#yeah no i really don’t know what’s going on
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rafey-baby · 3 days ago
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older!rafe and sensitive!reader spending the holidays together
18+ mdni! 
c/w: fluff, her ovulating and being horny, smut: p-in-v, slight breeding kink, use of dad
wc: 1.5k
ugh i’ve missed this man
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“Why is he doin’ that shit?”  
“Rafe, it’s a rom-com,” she reasons, practically glued to him on their couch with the way she keeps shifting closer and closer, almost unconsciously at this point.   
“Yeah, a shitty one. Why was it necessary to do a whole fuckin’ speech at the mall? He couldn’t jus’ I dunno, tell her how he felt?” he scoffs, clearly fed up with the entire film already. 
She can’t stop the bubbly laughter from escaping her when she looks over to his scowling face. “I mean, this is actually getting kinda weird…why’s everyone watching them?” 
“Yeah, ‘n why are they still on that fuckin’ stage?” he grumbles while the couple is now fully making out on the TV screen. 
“Please don’t ever do anything like that to me.”
“Yeah, was actually gonna ask, you, uh, you wanna go shoppin’ tomorrow?” 
“No!” she giggles before taking a sip of the hot chocolate she’d made for herself (because Rafe deliberately told her he didn’t want any) but the minute she’d sat down with the mug in hand, he’d wanted to try it, which ended up with him drinking nearly half of it.  
“Oh shit, forgot to give you this earlier, look what I got you today,” he suddenly murmurs. 
“Hm?” her eyes flit over to his face; momentarily distracted by his pretty features as he searches for something from the back pocket of his pants. Then, he’s pulling a golden necklace from a velvety box.    
“That looks really expensive,” she nervously mumbles, pausing the TV in order to concentrate on the heart-shaped locket he’s holding out to her.   
“You deserve the fuckin’ world, it was nothin’ alright? Can think of it as an early Christmas present if it makes you feel better,” he rolls his eyes, almost exasperated that she still can’t seem to comprehend the fact that he enjoys spending his money on her.    
“It’s so beautiful,” she croons as she inspects the piece of jewelry with careful fingertips, heart swelling in her chest at the sentiment— recalling how she’d mentioned something about thinking pendants like these were adorable maybe once.    
“Yeah? You like it?”    
“I love it. Wait, you had your initials carved into it too? That’s so cute, Ray, what the hell?” she feels her eyes grow watery because her boyfriend really is her favorite person in the whole wide world for a reason.    
“Yeah, know you’re into sappy shit like that, ‘n you can put m’picture inside too ‘n you’ll always have me with you or whatever the fuck.”    
“Shut up, you’re so sweet! I love you,” she exclaims before she’s wrapping her arms around his neck— climbing into his lap in the process while he murmurs into her hair how he apparently ‘loves her more’, which she thinks is not possible.    
“Let me put it on you?” he says before he’s swiping away some strands in order to clasp the locket around her neck. “Look so pretty with m’name on you.”
“Wait, you should have my name on you too,” she jokingly utters out next.  
“Been thinkin’ about gettin’ it tattooed actually,” he admits, completely serious, which makes her face scrunch up.  
“You’re not getting my name tattooed on you— you’re crazy,” she softly hits his chest. However, he can barely even feel it because she really doesn’t have a single violent bone in her body.   
“Yeah, crazy ‘bout you,” he grins, eliciting an airy giggle from her.    
Knowing she’s about to complain about him being weird again, he shuts her up with a press of his mouth against hers— a surprised noise leaving her when she’s momentarily taken aback by the sudden cushion of his lips. 
And it’s sloppy, the way they slot together like puzzle pieces when she opens up for him, but both of them prefer it that way. 
His kiss was meant to be something sweet but soon enough she’s rutting against him— whimpering into his mouth as if it’s been years since the last time they did this. And all too soon for her liking, he’s pulling away.
“Somethin’ you want?”  
“…no,” she lies through her teeth.    
“No? Jus’ uh, humpin’ me like a bitch in heat for no reason then, hm?” he raises his brows; eyes fixed on her frustrated features.    
“Ray...” she huffs out; a frown already forming on her spit-slicked lips.    
“Yeah?” he asks, giving her a soft peck as encouragement.    
“Want you…” she pants against his mouth.    
“But m’right here?” the furrow of his brows displays faux confusion.  
“You know what I mean,” she whines; shifting around in his lap some more.    
“M’afraid I don’t. If there’s somethin’ you want, you gonna have to tell me,” the edge of his mouth curls annoyingly when he decides to toy with her, always finding so much entertainment from her struggle.     
However, she merely grants him another whine.   
“Wha’s up with you today, hm? So fuckin’ needy, actin’ like you haven’t been fucked in a month when you were literally cryin’ on m’cock last night?” he murmurs while thumbing at her pouty bottom lip.   
“I don’t know…jus’ need you so bad,” her eyes begin to gloss over when he’s still not giving her what she so desperately craves.    
“Baby, there’s no need to cry, yeah?” he sticks his thumb past her lips; an attempt to placate her, even if he thinks she never looks prettier than with her eyes all wet and forlorn.   
“You’re ovulatin’ right now, aren’t ya?” his brain finally fits together the very telltale signs as he plucks his phone from the coffee table— opening the app that tracks her period cycle.  
“Think so, yeah,” she mumbles, mindlessly sucking on the digit resting on her tongue as she sniffles.  
It’s no surprise to either of them when his assumption proves to be right.    
“Think you need me to fuck a baby in you, s’that it? Wanna make me a real daddy?” he croons.    
“Mhm…want you,” her words are muffled around his thumb.    
“I know, sweetheart. Don’t want anyone but you carryin’ m’kids— think about knockin’ you up so fuckin’ often, you know?”    
“You do?”    
“Yeah, know you’d be such a good mom.”    
“You think? I think you’d be the best dad, sometimes wish you were my dad,” she rambles mindlessly, the conversation suddenly teetering on the edge of something else entirely.    
“Shit, such an angel face ‘n then there’s this rotten mind inside, huh?” he tuts in disapproval, appearing disgusted as if he doesn’t get even harder in response to her words— something raw, primitive stirring in the pit of his stomach whenever she says things like that.    
“M’sorry dad,” she offers him an impish smile.  
“Someone’s in a mood today?” he chuckles, narrowing his eyes in a playful manner.    
“Can you take off your pants?” she complains while attempting to loosen his belt but with her mind buzzing like a honeybee it’s proving to be a rather demanding.   
“Can’t do anythin’ without dad’s help, can you? Go on, let’s see if you can take me out by yourself, yeah?” he rasps out, tone challenging.    
“No, need your help, daddy, I can’t—”  
“Shit, you’re fuckin’ pathetic,” he murmurs, somehow managing to turn something so patronizing into something affectionate as he swats away her helpless hands and yanks the belt open himself.    
“See? Not that fuckin’ hard, was it?” he mutters out as his thumb slips out of her mouth before he’s pulling himself out. And even if he’s not even fully hard yet, and she’s seen it more times than she can count, she’s still mesmerized by the sight— eyes rounding out while she simply stares as if she’s under some spell.    
“You’re so pretty,” she blinks at him, eyes moony.    
“Still not tired of seein’ it, huh?”   
She shakes her head.   
And since she’s not wearing any pants (as usual), he only has to tug the fabric of her underwear to the side in order to reveal her messy cunt.    
“Ray…” she whines when he merely smears the drippy head over her folds; thudding it against her clit to get her to whimper some more.  
“Hm? Want it inside? Wha’s the magic word?” he looks at her with something amused twinkling in his eyes.   
“Please. Dad, it hurts,” she sniffles, desperately trying to rub against him in an attempt to alleviate the ache.    
“Hurts? Think you bein’ a little dramatic, no?” he lets out a breathy chuckle, making her huff out in frustration.   
“M’not, Ray, please, need you so bad,” wet droplets stain her cheeks while she tries to uselessly blink them away.    
“Shh, s’okay. Dad’s bein’ mean again, isn’t he? M’sorry, baby, I’ll give you what you want, yeah?” his voice is a deep rumble before he’s finally tucking the tip into her weepy cunt, causing both of them to moan in tandem when she practically sucks him in— his fingerprints denting the skin of her thighs when he aids her movements to his liking.   
“Yeah? That what you wanted? Always such a tight fuckin’ fit, huh?” he grunts against her mouth; hips meeting hers halfway as he stuffs himself deeper.  
“Mm, I love you,” she whimpers— practically feeling him in her guts as his cock pokes at the spongy spot inside her while his big hands help situate her on top of him, and she thinks this might just be heaven on earth.
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jungwnies · 2 days ago
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wreckage - charles leclerc
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୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a heated argument with charles, you watch in horror as his car crashes during a race
୨ৎ : genre : angst ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1318
part one | part two | part three | part four
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They say life can change in the blink of an eye. One second, everything feels steady, solid, like the ground beneath your feet couldn’t possibly give way. And then it does. Maybe that’s the irony of it all—you never see it coming. Not really. You think you’re prepared, think you’ve braced yourself, but you’re never quite ready for the moment it all falls apart.
You fought this morning. Not just a little spat about something trivial—no, this was one of those fights that echoed louder than it should have. The kind that lingered, thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even hours later.
It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, either, but somehow, with Charles, the small things had a way of snowballing. His schedule. Your schedule. The time you didn’t have together. The things he didn’t say and the things you did.
“I’m trying, okay? You think it’s easy for me?” he’d snapped, his accent sharpening the edges of his words. “You know what this life is like.”
“Yeah, Charles, I do. But I also know you don’t get to use it as an excuse every single time something gets hard. I’m here, too, and I’m trying to make this work just as much as you are.”
His jaw had tightened, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”
You’d felt the sting of those words, like a slap across the face. But you weren’t one to back down, not even when the weight of his frustration pressed heavy on your chest.
“You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’m the one waiting, worrying, wondering if this is ever going to feel… stable. Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s never really here?”
The silence that followed was deafening, his features a mix of hurt and anger, like he didn’t know which to lean into more. And then he’d said it.
“Maybe it’s hard because you don’t trust me enough to believe that I’m doing my best.”
You hadn’t answered, and maybe that was the problem. The fight ended there, not because either of you wanted it to but because there was no time to fix it. Not when he had a race to prepare for, and you had to pretend like none of this was tearing you apart from the inside out.
When you arrived at the paddock, it felt impossible to mask the weight of the argument. You greeted a few people with forced smiles, but you could see some of them watching you a little too closely. It didn’t help that Charles seemed just as tense, his jaw set and his usual ease nowhere to be found.
Carlos was the first to pull you aside, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. “¿Qué pasa, eh? You look like someone stole your churros, and Charles… well, he looks worse. What happened?”
“Nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”
Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Amiga, por favor. I know you, and I know him. Whatever this is, it’s not nothing.”
You sighed, glancing over your shoulder where Charles was talking to his engineers. “We just… had a fight this morning. It’s not a big deal.”
Carlos gave you a skeptical look. “Not a big deal? You’re both walking around like someone cancelled Christmas. If you’re not okay, neither is he. You should talk to him before the race.”
You hesitated, the memory of this morning’s argument still fresh in your mind. “I don’t want to distract him. He needs to focus.”
Carlos clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “Tch. If you think he’s focusing now, you’re wrong. You being upset is a bigger distraction than anything else. Go.”
Reluctantly, you nodded and made your way toward Charles. He was still in deep conversation with one of his engineers, but when he saw you approaching, his expression softened—just slightly.
“Hey,” you said quietly, folding your arms across your chest.
“Hey,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. There was a pause, the tension between you lingering like a storm cloud.
“Good luck out there,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I mean it. Be safe.”
Charles studied you for a moment, his green eyes searching yours. Then he nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For earlier.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, someone called for him, signaling it was time to get ready. He gave you one last look, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with words unsaid.
The race began, and for a while, the roar of engines and the blur of cars distracted you. Charles was in good form, holding his position, making clean overtakes. You found yourself exhaling with relief every time his car flashed across the screen.
But then it happened.
It was almost too fast to comprehend. One moment, Charles was rounding a corner, perfectly in control. The next, there was smoke, debris, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal.
Your heart stopped.
The commentators’ voices rose in panic, their words a jumbled mess that barely registered in your mind. “Oh no, that’s Leclerc… that’s a big one.”
Everything else faded—the noise of the crowd, the hum of your thoughts—until all that remained was the image of his car, mangled and still.
“Red flag,” one of them said, and that’s when it hit you. They’d stopped the race. It was bad.
Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.
The minutes crawled by like hours, every second another layer of dread settling in your chest. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, desperate for any sign, any update, anything to tell you he was okay.
When they finally cut to the scene, you saw the medics surrounding his car, moving quickly but carefully.
“He’s conscious,” one of the commentators said, and you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Not until you saw him. Not until you heard him.
You thought back to the fight, to the last thing he said to you, and it made you sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be the last memory you had of him, the last words you exchanged. It couldn’t.
You were already reaching for your phone, dialing his team, someone, anyone who could give you more than the vague reassurance of the broadcast.
“Please,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please let him be okay.”
It’s strange, how quickly everything can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out, that the argument was just another bump in the road. But in the back of your mind, there’s always that voice whispering, telling you that things might never be the same.
And now, with every second that ticks by, your thoughts spiral, faster and faster, until you can’t breathe. What if this is it? What if those were the last words you ever said to him?
You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but all you can see is that image of his car, broken and still. Your pulse races. You told him you loved him today, but did he really hear you? Was he ever truly certain, or was that last moment of tension, the words left unsaid, enough to make him doubt everything?
You hate this. You hate the fear gnawing at you. You hate that you're sitting here, helpless, as he’s out there fighting for his life. That feeling of powerlessness—it’s unbearable.
Please, you think again, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. Please, don’t let this be the end.
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© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.
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lovieku · 2 days ago
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DECEMBER ⋆ 정국
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being with jeongguk is a gift in itself. this christmas, you’ll show him your gratitude. do whatever is on his list.
