a deep breath, closing your eyes to center yourself. opening them back up, you saw jake coming back through the alley. his sleeves were rolled up and his ball cap had turned around, now facing backwards as he jogged up to meet you. you nearly passed out. what was it you said about not embarrassing yourself…

“you ready?” he pulled you out of your trance and you had to remember to answer.

nodding, you watched his body get behind you and place his strong hands over your eyes.

“ok, we’re gonna walk forward, but go slow.” his voice was right on your ear, low and raspy. you could barely concentrate, but you put one foot in front of the other and walked.

he led you through the alley, and from there you had no idea where you were. you relied on him to guide you, leaning back on him a bit. you almost tripped over a rock of some kind, letting out a funny scream-like noise. he chuckled in your ear behind you, making you almost shiver at his voice. god, this was getting hard.

“and… stop.”

finally, he pulled you back and stopped walking. he kept his hands over you eyes as he talked.

“before I show you, what do you hear?”

you listened closely.

“wind.”

“good”, he praised and you tried not to smile. “what do you smell?”

you sniffed the air, slowly.

“um”, you giggled at your answer, “fishy air?”

he laughed deeply in your ear, “good. now, what can you taste?”

you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out a little.

“hmmm, salt?”

“very good. now, are you ready to see?”

“for goodness sake, jake, we’ve been walking forever and I played your games, I think i’m ready-“ you tugged his hands off your eyes and lost all your words as you took in where you were.

the beach was beautiful under the moonlight, lighting up the waves as they crashed and sprayed. the water met the sand in a beautiful blue-tinted dark spot, and a few feet in front of it lied a blanket and our mcdonald’s bags. it was a picnic on the beach under the moon. you wanted someone to pinch you.

“jake- I-“, you couldn’t find the words if you tried.

“do you like it?”, his voice hopeful while his fingers grazed your arms lightly, his presence ever comforting behind you.

you looked back at him, “I love it.”

he grinned and grabbed your hand, leading you to the picnic.

“where did you find a blanket here?”

he smiled fondly, as if at memories you had brought up with your question. “my family used to come here all the time, so I always loved it. now that, you know, i’m grown and we don’t go out much, I come by myself. I keep a blanket in one of those lockers over there, just in case.” he pointed to a wall of lockers for people to stow their belongings while at the beach.

“and what about…“, you answered your own question by turning around and seeing what the buildings blocking your view of the beach were. “suites and private beach houses? wow, people have money.”

he laughed and helped you sit down on the blanket, fingers accidentally brushing your lower back. you locked eyes at the touch, dangerously fast, and you looked away before anyone could say anything. if you would’ve stared into his eyes for just a second longer, who knows would’ve happened.

finally, you both sat and got comfortable on the blanket over the squishy sand. he frowned, sighed, and shook his head.

your eyebrows furrowed at his actions, “what?”

he sighed again and made eye contact, “i’m just-“. he contemplated his words, looking up into the sky and then dropping his head to the sand before looking back at you. “i’m just really…”, his eyes danced around your face as he leant in, almost unaware he was doing so. it seemed like he was being pulled towards you, and you back to him. you followed his lead and leant in a little. he licked his lips, smiled sheepishly, and pulled away. “i’m just really hungry.”

you both nodded fast and you tried to shake the memory from your head. giving him a sweet smile, you grabbed a big mac out of the bag.

you two ate and talked for a good hour. half of the humongous bags were empty and there was nothing but happiness radiating from your spot on the beach. he had found himself on his elbows laying back, and you on one elbow looking down at him. he was so fucking charming. and it was going to be the death of you. you laughed at his horrible jokes and he smiled up at you, putting a fry between his teeth. you tried your best not to stutter or lose your train of thought, but it was so hard with him. he was just- perfect. and that was a dangerous thought.

“so”, you began after catching your breath from the joke, “what do you want to do? in life, I mean.”

he thought for a second, his head moving side to side. “realistically? or my dream?”

you smiled, “your dream.”

he grinned back, “musician.”

you rolled your eyes, laughing, “is that why I always see you playing that sg?”

his brows furrowed as a questioning look donned his face. “you see me play? when?”

your face blushed a bit, realizing how creepy the next sentence was going to sound. “after lunch. my next class is- well- when I leave- I pass the music hall on the way to my health class.”

he smiled at your embarrassment. “and you spy on me?”

“no! no, of course not! I just- see you through the window,” you backtracked, “like because it’s really big and I just catch a glimpse. I don’t watch you or anything-“

he threw his head back and laughed. you grunt in frustration, nothing you say making the situation sound less weird.

“it’s ok, it’s ok”, he fought to stop laughing, “I know you weren’t being creepy.” then, he raised an eyebrow at you. “wait, how did you know it was an sg?”

you shook your head, “my dad is a collector. it’s dumb but he always made me go with him to look in the vintage shops.”

jake smirked, “impressive.”

you shrugged, “I don’t know about that.”

he eyed you, “what about you? what’s your dream?”

you felt yourself get bubbly just thinking about it, a smile creeping on your lips. “a photographer.”

his eyes got bright, “pictures, huh? take one of me right now!” he stood, kicking up a bit of sand as he did, and struck a pirate-like pose.

you laughed and grabbed your phone, lining up the lighting and snapping a few shots.

he sat back down and urged you to show him, laughing at the situation. when you did, the joking left his face and was replaced by an expression of amazement and confusion.

“fuck, these are actually really good.” he looked up at you, “how did you get the shadows and highlights with just a phone camera?”

you shrugged, “i’m always just taking the picture by feeling. I get inspired and then it always just leads me to the perfect shot.”

he shook his head, still surprised at the quality, “this is perfect, don’t you realize? you could take pictures at my concerts!”

you laughed and nodded, “sure, jake.”

“i’m serious! you said you need inspiration and my music, especially the guitar solos, will definitely inspire you.” he tilted his head back and added, “plus I look super sexy when I play.”

you wanted to laugh, to play it off, but you didn’t want to admit how much that image was affecting you. you just decided to roll your eyes and shake your head, pushing the thought away.

“promise! say that you’ll be my personal photographer!” his enthusiasm was hard to turn down.

giggling, you agreed, “fine. but no nudes.”

he busted out laughing and shoved you.

after the laughs subsided, there was silence for the first time in the night, both of you too caught up in the eyes of the other. the tension was dangerous, waiting to erupt. still, there was a question still eating at you.

“jake?”

“yeah?”

“why this tonight? why me and the beach? why are you doing this?”

jake studied you, eyes drifting up and down your body. he motioned for you to come closer, his breath tickling your ear, “why not?”

you slowly turned your face to his, not backing up. you were eye to eye, foreheads almost touching and lips just inches from each other.

you broke the trance by placing a finger on his lips and pushing him backward. “race ya”, you challenged and took off towards the beach.

you heard him laugh from behind you, getting closer. you were about ankle deep in the water when he grabbed you around your stomach from behind, lifting you up and spinning you. water splashed up on both of you, drenching your clothes. giggles plagued both of you as he spun and then set you down.

you turned and saw his face…and you don’t think you’ve ever been the same since.

he was smiling, big. his hat had flown off in the run, the wind blowing his shirt open. his hair was flowing messily and his skin almost glowing in the moonlight. he was perfect. so amazing that you couldn’t find words to describe it. you hoped right then and there that this would last forever. you weren’t sure you’d ever get him out of your brain.

it was then you realized that your shirt had been soaked by the ocean, the white cloth sticking to the curves of your torso and becoming see-through. you looked down to see your light gray bra showing through, and looked back up to see jake’s smile gone. it was replaced with a look of deep desire. his mouth slightly parted, his eyes locked on your wet body. you stared at each other for a minute, your salty hair whipping at your face.

he came close, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear, his hand resting on the side of your face. he leaned closer and nudged your noses, almost asking permission.

“jake…”, you trailed, begging him to keep going.

he came in so close that your lips were grazing each other, pausing just a second before closing the painful gap. he kissed you softly, and you sighed into it.

you knew then.

it didn’t matter anymore.

it doesn’t matter what else happens or doesn’t happen tonight.

you were his.

the connection was complete.

after a few seconds of sweetness, you kiss him harder. his hands find your waist, pulling you into his body. your hands hold his face on yours, slightly in his hair. he continues to kiss you deeply, hands roaming to your ass and then your legs, picking them up so he could carry you back to the blanket.

he made haste, nearly tripping from the sand on the way, making you squeal. he laid you down on the blanket gently, you legs wrapping around his waist naturally. you both giggled at the position you had found yourselves in, feeling the excitement and adrenaline. you could feel his hands shaking as they trailed up and down your sides. the kisses grew hungrier, both of you getting impatient. he disconnected your lips and sat back, panting. you watched from your laid position as he unbuttoned whatever was left of his shirt and shouldered it off. then he bent back down and lifted the edge of the shirt sticking to your stomach, pulling it up and over your head. your bra was removed shortly after, being tossed to the side. your chest laid bare in front of him, his breathing shook as he whispered under his breath, “you’re fucking gorgeous.” with that, he kissed you hard again, hands slowly cupping your breasts. you moaned softly in his mouth and it was obviously too much for him to handle, as he immediately fumbled for your jean shorts’ button. he undid them and tugged them off fast, throwing them to the side. he groaned as he took you in, only clad in your underwear. it was a white thong decorated with cherries and jake laughed when he saw it.

“cherries?” he smirked as he began to kiss his way down your chest, licking your nipple. you gasped and moaned as he continued down your stomach and reached the top of the thong.

he smirked and looked up at you. god, what a sight that was. his hair messed, his eyes dark and mischievous. he looked up at you like you were something to eat. and god, you hoped he had an appetite. “I wonder if you taste like cherries, too?”

you were speechless as his fingers hooked into them, inching them down and tossing them over his shoulder. automatically, your legs came together at the brisk air on your private parts.

“ah, come on baby”, he shook his head, “let me see her.”

he made eye contact with you and bit his lip as he placed each of his hands on your knees, prying them apart slowly. his eyes flicked down to your center and he took a throaty breath before he dipped his head down between your legs. hooking his arms around your thighs, he looked at you before lowering his face down and licking a long stripe up your core.

you moaned and threw your head back as he licked and sucked, already feeling like it was too good.

“fuck, you do taste like cherries”, he smirked, licking his lips, before diving back in. he teased you, going fast and then slow.

“jake, please”, you begged.

“what baby? use your words, honey.”

he stopped teasing and made out with you, only taking breaths to kiss your inner thigh. you squirmed and whimpered, his grip just getting tighter. your hands tangled in his hair and pulled, causing him to grunt and flick his tongue over you faster.

“jake- too much. I can’t-“, you pleaded.

“you can. you will.” he said it as a promise, like he had already made up his mind about it.

jake went faster, harder. he was making true on that promise. you felt your muscles tighten and your mouth fell open. you screamed as the orgasm hit you. he continued for just a minute more, working you through the rest of it, until you started to run from the overstimulation. he pulled back and admired the mess you made.

“fuck, cherry”, he panted, smiled, and came up to kiss you. “I almost couldn’t stop.”

you moaned as he kissed you, beginning to feel something hard and hot on your thigh. you gasped breathlessly, his bulge evidently turning you on. you reached down and touched him through his jeans. you didn’t even use much pressure and he was already groaning. too worked up for his own good, he tugged down his pants, and you couldn’t help but run your hands across his toned chest. as he removed his underwear, you sucked a small hickey into his neck as a little memento to remember your first time together. you were certain that this wouldn’t be the last.

jake finally got fully naked, lining himself up with you. your eyes met and he slowly started to push into you. he sighed in relief, like he was returning to his home inside your body. the stretch was painful at first, as he wasn’t small by any means, but when he started to move the pain went away. it felt so good. too good.

“fuck, baby. you’re gonna be the death of me.” he moved slowly, all the way in and almost all the way out.

the sensation was unlike anything you’d ever felt, the pleasure taking over your brain and making you a mindless zombie.

“jake, oh my-“, you couldn’t even finish, cut off by a powerful thrust that hit a spot in you that you didn’t know existed.

“I know, baby. give it to me.”

the rhythm got faster, fueled by the pleasure radiating from both of you. soon, he was fucking you hard. the sound of slapping skin and moans mixed with the background noise of waves crashing against the sand was intoxicating.

“oh fuck, baby. are you close?” he was falling apart, evident by the squeak in his voice.

“yes! fuck, jake!” you could barely get the words out, too caught up in the feeling. the warm buildup started in your belly and you knew it wouldn’t be long. his grunts became faster and louder as he pummeled into you as hard as he could. he looked you in the eyes and moaned your name loudly, like he didn’t care who heard him.

“jake…”, you groaned, feeling the buildup get to the edge.

“oh, fuck. me too. show me, baby. show me how good you feel. cum for me.” he groaned at the thought of you falling apart on him.

you did as he said. moments later, you felt like you were engulfed by a wave of pleasure so intense you shook. you never broke eye contact as you moaned his name and squeezed his dick like a vice.

“fuck-“, he came with a groan. he shuddered and panted as he painted your walls. his eyes drifted away and he hung his head in the crook of your neck.

still inside you, he whispered in your ear, “you’re so amazing.”

you felt a smile creep on your face as you scoffed lovingly. he brought himself back up to look at you, brushing a piece of your hair away from your face. the smiles on both your faces were sweet and sappy, taking in the warmth.

you wished that this moment would never end. this right here? this was heaven. in jake’s arms, on the beach, orgasm haze washing over you both. it was all you’d ever want, you were sure of it. all you’d ever want is him.

he pulled out, hissing at the feeling, and tearing you away from your thoughts. “so, let’s get you cleaned up then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

he used a napkin from the food bag to clean you off and then you both got dressed. pulling on your shirt, you saw jake glance at his phone.

