#when i spot a shooting star i make a wish

[snoos-tattoos]

sitting outside at 2 am

looking up at the stars

feeling a cool breeze against my skin

listening to n.flying's 'fate' on repeat

Life is good. ~~

[tonycries]

BUMPIN' THAT!

Synopsis. Handle with care? More like manhandIe - he likes it rough.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, manhandIing, STRONG boys, breaking beds, chokíng, matíng presses, BREÉDING, creampíes, overstím, oraI (fem rec), pússydrúnk men, GOJO’S POWERS, true form Sukuna, dp, SUKUNA’S MOUTHS, cúmplay, innaprópriate use of jujutsu, exhibítionísm (Geto), pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 6.1k

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - TIMBERRR

“Tch, this- damn- bed- can’t even hear my pretty girl.” Toji gruffs out - fuming. Thick fingers gliding down your shifty thighs to spread them into a full nelson so wide. So loud. “Ohh- c’mon now, ma. J-jus’ one more- you wanna make hah- Megs a big brother, right?”

This was what had your husband so relentless for hours now. 

This single dream of you all around and glowing because of him was enough to have him puff out a heady pant of laughter into the crook of your neck. Laughter - he was gone. 

“B-but the bed can’t hck! take anymore, Toji.” 

And Toji doesn’t care - doesn’t give a single shit about the way the poor bed frame rickets with a symphony of creaks after every slow gyration. But you do, apparently.

With a pointed scoff, his big beefy arms circle around your squirming waist to trap you to his hulky body. Branding the curve of his fat head into your clingy walls so hard that it makes you see stars-

CRACK!

“Heh, whoops…guess the bed isn’t a problem anymore, doll.”

Now, usually Toji Fushiguro was one to keep his inhuman strength in check. Usually, he didn’t go overboard. 

Usually. 

But oh he couldn’t bring it in himself to feel even an ounce of regret when you gasp. Whirling your drunken eyes around to meet his sleazy grin - he knew what he was doing. 

Pecking a trailway of innocent kisses down your thoroughly tear-glossed cheeks, Toji licks a languid line up the salty taste. And he’s still not stopping. Hell, he’s not even slowing down - could barely even imagine it.

Because Toji Fushiguro is out of control. Feral. Jostling his hips upwards into yours to rummage around your stretchy walls. His thick shaft spreads your gummy channel open oh-so-perfectly to nudge up against your hidden sweet spots, rotund cockhead shooting out wet sloshes of precum.

“Y-you did that on purpose.” you moan.

“Hmm, did I?” he takes a few seconds to mockingly ponder, dark brows knitting across his sweat-sheened forehead in concern. Before grinning, “Yeah- heh, yeah I did-” Barely even giving you the time to snap back before he’s forcing his relentless, fatigued limbs standing upright. Dragging you in midair right along with him - held up so pliantly like some ragdoll in a full nelson hooked underneath your dangling legs. “-but I don’t hear hngh- her complainin’.”

God, if anything it was the opposite.

Because your sloppy cunt was talking for you. Wrenching out the most obscenely syrupy squelches that make Toji’s mouth water. 

Dragging his tongue down his lips and toying with the edge of his scar in a way he wishes he could with your slobbery pussy. “L-look at that. She’s m-more than happy to be all filled up- she’s practically hngh- begging for one more. Isn’t she?”

And you could hear the way that Toji’s deep baritone cracks at the very end. It didn’t even sound like him - unsteady and hot. Begging.

Muscles flexing when he bounces you up and down- You didn’t even know if he was in control of his heavenly restriction at this point.

Bulging biceps bruise into your tender skin when he’s slamming you bent over all prettily onto the cool mahogany surface of your desk. One leg hiking upwards, the other kneeing open your boneless thighs wider. Pound after heavy pound that rattles the furniture against the wall. 

“This won’t do-” he groans, circling the very ends of his fingers around your stretched hole. Stuffing back those creamy dredges of remnants from his cum from just before, “-told ya to t-take it not waste it.”

He’s so mean. Gifting the curve of your pussymound with a sharp swat! that leaves syrupy splatters of seed glossing all down Toji’s palm. His wrist. All for him to dart out a tongue down the filthy mess, before plugging back into your overspilling pussy. 

“M-maybe you should just- ah-” You struggle uselessly in his hold, your bumbling mess of babbles so sweet in his ears that it makes his sensitive cock twitch. “-fill me up all over a-again, baby-”

Oh.

Oh.

Now, he knew you were thoroughly drunken on his cock, but he didn’t think you were already this fucked stupid. Fuck twitching - Toji thinks he could cum right then and there. 

“Ah f-fuck- s’that what my pretty mama wants, hm?” Uncharacteristically gently, he’s swiping away a few stray plaster pieces that had fallen their way down from the wall. “Wan’ me to fill this c-cute cunt ‘ntil she heh- can’t fit anymore, huh?” Bruising now. His hip bones on your ass, fingers around your hips, twitchy balls so heavy and smacking away against your drooling pussy. Veiny knuckles of his clasp around the edge of the desk to fuck you like he hates you. Out of control. “To f-fuck her until she- haah- makes me a daddy a-all over again?”

“Yes!” you’re nodding half-lucidly. Shaky fingers clawing their way over the expensive desk, those office documents you really should’ve been working on, allll the way around to drag red, red lines down Toji’s throat. “Need it- hngh- n-need more Toji so badly-”

And he gulps, eyes glassing over with fucking tears at the sting. So good. Hissing, “F-filthy girl.” Two of his fat fingers dance their groping way down to your plump clit and pinches, “Then ya better take it- all-”

You see white-hot electricity pass by yours eyes when you cum - or maybe that was the way that Toji fucks up his orgasm into you like an animal. 

Feral.

Wave after wave of thick seed being milked so thoroughly by your gripping walls. It makes him slump every muscle of his towering body drained, he’s falling onto two pathetic elbows to crush you underneath his bodyweight. 

There’s so much of him. And Toji only has to blink. He only has to crack his dewy eyes open a mere millimeter, one sneaking glance downwards at your gaping cunt before-

THUD!

“Oh, mama—” he gasps - and you do, too. But not for the same reason as Toji, no, because you’re just now noticing that your desk was sagging suspiciously low. 

You don’t get to ask since when, because in a split-second, you’re being wrangled onto all fours on the floor. 

Still not done. Still not pulling out. Still not slowing down a singular second, Toji rests one of his feet on top of your head. Hard. “Can’t break the f-floor now…can we?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Evil twin?!

“Y-you want me to what?” Nanami’s husky baritone quakes - trembling at your little request. Jittery fingers sensually smack! smack! smacking his sodden tip down onto your sweet sopping pussy lips. Filthy. “Be rough? Are you sure, my love?”

“Of course, Ken. I trust you–” you’re batting your lashes up at your half-delirious husband in a way that makes his lower lip wobble. “It’ll be a good way to de-stress, dontcha think?”

Is he in heaven?

Nanami curls his fingers around that velvety yellow tie he didn’t even bother removing after his overtime.

And he’s so soft when he’s kissing away the pearly beads of sweat on your forehead, dragging his plump lips down, down, down to press pretty peck after peck on your lips. Hushly whispering, “B-but the kids are just down the hall- we don’t ah- don’t want them to wake up…”

You only grin, “Then you better make sure I stay quiet, hm?”

And that string of slurring words makes Nanami pant, it makes his glassy hazel eyes widen almost comically- and, truly, you’d almost forgotten just what your powerful husband was capable of. 

Just how ruthless. 

Because it doesn’t take even a split-second for him to flip you onto all fours. You yelp when that tie of his finds its way to tie your wrists together. All but ripping your silky nightgown, and you…moan.

Oh? He jostles two thumbs to smear your soaking folds open and smiles. How cute.

“S’fuckin’ drenched-” Nanami hisses. Strained. In awe. Peaking in one syrupily coated finger into his mouth and moaning. And you just gasp when you’re being gifted with a bruising smack! right around the rim of your entrance, slobbering out a fresh wave of sweet, sweet slick. “-s’this all f’me, darling?”

“Y-yes-”

Swat!

“Ah ah- none of that. Big girls don’t stutter.”

All you can do is whirl your eyes back over your shoulder because who is this? 

But what you’re met with is the utterly sexy display of your ruined husband - strands of his blond hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks flushed, eyes wild. Heaving. Like something primal was just awoken…

Clutching onto the wrinkled sheets, you mewl, “Yes- s’all for you, Kento–”

Shit. You watch as his rosy lips sag open into an oh! before craning downwards to spit a silky rivulet of saliva right into your glistening pussy. 

And even after so many years, even after having kids, you’d still never gotten used to the way Nanami’s girth would split you apart so sinfully. How massive he was. Barging between your pursed lips to feed you inch after hefty inch of his girth, they’re dragging out the most sinful squelches from down below. And from your mouth-

“Shh sh sh-” He’s covering your slack maw shut with all five long fingers, and you keen at the cool contrast of Nanami’s wedding ring. “Quietly- love- quiet. You can do it- ah- y-you can take my fuckin’ cock, m’kay?”

Nanami’s words were every bit of gentleness that his hips weren’t. 

Fucking into you in languid, deep strokes to swipe a steamy wave of precum down your sweetest spots. It was too much-

“W-where do you think you’re going, my love?” 

Fuck.

You didn’t even realize the way that your helpless fingers were closing in around the headboard, gyrating your hips away from the thoroughly mean crashes of your husband’s cock. Blinking away the big, bulbous tears in your eyes, you muffle out a whiny, “S-sorry Ken-”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” Without warning, five harsh fingers wrap around your tender throat in a vice-like necklace - hauling your limp body up against his front. “If you’re really s-sorry, darling, wontcha be a good girl n’ open that mouth f’me?”

Usually, your husband was the absolute sweetest. Mumbling out sweet praises into your ear and helping you take your time to milk him whole. 

But right now Nanami was impatient. 

He was out of control - like a completely different person.

Treating you like some ragdoll when he’s tugging down your mouth open with a few calloused pads of his fingers. Leering his handsome face closer to spit. 

Missing halfway - on purpose.

Nanami chuckles when he’s lolling his pinkish tongue out to swipe at the translucent splatters. Pinning you to his cushiony pecs with that rough restraint, he’s slanting a syrupy sweet kiss at the corner of your mouth. “Good- fuckin’- girl-”

And the bed creaks. The bed protests - headboard rickety when Nanami slams! one veined arm down and rams everything he has to give - seconds away from shattering, both him and the bedframe. Everything. 

Shit-

Shit shit shi- he swears you just got wetter.

Nanami gapes, powerful hips thrusting and thrusting until your ass scratches up against that golden happy trail running through the middle of his abs. Weepy, rotund head probing against your spongy cervix and just the slight recoil that had him parting stickily from it makes him almost sob. 

“There we go- thereee we go-” Nanami rattles out, hollowed. Every squeeze of your clingy walls around his throbbing shaft was so cozy, fucking you into the mattress until his skin reddened. “-there we fuckin’ go- s’what you hngh- wanted, right? Wanted to be fucked like such a slut?”

“Please-” you’re hiccuping, now fully bent into such an obscene curve and wrangling uselessly. “-yes-  yes yes yes feel s’good-”

You’re drooling now, lips falling further and further open with every French kiss Nanami was placing on your bruised and battered g-spot. Dangerously so.

Dangerously loud.

With a proud chuckle, he’s slapping another dripping wet swat on your plump clit - glissading your presoaked slit. Before bullying between your soft lips to swirl his fat digits around your tongue. Deep. Forcing you to taste yourself. 

His gruff moan is dark. Promising. “Told ya to be quiet. The kids are asleep n’ we don’t n-need them to know they’re gonna be ngh- b-big siblings, yet. Right, my love?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - An example…

Now, to Geto Suguru, sex was an art. Sex was the time he could toy with your pretty pussy until you were crying for more, more, more-

So- why is he here - strong limbs jostling your own into such a painful mating press, swollen cockhead battering and bruising away at your bulging g-spot with each pound. Furious. 

All in front of his association, to boot.

Because, Geto Suguru was angry. 

“Ngh- please Suguru- more-”

“What was that?” he’s leering down, lips curled into such a feral grin that was splashed across his pretty features. And you couldn’t answer even if you wanted to, because he’s forcing your knees down to push against your bouncing tits. Folding you utterly in half, he turns to your audience. “Do you think she ah- deserves to speak?”

Through your lusty haze, you don’t get to see the answers. But Geto spits out a husking, “Speak.”

The entire room jolts at his eerie sweet voice - dangerous. Roughened around the edges in a tone he’d never used on you before. 

Batting away a few glistening tears on your lashes, you mumble, “M-m’sorry for ah- costing us the m-mission-”

“Shut up.” And he’s planting a smack onto the sensitive spot on your plump clit so hard that you’re seeing stars - suns, even. Slowing down his mean cadence to carve down every gooey sensitive spot inside you with his throbbing veins. Every rasping word of his was hoarse, punctuated with a thorough clash against the very bottom of your pussy. Pushing your legs up so tight you hear your joints pop! “Do you hngh- know how much I- we trusted you, gorgeous?”

Your nails leave raking red lines down his flexing back, and the way his muscles shifted underneath your touch was drool-worthy. “I-I know- m’sorry-”

“All because ya got a little distracted by the fuck- strongest-” 

And, truly, Geto admits that perhaps he was there to watch you carry out your little spy mission. He admits that the sight of you batting your lashes at a certain sorcerer had him clenching his teeth harder than necessary. Fuming. 

Because you were his. 

It has him looming over the delicate crook of your neck, so up close and personal that every heated pant feels condensed. And he can’t think - can’t do anything but sink his teeth down hard into your skin. Enough to draw blood-

“Fuck! Sugu-” you cry out. “It w-won’t happen again, I promise-”

“Heh, you sure?” Geto grins, but he can’t hide the way the pale column of his neck falls to swipe his inky black hair out of his face. Crushing you like a lawnchair in half, he’s twisting his strong forearm to block your heaving airway. “What do we think? Is our lovely hngh- second-in-command sorry?”

It takes you a few seconds to register he’s not even talking to you, and even more to register the soft, murmuring answers.

You don’t have the right state to even try and understand them right now - but luckily for you, Geto snarls his way into a clash of teeth and lips with yours. Tugging hard on your glossed lower lip, “Better not fuckin’ mess up again.”

Oh, he was still fucking you so furiously. 

Wrestling your pathetically droopy legs further and further up his sculpted deltoids, you’re sure that the tatami mat below would be patterned on your back already. One hand of his cranes behind his neck to pin your ankles together. And Geto-

Shit, Geto was letting his jaw hang slack - drooling. Eyes locked on you and you only.

Whispering, “You’re mine.” The headlock only growing tighter. Dangerous. You didn’t know whether it was from the lack of air or from his ruthless rummages at your mushy walls but it had you so lightheaded. He slides a thumb down your soaking wet slit and presses onto the button of your clit. Hard. “Y-you’re mine here-” Then up, up, up to about halfway down your stomach, splaying out to feel for the lewd nudge of his fat, burning hot head thump! thump! thumping against the insides of your pussy. Inflating you from the inside out. “-and you’re mine here-” Before finally - finally - pressing a saturated kiss onto your lips, as he usually would. “-and here.”

Your leader looked utterly ruined. 

And it’s not long - not long at all - before his sloppy strokes get almost painfully filthy. Before he feels stars burst behind his firmly scrunched shut lids, and his thwacking balls clench. Building and building-

“Open that mouth- fuck! Open it-” Geto hiccups out, plump lower lip trembling at the sheer need. And the very moment your lips are opening just wide enough - he’s pulling out. Your disappointed whine falling on deaf ears when Geto drags himself up to straddle your pretty face with his thick, muscular thighs. And he cums. “Take it- hngh- you’ll fuckin’ take it alll up- wontcha?”

Creamy ribbons of his seed splat their way right onto the middle of your tastebuds and it makes Geto huff out a drunken bout of laughter at the mess he’s making. Thick fingers flying up and down to milk out every pearly ounce of his cum onto your face. 

Heh, it’s not a bad punishment - he’s musing.

Guiding to swipe the curve of his reddened tip along your trembly lips like a little lipstick. You look so much like his that he can’t help but cum- again. And again. And again and again and-

“Sh-shit look what ya do to me-” Geto moans, and you swear it cracks into a whine at the very end. “I can’t- oh fuck- can’t stop.”

He wouldn’t stop - he couldn’t.

Greedy gaze locked on you, one massive palm slams! somewhere above your head to hunch his toned body over. Geto’s entire body wracks violently above you with each shuddering wave. Filthy. “Can’t be a-anyone- can’t be anyone else. B-because…you’re mine, right?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Candy Crush

Oh…if heaven exists then it would be right here, right now - with Choso desperately stuffing himself into your thinly-clothed cunt for the first time ever. Breathing- no, gulping in deep heavals of your essence in a way that makes his dewy eyes roll back. 

“B-baby- my pretty baby…are you sure?” he’s gasping out in feverishly hot puffs of condensation. And despite the tiny tremor of uncertainty in his voice, he’s spreading your thighs even further open all for him.

You huff out a drunken giggle, tugging impatiently at one of his sweat-dampened locks. “M’sure, Cho- really need you.”

“Oh, d-don’t say that-” he’s hiccuping, coral pink lips wobbling. And you feel the back of Choso’s thumb swipe down the puffy mound of your soaked pussy, smearing down a wet coating all over his slender digits. “I-I can’t when you say things like that- oh-”

Anything and everything that Choso was babbling is thrown out of the window with just one darting lick at the sloppy dredges of your sweet, sweet slick on his fingers. With an electric-like jolt, he’s popping it into his mouth to suck. That syrupy taste enough to have him bucking his achy erection down hard into the plush mattress. 

To have him gape, “B-baby…”

And before you know it, he’s dragging you halfway down the mattress like a toy to roughly attach his lips with your own swollen ones - too hasty, too depraved to even think of pulling aside your sticky panties. Strong forearms pinning your squirming thighs so hard to the bed that you half-wonder whether it would bruise. His heated tongue darts through and around that sliver of fabric - tasting it.

“Y-you’re ngh! liking this, baby?” you coo, threading your fingers through his strands in a useless attempt to get an answer - but Choso barely budges. Biceps flexing when he cushions you to his body even tigher. “How are you f-feeling?”

It takes him a few seconds to even hear your words - too wrapped up tonguing away your absolutely ruined panties to swirl a sensual circle around your saturated clit. Groaning gingerly, “It feels- ngh- feels like I could cum from j-jus’ this.”

And he was being so honest that it made Choso blush - a bright crimson flush that started from his hollow cheeks and all the way down to his bawling, reddish head. Hips rutting over and over into the silken sheets, but he couldn’t spare a hand to fuck into it right now.

None at all - because Choso needed to have you cum all over his face before he did himself. 

So you gasp when he drags his tongue away with a final, spit-slicked smooch right on your puffy clit. Whimpering out a soft, “R-ride my face, baby–”

That nod of yours is just barely done halfway through, just barely moving your head affirmative before with a sudden nudge of his soft, mountainous palms on your hips - you’re straddling Choso’s pretty face. And he’s not letting you hover - no, the complete opposite, in fact.

You’re being manhandled with a rough hand around your waist to drag your full weight onto Choso’s greedy mouth. Puckering up to plunge his tongue into your sloppy entrance, swirling around a wet circle at your rim before fucking into you.

Pure animal instinct - he’s so messy.

Muffling out a throaty, “S-so sweet- fuck- like candy. S-s’this right? Does this feel good- ah-” Those half-lidded eyes of his are immediately latching onto the way a few of your trembly fingers were dancing their way down to your neglected clit. 

Your boyfriend - your sweet, gentle boyfriend - is swatting away that hand rudely. Brows furrowing together into a plea when he rolls his free thumb over your plump clit. Toying. 

“Nuh uh- m’sorry, baby- m’sorry but-” Eyes blazing. “-s’all for me.” 

He’s so chin-deep into your cunt that every word comes out lewdly garbled, poking the upper half of his face over to suck on one of your sensitive pussy lips and bites. Choso’s dragging his face wherever you’d let him and it was hypnotic. “H-have the biggest fuckin’ c-crush on you, y’know?”

You didn’t know if he even realized what he was saying right now.

“Y-you do?” you’re tittering, core aching with the quick, dribbling gyrations of your hips down onto his face. But it wasn’t enough - it might never be enough and he was constantly leaving a light swat on your ass to make you use him. Faster. 

“Mhmm–” Choso nods and nods and nods and he’s plunging his hot and heavy tongue into your gummy walls. “-the biggest c-crush. I really wanna hngh! make you my- ngh- my lover…my wife.”

“Choso…” you hum, voice sending blood pumping to his beautifully flushed face all over again. And he finds it in himself to bite into your clit and suck. Shit. “-I am your lover.”

“R-really?” In awe.

You don’t know who’s cumming first - you or Choso. 

Because only with a few more syrupy slurps of his tongue on your throbbing cunt, you’re gushing all your juices down the lower half of his face. Forming an obscenely wet mask all down his dripping chin, his nose, all the way up to his cheekbones. 

And oh Choso loves it. 

Choso can’t get enough.

He can’t help but gulp and gulp down every one of your pearly splatters as he fucks you through your high. Over and over-.

That is, until-

“N-noo-” Choso’s whimpering, hands bruising where they’re immediately digging into your waist to halt you to a stop. And his bulging biceps flex in such a mouth-watering way when he’s easily plopping your entire body weight down onto his lap easily - onto his urgently twitching cock. Nudging apart your puffy pussy folds to slide just his fattened tip into the snug channel of your cunt before- “N-need to cum inside. Please- ngh! Need to.”

And Choso’s cumming just from tasting your pretty pussy. 

Shooting out thick waves of his seed, your clingy walls are gripping so tightly around his bolting cock that it makes him sob. It makes him attach his fingers bruisingly onto your waist as he ruts his hips up mindlessly. 

“C-can I taste it again, baby…” He’s gulping at the oozes of cum that overspills a glossy coat down his shaft in the perfect creampie. “-w-wanna see if it tastes sweeter now.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - “Both…”

“I should fuck ya stupid-” Sukuna utters, followed by a rough sinking of his teeth into your earlobe. And it takes everything in him to keep out the tiny cracking of his rumbling baritone, to try and not fucking stutter like some weakling. “-th-then maybe ya wouldn’t be able to hah- talk outta that slutty pussy, brat.”

You’re huffing in indignation, biting your own set of teeth into the tattooed skin of the king’s shoulder. Barely even a kitten nip to him. “I-I’m serious, Kuna- I wanna take b-”

SLAM!

His curled first comes down hard onto the decadent armrest on his royal throne. Anything - everything - that’s keeping his composure right now. 

Sukuna spits out a heated, “Don’t you dare s-say it-”

You roll your eyes, jostling your hips a little too sensually when you lean up to his toweringly inhuman figure. All the way up to whisper smugly in his ear, “-both.”

It’s silence, at first.

And you’re not even sure that Sukuna heard you at first - that special word just about on the tip of your tongue once more - before, wordlessly, he picking you up with two of his big, beefy arms. Fully. Remaining two curling around the thick hilts of his matchingly hard cocks to guide them all the way to your tearful slit. 

“Well then…” Sukuna’s dark snicker snaps you out of your reverent awe, because his fat, rotund tips were so swollen. The sheer circumference staggering that you had no idea how they were going to fit. “-better take it all then, woman.”

It feels like you’re being split-apart, Sukuna’s barely even bullying his twin heads to spearhead open your sopping cunt and you swear you already feel him poking around at your womb. He’s so ruthless. Not hesitating for even a second before pumping your walls stock full of his thickened inches. Over and over-

“Well?” he’s manspreading his muscular thighs in a way that makes you bounce precariously. All four arms crossing while he bears you with a sleazy grin you know doesn’t bode well. “Was heh- whinin’ and crying until you got it. Take it, then.”

Oh, he was so mean.

But you weren’t one to back down so easily, either. 