⋆⁺₊❅. 3/6 from christmas & chill
pairing dilf!jk x gf!reader
genre smut, fluff, established relationship
warnings jk 31 | oc 22, exhibitionism, public sex kinda, breeding kink, mirror sex, oral (f receiving), condomless p in v sex, oc is on birth control but she won’t be anymore after this, these tags back to back are making me lose it, yeah they’re pretty horny if you couldn’t tell
word count 5.7k
author's note oki this is literally porn with plot but what do you expect me to do with dilf jk in my hands
banner by the perfect @awrkive ⊹₊⟡⋆
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“What’s on your Christmas wishlist, doll?”
“I want… I think I want a baby. And then—”
Jeongguk snorts in that way he does when he wants you to think he’s unimpressed, but really he’s just trying to think of something to shut you up, wheels turning in his head, scrambling before your teasing has an unwanted effect that might undo him.
On his couch, he pulls you closer to him as you giggle in his neck, your figure curled up in his embrace, and he caresses the side of your thigh in an impossibly gentle pattern. He’s heat incarnate, a living furnace outdoing even the fireplace softly cracking and reflecting its warmth on your faces in the dimly lit room.
His hand squeezes once, twice, then he finds you ear with his mouth, “Don’t say that.”
You pull back just enough to look at him with the biggest grin, “What’s on your list then, huh?”
Your boyfriend pretends to think it over with unusual indecision, tilting his head up to the ceiling dramatically and leaving his collar bones exposed, giving you the opportunity to further bury yourself in his warmth. Peppering small pecks onto his neck, you sigh into the comfort.
“Since we’re going in that direction,” his low tone scratches his throat and vibrates against your lips, pooling like heat where it always does when he’s this close. He pulls you impossibly tighter to his chest, mouth back to your ear just to whisper with that teasing lilt of his, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you in a public space. With people outside, you know.”
Even with your heart skipping and rolling down the tallest hill, landing right in your lower belly, you hum, feigning nonchalance, though your sarcastic nod doesn’t fool either of you. He looks down at you with a wicked smirk, one point ahead after rendering you speechless. You still try, “Yeah?”
Jeongguk doesn’t miss the chance and strikes gold, “Mhm. And I also want to give you my babies.”
“Shut the fuck up, Jeon. I’m serious.”
The older man’s laughter rings out, light and boyish in a way that doesn’t match the words he let out, nor the feel of his rough hands roaming your body. Even more when his unrelenting fingers find their way to your sides. They press in gently at first, testing. But then he really starts to tickle.
You flinch, stubbornly clamping your lips into a tight line, muscles tensing as you fight the inevitable. You think you’re determined enough not to give him the satisfaction of hearing you break, but when he moves toward your armpits, it’s over.
Your eyes squeeze shut, shoulders twitching, but it’s your mouth that betrays you first. A sharp snort escapes you and is only joined by more and more breathy giggles, air knocked out of you, “Jeongguk, no!”
His grin widens at your plea, voice mockingly stern but tone playful and sweet, “Why are you being such a brat to your old man, huh? So disrespectful.”
You shriek, squeal, the sound dissolving into waves of laughter that shake your entire body, now sprawled on the sofa and desperately trying to run away from his touch. You almost make it. Almost. But Jeongguk is faster, pinning you on the couch and tightening his hold, knees digging on either side of your hips.
The air wheezes out of you when his lips join the tickling on your neck, nipping and kissing between your gasping laughter, his own still lingering like it’s contagious. Your body twists instinctively, “Stop!”
He moves up, nose brushing against yours as he lets his voice drop even lower in a warning, “You know what to say.”
It wasn’t fair. You know what he wants to hear, but your pride digs its heels in, even as you pant for room to breathe. You struggle under him, half-heartedly trying to push his hands away, but when his hands find the sensitive spot behind your knees you just can’t help the way it spills out of you in a panicked laugh, “Sorry, sorry, sorry!”
Jeongguk finally relents, hands falling away as he collapses beside you, joining your breathless amusement. That little chant is the unspoken rule between you two, the one surefire way to end his tickle wars.
The room is silent for the small moment it takes you to even your pumping heart and slowly level your panting. Jeongguk cuddles to your side, body molding effortlessly against yours, and as his arm tightens around your waist, you speak against the space of his chest he’s pressing you into, “I could make both happen for you.”
There’s no drop of subject on your part, your words resounding in the quiet made of your moderating breaths.
Jeongguk snorts again, shuffling down and muffling his low hum in your neck. It’s his way of playing coy and pretending not to take you seriously, but you can feel his grip getting rougher.
Only when you swat him does he shift to look up at you, chin resting lazily between your breasts and lashes fluttering in exaggerated innocence, just like his words, “And how would you do that?”
“Yoongi’s Christmas party next week.”
Jeongguk’s brow quirks upward, “You want me to fuck you with all my friends outside? Didn’t you say you were scared of meeting them?”
It’s your turn to stifle a laugh, lips twitching as you turn your head away in sudden embarrassment. He leaves featherlight pecks along your jaw to quieten his own chuckles, but it only coaxes a smile out of you. You return to him with a soft expression playing on your flushed face, long dimples carving your cheeks, “I did, yes. But it’s only because I want their approval.”
Jeongguk stills for just a second as he studies you. The moment he spots the faintest flicker of genuine worry in the subtle twitch of your brows, his teasing front is thrown completely out of the window.
“Oh, my baby,” he cups your face with both hands, cradling you like his most precious possession, meeting your widening eyes when he tilts your chin. “They’ll love you, okay? It’s about time they meet the reason I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever felt in years.”
The blush creeping up your neck is inevitable, especially when his hand drifts downward, fingers resting lightly on your stomach and moving in soothing circles. A gesture so small yet telling, of how attuned he is to your every shift and need, even the ones you don’t voice.
It’s been almost a year since you and Jeongguk made things official, and the journey has been marked by slow, steady steps. No rush, no racing. Time has felt pliant, stretching out to meet you both at a pace that felt unforced. It gives you room to grow and deepen the bond that only the two of you share, unburdened by the weight of outside pressure.
Both of you have been careful, almost cautious about walking longer distances. Not out of doubt, but out of respect for what you’re building together. It’s not hesitation, it’s intention.
You fucking love this man, more fully than you even thought possible. And you’re more than sure that he’s the one, making all the waiting and searching worth it.
You’ve grown just enough to understand not everyone will accept your dynamic as easily as you’ve come to. You wanted it to feel true — to be true — between the two of you before inviting the outside world into it.
Jeongguk is 31. Successful, experienced, and carrying the scars of a rough divorce. You’re 22, still a student, scraping together what you can to get through each month, too focused on textbooks and exams to know anything about adulthood yet.
By all accounts, your paths should never have crossed in any meaningful way. Yet, they did. You found each other, and you blossomed to love one another. What seemed complicated came down to a feeling so intricate and achingly simple.
There’s no denying love. There’s no grand, pragmatic solution for it. You can’t push it aside just because it doesn’t fit into neat societal boxes. And you can’t push him away.
Still, you’re not blind to how others might see it. Outsiders, with judgments and assumptions, could scoff and accuse you of chasing wealth, or sneer at him and reduce his intentions to shallow desires for a younger distraction.
Those tired, clichéd narratives miss the way your brain quietens when he’s near, his laughter filling gaps in your life you didn’t know were empty. They couldn’t be further from the truth, from what truly binds you together. Love.
And, well, sex. The sex is fucking great. Makes you wonder how you ever lived without it before him.
“The horniest, too,” you quip, deflecting from the fleeting vulnerability with a playful smirk that has Jeongguk groaning, rolling his eyes the same way he’s shifting beneath you to effortlessly maneuver you until you’re lying on top of him.
Jeongguk tilts his head back, dark eyes narrowing in mock challenge as he jumps between your face and the smirk that refuses to fade. His own grin is barely concealed, and his voice drops to a familiar low timbre, “Don’t try anything funny, doll.”
“I’m just saying… I’ll do whatever is on your list.”
────⋆。˚❆˚ 。⋆────
Spending your first Christmas wrapped in the warmth of your boyfriend’s presence leaves no room for anything but a jaw-breaking smile that swells your heart. The kind that doesn’t fade, no matter how much your cheeks ache, and twingles with the soft glow of the lights strung around the room. Especially when you get to discover a new side of Jeongguk, one that blooms brighter the more he’s surrounded by his closest friends.
You can see the love in the crinkle of his eyes when he laughs and lets it resound freely, how he eats comfortably without any of the reserved mannerism he sometimes carries in public, the way he tosses out teasing remarks and takes them just as easily. It all makes you feel less nervous, and it soothes the anxiety you’d been carrying.
Still, you stick to his side, either with your leg brushing against his under the table or your fingers intertwining in a touch that seeks for comfort. Though with the hours stretching, you find there’s no real reason to feel intimidated.
Everyone welcomes you like you’ve always been part of Jeongguk, and they were just waiting for you to step into the missing space beside him. It’s in the easy smiles they offer, the warmth in their laughter as they include you in their conversations without hesitation. You settle in that place with sheepish smiles, a soft voice chiming in here and there, and the quiet admiration that fills you each time your gaze follows Jeongguk’s every movement is enough for his friends to see he’s in good hands.
But you can’t ignore the thought that keeps making your head spin every time Jeongguk casually rests a hand on your exposed thigh, fingers digging into the skin like a slow burn.
You might blame it on the baby fever that’s been clinging to you since earlier, making you warm and sugary with emotions, when you witnessed him distracting Yoongi’s daughter from a tantrum while having her sit on his lap, a gentle hand on her back. Which has to be chalked up to your ovulation phase.
Or maybe you can just blame it entirely on him and the sultry voice he used to confess the dirtiest wish on his list nights ago.
After he did, you’ve hinted at it an unhealthy amount of times, more than you’d care to admit, and it always ended the same way. You, folded in half on his bed, strong arms gripping your hips as he rutted into you with an urgency that bordered on desperation and that had you both unraveling with pleasured wails.
It’s become your own desire more than his at this point. An all-consuming thought that refuses to be brushed aside, especially today, on this occasion. The perfect occasion to make it happen. Fuck, get a grip.
The command feels laughably weak in the face of temptation. How could you resist when Jeongguk looks like he does? He’s draped in a warm, Christmas-red sweater that’s practically begging you to be peeled off, its sleeves rolled just enough to reveal glimpses of the tattoos that snake up his forearm, and enough for your thighs to press together. His hair is freshly cut and styled. And on top of everything, he smells deliciously. His scent is just the perfect, intoxicating, masculine mix of aftershave and cologne.
But you think your breaking point is feeling him sneakily leaning closer when he thinks no one is looking, the brush of his breath near your neck, his nose ghosting over your skin as though probing your resolve. And you’re definitely failing the test.
The scrape of your chair against the floor as you stand abruptly startles not only Jeongguk but everyone at the table. Gulping, you stumble on your speech as you ask for directions to the bathroom and the words coming from Yoongi’s mouth barely register in your mind, body moving on autopilot, turning sharply toward the hallway in hopes that your subconscious will guide you the rest of the way.
You miss Jeongguk’s head tilting in adorable confusion, that signature gesture of concern pairing with knitted brows as he watches you disappear. When he glances back at his friends, they just shrug and resume their conversation.
The moment you lock the door behind you with the sound of the latch clicking into place, your back meets the wood with a forceful push, a little too rough, but entirely necessary. You’re desperately trying to knock some needed sense into yourself, and you follow with deep, measured breaths.
To no avail. The persistent buzz low in your belly hums louder, the embarrassingly quick slick heat pooling between your thighs becoming almost unbearable, especially with the thin lace of your panties doing little to ease your discomfort. You had put them on at the prospect of what would follow the dinner. What you’d hoped to save for the privacy of your home, not here.
Not here.
Stepping toward the sink, you grip its cool porcelain edges as though it could pull your composure together. Lifting your eyes to the mirror, you’re met with your own reflection. Wide-eyed, cheeks flushed, lips parted. A look you know all too well.
You reach up to fix your perfectly styled hair, smoothing it down in a feigned attempt to focus on something else that is not this. But the more you try, the more you stare back at your delirious state, the more you question if feeling such an attraction is even sane, healthy.
You can perfectly picture Jeongguk standing behind you, body pressing against yours, hands gliding over your hips, lips finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. Jeongguk would take care of what he’s unconsciously caused, wouldn’t he? He’d work to tick that one wish off his list.
The thought alone has your nails scraping against the cold surface of the counter, and your eyes squeezing shut. It frustrates you to inhumane levels, how easily he reduces you to this pubescent state, as if you’ve never known control.
What makes you release a breathy scoff in the small space is the knowledge that he hasn’t even touched you tonight.
When you feel your phone ping in your purse, you‘re startled out of the dangerous spiral that had nearly pulled your hand beneath the hem of your dress. Your gaze flickers to the mirror, where the vivid reflection of Jeongguk had started to feel too real.
Your fingers clumsily dig past lipstick tubes and stray receipts until they close around the device. The screen lights up with his name, paired with that little bear emoji he insisted on adding beside it.
JJ🧸🎀: Everything ok?
You only hesitate for a moment, fingers hovering over the keyboard. But your thumbs move before your brain can stop them.
You: can u come help me plz
The knock at the door comes almost instantly, unexpected enough to make you stumble before you reach out to twist the handle, pulling the door only as to reveal your figure in the narrow frame.
He nods your chin at you with curious concern, “Let me in?”
Looking up at him with wide, uncertain eyes through long lashes and under drawn up eyebrows, you swear you catch the faintest flicker of something primal in his own.
You step back to let him enter, the small space feeling even smaller with his gaze never once leaving you, tracking your every movement like you’re the only thing in the world worth looking at.
The soft click of the door locking behind him is all it takes for his warm palms to cradle your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks, “Sweetheart, what happened?”
You only shake your head, and his hands slip from their hold on you as your back meets the cool edge of the sink counter behind you. The plush curve of your ass squishes with the pressure, and he briefly darts downward to take in the soft fabric of your dress clinging to your frame before snapping up to meet you again.