“oh shit. it’s 12:06 in the morning. I gotta get home.”

“oh”, you tried to hide your disappointment, “that’s ok. I probably should too.” you smiled, walking over and pulling him into a hug, and he smiled back.

the walk back to your house took almost 30 minutes but you welcomed the time, dreading the moment he’d have to leave. you talked the whole way back, laughing about the night and things that happened at school lately. you held hands, swinging them like elementary schoolers with their first boyfriend.

you reached your house and turned to face him, sad. “I don’t want you to go.”

a small, empathetic smile tugged at his lips as he pushed you back towards your home. “go. you don’t want your parents to wake up and find you gone, now do you?”

you looked him in his dark brown eyes and wished you could tell him that all you wanted was a hug from him. all you want is a life with him. he became all you wanted within a few hours, sweeping you off your feet instantly. you needed him.

but all you could manage to say was, “ok.”

you kissed him one more time, softly. he smiled and kissed your back, his hand coming around to grab your ass. you squealed and pushed him away.

“stop it! my parents are like a foot away.”

he laughed, “fine. i’ll see you around.”

and with that, he turned and walked away. you figured you should do the same too, backing up slowly. you got to your front door and turned back to look at him. you hoped to see him looking back at you, but he was gone. frowning, you slipped inside. quietly, you made it to your bedroom and sat on your bed.

holy fuck. what just happened? this was the greatest night of your life.

you tore off your still-wet clothes and grabbed a towel before running to the bathroom to shower. the warm water ran down your body, washing away the sand and salt. you could still feel his hands on you, and you smiled at the reminder. when you were done washing your face, you went back to your bedroom.

you gasped when you stepped on something unexpected, but then smiled when you realized what it was. it was the rock from earlier tonight; the one jake threw. you smiled and picked it up, putting it on your dresser next to your favorite pictures. it was now going to be displayed with your favorite things. when you laid down, the comfortable bed swallowed you up as you thought about the night. about him. about jake.

you smiled and yawned, the happy memories and warm sheets lulling you to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you woke up the next day sore. you sat up and stretched, but your mind started to wander and soon you remembered the fun of last night. it filled your heart with happiness and all you wanted to do was see him again. but, in the haze of the night, you never exchanged numbers.

that’s when it occurred to you. jenny stewart’s party. he said it would be tonight at 9 and he’d probably be there. you almost patted yourself on the back for remembering. you looked over to your clock and almost screamed when you saw that it was noon. you slept late. too late. it was time to start preparing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you had jumped in the shower again, and this time it was an everything shower.

you washed and conditioned your hair thoroughly, did full skincare, exfoliated, and shaved everything. like everything, everything. when you got out, you wiped your hand on the foggy mirror and brushed your teeth to finish the routine.

you ran to your room and started picking out something to wear. you started by grabbing a lacy, black matching set. last night you weren’t prepared, but tonight you would be. you put them on, the black bra pushing your tits up perfectly. the lacy panties left nothing to the imagination, but that was the point. next, you turned to your closet to find a dress. this would probably take a while.

it took a good minute of searching before you found what you were looking for. it was a black dress covered with cherries. how perfect. you thought about how he’d love the subtle callback to last night’s events and giggled. you put everything on and smiled at how you looked. he was gonna love it.

next was makeup. you did a subtle look, swiping a bit of sparkle on your eye and blush on your cheek. the mascara you used made your eyelashes 10x longer and you batted them at yourself in the mirror. you added a bit of sparkly gloss as a finishing touch. you felt like a little girl, giddy to see your crush.

by the time you were finished with everything and put on comfortable shoes, it was time to go. you said bye to your parents, saying you were going to a study group with friends. you tried not to feel upset when they raised their eyebrows at you having friends, and just ran out the door.

the walk there would only be a few minutes because jenny lived in the neighborhood next to yours. you checked your phone and saw that you were gonna be a few minutes late, but that was ok.

as you walked up to her house, you saw that the party was in full swing. there were people in the yard and on her wrap-around porch, already tipsy and talking. you excused yourself by them and made your way up the steps and to the door. the music bumped inside the house, rap being played out of a speaker. you walked into her house and saw you were in the kitchen. jenny’s house was big and very nice, but it was a mess from the party. there was beer bottles everywhere, liquor spilt here and there, and tortilla chips spilling out of bowls. the granite island in the middle of the kitchen had all the booze on top of it, and you realized then that you had never really been to a high school party. not a real one anyway. the only party you were used to going to had punch and a piñata. this was a real party.

you decided to keep your focus on finding jake, looking around the room. you tried to make your way to the living room, accidentally bumping into a very drunk jenny stewart.

“heyyyyyyy girl!” she slurred her words and waved at you.

“hey, jenny”, you tried not to laugh at her state, “have you seen jake?”

“jake kiszka? yeah he’s here.” she almost turned away before she whipped back around and grabbed your arm, “wait. whyyyy?”, she said in a flirty tone. “are you guys togetherrrr?”, she smirked.

you blushed and looked down, “I mean, kinda.”

“shut upppp! go get him, girl!” with that, she pushed you towards the living room.

you laughed and continued on, smiling as you came into the living room. but as soon as you saw him, your smile disappeared.

there he was, dressed in a hot black t-shirt and jeans, leaning against the stairs with a drink in his hand. and next to him was a girl. her dark black hair fell down her back and contrasted with her fair skin. she had on a red bra-like top and the shortest shorts known to man.

they were laughing. talking. why was she making him laugh so much? her hand was on his bicep and his hand on her waist.

you walked over slowly, mouth still slightly open in shock. when he caught a glimpse of you, his eyes went wide and he excused himself from the girl, coming over to you.

“what are you doing here?” his tone was annoyed, impatient.

“um, what? what am I doing here? first of all, you invited me!”

he rolled his eyes, “I didn’t think you’d actually come. it took a army to get you out of your house the first time.”

you scoffed at his rudeness but kept going, “well second of all, what the fuck are you doing?”

“what do you mean, ‘what am I doing’? i’m at a party, having fun.”

you’re eyes got wide and your voice got louder, almost able to be heard by others over the music, “you’re with someone else! what the fuck?”

he put his hand over your mouth and backed you into a corner where nobody would see you, “shut the fuck up. damn, do you ever stop talking? what? you act like we got married last night.”

your eyes glossed over with hurt as you ripped his hand from your mouth and spoke, “what? so nothing that happened last night means anything to you?”

he laughed and rolled his eyes again, “oh my god! it wasn’t that big of a deal. it was one night. yeah, we had fun. but I thought you knew it was just that: fun. you act like we said ‘I love you’ or some shit.” he took a swig of his beer.

you felt stupid. he was making you feel like last night was all in your head. the tears started to fall on their own and you couldn’t stop staring at him in disbelief.

he sighed, “oh, now you’re fucking crying? grow up, (y/n). we’re in high school. what did you think? we were gonna go run away together, get married, have kids, and live in the florida keys?” he scoffed, “you’re pathetic.”

you wiped your tears quickly and made eye contact again, “no, I didn’t think we were gonna get married”, that was a lie that hurt your heart to say, “but fuck, jake! we had sex on a beach and now you’re here flirting with some other girl like I don’t mean anything to you?”

“it’s just sex! fuck, you are so sappy!”

“you took my virginity, jake! what am I supposed to do? pretend like it never happened because you want to fuck some other girl?” the tears started again, and it was getting harder to hold them back.

he threw his hands up like he was innocent, “hey, don’t blame that shit on me! I didn’t know you were a virgin! you didn’t tell me shit.”

“so it was all about sex?! so if you knew I was a virgin, you would’ve never taken me out?” your shook your head, hoping you were wrong.

“no, I wouldn’t have”, he scoffed and said it like it was obvious, then he turned and ran his hand through his hair muttering, “this is such bullshit.”

you couldn’t help the disgust and shock plastered on your face as you took him in. this was a new person. this wasn’t the man you knew last night. maybe it was because he was drunk, or maybe you were just a fool all along, believing his lies. you dropped your head and took a shuddering breath.

“so, you don’t want me?”

he turned back to you and you looked back up. he sighed at your face, covered in tears, like it was annoying to see you like this, like you were a rock at the bottom of his shoe.

“no, I don’t want you. I wanted you last night, and so I had you. don’t make this a thing, ok? normal girls know that when a guy shows up at their house at night asking to ‘hang out’, it means he wants to hook up.” he took a breath, “I guess you just thought I was asking you out so we could lay in a flower field naming the stars and counting the constellations”, he laughed at you, “don’t get me wrong, the sex was good but that’s all it was. now, we’re done.”

that was it. the truth. the truth you never wanted to know. you didn’t know what else to say to him, but you knew you had to say something.

“ok.”

he raised his eyebrows, “ok? you’re done crying?” he sighed, “alright, i’ll see you around.” he walked away, drinking more of his beer, and returned to the box-dye-black-haired girl.

you moved on autopilot, leading yourself out of the room and back into the kitchen with the loud rap playing. passing by the liquor island, you grabbed a big bottle of malibu and continued outside. the party was still going, people making out and talking everywhere. you found the porch stairs and sat down, opening the rum and chugging a good amount. you sat there, drinking and staring out into the moonlight for a long time. you could still feel his hands on you, and you shivered. it was now such an unhappy memory. when the malibu was about half gone, you pulled out your phone. you went to your camera app and looked at the pictures from last night. they started with the one of jake striking a pose right after he learned you wanted to be a photographer. you laughed at the memory and took another drink of the malibu. you swiped and found a bunch of pictures that you had took while you two were laying on the beach, right after you were done having sex. they started with you two smiling, then another of him kissing your cheek, then another of you kissing passionately.

“you can’t tell me that wasn’t real”, you muttered to yourself, looking at the picture and taking a swig of rum.

“boy problems?”

a girl’s voice startled you as she walked up to you from behind.

“yeah.” it was all you could say, the tears already welling up again. you turned off your phone, not being able to look at the happy faces anymore.

she sighed and sat down next to you, “I know that feeling. happened to me a year ago.”

“really?” you looked over. she was so pretty. her brown skin and hair fit well with her marbled glasses frames. she was dressed in a polka dot t-shirt and jeans with a headband taming her curls.

“yeah, some guy I met from a different school. you don’t even want to know what happened.”

you looked at her empathetically and handed her the bottle.

“thanks”, she took a drink and turned to you, smiling. “i’m kate.”

“(y/n). it’s nice to meet another girl who can relate.”

“oh yeah”, she sighed, “I definitely can. so, who’s the guy?”

you hesitated at first, but then thought: what did you have to lose by telling her?

“a guy named jake.”

she gasped, “wait. kiszka?”

you nodded and took another drink.

“that’s the guy who broke my heart a year ago.”

you nearly spit out your gulp of rum. “what? he dated you?”

she rolled her eyes, “yeah, well I wouldn’t call it dating. it was one night. a glorious night on the beach.”

you went still but stayed silent. of course. of course, it was all a prepared night. it was a routine he did to make girls put out and then leave them high and dry.

“I know that’s what happened to you, too. i’ve heard it’s what he does.” she shrugged and took the drink from you, downing some more. she looked over at you and smiled softly, “i’ll help you get over him; I don’t have many friends anyway. we can go get slurpies and sour candy and go watch step brothers at my house.”

you laughed and nodded, laying your head on her shoulder, “that sounds great.”

a silence fell over you, only the faint sound of music and breathing audible.

“it feels like i’m never gonna be alright.” you were such a fool for him. you let him build you up just to tear you down. you hated how much you still wanted him, after everything.

“yes, you will. believe me, it takes time but you get there eventually. until then you just have to deal with it: being wrapped around his finger.”

• • •

THE END.

this one took forever to write (purely because i’m lazy and took so many long breaks lmao) but it’s so rewarding to see it finished! please let me know if you liked this one and what you would like to see next! love you guys so so so much! 💓

(comment under this post to be added to my overall tag list because I just realized I don’t have an overall tag list lol :))

[brokenhardies]

*sigh* was reminded why i was on hiatus. if you post hate in the main tag you deserve to be fucking shot in the street/hj

[fallowfield]

had a very my little pony dream and it produced??? lore???? for the au im working on??????

[justanotherbirdbrain-blog]

A Workshop for Creating Magical/ Fictional Crystals: A Guide from a Geologist

Hi folks, its me, here to talk about fictional writing again! Today I'm just tackling the idea of magical stones/mana stones by looking at existing minerals today and some neat properties that they have, and how you can apply these things to a fictional world. The goal is mainly to help you if you are stuck trying to come up with a unique magic system, or a unique identification/characteristic of your mineral.

First Things First: Mineral Shapes

I am exhausted, petered out, down-right fatigued by seeing every mineral depicted with having the crystal structure of calcite and quartz. There are soooooo many cooler, more interesting crystal structures, don't you think you would stop and take a look at a perfect cube in nature? It is completely unsettling.

Second: Color

Color within minerals can either be really important, or not important at all! It is your choice to decide if color is going to be something that means something to your mineral. But what are some times when the color is important? Well.... there are some elements that are called chromophores, this classification just indicates that these elements, when present, will determine the color of whatever they are in. So, if you wanted to treat mana like a chromophore, you could say, "Oh everything that contains mana turns green!" This could mean that regardless of the mineral, if that mineral is a specific color, it means it contains mana. This concept is exciting because you can just stop here and use minerals that already exist! You can also use it as an indicator for a magical ore! Chromophores are typically metals, so if you are making a new metal weapon, making the ore of that metal a unique color would make a lot of sense!

However, your mineral can also just be every color of the rainbow like quartz and perhaps that's what makes identifying your mana stones elusive and create an illusion of scarcity that your character can solve.