“F-fine-” you huff, hands steadying on his flexing shoulders when you’re gyrating your hips downwards. Gulping up his long, hefty inches that rub against all your sweet spots without even trying. “Shit- y-you’re in so deep, Kuna-”

And this makes Sukuna stiffen, it makes his massive cocks swell even girthier with a sudden rush of blood likely all the way from his brain. Leaving him throughly pussydrunken but in denial. Smack! You feel his sharp nails sting against your ass. “D-don’t think those ngh- filthy words of yours are gonna work this time, lil’ human.”

“M’jus’ saying-” you whine. Splaying a hand down to the nudging divot forming at your stomach, and you’re pressing down hard to thumb over the ruthless curve of his rummaging tips. “-can already feel you right h-here n’ you’re not even halfway- mmpf-”

Sukuna has to make you shut up.

He needs to.

And his first way of going about it is to cover your mouth with one of his monstrous hands, manifesting that second mouth of his from his stomach to smear across his palm. Into a wet, sinful French kiss. 

And his second? Well…

“God- y-you don’t even know what you-” he shudders out, two hands possessively forming a vice-like grip onto your waist. Body wracking with heaves when your clingy walls mesh and mold around his rock-hard cocks. “-what you do to me.”

You squeal - or, at least, you think you do. It’s muffled into your filthy, filthy kiss with Sukuna’s other mouth when he’s slamming your hips down riotously into his.

There’s no warning. No start signal - nothing before all of a sudden the king of curses is bucking your hips down, down, down into his over and over. Like some toy. The stretch is so dizzying that you can feel your maw slack open, drool trailing its delirious pathway down the side of your lips - with his excess mouth happily slurping it all up.

You honestly feel like you’re being ruined. 

Pulled to and fro anywhere and everywhere.

“Heh, too much?” Sukuna has the audacity to giggle - giggle. Low and husky in a hot pant against your ear. 

Yet, of course, the king never apologizes - well, to anyone except you. But for now he’s only stringing his hand away from your mouth, snapping away delicate ropes of saliva from the both of you. Instead, replacing it with another hand attached right onto your plump clit - and with it, his second mouth.

“Oh- shit shit shit-” you jolt. The dual- no, triple stimulation of his cocks kissing swooping glides of precum down your spongy cervix all the way to your g-spot and his mouth sucking on your sensitive nub was too much. Toying with you. “I-I didn’t know you could- ngh- could do- that-”

And Sukuna laughs, only grinding his palm up in a sopping wet smear against your stuffed pussymound to lap up each splatter of your sweet, sweet juices. Dredged out every time his hefty, cum-filled balls slam into your cunt.

“Special treatment fer taking ngh- both of me.” he’s grunting. The third of his beefy arms smush your cheeks together into an embarrassing pout, overgrown digits so large that he’s squeezing into your airway. “Does the queen h-have any more requests, hm?”

You can only shake your head no - anything more and you had a feeling that you just might not be making it out in one piece. That is, if you do this time. 

“Good.” And Sukuna only smiles. Three of his arms slithering their way around your trembly body - the fourth taking its sweet, sweet time to dive into your clit and bite. Lightly. You’re giving up practically every ounce of control to him. “Now, jus’ relax n’ let your husband take over.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Stronger.

“I-I can take it-”

“Toru…”

“Promise- ngh- promise I can take it, s-sweetheart. Heh, it’s you that has to be worried.”

You had absolutely zero idea how an impromptu sparring session with Gojo Satoru - the strongest, longtime rival and absolute pain in your ass - ended up like this. With you flat on your back and splayed out across his navy bedsheets in such a tight mating press, with him running on complete fumes and his revered cursed technique to drag out his- sixth orgasm of the night. 

But you weren’t complaining.

And neither was Gojo - in fact, mumbling out a slurring slew of profanities into your open mouth. Followed by the most broken “I’m w-winning this bet-”

“No-” you’re spitting hot-headedly with a merciless little bite on his pouty lower lip, and it’s so pretty the way his lips grow as rawly rosy as the rest of his blushing cheeks. Leveraging your years and years of practice to flip the two of you over, “I-I’m winning.”

Neither of you could even remember what the bet was about. 

Something about who’d admit defeat? Ah, Gojo doesn’t give a shit - not even your puffy pussy lips were sliding down his overstimulated cock. Sheathing him in a freshly drenched coating of your honeyed slick when you straddle his slender hips and ride.

“Heheh- y-you think this is- oh!” His hands wrangle around your waist urgently in such a bruising grip to slow down your sloppy cadence. And he’s using his powerful arms to completely drag your drooling cunt in languid, lazy bounces up and down up and down up and- bruising. “-this isn’t going to m-make me-”

But he already was.

Oh, he already was with every clingy kiss of your gummy walls around his steadily swelling cock, every syrupy slosh of cum that made his heavy balls clench. And it’s only a matter of time before his thoroughly overwhelmed cock bursts out once more. 

Gojo’s letting his head loll drunkenly against the sweat-dampened pillows - shit, everything was such a mess. From the creamy puddle of cum sobbing from your sopping wet slit, to the way your fatigued bodies were so furiously glissading across one another. 

“Make you what?” you bat your lashes down at him in a way that should be infuriating, but it only makes his reddish tip twitch into your g-spot. “Admit it- ngh- a-admit defeat, Toru–”

But that’s the last thing he would do. 

There’s a sudden crack! of jujutsu in the air, and you already know from who before your stupidly fucked mind even registers it. Because it only takes a split-second - a split-second - for Gojo to teleport from right underneath you being ridden out of his fucking mind to be shovelling all girthy inches of his cock into you from behind.

“Ah! What-” you yelp, precariously collapsing onto the silken pillowcases now. Whirling your greedy gaze over your shoulder, “Th-that’s cheating.”

And Gojo doesn’t even hear you - fuck, he doesn’t even feel alive. 

The only thing one his delirious mind right now being the way your dribbling cunt was swallowing him up so well. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, entire heavy bodyweight slumping on top of yours when he’s jackhammering inch after inch.Tiny, mindless gyrations just to fit deeper - as if your clingy walls had forgotten how massive he was already. So heavy - you could barely breathe.

And it’s only when he’d bottomed out, it’s only when Gojo could feel your saturated folds kiss his fat base, his weepy tip drawing a long line of translucent precum across your cervix that you hear a noise from above you. 

It’s hoarse - pained. You’re halfway concerned before you hear that rumbling groan turn into a bout of laughter. Humorless, so, so pussydrunken. 

Gojo’s eyes glow with miniscule bolts of lightning when he’s dragging your face to crane upwards into his oh-so-feral gaze. The toothy grin smeared across his handsome features made it seem like he was fucking you like he hated you. Whispering - low. “You win th-this round, my girl.”

You feel a sudden spike in cursed energy - and you’re sure every electrical source within the next twenty-five miles does, too. Before Gojo plants one foot on your head and angles his hips deeply to pummel your womb with thick, knocking spurts of cum.

Fuck, every sudden ribbon of seed had him pressing into you ever deeper. Rougher. And Gojo could feel your snug cunt drain his tight balls again. Again and again and again until his furious divot could only pump out a few wispy strings of creamy white.

“God…” Gojo breathes, so strained. He’s swiftly thwacking! a few fingertips against your plump clit - buzzing jujutsu hot on his digits. Swirling those excess dredges of cum to make such a filthy mess of your pretty cunt. “This fuckin’ p-pussy feels so hngh- good. S’fuckin’ unfair-”

“Unfair? You’re the one using-”

And, well, usually Gojo loved hearing you run that smart mouth of yours. But right now all he could do was run his slender fingers over to your sensitive nub over and over - before punishing you with a tiny squeeze. “Mhm- all’s fair in l-love and ngh- war.”

Shit, he can already feel the exact moment when you cum - your toes curling, kiss-bitten lips letting out such a sweet keen of his name when the tingling waves take over. 

“O-of course, you ah- quote that-” you’re babbling out, strangled moans choking out with every clash of his bawling head into your g-spot. He’s memorized it by now. Perfected it.

Probing so deep that you think Gojo’s ready to batter a fat, circular bruise at that spot. Especially when his powerful hands wrap in a vice-like restraint around both your arms; biceps flexing, slack lips grunting as he manhandles your entire body to lift cleanly off the mess you call sheets. 

The strongest - he’s such a show-off.

Snickering when you gasp at the change in angle middair, jostling his expansive cock inside you rummagingly. He’s sweetly coating your insides with a sweltering hot pool of cum - once. Twice. And then nothing. 

Shooting blanks. 

You flinch when you feel the splat! splat! splat! of something wet, slowly realizing that Gojo was crying pearly tears from his pussydrunkenly droopy eyes. Smearing it when he rubs his face into the crook of your neck with a purr, “B-best out of ten…?”

“...”

A/N. PHEWWW I got CARRIED AWAYY with this one oml it was saur fun.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[pucksandpower]

Little Star

Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader

Summary: you’ve grown used to being overshadowed by your older brother, merely a distant star that seems dull in comparison to the sun of Maranello … and then Max happens

Based on this request

The sun dips low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the paddock of the Autodromo Nazionale Monza. The air still buzzes with excitement from the day’s race, but behind the Ferrari hospitality unit, a different energy permeates the air.

You lean against the cool metal wall, sliding down until you’re sitting on the concrete, knees pulled to your chest. Tears stream silently down your face as you struggle to catch your breath between sobs. The sounds of celebration echo in the distance, a stark contrast to your solitude.

Footsteps approach, and you hastily wipe at your eyes, hoping to erase any evidence of your breakdown. A familiar figure rounds the corner, stopping short when he spots you.

“Hey,” Max Verstappen says, his brow furrowing with concern. “Are you alright?”

You force a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’m fine,” you insist, your voice wavering slightly. “Just ... needed some air.”

Max doesn’t buy it for a second. He crouches down beside you, his blue eyes searching your face. “You don’t look fine,” he says gently. “What’s going on?”

You bite your lip, debating whether to confide in him. After a moment, you sigh. “It’s stupid,” you mumble.

“If it’s making you cry, it’s not stupid,” Max counters. He settles down next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. “Come on, talk to me.”

You take a shaky breath. “It’s my birthday,” you admit quietly.

Max’s eyebrows shoot up. “Today? Why aren’t you celebrating?”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips. “Because everyone forgot,” you explain, fresh tears welling up. “Charles won the race, and ... I’m happy for him, I really am. But it’s like I don’t even exist when he’s around, you know?”

Max nods slowly, understanding dawning on his face. “That must be really tough,” he says softly.

You nod, sniffling. “I’ve always felt like I was in his shadow, but today ... it just hit me harder, I guess. Even my mom forgot.”

“That’s not okay,” Max says firmly. “Your birthday should be special, no matter what else is happening.”

You shrug, picking at a loose thread on your jeans. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

“No, it’s not fine,” Max insists. He stands up suddenly, determination etched on his face. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Before you can protest, he’s gone, jogging away towards the paddock. You’re left alone again, wondering what he’s up to.

True to his word, Max returns a few minutes later, slightly out of breath and holding something behind his back. “Close your eyes,” he instructs with a grin.

Curious, you comply. There’s a rustling sound, and then Max’s voice rings out, clear and slightly off-key: “Happy birthday to you ...”

Your eyes fly open in surprise. Max stands before you, holding a small cupcake with a single candle stuck in the frosting. His face is illuminated by the flickering flame as he continues to sing.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Y/N, happy birthday to you!”

Emotion wells up in your chest, a lump forming in your throat. “Max,” you whisper, overwhelmed. “You didn’t have to do this.”

He crouches down, carefully balancing the cupcake. “Of course I did,” he says softly. “Everyone deserves to feel special on their birthday. Now make a wish and blow out your candle.”

You close your eyes, thinking for a moment before leaning forward to extinguish the tiny flame. When you open them again, Max is beaming at you.

“What did you wish for?” He asks, settling back down beside you and offering you the cupcake.

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Can’t tell you, or it won’t come true.”

Max laughs, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Fair enough. So, twenty-two, huh? How does it feel to be so old?”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help chuckling. “Says the guy who’s practically ancient at twenty-six.”

“Hey!” Max protests, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know I’m in my prime.”

The banter feels natural, and you find yourself relaxing for the first time all day. You take a bite of the cupcake, savoring the sweetness. “This is really good,” you mumble around a mouthful of frosting. “Where did you even find it?”

Max grins mischievously. “I have my sources. Can’t reveal all my secrets, can I?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Thank you, Max. Really. This ... it means a lot.”

His expression softens. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry the rest of your family forgot. That’s not fair to you.”

You sigh, your momentary happiness fading slightly. “It’s not their fault. Charles had a big win today, and-”

“Stop,” Max interrupts gently. “You don’t have to make excuses for them. Your feelings are valid.”

You blink, surprised by his directness. “I ... I guess I’m just used to it,” you admit. “It’s always been about Charles. Even before he got into F1, he was the golden child. I love him, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes ...”

“Sometimes you want to be seen too,” Max finishes for you. You nod, grateful that he understands.

“Exactly. And it’s not just Charles. Arthur’s always been following in his footsteps, and Lorenzo ... well, he’s the oldest. I’m just ... there.”

Max frowns. “That’s not true. You’re your own person, with your own talents and dreams. Have you talked to them about how you feel?”

You shake your head. “I don’t want to make them feel bad. Especially Charles. He works so hard, and he deserves his success.”

“His success doesn’t diminish your worth,” Max says firmly. “You deserve to be celebrated too.”

Tears prick at your eyes again, but for a different reason this time. “Thank you,” you whisper. “I don’t think anyone’s ever put it quite like that before.”

Max smiles softly. “Well, it’s true. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty amazing.”

A blush creeps up your cheeks. “You barely know me,” you point out.

“I know enough,” Max counters. “I know you’re kind enough to put your family’s happiness before your own. I know you’re strong enough to handle being overlooked without becoming bitter. And I know you’ve got a great taste in cupcakes.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep in your chest. “Well, when you put it like that ...”

Max grins, clearly pleased to have made you smile. “So, birthday girl, what do you want to do now? The night is young, and I happen to know where they keep the good champagne around here.”

You hesitate, glancing towards the paddock where you can still hear the sounds of celebration. “I don’t know ... I should probably go find my family.”

Max raises an eyebrow. “On your birthday? Come on, live a little. They can wait.”

A spark of rebellion ignites in your chest. “You know what? You’re right. Let’s do it.”

Max jumps to his feet, offering you his hand. “That’s the spirit! First stop, champagne. Then, who knows? Maybe we’ll steal a golf cart and go joyriding around the track.”

You take his hand, allowing him to pull you up. “Is that even allowed?”

Max’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “Probably not. But it’s your birthday, so I think we can bend the rules a little.”

As you follow Max towards the paddock, a warmth spreads through your chest that has nothing to do with the lingering summer heat. For the first time in years, you feel seen. Appreciated. Special.

“Hey, Max?” You say, causing him to pause and look back at you.

“Yeah?”

You smile, genuine and bright. “Thank you. For everything.”

Max’s expression softens. “Anytime,” he says softly. “Now come on, birthday girl. Let’s make this a night to remember.”

As you walk side by side into the fading light, you can’t help but feel that this birthday might just be the start of something new. Something exciting. Something uniquely yours.

And for once, you’re not thinking about Charles, or Arthur, or anyone else. You’re just thinking about you, and the possibilities that stretch out before you like an open road.

Happy birthday indeed.

***

The Ferrari hospitality suite thrums with energy, laughter and music spilling out into the warm Italian night. Charles Leclerc stands at the center of it all, a wide grin plastered across his face as he basks in the glow of his hard-fought victory. Champagne flows freely, and the air is thick with the scent of celebration.

“To Charles!” Someone shouts, raising a glass. The room erupts in cheers, and Charles feels a swell of pride in his chest.

“Speech! Speech!” The crowd chants, and Charles laughs, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright,” he concedes, clearing his throat. “I just want to say thank you to everyone here. This win ... it’s not just mine. It’s ours. The team, the mechanics, the engineers, the strategists ... we did this together.”

More cheers erupt, and Charles feels a hand clap him on the back. He turns to see his teammate grinning broadly.

“Well said, amigo,” Carlos says, slinging an arm around Charles’ shoulders. “You drove like a champion today.”

Charles beams, the praise from his teammate adding to the euphoria of the moment. “Thanks, Carlos. Couldn’t have done it without you pushing me.”

Carlos laughs, taking a swig of his drink. “Always happy to provide motivation. Oh, hey, before I forget — can you pass on my birthday wishes to Y/N? I meant to find her earlier, but things got a bit crazy.”

The words hit Charles like a bucket of ice water. His smile freezes, his eyes widening in horror. “W-what?” He stammers, hoping he’s misheard.

Carlos frowns, noticing the sudden change in Charles’ demeanor. “Your sister? It’s her birthday today, right? Her 22nd?”

Charles feels the room spin around him. How could he have forgotten? His little sister’s birthday, on the same day as his big win. The realization crashes over him in waves of guilt and shame.

“Charles?” Carlos prompts, concern evident in his voice. “You okay, mate?”

Charles shakes his head, trying to clear the fog of shock. “I ... I forgot,” he whispers, more to himself than to Carlos. “How could I forget?”

Carlos’ eyes widen in understanding. “Oh, shit,” he mutters. “You didn’t remember?”

Charles runs a hand through his hair, panic rising in his chest. “I was so focused on the race, and then the win ... God, I’m such an idiot.”

He scans the room frantically, hoping against hope that he’ll spot you among the partygoers. But of course, you’re not there. Why would you be, when your own family forgot your birthday?

“I need to find her,” Charles says, already moving towards the exit. “I need to apologize.”

Carlos nods, squeezing Charles’ shoulder supportively. “Go. I’ll cover for you here if anyone asks.”

Charles barely hears him, his mind racing as he pushes through the crowd. He bursts out of the hospitality suite, the cool night air a stark contrast to the stuffy interior.

“Y/N!” He calls out, his voice echoing in the near-empty paddock. But there’s no response.

Panic rising, Charles pulls out his phone, fumbling with the screen as he opens his contacts. He hits your name, holding the phone to his ear as it rings.

Once. Twice. Three times. Then, your voicemail.

“Hey, this is Y/N. Leave a message!”

Charles swears under his breath, ending the call. He tries again, and again, but each time it goes straight to voicemail.

“Come on, come on,” he mutters, pacing back and forth. Where could you be? Who would you have gone to when your family let you down?

A thought strikes him, and he quickly dials another number.

“Hello?” Arthur’s sleepy voice answers.

“Arthur!” Charles practically shouts. “Is Y/N with you?”

There’s a pause, then confusion in Arthur’s tone. “No? Why would she be? Aren’t you guys celebrating?”

Charles feels his heart sink even further. “Arthur, it’s her birthday. We forgot.”

“Shit,” Arthur breathes. “How did we ... God, we’re terrible brothers.”

“I know, I know,” Charles says, the guilt eating away at him. “I’m trying to find her now. Can you call Maman and Lorenzo, see if they’ve heard from her?”

“Yeah, of course,” Arthur agrees quickly. “I’ll call you back if I hear anything.”

Charles ends the call, his mind whirling. Where else could you be? He tries to think back to earlier in the day, wondering if he’d seen you at all after the race. But everything is a blur of champagne and celebration, and he realizes with a sickening jolt that he can’t remember the last time he actually spoke to you.

He’s about to start knocking on motorhome doors when another idea strikes him. Quickly, he opens the Life360 app on his phone. The family had started using it a few years back, mainly to keep track of each other during race weekends.

Charles waits impatiently for the app to load, praying that it will show your location. But when the map finally appears, his heart sinks. Your icon is greyed out, with a message underneath: “Location permissions turned off.”

“No, no, no,” Charles mutters, refreshing the app desperately. But the result is the same. You’ve deliberately turned off your location tracking.

The realization hits him like a punch to the gut. You didn’t just disappear — you chose to be unfindable. And it’s all his fault.

Charles slumps against the nearest wall, sliding down until he’s sitting on the ground. He puts his head in his hands, overwhelmed by the magnitude of his mistake.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispers into the night. “I’m so, so sorry.”

As he sits there, memories flood his mind. Your proud smile when he won his first karting race. The way you’d curl up next to him during thunderstorms, seeking comfort. Your unwavering support through every step of his career, even when it meant less attention for you.

And how had he repaid that loyalty? By forgetting the one day that was supposed to be about you.

Charles’ phone buzzes, and he snatches it up eagerly. But it’s just a text from his mother:

Haven’t heard from Y/N. Is everything okay?

He stares at the message, unsure how to respond. How can he explain that he’s lost his little sister on her birthday?

Another text comes through, this time from Lorenzo:

No luck here either. What’s going on?

Charles takes a deep breath, steeling himself. He has to tell them the truth, no matter how much it hurts.

He creates a group chat with his mom, Lorenzo, and Arthur, his fingers shaking slightly as he types:

We forgot Y/N’s birthday. All of us. She’s not answering her phone and her location is turned off. I can’t find her anywhere.

The responses come in rapid succession:

Maman: Oh no. How could we forget?

Lorenzo: Shit. Have you checked with her friends?

Arthur: I’m on my way to the track now. We’ll find her.

Charles feels a mix of relief and shame. At least now everyone knows, and they can all work together to make things right. But the fact remains that they let you down in the first place.

He’s about to reply when he spots a familiar figure walking across the paddock. Max Verstappen, looking slightly disheveled and ... was that a touch of glitter on his cheek?

Without thinking, Charles jumps to his feet and runs over to his rival.

“Max!” He calls out, slightly out of breath. “Have you seen Y/N?”

Max turns, surprise evident on his face. Then, something else flickers in his eyes. Anger? Disappointment? It’s gone too quickly for Charles to be sure.

“Why?” Max asks, his tone cooler than usual. “Suddenly remembered she exists?”

The words sting, but Charles knows he deserves them. “Please, Max. I know I messed up. We all did. But I need to find her, to apologize.”

Max studies him for a long moment, as if weighing his options. Finally, he sighs. “She’s safe. That’s all you need to know right now.”

Relief washes over Charles, quickly followed by confusion. “You’ve seen her? Where is she?”

“I’m not telling you that,” Max says firmly. “She needed space, and after what happened, I don’t blame her.”

Charles feels a flare of frustration. “She’s my sister. I have a right to know where she is.”

“No,” Max counters, his blue eyes flashing. “You had a responsibility to remember her birthday. You didn’t. So now, you don’t get to demand anything.”

The words hit Charles like a slap. He opens his mouth to argue, then closes it again. Max is right, as much as it pains him to admit it.

“Is she ... is she okay?” Charles asks quietly, all fight leaving him.

Max’s expression softens slightly. “She will be. Eventually. But Charles, you really hurt her. All of you did.”

Charles nods, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. “I know. God, I know. I just want to make it right.”

“Then give her time,” Max advises. “And when she’s ready to talk, really listen to her. Don’t make excuses. Don’t try to justify it. Just listen.”

Charles nods again, feeling utterly defeated. “Will you ... will you tell her I’m sorry? That we’re all sorry?”

Max hesitates, then nods. “I will. But Charles? You need to do better. She deserves better.”

With that, Max turns and walks away, leaving Charles alone with his thoughts and regrets.

Charles pulls out his phone again, looking at the group chat with his family. He types out a message, his heart heavy:

Y/N is safe. A friend is looking out for her. We need to give her space, but when she’s ready to talk, we all need to be there. Really be there. We’ve got a lot to make up for.

As he hits send, Charles makes a silent promise to himself and to you. He’ll do better. He’ll be the brother you deserve. And somehow, someway, he’ll make this right.

But for now, all he can do is wait, and hope that you’ll find it in your heart to forgive them all.

***

The city lights twinkle below as Max leads you into his penthouse suite, the door clicking shut behind you. The space is modern and sleek, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of Milan’s skyline.

“Make yourself at home,” Max says, gesturing around the room. “Are you hungry? I can order some room service if you want.”

You shake your head, still feeling slightly overwhelmed by the events of the day. “No, thanks. I’m okay.”

Max nods, studying your face with concern. “You sure? It’s been a long day.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Yeah, you could say that again.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence before Max clears his throat. “So, um, you can take the bed. I’ll crash on the couch.”

“Oh, no,” you protest immediately. “I can’t kick you out of your own bed. I’ll take the couch.”