“Talk to me,” he urges, almost pleading.
Looking down, you just now notice how your shoe has loosened around your calf, and alternating between his brows dipping low over widened pupils and your heels, you seem to not even be able to control the way your foot trails up your leg in a feigned sheepish demeanor, your cheek resting on your shoulder.
You try to fight the smile by biting on your lower lip, and in the softest voice you surrender to your stubborn, persistent need with a flimsy excuse, “Clasp on this heel is so thin… I can’t close it.”
Jeongguk’s every sense is alert. His eyes follow your line of sight with urgence, ready to cater to your every request, do all it takes to make sure you’re safe, hands twitching at his sides the more his protective instinct kicks in.
But it doesn’t take much longer to detect the real intentions behind your creased forehead in pretend worry, breath catching in your throat the moment you spot the shift in his eyes. Now hooded, heavy.
He looks back up at you just to seek confirmation of your plan all along, and lets an exasperated chuckle escape him when you can only pout enough to make your impatience clear.
Jeongguk hums, taking one step closer until the counter edge digs behind your thighs, your figure almost sitting up on the surface, “Does my girl need help, hm? Is that so?”
It’s useless wasting more time. It’s useless trying to avoid it and pretend this exact moment isn’t what has been dominating your mind the whole day, both too proud to voice it but too naughty to actually suppress it.
So Jeongguk slowly gets down, never once looking away from your expectant eyes, not missing the way your chest gasps. You nod just as sluggish, mouth left slightly agape, too entranced by the look on your boyfriend’s face and his hand settling on your ankle to gently lift your foot and rest it on his propped-up knee.
When he patiently works on the struggle ahead with the tips of his careful fingers delicately brushing against your skin, it’s nearly torture trying to remain composed.
Now done with the pathetic excuse, your shoe properly set in place, Jeongguk is only getting started with the real reason he’s kneeling before you.
Jeongguk doesn’t rise right away. Instead, taking his pointer finger, he traces a teasing line up your calf that causes immediate goosebumps to prickle your skin, betraying just how deeply his actions affect you. He follows the trail up, and up, until reaching the side of your thigh. That’s when he stutters.
With your leg up, the skirt of your mini dress has ridden dangerously high and as a result it does very little to hide what’s underneath it, especially when the lacy panties you chose to wear are barely even doing their original job at covering you.
Chuckling lowly, his jaw clenches, “Baby.”
His vibrating tone runs as a pleasing buzz along your spine, and it has you straightening your posture the more you feel yourself slip under his control. You tilt your head, suddenly not so confident anymore in the game you started.
He slowly blinks up at you, sliced eyes matching perfectly with the wicked smirk on his lips, and the look he reserves you with is intense with something that doesn’t allow to go back, “What is this, huh? Did you plan it?”
You can only shake your head, afraid that if you speak you’re going to give you two away without even starting anything.
And he’s making it extra hard, especially when his digit travels up to your inner thigh, gaze never leaving yours, “Do you always go around with these kinds of panties on, doll?”
Guilty. Of course you don’t. Whole night has been sticky and uncomfortable. So yeah, this was indeed a plan. But now that it succeeded, you’re suddenly not sure how to act upon your own needs, intimidated by the man at your feet. You move your face side to side, faster this time.
Jeongguk gently lets his head fall to the right, his curls jumping with the movement, and he sounds softer than the way his hand is already pushing your leg to the side, “What do you want me to do, hm?”
It’s impossible to keep the moan you were forcing down your throat with his firm touch on your burning skin. It gets a chuckle out of him, and the subtle tinge of degradation has you pushing yourself further into his face, mere centimetres apart from your embarrassingly wet core.
He seems totally unfazed by your desperation, keeping his eyes trained on your face no matter how great the temptation to just dive into you already is. Jeongguk can smell you, and he could just lean forward a bit more to have the tip of his nose brush against your clit. But he resists.
He nods his chin up to you, his breath fanning over your clothed pussy, and he keeps the challenge up, ignoring the way your eyebrows draw up and paint you in deliriousness, “Use your words. Tell me what you need.”
Even in your haze, you’re mindful to keep your tone down, and the otherwise loud whine escapes you in the form of a whimper, your tummy going up and down with your panting and your thighs unconsciously parting in an attempt to have him pay attention to what clearly doesn’t need to be explained.
Jeongguk doesn’t want to act upon clues, though. You put both of you in this situation, and now he simply wants to know why.
Gulping at his intense gaze not once leaving your shaking and blown out pupils, you whisper a strained plea, “I want you to touch me. Been thinking about this all night.”
His condescending smile is accompanied by a long, belittling hum, his eyes finally dropping low to inspect the wet patch expanding from your clenching hole. From where it had flattened around your knee, Jeongguk lets his palm travel under your dress and across your lower tummy, caressing it while subtly letting his thumb brush past the hem of your panties.
You jut your hips forward, feverish with the minimum stimulation of his breath against your sex, but you’ll learn the hard way to not be so impatient, your boyfriend’s hand pressing against your stomach to push you back down on the counter.
The pressure feels nice, and he knows it. There’s no uncalculated action in the way he touches you; he’s memorised what your every sound of pleasure corresponds to. Nonetheless, he keeps taunting you.
Keeping his hand cupping the skin around your navel, he uses his other calloused one to spread your legs open and allow himself to have you. Or at least you think so, before he uses his lips to further tease you, his tongue skimming the wet spots on the inside of your thighs without never even brushing the pulse and center of all your needs.
Before you can protest and fully push yourself on him, he looks up at you with a warning ready on his lips, “Be fucking quiet, doll, I swear.”
And it’s like he does it on purpose, because he willingly doesn’t give you any time to prepare and just latches at your wetness through the slicked material, making it hard to stifle the first moan threatening to topple out of you.
The pace he picks up is torturous, and his saliva blending with your own wetness causes your panties to stick uncomfortably in between your puffy lips. You huff, protest ready on your tongue, but Jeongguk precedes you and pulls the piece to the side, not once detaching from your weeping cunt, the sudden coldness of the room that hits your exposed folds immediately being replaced with his warm desire.
He doesn’t have time to scold you for your behaviour, but oh, he will. The way you’re clutching tightly on his hair and rutting into his lapping tongue, struggling to keep your noises down; how you impatiently rush him to get you to that high you desperately seek. You were never granted permission.
So, he allows himself to be just a bit mean to you, his licking along your slit slow and fleeting, almost imperceptible, his grip poking harsh cavities in your skin that will leave marks. Not that you mind.
When he growls lowly against you with his nose brushing your most sensitive spot, it’s your clue to push the testing-his-patience to the side and maybe act less like a brat. There’s no time, and you really want — need — whatever he’s willing to give you.
With a hand curling around the edge of the counter, you use the other to stifle your moans, and his approving nod vibrates with a hum and pulses with your clenching hole. He starts to lap at your core now, engulfing your lips and nuzzling himself closer to your entrance.
“You’re so bad,” it comes out slurred and muffled, but the humiliation settles in you with a pleasing buzz that has your hips stuttering when he nudges your center with the tip of his tongue. The sound you let out in response is close to a cry that you quickly swallow, fighting hard to be obedient and keep down, even more when he continues with his belittling comments against your throbbing walls, “First on the naughty list this year, huh.”
As much as the both of you love the chase, Jeongguk knows he has to get you close to a breaking point if he doesn’t want the others to suspect your absence. That’s why he moves his warm muscles up to your clit and lets his two digits join the stimulation, only causing more slickness to smear a mess between your legs.
Your body involuntarily runs after the cruel curling of his fingers, forcing their space inside your mushy walls, warm and clutching around him the more his tongue picks up its pace. You can feel him panting against you, and his laboured breaths only work to bring you to the ecstasy you’ve been daydreaming about for days now.
He does exactly what it takes last to undo you, speaking between trails of your stickiness and efforts to slurp every single drop of it you offer him, “C’mon, pretty. Cum before the others find you like this.”
You choke on a gasped moan, your body convulsing with the incessant provocation and the attempt at keeping louder sounds stifled behind strained whines. Jeongguk gulps down your essence, lapping at every corner of your core to make sure he doesn’t miss none of the reason you’re shaking for.
Only when you unconsciously try to avoid his grip on you does he detach from you, letting his devilish gaze drag up, slowly along with his body. Before he gives the two of you any possibility of speaking, he crashes onto you, mouth chasing yours in a kiss that has you tasting your own self mixed with him.
He pants, moving with a smirk on his glossy, puffy lips, “Satisfied?”
The breathy giggle fanning against him lets him know that you are far from that, “Didn’t you say something about fucking me? You seem hard.”
“God, I can never make that pretty mouth of yours shut up, huh. You want my cock? That what you badly want?”
It was never this easy to get Jeongguk to give in so quickly to your bed requests. Usually, it was a game of hunting, of resistance, of testing the other’s resolve to see who would break first. But now, it’s different, and there’s no hesitation in the way he tugs at his pants, breath ragged and his focus entirely on you.
The moment his length is freed, already hard from eating you out and throbbing with need, he doesn’t wait for permission—he never has to with you. You realize how completely your moans and whimpers have filled the air and how incapable you are at quietness.
How can you be when the sound of him slapping his thick shaft against your lower stomach sends a new jolt of arousal coursing through your body?
“Lay back,” Jeongguk rasps, nudging you with his hips, and you obey without question, your palms supporting your weight on the counter.
He lets his tip drag over your slick folds before pushing his whole cock in, the suddenty of the action meeting your anticipation with a gasp leaving both your mouths.
Jeongguk only forces himself deeper, quickly adjusting to a preferred pace once he checks that you’re okay with a small nod. Because he knows it’ll be hard to slow down once you give him the go ahead.
He’s never been this embarrassingly close from simple teasing and foreplay, but his thrusts become stammered almost too early, and he thinks it has everything to do with you granting his only wish on his Christmas list and being so eager to tick it off for him.
He wants to do it for you, too, “Fuck, baby. I’ll cum inside you, hm? Keep all my mess stuffed in your tight hole. Make your wish come true.”
The implications behind his slurred speech have your eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth hanging open to release your every breathy whimper. Jeongguk knows you’re on the pill, and for this exact reason it’s not the first time he finishes in you.
Yet, the shift in his tone and the reasons he decided to speak that last sentence cause you to throb uncontrollably in overstimulation around his thick length, making it a struggle for him to slide easily into you.
Making your wish come true, the one you jokingly whispered to him on your couch a week ago, means one thing. The knowledge of Jeongguk wanting to fill you with his babies moves something so deeply instilled within you that you can’t help the wail escaping you, immediately burying your face in the curve of his broad shoulder and biting at the skin.
He has to fight just as hard when he feels your pussy contract, knows you’re getting closer again, feels himself dangerously near to breaking as well, mouth parted and brows knitted, delirium washing over his face.
Lifting his gaze up from your enthralling orbs, he catches sight of your tangled bodies in the mirror behind you and groans, clutching your hips tighter to angle himself just enough to perfectly witness himself sinking in you at a relentless speed in the reflection.
“Oh doll, fuck,” his expression is hard and focused, the way his jaw ticks only adding to the feverish look, and his voice is rough from the whispering, “Look behind. Look at us in the mirror, how well you’re taking me.”
You manage to weakly turn your head enough to witness your naked bodies blending together at your centers, his muscled hands tightly clutching at you and digging marks that will leave their signs for a while.
Weakly, your head falls back and you let a particularly loud whimper flow freely out of you. Jeongguk would be a hypocrite if he were to shut you up, because his own grunts resonate against the empty walls the more he buries his greedy length in you.
He hopes the music he convinced the others to put on before leaving the room to check on you in the bathroom is enough to pad the inglorious sounds of skin meeting and breaths shortening.
The noises seem to suddenly alarm you to the point of cradling the side of his face with your soft palm and moving him to you, just to catch his mouth with yours in a kiss that’s all teeth and spit, that vibrates with the moans you struggle to swallow.
His pounding stutters the more he fucks into you, and he manages a few flicks at your clit before thrusting hard and steady, once, twice, three times, emptying himself in you. The warm feeling of his white semen filling you to the brim comes with a new emotion tonight, and you pulse around him in your second climax.
There’s no time to recover from the high when his whispered plea meets your ear, “Baby. Need to fuck you again.”
You pant, thoughts confused, speech slurred, “What?”
“Let me take you home, c’mon. I wanna pump you full of me again, and again, and again. Until you can feel it, can’t escape it.”
The intensity in his eyes conveys a love that contrasts deliciously with the lust still clouding the stuffy bathroom, his lips closing around pecks down your jaw, then under it, then along your neck.
You’re hoping that what he’s saying is exactly what you want it to be, “Jeongguk…”
Cradling your face, he speaks against your mouth, “I love you so much, doll. We’re making it happen. Let me practice for now, hm?”
A smile parts its way across your face, soft and full, and you can’t suppress it even if you tried, even when you try, “But the others—”
“Need you. Now.”
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norrisainz33 · 2 days ago
Text
Party time || ln4
☆ summary: y/n throws a end of season party party and the grid find out ln and y/n have been keeping a little secret
☆ pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader x platonic!grid
☆ fc & warnings: slightly suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume
☆ requested: nope! this has been in my drafts for months
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
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ynleclerc: waiting for everyone to get home from this triple header so we can celebrate like …..