There are other things that can change the colors of minerals, like radiation damage, and electron exchange, but I think that is beyond what would be helpful! So lets talk about some unique color properties that happen in nature that seem magical in the first place! Maybe you don't need to design a mana stone, but you want a unique gemstone that only the royal family passes down or something (IDK).

The first one is the alexandrite effect! This is where a mineral can change color in natural light vs. incandescent light. (the mineral itself is not changing, but the lights contain different amounts of different colors that then get absorbed by the stone). Even if you don't use electricity in your fictional world, you could have the colors change in the presence of light magic. This could create fun misunderstandings about what the mineral is reacting to!

Pleochroism

Pleochroism is something that most minerals have, it is frequently used to help identify minerals in thin sections, however minerals are usually not pleochroic enough for it to be visible to the naked eye! Pleochroism is just a fancy name to describe the change in how light is absorbed based on the angle of the mineral! So if you scroll up to the first image where I showed a lot of crystal shapes, most of them have angles where they are longer and shorter! This will effect the way light travels in the crystal. Tanzanite is a popular mineral that does this.

Photochromism

This is when a mineral will change color (in a reversible way) when exposed to UV light (or sunlight), I am not going to go too into the details of why this is happening because it would require me to read some research papers and I just don't feel like it. The mineral that is best known for this is Hackmanite!

Alright! These are all the really cool color effects that might inspire you or maybe not, but now I am going to talk about how you might find your minerals within a rock!

When I see a lot of magical caves/mines, typically I see them with some variation of a geode honestly, but most minerals are not found like that! Now I am sure most of you guys have seen a geode, so I will not really talk about those, but I will talk briefly about porphyroblasts which is when the mineral grows larger than the minerals around it, this happens in metamorphic minerals!

sorry random stranger, but this is an image of garnets inside a finer-grained rock at gore mountain in New York!

Another way you might find minerals is in a pegmatite! This is when all minerals are really large! This is a formed from really slow crystalizing magma!

But something else to think about is that your mineral might just be massive, it doesn't have to have distinct crystals, it may be similar to jadeite where small grains grow together which leaves it looking smooth and seamless! A note about all of these is that you would have to mine into the rock to find these, there would not be any natural caves in these rocks! Caves are only ever really formed in limestones and maybe marbles (rocks that react with acid).

How can your characters identify these minerals?

Typically when you are out in the field you will look to see what type of rocks the minerals are found in (The overall texture of the rock will tell you how it formed). If you know how the rock formed, it will narrow down the amount of minerals you need to think about by quite a bit! Next, you are going to look closely at it and observe its crystal structure, does it have an obvious crystal? if so what is the general shape? If it is broken, how did it break? Did it fracture like glass or did it break along uniform planes. Some minerals have a thing called cleavage (breaks along planes of weakness). If a mineral exhibits this habit, it will again help narrow this down. Next we can look at color. Color can be misleading, because minerals like quartz can be any color imaginable, but minerals like olivine will always be green! The next thing your character can do is test for hardness, minerals all have a specific hardness that can help identify it as well.

After you go through all of this, your mineral might have some special property! This could be magnetism, fluorescence, reactions to acid, or any of the color changing effects I mentioned above! Other than that, your character can take it back to a lab and do a number of things to identify it, but the most typical thing would be for them to make a thin section (very thin piece of the rock) and observe it under a cross polarized microscope!

On that note folks! I hope this helped in some way in thinking of new magic mineral properties! I have other guides that explore some different fictional worldbuilding issues you might run into, but if you have any topics you would like me to cover please that I haven't mentioned already, let me know!

[tanaor]

Want simple tips to heavily improve your skills with character voice??

(📝Note: character voice is the way you convey your character's personality though their pov or dialogue when you write. No two characters speak the same📝)

I speak from experience when I say character voice is hard to get right. Characters, like people, have lots of layers that affect the way they see the world around them and how they interact with other characters. That's why character voice is so important in stories, and why if you write it in a compelling and effective way it will hook people into your story. I hope you learn something new in this post!!

When writing character voice, there's a list of things that you should take into account:

Where are they from? Their past and what they've lived plays a huge part in character voice. Maybe your character grew by the ocean, and so they compare things from the present to the beach, the rocks or the sea itself. You will rarely read about a sailor that is an expert in pants and compares scents to flowers. They might, instead, talk about how a house smells like the wet wood of a ship.

Think about how their personality shapes their language. If they are insecure, they might end most of their sentences with "isn't it?" or "right?" and ask a lot of questions, whereas if you have a confident character, you might find them saying things like "we should do this" or "that will be fun" instead.

What their "lense" is. This is more of an ethic aspect of the character. What have they learn it's okay, and what do they find uncomfortable? Would they find it gross if their friend left laundry on the floor?

Give them special traits (both for dialogue and narration). Maybe character A quotes a lot when they narrate and uses long paragraphs, or maybe B speaks about their past a lot and uses popular sayings. Personally, one character of mine has the tendency to repeat himself when he speaks, as in "yeah, yeah, I'll do it" or "no, no, no. Never" because he is really enthusiastic, and it fits really well with his character.

Pay attention to how they would talk about themselves. Maybe your character doesn't like people to know they're sad because it makes them feel vulnerable, so they will just say they feel annoyed or don't want to talk in that moment. This also means that they will not tell the reader something they are not comfortable saying in the first place.

How is their education? Education is also very important in this context. Did they went to university and have a rich vocabulary and structured sentences, or where they rised in a little farm far from town? You can also play with both a bit: maybe your character did go to university, but maybe they also came from a low income family, and characteristic of both things merge when they talk. Example: long, structured, sentences but a simple and sight forward vocabulary.

That's all for now and happy writing!!

Other tips for writers: previous | next

[cherubfae]

"the need for speed? nah dude, the need to breed!" || {hazbin x reader}

ft. Lucifer, Vox, Adam

tags: nsfw, smut, fallen angel! afab!gn!reader, reader has the ability to become pregnant, pregnancy, starting a family, pet names (doll, sweetheart, sweetling, etc), spit as lube, Adam is his own warning lmao, he gets kinda nasty. Dude definitely has some sort of narcissistic kink.

a/n: if you see me, no you don't. never would've thought I'd write for adam much less smut for him lmao wow I clearly don't have a favorite what--- lol enjoy everyone!! -- noah<3

Lucifer

One clawed hand braced against the wall above the headboard, the other gripping your flesh tightly. He moves you against him, every roll of his hips has him shuddering. Mouth agape and drooling, Lucifer tosses his head back with a wanton pant. The scent of magic fills the air as his wings explode out of his back; red and white feathers glimmer beneath the blood red glow of Hell's evening sky. "Fuck, sweetling. Can never get used to how well you take my cock. Gods above, you were made for me, weren't you?" Nipping at your throat, Lucifer folds himself over you, hiking your thighs over his hips. Gasping at the new position, Lucifer seals your lips in a kiss. He's noisy, audibly whimpering and panting into your mouth-- and you aren't fairing much better. Practically clawing at any exposed skin you can reach. His claws tenderly stroke along your wings, an action that makes you whine and clench around his cock. Groaning, Lucifer's eyes shift to that beautiful blazing red. "Gonna make me a daddy again, sweetheart?" His pace increases, every thrust sending the headboard bashing against the wall. "How about giving me a son this time, baby?"

Vox

With hands pinned beneath one of Vox's above your head, you were entirely at your fiance's mercy. Brutal thrusts rocked your body upwards, molding your core to the shape of his thick cock. Teeth at your throat, Vox's voice is a soothing rumble of static. "You look so fuckin' pretty like this, baby. All stretched out f'me and begging so nicely." Repositioning himself, Vox thrusts upwards with a shudder. He loves having you like this, so cute and pliant for him. Definitely has some form of a corruption kink what with your wings splayed put across the bed. You were a holy being once, and now here you are, in Hell, taking his cock like its the last time you'll ever enjoy one another. It makes him feel powerful, using all of his strength to rock himself inside of you-- and you, oh so willing for every drop of his cum. "Can't wait to give you so many kids, f'it means I get to breed you over n' over."

Adam

"Shit, sweetheart. Don't clench so tight. We've barely started d'ya want me cummin' inside ya that fast?" Sucking in a sharp breath, Adam bows over your naked body, harshly pinning your knees apart. Your wings are pinned beneath your back strain in protest, but you're not trying to hard to escape your position; not when your husband looks this fucking good. Hissing, he rears his hips back until his cockhead barely touches your entrance. Gathering his precum with two fingers, he fucks those same fingers into your hole moaning low at the lewd noises that seep out. "Such a greedy fuckin' hole, yeah? So desperate for some nice thick cock, fuckkkk." Adam spits onto his fingers, stretching you nice and wide. "Can't wait to breed you, babe. Gonna make us parents. You're gonna look even more sexy when you're carrying my kid." He chuckles to himself. Sinking his teeth into the column of your neck, Adam fucks his length into you with one sharp thrust.

a/n: ... Do you think Vox's kids are gonna be like.. iPhones or iPads? A portable DVD and BluRay player? I can't take TV man seriously lmao

|| please don't repost, reuse, or edit my works in any way! I do not give permission. Tumblr is the only site where I post. All characters belong to their rightful owner and the story belongs to me © CHERUBFAE 2024 ||

[dawnchorus-if]

‎ ‎‎

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ Your sister is dead, murdered and mutilated and left to rot in a brothel like a sickly dog. You finally know your purpose: revenge.

DAWN CHORUS is an 18+ interactive fiction about death, love, and the song of new morning. Demo TBA.

You live in The Rocks, a decaying settlement in the shadowed outskirts of the kingdom, Cape Lyra. Once a cozy village, The Rocks has withered into a decrepit ruin since the assassination of King Cedric. Queen Lyra, for whom the kingdom was named, became consumed by grief and neglected the outer villages. Now, The Rocks is a place where even the birds come to die.

Desperate to earn money for the both of you, your sister ventured to Cape Lyra with her best friend, Jax. Only Jax returned, covered in your sister's blood, with a hazed description of her killer. Driven by the need for retribution, you and Jax set out for the kingdom, determined to find and punish the sick soul who took your sister's life. When revenge is your only remaining purpose, a life for a life only seems fair.

You hope.

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎Fully customise yourself, from your name and appearance to your sexuality to your greatest woes and wants. Choose your approach to grief, to anger, to revenge—drown in your sorrows or push them aside in favour of a... different kind of vice. Curate a story that revolves around who you are, and what you'll stand for.

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ Explore relationships with six different romanceable characters, and a multitude of other characters to befriend (or behead). Interact with a diverse cast of characters, each with their own impact to leave on the story. Just... be careful who you trust, some people might not be who they say they are.

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ Find out what really happened to your sister. Hunt down her killer, or killers, and determine your own ability to play executioner on her behalf. Open doors to dark rooms in the royal family history, find out that there's a lot more darkness in Cape Lyra than there is light.

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ Get involved in the politics of Cape Lyra. The people can only be neglected for so long before they start to revolt, right? What side of history will you be on? Or will you be too blinded by grief to care who gets hurt?

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ Exorcise a demon, maybe.

DAWN, born amidst the morning birdsong, the cherished youngest child of King Cedric and Queen Lyra, and the heir apparent to the throne. They don't often get to see outside of Cape Lyra's walls, so don't fault them for being a little juvenile in their knowledge of the world, it's not born from a lack of desire. There's a youthful charm to Dawn, and a deep-seated eagerness to know more about the kingdom they'll one-day rule. [M/F, 22]

ASA KYNES, climbing the ranks as one of Cape Lyras most dedicated royal guards, Kynes is as formidable as they are resolute. You won't get past them very easily, they've got keen judgement skills, and you're up to something, they're sure of it. Kynes is loyal, and more than willing to lay their life down in servitude to the monarchy. Getting Kynes to open up is hard, but may be more than worth it. [M/F, 26]

JAX HANSLEY, your sisters best friend and now your accomplice in avenging her. Jax is royalty in The Rocks, charismatic beyond belief and has been teasing you since you were just starting to walk. Extravagant and always looking for something to do, you'll never find yourself bored around them. Plus, you couldn't get rid of Jax even if you wanted to, they're the closest thing to family that you have left. [M/F, 24]

CERYS SELINE, owner and face of The Rabbits Foot, Cape Lyra's busiest tavern. Cerys is a stern woman who works her ass off day and night, but there's a sweet undertone to the way she speaks: something nurturing. She's a pillar of the kingdom, well-connected and respected. There's more to her than meets the eye, sure, but for now she's more than willing to aid you in finding your sisters killer. [F, 26]

ARTHUR CASE, a priest who has been ousted from the kingdom for reasons he just won't speak aloud. Left with only one leg and crumbs of his faith, he's living in his late father's old church a short trek from the kingdoms gates. Pop in for a service one day, maybe confessionals don't always have to be one-sided. [M, 29]

??? — something cold in the shadows, and its eyes are on you.

DAWN CHORUS contains some heavy topics, such as graphic depictions of death, violence, drug use, explicit language and skippable sexual content. Classism is also a present topic. Readers discretion is advised.

reblogs r so appreciated and asks are more than welcome ^^

[lordofdestructionm]

Wick Sable

The odd duck in the guilded cage

Despite this being a feral Mordecai and Viktor account I do occasionally like to dig into the others.

Wick is a character Lackadaisy fans love but don't talk about very much. He just the rich friendly geologist with a love of illicit beverages and a crush on Mitzi. Indeed he is all those things. But I want to dig a little into what may be hidden depth (geography joke haha)

Professional dissatisfaction

When we first meet Wick he is behind his desk looking very tired and beaten down. Forcing himself to keep working late into the night with excessive coffee. Attending to a large pile of paper work for tomorrow.