Max shakes his head firmly. “Absolutely not. It’s your birthday. You get the bed.”

You bite your lip, an idea forming. “We could ... share? I mean, if that’s okay with you. The bed looks plenty big enough.”

Max’s eyes widen slightly, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m sure,” you say, surprising yourself with your boldness. “Unless it makes you uncomfortable?”

“No, no,” Max says quickly. “I’m fine with it if you are.”

You nod, and another silence falls. Max runs a hand through his hair, looking suddenly unsure of himself.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” he suggests. “Or we could just talk, if you prefer.”

“Talking sounds nice,” you admit. “I’m not really in the mood for a movie.”

Max nods, gesturing towards the bed. “Shall we?”

You both settle onto the massive king-size bed, sitting cross-legged and facing each other. It’s oddly intimate, and you feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach.

“So,” Max begins, his blue eyes fixed on you. “Tell me something about yourself that isn’t related to racing or your family.”

You pause, caught off guard by the question. It’s been so long since someone asked about you, just you.

“Well,” you start hesitantly, “I’m actually studying to become an astrophysicist.”

Max’s eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously? That’s incredible! Why astrophysics?”

The enthusiasm in his voice makes you smile. “I’ve always been fascinated by space, you know? The idea that there’s so much out there we don’t understand ... it’s exciting.”

“That’s amazing,” Max says, genuinely impressed. “What kind of stuff are you studying right now?”

You laugh softly. “Are you sure you want to know? I might bore you with all the technical details.”

Max leans forward, his expression earnest. “Try me. I want to hear all about it.”

Encouraged by his interest, you begin to explain your current research project. As you talk, your hands move animatedly, your eyes lighting up with passion. Max listens intently, asking questions and showing genuine curiosity.

“... and that’s why understanding dark matter is so crucial,” you finish, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, I kind of went off on a tangent there.”

Max shakes his head, smiling warmly. “Don’t apologize. It’s fascinating. I had no idea you were into all this. Why haven’t I heard about it before?”

Your smile falters slightly. “Oh, well ... it doesn’t really come up much. Everyone’s usually more interested in talking about racing.”

Max frowns. “But this is incredible. You’re studying to unravel the mysteries of the universe. That’s way cooler than driving in circles.”

You laugh, but there’s a hint of sadness in it. “Try telling that to my family. I think they see it as more of a hobby than a career path.”

“What?” Max looks genuinely shocked. “How can they not be incredibly proud? This is huge!”

You shrug, picking at a loose thread on the comforter. “I guess it’s just not as exciting as F1? It’s okay, though. I’m used to it.”

Max shakes his head firmly. “No, it’s not okay. Y/N, you’re brilliant. Your family should be shouting it from the rooftops.”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you blink them back hastily. “Thanks, Max. That ... that means a lot.”

He reaches out, hesitating for a moment before placing his hand over yours. “I mean it. And for what it’s worth, I think what you’re doing is incredible.”

You look up, meeting his gaze. There’s a warmth there, an understanding that makes your heart skip a beat. Without really thinking about it, you shift closer to him.

Max seems to take this as an invitation, because he moves closer too. Soon, you’re sitting side by side, your shoulders touching.

“So,” you say, trying to lighten the mood. “What about you? Any secret passions outside of racing?”

Max chuckles. “Nothing as impressive as astrophysics, I’m afraid. But I do enjoy sim racing in my spare time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Isn’t that just more racing?”

“Hey, it’s completely different,” Max protests with a grin. “In sim racing, I can drive any car on any track. Even ones that don’t exist in real life.”

“Okay, okay,” you concede, laughing. “Tell me more about it.”

As Max launches into an explanation of his favorite sim racing setups, you find yourself relaxing more and more. The conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and playful debates.

Without really noticing, you both shift positions throughout the night. Max leans back against the headboard, and you mirror him. Your shoulders are pressed together, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“... and that’s why I think pineapple absolutely belongs on pizza,” Max finishes, looking at you expectantly.

You shake your head, grinning. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from a world champion. Your taste buds clearly can’t be trusted.”

“Oh, come on,” Max laughs, nudging your shoulder with his. “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

“I have tried it,” you insist. “It’s an abomination.”

Max clutches his chest in mock offense. “You wound me, Y/N. And here I thought we were becoming friends.”

The word ‘friends’ sends an odd pang through your chest. Is that what this is? It feels like more, somehow.

As if reading your thoughts, Max’s expression softens. He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture is so gentle, so intimate, that it takes your breath away.

“Y/N,” he says softly. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

You swallow hard, your heart racing. “Me too,” you whisper.

There’s a moment of charged silence, and then Max is leaning in. You meet him halfway, your lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss.

It’s brief, just a fleeting press of lips, but it sends sparks shooting through your entire body. When you pull back, Max is looking at you with a mixture of wonder and uncertainty.

“Was that okay?” He asks, his voice husky.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Instead, you lean in again, capturing his lips in another kiss. This one is deeper, more assured. Max’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, and you melt into his touch.

When you finally break apart, you’re both slightly breathless. Max rests his forehead against yours, a smile playing at his lips.

“I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he admits.

You laugh softly. “Even when I was insulting your pizza preferences?”

“Especially then,” Max grins. “You’re cute when you’re indignant.”

You swat at his arm playfully, but you can’t keep the smile off your face. For the first time all day, you feel truly happy.

As the night wears on, you and Max continue to talk, trading stories and stealing kisses. Gradually, your positions shift again. Max lies down, and you curl up against his side, your head resting on his chest. His arm wraps around you, holding you close.

“Y/N?” Max says softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm.

“Hmm?” you mumble, feeling drowsy and content.

“Happy birthday,” he says. “I know it didn’t start out great, but I hope it got better.”

You tilt your head up to look at him, a warm smile spreading across your face. “It did,” you assure him. “Thanks to you.”

Max kisses your forehead gently. “Get some sleep,” he murmurs. “We can figure everything else out in the morning.”

As you drift off to sleep, wrapped in Max’s arms, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this birthday wasn’t so bad after all. In fact, it might just be the start of something wonderful.

***

The early morning sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stir slowly, awareness creeping in as you feel a strong arm wrapped around your waist. For a moment, confusion sets in before the events of the previous night come rushing back.

You’re in Max Verstappen’s bed. And Max Verstappen is currently spooning you.

A smile tugs at your lips as you nestle back into his warmth, not quite ready to face the day. But fate, it seems, has other plans.

A sharp knock at the door jolts both of you awake. Max groans, burying his face in your hair.

“Room service?” You mumble, still half-asleep.

Max shakes his head, his voice gravelly with sleep. “Didn’t order any.”

The knock comes again, more insistent this time. With a sigh, Max untangles himself from you and slides out of bed.

“I’ll get it,” he says, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “You stay here.”

You nod, pulling the covers up to your chin and watching as Max pads to the door in his t-shirt and sweatpants. He opens it a crack, peering out.

“Can I help you?” He asks, confusion evident in his tone.

There’s a muffled response, and then Max is stepping back, opening the door wider. A hotel staff member enters, carrying an enormous bouquet of red roses.

“Delivery for Y/N Leclerc,” the staff member announces, looking around the room.

You sit up in bed, eyes wide. “That’s ... that’s me.”

The staff member nods, moving to set the bouquet on a nearby table. “Sign here, please,” he says, holding out a clipboard.

Still bewildered, you climb out of bed and make your way over, scrawling your signature on the form. The staff member thanks you and exits, leaving you and Max staring at the ostentatious display of flowers.

“Well,” Max says after a moment, “I guess your brother remembered after all.”

You let out a rueful laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, I guess he did.”

Max frowns, noting the lack of enthusiasm in your voice. “Aren’t you happy about it?”

You sigh, reaching out to touch one of the velvety petals. “It’s just ... I’ve told Charles a hundred times that I don’t like roses. They’re not my favorite flower. But every time he needs to apologize or wants to do something nice, it’s always roses.”

“Oh,” Max says softly, understanding dawning on his face. “So it’s less about you and more about what he thinks you should like.”

You nod, a lump forming in your throat. “Exactly. It’s like he doesn’t really listen, you know? He just does what he thinks is right without considering what I actually want.”

Max moves closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against his side. “That must be frustrating,” he says gently.

You lean into him, grateful for the support. “It is. And I know I should be grateful. It’s a beautiful bouquet, and he’s trying. But ...”

“But it’s not what you want,” Max finishes for you. “And that matters.”

You look up at him, surprised by how well he understands. “Yeah, exactly.”

Max turns to face you fully, his blue eyes serious. “Y/N, listen to me. It’s okay to be upset about this. It’s okay to want your family to actually listen to you and consider your feelings.”

You bite your lip, tears threatening to spill over. “But they’re trying now. Shouldn’t I just forgive them and move on?”

Max shakes his head firmly. “No. You don’t have to forgive them right away just because they made a grand gesture. It’s okay to make them work for your forgiveness.”

“Really?” You ask, your voice small.

“Really,” Max assures you. “They hurt you, Y/N. They forgot your birthday and made you feel invisible. One bouquet of flowers — flowers you don’t even like — doesn’t erase that.”

You nod slowly, processing his words. “So what do I do?”

Max runs a hand through his hair, thinking. “Well, what do you want to do? How do you feel?”

You take a deep breath, considering. “Honestly? I’m not ready to see them yet. I know I’ll have to face them eventually, but right now ... I just can’t.”

“Then don’t,” Max says simply. “Take the time you need. They can wait.”

A weight lifts off your shoulders at his words. “You don’t think that’s selfish?”

Max cups your face in his hands, his gaze intense. “It’s not selfish to prioritize your own feelings and well-being. You matter, Y/N. Your feelings matter.”

Tears spill over then, and Max pulls you into a tight embrace. You bury your face in his chest, letting out all the hurt and frustration you’ve been holding in.

“Shh,” Max soothes, rubbing your back. “It’s okay. Let it out.”

After a few minutes, your sobs subside. You pull back slightly, wiping at your eyes. “Sorry,” you mumble. “I got your shirt all wet.”

Max chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I think I’ll survive. Feel better?”

You nod, offering him a watery smile. “Yeah, actually. Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Max says softly. Then, a mischievous glint enters his eye. “So, what should we do with the roses? I vote we throw them off the balcony and watch them scatter in the wind.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep in your chest. “As tempting as that is, I don’t think hotel management would appreciate it.”

Max shrugs, grinning. “Their loss. We could always donate them to a hospital or something. Brighten someone else’s day.”

“That’s ... actually a really good idea,” you say, impressed. “We could do that.”

Max beams, clearly pleased with himself. “See? I’m not just a pretty face and fast driver.”

You roll your eyes fondly, but can’t suppress your smile. “Careful, Verstappen. Your ego’s showing.”

“You love it,” he teases, pulling you close again.

As you stand there in his arms, surrounded by the cloying scent of roses you don’t even like, you’re struck by how safe you feel. How understood.

“Max?” You say softly.

“Hmm?”

You pull back slightly to meet his gaze. “Thank you. For everything. For making my birthday special, for listening to me, for ... just being here.”

Max’s expression softens, a tender smile playing at his lips. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I ... I care about you, Y/N. A lot.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words. “I care about you too,” you admit.

For a moment, you just stare at each other, the air charged with unspoken emotions. Then, slowly, Max leans in. His lips meet yours in a soft, sweet kiss that makes your toes curl.

When you break apart, you’re both slightly breathless. Max rests his forehead against yours, his thumb tracing circles on your cheek.

“So,” he says, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “What happens now?”

You take a deep breath, considering. “Honestly? I’m not sure. This is all happening so fast, and with everything going on with my family ...”

Max nods, understanding in his eyes. “We can take it slow,” he assures you. “There’s no rush.”

Relief washes over you. “Thank you,” you say softly. “I do want this — us. I just need some time to figure everything out.”

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” Max says, pressing a gentle kiss to your nose. “For now, how about we get some breakfast? I’m starving.”

You laugh, grateful for the shift in mood. “Breakfast sounds perfect. But maybe we should change first? I’m not sure I want to face the paparazzi in yesterday’s clothes.”

Max grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I don’t know, I think you look pretty good in my t-shirt.”

You glance down, realizing for the first time that you’re indeed wearing one of Max’s shirts. A blush creeps up your cheeks. “When did that happen?”

“You got cold in the middle of the night,” Max explains, looking far too pleased with himself. “I offered you my shirt. You were very insistent that it was the most comfortable thing you’d ever worn.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Oh god. Please tell me I didn’t say anything else embarrassing.”

Max laughs, gently prying your hands away from your face. “Nothing too bad. Though you did mention something about my waist being ‘unfairly perfect’. Your words, not mine.”

“Kill me now,” you mutter, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

Max pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Never. I’m rather fond of you, embarrassing sleep talk and all.”

As you stand there in Max’s arms, the morning sun warming your skin and the scent of roses filling the air, you can’t help but feel a sense of hope. Yes, there’s still a lot to figure out — with your family, with Max, with your future. But for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

And that, you think, is the best birthday gift of all.

***

The private terminal of Milan Malpensa Airport buzzes with activity as the Leclerc family waits to board their chartered jet. Charles paces back and forth, his phone clutched tightly in his hand, eyes darting to the entrance every few seconds.

“Charles, honey, please sit down,” his mother, Pascale, says gently. “You’re making me nervous.”

Charles shakes his head, running a hand through his hair for what must be the hundredth time. “I can’t, Maman. Where is she? She should be here by now.”

Lorenzo exchanges a worried glance with Arthur. “Maybe she got held up in traffic?” He suggests, though his tone lacks conviction.

“For three hours?” Charles snaps, immediately regretting his harsh tone. “Sorry, I just ... I’m worried.”

Arthur stands up, placing a comforting hand on Charles’ shoulder. “We all are. But Y/N’s an adult. She can take care of herself.”

Charles lets out a frustrated sigh. “I know that. But after yesterday ... we really messed up.”

“We did,” Pascale agrees softly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “But we’ll make it right. We just need to talk to her.”

“If she ever shows up,” Charles mutters, resuming his pacing.

The minutes tick by agonizingly slow. Charles alternates between checking his phone and staring out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of you arriving. But the parking lot remains stubbornly devoid of your presence.

Finally, a staff member approaches the family. “Mr. Leclerc? The jet is ready for boarding. We need to depart soon to maintain our flight slot.”

Charles feels panic rising in his chest. “No, we can’t leave yet. My sister isn’t here.”

The staff member looks uncomfortable. “I understand, sir, but we have a schedule to keep. Perhaps your sister could take a commercial flight?”

“Absolutely not,” Charles says firmly. “We’re not leaving without her.”

Lorenzo steps in, ever the diplomat. “Is there any way we could delay for just a bit longer? It’s really important that we wait for our sister.”

The staff member hesitates, then nods. “I’ll see what I can do. But please understand, we can’t hold the slot indefinitely.”

As the employee walks away, Charles resumes his pacing with renewed vigor.

“This isn’t like her,” he mutters. “She wouldn’t just disappear without telling us.”

Arthur bites his lip, looking guilty. “Maybe ... maybe she’s still upset about yesterday?”

Charles stops in his tracks, turning to face his younger brother. “What do you mean?”

Arthur shifts uncomfortably. “Well, we did forget her birthday. And then when we remembered, we didn’t exactly handle it well. Those roses you sent? Y/N hates roses.”

Charles feels like he’s been punched in the gut. “She ... what? No, she loves roses. I always get her roses.”

“Because you always get her roses,” Lorenzo chimes in, realization dawning on his face. “Not because she actually likes them.”

Charles slumps into a nearby chair, head in his hands. “How did I not know that? What kind of brother am I?”

Pascale moves to sit beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “We’ve all made mistakes. But we can fix this. We just need to talk to her.”

“If she’ll even talk to us,” Charles mumbles.

Just then, his phone buzzes. Charles nearly drops it in his haste to check the notification, hope flaring in his chest. But it’s not from you.

“It’s Max,” he says, frowning in confusion.

“Verstappen?” Arthur asks, leaning over to peek at the screen. “What does he want?”

Charles opens the message, his eyes widening as he reads it aloud:

“Y/N is with me. She’s safe and we’re flying back to Monaco together. She needs some space right now. Give her time.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Charles reads and rereads the message, trying to process what it means.

“She’s with Max?” Lorenzo finally says, breaking the silence. “Since when are they even friends?”

Charles shakes his head, still staring at his phone. “I don’t know. I ... I saw him last night. He knew where she was, but I thought it was just a spontaneous thing.”

“Well, at least we know she’s safe,” Pascale says, always trying to find the silver lining. “That’s the most important thing.”

But Charles can’t shake the feeling of unease settling in his stomach. “Why didn’t she come to us? Why Max, of all people?”

Arthur places a hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Maybe because he was there when we weren’t,” he says softly.

The words hit Charles like a physical blow. He knows Arthur is right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to hear.

“So what do we do now?” Lorenzo asks, looking around at his family.

Charles takes a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. “We do what Max said. We give her time.”

“But for how long?” Pascale asks, worry evident in her voice. “She’s our little girl. We can’t just leave her alone.”

“She’s not alone, Maman,” Charles says, surprised by the steadiness in his voice. “She’s with Max. And as much as it pains me to admit it, I think ... I think she might be better off with him right now.”

The family falls silent again, each lost in their own thoughts. The weight of their collective mistake hangs heavy in the air.

Finally, Charles stands up, squaring his shoulders. “We should board the jet. There’s nothing more we can do here.”

As they gather their belongings and make their way to the plane, Charles can’t help but replay Max’s message in his head. You’re with Max. You’re safe. You need space.

He tries to imagine you and Max together, and finds that he can’t. What could have happened in the span of one day to bring you two together? And more importantly, what had driven you away from your own family?

As he settles into his seat on the jet, Charles makes a silent promise to himself and to you. He’ll give you the space you need, but he won’t give up. He’ll find a way to make things right, to be the brother you deserve.

The jet takes off, carrying the Leclerc family back to Monaco. But for Charles, it feels like they’re leaving a piece of themselves behind in Milan. A piece that, he fears, might be harder to reclaim than he ever imagined.

Meanwhile, across the airport, you and Max are boarding his private jet. The contrast between the two scenes couldn’t be more stark.

“You okay?” Max asks softly as you settle into your seat.

You nod, offering him a small smile. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for ... well, everything.”

Max reaches over, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Anytime. You know that.”

As the jet prepares for takeoff, you can’t help but think about your family. Are they worried? Angry? Do they even care?

“Max?” You say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hmm?”

You turn to look at him, vulnerability shining in your eyes. “Did I do the right thing? Leaving without talking to them?”

Max considers your question carefully before answering. “I think you did what you needed to do for yourself. And that’s never wrong.”

His words settle over you like a warm blanket, easing some of the tension in your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “For understanding. For not pushing me to do what everyone else thinks I should do.”

Max smiles, a soft, genuine expression that makes your heart flutter. “That’s what ... friends are for, right?”

There’s a hesitation in his voice, a question in his eyes that makes you wonder if ‘friends’ is really the right word for what’s developing between you.

As the jet takes off, carrying you away from Milan and the chaos of the past day, you find yourself feeling something you haven’t felt in a long time: hope. Hope for a future where you’re seen, heard, and valued for who you are.

And as you glance at Max, his profile illuminated by the setting sun streaming through the window, you can’t help but wonder if he might be a bigger part of that future than you ever imagined.

The jet climbs higher, leaving the ground and all its complications behind. For now, at least, you’re free. Free to breathe, to think, to feel without the weight of expectations pressing down on you.

You close your eyes, letting out a long breath. Whatever comes next, you know one thing for certain: things will never be the same again. And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what you need.

***

The sun is setting over Monaco, shining warmly through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Max’s penthouse apartment. You’re curled up on the plush sofa, a book in your lap, trying to lose yourself in the pages. But your mind keeps wandering, replaying the events of the past couple of days.

Max emerges from the kitchen, two steaming mugs in hand. “Thought you might need this,” he says, offering you one.

You smile gratefully, inhaling the rich aroma of hot chocolate. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

He shrugs, settling down beside you. “I wanted to. How’re you holding up?”

You’re about to answer when the doorbell rings. Max frowns, glancing at his watch. “I’m not expecting anyone. Are you?”

You shake your head, a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach. Could it be your family? Are they here to confront you?

Max squeezes your hand reassuringly before getting up to answer the door. You hear muffled voices, then the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor.

“Um, Y/N?” Max calls. “I think you might want to see this.”

Curiosity overcoming your apprehension, you make your way to the foyer. Your jaw drops at the sight that greets you.

The entire space is filled with bags. Not just any bags, but the kind that comes from the most exclusive boutiques in Monaco. Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Chanel — the logos stare back at you from every direction.

“What ... what is all this?” You stammer, looking to Max for explanation.

He hands you a small envelope. “This came with it. It’s addressed to you.”

With trembling fingers, you open the envelope and unfold the note inside. You’d recognize that handwriting anywhere.

Y/N,

I know I messed up. We all did. I’m so sorry for forgetting your birthday and for not being the brother you deserve. I hope these gifts can begin to make up for it. Please come home. We miss you.

Love,

Charles

You read the note twice, then a third time, disbelief turning to anger with each pass.

“He’s got to be kidding,” you mutter, crumpling the paper in your fist.

Max steps closer, concern etched on his face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “This,” you say, gesturing at the sea of designer bags, “is my brother’s idea of an apology. He thinks he can just ... buy me back with expensive gifts.”

Understanding dawns on Max’s face. “Ah. And I’m guessing that’s not going to work?”

“Not even close,” you say, shaking your head. “God, it’s like he doesn’t know me at all. I’m not one of his girlfriends who can be placated with a shopping spree.”

Max winces. “Ouch. Has he done this before?”

You nod, sinking down onto the nearest clear spot on the floor. “Every time he messes up with a girl, it’s the same routine. Flowers, jewelry, designer clothes. And it usually works, because the girls he dates ... well, they tend to be into that kind of thing.”

Max sits down beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “But you’re not.”

“No,” you confirm. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate nice things. But that’s not what this is about. It’s about him actually listening to me, actually seeing me as a person and not just ... his kid sister who can be bought off.”

Max is quiet for a moment, then says softly, “You know, it’s okay to be angry about this. You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t hurt.”

His words break something open inside you. Tears well up in your eyes, spilling over before you can stop them. “I just ... I thought he knew me better than this. I thought they all did.”

Max wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You lean into him, letting the tears fall freely now.

“It’s like they don’t even see me,” you choke out between sobs. “They see this idea of who they think I should be, but not ... not who I actually am.”

Max rubs soothing circles on your back, letting you cry it out. When your sobs finally subside, he hands you a tissue.

“Feel better?” He asks gently.

You nod, wiping your eyes. “A little. Sorry for breaking down on you like that.”

Max shakes his head firmly. “Don’t apologize. That’s what I’m here for.”

You offer him a watery smile, then turn back to survey the mountain of bags. “So ... what do I do with all this?”

Max considers for a moment. “Well, what do you want to do?”

You bite your lip, thinking. “Honestly? I want to send it all back. Show him that he can’t just throw money at the problem and expect it to go away.”

Max nods approvingly. “I think that’s a great idea. It sends a clear message.”

“You don’t think it’s too harsh?” You ask, a hint of uncertainty creeping into your voice.

“Not at all,” Max assures you. “You’re standing up for yourself, setting boundaries. That’s important.”

Emboldened by his support, you start rifling through the bags, curiosity getting the better of you. “I wonder what he even bought ... oh.”

You pull out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a delicate tennis bracelet. The diamonds catch the light, sparkling brilliantly.

“Wow,” Max breathes, leaning in for a closer look. “That’s ... that’s something.”

You nod, mesmerized by the way the bracelet shimmers. “It’s beautiful,” you admit softly.

Max watches you carefully. “You like it,” he observes.

You sigh, closing the box with a snap. “It doesn’t matter. It’s going back with everything else.”

“Why?” Max asks, genuine curiosity in his voice. “If you like it, why not keep it?”

You look at him, surprised. “But ... I thought you said sending it all back was a good idea?”

Max shrugs. “It is. But that doesn’t mean you can’t keep one thing if it genuinely makes you happy. You’re allowed to like nice things, Y/N. That doesn’t invalidate your feelings about the situation.”