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arthur_leclerc: i’m literally sitting next to you do i mean nothing
ynleclerc: uhh yeah you’re not alex or rebecca or carmen or lily or lily or kika or leo
arthur_leclerc: blocked
charlesleclerc: wow leo gets a mention and not me?
ynleclerc: oui
alexandrasaintmleux: leo and i miss you. we’re counting down the days 🤍
charlesleclerc: mon amour 😫 don’t encourage her
ynleclerc: f off charles! that’s my girl!
user1: the leclerc’s and their beauty needs to be studied
scuderiaferrari: you are always welcome to join us y/n 🤍
ynleclerc: merci admin 😘
user2: is the sun bothering you queen 🔫
landonorris: perhaps you should just come to abu dhabi?? ever think of that!
ynleclerc: omg no never thought of that once!!!
landonorris: y/n/n
user4: is it wrong to say i ship these 2
user3: y/n really said i’m bored pay attention to me and she’s so real for that
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logansargeant: who is on this private story?? need to know who is invited before i even consider showing up
ynleclerc: just abt the whole grid, my favorite girlies, kyle, patito, and bunch of my other friends - some you know !!
logansargeant: i’ll only go if kyle goes
yourbff: i can’t wait!!!!!!
ynleclerc: me either bestie i miss you
alexandrasaintmleux: i am so excited! i got the finishing touches for my outfit today 🤭
ynleclerc: yessss i can’t wait to see it!! you’re going to look stunning 🤩
alexandrasaintmleux: so are you gorgeous girl
charlesleclerc: Puis-je te convaincre de changer de tenue ? [can i convince you to change your outfit?]
ynleclerc: absolument pas [absolutely not]
charlesleclerc: mais mes collègues vont te voir et je ne peux pas les laisser avoir des idées [but my coworkers are going to see you and i can’t have them getting any ideas]
ynleclerc: tant pis pour toi 😘 [too bad for you]
landonorris: are costumes required for this party?
ynleclerc: no but wouldn’t be a problem because you’re already a clown?
landonorris: and ya know what i hate you
ynleclerc: no you do not muppet
georgerussell63: we’re all going to need this after the season 😫
ynleclerc: no doubt georgie especially bc you were stuck in that tractor
georgerussell63: 💀
iamrebeccad: carlos asked why he’s not on the invite and i said it’s because you love me more and now he’s pouting
ynleclerc: a big big baby he is
iamrebeccad: the biggest
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ynleclerc: you may as well have been!!
charlesleclerc: oh so you missed me?
ynleclerc: yes i don’t want to deal with arthur alone anymore
charlesleclerc: i knew it
carlossainz55: wow she didn’t show up to greet me like this???
charlesleclerc: you know the only reason she came to pick me up is because alex and leo were involved
landonorris: where tf was my invite
charlesleclerc: don’t think i don’t know about your little crush on my baby sister
landonorris: gonna have to have a chat w carlos huh
alexandrasaintmleux: my baby girl
charlesleclerc: yes yes you love her i know
arthur_leclerc: she’s so dramatic and for what
charlesleclerc: yes but she is our sister so we must be nice
arthur_leclerc: 🤓☝🏻
iamrebeccad: my two most favorite girls
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ynleclerc: surprised you know what a grwm is
carlossainz55: i’m not that old hermana
charlesleclerc: how are you the favorite friend ?!
carlossainz55: my charm and overall superiority
charlesleclerc: 🙄
landonorris: sooooo carlos… you told charles about my thing for y/n??????????
carlossainz55: what? no i did not!
landonorris: but you’re the only one i told!!!!
carlossainz55: … i may have told rebecca and she may have told alex who may have told charles
landonorris: mate 😭😭😭
carlossainz55: i’m sorry
landonorris: do you think charles knows the full extent?
carlossainz55: rebecca doesn’t think he does
landonorris: great so i can at least keep some of my dignity 😔
alexandrasaintmleux: eeek so cute
arthur_leclerc: you forgot to actually mention that you’re on set up duty not grwm duty
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user2: omg it’s annual end of year party time im so sat i hope the drivers are there and get messy
user3: bisexuality is truly a beautiful thing
alexandrasaintmleux: 😫 mon amour you are stunning
ynleclerc: i love youuuu
landonorris: i’m gonna miss you when i scroll……
ynleclerc: 🤭 good thing you get to see me in real life so no need for missing me
landonorris: so true y/n/n. see you soon 😉
yourbff: i’m foaming at the mouth
patriciooward: 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
ynleclerc: so excited to see you patty
user16: god ur perfect
user22: screw your brothers, i want you
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charlesleclerc: that little gremlin better not be with my sister
carlossainz55: 💀💀💀💀
arthur_leclerc: trying the insta story means he must have really disappeared
carlossainz55: i can’t find him anywhere in this house
yourbff: i can’t find y/n/n either
carlossainz55: charles is gonna have a fit
iamrebeccad: hehhe i think i found him
carlossainz55: oh mi amor where is he?
iamrebeccad: he is with y/n
carlossainz55: where?
iamrebeccad: you can’t get mad at him
carlossainz55: it’s not me you should be worried about
iamrebeccad: they snuck out to get pizza and go to lando’s
alexandrasaintmleux: i may have kept somethings from you and charles 😔
carlossainz55: alex what do you know
alexandrasaintmleux: y/n/n and lando have been seeing each other on the down low for a couple weeks now
carlossainz55: mi amiga 😫 you better butter up charles or his head is gonna explode when he finds this out
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user2: Y/N THIS IS UR PUBLIC STORY
user3: screaming y/n what is this
charlesleclerc: y/n y/m/n leclerc - this is your public story. where are you both right now?
ynleclerc: OOPS!!!!!!!!
charlesleclerc: yeah oops for sure… where are you??
charlesleclerc: ma sœur stop leaving me on read
lilymhe: ARE YOU BOYH AT THE PIZZA SHOP RN HAHAAH
ynleclerc: Y E S!! i wanted pizza and lando was kind enough to take me
lilymhe: so is this like a thing now?
ynleclerc: i think so yes 🤭
lilymhe: omg you’re an evil, sinister, orange girl now 😭
ynleclerc: SCREAMING
user4: y/n it’s 3am what are you two doing rn
carmenmundt: baby what is this
ynleclerc: 😔 i tried to simp on private but messed up
carmenmundt: obsessed but also how is this how i found out??
ynleclerc: i tried to tell you at the dior show but got scared. this is all so new
carmenmundt: no need to be scared darling!! i am very good at keeping secrets but you let this cat out of the bag it seems
user7: omg are you guys together???
user8: drunken hard launch? girl i love you so much you’re my idol
user9: raw! next question
alexandrasaintmleux: hehehe tea
ynleclerc: is charles breathing still?
alexandrasaintmleux: oh don’t worry about your big brother. he’ll be fine. tell me about LANDO
ynleclerc: he is a dream alex 😭😭😭😭
ynleclerc: we made things official 🥹
alexandrasaintmleux: YESSSSSSS LETS GO ITS ABOUT TIME
user5: y/nlando truthers are UP rn
georgerussell63: laughing hysterically at this
ynleclerc: george shut up
georgerussell63: never
user6: guess your party is going well 😂😂😂
[this post has been deleted by user]
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carlossainz55: mate why won’t you respond to your texts
landonorris: i’m sorry im sorry got a bit caught up
carlossainz55: are you having fun?
landonorris: yes 🥹 we got pizza and she admitted she liked me a lot and wanted to make things official
carlossainz55: why didn’t you tell me you two had been hanging out for a while now???
landonorris: i didn’t want to 1) jinx it or 2) put you in an uncomfortable position with charles 😭
carlossainz55: gracias for thinking of me but i’m always here for you cabron
charlesleclerc: no funny business lando or i’ll run you off the road
landonorris: wouldn’t dream of any funny business charles
lilymhe: i hope yall remember this in the morning 💀
landonorris: actually ☝🏻 we are basically sober
oscarpiastri: you stealing the host of the party to take her to get pizza then to your house is crazy work mate
landonorris: i didn’t steal her 😭
oscarpiastri: then why she not at her own party bro
landonorris: bc she wanted pizza
oscsrpiastri: yea so you stole her
landonorris: 😔
maxfewtrell: get that girl 😤
landonorris: i did mate 🤩
danielriccardo: and who is this?
landonorris: y/n leclerc
danielriccardo: a leclerc?!
landonorris: the leclerc yes
danielriccardo: good job kid
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ynleclerc: happy new year from me and mine 🥂✨
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iamrebeccad: stunning 😭
user14: don’t think we don’t recognize those curls on the last slide y/n
georgerussell63: i’m still laughing btw
ynleclerc: and what if i said i hate you
georgerussell63: i’d know you were lying 😘
user23: y/n, alex, rebecca and carmen doing everything together is so important to me you don’t understand
charlesleclerc: wow i made the cut?
ynleclerc: *leo made the cut
charlesleclerc: a brother can dream huh
user45: i love how we are swiftly moving on from that story and back to our regular programming 😭
landonorris: yours you say?
ynuser: perhaps 🫣
alexandrasaintmleux: tea
user47: how am i supposed to be normal about this
user81: don’t edge us omg
landonorris has posted a story
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view all story replies
charlesleclerc: please don’t post things like this with my sister
landonorris: i have to show her off charles. she’s too pretty to not be posted 🥹
charlesleclerc: you got me there but i don’t like it mate
landonorris: i’ll treat her right - i promise
oscarpiastri: i’m so glad i don’t have to hear you cry about her anymore 🧡
landonorris: you’ll still hear me crying osc dw
user4: HARD LAUNCH CITY
ynleclerc: you’re so cute im obsessed with you
landonorris: i am the luckiest man on earth
ynleclerc: lando 😭😭
user10: you calling her a gift is sickeningly cute
alexandrasaintmleux: be good to my girl ok? leo and i both will kill you if you hurt her
landonorris: i will! i promise! she is everything i have ever wanted and more and im not going to give that up any time soon
alexandrasaintmleux: music to my ears 🤍
user87: BOTH! i want you BOTH
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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angelfic · 2 days ago
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— A BOY WHO’S JACKED AND KIND
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jason todd x reader summary: you trick jason into participating in a certain tiktok trend a/n: a little drabble because I’ve been doomscrolling on tiktok and jason is most definitely jacked and kind and I need him desperately
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You can tell that Jason is getting more annoyed by the second. He can’t continue reading his book for longer than five minutes at a time before glancing up at you from across the room with a curious frown. You move around the kitchen fixing yourself an iced coffee while absentmindedly scrolling through your phone and occasionally letting out a laugh or smiling.
By the sixth time you let out a snort, Jason decided he’s had enough and shuts his book, flinging it onto the coffee table before walking over to join you in the kitchen. “What’s making you smile that isn’t me, babe?”
“Huh?” You pull your eyes away from your phone to see Jason attempting a casual pose, leaning against the refrigerator, but he’s borderline pouting. You bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing at him and shake your head. “It’s nothing, just some videos.”
“What kind of videos?” he asks quietly, reaching out to start playing with a strand of your hair that’s escaped your claw clip as if by reflex. He’s still frowning slightly and you roll your eyes, deciding to put him out of his misery.
“Just a cute TikTok trend,” you explain, pulling one of the videos up as Jason peers at your phone eagerly. “See, you get your boyfriend to see if he can pick you up and put you on his shoulder. Some of them are really cute, but look, there’s some who can’t hack it.”
Jason nods slowly in revelation, still engrossed in the rest of the video that’s currently playing before he huffs and shakes his head. “How the hell is that guy struggling? Easy work,” he mumbles.
You’re about to tell him that not everyone has that Red Hood strength on their side before a plan starts forming in your head. Suppressing a smirk, you glance up at him and raise your eyebrows. “Oh yeah? You think you could do it better?”
Jason looks at you with a blank expression. “Was that a joke, or…?”
“I know you’re strong,” you say, shrugging as you nonchalantly take a sip of your coffee, turning away to hide your grin as you walk over to the living room. Jason is hot on your heels as expected. “I just don’t think you could do this as easily as you think.”
“Let’s go,” he says, clapping his hands together. You slowly turn around and tilt your head in questioning. “Let’s make the video, c’mon.”
Hook, line and sinker.
“Alright,” you sigh, setting down your coffee to prop your phone up against it. You pull up the app. “If you insist. Do you want your face in it or should we do it facing backwards?”
“I’ll just cover my face with my hand,” he waves you off, rocking on his heels impatiently. “I only need one of ‘em to lift you.”
He says it so matter-of-fact, and the knowledge that he’s not actually trying to boast has your mouth going dry. It doesn’t help that he’s now shucking off his hoodie and wearing a short-sleeve black t-shirt. His biceps flex as he flings the hoodie onto the couch and you resist the urge to forget about the video and pounce on him. Just for a second.
Clearing your throat, you busy yourself with pressing record and turning a timer on to allow you to step back towards Jason.
“Moment of truth,” you say, challenging him with your doubtful expression and he merely smirks. “Try not to pull any muscles.”
Jason snorts and goes to cover his face with one of his hands, the other already seeking out your waist.
“Wait, not yet!” you remove his arm to place it back at his side and he peeks through his other hand to let you see him rolling his eyes. When the timer is done, you allow yourself to grin, unrestrained and count to 3 in your head. “Okay, go.”
Before the audio has even played halfway through, Jason bends down slightly to factor in your height compared to his and his one large hand grips your hip to lift you off the ground. It feels effortless as he settles you on his shoulder, steady as a rock and you yelp, not expecting him to be that quick.
The rest of the video is you squealing as Jason unexpectedly spins you around in a circle, his one hand gripping your thigh as the other still covers his face. “Jay!” you shriek, looping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. The only reason you’re unsteady is because Jason’s shoulders are shaking with silent laughter.
The video stops recording when the audio ends and you tell Jason as much, making him drop the hand covering his face to grin up at you. He raises an eyebrow as if to say ‘I told you so’, before flexing his free arm for dramatic effect.
“See?” he says, rubbing small circles on your thigh with his thumb and talking up at you with all the ease of talking to you as if you were on the ground in front of him. “What did I say? Easy work, babe.”
“Big show off,” you say, wrinkling your nose at him as you begin to slide down his body. You go slowly, considering the man is basically a human skyscraper and he seems to take advantage of the fact, hands shamelessly roaming up your legs and your sides. He hooks your legs over his own waist, making you cling to him like a koala.
“Can I help you?” you ask, squinting at him when he doesn’t say anything, choosing to just stare at your face instead, drinking you in. You break his concentration by leaning in to press a short, sweet kiss onto his lips that he chases when you pull away. “Earth to Jason?”