His expression shifts slightly when he sees the Lackadaisy pins fall out of the envelope and realises the letter is an invitation to him (and his fellow aristocrats) to the speakeasy.

This hatred of paper work and the administrative side of his business is a recurring issue for Wick. Making the reason for his reliance on the capable and attentive Lacy very obvious. Exhaustian and too much alchohol are no doubt partly to blame, but it seems to be something that puts him in a very depressed state of mind.

But when actually on the job, overseeing the hands on work of blasting a new quarry, his mood is much more positive. Indeed he has a very real and sincere love for geology and the nitty gritty work of his business. When he first went to the Lackadaisy he was spellbound by the lime caverns themselves as much by Mitzi's charm.

Its his special interest and he will go on long unprompted monologues on the topic if given the chance. Meaning it is specifically the being trapped in his office dealing with the red tape that makes him so unhappy not the industry itself.

Its almost sad that he is the one in charge of the company rather than in a role that puts him closer to the action which seems to bring him real joy. Like someone who loves cooking being in charge of a restuarant or someone that loves drawing running an animation studio.

They love the product/industry but that doesn't mean they enjoy their specific place in it.

Unimpressed Peers

Despite Wicks enthusiasm it proves not be infectious with his fellow elite, who complain about being dragged out of town to watch something, that while very important to Wick, they clearly could not care less about (even not that quietly mocking him and his love for rocks and construction)

When the evening doesn't go to plan due to the uninvited pig farmers Wick has an interesting exchange with Edmund Church, seemingly the most prominent of the St Louis upper crust in the group. Warning him about getting any more involved with an unsavoury crowd, especially Mitzi, outside of simply enjoying the occasional drink.

Wick doesn't take kindly to the snarky criticism and borderline threat to his reputation and responds with a much more direct statement on his peers sour nature

Tracy has mentioned that Church has a role yet to play in the story and it seems safe to assume from this it may well involve Wick in a less than friendly way if he continues to associate with his "lessers" as Church and the others see things.

Despite needing to remain on civil terms to keep them invested in his business, Wick clearly has little love for them, a feeling that is mutual as they have little respect for him and see him as an oddball, only tolerating him because his talent in his field can help make them a tidy profit.

But while he doesn't appreciate Church's sniping Wick IS concerned about his reputation, but not entirely for his own sake or that of his elitist associates, but for the many people who rely on him for employment, who could be hurt by extension of he gets pulled too deep into the less than repectable world of bootlegging

Romantic life

Outside of the crush he has had on Mitzi since first meeting her at the Speakeasy, we have very little information about Wicks love life before this. Being a handsome and wealthy gentleman from a good family, you would think he would he fighting women off with a stick, maybe even be a bit of a playboy.

Instead you get the impression Wick is pretty far away from being a ladies man. Mentioning to Mitzi that he doesn't even really know how to talk to women unless its about rocks, bugs or limestone.

He is clearly attracted to her and is tempted by her to risk his reputation and by extension his business to get closer to her, but so far his fear of the very real consequences are deterring him from taking that gamble.

Though there is that personal aspect to it, it seems that in a more abstract sense Mitzi's appeal to Wick is not just in her beauty and seductive personality, but in the excitement and thrill of her Speakeasy and bootlegging operations.

In that sense Mitzi represents that touch of danger and excitement that during prohibition many otherwise law abiding citizens enjoyed indulging in illegal drinking establishments. Being* just* naughty enough to give them a fun thrill while being detached from the more brutal blood soaked aspects.

Wick is a good natured person (the worst thing he has done is shoot a duck in his youth which he was forced to do) living a very "respectable" life, but that makes the superficial glamour of the world of underground drinking establishments and secret booze stashes even more appealing. Thats why despite his concerns and responsibilities he keeps going back ,not just to Mitzi, but to the Lackadaisy specifically. It has pretty geography, a pretty owner, and an open door to a more exciting avenue of life

Its for that same reason he doesn't seem to be overly uncomfortable with lovable bi disaster Zib flirting with him at the bar. He may have no intention of reciprocating, but it couldn't be a more different experience to the world he is used to

Even if he doesn't yet want to take the full plunge it all excites him enough to keep him circling the edges.

Because despite having so much going for him there are things about his life that not only bore him but make him unhappy. Whether its piles of paperwork, dealing with much stuffier "conventional" fellow aristocrats and not wanting to be like them, or just a general lack of true passion in his life, he is clearly a man looking for something more satisfying

Whether or not he remains a "tourist" or decides to take that gamble, throw his reservations to the wind, and take a more active role in the gang, is yet to be seen...

Assuming Rocky doesn't set fire to him first of course XD

[norrisjpg]

no surprises - ʟɴ⁴

based on this request from @jxnellat - thankyou lovely!!

in which, lando's bias opinion regarding the open red bull seat proves to stop a new friendship blossoming - until he proves himself wrong.

contains: unconscious bias, smallest bit of angst, shit-talking, carlos not to red bull (NOO), justice for logan because i give him an extra year in f2, mentions of christian horner (AH), social media, fluff, lando admitting he's wrong, mentions of struggles with mental health, williams not being shit.

platonic lando norris x named female character (senna hamilton)

...

...

carlos sainz jr's first choice was always going to be red bull. why wouldn't it be? the team was dominating the formula 1 world, and he was sure they wouldn't fuck him over like ferrari had many, many times.

but, tough luck for him.

before he could even think about getting into talks with christian and helmut - the world was rocked with the news of formula one's first female driver, moving to her dad's previous rival team.

senna hamilton might as well have broken the media. she was currently racing for williams alongside alex albon, but had no word from her superiors as to whether they were going to extend her contract with williams or whether there was any interest from mercedes.

so, she looked elsewhere.

and honestly, it came as a shock when her manager explained that christian horner wanted to arrange a meeting to discuss her seat for 2025 - due to sergio perez's less-than-admirable performance in the first half of the 2024 season.

either way, it was safe to say, that the hamilton family had given the world yet another reason to look forward to the 2025 season, and also given them all aneurysms in the process.

lando norris wasn't one for commenting on other driver's situations, but when it came to carlos sainz jr, he didn't hesistate as much as he usually would.

"so, lando, as we know you're good friends with carlos, and well, there's now one less team for him to go to - with senna going to red bull next year - can we just get your thoughts on that?" the blonde woman asked him, steadily holding the microphone out in front of him.

"well, obviously i think carlos deserves the best available seat possible, and that would have most likely been the red bull seat - so i think he should be in the red bull - but, i do think it will be interesting to see what senna can do in the red bull alongside max, but i'm just hoping that carlos can also get a good seat for next year." lando nodded, slightly stumbling over his words as his PR manager side-eyed him.

"okay, so you think that carlos deserves to be in the red bull?"

"yeah, i do - not that senna doesn't deserve the red bull seat, i'm sure she does, but i'm just going off how well i know each of them. obviously carlos and i have known each other since 2019, i've only known senna since 2022 and well, we don't really talk much." lando shrugged, pursing his lips.

"okay, thankyou lando." the woman nodded, before he and his PR manager headed back toward the mclaren hospitality.

his PR manager looked at the interviewer as the two walked away, she had a bad feeling about this.

meanwhile, the joyful tune of 'taste' by sabrina carpenter blasted out of senna's driver room in the mercedes garage, as the british girl bounced around her room, dancing to the song - when her PR manager, cameron, walked in.

"i've got some interesting news, sen."

...

well, as hard as lando tried not to give them that headline they so badly wanted - he somehow still did.

'senna doesn't deserve the red bull seat claims star formula 1 driver, lando norris.'

now, senna wasn't usually a confrontational person, but this was bang out of order, and she definitely didn't expect it from someone she didn't know that well. therefore, she requested a meeting with lando and his PR manager.

"so, would you like to explain this headline please?" senna asked as she slid a piece of paper over to him, the headline printed along with the article - she felt like she was interrogating someone in a james bond movie.

"what about it?" lando said gruffly, not entirely sure how to react to this situation.

"this is the equivalent of me saying you didn't deserve your win in miami, and then everyone agreeing with me, lando." she pursed her lips, earning a side-eye from her own manager.

"i don't really know what you want me to say?" the mclaren driver furrowed his eyebrows. "i never explicitly said that."

"i know, i watched the interview, but you might as well have." a soft scoff left her lips. "i don't actually care if you think i deserve the seat or not, i would just like you to undo this. i face enough prejudice and discrimination as it is, but i certainly didn't expect it from a fellow competitor, i'm disappointed quite frankly, lando."

her words hit like a tonne of fucking bricks - how could he be so fucking blind? lando thought that she'd asked for this meeting to have a go at him and tell him how wrong he was, but once again, he was wrong.

suddenly, he felt almost... sympathetic for her? yes, he also experienced a lot of hate online and he knew how much it affected his mental health - but if one of his competitors had said something like he had? he'd be a fucking wreck on the inside.

"oh, um, okay, yeah." he said, a little quieter as the realisations hit him. "yeah, i'm sorry, senna."

"i don't want an apology, lando." she shrugged, a small smile on her lips. "i just want this to go away."

...

INSTAGRAM

liked by georgerussell, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen33, and 421,294 others. sennahamilton ... strong weekend in belgium, another good haul of points with alex in P8 and myself in P7. time for a much needed break after a great first half of the season, see you all in zandvoort!!

view comments ...

alex_albon ... williams are washed who???

user1 ... double points!!!

user2 ... she better not get P7 in a red bull next year

↳ landonorris ... i'd like to see you try and finish a race?

↳ liked by sennahamilton

mercedesamgf1 ... things we love to see - roscoeee!!

user3 ... red bull are seriously desperate after the first half of the season, aren't they?

↳ sennahamilton ... why wouldn't you be desperate for me?

↳ liked by landonorris

landonorris has started following you!

sennahamilton has started following you!

...

"good morning miss hamilton." a recently familiar voice chimed in her ears, and then the unmistakable bright papaya hoodie appeared in her peripheral vision.

"good morning lando." she smiled, sounding a little tired of his recent apology antics.

"i have an urgent question for you." he said, falling into step with her as they walked past the haas hospitality.

"go on." she nodded, walking straight past the williams garage.

"would you be so kind as to accompany me back to monaco this evening after the race?"

"what?" she furrowed her eyebrows, stopping in her tracks.

"you live in monaco, correct?" lando stood in front of her, maybe a foot or so away from her.

"yes." senna nodded, wetting her lips briefly with her tongue.

"and i also live in monaco, i've got a few extra spaces on my jet, and was wondering if you'd like to join me." he explained. "it'd be me, you, max, daniel, charles, and carlos."

"ah, okay, i see." she nodded. "what's brought this on?"

"well, since we're friends now, i thought- well i don't really know i just wanted to know if you wanted to come with us or not."

"uhm... yeah, okay." senna knew she was a little unsure at this sudden gesture, but she went along with it regardless. "i'll let my dad know, but yeah, thanks."

"cool!" lando smiled, trying to sound as nonchalant about it as possible - he failed miserably. "uh, we're meeting at the airport at eight in the evening, and there'll be food on the plane."

"right, okay." she responded as they began to walk again. "not to sound fussy or anything, but the food... there won't be any fish, will there?"

"ew, of course not, i hate fish." he almost grimaced at the thought, but then his brain immediately clocked onto the fact that she sounded as equally as disgusted as him at the idea. "i'm assuming you don't like fish either?"

"i'd rather skin myself alive than eat fish, lando."

why hadn't he ever bothered to talk to her before?

...

INSTAGRAM

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, maxverstappen33, and 513,482 others.

sennahamilton ... the whole point of this post is so i can show everyone how weirdly adorable lando and daniel are together - that's all.

view comments ...

landonorris ... i fly you home and you call me weird? last time bitch

↳ sennahamilton ... woah i also called you adorable so shut up

↳ user1 ... lando and senna are friends??

maxverstappen33 ... how come you always say no to me when i ask you to fly with me??

↳ sennahamilton ... i don't want to be friends with you :)

↳ landonorris ... this means you want to be friends with me??

danielricciardo ... i have no recollection of taking those photos

user4 ... i feel as if we might see a group-grid holiday this summer

liked by sennahamilton and carlossainz55

...

"miss hamilton!" lando exclaimed loudly as he skipped up to her in the quiet airport - making her cheeks grow pink in embarrassment.

"lando, shut up." senna groaned, internally praying people around her hadn't noticed that it was, in fact, her and lando.

"sorry, where is your positive attitude?" he teased, a sharp edge of sarcasm to his voice.

"in the plane." she mumbled, dragging her pink suitcase behind her as they walked toward their gate together.

"come on, sen, we're going to disneyland!" the brit cheered, making an amused smile creep onto senna's lips, mostly the mclaren driver's child-like excitement. "actually, i have something to admit to you."

"oh god, go ahead."

"i never thought you didn't deserve the red bull seat, sen." he shrugged, his tone changing but a smile still on his face. "and if anything, i knew you deserved it - maybe more than carlos."

she laughed with a small wink, "i won't tell him you said that."

,,,

ah i actually really enjoyed writing this!! the social media parts especially, so maybe i'll start doing more social media fics??

[cultven]

Hi!

I was wondering if you can do a Deadpool x reader x Wolverine fic where reader is like very shy. They find her in the void with the other hero’s from the resistance. They both are immediately smitten but since they both are pretty loud and bickering a lot, it makes the reader nervous. Maybe once they win the fight against Cassandra Nova, the two of them confess to her at Wade’s apartment.