You turn the box over in your hands, considering. “I don’t know ... wouldn’t keeping anything send the wrong message?”

“I think,” Max says slowly, “that the message you send depends more on what you say than what you keep or don’t keep. If you like the bracelet, keep it. But make sure Charles understands that a pretty piece of jewelry doesn’t fix the underlying issues.”

You nod, his words resonating with you. “You’re right. I’ll keep the bracelet ... but everything else goes back.”

As you start sorting through the bags, separating out what will be returned, you can’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Max asks, a smile tugging at his lips.

You hold up the bracelet box. “I was just thinking ... it would be a shame to let something this pretty go to waste, right?”

Max chuckles, shaking his head. “Absolutely. It’s practically your duty to keep it. For the sake of the bracelet, of course.”

“Of course,” you agree, giggling. “I’m being completely selfless here.”

As you continue to sort through the gifts, occasionally showing Max particularly outrageous items (“A fur coat? In Monaco?”), you feel a weight lifting from your shoulders. For the first time since this whole ordeal began, you feel like you’re taking control of the situation.

“You know,” you say, folding a designer dress back into its bag, “I think I need to have a real conversation with Charles. With all of them, really.”

Max nods encouragingly. “I think that’s a great idea. What do you want to say?”

You take a deep breath, organizing your thoughts. “I want them to understand that I’m my own person, with my own dreams and desires. That I need them to see me, really see me, not just as Charles Leclerc’s little sister or as an extension of the family name.”

“That sounds perfect,” Max says softly. “You deserve to be seen for who you are.”

You smile at him, a rush of warmth flooding your chest. “Thank you. For everything. I don’t know how I would have gotten through this without you.”

Max reaches out, taking your hand in his. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. But I’m glad I could help.”

As you sit there, surrounded by discarded luxury goods, your hand in Max’s, you feel a sense of peace settling over you. You know the road ahead won’t be easy — confronting your family, establishing new boundaries, figuring out exactly where you stand with Max — but for the first time in a long time, you feel ready to face it all.

You slip on the tennis bracelet, admiring the way it catches the light. It’s beautiful, yes, but it’s also a reminder. A reminder that you’re worth more than grand gestures and expensive gifts. You’re worth being truly seen, truly heard, truly understood.

And as you look at Max, his blue eyes warm with understanding and something that might be more, you think that maybe, just maybe, you’ve found someone who sees you for exactly who you are.

***

The afternoon sun beats down on the streets of Monaco as Charles leans against his Ferrari, fidgeting nervously. He’s parked across from the International University of Monaco, his eyes fixed on the entrance. Students stream in and out, but none of them are the one he’s looking for.

He checks his watch for what must be the hundredth time. Your last class should be ending any minute now. Charles takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He’s rehearsed what he wants to say a thousand times, but now that the moment is approaching, all his carefully prepared words seem to evaporate.

A group of students emerges from the building, laughing and chatting. Charles straightens up, his eyes scanning the crowd. And then he sees you.

You’re walking with a couple of friends, your bag slung over your shoulder, a smile on your face. For a moment, Charles is struck by how ... normal you look. How at ease. It’s a stark contrast to the tense family dinners and stilted conversations of recent months.

Before he can second-guess himself, Charles pushes off from his car and starts walking towards you. He sees the exact moment you spot him — your smile falters, your steps slow.

“Y/N!” He calls out, waving awkwardly.

Your friends notice him too, their eyes widening in recognition. You say something to them that Charles can’t hear, and they nod, casting curious glances between you and your brother as they walk away.

Charles reaches you, stopping a few feet away, suddenly unsure of himself. “Hey,” he says softly.

“Charles,” you reply, your voice carefully neutral. “What are you doing here?”

He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he’s never been able to shake. “I ... I wanted to talk to you. In person. You haven’t been answering my calls or texts, and I just ... I needed to see you.”

You sigh, adjusting the strap of your bag. “I’ve been busy with classes. And I needed some space.”

“I know,” Charles says quickly. “I know, and I’m sorry for ambushing you like this. I just ... can we talk? Please?”

You glance around, noticing the curious stares from passing students. “Not here,” you say finally. “There’s a café around the corner. We can talk there.”

Charles nods eagerly, relief washing over him. “Yes, of course. Whatever you want.”

You lead the way to the café, a small, cozy place tucked away from the main streets. As you settle into a booth in the back, Charles can’t help but wonder how often you come here, how many parts of your life he knows nothing about.

A waitress approaches, and you order your usual — an iced latte with an extra shot. Charles fumbles with the menu before ordering a simple espresso.

An awkward silence falls over the table as you wait for your drinks. Charles fidgets with a napkin, trying to find the right words to begin.

“So,” you say finally, your tone clipped. “You wanted to talk. Talk.”

Charles takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I’m so, so sorry, Y/N. For forgetting your birthday, for not being there for you, for ... for everything.”

You raise an eyebrow, your expression unreadable. “Is that it?”

Charles blinks, thrown off balance. “I ... what do you mean?”

“I mean,” you say, leaning forward slightly, “is that all you have to say? You’re sorry?”

Charles feels a flash of frustration. “What else do you want me to say? I messed up, I know that. I’m trying to make it right.”

The waitress returns with your drinks, and you take a long sip of your latte before responding. “Charles, this isn’t just about my birthday. This is about years of feeling invisible, of being overshadowed, of not being seen for who I am.”

Charles feels like he’s been punched in the gut. “What? Y/N, I ... I had no idea you felt that way.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “That’s kind of the point, Charles. You didn’t know because you never asked. None of you did.”

Charles sits back, his mind reeling. “I ... I don’t understand. We’ve always been close. At least, I thought we were.”

“We were,” you agree softly. “When we were kids. But as you got more and more successful, it was like ... like I faded into the background. Everything became about you, about your career.”

Charles feels tears pricking at his eyes. “Y/N, I never meant for that to happen. I love you. You’re my little sister.”

“I know you love me,” you say, your voice gentler now. “But loving someone and seeing them are two different things.”

Charles nods slowly, realization dawning. “The gifts,” he says. “That’s why you sent them back. Because I was trying to fix things without actually understanding what was wrong.”

“Exactly,” you confirm. “Charles, I don’t need expensive clothes or jewelry. I need my brother. The one who used to listen to me ramble about constellations for hours, who’d sneak me extra dessert when Maman wasn’t looking.”

Charles reaches across the table, hesitating for a moment before taking your hand. To his relief, you don’t pull away. “I want to be that brother again,” he says earnestly. “Tell me how. Please.”

You take a deep breath, considering. “Well, for starters, you could ask me about my life. My studies, my friends, my dreams. And actually listen to the answers.”

Charles nods eagerly. “Yes, of course. Tell me everything. What are you studying? How are your classes going?”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “I’m majoring in Astrophysics, remember? This semester I’m taking a course on Stellar Evolution that’s absolutely fascinating. We’re learning about the life cycles of stars, from their formation to their eventual death.”

As you continue talking, passion lighting up your eyes, Charles feels a mix of pride and shame wash over him. Pride in your intelligence and enthusiasm, shame that he’s missed out on so much of your life.

“That sounds incredible,” he says when you pause for breath. “I had no idea you were studying something so complex. You must be really good at it.”

You shrug, a hint of your old shyness creeping in. “I do okay. It’s challenging, but I love it.”

“I’m sure you do more than okay,” Charles insists. “You’ve always been the smartest one in the family.”

You laugh softly. “I don’t know about that. But ... thanks, Charles. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

Charles squeezes your hand. “I mean it. And I want to hear more. About your classes, your friends, everything. I’ve missed so much, and I want to make up for it.”

You nod, a cautious hope in your eyes. “I’d like that. But Charles, it can’t just be today. This has to be a continuous thing. I need to know that you’re genuinely interested in my life, not just when you’re trying to make amends.”

“Absolutely,” Charles agrees immediately. “What if we set up a regular call? Once a week, we can catch up properly. No distractions, no racing talk unless you want to. Just us.”

A genuine smile spreads across your face. “I’d really like that.”

Charles feels a weight lifting from his shoulders. It’s not fixed, not completely, but it’s a start. “There’s something else,” he says, suddenly remembering. “Max ... are you and Max ...”

You blush slightly, looking down at your latte. “We’re ... figuring things out. He’s been really supportive through all of this.”

Charles nods, pushing down the instinctive surge of protectiveness. “He’s a good guy. If he makes you happy, then I’m happy for you.”

You look up, surprise evident in your eyes. “Really? You’re not going to go all overprotective big brother on me?”

Charles chuckles. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll have my moments. But Y/N, you’re an adult. You can make your own choices. I trust you.”

Tears well up in your eyes. “Thank you. That ... that means more than you know.”

As you both finish your drinks, the conversation flows more easily. Charles asks about your friends, your hobbies outside of studying. You tell him about the astronomy club you’ve joined, the research project you’re hoping to get involved with next semester.

When it’s time to leave, Charles stands up, hesitating for a moment before opening his arms. “Can I ...”

You nod, stepping into his embrace. Charles holds you tight, realizing how long it’s been since he’s really hugged you like this.

“I love you, little sister,” he murmurs into your hair. “And I promise, I’m going to do better.”

You squeeze him back. “I love you too, big brother. And ... I’m willing to give you the chance to prove it.”

As you part ways outside the café, Charles heading back to his car and you towards your apartment, there’s a lightness in the air that wasn’t there before. It’s not perfect, not yet. There are still conversations to be had, bridges to be rebuilt. But for the first time in a long time, there’s hope.

Charles watches you walk away, a mix of emotions swirling in his chest. Pride in the amazing person you’ve become, regret for the time he’s missed, determination to be the brother you deserve.

He pulls out his phone, creating a new reminder: Call Y/N — every Sunday, 7 PM.

It’s a small step, but it’s a start. And as he drives home, Charles finds himself looking forward to getting to know his little sister all over again.

***

The auditorium of the International University of Monaco buzzes with excitement as proud families and friends gather to celebrate the graduating class. In the front row, an unusually high-profile group draws curious glances and whispered conversations.

Charles fidgets in his seat, craning his neck to scan the sea of graduates. “Do you see her?” He asks, nudging his older brother.

Lorenzo chuckles, placing a calming hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Relax. She’ll be here. Alphabetical order, remember?”

On Charles’ other side, Arthur rolls his eyes fondly. “You’d think he was the one graduating, the way he’s acting.”

“Can you blame him?” Max chimes in from the end of the row, a warm smile on his face. “It’s a big day.”

Pascale, seated between Lorenzo and Arthur, dabs at her eyes with a tissue. “My baby girl, graduating university. I can hardly believe it.”

Max reaches across to pat her hand. “She’s amazing, Pascale. You should be very proud.”

Charles turns to Max, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Look at you, all calm and collected. I remember when you were a nervous wreck asking her out for the first time.”

Max blushes slightly, but grins. “Hey, your sister is intimidating. All that brainpower.”

“Shh!” Arthur hisses suddenly. “I think it’s starting!”

The auditorium falls silent as the ceremony begins. The family watches with rapt attention as the graduates file in, searching for that familiar face among the sea of caps and gowns.

And then, there you are. Your eyes scan the crowd until they land on your family, a bright smile spreading across your face as you wave discreetly.

“There she is!” Charles whisper-shouts, practically bouncing in his seat.

Lorenzo chuckles. “We see her. Try to contain yourself, yeah?”

The ceremony progresses, with speeches from the valedictorian and various dignitaries. Charles fidgets impatiently, earning amused glances from his family and Max.

Finally, the moment arrives. “Y/N Leclerc,” the announcer calls.

Charles jumps to his feet, letting out a whoop that echoes through the auditorium. “That’s my sister!” He shouts, drawing startled looks from nearby attendees.

Lorenzo and Arthur quickly join in, their cheers mixing with Charles’. Max and Pascale stand too, clapping enthusiastically.

You walk across the stage, accepting your diploma with a graceful nod. As you turn to face the audience, your eyes lock with your family’s, and your composed expression breaks into a radiant smile.

Charles, caught up in the moment, continues cheering even after you’ve left the stage. “That’s right! Astrophysicist in the house! Watch out, universe!”

Max, noticing the irritated glances from other families, reaches over and claps a hand over Charles’ mouth. “Okay, Charlie, I think she heard you,” he says, laughter in his voice.

Max feels something wet against his palm and jerks his hand away.

“Ugh, gross!” Max yelps, wiping it on his pants. “What are you, five?”

Charles grins unrepentantly. “You started it.”

Pascale sighs, shaking her head. “Boys, please. This is Y/N’s big day. Try to act like adults.”

“Sorry, Maman,” Charles mumbles, properly chastised.

As the ceremony concludes, the family makes their way outside, eagerly scanning the crowd for you.

“There!” Arthur calls out, pointing.

You’re making your way towards them, diploma in hand, your face glowing with happiness. Max reaches you first, sweeping you into a tight hug.

“Congratulations, liefje,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m so proud of you.”

You beam up at him, about to respond when Charles practically tackles you both.

“My sister, the genius!” He crows, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. “I always knew you’d take over the world someday.”

You laugh, hugging him back just as fiercely. “Put me down, you goof! You’re making a scene.”

“Let him have his moment,” Lorenzo says, stepping in for his own hug once Charles releases you. “It’s not every day your little sister graduates top of her class in Astrophysics.”

Arthur’s turn comes next, his hug gentler but no less heartfelt. “Congrats. You’ve officially made the rest of us look like underachievers.”

Finally, you turn to your mother, who’s openly crying now. “Oh, my darling,” she says, cupping your face in her hands. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

You feel tears welling up in your own eyes as you embrace her. “Thanks, Maman. For everything.”

As you pull back, wiping at your eyes, Charles slings an arm around your shoulders. “So, what’s next? Going to discover a new planet? Name a star after your favorite man?”

You roll your eyes fondly. “First of all, I still have to get through graduate school. And second, bold of you to assume you’re my favorite.”

“Ouch,” Charles clutches his chest in mock pain. “After all we’ve been through?”

Max chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Face it, Leclerc. I’ve got you beat in the favorite department.”

Charles narrows his eyes playfully. “Is that a challenge, Verstappen?”

“Boys, boys,” you interject, laughing. “There’s plenty of me to go around. Now, how about we get out of here? I’m starving, and I believe someone promised me a celebration dinner.”

“Ah, yes!” Pascale says, clapping her hands together. “I’ve made reservations at La Maree. Your favorite, chérie.”

As the family starts to move towards the parking lot, Max hangs back, tugging gently on your hand. “Hold on a sec,” he says softly. “I want to give you something.”

Curious, you turn to face him. Max reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box.

Your eyes widen. “Max ...”

He opens the box, revealing a delicate necklace. A small white gold star pendant hangs from the chain, a tiny diamond twinkling at its center.

“I know it’s not much compared to your usual study subjects,” Max says, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “But I thought ... well, you’re my star, Y/N. My brilliant, beautiful star.”

Tears well up in your eyes again as Max fastens the necklace around your neck. “It’s perfect,” you whisper. “I love it. I love you.”

Max’s face breaks into a radiant smile. “I love you too,” he says, before leaning in to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

You melt into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands settle on your waist. For a moment, the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you.

The spell is broken by an exaggerated gagging sound. You break apart to see Charles pretending to retch, while Lorenzo and Arthur laugh.

You break apart, laughing. “Real mature, Charles,” you call back.

Charles grins, unrepentant. “Hey, someone’s got to keep an eye on you crazy kids.”

Max rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Your brother, the chaperone,” he mutters.

You giggle, taking Max’s hand as you rejoin your family. “Don’t worry,” you whisper conspiratorially. “We’ll ditch him at the restaurant.”

As you all pile into the waiting cars, the air buzzing with excitement and plans for the evening, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed with happiness. A year ago, you never would have imagined this scene — your family truly seeing and celebrating you, a wonderful man by your side who loves and supports you, and a bright future ahead in a field you’re passionate about.

The cars pull away from the university, carrying you towards your celebration dinner. As you watch the familiar streets of Monaco roll by, you find yourself filled with an incredible sense of anticipation. This isn’t just the end of your university journey — it’s the beginning of something new and exciting.

You glance around the car — at Charles and Arthur bickering good-naturedly in the back seat, at your mother chatting happily with Lorenzo who’s driving, and finally at Max beside you, his hand warm in yours. Your family, in all its chaotic, loving glory.

“Hey,” Max says softly, noticing your pensive expression. “You okay?”

You smile, squeezing his hand. “More than okay. I’m perfect.”

And as the car winds its way through the streets of Monaco, towards a future bright with possibility, you know that it’s true. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, surrounded by love, with the stars stretching out endlessly before you.

[allurilove]

Yandere Classmate x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Headcanons of stalking, obsessive behavior, unhinged man lowkey, sexual fantasies, perverted and lewd behavior, stealing, male masturbation, gender neutral reader, grumpy x sunshine,

*He has no name, and is only referred to as “your classmate” his only existence is to be obsessed with the reader, and without you, he ceases to exist. This yandere classmate is different from the other one I have wrote about. Here is the second part! This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: You wish on a shooting star for a boyfriend. Your classmate has an unhealthy obsession with you, he’s almost entranced, and he follows you around like a lost puppy. He doesn’t know what you have done to him, but he won’t let you go. No, he’ll hunt you down and make sure you’ll stay with him forever.

When you wished to be in a relationship with a man that was utterly obsessed with you— joking or not joking— the universe heard you loud and clear.

It was like he was here on earth just to be with you. Every single part of his body was screaming, clawing, and dragging his feet towards you. It was hard to get close, and near damn annoying that you were surrounded by your friends all the time.

Your classmate was entranced the moment you walked past him, and whenever you did and he heard your sweet laugh… his legs immediately made him get up from his spot to follow you.

You were just the sweetest being he has ever seen. Always nice and kind to others, even if they didn’t deserve it. He felt like he had a responsibility to protect you from assholes that would take advantage of you.

He began to follow you around. Listening in to your conversations, and he would take mental notes of what would make you laugh. He was determined to make you smile, to make you laugh harder than that fool in front of you.

He gave up on his education to pursue you. I mean he was learning… just happened to skip some of his classes to sneak into yours. You were a more interesting subject anyways. He would sit somewhat far away, and switch it up every time. He didn’t want you to notice him, not yet anyways.

Your classmate really wanted to sit next you, or maybe offer to buy you lunch. When you went to the bathroom, and left your cup on the table, there was a faint lip mark on it. He gulped, his hand slowly reaching for it. If he couldn’t kiss you soon, this was the next best thing. He pressed his lips where yours were previously, his tongue flicking the rim. He savored your saliva, and out of adrenaline he decided to keep the cup all together.

Whenever you were gone, or didn’t come to school that day, he had to visit your locker. It was after gym class, and no one was around as he leaned in to sniff at the little vents. Your scent had been brewing in there for a couple of hours, and he groaned.

He desperately tried to lap up every scent — he inhaled and licked the air— his hands palming the tent in his shorts. If only he knew your locker combination.

Your classmate pulled his shorts down, and his boxers followed suit. He finally freed himself from his confinements, and he rubbed his hand up and down his length. He masturbated at the thought of you often. He only needed an image of you, a scent, or an item of yours. Either way, his dick would be in his hands, twitching and cumming.

When he wasn’t stalking you and literally trying to learn everything about you, he took the liberty to primp himself. He wanted to look good for you after all. He would wake up early, shave and even wax his body clean of body hair, cut his nails, and do shit to his cuticles. He went to the barbershop and got a new hair cut, and made sure his face was clean and shaven. If that wasn’t your thing he would grow it all out.

He was a bit hesitant to do much with his lower body. But he sucked it up and made sure to trim down there too. He wasn’t used to shaving, and had to buy a couple of bandaids. A sanrio bandaid near his crotch.

And he realized he was deeply out of shape. Shit. When you were running on the tracks, so was he. He had to hold his breath to hide his deep and hard breathing. He soon found out he shouldn’t have done that.

You came over to him after he briefly passed out cold on the ground. He slowly opened his eyes, and you came into the view, and he saw a tiny bit up your shorts. That was enough for him to go into a frenzy.

He bought all of the fruits he could find, he read on the internet that the best way to eat someone out, and practice, was to use fruit. The peaches juices were dripping down his neck as he continued to tongue, and devour the hole. He imagined that he was on the ground and you were sitting on his face, his arms would lock you down onto him, making you put your full weight on him. Suffocate him for all he cares, he just wanted to hear you say his name. Or at least acknowledge that he exists.

He isn’t popular like you are, but he has his own group of friends. And by friends, he means your siblings. The only natural way to get close to you, was through your family after all. Plus, if you two were to get married, he already had an in with the family.

It also meant he could see your room. He snuck away for a minute to examine where you slept. He slowly knelt down, his hips aligned with corner of the mattress, and he digs his face into your sheets. His hands gripped the soft plush of your blanket, his cock rubbing against the corner. He whined as wanted more, he just wanted to bury himself deep inside you, and feel your warmth around him. He bets that it would feel like heaven.

Your classmate quickly retracted as he felt a tiny wet spot growing on his pants, his face flushed as he sat back down onto his ass. When he does so, his hands land on a piece of fabric. Out of instinct his hands curl around it and he picked it up, he inspected it and his eyes widens. Your underwear. In his hand.

His hand was tightly gripped around his mouth and the other was around his cock. His back was arched and he locked himself away in your bathroom. He loved the feeling of your underwear rubbing on his tip, and his hips snapped against his hand. He closed his eyes and he imagined you were giving him a handjob instead. Fuck, he just needed to smell you instead. He smelled your underwear, as he climaxed, his cum dribbling on the floor.

When you applied for college, he did too. He found out every single one you wanted to go to from your siblings. He got waitlisted. You got accepted. It wasn’t even a straight up rejection, it wasn’t a yes, and it was just a damn maybe.

He winced, his eyes almost closing as he smiled for the picture. It turned out alright and he paid the fee. A couple of months later, he got his passport in the mail. He booked his flight, and he lied right to your face. He convinced you to get an apartment with him instead of going to a dorm, and he followed you around campus, even though he doesnt have a single class there.

Allure: This is a bit of a different format from how I usually write, and idk how to feel about it lol! Here’s the c.ai link: https://share.character.ai/Wv9R/ondwnvhr

[fluffylino]

mommy!hyunjin, i said what i said

(he can rail me)

-contains mature themes

"is mommy fucking you good?" hyunjin mumbled, groaning at how tight you were. you couldn't help it.

everything was so hot. he was so hot. his length pushing inside of you was even hotter.

you wanted him to stay there. to stay buried deep inside of you.

"fuck, s-stop clenching so much" he cursed out, gripping your thighs that had him plastered to you.

"m-mommy" you moaned out before he could press his lips against yours. his tongue swiping against your chapped bottom lip.

he was everywhere.

"mommy's here, baby" hyunjin reassured, thrusting into you at a pace that had you keening. you wanted to rile him up. make him see stars.

"what about y-your husband...?"

his eyes darkened, halting everything he was doing.

was it so wrong to bring up the messed up skz family skit into this?

hyunjin was still dressed up as jisung's beloved wife. a beautiful sight.

his white button up shirt falling off one of his shoulders, exposing his smooth skin. his pretty short pants discarded on the side somewhere.

his hair was tied back, a few extensions added to make his bun look fuller. two hooped gold earrings on his ears. he looked like a rich aunty.

a milf, to be exact. your milf.

.

it all started when the skz family skit has just got done. hardly an hour had passed. everyone seemed to fit their roles so well.

especially one person. hyunjin, that is.

his hair looked so pretty tied up, a few strands cradling his face. his face was so pretty but the way he sat gave it all away. his legs spread, arms crossed behind his head as he leaned back. watching them play with focused eyes. it suited him. the whole concept.

you just wanted to get on your knees and suck him off.

what did it for you was the fact that he smiled so proudly when his "kids" called him mommy.

something you had always wished to call him.

when you looked at him. it was never daddy. he didn't give off those vibes.

it was always mommy.

mommy hyunjin fucking you into oblivion.

mommy hyunjin making you gag on his cock.

mommy hyunjin having his way with you.