“Y’know, I’d be more inclined to participate in your stupid TikTok trends if they all end like this,” Jason mutters, running his nose along your jaw and down your neck before nestling his face there. He doesn’t initiate anything, simply wanting to bask in the comfort of your skin.
You grin at the successful ending to your grand plan, disentangling yourself from your boyfriend to jump down, ignoring his groans of protest.
You run to your phone to save the video to your drafts - no one else needs to see how good Jason’s arms look in a tight black tee - and pull up your folder of couple TikToks. “Oh, well, if you’re finally offering,” you start saying, circling Jason’s wrist with your hand and pulling him onto the couch. He sighs, previously sweet smile being replaced by something skeptical. “I have a whole bunch of ideas.”
“This feels like a set-up.”
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© angelfic 2024.
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wafflefries13 · 3 days ago
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Asking Out the Twisted Wonderland Cast (Multi TWST cast X Reader)
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Summary: Sometimes, you can't just wait for good things to happen to you. Time to screw your courage to the sticking place and finally ask out that boy you like!
AN: I meant for these each to be like 200 word drabbles. Some of them kind of got away from me, lol.
Cross-posted on my AO3 TheGhostInTheKitchen
Warnings: Fluff, AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.
Part 2: First Dates
The sounds of the NRC cafeteria clattered around the group of first years. Utensils scraping on plates, sizzling from the open window to the kitchen, a hundred different conversations from all sides. Their small group sat clustered around their table, nestled close together to be heard over the general din. 
“I’m just saying,” Ace said, mouth half full. 
“You’re always ‘just saying’,” Deuce said. 
Ace shoved him. “I’m just saying, if you want to try out for the anchor position on the track team you have to actually ask for it. Get Coach Vargas and don’t stop bugging him until he sees what you can do! No one’s going to just wait for it to happen.” 
“And I’m saying it doesn't do any good to be a nuisance when I don’t even know if I’m good enough yet. I might as well wait till tryouts next semester.” 
“No, no, he’s right,” (Y/N) said, distantly. 
“Yeah!” Ace said. “Wait, right about what?” 
“You can’t just wait for stuff to happen to you. If you really want something you have to go and take it for yourself.” She stood abruptly, face determined. “I need to ask something.” 
Ace:
“Ace!” 
Ace jumped, brushing off crumbs from his jacket. “What? What did I do now?” 
“Do you want to go out with me?” 
Epel choked, Jack thumping him on the back. Deuce looked like she had just insulted his mother. Sebek rolled his eyes as he took another bite. Ortho gasped, leaning forward, eyes wide and excited. 
“I-What?” Ace stuttered, his face rapidly turning red. “Where the heck did that come from?” 
“You were just saying you shouldn’t wait for something you want. I like you, I have for a while now. So, do you want to go out?” 
Ace stuttered out a reply, slapping on his normal cocky smile but decidedly not meeting (Y/N)’s eyes. “I mean, yeah, of course you fell for me! It’s about time you said something. But, um, yeah, I’d like that. A lot.” 
“Well,” Deuce said, rolling his eyes. “It’s about time one of you said something.” 
“Hey!” Ace shouted. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
(Y/N) playfully shoved him. “Oh, please, don’t act like I haven’t noticed that you like me too. You’re not subtle about it.” 
“What made you think that?” 
“Ace, within the first week of me being here you asked to sleep in the same bed as me twice.” 
From another table, definitely not eavesdropping, Riddle fainted. 
Deuce:
“Deuce!” Deuce jumped at (Y/N) suddenly shouting his name. “I need your help with something. Can you come with me for a second?” 
“Oh, yeah, sure, of course.” Deuce ignored Ace’s pointed look. Deuce followed (Y/N) out of the cafeteria down the halls. “Where are we going?” 
(Y/N) suddenly turned around, Deuce almost colliding with her. Before he could apologize, she took his hands, looking up into his eyes as he felt blood rush to his cheeks. 
“I just wanted somewhere more private,” She said. “Deuce, I really like you. Will you go out with me?” 
“I-huh?! I mean, yeah, yes! I like you, too!” He rubbed the back of his head and looked away shyly. “Man, I wanted to ask you out first.” 
(Y/N) grinned. “Really? How were you going to do it?” 
“Well, my mom said that when my dad first asked her out he got her this big bouquet of flowers. But he ended up being allergic to them so he kept sneezing the whole time. She took him to the infirmary at their school and he had to write it down since his face was too swollen to talk.” 
“Well, I wouldn’t say no to flowers. Maybe we can skip the rest of that, though.” 
Deuce marched over to the cut out window of the hallway, opening out onto the quad. Reaching over, he plucked a fluffy pink peony from one of the bushes. He came back to (Y/N), suddenly very flustered, and held it out to her. 
“(Y/N),” He began. 
She clasped her hands together. “Yes?” 
“Would you do me the honor of - Ah!” Deuce yelped as a bee flew out of the peony blossom, shooting for Deuce’s face to sting him. 
Turns out, they did spend time in the infirmary. But, after (Y/N) kissed his cheek and gently held the flower, Deuce didn’t seem to mind too much. 
Trey: 
“Ow!” 
Trey paused outside the Heartslabyul kitchen as he heard the exclamation from inside. He was planning on testing out a new bread recipe his parents had sent him and wasn’t expecting anyone else to be using the kitchen that day. He peaked in, seeing (Y/N), Grim, Ace, and Deuce crowded around the island in the middle. (Y/N) was blowing on a burn on her hand, Grim rifling through the pantry for various sweets, and Ace and Deuce waving away smoke from a burnt pastry freshly pulled from the oven. 
“I told you!” (Y/N) said. “You can’t just raise the temperature for it to cook faster, it’ll just burn!” 
“Well, sorry for trying to make your confession go faster before you chicken out,” Ace said. 
“I’m not going to chicken out! Probably. Maybe. What if the pie burning is an omen?” 
“I wouldn’t read too deeply into it,” Trey said, entering the kitchen. The first years jumped, (Y/N)’s eyes going wide and she stared at the floor. 
“Well!” Deuce said, grabbing Ace and Grim and hurrying them out the door. “Omen or not, that’s our cue to leave. Good luck, (Y/N)!” 
Silence echoed around the two of them as the door of the kitchen thunked closed. (Y/N) fiddled with her fingers, still not looking up. Trey walked around the island, looking at the smoldering pie. There was a mostly neat lattice across the bubbling fruit, with extra crust cut into letters around the rim. 
“‘Trey,’” He read. “‘Will you-’”
“Ah! No, wait!” (Y/N) jumped forward, covering it with her hands. She jumped back as her palm accidentally hit the hot pie tin, giving her another burn. 
“Oh, wait, hang on.” Trey quickly went over to the sink, grabbing a clean towel and soaking it in cold water. He gently took her hand, pressing it to the burn. (Y/N) chewed her lip. “You know, I’d be happy to help if you want to try again. I’ve been wanting to try this new butter pie crust that’s good with custards and-”
“I really like you!” (Y/N) blurted out, face going as hot as the burn on her hand. “Would you want to go out with me? Please?” 
Trey tightened his grip on her hand, careful to avoid the injury. He smiled, laughing. “I was wondering if I should say it first. I guess you beat me to it. Yes, (Y/N), I’d love to go out with you.”  
Cater: 
Cater was relaxing in the Heartslabyul gardens, a can of red paint discarded beside him. He hummed something the pop music club had been working on as he scrolled through Magicam. He took a quick selfie, winking, tongue out with a peace sign, before refreshing his feed. 
He paused when he saw (Y/N) come across his dash. She was smiling brightly, one arm arched above her head and the other held down at an angle to create half a heart. The word ‘Will’ was written in bubbly cartoon letters in the middle. A few posts later, there was a second photo, an almost perfect mirror of the first to complete the heart. The word ‘You’ was written in the middle of this one. 
Cater almost felt like he was solving a puzzle as he searched the rest of his feed for more posts. Each had (Y/N) in a dramatic pose, adding another word to complete the sentence, ‘Go,’ ‘Out,’ ‘With’, ‘Me.’ When he realized it was a request to ask someone out, he couldn’t help but feel a little deflated. He shook his head. Of course (Y/N) would be crushing on someone. With all the adventures she had gone on during their time at NRC, it would make sense to develop strong feelings. He tried to quiet the voice in his head that hoped those strong feelings would go his way. Well, whatever, that just meant he had to keep a close eye on whoever had earned her affections, maybe give them a good threatening to treat her right while he was at it. 
Cater tapped on her name, taking him to her Magicam profile. It felt like just the other day when he was helping her set it up. He sighed at the happy memory. For a second, it occurred to him that the message (Y/N) had been spelling out in pictures didn’t end with a question mark. He thought it was weird. Was it a mistake? Then his eye caught on the latest picture, posted just a second before. 
It was a selfie of (Y/N) holding a large bouquet of yellow and orange flowers, marigolds, daisies, and buttercups. The majority of the frame was over her shoulder, showing Cater himself sitting against the hedges. His name was drawn in the same cartoon font with a question mark, surrounded by a heart.  
Cater snapped up, whirling around. He quickly whipped away the happy tears budding at the corner of his eyes as he saw (Y/N) waiting for him. The flowers were crushed between them as he scooped her up in a tight hug, both of them laughing. 
(They both carefully rearranged the flowers after to be presentable for the mandatory #TogetherForever couple photoshoot after.) 
Riddle: 
Riddle frowned at the commotion building from the Heartslabyul common room. He could make out the familiar rising sounds of Ace and Deuce’s voices. He began marching to the source of the racket, faltering a little when he heard (Y/N)’s voice joining in. Mentally scolding himself from eavesdropping  (it wasn’t eavesdropping, he was keeping tabs on his dorm mates, that’s it) he hovered near the cracked open door. 
“No, wait!” (Y/N) said. “We can’t use coral roses! I said pink!” 
Ace huffed. “What’s the difference?” 
(Y/N) tapped a small dark red book she was holding. “Coral roses symbolize desire, pink roses mean admiration and happiness. I’m not trying to scare him off before I can even ask him out!” 
Before he could even think about it, Riddle threw open the door, shouting, “Just what is going on here?” 
Everyone inside jumped. Riddle swept his eyes across the room, taking in the bundles and bundles of roses in multiple colors carefully poised on every surface. Ace and Deuce were meticulously balancing a bouquet in the chandelier, plucking out the offending coral colored roses. Cater was smirking in the corner, phone poised to capture everything. Trey chuckled behind his own large bouquet of yellow roses.. 
“Um,” She said, startled by his interruption. Taking a deep breath, she set the book down and picked up a bouquet of lavender roses, shoving them in Riddle’s direction. 
‘Lavender,’ He thought. ‘Love at first sight.’ 
“Riddle!” She said, probably a little too loudly. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?” 
The silence that followed was deafening. Cater tried to break the tension with a laugh. “Aww, (Y/N),” He said. “What happened to that whole speech you had?” 
“He surprised me!” She said. “Oh, wait, hang on, I still have it.” Without thinking, she shoved the bouquet in Riddle’s arms, searching her pockets to pull out a neatly folded piece of notebook paper. “Ahem. Riddle, I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past few months have been a torment. I came to Heartslabuyl with the single objective to see you. I-” 
“Everyone out!” Riddle shouted. As the group scuttled to the door, he pointed at (Y/N). “Not you.” 
The door thudded behind them, Ace and Deuce giving a quick thumbs up and what was supposed to be a confident smile as they left. (Y/N) crinkled the paper in her hands. 
“It gets better,” She said meekly. “The speech. Although I guess in the movie it ends with a rejection too. I should have used the one from the end, or Shakespeare maybe. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more - well, I guess you're not very temperate. Wait, let me try again.” 
“(Y/N),” He said. He held the lavender flowers tightly. “You know what this means?” 
“Oh, the flowers? Yeah, I, um, I’ve been studying.” She picked the book back up, shyly holding it up. Riddle could read the title now: The Queen of Hearts Guide to Courtship and Love. 
“You,” Riddle said, feeling his face heat up. He held up the flowers. “You mean it? Really?” 
(Y/N) took a step towards him, understanding softening the worry on her face. “Of course. I wanted to ask you out and I thought, well,” She waved at the multicolored roses, laughing. “Go big or go home, right?” 
“It certainly is a statement.” Riddle picked up a yellow rose with red tipping the petals and handed it to her. (Y/N) recognized the colors immediately as meaning ‘Falling in love.’ She gasped in happiness, jumping forward to wrap Riddle in a tight hug. 
Leona: 
“Ruggie!” Ruggie paused as he heard (Y/N) call his name. She jogged over to him where he held Leona’s typical boxed lunch order. “Hey, that’s for Leona, right? Do you mind if I bring it to him? There’s something important I have to talk to him about.” Ruggie considered it for a moment before shrugging and handing it over, but not before stealing a couple of chips to pop into his mouth as he strolled away. 
(Y/N) found Leona in his normal spot, a hidden alcove in the gardens in the biodome. He was laying on his back, arms crossed behind his head, and eyes closed as he dozed. He cracked his eye open as (Y/N) approached. 
“Hi,” She said, kneeling down beside him. 
“Hmm,” He replied. 
“I have something important to ask you.” 
“Are you going to try and make me get up?” “No.” 
“Alright, ask away.” 
“Will you go out with me?” 
Leona’s eyes snapped open. He pushed himself up on his elbows to stare at (Y/N), smiling sincerely at him, and maybe holding his lunch hostage until she got an answer. 
“I really like you,” She continued. “You’re brave and confident and know exactly who you are. Sure, you can be stubborn as hell, but you also really care about people close to you. Don’t make that face, you can’t fool me. You could have easily thrown me out when Grim and I needed someplace to stay when Azul took over Ramshackle, but you didn’t. You didn’t even kick us out when we were making so much noise and annoying you, you helped us break Azul’s contracts instead. You joined the Culinary Crucible because Epel did and you wanted to keep an eye on your team mate. Please, as if you ever need to learn how to cook, I know you can’t even use a microwave. And you pretend not to notice when Ruggie steals your credit card. And there was that time you followed all of us to Playful Land because you were worried we were going to get scammed. You didn’t have to do that, but you did. You’ve got a big heart of gold under that spiky exterior. And I really admire you for that. I… I really love you, Leona.” 