Hope you having a wonderful day/night

No pressure or rush

-W.P 💚

Founded Love

Deadpool X Reader X Wolverine

Content: Some cursing, Deadpool’s humor, Wolverine being so done with Wade lol, Self-conscious Deadpool

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Spoilers for Deadpool 3

a/n: First request done! Hopefully, you like it, I tried following the best I could. The reader may seem a little more timid than shy, however.

You were walking around the ruins of The Void, kicking away the dirt and small rocks that lay in your path. Despite always being on edge, you’ve found yourself at peace with your life in The Void. As long as you stayed away from Cassandra Nova and kept to yourself things were just fine. You had even found a family of your own in The Void, superheroes like yourself who were forgotten with time. It wasn’t the life you had imagined for yourself as a child, but you were happy all things considered. As you stumbled around the woods not looking for anything in particular when your eyes spot a blue minivan in the distance. 

You hum to yourself in confusion, taking in the state of the vehicle. It was battered and bloody, the liquid still visibly fresh. It looked a hell of a lot like Nicepool’s car, another trashed variant that lived in The Void. You hoped it wasn’t his car, he always seemed kind enough, hence his not-so-creative name, and you didn’t want any trouble finding the man. Besides, Nicepool was one of the only other people in The Void besides your family you could comfortably talk to. You have always been the shy type, even back in your everyday life in the real world. Casual conversation didn’t come naturally to you, leading you to feel incredibly awkward most times. You were never fond of most other people anyway, so your reserved nature didn’t bother you. 

As you shuffled closer to Betsy, you remember Nicepool always insisting you call the car by her name, you catch a glimpse of two people. The first was notably tied up in various seatbelts, seemingly asleep. He was another Deadpool variant, thankfully not your befriended one, and was bloodied similar to the car. The second man was a Wolverine variant, something that isn’t usually seen in The Void and was also quite beaten. By the looks of it, they had a pretty hefty fight and weren’t going to join consciousness anytime soon. Making a swift decision on what to do with the newfound characters you sigh and try to start up the car, planning on taking them back to your crew.

Much to your surprise, the car runs quite well considering the damage it’s withheld. The drive back to your hideout was quiet with some soft snoring from the back seat. Some music would have been nice but you didn’t want the pair waking up before you got them to the rest of your family. You could handle the transportation, but the questioning was something better fitted for Elektra or Eric. Eventually, you turn the car and park it next to the house you have been calling home for almost a year now. You debated bringing the two men inside by yourself before quickly realizing there was no way in hell you’d be able to move their large figures. 

“Guys, I’m back.” You quietly announced walking through the door. You saw Remy and Laura sitting at a table playing cards while Elektra was making some sort of food in the kitchen. 

“Hey, glad to see you made it back ok.” Elektra smiled, plating five portions of her cooking. “Did you see Johnny while you were out there?” 

“Nah, unfortunately not. But, I did find some new guys. A Deadpool and a Wolverine.” That caught everyone’s attention, especially Laura’s. You and her were quite close which led her to entrust you with her past, most importantly the bits of Logan. You felt uneasy with all the attention now suddenly on you, but continue your thoughts with fiddling fingers. “They’re, um, in a car unconscious just outside the house. I drove them here. I probably can’t move them inside so…” You let your stream of thoughts trail off, noticing Remy stand up from his space at the table. 

“I’ll go get them, eh?” His accent never failed to amuse you, causing you to smile and nod at the man as he went out the door. Blade soon entered the room and began talking with the others, speculating what the hell was going on with the two men outside. You took this as an opportunity to hide away in your room, allowing yourself to decompress after everything. 

After some rustling outside your room, it eventually quieted, likely meaning the two men were still asleep and the others wanted to give them space. You took this as an opportunity to sneak around to the kitchen, the starvation of not eating all day finally catching up to you. As you tiptoe down the hallway and past the living room you hear an inaudible grumble. Turning your head slightly you see the Wolverine stir. Not realizing you had completely stopped to stare at the man, his narrow eyes met yours with a questioning glance. 

“What the hell are you looking at? Where are we?” His accusatory tone and spew of questions caused you to become flustered. You begin to tap your foot on the floor, a nervous tick you’ve developed over time. 

Realizing you have yet to answer his questions you spoke up, “I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were awake. Or I guess you just kinda woke up, huh?” You get out an awkward laugh, avoiding eye contact. You hated this with everything in your body. “I, uh, found you guys in that old banged-up car so I called for backup to take you here just to make sure you guys were alright.” When you didn’t get a response you turned back to the Wolverine who was previously throwing questions at you to find him much calmer now. Maybe he finally gauged that you weren’t a threat to him, and even if you were he could easily take you down. You find his eyes scanning your body and finally meet your eyes, causing you to shrink. His frown lines were less prominent than before, adorning a more relaxed expression. 

“Mhm, well thanks for that then.” It wasn’t the kindest thank you in the world, but it was nice he was at least a little grateful for your efforts. As you watched him examine the room you took in his appearance. He adorned the iconic Wolverine suit, the one that Laura insisted her Logan never wore, so it’s likely that this isn’t her Logan, but you figured that much considering ghosts didn’t make it to The Void. He seemed to have a permanent frown on his face, which oddly suited him. There were small tufts of hair on the top of his head, ones that resembled ears. It was cute. Little did you know, when you finally turned away from admiring the man he took his own turn to take you in. You could tell there wasn’t a version of you in his world, but he still felt comforted by your presence in an odd way. Perhaps it was because you saved him and his stupid sidekick. No matter the reason, the gentle look on your face when you hadn’t realized he was awake yet was enough to draw him towards you. 

“What’s your name?” He wanted the conversation to continue and was becoming increasingly interested in you. 

“Y/N. I already know yours, you’re the notorious Wolverine. Also known as Logan.” He seemed shocked you knew his real name, especially by the disregard of how you said it. Noticing his reaction you hastily begin explaining yourself. “Well uh, it’s just Laura told me, if you even know who that is, um I’m not sure if you have her in your universe.” Your speech comes out in an anxious jumble, before deciding just to shut your mouth altogether, wanting to hide away. Wolverine chuckled to himself slightly, finding your skittish behavior quite endearing.  

You felt yourself blushing, wanting to hide from the strong eyes following your figure. Just as you were about to mumble out an excuse to leave the room Logan responded to your earlier ramble, “I’m not sure what all that means bub, but thanks for letting us crash here.” You watched him take in the room, mostly staring at Remy’s impressive stash of alcohol. He stood up from his place and chose a bottle of booze to open and take a swig. You knew Remy wouldn’t appreciate this action, but you were too shy to speak up about it. 

“Yeah, of course.” You rocked back and forth on your feet, something Wolverine took notice of. The whole time you spoke to him he picked up on your small fidgets and mannerisms. Despite finding them precious he didn’t want you to feel so nervous while talking to him, he wasn’t all that scary. Besides, he doesn’t hurt people without reason. “Was that Nicepool’s car you were in?” Before Wolverine had the chance to open his mouth a loud gasp followed by “Thor!” is heard from the bed. Upon seeing the Deadpool variant spring up from his sleeping position you hide yourself half behind the wall. Other than Nicepool all of the other Deadpools you have encountered were aggressive to say the least. But if this one was traveling with the nice Wolverine then maybe he couldn’t be so bad? 

Noticing your caution Wolverine decided to speak up, “Morning, jackass.” 

“Well, good morning to you too, honey bear.” Deadpool took in their surroundings before settling his gaze on you. “I see a beautiful woman has kidnapped us. Not how I was planning for this trip to go, but this could be a pretty hot porn set-up.” You could practically hear the smirk oozing from his speech. Maybe not an aggressive Deadpool, but it didn’t make him any less intimidating. 

You didn’t know what to say, so Wolverine said what you were practically thinking. “Shut the fuck up, asshole. She helped us here and now you’re creeping her out.” He took a swig before slightly positioning himself between you and the Deadpool. 

“I’m not the one with a permanent scowl! You look like the stereotypical villain of every cartoon.” Deadpool stands up before sauntering his way over to you. “What’s your name, pretty little thing.” 

“Y/N.” You managed to squeak out, ready to go lock yourself in your room forever. All of the sudden attention made you increasingly nervous. Deadpool just patted your head and looked over at Wolverine. 

“Dibs on this lovely lady.” He began smushing your cheeks like you were a child. He was quite the character, oddly charming in his weird ways, although you were getting overwhelmed with the physical touch. “I would be okay with sharing with you though Wolvie. Maybe divorced parents' style, I get weekdays and you every other weekend, hm?”

Wolverine growled, “She’s not an object, dipshit.” He pulled Deadpool off of you, clutching the fabric of his suit in his hand. As they begin to argue over you, you feel yourself shrink. Their booming voices and increasingly violent demeanors made you nervous, wanting to flee from the scene as soon as possible. Noticing their attentions were solely on each other you took the chance to sneak out of the room and back into the oasis that is your bedroom. You enjoyed the conversation you had with Logan, but once Deadpool woke up it was clear the two characters didn’t seem to mix well. Once they were caught in each other’s warpath it was like you weren’t even there anymore. 

You heard them eventually quiet, likely realizing you had left the scene a while ago. The arguing also caught the attention of the rest of your roommates, who were all very curious to see what the deal of the two new arrivals was. You opted to stay in your bedroom and listen to some music to help calm you down. As much as you loved your found family, large crowds were still unnerving. As it got later in the night you quickly realized that you couldn’t hide out forever, needing to eat as humans do, so you snuck out of your room. Luckily it seemed everyone had retired for the night early. It was odd considering the new arrivals but maybe they all wore each other out. 

Walking into the kitchen you notice another figure already standing at the toaster, patiently waiting for his food to pop up. “Hey, cutie.” The man in red purred, wiggling his fingers in your direction. 

“Is your whole personality just being a creep?” You half-joked, grabbing a box of cereal. You typically wouldn’t say things like this is strangers, but you could tell that this was certainly Deadpool’s type of humor. He seemed to appreciate the joke as he only giggled at the comment. 

“Maybe.” He said, playfully dragging out the E at the end. You just roll your eyes in return before fixing yourself a bowl of cereal and sitting at the counter, back turned towards him. Realizing that the conversation was over you heard an uncharacteristic sigh from the mercenary. “Sorry for kind of ambushing you there earlier. It’s just fun to watch Wolverine get his panties in a twist. He was sooo flirting with you back there.” It seemed he genuinely felt bad for making you uncomfortable back there, which was sweet. However, his one comment stuck about flirting. There was no way, right?

“I don’t know, it seemed like a normal conversation to me.” You shrugged despite feeling your entire body heat up at the suggestion. 

“Maybe he wasn’t flirting with his words, but he was definitely flirting with his eyes.” Deadpool moved back into your line of vision, waving his hand in front of your eyes. “Just know I’m batting my eyelashes under the mask right now.” You must say, despite the sheer amount of annoyance this man can bring, he is quite funny. 

Giving in to the stupidity you don’t hold back your small laugh, which plainly pleased Deadpool across from you. “Where is Wolverine now anyway?” It was strange to see the two apart seeing as you found them together. 

“He’s talking to your feisty friend out there.” You could tell right away he was referring to Laura. It made sense why they would be talking. You wonder if he had a Laura in his timeline. Suddenly you heard the pop of a toaster and Deadpool’s demeanor pop up. “Oh, fuck yes!” He clapped vigorously before reaching into the toaster and pulling out a freshly made Pop-Tart. 

“Hey! Is that my last Pop-tart?” You question, eyeing the familiar-looking treat. 

“How mad would you be if I said yes?” Deadpool looked at you with fake innocence. 

“Very.”

“Then, no.” He patted your head once more before situating himself across from you, Pop-tart on a plate. You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance. It was strange to find yourself so comfortable with the man in such a short amount of time. Admittedly, you felt this way about both of the new arrivals. They were quite friendly, to you at least, and were easy to talk to. You were grateful you stumbled upon them in those woods, and they seemed to feel the same way. 

“Did you hear about the plan for tomorrow?” Deadpool questioned. Your downcasted eyes looked up in confusion. 

“Plan?”

“Yup, we’re gonna rock Cassandra’s shit tomorrow,” Deadpool said with a grin. “Can’t wait to see the look on that egghead’s face when she realizes she got fucked by a Looney Toons squad.” You just shook your head, smiling a bit before noticing the plate still soundly sat in front of the man. 

“Hey, your Poptart is getting cold.”

“Shit! Cold Pop-tarts are the worst.” He groaned, throwing his head back. “I guess I was just too distracted by your beauty to notice, among other things.” He makes motions with his hands around his chest. He’s talking about your boobs, classy. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You just giggled. “Eat you idiot.” Deadpool grinned under his mask before looking down at the plate. He seemed hesitant about something, but you didn’t know what. It was only a Pop-tart, all he had to do was lift his mask and eat it. Speaking of which, you actually can’t recall ever seeing him without his mask. 

“I might actually take this one to go, baby girl. Don’t wanna ruin your appetite.” He motions to his mask before nodding his head and turning to skip out of the room. 

“Hey, wait!” You’ve seen some pretty nasty stuff in The Void, surely it couldn’t be that bad. “Eat here, with me. I’d appreciate the company.” Seeing you want him to stay Deadpool couldn’t just dent you, so he conceded and sat himself back down. Tentative fingers made their way to his mask, pulling it up only slightly. Under you get a glimpse of scar tissue, textured and wrinkled. After taking notice of your lack of reaction he continues slowly, his prominent cheekbones revealed, and then his dark brown eyes. Finally, his mask is completely off, revealing a bald head underneath. You admit it wasn’t what you were expecting, but it wasn’t horrible in the slightest. 

“You grossed out yet?” He asked with a forced-sounding laugh. His appearance was clearly a sore subject for him. 

“Not at all.” You smiled at him. “You made it seem like your face was going to be melting off or something.”