.

.

"mommy-"

you unconciously said when they had finished shooting. the rest of them were in the other rooms. joking around and laughing. you could hear minho scold seungmin. perhaps he needed help with getting the hanbok off.

hyunjin and you were the only ones left in the room. so when u said that. you froze. your inner thoughts had managed to get out.

"yeah?" hyunjin replied, not even looking at you. he was busily poking and prodding at his hair in the mirror. his eyes met yours through the mirror.

what the actual fuck-

did he really respond to that so cooly. he turned around, a suggestive expression on his face.

shit...he looked so..wow.

and thats how you ended up in this situation.

.

.

you waited for him to respond. his dick throbbing inside of you. everything still.

"my husband? why would i ever need that man" he played along. if it anyone were to hear, they'd actually believe it. his acting skills were impeccable when not scripted.

he leaned forward, his hands gripping the side of the table he had made you sit on.

you trembled when his lips brushed past your ear.

"you fuck me so much better than that unloyal bastard"

he whispered breathily. you whimpered. his hand immediately coming up to cover your mouth. muffling any sounds you could make.

"plus you're perfect for me. and i love everything about you"

he bucked his hips, hitting a spot that had you drooling into his palm. his eyes locked onto yours.

"shhh do you want him to hear us?"

"i bet you do...want them all to hear how mommy's dick makes you a dumb cockslut"

"m' not a slut"

you mumbled, or atleast tried to against his hand. he pulled out completely, his tip barely pressing against your folds.

"yeah you are. only for me though, right?"

there was a comforting tone in his voice. hyunjin knew how sometimes degrading names could trigger you. it was only until you confirmed that he continued.

"only i get the privilege to see you falling apart"

you nodded, a low moan leaving his lips, as he took his hand off your mouth. you knew you were a mess. even more so then before.

"hyunj-"

you gasped as his hand made contact with your cheek. you could feel yourself get wetter as the pain set in. he had slapped you. he clicked his tongue.

waiting.

"mommy..s-sorry aah-" you bit down on your lip as he pushed into you in one swift motion. never slowing down.

"you're so m-much better than my husband"

"take me so well...hng-ghn so tight" he gasped as you unconciously clenched around him. pulling him in. making him lose his mind.

"shit so warm and wet'nside..all for me"

"look d-down"

you mumbled, holding his hand that was on your hip and placing it against your lower stomach, just below your navel. he looked down, focusing on the imprint of his length inside of you.

disappearing and reappearing as he pushed in and pulled out repeatedly.

"so deep inside of you..bet i could fuck my babies into you"

both of you moaning when he pressed against the bulge. you were so close.

"i can f-feel you all around me" hyunjin mumbled. your eyes rolled back. an intense feeling bubbling inside of you, waiting to be released.

"i'm cumming" you gasped out, grabbing onto his neck, pulling him closer.

"cum for me"

white filled your vision. a whole wave of pleasure washing all over you.

going limp, you whined at the overstimulation. hyunjin was still chasing his orgasm. grunts and little high pitched moans leaving his swollen lips.

"i-in my m-mouth" you muttered, trying to get him to pull out. his eyebrows furrowed. maybe he didn't hear you.

"h-huh?"

he pulled out slowly with uncertainty, stroking his dick. his orgasm seconds away. a little longer and he'd end up losing it.

you got off the table. practically falling onto the carpetted floor. kneeling down infront of him. you kept your mouth open, sticking your tongue out. just enough. centimeters away from his dick.

"warn a man, goddamnit"

he cursed out. you couldn't help but smile. a long drawn out cry escaping him as he came. streaks of white coating your tongue.

"ahh-hha" he threw his head back, closing his eyes tightly.

perhaps the sight of you running your tongue from his base all the way up to his sensitive weeping tip was too much of a sight to handle.

.

.

"so you like calling me mommy?"

"HYUNJIN-"

[jazziejax]

𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Dev-Em x Black!OC

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - In which the sudden crash into the backyard of a southern belle’s Louisiana bayous home leads to the unexpected meeting of an outer space alien and regular baker

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Fluff, chile, idk superpowers maybe?

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - I think this might be my favorite story so far. I love superhero’s and lovey-dovey fluff and this is all that plus a fine ass man so…UNEDITED!!! Sorry for any spelling errors. I’m also working on my other works so you’ll be getting an update soon! Also, tagging never works for me so if the tag list is janky, I’m so sorry. Let me know if you want to be apart of it and what you guys think, LOVE YOU!!!<3

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 7,109+

Tonight was quiet, oddly enough. The air was still, with no sound of the soft chirping of crickets or a lighting bug in sight, save for the occasional breeze of the warm southern wind. The usually humid air now had a cool breeze to it, less sticky and sweeping the curly flyaways at the back of her neck, causing her to occasionally reach back to swat at the feeling of false flies. Her curly fro was in a bun at the top of her head, a silk scarf wrapped around the base and a pencil stuck in her hair rather than behind her ear since she was wearing her glasses. She was reading some physiological thriller about a woman and her husband’s mistress. She was almost done and was anticipating the crossword puzzles it had in the back.

She sat on her porch in a creaky rocking chair, a book resting on her lap and a glass of iced tea sweating on the small table beside her and her small orange, Mufasa, resting on the floor. She then sighed, tilting her head back to lean against the back of her chair. “I pray a marriage like this never finds me.” She said to herself after the woman caught her husband and the mistress again, the pair telling her their creed story to ruin her life and walk away scotch-free and with all the money. Her gaze was locked on the stars, able to see the twinkling rocks due to the small amount of artificial light available in the Bayou neighborhood.

This was how every night was for her. She ended the day on her porch, her fluffy robe covering whatever she decried to wear that night as she softly rocked back and forth in her old chair, reading whatever book she picked up next from the porch swing, that seat was filled with all the books she bought when she first moved into the large home. Then she’d end it all by giving the stars one last glance. Looking between the constellation patterns she could recognize and the occasional star-link that slowly moved across the sky. And the North Star shined big and bright in front of her, angled perfectly with the spot of her chair.

But the twinkling was different tonight. The stars seemed to shine brighter than usual. Everything about tonight was different.

That’s when she saw it. A streak of light tore across the sky, burning bright like a falling star. She stood up with a gasp, looking at the moving ball. “Oh my goodness, a shooting star.” She said softly. She started at it as it moved across the sky before quickly clasping her fists together. “Ohh! I gotta make a wish.” She held them up to her chest, tightly shutting her eyes. She then took in a beep breath.

I wish…for something new. Something fun and exciting. Anything……Anything to make my miserable life a little less lonely. She thought to herself, her thoughts dwindling within her mind once she realized how sad and pathetic she sounded. She let out a small sigh, opening her eyes and placing her hands on her hips. “Now this is just sad, Magnolia Etienne.” She shook her head at herself. She then crossed her arms, giving the sky one last look. It was empty now, with no moving stars in sight. Pushing her lips, she turned around and picked her book up from the soft pad placed on the seat of her rocking chair.

She tucked her book under her arms and squatted to scratch behind her cat’s ears. “Come on Mufasa, time for bed.” She said. The lazy cat perked up at the sound of her voice and her fingers in his fur. He meowed as he leaned into the touch, rising from his lounging position, the bell on his collar emitting a soft ding. She grabbed her glass of tea and began to make her way into her home, opening the screen door.

She held the door open, watching Mufasa waddle his way past her. She had a small smile on her face before closing both of her doors behind her and locking them. She watched as Mufasa trudged his way up the stairs to her right while she went to the left, right into the archway that led to the large kitchen. She poured the rest of her tea down the drain and placed the dark green glass in the sink. She then scurried out of the kitchen back through the same archway and began to make her way up the same stairs as Mufasa.

She was only halfway up before she heard what sounded like a large freight train coming near. She couldn’t pause to contemplate what the sound could be before a loud explosion sounded from outside. The entire house shook at the crash, the pictures on the wall jittering at the vibrations while Magnolia tried to keep her balance as she leaned against the wall next to her for stability. She heard Mufasa’s loud screech from her bedroom before she saw the orange ball bumbling down the steps towards her.

Magnolia’s heart pounded within her chest as she suck to the floor, scooping her cat into her arms as she waited for things to die down. Her home still vibrated after the lasting effects of the crash, which she could tell was close due to the sound and her still shaking home. And after that, for only a moment, everything was still. The only sound was her shallow breathing and Mufasa’s soft bell as he moved within her arms. She then slowly pushed herself up, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Lord have mercy,” Magnolia breathed, scrambling to her feet. She stumbled up the stairs, her cat still in her arms as she made her way down the hall and to her bedroom. She gave no regard to the clothes on the floor as hopped over them, quickly grabbing the shotgun from beside her bed. She didn’t wait another second before rushing down the stairs. She went to her left, leaving her into the living room, making her way over to the bay window tucked to the side, and looking out the large glass panels.

A glow white emitted from her backyard through the smoke of the explosion. She furrowed her brows as she blinked, wondering what could’ve possibly crashed landed on her property of all things.

She pushed herself from her knees on the cushion window seat to pull out the ball draw under it, pulling out a large flashlight. With Mufasa still in her arms, along with her gun and now her tool, she made her way to the back door of her home. She took slow steps from the living room to the dining room, the white glow dimming down before her eyes through the curtains of the home. Once she made it past the seating area and into the kitchen, she hit the screen door leading to the back porch. She paused, gulping as she looked through the mosquito net that stopped at her knees.

“Okay, Mufasa. This is probably really stupid.” She said to the cat in her arms. “So I’m bringing you out here in case I die.” She looked down at him, only to meet his disinterested expression, a consistent look of his. “I want you to run to Leroy’s house and tell him I’m gone. He’ll take care of you.” She gave him a sad smile. Mufasa just blinked.

“You don’t give a damn.” She sighed before leaning down a little to drop him from her hands. She stood straight with a small huff, calming her nerves and collecting herself before stepping out of the door. She wiped her palms on the side of her soft purple robe, switching the cold metal of the rifle between her hands. She then began to stretch her arms and shoulders, pulling one arm over her chest to the opposite side. Once done, she placed the gun in her hands, positioning it just right in case she needed to aim. She also held the flashlight.

Magnolia squinted as she pushed open the door, the smoke from the explosion seeping into the bottom of the door. Mufasa rushed out into the smog that had eased its way up the steps of her porch.

Her breath hitched as she pushed open the screen door and stepped onto the back porch, her sock-cladded feet pressing against the cool and damp wooden boards. She squinted out into the yard, trying to see past the smoke that was beginning to roll into the bayou waters not far from the grass.

She took a few more steps out, stepping down the first few creaky steps of the porch. She could hear the soft bell of Mufasa’s collar coming from the center of the explosion. Her heart was pounding within her chest as she stepped closer and closer, her flashlight finally giving her some justice of sight into the space of the crash. “Please let it be…oh, hell, I don’t know, nothing crashing into your backyard is good.” She said softly to herself. “Unless it’s money in a safe. That’ll be good if I could get the safe open.” She tried to calm herself down, her mind racing on something that could potentially kill her or have her making some sort of official report.

Her breath hitched at the sight before her, the fog dimming to reveal what lay in the middle of her garden. Right where her prized tomatoes used to grow, was a smoldering crater, smoke curling into the humid night air. She edged closer, the shotgun held tight to her chest and then froze when she saw it—someone, or something, lying in the wreckage.

“Well my, oh, my.” She whispered. There was a man in the crater. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and covered in soot. His clothes—or what was left of them—looked strange, like some sort of uniform or armor that had been ripped apart in the impact, the black suit shimmering in the moonlight. Blood streaked his face, and his breathing was shallow, which she could only tell that he was doing by the way the smoke cleared from his face. She stood there, shocked at what she was seeing. She glanced around the crater, looking for anything else that could indicate what happened or caused the crash, but there was nothing. No debris, shrapnel, scraps, nothing. Just him and the hole.

Mufasa sat himself next to his head after giving the man a quick sniff. He then reached out a placed a paw on the unconscious man’s head, turning his head to give the woman his same disinterested face. Magnolia hesitated, but only for a moment. She then dropped her arms, letting out a deep sigh. “Reckon I can’t just leave you out here,” she muttered to herself, setting the shotgun aside.

She placed her hands on her hips, observing the scene before her. She then let out another sigh before moving her way into the crater with the man and giving her cat a look. “You gon’ just sit there and stare or are you gonna help a sista out?” She asked, bending to the man. Mufasa just yawned, giving her the same look, causing her to let out a small scoff. “No help, as usual. You know, I don’t even know why I let you live with me, rent-free.” She snarked at him as she moved to grab the man’s upper body to drag him away. “You’re gonna have to start carrying your own weight.” She groaned as she took steps. Mufasa just sat next to him, watching as she struggled. “Of course not now.”

It took all of her strength to drag him into the house. She groaned all the way into the home with the weight of the man in her arms. Mufasa did nothing but follow her, at the heels of the unconscious man, stopping now and then when Magnolia dropped him to catch her breath. “Just give me a sec. This guy’s a bolder and you’re no help.” She’d puff out. Then she’d only receive the small ding of his bell as some sort of response. “I have gots to stop talking to my cat.” She sighed.

By the time she got him onto the couch, she was sweating and cursing under her breath. His weight was unreal, like trying to move a fallen redwood tree. Once he was settled, she went to the kitchen and gathered a large bowl with some warm water and a fresh sponge. She sat the materials on the small coffee table next to him, then focused on his clothing. “Dammit, you need clothes.” She sighed. She rushed up the stairs to her bedroom, grabbing her biggest items of clothing, which she usually slept in. Her joggers weren’t that baggy, at least not enough to fit him, so she went for the large basketball shorts she always wore for whatever reason.

After collecting those, she went back down to begin cleaning what she could.

Surprisingly to her, he had no wounds on his skin, even though dried blood littered his face and neck. She was a little glad that was all it was since that meant she didn’t have to run back upstairs and gather supplies to clean his wounds. But that also made her even more confused. She still wasn’t fully clear on what exactly had happened for him to end up in her backyard. But she cleaned the air and debris from his skin as best she could.

“Where in the world did you come from?” She murmured, her eyes lingering on his sharp jawline and high cheekbones. He was a beautiful man. His skin was smooth, the light brown color warm against the warm lighting of her home. His face was clean-shaven, not a hair in sight besides the ones in his head, which were cute and curly. She couldn’t help but notice his large features. They were attractive. His lips were strong and structured. His nose was perfect, symmetrical, and sculpted to his face. What she admired most was his ears. His large ears were…cute.

That’s all she could say about him.

He didn’t respond to her soft voice, just lying there unconscious, his chest rising and falling steadily. She worked quietly, her cleaning moving from his face to his chest after she struggled to remove the tattered uniform. The cleaning seemed to ease the racing heart and her wandering mind. Her nerves settled as she busied herself. Once he was cleaned up and changed, after trying her best to not admire his exquisite physique like some perv, she covered him with a quilt, sat in the armchair opposite him, and waited, her shotgun resting across her knees.

“Okay, Mufasa. Now we wait.” She said, leaning back in the shake, her gaze locked on the arms. She didn’t get to change his pants, not wanting to do anything past taking his combat boots off and making it extra creepy on her end, so she just settled for the shirt.

It didn’t take long before she was feeling the effects of sleep hitting her like a bolder. Her head was leaned back against the back of the chair while Mufasa was curled against her feet. And just as she was zoning off, suddenly remembered.

I wish…for something new. Something fun and exciting. Anything……Anything to make my miserable life a little less lonely.

𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

It was the smell of bacon that woke him. Not that he knew what that was. But it was a strange smell nonetheless. His eyes snapped open as he woke with a start, and for a moment, he panicked. His body jolted as though he’d been dropped from a great height. For a moment, disorientation flooded him. His heart dropped and his mind became alert. The room around him was unfamiliar—soft light filtering through the lace curtains and stained glass windows, casting patterns across the dark hardwood floor. The air smelled faintly of lavender and wood polish. The walls were lined with framed pictures of smiling strangers, and the faint hum of a ceiling fan on the ceiling. He pushed the thick and cold quilt off his chest and sat up too quickly, causing his head to swim.

That’s when he heard it—the soft clatter of ceramic plates and titanium pans clinging together. His senses seemed to sharpen as he zoned in on the sound, hearing the quiet hum of a tune being sung under someone’s breath. “I’ve been loving you, too long.” He heard the voice of a woman sing as the smell of meat filled his nose, along with a hint of something sweet. He could hear everything else as well, from the steady hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the faint creak of the house as it settled, and even the low rumble of a truck passing somewhere far in the distance. He rose to his feet cautiously, glancing down at himself. His torn armor was gone, replaced with a clean t-shirt that fit his frame a little tight.

He could feel the memories rushing back to him, but it all wasn’t clear. He could only remember being in the escape vessel before something happened and then it all cut the heat he felt from the speed of the ship and then the crash. He remembered home but he didn’t have a clue as to how anything led to now.

He then realized his body felt different when he stood. Stronger. Lighter. He looked down as he clenched a fist and felt the sense of power or energy, humming just beneath the surface, waiting. His gaze darted around the room, catching sight of a mirror on the wall near the fireplace. He moved over to it, looking at his clean and clear face. He looked as if nothing happened. He then turned back around, observing the place he was now in.

The house was large but cozy, every surface filled with framed photographs, antique knickknacks, and small vases of wildflowers. A knit blanket had been folded neatly and draped over the back of the green couch he rose from, his quilt discarded on the floor. He then saw some sort of gun leaning against a chair angled towards the couch—close but not threateningly so. He turned his head and then began his move toward where he heard the voice from, causing the wooden floor to groan softly beneath his weight. He flinched at the sound, but even as he moved, his senses adjusted. He could hear her still. Her voice. She was humming. The faint sound of a song he didn’t recognize on her lips.

Dev’s brow furrowed, and he tilted his head as though he could see through the walls. His senses then kicked in without permission. The faintest shift in his vision brought the world into sharp relief. He blinked, startled as the wall in front of him seemed to blur and fade, revealing a woman standing by the stove, her honey-roasted skin shining in the sun that seeped through the kitchen, and the reddish tint to her hair swept into a mess of curls at the top of her head, wrapped in a emerald green scarf as she stirred something in a skillet. He could see through the wall, clear as day.

He stumbled back, a rush of panic tightening his chest. What was happening to him?

The creak of the floorboards gave him away as he stepped toward the kitchen. “Good mornin’.” The soft voice called to him before he even reached the doorway. He hesitated, his muscles tensing as he stepped further into the room. And there she was—the woman he’d seen through the wall. She was a young woman with very curly hair and a lot of it. She was standing at the stove, her back to him as she poured batter mix into the small waffle machine next to the stove. She glanced over her shoulder, giving a view of her face. Her expression was kind but wary.

“Figured you’d wake up hungry.” She said, gesturing toward the small table near the window to their left, where a plate full of food was already waiting.

His gaze shifted to the plate, looking at the many varieties of food on it. They then darted around the kitchen, taking in every detail—the mismatched stool chairs at the island-style bar and the ones at the table, the vase of wildflowers in the center of the table, the open window letting in a soft breeze. He could hear the sound of water faintly moving from the open pane, ducks quacking and mosquitoes buzzing. He gulped, brows furrowed as he tried to take in everything that surrounded him, wondering if he could piece together where he could be from the environment and her weird clothing. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. “Where am I?”

She stopped what she was doing to slowly tune her head towards him, face contorted in confusion “Louisiana.” She said, blinking at him as if his question had an obvious answer. But then she realized that none of last night seemed to make sense and she wasn’t quite sure if she was still dreaming or not.

“You’re in New Orleans, Louisiana.” She added, turning back to what she was doing. There was a long silence between them, causing her to turn her head back around and see that the man was now just looking at her, his expression guarded but confused. She pursed her lips, giving him an awkward smile. She then quickly turned the heat down on the gas stove, just letting the bacon fry as she turned back to face him.

“You, uh,…kinda crash-landed in my backyard last night.” She began, her face still fringed in its uncomfortable expression. “Crazy, I know! I, uh, I thought you were dead for sure, but you were breathin’, so I just brought you on in.” She shrugged as she explained. The man just stood there, his face still stoic but confused. He frowned, thinking of it all since his memory was still fuzzy. The last thing he could still recall was the explosion... and then falling. He closed his eyes, fragments of his home flashing in his mind. Memories flooded his mind, his friends, and family. But none of it was clear. How he got here wasn’t clear.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” She questioned, breaking the silence. His eyes snapped open, and for a moment, he said nothing. He just stared at her, watching the wince she had on her face as she seemed to register just about all it meant with him being there. Finally, he shook his head. “No. I’m not.”

She nodded slowly, opening the waffle maker and then setting the hot cake on a plate on the island behind her. “Well, I figured as much, seein’ as you were wearin’ somethin’ that looked like it came out of one of those space movies and whatnot.” She grinned uncomfortably as she nodded her head. “And the fact that you…crashed into my backyard.” She added, letting out a slight wince. “But...you don’t seem like you’re here to hurt me, so...” She trailed off. She wasn’t normally such a nervous wreck when it came to speaking to people, and oddly enough especially strangers.

And she wasn’t even nervous that there was some stranger in her house. Well, not fully since she was the one that brought him into her home. She was just extremely confused over the whole occurrence of everything. The wish, the shooting star, him…crashing into her backyard and it all being real? She felt like she was losing her mind and the only thing keeping her sane was speaking. And the boatload of cooking she did.

“I’m not,” he said quickly, his tone firm with his eyes locked on her form. She gulped, her hands anxiously fiddling with each other on the counter as she faced him. “Good to know.” She said with a small smile, before grabbing the waffle plate and moving it to the small table next to the window. She placed it on the table with the rest of the food and then began untying her apron. She looked over at him, offering a soft smile as she brought the cloth over her head. “Have a seat.” She gestured to the wooden chair next to her.

Dev just stood there, his gaze unwavering from her face as she stared at him, her eyes jumping between his features. “Please.” She added softly before taking a seat in the bay window booth that circled the small table. Dev steadily moved to the table, pulling out one of the wooden chairs on the opposite end of the table, since the window provided a seat for the other side. He sat across from her, his eyes on the food before him while she watched his every move.

Once he was seated, she began again. “Name’s Magnolia, by the way. Most folks just call me..well, Magnolia. Never really had a nickname.” She grinned at him. Deb just nodded his head, looking at her. There was a pause between them, the pair staring at each other. Sitting there, she just realized the color of his eyes. The striking bright eyes stared into her soul. She couldn’t tell what coke they were, shades of all colors within them as they shined in the light coming through the window behind her.

He admired the way the sun seemed to shine around her like some sort of glow emitting from her skin. The glow made her hair seem as if it was on fire as it lightened it.

“Dev-Em.” He replied, though his voice was stiff, awkward. Magnolia’s brows spiked, his voice snapping her out of her thoughts. “That is my name.” He clarified.

“Well, Dev-Em.” She said, leaning back in her chair. “I might regret saying all of this but, you know, I think I kinda brought this onto myself.” She said, letting out a nervous laugh. “You’re welcome to stay here till you get back on your feet. As long as you don’t wreck my kitchen, we’ll get along just fine.” She grinned.

Dev hesitated, unsure of how to respond. His instincts told him not to trust so easily, but there was something about her—her calm demeanor but anxious jittering under his gaze, the way she didn’t press him for details of everything—that made him nod. “Thank you.” He said quietly.

Magnolia smiled, though there was a touch of nervousness in her eyes. “You’re welcome. Now eat before it gets cold.” She said, beating to the food. She quickly then began to dig into hers, pouring a little bit of syrup onto her waffle.

As he picked up his fork, the smell of the food under his nose made his stomach growl. “Thank you.” He said. Everything from bacon to eggs laid around, the option of grits and oatmeal offered with an assortment of toppings for their specific taste, for the oats and their small waffles. For the first time in days—maybe longer—he felt a small flicker of safety. Magnolia watched him from across the table, her gaze softening as she saw the guarded tension in his shoulders begin to ease. She stuffed her face with the food, watching as he did the same across from her. She wasn’t too sure of where he came from, her best and most logical bet was that he fell from a plane, even if that didn’t make any sense as to why he had no scars. Or broken bones. Or why he was alive.