“Well,” Leona said, laying back down, tail flicking. “I suppose going on a date wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” (Y/N) decided not to point out the content smile stretching across his face. She made a move to stand up, but Leona shot an arm out to hook around her waist, pulling her down next to him with an “Oof.” “Now don’t tell anyone else about all that,” Leona grumbled without any real heat. 
Ruggie: 
Ruggie was in Leona’s room, folding laundry while the house warden took a nap behind him. Ruggie stretched his arms above his head, sighing when there was a satisfying pop in his back. Suddenly, the door to the room slammed open. Ruggie yelped and Leona woke with an undignified snort. 
“Gah, what now?” Leona mumbled. 
“Ruggie!” (Y/N) said, standing in the doorway. She was panting as if she had just run across campus (she had). 
“Uh, what? Yeah? Whatever it was, I didn’t take it!” 
Unperturbed, (Y/N) marched over to him, taking both his hands in hers. “You did take something.” Ruggie frantically tried to remember if he had stolen anything from Ramshackle recently. He tried not to, knowing (Y/N) was pretty much as broke as he was. It didn’t seem fair. And maybe he liked her a little too much to swipe something. “You stole my heart!” (Y/N) continued dramatically. “Will you go out with me?” 
Behind them, Leona coughed to unconvincingly cover up a laugh. 
Ruggie’s ears flattened to his head in shock. He reached back and batted at his tail as if that would get it to stop wagging. “I - what? Are you sure? Me? What?” 
“Of course! You’re resourceful, you work hard, you’re clever, and you care a lot about your family back home. I really admire all that about you and more! Not to mention you’re super cute. So, will you go out with me?” 
“Oh, just say yes already, Ruggie,” Leona said, settling down to continue his nap. “At least then I won’t have to hear you being such a sap all the time.” 
Ruggie let out his signature laugh. He tightened his grip on (Y/N)’s hands. “Well, sure then, why not? As long as you’re paying, right?” 
Jack: 
Jack and Vil were out on their daily morning run. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting the Night Raven College campus in a warm golden light. At their halfway point, they took a break, Vil stretching in his cooldown. 
“You sure you don’t want to keep going with me?” Jack asked. 
“No,” Vil said. “I’d rather stay slim than bulk up like you. I have my status to maintain. And besides, it looks like I would be interrupting something rather important.” He smiled knowingly and pointed with his chin a little ways down the sidewalk. 
Jack turned. He felt his tail start to wag on its own when he saw (Y/N) standing by one of the Great Seven statues, drawing circles in the ground with her foot. She looked up, breaking out in a warm smile when she saw him. Vil chuckled under his breath and waved as he headed back to Pomfiore. 
Jack clenched his jaw, willing his tail to stay still as he approached her. “Good morning. You’re not usually up this early, right? Is everything okay?” 
(Y/N) jutted her arms out completely straight, offering up the flowering Chin cactus in her hands. “Jack!” She said. “I really like you. I love how brave you are. I love how you’re dedicated to the people you care about. I love how you can be sweet and kind even when you try to act tough all the time. Would you go out with me?” 
“Yes!” Jack replied, almost before the words had even left (Y/N)’s mouth. He put his hands over hers, cradling the cactus. “I mean, yes, I would like to go out with you. Very much.” 
Azul: 
Azul jumped as (Y/N) slammed her hands on his desk in the VIP room of the Monstro Lounge. He quickly gathered his composer, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Well, Prefect, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 
“I have a deal for you,” She said confidently. 
“Oh? I’d love to hear it.” 
Smiling, she whipped out a sheet of paper and slapped it on top of the other documents Azul had spread over his desk. On the top of the page in an elegant script were the words ‘Contract of First Date.’ Azul felt a lump form in his throat as his heart sped up. He quickly scanned over the rest of the ‘contract,’ outlining the proposed date. 
“Terms of the deal,” (Y/N) continued. “You, me, romantic night out. I know a guy in Craneport who said we could use one of their rowboats and I found this really cool pond with all these willow trees and fireflies. Plus I have this cute picnic basket all set up. Jamil has been teaching me how to cook, you know? Can’t say it’ll be as good as his, if we’re being honest about the terms of agreement. And the contract leaves an opening for future dates depending on the success of this one! Of course, success is not really a super definable term but you get what I mean. So, do we have a deal?” 
Azul covered his face with one hand, trying desperately to ignore how red his face must be at this point. He couldn’t seem to meet her enthusiastic and twinkling eyes. 
“I, uh,” (Y/N) continued, shyer this time as Azul scanned over the contract. “I really like you, Azul. A lot. So, will you go out with me?” 
He looked back down at the contract where her name was written in elegant script at the bottom with space for his next to it. He cleared his throat, bringing back his practiced (definitely not shady) businessman smile. With a sweep of his pen, he said, “It’s a deal.” 
Jade: 
(Y/N) marched across the cafeteria, determination in her eyes. She stopped in front of a table with Jade, Floyd, and Azul. “Hi!” She said, maybe a little too loudly with nerves. Jade and Azul looked up from their conversation, Floyd pausing his efforts in making a castle out of mashed potatoes. “Jade, I really like you. Do you want to go out with me?” 
“Oh?” Jade said, a brief moment of genuine surprise crossing his face before he schooled his features back into pleasant neutrality. “Well, what a pleasant surprise.” 
Floyd snorted and elbowed his brother. “Shrimpy’s got a crush,” He said in a sing-song voice. 
“I must admit,” Jade said, pouting with one hand on his cheek. “I always did imagine a more theatrical confession. Nonetheless, I happily acc-” 
“I can do that!” (Y/N) interrupted. Holding on to Floyd’s shoulder for balance, she climbed on top of the table. She clapped her hands loudly, shouting, “Attention! Attention, please, everyone! I have an announcement!” She cleared her throat as the room fell silent. “I would like to declare my unequivocal, utter devotion and love for Jade Leech.” She heard a choking sound below her but continued on. “I am hopelessly in love, helplessly enraptured, and absolutely head over heels. And it is my deepest hope that he could return my affections. Thank you.” With that, she hopped down, beaming. There was a smattering of applause and laughter from around the room. Epel whooped from back at the first year table. 
Jade’s hands covered his blushing face, fierce sharp eyes peeking out between his fingers. His mouth was split in a wide smile, sharp teeth glinting in a mixture of bashfulness, excitement, and desire. 
“Congratulations, (Y/N),” Azul said. “I can barely remember that last time Jade was actually flustered.” 
“Aww, look at him, he’s speechless!” Floyd teased. 
(Y/N) winced. “Sorry, was that too far?” 
Jade shot out with lightning speed, crushing her in his tight eel grip. “I should let you know,” He whispered to her. “I expect this level of dedication for the entirety of our relationship.” 
Floyd: 
Floyd darted through the stacks of the library. He could have sworn he saw Goldfish in here earlier, and he was in the mood to mess with the easily angered boy. And, while he didn’t find Riddle, he did pause as he saw (Y/N) between the books. He paused, pushing a few books aside to rest his chin on the shelf, an easy smile crossing his face as he spied on her. 
She was hunched over one of the study tables, a large book propped up and open in front of her. She was diligently working on something in her hands, tongue poking out between her lips (lips that Floyd found himself thinking about more often than he would admit), looking back up at the book in front of her every so often. 
Dropping down low, Floyd carefully made his way behind her, silent on his feet. Rising up to his full height behind her, unsuspecting, he jolted forward, wrapping her in a backward hug and pulling her back so the chair careened back on two legs. 
“Shrimpy!” He said, taking delight in her startled squeal. “Whatcha doin’?” 
“God, Floyd,” (Y/N) said, putting a hand to her chest to calm her raging heart. Her eyes suddenly went wide and she lunged forward to cover what she was working on with her arms. “Ah! Don’t look, don’t look! It’s not done!” 
Floyd grinned again. “Aww, it’s not nice to keep secrets.” His hands shot out, pulling out the thing she was hiding. (Y/N) covered her face as Floyd inspected the object. It was a thick piece of twine, various polished shells, sea glass, and dried shiny scales strung throughout. Although it wasn’t exactly neat, the way it caught the sunlight cast tiny rainbows and simmers around the library. Floyd peered at the open book. It was a cultural history of merpeople in the Coral Sea. The opened chapter described mer courting rituals and marriage traditions. Floyd started cackling as (Y/N) buried her face further in her hands.  
“How old is this thing?” Floyd asked, poking at the book. “I don’t even think my grandparents made courting charms.” 
“Shut up,” (Y/N) mumbled. “I was trying to… Forget it.” 
Floyd slipped the haphazard necklace over his neck, prying her hands away to hold them tightly in his. “I accept!” He said brightly. “This was for me, right? It better be, Shrimpy.” 
She smiled and flicked his forehead. “Possibly against my better judgment, I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else, Floyd.” 
Kalim: 
Kalim knew he should probably be studying, but every time he opened a text book or looked at the notes Jamil had oh-so-carefully marked and tabbed for him, he felt his eyes start to droop and mind get fuzzy. A good after lunch walk was just what he needed, and he definitely wasn’t just saying that to put off work. 
He stopped when he realized he had wandered outside Ramshackle dorm. Was that on purpose? Did he subconsciously come here, with the hope he might see (Y/N)? Kalim walked up to the front door, knocking before opening the door and calling inside. 
“Hello! It’s Kalim! Can I come in?” 
There was a squawk of surprise from the front sitting room. (Y/N) poked her head around the corner, flustered. 
“Hi. Sure, come on in. Uh, sorry, I’m kind of in the middle of something.” 
“Can I help?” Kalim asked, walking over to her. Peering into the sitting room, Kalim’s face lit up. Every available surface, and a few unavailable surfaces, were covered in colored and patterned paper. There were stacks and crowds of tiny paper birds littered between everything. 
“I don’t know if it counts if more people make them.” 
Kalim sat on one of the plush chairs, picking up a flowery piece of paper. “If what will count?” 
“It’s an old superstition from my world. If you can fold 1000 paper cranes, your wish will come true. Or something like that.” 
“Ooh, origami! I’ve made decorations using that before! I’m not super good at it, but I’ll help if you want.” 
(Y/N) smiled and sat next to him and Kalim felt his heart flip. “Yeah, I’d like the company.” 
They lost track of time folding cranes, the sun beginning to set high above the dilapidated house. They talked the whole time, jumping from topic to topic, joke to joke, without any real sense of flow. It was warm, there in the small room, not only due to the crackling fireplace. 
“So,” Kalim asked eventually. “What wish were you wanting to make? If this dosen’t work out, I can help you with it!” 
(Y/N) suddenly went bashful, turning away to pay extra attention to the folds of her bird. “I…” She muttered. She took a deep breath, turning to fully face Kalim. “I was going to ask you out. You have all these elaborate decorations and parties all the time. I was going to string all of these together and hang them in your room then ask you out. But, now that you’re here… Kalim, would you go out with me?” 
Kalim dropped the paper crane, flinging himself across the couch to wrap her in a tight hug. “Yes! Yes, yes yes! Oh, I would love to! Huh, I guess that means I need to cancel that order of doves now. That’s how I was going to ask you out next week. Hey, we both thought of birds! That must mean we definitely belong together, right?” 
Jamil: 
“Be right back,” (Y/N) said, standing from the first year cafeteria table. She walked across the cafeteria until she stopped in front of Kalim and Jamil. 
Jamil was shoving a napkin at Kalim. “Careful, you’re going to get sauce all over your shirt.” 
“It’s fine, I’ll be careful! And besides, it’s a pretty color, right? Oh, hey, (Y/N)!” 
“Hi,” She said, looking solely at Jamil. “Jamil, I really like you. Would you want to go out with me?” 
Kalim gasped, hands to his cheeks as he looked excitedly from Jamil to (Y/N). Jamil sucked in a sharp breath, clenching his hands. “I…” He started. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I can’t.” 
“Oh.” Jamil looked down, but not before he caught the hurt confusion on (Y/N) face. “That’s okay. Thanks for hearing me out. Bye, guys.” She walked back to her table. 
Jamil only looked up again when Kalim slapped his arm. “Jamil! That was your chance!” 
Jamil scowled. “There is no chance. I said no, she accepted it. Drop it.” 
“But you told me you liked her!” 
“I said no such thing.” 
Kalim waved his hand dismissively. “I read between the lines.” 
“There were no lines!” 
“Jamil.” He looked up at Kalim. It wasn’t often the other boy used such a serious voice, or had such a set expression on his face. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep yourself from being happy because you feel like you don’t deserve it.” 
Jamil flinched back, standing suddenly. A million retorts zipped through this mind at once, all of them falling flat and dying on his tongue. Before he could say something he would regret, heart thundering in his ears, he fled the cafeteria, ignoring the stabbing looks from the first year table as (Y/N)’s friends gave her sympathetic pats on the back. 
Jamil couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, listening to the soft, even breathing of his roommate. Huffing in annoyance, he threw off the covers and left his room. He thought he would just take a walk, just get some fresh air. Without paying attention, Jamil’s feet took him out of Scarabia, across campus, and, before he knew it, in front of Ramshackle dorm. His fist hovered in front of the door, internally debating whether or not he should knock. He startled when he heard talking behind him, spotting (Y/N) and Malleus making their way up the pathway. 
(Y/N) stopped when she saw him. “Oh. Hi, Jamil.” 
“Hi,” Jamil said, limply lifting a hand in greeting. 
Malleus looked down at Jamil, glaring. “Viper.” It sounded more like an insult than his name. 
“Did you need something?” (Y/N) asked. “It’s kind of late. Is everything okay?” 
“I-” Jamil started. “I need to talk to you.” 
Malleus stepped in front of (Y/N), but stopped when (Y/N) put a hand on his arm. They had a quick and quiet conversation, Malleus nodded and walked away. (Y/N) came up to the front door, opening it for him. 