“Eh, it kinda is.” By the tone of his voice, you assumed you put the man in much better spirits.

“Well, I still think you look quite charming.” Surprise painted Deadpool’s face, and then a face of appreciation. Not many people thought he was good-looking with his deformation, he constantly got berated for it, joking and not. He ended up using his humor to seal the pain, it was a nice break to have someone see him other than his skin. “Besides, I know it’s not the same but I had like major acne as a teen, so my skin was basically as bad as yours.” 

“Probably worse if I had to guess, them hormones be crazy girl.” Deadpool had a wide smile before biting into the, now freezing cold, Pop-tart. Gross. You two sat and talked, picking away at your respective meals before Deadpool, who you learned was named Wade, suggested you both head to bed. Claiming you need your energy for tomorrow because he’d hate to see you skinned and popped like a bloody zit, his words, not yours. 

He already ran off somewhere when you were taking the trash out. As you hauled the giant trash bag behind you, a person grazed your shoulder. “You know tomorrow is a suicide mission, right?” The gruff voice from earlier, Wolverine. He sounded concerned. 

“We’ve been her prisoners for so long, it’s about time we did something for ourselves.” Wolverine seemed to accept your answer with a curt nod, turning away so you couldn’t see the worry etched in his face. 

“Just be careful, bub.” That was all he said before walking inside, leaving the door slightly open for you once you’re done. 

To put it bluntly, the mission was a success. Logan did end up assisting you and your family in effectively taking down Cassandra. This was not surprising to you, despite his rough demeanor you could tell he’s a caring person on the inside, he just doesn’t know how to verbalize it well. What you didn’t expect, however, was to be pulled into the portal with Logan and Wade, transporting you back to Wade’s dimension. This was where you took down Cassandra for good this time, watching Wade and Logan heroically sacrifice themselves for Wade’s loved ones. It was heartwarmingly sweet and incredibly anxiety-inducing. But you all made it, not without a few scratches but regeneration came in clutch. What you were most grateful for was learning the rest of your family got to return to their timelines, something you had all longed for for so long. 

After the chaos, you and Logan figured you had nothing in your old worlds and decided to stay in Wade’s timeline. He graciously offered you a place in his apartment and, after sleeping on a not-so-comfortable couch for months, you finally saved enough money to rent your own apartment which was conveniently next door. This meant the three of you hung out all the time, whether it was an ambush hang-out or a planned movie night. Wade’s family became yours and you were happy.   

“Wade! Don’t burn the popcorn this time!” You yelled from across the room, feeling entirely comfortable in the company of your peers. 

“Please. I can’t handle the burnt smell any longer. It’s a miracle you haven’t burned this place to the ground yet.” Logan grumbled, resting his arm around you. 

“I’m wounded, you guys think I’m that horrible at making such a simple dish.” As if on cue, smoke begins to ooze out of the microwave. “No! Not towards the smoke alarm not again!” He rushed over, hastily fishing the bag out, and dropped it as it burnt his hand. Quickly putting it in a bowl he hops over the back of the couch you settle on your other side, offering the bowl to Logan. 

“I’m not eating your fucking popcorn ash.” Logan mumbles, still looking for a suitable movie. 

“More for me and cutie over here then.” Wade smiles, popping a piece of popcorn in his mouth and instantly regretting it, resisting the urge to spit out the popcorn. “Mhm, delicious.” 

“You’re an idiot.” Logan berates as you just giggle. After much bickering, mostly between Logan and Wade, you finally settle on a movie, The Proposal. Halfway through Wade unexpectedly turns in your direction. 

“You know, I’m really happy you found us gutted in that shitty excuse for a car.” It was sweet, in Wade’s own way. 

“Me too, bub,” Logan says, squeezing your shoulder where his arm still rests around you. You look between the both of them and smile brightly. 

“I’m the happiest, I got to meet you guys. You really broke me out of my shell, you know that?” You squeezed Wade’s hand while patting Logan’s thigh. You truly were grateful for them, the other group may have been your family but these two felt different, even closer in a way. “I don’t think I ever want to leave.” 

“We’re glad,” Wade says sweetly before frantically shushing both you and Logan as his favorite part of the movie begins your play. The rest of the night is spent in comfortable silence, much to your surprise with Wade, as the three of you cuddle closely on the couch, thanking the universe for connecting you. 

[otdiaftg]

Thank you

Dear AFTG Fandom, Friends, and Family:

To say that it has been a tremendous honor would be an understatement. I am immeasurably proud of what this account has become and it’s due to every single one of you. Your passion for this account was the driving force at the end and I can’t thank this fandom enough for being a rock in the storm of all of this.

I began this account as both a love letter to a story that has consumed me since I was first introduced to it, but it was also created to prove that I could sustain something for this long and this intensely immersive. During this past year alone I have been dealt hands that were not always the best, but this account kept me above water, even through the many sleepless nights. It energized and empowered me through all of your retweets/re-blogs, likes, and comments.

I also want to highlight and thank all 40 artists that gave me permission to share their incredible work. The scenes came alive due to their immense talent and exceptional hard work. Every artist was kind and considerate, incredibly understanding and just as invested in this project as I was. I truly can’t thank them enough for their trust and support.

Thanks also need to be delivered to my wife and best friend who, without their constant push and patience, none of this would have happened. They were my first followers, my biggest fans, and were Abandoned so many times during the course of this and yet encouraged me to keep going. Maybe now we’ll finally have time to play all those games we’ve downloaded over the last year :).

I also want to thank Nora for…. so many things. For the creation of this story, for the encouragement when this account became so big YOU even saw it, and for becoming a dear friend in the process. You’ve been an inspiration throughout this in more ways than I can say.

And finally, I want to once again, thank all of YOU. The followers, the commenters, the re-posters, the veteran fans, the new fans, the obsessed fans, and the casual ones. Fandom can be such an intrinsic and beautiful thing. Pulling people together and bringing a life to these characters through our own individual experiences. We are all our own Foxes in a way, tied together with the understanding that second chances are immeasurable and the family we make are the best ones of all.

You gave this account a shot. And for that I am eternally grateful.

you were amazing.

🦊 🧡- Kelysium

[neoplatinum]

i promise to love you forevermore - part 2 | minatozaki sana

summary: the minatozaki group is far bigger than you expected

pairing: heiress!sana x reader

themes: arranged marriage au, fluff, angst, tension, lots of elitism, conglomerate power-hungry side characters, implied sex, misamo!

wc: 3.2k

(series masterlist)

"the minatozaki's request your presence at the 2024 annual ball." you say to yourself as your fingers run through the beautifully golden lettering imprinted on thick cardstock. lined with the minatozaki family crest pressed at the bottom. you turn the invite in your hand, it's been so long since you've attended the annual ball. but now, as a minatozaki, your presence is expected.

ever since you married sana, your life has gotten busier, often attending the conglomerate events as a figurehead for the family. leading the discussions on expansions of the family's power. sana often wants to ditch the events altogether, claimed they were too stuffy and business-y.

"baby, come here." sana complains, she often gets like this. soft with want, attention seeking and wishing for your comfort even if you're in the same room together.

"sana sweetheart, look at this." you walk towards her across the wooden floor, invitation still in hand. you pass it to her, and her eyes groan at the sight.

"is it already time?" she checks the event date.

"i thought you enjoyed the annual ball." you comment.

"i liked them when i was five and playing princess, now i feel like a zoo animal at the events." she says and leans onto your body. using it to hold up her bodyweight.

"i see, but we must go."

"yes. mother will have my head if i miss one."

"hey, at least i'll be there with you this year." you offer, pushing her down to massage her shoulders. "how does that feel?"

"mm, good, thank you darling." sana rewards you with a quick kiss. and then you hear the sound of your son wailing, in his bassinet. you walk up to him, picking him up and bouncing him in your arms.

"is he hungry?"

"no," you check his diaper, "stinky." you take the baby to the changing station. expertly changing his diapers and putting some baby powder, and then shoving him in sana's face.

he babbles and tries reaching out to sana, small grabby hands trying to pull at sana's face.

"aww baby, you are too cute!" sana snuggles into haruto, she claims that babies have a special 'baby' scent, one that makes them so adorable.

"oh also, you'll meet my cousins. the branch families." you're confused what she means.

"branch families?"

"yeah the minatozaki is the main family, but we also have branch families." she caresses haruto, giving him forehead kisses and he continues to babble. you would do anything for them.

you grab sana's face, cradling her jaw as you pull her into a sweet kiss. her eyes are a little unfocused after, you rocked her world.

"what was that for?"

"for being perfectly you." you reply, slipping on your shoes.

--

being escorted by bodygaurds feels a little more reasonable, as you have haruto in your arms. him playing with the collar of your shirt, tugging on it as he hugs you. sana walking by your side and being followed by a team of people that would lay down their life for you.

"sana." you start, "you ready?"

she nods, but you can feel the hesitation from a mile away, you squeeze her hand for support. and walk through the giant wooden doors. the chatter of the ball quiets with the entrance of the new minatozaki head family, and the first heir, haruto minatozaki.

you're dressed in a traditional kimono, hair gelled and pressed so stiffly. sana is in her traditional kimono as well, hair done up with beautifully golden spear keeping it together. you think she looks like a goddess like this.

the minatozaki family crest displayed in stitching on the back of both your kimonos, and little haruto's as well. the crowd claps at the sight of you three, and sana bows deeply. you do the same as well. then the crowd goes back to their discussions.

in the corner you see two women, they blend into the background, but their eyes are trained on you like hawks. you wouldn't have spotted them if it weren't for sana.

"these are my cousins: momo and mina." and you look at the two woman, they don't give you a smile even though you have your hand extended and head bowed deep.

"nice to meet you." its short and curt, like a military leader. momo shakes your hand, and you try not to wince at the hand strength. you try your best to shake it back.

mina is more gentle with her hand shaking, but her eyes don't convey that, eyes of a predator watching their prey.

then they spot small haruto's arms stretched out towards them. and their eyes light up, momo picking up your son to bounce him around.

the two women leave to mingle with other guests, showing off your son. and you grab your hand, massaging it from being crushed by momo's hand.

"momo is, very strong." you say to sana, and she laughs.

"momo and mina trained to be soldiers for the family. so that's probably why, but also i'm the youngest and the only heir. so they're protective." it makes sense, the main family didn't have sana until later. so sana's the cherished sole her of the minatozaki main family.

she loops her arms around yours and drags you away. "don't worry about haruto, he's in good hands." she whispers to you as you search for him through the crowds.

"hello mother." sana bows at the sight of her mother, you bow too.

"glad to see you both, i think i saw haruto with momo earlier." she comments, and you see a genuine smile as she makes a beeline for her grandchild.

"i'm starting to think she loves haruto more than me." sana pouts at the idea, you just laugh and reassure her that all parents are like that. sana gets whisked away by a nosy aunt, and even though she whispers "help me!" over her shoulder, you just laugh and let her get dragged away.

suddenly you feel a chill up your spine, and you turn around to see mr. seki walk up to you.

"great to see you!" that devilish smile never fails to make you shudder

"likewise, mr. seki, how are you enjoying the ball?" you ask politely. ever since he found out you were to be married to a minatozaki: he's gotten more and more persistent with his requests for a major bonus.

"it's lovely, the minatozaki's always know how to host an event." he starts, a deep bellow of a laugh, commenting on the grandeur of the hall. you nod along in agreement, but mostly to move this conversation along.

"i wanted to speak to you about something." his demeanor completely changes, he stands stiffly, nearly towering over you.

"in private?"

"yes, in private." with a signal his security starts moving with him, and you follow behind, being taken away from the main hall.

--

"please have a seat." mr. seki points to the couch. you sit down, ready to hear him lecture about seniority and the importance of shareholders.

but then he drops the biggest bomb on you.

"did i ever congratulate you on your marriage?" he starts.

"oh no need for all that, i'm sure it's very much implied." you offer.

"my apologies, let me present to you a wedding gift. see here," and on the table are photos of sana seen outside drunk and making out with various women and men. even with the dark and grainy zooms you recognize your wife. "is your wife, cheating behind your back. were you aware of this?"

"mr. seki, these are huge accusations against my wife." you lean in, eyes boring into his. he smiles at the sight, your interest is peaked.

"of course, we would never want groundless accusations." he then takes out another set of photos, much clearer and front and center is a photo of sana, undeniably her. even with her hair tossed back and her neck exposed. "so tell me, do you recognize your wife in the photo?"

he sits back as he tosses another drink. you stare at him, eyes wide and anger boiling all over. you feel yourself buzzing like a dog ready to bite.

"well?"

"mr. seki, i suggest that you keep my wife out of your mouth if you'd like to keep your tongue." you stand up, and his security team rises out of their seat, hands on their guns.

"oh i will, if she keeps her tongue out of other people's tongues. you know the minatozaki would never let this be a headline. they'd probably kill me for leaking this actually. but as a concerned uncle, i thought you should know. " his eyes dancing playfully, like he's got you in your clutches.

"mr. seki, watch your tone."

"or what?" his security force steps up.

"would you really like to find out?" you toss a knife right by his ear, nearly clipping it. the men are ready to launch at you, but he puts his fist up, stopping them. he sits up straight, getting up and buckling his blazer.

"i'll have you know something, you could kill me ten times over, but it'll never erase the fact that she's cheating on you." he smirks, patting you on your shoulder, he leaves the room.

leaving you with a table full of photos of sana, you stare at it, tucking it away into your pocket.