All that to say, she wasn’t sure if he had the same food as she did, but he didn’t seem to care with the way he tore into it.

“Well,” She said, breaking the silence with a teasing tone. “You sure are polite for an alien.” She let it slip before she could even think of it, dropping her fork onto her place as she placed her head in her hands.

Dev looked up, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Alien?”

Magnolia let out a small huff before she shrugged, an unsure grin tugging at her lips. “I mean, you did fall from the sky.” She began, her face slowly morphing into one of uncertainty. “At least, I think so. I’m not too sure anymore, last night was sort of a blur and I’m just very confused.” She sighed, going back to her food with a dejected look on her face. “If I could ask Mufasa I would.” She mumbled before taking a chunk out of her bacon.

Deb only became more confused, still eating as he looked at her.

“Mufasa?” He repeated, his accent and not hearing her making him pronounce the name wrong. But it didn’t seem to matter anyway before the bundle of orange bound into the kitchen, his bell letting out a soft ding as he brushed his fur against Dev’s bare feet on his way to the bench with Magnolia. Dev’s eyes slightly widened at the sight of the animal that situated itself next to the woman, just staring at him with a bored look. A little too expressive for an animal, might he add. Magnolia just glanced over at the cat.

“That’s Mufasa.” She said in a monotone before looking back at the cat. “And what did I tell you about being in my kitchen? This is not some white folks home, get.” She said sternly, pointing out of the door he came. The orange cat let out a single meow before jumping from the booth and trudging his way out. Dev’s eyes just went back to her once the animal was gone, confused and a little concerned at everything he’s witnessed so far.

Seeing his confused look, Magnolia squinted her eyes at him. “Me talking to my pet is the least of your concerns right now.” She said, menacingly gesturing her fork at him before digging back into her food. Dev let out the faintest chortle at her words before digging back into the delicious meal.

After finishing most of the meal in silence, Dev suddenly spoke. “Do you know what happened to me?” He asked, his voice low and full of strained pain.

Magnolia paused, just about to place a strawberry into her mouth. She then blinked, it clicking within her mind that he might not remember much. She then let out a small sigh before sitting the fruit down. “Well sugar, to put it simply, I’m not all too sure.” She said, shrugging. Dev blinked at the nickname but didn’t look up from his plate as she continued, feeling her gaze on him. “One moment I’m on my porch, reading a book and enjoying the stars. Next, there’s a crash in my backyard and I go back there to see you on my precious tomatoes.” She explained. “Though they weren’t that precious, some animals’ been nipping at ‘em and I actually don’t like tomatoes.” She grinned.

Dev’s face stayed stoic, his gaze moving from his food for only a moment. He glanced at her before looking away from her soft gaze. He shook his head, his frown deepening as he thought of it all. “I just……everything is different. I feel different. Things are louder and brighter for some reason.” He began to explain. He didn’t know why he was confessing all of this to her, or even speaking on his feelings in the first place. But it just felt like the right thing to do. It was the only thing he had left to him.

Magnolia’s face sided even more, leaning her head down to gaze at his face more, seeing the internal conflict he was having. “Do you, remember what happened?” She questioned hesitatingly.

Dev gulped before shaking his head, finally raising his eyes to look back at her. “All I remember is…leaving. Leaving my home. Anything after that is fractured.” He stated, staring at her. Magnolia gave him a soft smile, looking him in the eye. Her heart hurt for him. He seemed so alone, and even though he was trying his best to hide it and stay strong, she could tell he was on the brink of breaking. This seemed to be the point to drive him over the edge.

“Well, I don’t really know what you’ve got goin’ on with all that, you know, this is a strange situation. But you were a mess when I found you.” She stated. “All bloodied, bruised, looking like you’d just been through hell. I cleaned you up as best as I could and let you rest. That’s all I could do.” She said.

Dev seemed to relax slightly, though the tension in his shoulders didn’t completely fade. He glanced down at his hands again, the memory of him looking through the wall and the power he felt at the end of his fingertips.

“Listen,” Magnolia said softly as she reached over to place her hand on his still one. Her voice alone caught his attention, but her gentle tone and her soft touch ignited something within him deep down that he couldn’t understand nor dwell on at the moment. “You’re safe here, okay? Whatever’s happenin’, we’ll figure it out. I’ll help you as best as I can.”She smiled at him. “I mean, I couldn’t imagine going through what you’re going through alone. I’d want the help.”

Her words surprised him. He’d expected suspicion, fear, even hostility. But there was none of that in her voice. Just... kindness. He nodded slowly, still wary but grateful nonetheless, subconsciously flexing his hand under her thumb that rubbed against the back of his hand. Magnolia smiled, a little nervous but genuine, and scooted her way off the bench.

“Good, because now we’ve got to get you settled.” She smiled before rising from her seat. Dev furrowed his brows, his eyes trailing her as she walked away with her plate. “You better hurry up and finish. First thing first, we gotta get you checked out to make sure everything is okay.” She said, not running to face him as she began cleaning her mess. Dev’s heart spiked at her words, concern texting his way into his chest as he thought of having to leave. And then interact with the people outside. And their environment.

As if she could sense his worry, she started again. “And done sweat it too much, I’m real close with a doctor down here named Leroy. He’s at work right now but we’re gonna go give him a little visit and then after that, we’ll get you all set.” She said. She then sat down the rag she had and turned to face him. Even though his face didn’t show it, she could see the questions flying within his mind. She held her hands out in caution, stepping back over to the table. “It’s okay. I trust Leroy with my entire life. He’s been there for me since I was a baby. Technically a step-grandpa but we were never raised in the same home and it’s just really complicated so I just call him Uncle Leroy.” She rambled.

Dev just started up at her, and she tried her best not to get lost in his large sea-green eyes. He then nodded before going back to consume the rest of the food on his plate. Magnolia stood there for a moment, watching him eat and caught up in her own thoughts. Thoughts about what she was going to do now that he was here, how long he’d be staying with her, how the hell any of this was even possible—she still wasn’t quite sure if she was losing her mind or not.

She then gulped and turned away, moving back to clean the kitchen. They coexisted in silence. Dev scarfed down the rest of the food that was available on the table while Magnolia cleaned the mess she made in the storm of her cooking. She’d then wait until a dish on the table was left barren by Dev, moving to collect it wot give it a nice clean.

It wasn’t long before Dev rose from his seat, gathering off of the empty dishes from the table that were left after Magnolia gathered the others from her hovering. She stepped to take the plates from his grasp with her usually content and joyous expression, only for Dev to hold out his hand.

“I can do it.” He explained, staring down at her. Magnolia looked back up at him, not standing closer to his frame and just now noticing how tall and muscular he really was. She blinked her big eyes up at him. “Okay.” She nodded before moving out of the way. Dev stepped around her, moving to the sink that faced more large windows that this home seemed to be full of.

He cleaned quietly, using the warm dishwater and a coarse sponge to scrub away at crumbs of food left. He could feel her eyes on him still, watching as he worked around the kitchen with no issue. He finished in no time, drying his hands in the cloth next to the stove and then turning to face her. Magnolia was quick to flash him a large smile. “Great! Now we can get going.” She said before moving to her front door, which wasn’t too far from the kitchen, and gathering all she needed. Her sweater, even though she didn’t need one, hung in the coat rack. Her shoes were on the floor next to the door and her keys hung in a hook above all. She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of Dev’s steps behind her.

“Your shoes are there.” She said, pointing to the boots he came in near hers, exceptionally larger.

Dev placed the boots on his feet at the same time as hers, her getting dressed much more hastily than him. She quickly grabbed her bag and a large jacket from another hook. She held the clothing item out to him. “Here, you can wear this if you want. It’s not exactly good out but you might want to cover up, you know? Not that you need to cover up, it’s totally cool if you don’t. But you can just take it just in case.” She rushed out, still holding the jacket. Dev paused, his brows twitching in confusion for only a moment before he took the item from her hands.

“It’s fine. I’ll take it.” He said. He didn’t really know what to say to her rambling but he seemed to just say anything if it got her to calm her verse just a tad. Magnolia gave him a smile before rushing out of the door with everything on her. Dev was close on her heel, only glancing back at the sound of a bell to see Mufasa sitting at the bottom of the steps, watching them leave. He didn’t know why, but he flashed the animal a small smile before closing the door, moving out of the way for Magnolia to lock it.

“Fasa will be fine, he’s smart and crazy. I’ve seen him scare a gator from my backyard once.” She said, catching the small look the man gave the mysterious cat before jumping off her steps and moving over to her blue Ford pickup truck. Not that he had a clue what the hell that even was. Dev stood on the porch, observing what he could. Her porch was sort of cluttered but pretty. Potted plants with pretty flowers hung from the banister of the house, some littering the wooden flora of the porch. To his right was a porch swing filled with books, old books tattered and well-loved. To his right was a rocking chair, tucked into the corner where the taking net the all of the house, guarding whoever sat in it from falling. It looked cozy, with a blanket and two pillows on it, and more flowers surrounded the light wooden chair with intricate engravings on it.

There was space for another chair next to it, closer to the steps of the porch, but it was empty save the small footstool decided to look like a little chair. He could assume it was only for Mufasa.

He couldn’t even observe the rest of the hard and surrounding homes before the sound of the door slamming on the truck startled him, although he didn’t show it. Magnolia had her arms stuck out of her window, her head angled to look at his form on the porch. “You can ogle later, pretty boy! Hop in!” She cheesed, before ducking back into the car and cranking it.

Dev frowned, slowly making his way to the loud machine she inserted herself into, stopping at the door she was directly next to. His face showed a look of almost concern as he gazed into the odd box and glanced around it. Magnolia looked at him in confusion as he stuck his head through the window. She leaned hers back, his face almost colliding with hers.

She let out a small laugh before she placed her hand on the side of his face, pushing his head back out of the window. “What are you doing?”

“What is this?” Dev asked, looking at the colored machine. Magnolia furrowed her brows, a small smile still on her face in amusement as she looked at him, watching as he ran his fingers across the side of the car. It slowly fell once she realized he was speaking of the car. He didn’t know what the car was. She closed her eyes, letting out a small sigh.

She snapped them back open. “Uh, never mind that right now, I’ll explain it on the way over. I want you to go around and get in on that side.” She said. Dev didn’t say anything before moving around the front of the car, Magnolia’s eyes not leaving him once as he made his way to the passenger side. He pulled the door open with no problem before only a tad caustically moving to take a seat. Once the door closed behind him, Magnolia locked the door and pulled out of the driveway.

“Put your seat belt on, please.” She said, glancing k we at him once the vehicle started dinging.

“Seatbelt?” Dev frowned over at her, his big eyes filled with confusion and a little wary at how fast she was riveting for just having pulled out of the driveway. Magnolia pursed her lips at him.

“This is going to be a long day, Sugar.”

@kneelarmhstrung

@winorlosetogether

@joshuafatubaee

@becauseimswagman1

@nubiagurllll

@gwenda-fav

[0310s]

wiping something off their lips (jaehyun ver.) 𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

members: boynextdoor legal line x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers, they have a crush on u waaah >_<!!!

wc: 1.6k

a/n: this was supposed to be 600 words... something insane happened in my brain and i churned out 1.6k in an hour. let me know if you liked this <3

ᯓ★ 

as the #1 messiest eater in boynextdoor, this scenario is most likely to happen to him… have you seen the multiple videos of riwoo wiping food off his lips… also aside from being #1 messiest eater he is also #1 babiest baby boy of boynextdoor.

when you’re both walking along the streets of seoul and spot a vendor selling cream-filled pastries, jaehyun rushes forward to purchase two—one for him, and one for you. he’s so excited that he gobbles down his pastry and makes an entire mess. there’s cream all over his lips, and he looks like one of those happy babies with food smeared all over their mouth (although not to that extent… but almost lmfao)!!! he doesn’t notice the mess he’s made until you grip his chin and tell him to “stay still.” you pull out a wet wipe from your bag and carefully dab at his lips. 

with your eyes still trained on his mouth, jaehyun takes this moment to stare at you. he’s always known you were pretty, but something about you being this near him is making him feel utterly lightheaded. your perfume is sweet and comforting, and your fingers on his lips feel so gentle. whether it be your scent or your voice or your presence, he likes everything about you… wait, like?

“all done! you gotta be more careful next time,” you lament, disposing the wipe in a nearby trashcan. “anyway, those creampuffs were the best thing i’ve ever tasted since the tiramisu we ate last month…” at his lack of response, you realize jaehyun’s not walking beside you, and you swivel around to see him standing stock still in the middle of the street. his expression looks like he’s come to some sort of realization. “jaehyun?” you bound over to him and wave your hand in front of his face, and he snaps out of his little daze.

“yeah? no, yeah, sorry, i just… let’s go,” jaehyun starts walking, and you trail after him, confused. what was that about?

“so i actually like like them,” jaehyun announces back at the dorm. “i thought it was normal that i found them cute and everything, because anyone with eyes can see that! i didn’t think that it was deeper than that. but i realized that it wasn’t just about their looks… i just. really enjoy their presence and how i can be myself in front of them, like, really myself you know???” taesan and leehan share a look before shaking their heads in unison. “hey!” jaehyun protests. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“we know,” taesan bemoans. “you talk about them your every waking moment, and whenever you spend time with us, you always talk about how you wish they were here.”

“taesan’s right,” leehan adds. “you look at them like they hung the stars. i think it’s obvious to everyone except you, honestly. and them too, because they think you flirt like that with everyone.”

jaehyun groans in response, messing up his hair in frustration. “so… what am i gonna do? it’s not like they like me back. this is driving me crazy... how am i supposed to act around them now that i know i like them?!” his friends share another look. “don’t do that!”

“calm down, jaehyun.” leehan comfortingly pats his friend on the shoulder. “why don’t you treat them as a friend first while you’re unsure about what to do next? after all, you like them as a friend too. i’m sure your dynamic wouldn’t change that quickly.” jaehyun nods in agreement, swearing to do exactly that.

taesan laughs at this. “well, i think jaehyun’s going to fuck this up by being very awkward and obvious.” 

leehan shoots taesan a glare. “don’t mind him, jaehyun. we’re both on your side.” taesan huffs but doesn’t disagree. okay, jaehyun. just be normal. how difficult can it be? 

it proves to be extremely difficult, actually. the next time you hang out together, jaehyun thinks everything is going well, and both of you are talking and laughing like normal. half an hour later, you and jaehyun are snacking on bunggeopang on the side of the road. the streets are empty today save for a few high school students milling about. jaehyun, unaware of how messy an eater he is, is too enthusiastic about his pastry. he’s gesticulating wildly, reenacting a funny story that happened to him days ago, and doesn’t notice until you firmly grip his chin between your fingers. “jaehyun, stop moving for a second.” oh fuck. be normal, be normal, be normal…

expecting to feel cool cloth on his face, jaehyun all but freezes when you use your thumb instead to wipe off the pastry filling on the corner of his mouth. oh god. oh fuck. oh fuck fuck fucking god fuckity fuck fuck. “sorry, don’t have wipes with me this time,” your tone is regretful. jaehyun feels like his heart is about to jump out of his chest. he attempts to wriggle out of your hold, but you grip him even harder. “stay, jaehyun.” oh god, that made me feel some sort of way. fuck, wait! be normal, be normal, don’t say anything… “i’m not done. there’s still some on your…” 

to make it worse (or better, jaehyun can’t tell at this point), you trail your thumb over his bottom lip several times, nodding when you’re sure there are no more smears. “there! all clean,” you declare, finally letting go of jaehyun. he feels his knees go weak as you suck your thumb into your mouth, releasing it with a pop. you’re wearing a very pretty lip gloss. oh fuck. “ooh, custard filling, my favorite! i should have gotten that flavor… maybe next time,” you sigh forlornly. “anyway, jaehyun, should we get going?”

“uhhhhhhhhhhh,” is the only thing jaehyun can respond with. his brain is malfunctioning and he can’t do words anymore. “uhhhhhhhhhhh.” 

you frown in concern and put a hand on his shoulder. “jaehyun? is something wrong-”

jaehyun can’t do this anymore. “ilikeyousomuchihaveacrushonyou,” he blurts out all in one breath, hiding his face in his hands out of mortification. “i’m sorry. i thought i could pretend and act like things were normal between us, but ever since you wiped my mouth last week and you were so close to me, i couldn’t stop thinking about you. and how i feel so nervous around you now that my heart is just going insane. i just had to be honest with you, i don’t think i can keep it a secret. i tried but i failed and. i. i…” 

at your lack of response, jaehyun peeks at you through his fingers. you’re stone-still, and he can’t tell what you’re thinking. oh fuck. he suddenly recalls his promise with leehan and taesan to treat you as a friend first and realizes how badly he’s fucked up. a fresh wave of fear overcomes him, not just at the thought of you rejecting him, but at the notion of losing your friendship. oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck… 

jaehyun’s trying his best not to cry, but he feels so miserable. “i’m sorry, you can ignore that, i don’t want to lose our friendship, i promise that i won’t let my feelings affect our friendship, please, i still want us to be friends.” maybe if he rambles long enough, he thinks, he can suppress the impulse to wail like a little child. 

“wait, jaehyun, i… you like like me?” he nods. “like, more than friends?” he nods again. “like… romantically?”

“yeah,” jaehyun lets out an exhale. “‘m sorry i confessed all of a sudden. i just. couldn’t keep it in anymore. i just have all these feelings for you that i didn’t know where to put them. but i swear,” he pleads, “we don’t have to talk about this. we can just move on from this and i won’t bother you with my feelings ever again. i, i really care for you and still want to be your friend…” 

“what if…” you whisper, “i don’t want to?” 

jaehyun’s face falls, and it takes everything in him not to sob. he’s never even considered the possibility you might not want to be friends anymore. “oh. i. i mean that’s totally understandable. i respect that, yeah. i must have made you uncomfortable. i’m sorry. i won’t bother you anymore.” don’t cry in front of them, jaehyun, don’t cry…

but before jaehyun can turn to leave, you grip his hand tightly so he can’t escape.“no, jaehyun. i mean… what if i didn’t want to move on? what if… i want us to be more than friends too?” 

jaehyun can’t believe what he’s hearing. “wait. are you serious?” a feeling akin to hope blooms inside him. 

you nod, your expression growing shyer by the minute. “you’re always so kind and attentive to me. you listen to me whether i’m feeling good or shitty, and you never mock me. and… you’re also really cute,” you giggle. “i honestly thought you saw me as a friend because you flirt with literally everyone… until you confessed, now. i really like you too, jaehyun, if you’ll have me…?” you still haven’t let go of his hand, and you’re idly playing with his fingers while waiting for his response. 

“OH MY GOD YES! i mean, yes! me too! please! i would. like. yes. i want. to be your boyfriend, oh my god, sorry, i keep stumbling over my words like an idiot,” jaehyun babbles. he feels his hand grow sweaty with nerves and tries to twist out of your grasp. instead, you beam, pull him in with your intertwined hands, and peck his cheek. oh my god, they just kissed me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“well… at least you can be my idiot. now let’s go!” you don’t let go of his hand, and jaehyun has a dopey, lovestruck grin on his face all the way back.

[wholoveseggs]

Kinktober - {Day Eighteen} {<- kinktober masterlist}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List} {Kinktober}

{Kol Mikaelson x F!Reader} Request {@perseephoneee}: AGAHWHWN KINKTOBER IS HERE YOU SLUTS!! now you know me so I shall be requesting kol with either size kink or first time!! mwah 💋

♡♡♡ Ahhh! I love you @perseephoneee! And you can have both size kink and first time ~xoxox ♡♡♡

2.6k words - Kinks: this one is super romantic and sappy, first time, size kink & a picnic date...

It was a warm summer evening, with the sky painted in a beautiful mix of dark blue, purple, and orange. Your boyfriend, Kol, was taking you to a meadow where the two of you could have a picnic and enjoy the scenery. It felt like something out of a dream, and you couldn't be happier to be spending time with him.

When you arrived, Kol spread out a large blanket for the two of you to sit on. He placed a wicker basket full of food in the center. "This is all for you, sweetheart."

You sat down, crossing your legs as Kol joined you. You looked at the assortment of foods he'd brought and smiled when you noticed some of your favorites. Picking up a chocolate-covered strawberry, you took a slow bite, savoring the sweetness. A soft moan escaped your lips as the rich chocolate melted in your mouth.

"You didn't have to do all this for me, Kol," you said, your voice soft with appreciation as you took another bite.

"Nonsense," he responded with a charming grin, his eyes twinkling in the fading sunlight. "A girl like you deserves the world."

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. Kol had always been a charmer, but his compliments still made you feel warm inside. He had a way of making you feel like the most special person in the world, and tonight was no different.

"Here, have some wine." He handed you a glass, which you accepted with a grateful smile.

You sipped the wine, feeling the warmth of the alcohol mixed with the evening air. As you nibbled on more food, the conversation flowed easily between you. You were surprised to find out that Kol enjoyed horror movies, something you hadn’t expected. When you told him about your love for romcoms, he grinned.

"Don't worry, darling, I'll keep the monsters away from you," he teased.

You giggled, giving him a playful nudge. "You don’t have to do that. I can protect myself, you know."

"I'm sure you can," he said, his voice softening as his arm wrapped around you. "But let me be your hero."

You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his body soothing and familiar. The meadow was growing darker, the soft buzz of crickets filling the air, and the glow of fireflies flickering around you, adding to the romance of the evening.

As the sun set completely, the two of you lay back on the blanket, staring up at the stars, your fingers intertwined. The sky above was like a dark canvas, dotted with glimmering lights. Your heart skipped a beat when you spotted a shooting star streak across the sky.

"Look, there's a shooting star!" you exclaimed, pointing excitedly.

Kol followed your gaze, a smile tugging at his lips. "Make a wish, darling."

You closed your eyes, silently making a wish before opening them again. When you looked over at Kol, he was watching you with a soft, almost reverent expression, his gaze filled with something that made your heart race.

"What did you wish for?" he asked, his voice low.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "I can't tell you, or it won't come true."

Kol smirked playfully. "Fine, keep your secrets," he teased, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your temple.

As the evening deepened, Kol’s lips began to trail down your neck, leaving soft, teasing kisses that sent shivers through you. You could feel the tension building between you, a tension that had been simmering all night. His kisses were gentle, but there was an urgency beneath them that made your pulse quicken.

The two of you had never gone all the way before, though you had shared intimate moments. Kol had always been respectful, never pushing you for more than you were ready to give. But tonight felt different. Tonight, you felt ready. You wanted him, and you wanted him in every way.

Your hand slid down his chest, feeling the muscles under his shirt as your fingers trailed down to his belt. Kol’s kisses paused as he pulled back to look at you, his eyes filled with concern.

"Are you sure, love?" he asked, his voice gentle. "We don’t have to do anything. I can wait as long as you need."

Your heart swelled at the care in his voice, but the need inside you was undeniable. You bit your lip and nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm ready. I want this. I want you."

Kol’s gaze softened, his eyes filled with adoration. For a moment, he simply stared at you, as if trying to memorize every detail of your face. Then he kissed you again, this time with more passion, more fire. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that sent sparks through your entire body.

You let your hand drift lower, brushing against the hard length of him through his pants. Kol chuckled softly against your lips, pulling back just enough to speak.

"Not too fast, darling," he said with a smirk, before going back to kissing you. He started undressing you slowly, his hands lingering over each new bit of skin he revealed.

The air was getting colder, but the heat between the two of you kept you warm. Once you were fully undressed, you felt self-conscious about your body, and tried to cover yourself up. You had never been exposed in front of anyone like this before.

He gave you an understanding look and kissed you again, his lips soft and reassuring. He leaned back and pulled out another blanket from the basket, covering the both of you. "There, now we'll stay nice and warm."

You blushed and let your arms fall, allowing him to take in the sight of you. You were still nervous, but his gaze filled you with a strange sort of confidence.

He continued trailing kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. You sighed softly, closing your eyes as his hands caressed your bare skin. Your hands roamed over his back, tracing the lines of his muscles.