“I’ll make some tea,” She said as they stepped into the entryway. 
“Wait-” Jamil said, catching her hand. Everything tumbled out of him all at once. “I wanted to go out with you. I like you, so much so that it scares me sometimes. That’s why I said no earlier. I just think - I thought you would - should - do better than me, after everything that’s happened. But I -” He paused, only realizing now how out of breath he was. (Y/N) looked up at him and he felt breathless all over again. “I want to do better. I want to be better, for you if not for anything else. I know I probably don’t deserve it but, (Y/N), will you go out with me?” 
(Y/N) laughed, wiping away tears at the corners of her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Yes, I’d like that a lot.” 
Vil: 
Something was wrong, Vil could feel it. After all the chaos of his time at Night Raven College, he had almost developed a sixth sense for this type of thing. 
Vil narrowed his eyes, sweeping them over the Pomfiore sitting room. A group of students were sitting around one of the tables, studying. A few others were in front of the fireplace. A couple others were performing some viral dance for a Magicam reel. Nothing seemed amiss here. 
Vil walked down the hall of the dorm, heels clicking against the marble floor. With a missed step, Vil realized he hadn’t seen Epel or Rook in quite some time. That was… concerning. He quickened his walk. 
Vil almost gave himself whiplash as he passed by the ballroom. The door was cracked open ever so slightly so he could peer through. He felt slightly ridiculous, eavesdropping as if he wasn’t the caretaker for the dorm and all those in it. But his thoughts faltered as he observed the scene inside. He found Epel and Rook, as well as several other Pomfiore students, constructing elaborate sets out of painted cardboard and repurposed decorations from the dorm. Was that…? Something about this all seemed eerily familiar. 
“Wait, wait! You’re early!” (Y/N) said. She appeared in front of him, waving her hands to try and block his view. She grabbed his hand, tugging him out of the room. “Don’t look!” She pushed him back into the hall, disappearing back into the ballroom. A second later, she emerged with a chair, setting it down and waving to it. “Just another few minutes.” The door clicked closed behind her before Vil could say anything. He thought about barging in, demanding an explanation. But his curiosity got the better of him. And besides, he always loved to see what (Y/N) got up to. Huffing in amusement, he sat down, crossing his legs at the ankles. 
A while later, Epel, Rook, and the other students fled the ballroom, giving Vil knowing looks as they passed. With skepticism, Vil stood up and made his way inside. Standing in the doorway, he was suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia. Taking a better look, he recognized the replica set. It was from one of his first ever movies, a children’s adventure called The Heist of the Everlasting Rose. This particular scene was set in a museum where the Everlasting Rose was kept. It had been a supporting role, where, ironically, he had played a child actor in part of a crew to steal the titular Rose to pay for the main character’s sister’s surgery, or some other such justifiable nonsense like that. It was his first big screen production, although it was a relatively low-budget and minor movie. He remembered after the film had come out he and his father would pour over reviews praising his performance. At that moment, he felt like he was on top of the world. 
Vil was brought out of his reminiscing by (Y/N)’s voice. “Hello, sir!” She said. She had put on a tour guide’s jacket, once again modeled after the one in the film. “Welcome to the museum! We have our prized exhibit right this way.” Vil smirked, humoring her, if nothing else than to see where this was all going. Linking their arms, (Y/N) brought him through the makeshift museum. “Legend has it that this rose was given by a cursed prince to his beloved, who saved him from the brink of death with its magical powers. Since then, it has been a symbol of pure and everlasting love.” She carefully lifted the cloche from the silk flower, tiny fairy lights arranged around the base. She held it out to him, one hand dramatically pressed to her chest. “And now, I’d like to give it to you, Vil, to profess my everlasting love. Would you go out with me?” 
Vil couldn’t help it, it was all too much. The extravagant set, (Y/N) memorizing specific passages from such an old and now obscure film, the entire production. He burst out laughing, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth, eyes closed. “Well,” He said, catching his breath. “After such a wonderful effort, how could I possibly say no? Yes, my dearest (Y/N), I would love nothing more than to be with you.” 
Rook: 
“(Y/N), you’re gonna shoot your eye out.” 
“No, it’ll be fine. You have to take risks for the sake of love.” 
“Oh, Seven, we don’t need two of you.” 
Rook’s ears picked up, hearing Epel and (Y/N) talking in the back gardens of the Pomefiore dorm. Smiling, he crept around to (definitely not) spy on them. (Y/N) was struggling with a large bow, an arrow flopping around as she tried to aim it. Pomfiore had a small target practice area set up in the back of the dorm. (Y/N) was trying, emphasis on trying, to shoot arrows at one of the red and white round targets. After her latest arrow struck the ground in front of the target, Epel sighed and walked to the target, collecting other fallen arrows. He stabbed them into the target in the shape of a heart, a letter with Rook’s name pinned to the bullseye. 
“Don’t say I never did anything for you,” Epel said. 
“Oh? And what favor are you performing, Monsieur Pommette?” Both of them jumped, Rook smiling wider at the surprised squeak (Y/N) made. 
“You’re on your own, (Y/N)!” Epel said before rushing off. 
(Y/N) huffed. “Traitor,” She said under her breath. She turned to Rook. “Hi.” 
“Bonjour, Trickster.” 
“You’re, uh, early. I thought you were going to be at your club for a while longer.” 
Rook waved a hand. “There was an unexpected explosion and we had to evacuate. But I am much more interested in what you’re up to here.” 
“Ah, well…” She trailed off, limply pointing to the letter stabbed in the target. She covered her face with her hands, heat rushing to her cheeks as Rook elegantly plucked the letter up and began reading. 
(Y/N) could basically see the hearts forming in his eyes as he finished reading her confession. He dramatically clutched the love letter to his chest, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “Oh, mon amour le plus cher! Comme c’est merveilleux de lire vos sentiments les plus caret! Je n’ai jamais vu quelque chose d’aussi beau!” 
“So,” (Y/N) asked nervously. “Is that a yes?” 
“Oui, oui! One thousand times oui!” He cheered as he gathered her in a swinging hug. 
Epel: 
Epel found the first note the day after (Y/N)’s announcement in the cafeteria. Whatever she had wanted to do was apparently pretty important, as she had grabbed Grim and they left immediately. Epel hadn’t seen her the rest of the day, but he would recognize that handwriting on the paper wrapped around his dorm room handle anywhere. 
He looked around to make sure no one was watching before unfolding the paper and reading. ‘Epel, I have something important I need to ask, but before that I have a simple task. Take this first note of the set and go to the place we first met. Love, (Y/N).’ Epel tried not to think too much about that ‘Love’ part. Where did he and (Y/N) first meet? At this point it almost felt like they had known eachother forever. 
Would that be, maybe, the well in the quad? Epel remembered meeting her, Ace, Deuce, and Grim there when he was rehearsing singing, using the well’s acoustics. But, no, they had seen each other somewhere else first. Epel blushed in embarrassment at the memory. He had been crying, frustrated to hell and back with Vil’s lectures right after coming back from winter break. He’d run into them at the Great Seven statues. 
Epel went to the statues, deciding if he didn’t find anything there he would try the well. But, lo and behold, another note was waiting at the base of the Fairest Queen’s statue. He read, ‘Epel, Congrats on finding your second clue! By now you have an idea of what to do. For the next place I want you to go, think of the place we lived side by side before the show. Love, (Y/N).’ 
That one was easy, Ramshackle dorm. As Epel sprinted across campus, both notes held tightly in his fist, he reminisced about spending his days training for the VDC in Ramshackle. Most of the time there seemed like torture, running endless dancing drills, feeling constricted by Vil’s lessons whose purpose he still didn’t fully understand at the time, worrying about the whole dorm falling down around his ears at any moment. But there were plenty of good moments too. (Y/N) making them - Vil approved - breakfast in the morning, her encouragement at each of their rehearsals, how she would slip them treats when Vil and Rook’s backs were turned to help boost their mood. 
Sure enough, Epel found his next note on the Ramshackle front gate. There was another rhyme instructing him to go to another location, also connected to his and (Y/N)’s relationship and past. That lead to another and to another and another, each unlocking a precious memory between the two. Eventually, he unfolded the final note, the sun just starting to set, casting NRC in beautiful golden light. ‘Epel, I hope by now you get to see exactly how much you mean to me. We’ve been through a lot and I’ve enjoyed every and I’ve enjoyed every second, and… Okay, I can’t come up with any more rhymes. Just turn around!’ 
Lowering the paper, Epel turned, opening his arms just in time to catch (Y/N) in a big hug. They spun around each other for a second with the momentum, finally coming to a stop and looking to each other's eyes. 
“Hi,” (Y/N) said. “Did you like my scavenger hunt?” 
“You’re bad at rhyming,” Epel said with a crooked smile. 
She wacked his shoulder. “Hey, I meant what I wrote, though. I really like you, Epel. Would you go out with me?” 
Epel squeaked her tight. “Only if you promise not to write any more poetry.” 
Idia: 
Idia was holding out in his room, huddled under a blanket, his phone clutched tight in his hand. He was watching a live stream from his favorite idol group, Premo. He smiled as the group answered fan questions, talked about their upcoming tour, and demonstrated how to perform some of their most famous dance moves. 
The viewer chat scrolled across the side of the screen. Donations and chat reactions popped up in various animations across the screen. Idia hit the donate button, sending a flurry of roses blooming along the edges of the screen. He smiled as the idols thanked Gloomurai for his support. 
One of the idols leaned over, checking the chat feed. She gasped, flapping a hand at the others and enthusiastically pointing at what she was reading. They all started smiling and giggling, whispering to each other. Idia shuffled closer, as if that would let him read whatever message they had gotten. 
“Hey, everyone!” One of them said. “We’ve got a super special shout-out! This is from (Username) to… Gloomurai!” 
Idia’s heart raced as he sat up in bed, blanket draped over him. (Username), (Username)... Wait, he recognized that. That was your username! He had helped you set up your account to the MMO he played a while ago. He remembered helping you through the intro stages, stumbling over the tutorials. He had laughed at your frustrated frown as you died on the same boss for the third time. 
“Aww,” The second idol said. “This is sweet. It says, ‘Gloomurai, I thought about telling you this in person, but I wasn’t sure when that would actually be. And sometimes big feelings require big gestures. I like you, I really, really like you. I think I have for a long time. I love your smile, I love your hair, I love your brain, I love that you’re such an amazing big brother. Will you go out with me?’ Well, Gloomurai? Tell us your answer! We’re waiting on pins and needles here!” 
“Oh, wait,” The third idol said. “There’s more. It says, ‘PS, check your door.’” 
Idia yelped as he shot up, the blanket falling to a heap on the floor. Heart thundering in his chest and head starting to go fuzzy. He almost felt like he was in a daze as he walked with trepidation to his door. Slowly opening it, Idia saw a basket placed just in front. It was filled with his favorite snacks, small acrylic standees of characters from his favorite games and anime, and studded with bluebells, irises, and blue asters. A large paper heart was pinned to the front with her and his initials drawn in the middle. Hair flaring pink, he quickly brought the basket back into his room before any of his dorm mates would notice. 
He heard commotion from his phone, Premo and the chat all eagerly awaiting his response. He sent in another donation with a simple, “Yes.” The idols cheered and squealed. 
He swiped out of the livestream, opening his messaging app. (Y/N)’s name popped up with a new message, a cheering emoticon with three blue hearts. 
He subconsciously covered his face as he smiled wide, typing back, “You’re so cringe. Can’t wait for the date.” 
Silver: 
(Y/N) sprinted across campus, heading whipping around to try and catch a familiar shimmer of silver white hair. She skidded to a stop when she saw a black Diasamonia coat draped over a low tree branch, a pair of shined boots sticking out behind the trunk. 
(Y/N) rounded the old oak tree. “Silv-! Oh, sorry.” 
Silver was reclining against the tree, hands folded across his stomach, chest rising and falling with deep even breaths, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he slept. A few songbirds and a pair of squirrels congregated around him, looking up with big eyes at the newcomer. 
(Y/N) shifted her weight from foot to foot before screwing up her courage and sitting down next to Silver. She shuffled down so she laid next to him, still leaving enough room to not cause too much of a scandal if anyone walked by. She settled down, closing her eyes and relaxing, taking in the sounds of the woodland animals around them, the talking of other students in the distance, the wind whispering through the trees. 
A short while later, she heard stirring next to her. (Y/N) blinked awake quickly, propping herself up and leaning back on her hands as Silver woke up beside her. 
“Hi,” She said. “Would  you want to go out with me?” 
Silver blinked the sleep out of his eyes, looking up at her. “I must still be dreaming,” He muttered. “If I am, then…” He reached forward, cupping the back of her head and pulling her down. She gasped as their lips brushed. Silver’s eyes suddenly shot open and he jerked back from her as if burned. “I- uh-” He studded, pale skin turning a ruby red. 
(Y/N) giggled at his embarrassment. “Well, I guess that’s a yes, right?” 
Sebek: 
“Be right back!” (Y/N) said as she suddenly stood from the first year cafeteria table. Before anyone had a chance to say anything, she was off like a shot. 
“Any idea what that was about?” Epel asked. The others shrugged. 
Grim reached over to snag half (Y/N)’s sandwich from her discarded tray. “Probably going to go ask out that boy she keeps talking about,” He said nonchalantly, mouth full. 
Sebek choked, standing fast and slamming his hands on the table so all their plates and cutlery clattered. “What!” 
“Chill, man,” Ace said, waving him down as people across the cafeteria turned to stare. Ace smirked. “Unless you’re particularly invested in (Y/N)’s love life?” 
Sebek blushed and slammed back into his seat. He picked his knife and fork back up and started sawing at his Salisbury steak. “No,” He snapped. “(Y/N) can do whatever she wants. What do I care?” 
“Sure,” Epel said. 
(Y/N) reappeared in the cafeteria a short while later, Malleus in tow. She was talking with him, gesturing with her hands. Malleus had a wide, amused smile, nodding along. 