--

the thought sits in your head for weeks, days spent in a daze at the sight of sana. she's still as bubbly as ever, but you can't help but let the green monster grow ten-fold in your chest.

every morning at lunch you stare at her, every night at dinner you stare at her. whenever she's at her vanity you stare at her.

what else is she hiding?

so against your better judgement, you hire a private investigator. one that'll tail sana for information. track all her patterns and behaviors, who she's seeing, when she's seeing them, for how long and most importantly why she's seeing them.

you have her tailed for weeks, until it comes back to bite you in the ass.

you're busy bouncing haruto on your lap, letting him play with his toy as he babbles. he reaches out and takes your pen out of your breast pocket. chewing on it, biting into the steel body.

"haruto no! that's my pen, don't bite on that." you take the metal pen out of his mouth, and when he looks like he wants to cry, you shove his toy back in his face. and like that he's distracted again.

"emi, please take haruto." sana's voice is sudden, you didn't even hear her walk in.

emi walks in quickly, grabbing haruto out of your hold and walking out, closing the door behind her.

sana walks up to the desk, arms crossed, jaw tensed and eyes glowering at you. "do you have something to tell me?"

"sana? no i don't."

"let me ask you that one more time: do you have something to tell me?" she leans forward against the desk, face inches apart.

"sana, what's going on?"

"that's what i want to know." she walks around the desk, right next to you. "i was out with momo and mina earlier, and momo found someone tailing us. they both nearly beat him to death, and he coughed up your name, you mind telling me why he's tailing us?"

"sana, please."

"please what?" she cocks an eyebrow, "i don't appreciate being followed."

"i...i got a tip that you were...seeing other people." you explain, "i needed to know for myself."

"so instead of asking me, you hire someone to tail me, all to see if im cheating?" she's quick on her feet, just like her mother. "i swear i will rain hellfire on you if you don't answer me right now!"

"yes, i did. i had to know."

she paces back and forth, finger in between her teeth.

"why do you care?" sana questions you.

"i do. of course i do." you respond. its honest, although you aren't explaining the reason in full.

her eyes are ablaze, challenging you. "why?"

you get up, needing to make a little distance from sana. she's just so intimidating when she's mad. just like her mother.

"i wanted to know because he wanted to leak it to the press." and that's not a lie, but it's also not the main reason right now.

"are you serious?" she throws the pile of photos onto the floor, the ones you handed to the private investigator. they're stained with blood, probably his if you had to guess.

"yes."

"well you don't have to worry. the minatozaki group owns all the media outlets." she sigh, frustrated at you. "i'm not cheating."

she walks right out of your study, making a beeline to the grand staircase. you chase right after her on her tail. with her dodging all your questions. she enters the bedroom and throws two big luggages on the bed.

"where are you going?"

"packing my bags, or should i tell that to your PI too." she bites out, her voice venomous and her movements rushed. she's tossing all her clothes in the suitcase, not bothering to fold them.

"no need, i'm sorry sana. for sending a PI after you." you try and calm her down, standing in front of her suitcase.

"is that all?" she stops with a dress in one hand.

"and for accusing you of cheating." you continue. she side steps you, continuing to shove clothes into her suitcase. and you stand there, unsure of what to do. sana's never left so suddenly.

"sana please don't leave, we can talk this out!" you urge her, as the butlers descend down the stairs with her luggages in hand.

"what is there to talk about, you don't trust me enough so you had to send someone to monitor me." she pushes a finger into your chest.

sana leaves for weeks. you feel yourself get antsy when she doesn't reply to your calls or messages, unless they're related to haruto. so under that guise you offer to drop off some toys for haruto, but mostly to corner sana so she'll hear you out.

--

with the infrequent visits to the main minatozaki estate, you still always feel lost inside. the large main estate is surrounded by minor estates. tall cement walls lining the the acres of land away from the prying eyes of the public. you sit in a minatozaki black sedan, flowers in hand and a bag of haruto's toys in the other.

being reclined in polished leather seat, the car begins rolling forward into a side road, disguised behind rows of moving trees and a thick wall that sinks into the ground.

you being to really notice the size of the minatozaki power. outside are men and women all dressed in all black, ear pieces and sunglasses. all with that signature bowl cut hair, you gulp at the sight. they all eye your car as you roll into the outdoor garage.

you're pat down, taking out all your items from your jacket. they even begin inspecting the toys and flowers in your hand. you sigh as you watch them whisper to each other in coded language. and then a wooden door open, disguised as a panel of the wall, and out steps momo and mina.

both of them eyeing you with the same look they gave you at the ball.

"sana's waiting." momo begins to walk, meanwhile mina waits for you, impatiently. you pick up the pace walking through the tunnel, large stone slabs under your feet, and glass displaying the lush green open gardens in the minatozaki estate.

they don't utter another word, rhythmic measured steps as they fall into the same tempo with each other. measured steps even if they are different heights. you try and match their step, nearly tripping, but you catch yourself.

then you see her, far away, in a deep brown wooden gazebo, intricate japanese carpentry displaying the minatozaki crests on the panels, you quicken your step to get to her, but momo places a hand to stop you.

"you may not know much about us," momo nods to mina and she nods too, "but we know everything about you. one wrong move and it'll be like you never existed. don't underestimate the minatozaki power."

then the two women disappear, falling in line with the other security groups that are circulating the estate. you fix your tie, a little intimidated by the watching eyes, every direction you look there's someone staring you down.

you walk up the wooden steps into the gazebo, sana looking away and a tea cup in hand.

"hello, sana."

"haruto's toys?" her hand is extended.

"they're here, in this bag." you hand her the bag, and she looks into it, nodding to you before dismissing you.

"wait sana, please, could you let me explain myself?" you sit down next to her, her eyes faraway.

"you explained yourself pretty clear last time." she says, taking a sip of her tea, setting the cup onto a tray.

"i don't think i did, please let me explain myself." she doesn't say anything. eyes trained on that lone duck in the pond.

"i, for a very very stupid reason, wanted to tail you. because it's harder to open the can of worms of who we are to each other. we married out of convenience, but to me, you are my wife, my only love. i needed to know if you see me the same way. or am i still someone you married for convenience?"

sana stares at you, more specifically the flowers you brought, her favorite. and the wedding band you still keep on your finger.

"then let me make this very clear. you are mine. and i am yours. there is no one else in the picture." she stands up, handing you a usb stick, "i found out your anonymous tip, mr. shugo seki of seki industries, 62, married with two children and five grandchildren. four mistresses and six children out of wedlock. $12 million in gambling debt. he's been taken care of."

she takes the flowers from your hand, sniffing them and smiling at it, before returning back to her authoritative demeanor.

"and i'll explain myself once, those photos you were presented were in the very early stages of our marriage, long before haruto. i haven't been with anyone but you for a very long time. now tell me, is that clear enough?"

"no, i think you made it very clear." you flip the usb stick in your hand, "what is in this?"

"the original raw files of the photos. if you want the dates for proof, it's all in there." she says, letting you continue to flip it around in between your fingers.

you toss it into the pond.

"don't need the proof?"

"no, why should i?" you smile at her.

"let me also make it clear, if i catch you, with anyone, i will behead you myself; do not forget it's until death do us part." she tugs you close, whispering it into your ear and you shudder. grabbing your tie, and smashing her lips against yours. pulling away with a smirk.

you don't doubt for a second she will. "understood."

"good, haruto will be up in an hour," she grabs your hand, and tugs you along the wooden bridge to the main house. "you better make it up to me before then, okay?"

you blush at that but nod, "yes, mrs. minatozaki."

--

a/n: if sana talked to me like that 😍😍😍😍 misamo in the house and we all cheered! the idea for branch families is inspired by naruto LOL (which i actually believe is true to historical japanese family systems). and a thank you to @footzanginamaurin @blaymine @d3viant0n3 @moonpheus @im--yoong and also the anon who requested for a part 2!! stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[temis-de-leon]

Replaced MC AU/AU - V. 1

Characters: demon brothers, Diavolo, fem!MC and high school crush! male! NES (MC x NES)

Intro – gn!MC , fem!MC x fem!NES (Part 1) , male!MC x male!NES (Part 1 , Part 2)

Masterlist , about the NESs

CW: unrequited love, rejection, insecure demons, i refuse to let MC be a doormat, lesson 16 mentioned, my interpretations of the pacts, suggestive (kinda? i dont know), MC is down bad for NES, golden retriever NES, both MC and NES are in their 20s

There were two songs during the writing of this part: Rock Lobster and Girl With One Eye; do with that information what you will

.

Diavolo liked NES. What a fine addition to the program he was! Invested in his studies, clearly interested in the new world he had been suddenly thrown to and cooperative as an advisor whenever MC was occupied with other matters. Charismatic, polite and respectful, still acting with naiveness, but quickly adapting to his surroundings.

No wonder MC used to be in love with him.

That was a surprise for everyone, although he’d be lying if he said it was a pleasant one. Solomon had laughed at the turn of events, stating how lucky MC was finding NES years later. In hell, no less! And while that made everything easier in terms of getting to know the Devildom from a familiar face, seeing MC smile with that bashfulness whenever she crossed paths with NES wasn’t something none of them were keen on. 

Sending him to Purgatory Hall despite MC’s protests was the obvious choice. The House of Lamentation was already crowded and having MC share her room was both unnecessary and unfair; at least, that’s what Lucifer said.

Both of the angels’ and Solomon’s reports were as positive as they could be. Luke thoroughly enjoyed baking with him, Simeon described his company as delightful and the sorcerer was ecstatic when he announced that NES tried every single one of his dishes, which just proved his bravery and resilience. 

Diavolo liked NES, yes, but he’d like him even more if MC liked him a little less.

.

.

“So those are pacts?”

MC stared at NES, mouth dry and words stuck in her throat. She needed to blink, but she didn’t know how to do that without looking weird. Of course NES’s eyes had to look like that under the light of the fireplace. 

“MC?”

“Yes?”

He laughed and her heart skipped a beat. There wasn’t an ounce of malice in his voice, making her wish his soft smile was born out of the intimate bubble encasing them. If she focused enough, she could swear NES had a blush in his cheeks. If only that wasn’t due to the heat.

“The pacts, MC”

“Oh, yeah”

Could the earth swallow her if she was already in hell?

“They’re bonds I share with the brothers. Kinda like…”

She didn’t know what to say then. That she could command the brothers and they had no other choice but to obey her? He'd discover the true meaning of the pacts if he asked the right people, mainly Solomon, but it still seemed like a fact too vulnerable to share.

“It means she’s part of the family” a voice behind them intervened. “That she belongs with us”

MC jumped and turned around at lightning speed, drowning in embarrassment at the realization that she’d completely forgotten about Satan’s presence in the library. However, something in his words irked her mind. Did he want to say that? Or rather that she belonged to them?

“That’s nice, right?” 

She looked at NES, who was smiling despite the heavy silence in the air. Satan scoffed, no doubt in a mocking tone, and MC wondered with sudden ire how far she could go.

“Well, these are just two of them”

Mammon’s, covering the tip of her fingers in pure black with golden swirls; and Beel’s, dripping out of her mouth down the length of her throat.

“And where are the others? They look really cool!”

“Come closer, I’ll show you Satan’s”

Said demon snapped his book close, turning around with glaring eyes. MC ignored him and opened her mouth, letting herself enjoy NES’s presence so close to her body. There was ink in her tongue, drawing hard edges in the shape of a very elaborated arrow. NES stared at it in amazement, unconsciously grabbing MC’s chin and moving it side to side, up and down, to admire the tattoo better.

“Do you want to see the others?”

NES took his hand away, discreetly looking at Satan out of the corner of his eye.

“Would you…?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary” 

The blond glared at them and MC stared him down with a silent warning.

“I don’t think that’s your decision to make”

The tension was thick once again and MC sighed when NES looked away in awkwardness, but she couldn’t let Satan spoil what she wanted to be a nice date.

“Come with me to my room, NES, I’ll show you the rest of them”

He didn’t need any reassurance, taking his DDD and MC’s blanket with him before following her out of the room. 

The fireplace was still lit, but Satan felt unusually cold. 

.

.

“She invited him to her room?!” Asmo clutched his chest before covering his annoyance in fake saccharine words. “How daring!”

“Lucifer will be furious!” cried Levi trying not to drop his DDD in his drink, finally letting it rest on the table and keeping his trembling hands inside his pockets.

“Why didn’t you stop them?” 

Satan looked at Mammon in disbelief, sneering at his brother’s furious expression. 

“Do you really think I didn’t want to? She wasn’t exactly happy with me at the moment!”

“Well, no wonder! You cock-blocked her!” 

Levi screeched at Asmo with a horrified look in his face, tears already in his eyes and fingers fidgeting with his jacket’s zipper.

“She’s raising their intimacy levels at ultimate speed! She’s taking the shortcut! There’s no way a yucky disgusting otaku could compete with that!”

Asmo rolled his eyes, patting the sobering demon’s back.

“None of us can compete with that, Levi”

Everyone looked at Mammon in surprise, but he was staring at his fingers, completely defeated. 

“As much as it pains me to say this, Mammon is right”

“Oi! Have some respect for your older brother!”

“Shut up, you moron! I’m taking your side” speaked Asmo once again. He sighed and crossed his arms, hugging himself with sadness. “MC already made her choice. The only thing we can do is slow the process”

“Then we’ll do that”

Satan seemed determined, rejecting Mammon’s supporting touch when he leaned over his chair to grasp his arm. He got up and started to grab his things, stopping only when he heard Levi’s nervous voice.

“She’s already mad at you, Satan. Like… bosslike mad at you.”

“Do you really want to risk that?”

He refused to meet his brothers’ eyes, nor their fear, their empathy or their dejectedness. Without saying another word, he stepped out of Café Lament and set foot to the House of Lamentation.

.

.