You felt his fingers brush against your entrance, sending a shiver through your body. Kol gently stroked you, his movements slow and careful, his fingers moving in teasing circles.

"Tell me if it's too much," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, a quiet moan escaping your lips as his fingers dipped inside you. He took his time, working you open, his mouth continuing its trail of kisses. His fingers were so much bigger than yours, and they filled you in a way you hadn't experienced before.

He smiled against your neck, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear. "How does it feel, darling?"

"G-good," you managed to gasp out, your eyes squeezing shut.

He continued his slow exploration, his fingers moving deeper. Your body trembled as you felt your orgasm building. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your heart racing.

Suddenly, his fingers pulled out of you and you let out a small noise of protest, your eyes fluttering open. Kol smirked, his eyes filled with mischief, before he dipped his head under the blanket.

"Kol, what are you -" your question was cut off as his tongue flicked against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

"Oh, god," you moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair as his tongue licked and teased, his fingers slipping back inside you. You couldn't think, could only feel.

The blanket on top of you was suddenly too warm and restrictive, and you yanked it off the both of you. He looked up at you, his dark eyes full of desire. He smirked against you, his lips curling up in a smug grin.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked, his voice a teasing rumble. "Getting too hot?"

You let out a breathy laugh, your fingers tightening in his hair, pushing his face closer. His tongue returned to your clit, and a groan escaped your lips.

"Oh, fuck," you whimpered, your body tensing as your orgasm drew closer. Kol seemed to sense this, and he doubled his efforts, his fingers moving faster and his tongue swirling around your clit.

The tension in your body snapped and you cried out, your hips bucking involuntarily as the pleasure washed over you. Kol kept licking and sucking, prolonging the sensation. Your vision blurred and you collapsed back onto the blanket, panting.

"Wow," you gasped, staring up at the starry sky, your body humming with pleasure.

Kol grinned and crawled back up, hovering over you, his eyes roaming over your face. "You are a vision, darling."

You blushed, pulling him down for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. Your body was already aching for more, and you could feel his hardness pressed against your thigh.

His kisses were gentle and tender, and it felt as if he were worshiping your lips with his. He didn't want to rush you, and the slowness was driving you crazy. You could feel yourself growing impatient, your need for him intensifying.

"Kol," you whispered, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "I want you."

He pulled back, his eyes filled with uncertainty. "Are you sure, love? I don't want to hurt you."

You nodded, your hand sliding down his chest to his belt, finally freeing his cock from its confines. He let out a groan as you began stroking him, your touch feather-light.

His eyes fell closed, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your skin. "Fuck," he whispered, his voice strained. "You're going to be the death of me."

"Then I guess you better fuck me," you replied, a teasing smirk on your face.

"Such a crude word from such a pretty mouth," he said, his own mouth curling up into a smirk.

He moved down and guided himself inside you, pushing past the slight resistance. Your body was still sensitive from your previous orgasm, and the new sensation sent waves of pleasure through you.

He was big, much bigger than his fingers, and he stretched you in a way that was almost too much, but not quite. You were still relaxed and wet from before, and it helped ease the pressure as he filled you completely.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice low and strained.

All you could do was nod, your body adjusting to his size. He held still, giving you a moment to get used to him, his eyes watching yours intently.

You reached up and kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Your legs wrapped around his waist, urging him to move. He pulled back slightly, then thrust forward, drawing a gasp from your lips.

The feeling was intense, but not painful, and it sent sparks of pleasure through your body. He did it again, this time a little harder, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Yes," you moaned, your head falling back.

His movements became faster and more urgent, his breathing ragged. He leaned down, his mouth capturing yours in a hungry kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips.

You met his movements with your own, your bodies moving in sync, your nails digging into his shoulders. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling, and the coil of pleasure within you grew tighter with every thrust.

He kissed along your jaw, his teeth grazing your skin, his hands gripping your hips. His rhythm became erratic, and you could tell he was close, trying to hold back for you.

"Kol, I'm going to-" Your words were cut off by a cry as your second orgasm hit, your body shuddering beneath his.

Kol groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he followed you over the edge. He collapsed against you, his forehead pressed against yours, both of you panting.

You couldn't believe how good it felt to be this close to someone, to have their body joined with yours. He was so sweet and considerate and you felt so lucky to have him be your first. You could hardly contain the amount of affection and love you had for him.

Kol lifted his head and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, his eyes filled with emotion. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, a tender smile playing on his lips. You were shivering slightly from the cold and the thin layer of sweat that coated your bodies.

"Here, darling," he said, wrapping the blanket around the two of you, "let's get you warm."

He laid down beside you and pulled you into his arms, the warmth of his body chasing away the chill in the air. You snuggled against him, your head resting on his chest, his heartbeat a steady drum beneath your ear.

"So, what did you wish for earlier?" he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.

"You," you replied, leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I wished for you."

His eyes softened, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. You had no idea how precious your heart was, and how far he would go to protect it. You were everything to him, and he would cherish you until the end of time.

"I'm glad it came true," he whispered, holding you tighter.

The two of you lay there for a while, just enjoying each other's presence. The air was getting cooler, and the crickets were beginning to quiet down. Soon, the only sound was the faint rustle of the trees in the wind.

You closed your eyes, the sound lulling you to sleep. The last thing you heard was a soft whisper in your ear.

"Sleep well, darling. I love you."

{<- kinktober masterlist}

[alkelkha]

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐓. chapter two

relationship — jinx/powder x fem!blk coded reader

contents&warnings! : wc: 3.2k | post season 2 | lower-case indented | author attempts to write action-ish scene | reader gets beat up | don't worry jinx saves the day | jinx being jittery | yes there is a plot to this ff | yes i am making this up along i go | PLEASE GIVE ME IDEAS FOR FUTURE CHAPTERS | not beta read | mentions of blood | jinx and reader finally become friends |

❛❛ CRASHLANDIN' ON YA' ❜❜

a shooting star was your first impression of it.

the past week had been terrible; there were no bonfires on the beach this time because everyone was at the town center celebrating for whatever reason. you stumbled onto the beach sand and stayed on the ground coughing hysterically.

sand stuck to your wet body and hair. you were so tired you could barely keep your head up. what was this, the third time you’ve been waterboarded? but hey, who’s keeping count? this is the price that comes with being a good person. curiosity killed the cat, and it was going to get you killed one day.

you’ve accepted it— death, and if you were going to die, it might as well be for something cool like trying to take down the gang that has your home in a chokehold. what’s so wrong with wanting to go out a hero? 

then that’s when you saw it. a bright white star rushing away in the sky. 

the perfect time to make a wish! you folded your hands together and closed your eyes.

star… make my life worth more than this.

you opened your eyes and the star was…coming towards you?

your eyes widened, and you booked it off the sandy territory, losing balance every now and then. dunking and hiding behind the concrete wall that separated the beach from everything else, you covered your ears. the debris covered the portion of the beach, some even thrown over your head.

you kept your eyes closed for a long time before noticing the orange hue of the flames. getting up from your hiding spot and walking towards the destruction. there wasn’t much fire so those would be easy to put out. the fire wasn’t your concern though, it was what you would find. was someone there? are they alive?

coughing and waving your hand in front of your face to wave out the smoke, you finally found someone. they were crawling away from the rubble. you run over to them, but just as you get there their body has already gone limp. it was a female your age, the prettiest shade of blue you’ve ever seen, with a purple streak.

you knelt down and scooped her up in your arms, the stranger in your arms was light— and you had the strength of the average woman. 

overtime the locals got her settled down, and she became flosnum’s talk of the town. apparently, there were three other people in the blimp that crashed but didn’t survive. not that the blue-haired mystery woman would know since she spent the majority of her time being nursed back to health and secluding herself from the rest of the world in her new complementary flosnum home. flosnum has had a huge population surge which meant a lot more houses and some left vacant. 

as creepy as it sounds, you couldn’t stop thinking about thinking about her. washing dishes? thinking of her. bartending? thinking of her blue hair. staying at that boring shop filled with gunk? thinking about what kind of person she is. 

it’s safe to say she lived in your mind rent-free. you couldn’t help it; she just seemed so cool! coming from the times you’ve been able to catch a glimpse of her. she dressed so strangely, too. you wanted to ask her so many things. where was she from? is her hair naturally blue? is her favorite color blue? what does she like?

just what kind of person was she?

the first time you were able to formally meet her was two days ago. 

TINKETTES: SCRAPS & PARTS

leon, the old man who owned this place, had died. rest in peace. he left behind a museum of metal scrapes, tools, wires, and a whole bunch of other stuff that you didn’t understand. the only reason you were tending to it was because leon was the bar owner’s brother and he said he would give you a raise if you did this one favor for him. 

in the back area for employees only, you threw a ball at the wall and caught it. you did that a couple hundred times before you heard the windchimes sung. someone was here? nobody ever visited.

trying to get out of the chair too fast, you ended up falling on your side. you opened the door to find her, of all people. 

you swear you’re not a creep, but just from her backview, she was gorgeous. you wondered what she looked like with long hair. 

"need help with anything?”

it was a normal day at the ‘SEVEN CHIMES’ (aka the pub). mindlessly placing drinks down in front of customers, you barely registered your coworker’s call for you. “[name]!” you turn around and run over to the counter.

“yeah?”

“big don wants to see you after your shift.” stella states as she mixes a drink. a warning. a sharp chill went down your spine, maintaining a smile, you nod.

shit. what was it now? had you not already paid enough money for the month? or was it the incident with the pervert customer? 

you spent the rest of your shift with a gaping pit in your stomach. serving drinks, rowdy customers, talks about the mysterious blue-haired girl.

walking into big don’s office felt like walking into a dark room: ensure of what you would be greeted with. “stella said you needed me?” the sickly pale man, but not thin, leaned back in his chair with a dice between his fingers. his other hand tapped the desk, staring directly at you. “did i not give you a task?”

straighten your posture and answer “you… you did! you told me to hurry up and—“

“—get rid of the shop.” he finishes your sentence. “yes. yes, i did say that, yet i have not seen any progress.”

“i…” your throat felt dry. terribly dry. fidgeting with your hands you finally gain the courage to speak. “i did! i mean i am close to doing so— a girl wanted the shop.”

he nods slowly, rubbing his chin. “…good…good…” big don leans closer to his desk. “you still have to pay for your recent accident, you are aware of that, correct?” 

 “yes sir,” you respond nodding frantically.

letting out a small mocking huff his eyes finally turn away from him. “you’re lucky, you did something good. i’m not as angry as i was before.” he waves his hand to shoo her away. “i will deal with you some other time.”

wasting no time you got out of the office.

you were going to kill him one day.

you didn't dwell on it too much. that wasn’t your thing— as a matter of fact, that was the only thing keeping her alive. it happens, and then it passes over, no need to dwell on it [name]. patting your head (which stella points out to be a nervous tick), you waited for the blue-haired beauty.

she was cute and all, but she seriously needed to hurry up and appear so she could give her the keys to this place. if she didn’t, you would die (half joking). thinking about it… did you say that you would come to her or for her to come to you? you honestly couldn’t remember.

letting out a groan, you put your hands on your face. if you keep looking at the same weirdly bent metal scrap, you are going to lose your shit.

great, now you had to get up.

was walking around flosnum begging people for the tiny pieces of information they had on bluey beauty odd? yes, next question.

if you had to walk another ten minutes in the scorching hot sun, you would melt. being on the verge of heat stroke, you place your hand over your forehead to block the sun and lose your balance a bit, walking backward. you felt your back hit someone.

“oopsie daisy!” the person said in surprise.

turning around to apologize, your eye widens, “bluey!”

she looked less… sad and more alive the last time you saw her. there was neon splatted all over her clothes, and a sparkle in her pink eyes twinkled. she then narrowed at the sight of you, “you…” she was holding a box inside her left arm and was licking an ice cream.

you grab onto her shoulders, “i was looking everywhere for you!” you felt like you could finally breathe without having to worry about dying the next day.

“you were?” she tilts her head, confused about why someone would look for her.

you wrap an arm around her shoulder, she tries to move away from you. normally, you would care about being impolite, but you were on the verge of fainting. “surprise surprise, you got the shop!” you jingle the keys in front of her face. “please, move in as soon as possible.” you said smiling, she finally slips away from your grasp causing you to stumble a bit.

her full frame was now in your view. she was slim, toned core and arms, had an awesome tattoo, and was really pale— too pale for a place like this; some woman would die to have that body.

“gonna give me those keys, or was your real plan just to check me out?” she continues to lick her ice cream. shaking your head, you toss the keys to her. she catches the keys “thanks for the candy, stranger. it really helped a girl out.” she says with her back turned walking away from you.

wait wait. no, that’s not how it’s supposed to go. yeah, you were supposed to give her the keys, but you were hoping for a conversation longer than 30 seconds. okay maybe you were hoping way more than that… maybe being friends or something like that.

jogging up to her pace, you walk alongside her. “so!” you try to keep the conversation going. she furrowed her brows at you, either confused or annoyed by your attempt. “i was thinking since you’re new and everything that maybe you’d need a friend.” 

at first, she slowed down and she just stared. not at you. it was like she was lost in her mind. “a friend, huh?” her voice lowered, “sorry, toots, i don’t do friends.” 

jinx didn’t do friends.

she didn’t need for them. the closest thing she had to a friend was sevika, and she wasn’t even a friend she was more like… an annoying aunt. 

they didn’t last. 

besides… who would want to deal with her? vi didn’t, silco only made her condition worse, she always felt like a chore to sevika, and ekko… boy genius was too good for her. jinx wasn't who he wanted.

powder cleaned up the shop (by cleaning up, she put all the junk in the employee room). it felt nice to clean up; it was like her body was moving on auto-pilot just like it had been doing for the past two days. everything felt like an out-of-body experience after the numbness she felt the first month she had got here.

she grabbed a teddy bear out of the box and tied it up to the ceiling. for some reason, she kept the nagging thing around; powder kept sweeping up the place, “tidying” it up to her liking.

why do you keep pushing everyone away?

“shut up.” powder didn’t have the patience for it.

why do you keep pushing everyone away? 

her grip tightened around the broomstick. “was me tying a noose around your neck not enough?”

why do you keep pushing everyone away? why do you keep pushing everyone away?  why do you keep pushing everyone away?  why do you keep pushing everyone away? why do you keep pushing everyone away? 

because you’re a jinx.

jinx reached to her hip to grab her gun to shoot the annoying bear. of course, there was no gun to pull out from a holster. there was no reason to have one in a place like this. old habits die hard.

because everyone who gets close to you dies. 

jinx.

dropping the broom, she turned on her heel and faced the teddy bear, “i’m not a jinx!” her shout seemed to snap her back to reality. it was quiet. so quiet that she was able to hear her own heavy breathing. “not… not anymore…” her eyes were fixed on the bear.

“i left all of that behind.” her raspy voice cracked, arguing with it. “it’s safe here, no danger!” she took strides to the annoyance, “no reason for someone around me to die this time!” she ripped the bear off of the noose, its head coming off.

so why do you keep pushing everyone away?

even with its head rolled on the floor it still tried to get its point across.

if she was right. if she believed everything she just said, why did she keep pushing people away? there’s no reason to be scared of losing someone; there’s no danger here.

jinx dropped the bear and turned around to get back to cleaning up. she crouched down to pick up the broom but her red-violet eyes caught something. a sticky note.

ONLY COSTS FIVE!

with a turtle drawn as a signature. she dropped her broom and dashed out of the shop.

powder wasn’t sure what the plan was, maybe there was no plan to begin with. she wanted to talk to you— to change her answer. she did want to be friends. she needed to get it off her chest because what if she waits too long and you don’t want to be friends anymore? what if you forget you even asked her? what if you didn't mean it?

she was on her way to find you at the bar (like you said for her to find you). on her way there she saw a bright light reflection of a bronze turtle necklace. she got cold feet.

odd.

very odd.

jinx never felt like this. why was telling someone you want to be friends so hard?

all of this leads to now, her stalking you, watching you from rooftops. it wasn’t her initial intention! she just panicked. it was night; it was the perfect time for stalking anyway. jinx followed you. the paths you took were odd. just where were you heading?

an alleyway. alleyways in flosnum were nothing like zaun; they were dimly lit, painted murals with vines, and flowers blooming from the cracked cement, making it their home.

two men walk up to you. “you know we don’t want to do this.” one of them says sympathetically. you didn’t seem surprised; it was like you were expecting them. 

“kiss my ass.” you bit back then a palm connected with your right cheek. 

oh.

this was not what powder was expecting.

a fight broke out. for a young woman, you sure were holding your ground against two muscled middle-aged men. you certainly weren’t the most skilled person jinx had seen fight, but you made the most of what you could with your frame. jinx debated on whether she should help you out or not. you were obviously going to lose, as of now, you had it in the bag. 

that was until one of them took hold of your hair behind you. the other man spit out the blood from his mouth onto the cement. “stop fighting back and just take the punishment.” he raised his fist and punched you in the stomach, knocking the wind out of you completely.

he winds up his fist again and you prepare yourself for the impact. 

you then saw a streak of pink. it shimmered. there was no longer a man; there was a woman, strands of blue and purple peeking out of the hood.

wait a minute… you looked down to see the man underneath her feet. did she just land on him? “what the fuck…” your eyes trail back up to the woman.

“yes, yes, give it up for your hero.” jinx spreads out her arms, waiting for applause. before you could say anything, she was already off the man and gone from your view. you no longer felt a tight grip on your hair and stumbled forward.

the man backed up “who the hell—“ jinx lashes out a well-aimed kick to the man’s head, his head collides with the alleyway wall and turns into a limp.

it was over so quickly. your arm still wrapped around your stomach. the woman’s hood falls, though you already had a good guess on who it was, her pink eyes fixated on you.

not knowing what to do, you speak up. “were you stalking me?” 

“seriously? no, thank you?”

“oh, of course, where are my manners? my knight in shining armor, thank you ever so much!” your words dripping with sarcasm a smirk gracing your lips.

“damn right, toots.” with her hands clasped behind her back she strolled toward you, her hips swaying with each stride. as she stopped directly in front of you her shimmering eyes darted around you nervously. “yes.”

confused at the simple word, you tilt your head, trying to make sense of it. her irises dilated.

“I want to be friends.” sparkling doe eyes met with yours briefly before darting away.

not knowing how to react, you spoke up, “did you come all this way to say that?” great working [name], you just ruined your chance of becoming friends with the cool blue-haired beauty.

seeing your mistake, you shook your head, recognizing how much of a poor choice of words that was. “shit, sorry.“ now she was leaning toward you she was close. so close. her face was just mere inches away from yours. “shut up and let me say this.”

yes ma’am.

getting out of your face, jinx tries to stand up straight. “i’m a handful— more than that. I just want you to know what you are getting yourself before…”

this was when you realized that powder wasn’t mysterious for the aesthetic. not because she was some attention seeker like some locals would say. not because she was a loser. powder had a past that genuinely haunted her. those eyes carried a lifetime of pain and the way her shoulders were slumped made her seem exhausted.

you didn’t know why she was she looked so drained. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to find out. despite her weary demeanor, she was still reaching out, still holding on, and you were willing to take her hand because if anything she it looked like she needed this more than you.

you wanted a cool friend. jinx needed a friend.

before jinx could continue speaking, you blurt out, “when do you want to hang out?” jinx wasn’t sure if she should smack you upside the head for interrupting her or if she should blow something up out of excitement… so she stared at you. fireworks seemed to pop behind her eyes.

“right now.” powder grabbed your hand in a swift motion, her grip firm yet fearful. the action causing you to pivot in the direction she was taking you. now running, she pulled you along with her. powder didn’t know where she was running, she just needed to get the jitters out of her with you at her side.

ignoring the fact your legs felt like jelly because of the recent fight you smile, “i still don’t know your name!” laughing into the breeze that rushes through your hair.

glancing back at you, jinx caught sight of your smile. as if the upturn of your lips were a virus, a smile tugged onto her lips. “i’ll tell you when i’m ready.” jinx’s words echoed behind them.

“alright, baby blue.”

TAGLIST: @millie2point0 @powderbomb-jinxed

i am open to ideas for my next chapter! the chapter is full of fluff of them getting to know each other. its structure is split into weeks. week one: blah blah blah. week two: blah blah blah. week three: blah blah blah.

[rogueddie]

Steve and Eddie laying on a roof, stargazing, when they spot a shooting star. Steve tells Eddie to make a wish, tacking on some soft mushy “I don’t need anything else”. Eddie being too distracted, making a wish, that he’s so taken aback by Steve making a move that he’s like “omg shooting star wishes really work”

[elordilover]

Hii! Could you write a walker scobell x actress reader fic where she's new to acting and her first acting role is in the pjo show? Thank you!!

i love this!! thanks so much for the request! 💐

more than best friends

pairing: walker scobell x fem!reader

summary: you are casted as annabeth for the pjo series and become best friends with your co-star, walker.

warnings: nothing really! not proof read, reader plays annabeth in the seires, half social media

————————————————————————

yourusername- i am so honored to finally tell you that am part of this project! this cast has become family. i’m so excited for everyone to watch it, meet you at camp half-blood: december 20th 🌩️⚡️🌊

walkerscobell- so honored to be able to work with you, and call you my best friend 💐♥️

percyjacksonseries- ⚡️⚡️⚡️

view more comments……..

—————

everyone on the cast just announced their spots in the series, it was your first time doing this so you were a bit nervous. you watched your phone as all the positive comments started to roll in.

you heard the door to your trailer open and saw a familiar face, walker. you would never admit this to anyone, but you did sort of have a crush on him. but you had to put the admiration to the side now that he was your co-star.

“Y/N, do you want to go grab food since we’re done shooting for the day?”, he asked you.

“sure! where are we going?”, you replied as you got up and started exiting your trailer.

“i don’t know, in-n-out?”

“yeah, sure”, you said as you walked to the car.

the whole car ride was filled with scream-singing to one direction songs, it was amazing. the light that shined through his hair made you admire him even more. how the sunshine made his eyes sparkle. the way his smile grew when you were both singing along to the music that shaped both of your childhoods. you had always dreamed of nights like this, now they became your reality. your only wish was that he would see you as more than a friend.

—————

the next day you arrived to set early and we r straight to the hair and makeup trailer, which was were walker was also. you couldn’t wait to see him.

“hey Y/N, how are you?” walker asked as you walked through the door.

“i’m good, a little tired tho, how about you?” you replied.

“i’m good!”, he said.

you two fell into easy conversation while getting makeup done, or getting your hair fixed. it was always easy with him, you always felt safe and at home while you were with walker. it was just something about him.

—————

“action!”, you heard and immediately started to act out your scene with walker. it was going to be in the finale episode, where you place your necklace around his neck. it was supposed to be a little romantic, but it shouldn’t have affected you this much.

walker’s deep blue eyes stared you down, your cheeks immediately turned a deep shade of red. it was embarrassing, everyone on set would notice your admiration toward walker.

walker started laughing, most likely from your eye contact. almost every scene you guys shot together ended up like this, you and walker would burst out laughing. almost every scene had to be reshot many many times.

you shot the scene again and again until it was perfect. your cheeks still burning many minutes after.

—————

after many long hours of shooting, walker entered into your trailer to hang out with you. it had become a nightly ritual for you guys. you would lay on your couch and scroll on tiktok, showing each other the funniest ones.

after minutes of scrolling walker tilted his phone toward you. you noticed the tiktok featured you and walker. it was an edit shipping you two. it used clips from different moments from the press tour, and red carpet events.

“i mean… it’s a good edit”, you said nervously. you secretly loved seeing tiktok’s like these.

“yeah i agree, it’s one of the better ones i’ve seen. we look pretty good together, we make a great team”, walker replied not knowing how that last sentence would effect you.

“we sure do”, you agreed as both you and walker’s cheeks turned red.

—————

the other members of the cast had noticed how close you and walker had gotten, when you weren’t together, you guys were texting, and if you weren’t texting, you were probably asleep. aryan had brought it up to you last week, he said how everyone saw how you guys looked at each other, and how you were both always blushing when you had scenes together. you didn’t believe him though.

—————

filming had come to an end and you were definitely going to miss your new best friends, especially walker. you two had agreed to call and text as much as you could till you could be back together for the press tour.

—————

yourusername- filming this show was the best experience of my life, thank you to everyone who was involved in creating this amazing series. love you all ♥️

the first two episodes are out now! 🌩️⚡️🌊

walkerscobell- SO EXCITED‼️‼️‼️

percyjacksonseries- oh my god

walkerfan- Y/N’s feeding us with this bts content

Y/Nfan- it’s sooooooo good

walkerscobell- first two episodes. out now. 🌩️🌊

i love everyone on this cast so much, they have become my family, so so so thankful for everyone who got me here

yourusername- GO BEST FRIEND ‼️‼️‼️

percyjacksonseries- watching rn.

walkerfan13- PERCYBETH 😭😭😭

Y/Nfan- Y/N X WALKER CONTENT 🎉

—————

after the cast party, you decided to go over to walker’s place before your parents came and got you.

“hey Y/N, i kind of wanted to tell you something”, walker said nervously, “ever since i first met you you’ve inspired me so much and i just wanted to say that i really like you, in more than a friend way”, he rambled out.

you thought you were dreaming, no way he just said that. you stared at him for a second before kissing him, it was just a simple peck but you hope it got your point across.

“wait, you like me too?”

“of course, of course i do” you replied, noticing how red walker’s cheeks were.

he leaned in and gave you another kiss, you couldn’t believe this was real life.

—————

after a couple of months, many interviews, many nights on facetime, many ship edits being sent to each other, many days of secretly dating. you both decided to make your relationship public.

yourusername- my mom approves

comments on this post have been limited…..

walkerscobell- percybeth irl

comments on this post have been limited……

————————————————————————

thanks for reading, please send feedback and more requests!

🎀🧡🐞🫀⭐️🥥🫶🏻🐝🪻🪩🌎🪷🥿🫧🫐🧿🪞

[rowretro]

SHE'S MEANT TO BE MINE

♡Warnings: angst, kissing, death, violent description with blood, royalty au, yandere riki, desi reader (or any race uw but she;s described as a desi girlie in the historical part), ponniyin selvan inspo. (I'll make a sunghoon ver which will be more suggestive)

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

That face... that hair... that girl... she's all too familliar. It's her. she's reborn in the modern times. Riki was over the moon to see his darling still alive. Except there's one problem... She doesn't know him... she doesn't know what they had all those years ago. The woman bound to be her princess, the woman who died for their love, now reborn without a scratch on her...

The sound of anklets echoed through the empty greenery of the forest. The prince was drawn to this beautiful woman, he'd do anything to see her smile, to hold her in his arms as they sit under the moon talking about random things, he'd give anything just to kiss her. Him a vampire prince, had fallen for this orphaned, human girl. He watched as she danced oh so elegantly among other girls, her long black hair in a braid with a few baby hairs shielding her forehead.

How she carefully threaded the flowers for the sage when he had a pooja to do in the morning where many humans would come and share their concerns as they wish to be blessed. She was beautiful, and that little black pottu on her forehead just added to her beauty. She wasn't one who wore much jewelry, or expensive clothing, given she couldn't afford such luxury, but she looked luxorious with even the white, basic saree (yk like sara wore in ponniyin selvan).

It wasn't easy trying to convince her to fall for him, but she did. How couldn't she? a man so pure at heart, he was only a few months older and that lovestruck look in his eyes had her falling. "I don't like this..." she said, clearly feeling uncomfortable. "Just hold my hand where I'm holding it and pull back with me" he instructed. Hesitant, she did as told, now in his embrace as he helped her aim the arrow at the poor deer.

"Now let go with me" he instructed. She closed her eyes, and did as told. The deer stood in it's place unharmed, the arrow shooting up at the sky instead. She smiled turning to him, seeing he aimed elsewhere. "Even if the arrow and bow are always put together, they can never live together" he said placing a soft loving kiss on her forehead "So never worry when His majesty tries to marry me off... it'll never work. I'm reserved for you, it's been carved in the strongest of all rocks." he said reassuringly as she stared up at him.

"Are you sure I'm not holding you back?... you're a prince after all... what am I but a commoner... an orphan?... everyone will be against us being together... not even my parents wanted me..." she trailed off as he just hugged her. "Don't ever think that... you're the one for me, and my love is enough for you ok?" he reassured as she nodded. That very day, the sage spotted her on the white horse, the prince behind her smilling.

He caught the fruit that had fallen from the tree that he struck his arrow at. "It's perfectly ripe, let's have it" he said giddily, as Y/n opened it for them to share. "Do you... want a taste of what our future would be like?" he asked as she wonderred "why not" she shrugged, as he helped her up on the horse, the 2 riding in public, as the others gossipped and chatterred. Riki watched as she closed her eyes, looking down at the many people who were talking bad about her, and up at the sky that felt within reach. "You could grab the stars at night, how amazing would it be?" he asked as she chuckled, leaning her head into his welcoming chest, as he rested his chin on her head

That's when all went downhill... The sage catching the lovebirds. Since then she had been kicked out, pushed around and hurt by the public, The king ordering her to leave for good. The prince screamed her name, running around like a madman until he could find her. There she laid, her soft skin now violently pierced with a sword, the metal that reached all the way through coated red, her soft white saree now stained with her blood. Riki screamed with agony, cradling her cold body.

. . .

He held the anklets, that are still as clean and silver as they were many years ago, the rock with their names carved in it remained. Even her name was Y/n. Quite different from the last time he saw her. He's a vampire, so he still looked the same, though he no longer had a mullet. Y/n had her black hair reaching slightly under her shoulders, layered, her nails sparkly. Though he noticed how she'd mostly wear white, and always wear a different bindi every now and then. She was beautiful, absolutely breath taking as the last time he saw her.

So he had to keep her. Y/n fell so easily into his trap, believing it was just luck, a handsome man around her age, attending the same Uni as her, before she knew it she moved in with him, in his rather old-timey large palace, he wore the vintage looking anklets he gave her as a valentine's day gift. He was just too sweet. She felt so comfortable and safe in his arms, as they sat under the moonlight on his balcony. "This high up, you can grab one of the stars if you wanted to" he'd say, earning an oh so familiar chuckle from her.

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

A/n: I have a feeling im going to receive backlash for this ff but idk why yet-

not my best work but I hope u like it<3

[asunflowerana]

a good kind of nuinsance — Suna Rintarou

summary: you have a big project coming up, and to make things even worse, you're forced to work with the most stupid, handsome moron on campus.

genre: comedy, enemies-to-lovers trope.

n/a: not me pretending i'm the best friend haha. also, good reading!

“It will be fine!” She said. “It could be worse, trust me. And it will end soon!”

You wish you could stop believing in your best friend.

College is already a nerve-wracking place to deal with it, increasing even more in junior year. You need to work on your assignments, do presentations, fight yourself everyday to not procrastinate 24/7 or call off sick ‘cause your bed is too appealing; and in the end, you always freak out with your final exams, coffee becoming your best friend and clock your worst enemy.

What you don’t understand though, is why, in such a chaotic atmosphere, you still need to do group work?

And why, of all the people on this big campus, you got paired up with Suna Rintarou?

The struggle is real.

It’s not that you hate him. No, that’s not the case at all. It’s just that spotting his face alone is enough to make you want to change sidewalks even if the traffic signal is green and Formula 1 is happening on the street.

It all started with a single bump on the cafeteria entrance. His unnecessary hard body bumped against you and your hot chocolate cup, making all of your precious drink spill and fall into your previous white All Stars sneakers, staining the fabric and burning your skin to the soul.

And that boy had the nerve to mumble a “Watch where you’re going” before giving you a cold shoulder and leaving in a hurry.

Tables turned and you had your redemption one day later, refusing to lend him your notes of an important assignment, useful for the upcoming exams. It’s not your fault that his bicycle tire got pierced on the way to class, he should have been prepared and woken up early like every poor student in this college.

This “not so pleasant but still fulfilling” war has been going on between you guys for weeks. But unfortunately, his presence became more than a nuisance to you, and you absolutely detest now the way your heart flutters when you see that punk walking on the hall with that stupid, pretty face.

Annoying, handsome, punk.

And since your “so called” best friend knows about your hidden feelings, she decided to come up with a stupid solution for it.

You, her, Suna and Bokuto Koutaro, her adorable but very much ingenuous boyfriend, were supposed to do the group project together at a cozy cafeteria a few blocks from the campus main building, known for their delicious milkshakes and pretzels.

Nowhere to escape, you accept the invite, hoping your friend could take your mind away from Suna’s intruding. That, until Bokuto shouts:

“Shoot, I forgot there was practice today!” So exaggerated, he totally has no vocation to be an actor.

And your bestie had the audacity to join the act, forcing out a grimace. “Sorry guys, but we need to go.” She announces, not sorry at all, Bokuto taking her backpack with him like the doting boyfriend he is. “Please enjoy our milkshakes, we’ll text you later to see what you guys decided!”

“Good dat— I mean…. Bye!” Bokuto takes her hand and storms away from the cafeteria.

You can only sigh, disappointed at yourself for not predicting this might happen.

“Did they really leave us?” Suna asks incredulously, noticing the filled notebooks the couple left on the table. “They even made their parts already!”

You turn your gaze to him, feeling the beginning of a migraine.“Look, I’m not thrilled to work with you either. But the faster we start, the faster we’ll get rid of each other.” You proposed with little patience, taking a sip of your friend’s untouched strawberry milkshake. “Now, take that milkshake and let’s finish this quick.”

He huffs, but your surprise doesn't fight with you on this, and you both start a two-hours circle of working in silence, bickering at each other and working in silence again, making small progress with your parts on the project. You even start to agree with each other, Suna finding your suggestions “smarter than expected”, and you finding his ideas “not so bad for a moron”.

It’s strange, the feeling of being in agreement with Hajime on something, and it's noticeable his efforts of making the process as peaceful as it can be. This friendlier side looks actually cute on him (not that you were checking him out for the past thirty minutes), so you decide to be nice too, for the sake of good grades.

It only lasts a few minutes, and soon you’re arguing again.

“The information needs to be in Z. No one will pay attention if you fill the poster with notes all over it!” He argues one more time, trying to prove his point about the best position to the notes.

“But we need to put all the information we gathered! If we do it your way, we’ll need three more posters , and that's a waste of paper!” You defend your point as well, not wanting to back down from your proposition to the project’s presentation. 

“Well, if you want to really save paper, then you should stop wanting to put everything we wrote down inside a poster, when we don’t have to!”

“We do, if we want good grades in this class. Oh wait, I forgot, you don’t really know what it's like.!”

You’re both staring at each other dangerously, breath heavy and quick, like two bulls ready to strike each other. Thank goodness you’re in a distant booth, or you guys would probably be kicked out by now for the shouting.

Suna runs his hand over his black locks, tired of this unfinished argument. “You’re too annoying , you know that?” He hisses. 

“And you’re so stubborn, argh, I can’t stand you in my head anymore!” You almost shout out your frustration, letting slip the last words by accident, but lucky for you Suna’s too angry to catch what did you mean.

“Well, I wish you could leave mine too, but you’re still there every day!”

You’re shocked. Your heart’s pace fastens and your body suddenly feels numb, completely bewildered by his confession. Suna avoids eye-contact for a few seconds, staring at the table with a terrified look, his face reddening as the seconds go by. Why did he say that to you?

“I—” He clears his throat, trying to come up with a quick excuse to cover his mistake.“ I didn't—”

“What?” But you don’t leave room for excuses. “You didn’t mean you like me?”

His eyes widens. “No! I…. I….” He sighs. “ I didn’t mean to say it like that! But if you really want to know… yes. I like you. " He moves his eyes in your direction, taking your features for a moment. "Even if you get on my nerves every single day, I can’t get you out of my head. And I know we’re not on the best terms, but I can’t just pretend anymore…” He doesn’t need to finish his line. You’re just so overwhelmed with his confession, that staying a few moments in silence makes Rintarou take that as a rejection.

“I should go.” He begins to rise from his chair, but his movements are interrupted as you quickly hold one of his wrists, preventing him from moving away. He looks at you surprised.

“Would you find it strange if I said that I can’t pretend anymore either?” You can’t say the right words aloud yet, timid of what he might do with your confession, but the growing, pretty and genuine smirk on his face tells you made a good decision by opening yourself to him.

“I guess I own you a hot chocolate, then?”

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[starmocha]

You were being irrational. You knew you were being irrational. You didn’t care.

As you were stomping away in your heels, Sylus easily followed after you, his long legs kept the distance closed no matter how fast you struggled to walk away from him.

You heard him chuckling at you from behind. You huffed, annoyed and embarrassed, and walked faster. Sylus continued at his leisure pace, effortlessly keeping a close distance to you. You glowered some more when he started humming a carefree tune.

After a few more minutes of this futile and silly attempt to escape him, you eventually gave up and just stood in your spot, arms crossed, glaring at nothing in particular and pretending he was not behind you even though his imposing height and presence was nigh impossible to ignore.

“Sweetie, stop pouting,” Sylus said, walking around to face you. He leaned down to your height with a smile, amused that you still refused to look him in the eyes after his earlier casual confession when he yanked your second glass of wine away inside the banquet hall. His eyes drifted to the dark night sky above you, laughing softly, “There's literally a sky of shooting stars right now.”

“I can't believe you said you would feed me to Mephisto.”

“You were drunk.”

“How dare you.”

“You called me Mr. Big Ca-Cawk.”

“Sylus, look, there's a sky of shooting stars right now,” you said, feigning astonishment and looking away from him.

Sylus rubbed his forehead and muttered to himself, half-exasperated and half-amused, “This girl...”

“Aren't you going to make a wish?” You asked sweetly, hoping he would forget your earlier sour attitude. You batted your eyelashes prettily at him, giving him the sweetest smile you could muster to distract him from the fact that earlier you had allowed yourself to be irrationally upset by a hypothetical drunken question you quite frankly didn’t even remember asking.

He laughed low. He could see through your feeble charade clearly, but he humored you, giving you a devilish smirk. Sylus reached out to pull you by your waist, bringing you closer to him. His sudden action made your heart skipped a beat, and a startled gasp left your lips in spite of yourself. At this point, you couldn’t even remember why you allowed yourself to be annoyed by him, or perhaps, you were never actually angry at him. You were just embarrassed by your own previous drunken behavior. It was silly, you knew it, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

You truly felt childish, but Sylus didn’t seem to see it that way, or if he did, he didn’t care at all. His long finger glided down your pinked cheeks, reaching your chin and lightly tipping it up so you could meet his calm gaze.

The night air was cool, but it did nothing to alleviate the rising heat between the two of you. You were acutely aware of his body heat, feeling a warmth in your cheeks as well. You didn’t know if you were blushing because of your embarrassing attitude tonight, or just maybe, you believed, it was because of the man in front of you, looking at you with absolute adoration in his eyes, still able to find you endearing even when you behaved horribly.

The longer he gazed at you, the faster your heart beat.

He smirked. You lowered your sight.

Sylus leaned down, dropping a chaste kiss on your forehead and luring out your first smile of the night. His voice was soft, his words sincere: "Sweetheart, all of my wishes have already come true."

— even if the stars fall down, aka the follow-up to would you still love me if i was a worm? (and other thought-provoking questions) that no one asked for lmao but I am incapable of just having simple fun in Glint Photobooth. I need backstories.

[nina-ya]

Law Helping You Relax

Pairing: Law x Reader CW: None WC: ~750 A/N: gasp 2 posts in one day?? Who am I??? LMAO anyways I've been drowning in work lately and I just want Law to pull me away and help me relax sooooo thats where this came from :) Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

“You look like you can use a breather,” Law’s voice breaks your focus as you feel calloused hands gliding over your shoulders. Despite the disruption, you persist, continuing the work you’ve been immersed in for hours now. 

The raven-haired man sighs audibly, shifting behind you. He leans down, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he insists, “That’s not a suggestion. You need a break.” One of his hands clasps yours, halting your work, while the other hand starts massaging your shoulder, easing the tension that has built up over the hours. 

Succumbing to the allure of relaxation, you sigh in contentment. “Since when are you one to advocate for a break? I always see you working nonstop.” You ask, locking eyes with him.

“Do as I say, not as I do.” Law retorts, voice laced with a playful undertone. 

“Fine, but only for 5 minutes,” you concede, allowing the sensation of relaxation to envelop you completely. 

Law continues the motion of massaging your shoulder, the tension relieving with each touch of his. He then pauses somewhat abruptly, as if struck with an idea. Without warning, he firmly grasps your arm and hoists you up from where you were sitting.

“Huh? What are you–” Your protest was cut off as he began to pull you out of the room. “Wait, but I’m not done yet,” you continue, lightly resisting his pull.

“Last time I checked, I still have 3 minutes of your time, so come on,” he retorts, a determination evident in his voice as he guides you onto the deck of the submarine. He leads you towards the railings before sitting down. He taps the spot next to him, silently urging you to join him.

You hesitate for a moment before complying, sitting down next to him. He immediately pulls you into his side, his warmth enveloping you. 

As if he can sense your thoughts, he speaks up, his voice low. “You needed a change of scenery. You’ve been cooped up in there all day. I bet you didn’t even know it was nighttime until I dragged you out here.”

"I’m not ignorant, I knew that it’s night. It’s not even that late anyways, it’s barely 11” you retort, trying to assert your awareness. 

An amused smirk tugs at the corner of Law’s lips. “3,’ he stated simply.

“What?” you ask, puzzled by his ambiguousness. 

“It’s 3am. You’re about four hours off,” he clarified, amusement evident in his tone. 

You sit in stunned silence for a moment, the realization sinking in that Law is right. You indeed have lost track of time and now you are suffering the consequences. Your earlier declaration of just a five-minute break has faded into the background, as exhaustion creeps up on you. Law seems to take your silence as some sort of victory, leaning his head back against the railing as he gazes up at the star-studded sky above. 

Dots of light freckle the region above, a beautiful and somewhat uncommon sight to behold out at sea since the submarine is usually submerged underwater. You follow Law’s gaze, taking in the breathtaking sight before you. As if on cue, a shooting star streaks across the sky.

“Make a wish,” you mutter softly, feeling the weight of the exhaustion settle upon you. “I don’t know about you, but I wish I could just finish this work already,” you continue with a deep sigh. 

“I’m pretty sure your wishes don’t come true if you say them out loud,” Law remarks, his eyes still fixed on the twinkling heavens above.

“Since when do you believe in that stuff?” you ask, curiosity coloring your tone.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “It comes and goes,” he replies cryptically, as if he is lost in thought. 

You can’t help but roll your eyes with a soft chuckle at Law’s comment, finding his puzzling statement amusing, Snuggling closer into his side, you welcome the comfort and warmth he provides. A gentle breeze dances across your skin, prompting you to instinctively try and seek warmth in Law’s embrace. 

Law notices this, and he reaches out, opening his captain’s coat to drape it over you. Pulling you even closer, he envelops you in a newfound warmth. What had started as a five-minute break has morphed into a much needed respite. As you nestle against him, your breathing gradually slows, the rhythmic rocking of the ship beneath you lulling you into a sense of calmness. Sleep soon embraces you, Law’s arms holding you throughout the night, helping you escape in the dream world before facing what the next day might hold.

[butchersboobs]

If You Can't Get Over, Get Under

A Billy Butcher POV fic

It's been eight months since you and Billy split up, but now he's got you right back where you belong...

NSFW under the cut - over 18s only, MDNI

-----

I rub me cock up ‘n down yer cunt - wanna get me dick nice 'n wet before I stick it in - 'n tap atcha clit for a bit. Always drove ya wild, that. 

Ya practically beggin’ f'me t'get inside ya. Fuckin’ soaked, you are. Gapin’. Part o'me wants to keep ya waitin’, keep teasin’, but I can't wait no more.

I line meself up and push inside, n'yer so fuckin’ ready f’me, I just sink all the way in. An’ I ain't ever felt anyfin like it in me life. M'gonna love ploughin’ in t'this. Always fuckin’ did.

“Fuck I've missed this cunt - fuuuck me” I some'ow manage t'gasp out. 

Wish I'd kept me bloody gob shut though, cos the way you clench round me, ‘n the look on yer face as soon as I say it - well, it almost makes me shoot me load instantly. 

I bite me lip, breave, try t’concentrate. Steady meself. I wanna take me time, enjoy gettin’ reacquainted wiv the best cunt I've ever ‘ad the pleasure o'fuckin’. Wanna make sure you enjoy it - need to ‘ear more o'them filfy sounds ya used to make just f’me. 

An’ as if on cue - yer begging me again. “Please… please Billy. I need you to fuck me!” you moan. 

Alright love. Don'ave to tell me twice.

So I start fuckin’ in t'ya. Slow, but firm. I lean down ‘n kiss ya, rough, me tongue playin’ round wiv yours. Fuck, I've missed this. Missed you.

You start tugging at me ‘air, tellin’ me ya wannit faster. So fuckin’ faster I go.

Yer really gettin’ into it now - takin’ me ‘ammerin away in ya so well. Thassit, my dirty li’le bitch.

This is nice ‘nd all, but it ain't quite enough no more. I need to get proper deep, really feel ya. So I pull out, ‘n drag ya down the bed a bit.

I push yer legs up t'wards yer chest, an' 'ave a cheeky li'le suck on yer tits while I'm at it. I can’t ‘elp but smirk atcha - writhin’ ‘n whinin’ under me like yer about ready t'squirt.

I spread yer legs open wider, and get stuck straight back in. 

Yeah. Yeah.

That's better.

Can get much deeper at this angle. An’ if memory serves, I should be strokin’ right against ya sweet spot now. Yep. There you go, swee'eart - screamin’ every swearword under the bloody sun, flutterin’ away, tryna milk me cock. But I ain't done yet. 

I pick up the pace some more - proper goin’ t’town now. Every little bump ‘n ridge in this perfect li'le hot 'n drippin’ cunt o'yours feels tailor made for my cock. Fuckin'ell, we may’ve fucked everyfin else up, but we’re bloody good at this. 

The sound o'yer pussy squelchin’ 'nd our skin slappin’ togevver spurs me on. I go even ‘arder on ya - I know ya can take it. Faster still. Deeper. And when you start comin’ - the fuckin’ noises I'm pullin outcha would put a bleedin’ porn star t'shame, love. I fuckin’ love it. Nuffin more beautiful on this earf than you comin’.

The rhythmic pulses your cunt's givin’ me right now leave me no choice. Game over. I've lost all control - hips pistonin' in t'ya wiv a mind o'their own. I couldn't stop thrustin’ now even if I wanted to. Me breavin's all over the shop. Fuck.

Ya feel so fuckin’ good, love. So fuckin’ good.

Ohh fuuuuckin'ell.

I thrust in t'ya so ‘ard, I think I might break ya. I can't ‘elp it. I swear that's yer cervix I can feel. It's like some invisible force 'olds me still right there, as deep as I can get - and I come that ‘ard, me ‘ole body's shakin’. I pull back and thrust again, fillin’ ya up some more. Spurt after spurt. Me vision goes for a sec. Christ. 

Fuck me.

I fuckin’ swear t'God - I've never come so ‘ard in me fuckin’ life.

I sink down on top o'ya, breathin’ so ‘eavy you'd fink I'd just run a fuckin’ marathon. You look a right fucked-out mess. Absolutely perfect.

I keep kissin' all over ya neck, all gentle like - tell ya you're a good gell, takin’ a right batterin' from me cock like that.

I roll off, knackered, but pull ya in for a cuddle. “Alright love?” I ask. “Yeah” is all y’can manage, poor fing. “Ya need anyfin? Water? Wash cloff? A fuckin’ ambulance?”.

You laugh.

An’ I know in that moment, I ain't never lettin’ you go again.

-----

Tags: @d3m0ncrybaby @dumpy-little-nobody @bluemerakis @karlurbanism @enchantedflameandflower @jax-the-oregonian @bobabilbil @frank3nfag @bohemianblasphemy @bluecalypso24 @galaxyshifting @jynx15 @lloquent @noonwardmoss @rustanddusted @scrmqwn @scxrchedearf