MC loved the brothers. They’d become family, even with the death threats, the broken wall and the murder. They knew what she liked to do and eat and wear and they were more than happy to indulge in her wishes. 

But if they interrupted her time with NES one more time, so help me God, she’d give Hell a whole new meaning.

First it was Satan, sitting next to her in every class and cutting every attempt at a conversation with NES short in the name of a proper education. Then followed Belphie, who slept on the floor by her bedroom door, locking her inside and forcing her to jump out of the window, which gave everyone a heart attack. 

Lucifer mildly scolded them for that, stating himself above the poor behavior they were displaying, but still found multiple reasons for MC to be in his office for hours on end. Same as Levi, who pulled three all-nighters in a row and left her half-dead for a week. 

Mammon and Beel had been more subtle, both inviting her to movie nights, cooking sessions and shopping sprees. She only put a stop to all of the nonsense when Mammon tried to intercept her when she was on her way to a date with NES, excusing himself with a poor idiotic story about some angry witches. 

Strangely, the only one not to have a stupid scheme against her crush was Asmo. She almost expected him to be the most obvious about it, but nothing happened. He still did her nails and he helped her choose her outfits whenever she had a date with NES, albeit with a harsher critical attitude. 

He quickly became the nicest one to be around and she had no qualms in saying so.

“Oh, MC! You always know how to make me happy!”

“But it is true! I don’t know what’s wrong with the others! They’ve been acting so weird…”

Asmo stopped rummaging through her closet, turning around to look at her with an unamused expression. He looked tired.

“Honey… Surely you know. You must know”

They stayed in silence for a few seconds, both knowing that MC knew what he was talking about. All seven brothers had been interested in her to some extent, claiming ownership over her soul on more than one occasion, and this was the first time she’d rejected all those statements in such an obvious way. 

“We miss you, MC” 

Not the whole truth, but something neither of them could deny. 

“I miss you too”, she assured him. 

She could’ve left it at that, ending the raw, vulnerable talk in a positive tone. Alas, things weren’t always that easy. 

“But I like him. So, so much”

MC didn’t want to cry, but she was close. The dejection in Asmo’s eyes lasted long enough for her to almost regret knowing NES for so many years. In the end, he hid himself amongst her pile of clothes and continued looking for a good outfit.

“I’ll find time for you, I swear. For all of you”

Asmo nodded without looking at her, ending the conversation when he threw some clothes in her direction and waited for the mandatory catwalk. 

It wouldn’t be enough, but it was the best the brothers could ever get. After all, if someone deserved to be happy and in love, it was her.

.

.

.

Taglist: @stfuchaase @k1-an @megs-wonderland @kkeromenoo @va109 @marvelous-maniac @cruzerforce4256 @blarsh @marathedemonoverlord @junni-berry @arylleb @b-a-m-2006

[illubean]

Hi ! Can I request a famous cook reader with Kurapika,Killua,Gon and Feitan?

HXH W/ a FamousCook!Reader

Characters: Gon Freecs, Killua Zoldyck, Kurapika Kurta, Feitan Portor Type: Headcanons, Gn!Reader

I FIGURED OUT HOW TO MAKE GRADIENT TEXT OH YEAH

Warnings: none

Gon Freecs & Killua Zoldyck

these kids literally beg you to cook for them all the time

they both can eat a LOT; they're growing boys and your food is good so you can't blame them

every time you are available there is a new food request and you would be evil to tell these sweet boys no especially when they ask you so nicely >:(

if Killua actually liked his family he'd hire you to be a personal in home chef

the white haired boy probs likes to brag about you to Leorio (or anyone else who will listen, really)

he just likes the eating part but Gon on the other hand can be a big help

he will go out and find the freshest ingredients for you every time he has a request because he is such a sweetheart

you need fish? he will go catch some for you. you need a very specific herb that only grows on the side of high cliffs? gear up Killua, they're going rock climbing

Kurapika Kurta

he never really cared much about cooking and saw it more as a chore if anything

before meeting you that is

he's not the best cook and knows enough to get by and survive; meaning he doesn't really pay much mind to taste

but when he tries your cooking for the first time; a well renowned PROFESSIONAL; he cannot go back

like no wonder why your famous this shit is DELECTABLE

he may ask you politely to cook for him every blue moon but he usually waits until you offer or show up with something new for him to try

since you both are usually busy with work, most of the time when you use him as a guinea pig for new recipes its in your restaurant's kitchen, way after closing

it's almost like it becomes your guys' weekly date night ^__^

Feitan Portor

another one who only cooks for survival and still barely knows what he's doing..

pls don't let him anywhere near the kitchen he will burn the entire building down

he is only allowed to watch from a safe distance. do not let him near any kitchen appliance.

if he REALLY wants to help though maybe he can chop veggies or something

the guy really knows how to use a knife...

you probably have to cook for him all the time if you care about him getting enough nutrition because this guy probably just survives off of packaged stuff

[mrsrookhunt]

hi, hi! could I ask for pt 2 of the twst "what to expect when your lab experiment drinks formula," I just thought it was rlly cute!☺ you can do any sort of characters, I don't mind!

What to Expect When your Lab Experiment Drinks Formula Pt. 2

Hihi! Actually, I wrote that scenario for all the characters in twst I'm writing for right now (I'm new to the fandom), so I've gone ahead and made this into a followup on how they're doing as parents, hope you don't mind! Thanks the ask!

Warnings: Mild Chap 7 spoiler (Lilia), Rook & Floyd want so many kids your house is going to look like the 100 baby sims challenge.

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Part one! Rook Hunt! Part Two (here), Part Three!

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Malleus Draconia

Malleus is running wild with the new heir. As much as he loves you, so much of his time is occupied by playing with his baby that you don't even see him around as often as you used to.

Your new baby is named Ormr, an ancient name directly meaning 'dragon'. Malleus pouted for a bit that it didn't start with 'Mal' but you assured him that it could be a great fresh start before the Draconia family ran out of names.

While you were still a bit disoriented by the strange circumstances, you were adjusting just fine to being a parent. Your little one kept you on your toes, breathing fire onto your homework when you weren't giving them enough attention and flying away with your food when Malleus taught them how to fly short distances.

Get out the broom. There's a dragon baby with a pb&j on the ceiling.

Malleus' love of your child surprised you a bit. Though you had known that he had technically set up the entire creation of the child, you never expected for Malleus to take so strongly to the little dragon fae.

To be fair, the entirety of Briar Valley seemed to rejoice at the news of your little one, so you supposed that your child was more important than it would be to a normal family. This was the continuation of his bloodline, without posing any risk of losing you, his favorite Child of man.

It was perfect, a blissful life together.

Malleus is constantly supportive of you and works hard to be both a father and a partner. He never fails to make your family feel loved and connected, even in trying times.

Rook Hunt

Rook's baby is... Rook's baby.

The little creature is mischievous, even for its young age.

It may not be able to crawl, but provided anything of importance is in its general vicinity, it will be swiped, hidden, or destroyed with an innocent giggle.

Rook manages the child much better than you. Although you love your child to death, they seem to have inherited Rook's predatory mind in their entirety, and it makes Rook far more equipped to handle the baby's demeanor.

When you look away, you'll most certainly be hit with the first thing in reach of your little one. You blame Rook for this, who reveled in showing them documentaries on hunting through the ages from birth.

Soon, it's more complex weapons. Sharp rocks from your trip outside to play have somehow become entrapped in a very deliberately tangled slinky and thrown at the back of your head.

You know it's all in good fun between Rook & your little one, but your baby will be as skilled a hunter as Rook someday. He was not wrong to call your child his little hunter from the moment it fell into your arms.

Rook wants a large family, so you'd better be prepared for lots of little predators running around the house. Good luck trying to keep them from attempting to murder each other.

Extra: Rook is the type to remember that recipe to a tee. If you so much as mention having another child, ten more are going to show up the next day. Honestly he's waiting for you to slip up and mention it. He's absolutely in love with your family, and would be overjoyed to expand it. Best of luck to you.

Floyd Leech

As soon as you were asleep that night, little child snug in a makeshift bassinet next to you, Floyd was already sneaking out to create more children.

You woke up to six more on the bed with you, one of which woke you up directly by biting you for attention.

Overall you've had much trouble managing all the little literal ankle biters. If it weren't for the liberal help from Jade, Grim and Ace, you would not be able to manage all seven.

However, this does not stop you from loving them entirely. The babies love you to death, and you're extremely bonded to them as well. When you and Floyd fight, there's suddenly seven growling creatures lined up behind you, at the ready to attack.

Despite being 110% like Floyd, they are very certain in their favoritism. Two of your children refuse to have him nearby at all.

He claims it breaks his heart, but you catch him praising your little ones with frozen grapes and soda to reinforce their bond with you.

Definitely not what a baby should be fed but when you said they couldn't eat seafood he switched gears to 'land food', and would take no further criticisms.

The best times are cuddle nights. Twice a week, all of you cuddle up in your Ramshackle dorm room and cozy up to a movie and snacks. This continues until well into their childhoods let's be honest. It becomes a Leech family tradition.

Sebek Zigvolt

"Human! Get it! GET IT!!!"

Your baby is very adventurous.... or something close to it.

Always tumbling off furniture and rolling off changing tables, or falling down for some reason or other.

You can have ten sets of eyes on this child and it does not matter, this baby will stubbornly look into your eyes and throw itself off the couch.

There's so much chaos, constantly, when it comes to little baby Zigvolt.

Sebek's excellent training is the only reason that your child has not been hospitalized for concussions.

But his excellent training has not saved him from the baby's love of biting their father. So, so many times. Every time Sebek catches it.

Chomp.

Every time he bathes it.

Chomp.

Everytime he changes a diaper.

Chomp.

Sebek is covered in tiny little baby bites.

But oh, how your baby adores you. In between bouts of defiance and finger-snacking moods, your baby loves to lie in your arms and cuddle.

It's arguably the most comfortable time you get with Sebek and your baby.

And I do mean arguably, because Sebek swears up and down that the baby is happiest in the presence of Malleus, and it's a hill he's willing to die on. But you know he really just wants an excuse to show off your baby to Silver.

Silver is not impressed.

Your baby is the very definition of a headache to Sebek. They cry everytime they see Malleus, they hate any sort of regimen, they love to play and play and... play more. All day long. No work or training to be seen here, baby Zigvolt will NOT be having it unless you want 4 hours of ear-splitting tantrums. And the baby still won't do the work when they're done.

But still, you see Sebek in every aspect of your baby. The strength, the way your child loves you unconditionally, but treats everyone else cautiously, and overall, the refusal to do anything that doesn't align with their little baby whims.

You've lovingly termed your baby 'Stubborn Ziggy the Second'. Sebek is not a fan, but he allowed it after you let go of 'Swamp dog & Swamp puppy'.

Lilia Vanrouge

screaming.

And more screaming.

It is not the baby. It is you trying to find the baby.

"OH MY GOD I LOST IT, I LOST OUR BABY OH MY GOD---"

And then--

"Weh!" The baby pops its head out of a cabinet with its hands up the way Lilia does to scare them.

The baby giggles and coos at its own joke, making grabby hands while it waits for you to come get it.

You're just dumbfounded. You're going to have to scold Lilia, because now your little one is picking up on yet another one of his pranks.

Your baby is a lot like you, with one exception-- your baby is so playful and teasing that it honestly gives The Great Lilia Himself a run for his money.

Last week, you were frantically searching for an expensive piece of jewelry, when it dropped down on your head from the spot where little baby Vanrouge was apparently levitating it from.

Oh yes, your child's magic is coming in strong. Though Lilia's is fading, you tease that perhaps the little one is just absorbing it from him outright, showing him videos of your child's most recent magical displays of strength.

Your family bonds through jokes and playful faces, entirely. Lilia is probably a candidate for The Worst Parent on Earth, so you do most of the housework. It's not like Lilia's never offered, it's that you promised Silver not to let Lilia traumatize his little sibling. All of your best moments are spent by making space in your schedule for your family time.

Lil Vanrouge needs all your love, and Lilia Vanrouge does too. It's a fine balance between upsetting either of them, though dealing with hours of screaming and petty annoyance is not a hard decision.

Just make sure both are getting enough cuddles, and maybe don't judge growing-up lil Vanrouge when they decide they love gaming...

Azul Ashengrotto

Don't forget about Azul, please.

Your baby has the chubbiest cheeks and the cutest smile, but is it as cute as Azul? Cuter, probably. But don't tell him that.

Azul loves your child with all his heart, but he's a bit miffed that it requires so much of your love and attention.

You and baby Ashengrotto are very bonded, so it's rare to see you apart for a moment. And in that moment... Azul is putting on Full-Drama Mode. Cuddles, cuddles. More cuddles. Give him a kiss. Could you please take a bath with him? He's just so tired, he doesn't think he can take a bath by himself. Would you mind giving him a massage? You're too tired? That's ok, you scratch his back and he'll scratch yours. He's not too tired after all. He'll give you a massage.

Your little one is so much like their father, wanting all the attention and love in the world, but getting the priority treatment. Little baby Ashengrotto is Octavinelle's favorite thing ever. Everyone just wants to love on them and see their cuteness.

Azul was going to charge people to see them until you put your foot down and said no.

Azul knows how precious his child is. Secretly, he does want another. Two, just for a healthy statistical number's sake. But he won't tell you that. He's trying to come to terms with the shift in attention with one tiny octomer right now, maybe waiting a couple of years would be more optimal. He will never admit that he's jealous of your child, but claims that he's 'working through his issues when you bring it up.

But Azul will always prioritize his baby as well, even if unintentionally. In the end, the wellbeing of his family comes first and foremost.

And maybe showing off mini-mer to the Mostro lounge staff.