Sebek stood again, at attention for his prince. “Good afternoon, Lord Malleus!” He said. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?” He scowled at the other first years rolling their eyes at his formality. 
“Hello, Sebek. I’ve come to give my blessing.” 
“Blessing?” 
“Sebek!” (Y/N) said brightly. She took both his hands in hers as he sputtered and blushed. “I really like you. Would you go out with me?” 
For once, Sebek was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. (Y/N) squeezed his hands tighter as Malleus chuckled next to them. “Well, Sebek? It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting.” 
Life seized back into the knight. He tightened his grasp on (Y/N), pulling her closer. “Yes! Absolutely! I mean, ahem, I accept your offer of courting, since you went so far to get my lord’s blessing, after all.” 
Lilia: 
Lilia wouldn’t call what he was doing skulking, exactly. More like surprise chaperoning, keeping an eye on the youngsters of Night Raven College like a good upperclassman should. And, if he just so happened to pop out and scare the living daylights out of whatever unfortunate student happened to be nearby, well, more fun for him. 
So it wasn’t especially surprising when he heard Silver and (Y/N) talking to each other in the courtyard. As a sly smile stretched across his face, he floated to a hiding place in the shadows of the flying buttresses, resting on his stomach to kick his feet, chin resting in his hands, as he observed the two. 
“You want my permission?” Silver asked, an amused smile on his face. 
“Of course!” (Y/N) replied. “I wouldn’t want to make it weird by dating him while we’re all still students together.” 
Lilia faltered. That was the problem with spying, sometimes you heard things you didn’t want to. So the Prefect was romantically interested in someone, eh? And if they were asking Silver for permission, it must be someone close to him. Sebek, maybe? Or, oh dear, Malleus? Lilia knew for a fact that both of the boys thought of (Y/N) as a close and dear friend and nothing more. His heart panged in sympathy at the idea of rejection. And, if he was being honest with himself, it panged with something else as well. 
“You don’t think he’s a little old for you?” Silver asked teasingly. 
“Maybe I like a silver fox,” (Y/N) teased right back. 
Silver laughed. “I don’t think I ever want to hear my father described as a silver fox ever again.” 
Lilia lost his concentration, falling with a yelp against one of the chandeliers hanging in the hallway. 
“Lilia?” (Y/N) asked with a gasp. 
Lilia smiled, trying to regain poise as he floated down to them. “Looks like I’m not as slick as I used to be. Now, what were you two discussing just now?” 
(Y/N) look startled. Silver gave her shoulder a reassuring pat and left with a wave. Just the two of them now, (Y/N) took a deep breath, building up her courage. 
“Lilia!” She said, probably a little too loudly with nerves. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?” 
Lilia chuckled, leaning close to enjoy the shy and flustered look on her face. “Well, if you have my son’s blessing, how am I to refuse? Besides, I think I rather like being called a, what was it you said? A silver fox?” 
Malleus: 
Malleus looked up from his book, looking around his room for the source of the noise that disturbed his studying. There, another sharp ‘ping’ from across the room. He looked to the window, noticing a small pebble hitting the glass. He walked over and opened the window, dodging just in time to miss another pebble. 
“Oops! Sorry, Horton!” He looked down, a smile automatically crossing his face at (Y/N)’s voice. But his expression quickly changed to puzzlement as he looked down at her. (Y/N) was standing in the courtyard of the Diasomonia dorm, inside a giant heart made of dozens of tiny tea candles. 
In a swirl of green light, Malleus appeared next to her on the ground floor. She jumped a little bit at his sudden appearance, but quickly recovered herself and beamed up at him. He felt his heart flip in that pleasant way it always did when he was near her. 
“What’s all this?” 
She cleared her throat dramatically, dropping to one knee. “Dearest Horton, you have bewitched me body and soul. I would like to officially court you. Would you do me the absolute pleasure of accompanying me on a date this weekend?” 
Malleus blinked down at her for a moment, basking in the admiration and adoration filling her eyes. He laughed, reaching down to take her hand and pull her to standing. “My, how formal,” He said. 
She smiled, shrugging. “I wanted it to be memorable. Couldn’t manage the fireworks, though. Sorry.” 
“I can rectify that.” With an elegant sweep of his hand, sparks erupted from Malleus’s fingertips, shooting into the dark sky around the dorm to explode in fantastic colors. Students from in the dorm leaned out windows to admire the impromptu show. 
Malleus drew (Y/N) closer to him, admiring the multicolor flashes playing across her face. “I would adore being anywhere with you.”
470 notes · View notes
mywritersmind · 1 day ago
Text
MARKS ON YOUR BODY - LN4||OP81
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summary : In which it starts with strip poker and ends with questions about a specific hidden tattoo and some secret piercings. Or, Lando and Oscar are both hot for you and let you know it.
listen up : zakbrowndaughter!reader 18+ not fully smut but pretty suggestive (at least for me who doesn’t write smut lol) i’m blushing. STRIP POKER PHOTO INSPIRED!! tramp stamp and tits pierced??🙂‍↕️
words : 1425
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“Alright Lan, You wanna stop?” Oscar eyes Lando who’s in pants only. The only way Lando would lose strip poker is if he distracted me too much with his body.
He laughs, “Fuck no!”
“Fuck yes.” I throw down my cards and yawn, “I’m bored of winning.” Oscar had so many pieces of outerwear that he’s lost multiple times but still is wearing jeans and a t-shirt.
Strip poker is my game apparently, maybe the possibility of the guys being naked fueled my fire.
“I swear you’re cheating.” Lando shakes his head.
Oscar’s laughing as I scoff, “I do not cheat! Just accept defeat, Norris.”
He leans against the table, “I’m not losing to you, Brown.”
“I think it’s too late for that, Lando.” Oscar fiddles with a card in his hand as I lean my head back. Apparently, my hair moves with me and Oscar’s brow shoots up, “You have a tattoo?”
I blink, “Uh yeah.”
“What!?” Lando practically screams, “Let’s see.”
I move back my hair to reveal the tattoo that’s behind my ear, it’s a tiny 8 for the number I grew up racing with. “That’s hot.” Lando nods as Oscar hits his arm, “I want to get a tattoo.”
“No you do not!” Oscar argues as Lando sends him a dirty look.
He turns back to me, his arms crossed against the table so his biceps pull my attention, “Did it hurt?”
I shrug, “Yeah, but some of my others hurt more.”
Lando’s jaw drops, “You have more? How did we not know this?”
I laugh again, “I hide them from my dad.”
“Really?” Oscar asks, seemingly surprised at my sneaky nature.
The corner of my mouth pulls upwards, “You wanna see the rest?”
His eyes are deep as he nods and taps the card against the table. “I’m assuming they’re easy to hide.”
I sigh and hook my finger to the bottom of my shirt, pulling it upwards. He's right, of course. All of my tattoos aren’t easily seen by my father.
I pull my shirt until I reach my sternum. Lando’s smile dulls as his eyes zero in on my skin, clearly not wanting to miss anything. I have a star design that goes in a line with little details around it.
Oscar leans his head back against the headrest, biting his lip and checking me out. I don’t think he’s ever looked hotter.
Lando’s hair is a mess but in the sort of attractive way that makes you want to pull it. The two of them are my greatest desire with bright orange caution tape put up by my father.
Zak Brown hates when I'm with the two of them, no matter which, he doesn’t trust me. But coming back from the FIA awards, they offered me a ride since we were all going back to england, so it was only polite to accept.
I drop my shirt and I swear I see Lando’s mouth fall into a frown. “Damn… didn’t know you went against daddy’s orders.”
I smirk, “He hates tattoos…Thinks they’re trashy. Which is ironic because...” I stop myself before I can go on, trailing off and grabbing my water to play it off.
“Because what?” Oscar asks.
“Um…” I don’t really know what to say and I feel quite overwhelmed with these two men staring at me.
“You have one more. Don’t you?” Oscar’s trying to hide his smirk but is shit at it. Lando looks to his teammate, then me.
“Now we have to see.” The curly haired man stretches his arm on the table, his muscles rippling and making me bite my lip.
“Okay.” I situate myself so I'm sitting on my feet. I pause, looking at both of them for a second. The whole thing is so oddly erotic and ridiculously hot.
I turn around in my seat, pulling down the back of my sweats ever so slightly so my tramp stamp is in view. I look over my shoulder to see their reactions because neither of them say a thing.
Oscar is staring, face blank and directed at my lower back. Lando’s mouth is open just the slightest bit, his arm draped over the back of Oscar’s seat. It’s not huge, just thin lines that make up a butterfly and some swirls to compliment it.
“Fuck.” Lando whispers, Oscar looks at him but doesn’t tell him to stop, just mumbles along with his friend. “Yeah.”
“You like it?” I know they do. I’m not blind.
The two are staring at me like i’m fucking edible and the way they look right now, I might be. “I’d be an idiot not to.” Oscar says as I turn back around, my shirt still pulled up and my hair to one side.
“I think this is the first time Lando’s been speechless.” I joke as his eyes meet mine again and his cheeks go pink. “Am I making you nervous, Norris?”
I expect him to roll his eyes or scoff, but he just breathes out and says, “You’re really hot, Y/n.”
“Can’t argue with him there.” Oscar wipes a hand over his mouth before tapping the table, “I wanna see it closer.”
I realize that he means he wants me to sit on the table. “Not even a please?” I tease but I'm already turning and setting myself down on it.
I’m about to adjust my pants but Lando’s hand does it for me. His skin is cold and holds my hip as his fingers dip below my waistband.
“Why a butterfly?” Oscar asks, leaning against the table to get a better look. I lean back and rest against my arms as they look.
“Thought it was cute.”
Oscar laughs a bit, “How often do you mark your body because it’s cute?”
Lando slides out of his seat, moving into mine so I'm facing him. He doesn’t even ask, just slides a hand onto my hip and another on my shirt, pulling it up to see my sternum.
Oscar switches with Lando so he’s now holding the back of my sweats. I let my eyes train down Lando’s chest… his abs… his arms. He’s fit as fuck and the way he was acting during strip poker, he knows it.
I go back to Oscar's question, realizing I got distracted by Lando in front of me. “Very often actually, piercings too.”
This prompts Lando to push my hair behind my ear, admiring my jewelry, “How many do you have?” He sounds almost out of breath.
“Twelve.” His fingers drift over my earrings, counting.
“You only have five on each, though.” As soon as Lando says it, I hear Oscar shift in his seat.
I don’t even wait for Lando to catch on, I just grab his wrist and have my shirt go up with his hand. Lando lets out a noise, close to a whimper.
He stares at my bare chest, the only thing on me is my jewelry decorating each nipple.
I hear Oscar stand, his hand gripping my hip tighten as he gets closer. He’s looking over my shoulder, I lean back a bit so he has a better view of my tits.
Lando’s hand is resting on my neck, pushing my shirt against my skin, I can feel his pulse beat faster under my fingertips.
Lando’s gaze shifts to Oscar as the brown eyed man stares back at him. I feel like they’re having some telepathic conversation that I can’t understand, until Oscar looks back at me.
His eyes are darker, the air filled with tension. As my eyes flick to Lando, I see his chest rise and fall. I get it now.
My hand slips to Oscar’s face, his jaw and cheek warm against my touch. I hesitate purely to see how his breath hitches, then I kiss him.
Lando swears as Oscar’s tongue dips into my mouth, he freezes between my legs. I break the kiss with Lando, hooking my leg around his waist to pull him in closer.
“Are you still nervous?” I whisper as Oscar moves his lips to my neck. Lando looks like he’s dreaming, his head turning side to side slowly as I smirk.
He kisses me, softer than Oscar at first but he becomes sloppier when I start being affected by Oscar attached to my neck.
The aussie mumbles against my skin, “This your end goal all along? Strip poker… tattoo tour… fuck?”
I lean my head back and laugh, “No. I guess I'm just lucky.”
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days ago
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Batboys and reader doing the hear me out cake trend and reader pulls out a picture of Bruce when he was in his prime.
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Apologies anon but this trend…Do not get me started on how misconstrued the phrase ‘hear me out’ is. I’ll rant about how a lot of ppl should look up the definition first. I’m very passionate about how butchered the trend is that every time I see one I can’t help but think ‘not a hear me out, try again or don’t to save my small remnants of sanity.’ I hate it so much.
Dick
Pouts.
‘My dad? Really?’ He’d ask you.
‘Yeah, what can I say he was a total hunk.’ You shrugged.
‘Was?!’ Dick replied, looking at you as though you had grown a second head. ‘What is he now then chopped liver? Do you not like older men?! Do they loose their charm the moment they have a few grey hairs and lines on their face?!’ He exclaims.
This wasn’t what you were expecting when doing this challenge because now you were being grilled by dick on whether you’ll still feel attractive to him when he himself gets old and grey.
‘I don’t have anything against older men dick, I just find your dad hot in this specific picture.’ You defended yourself and dick only puts his hands on your shoulders and gives them a firm squeeze as he presses his forehead against yours.
‘Sweetheart I don’t think you understand because what do you mean you find him hotter in the picture?! It’s Bruce the man is just naturally photogenic!’ Dick tells you. ‘You could’ve chosen a recent picture of Bruce and say the exact same thing.’
‘Eh, it’s not the same thing.’ You say and dick felt as though he might as well rip his hair from his head because what do you mean it’s not the same thing?! He was now more certain that you didn’t like older men if Bruce was only appealing to you in his youth, his supposed prime.
Needless to say the conversation diverted from the fact that you found his dad hot, to one where dick was trying to prove to himself that you just didn’t like older men/ silver foxes for whatever absurd reason.
Jason
He’s oddly silent.
You feared you did something the moment you pulled the picture of young Bruce Wayne out to put on the cake.
The wait was over the moment he did decide to say something but it was nothing like you’d expect to come out of his mouth;
‘Out of all the pictures there are of Bruce, that’s the one you picked? Nothing about that picture is flattering to him in any way whatsoever.’
‘Oh you’re just jealous.’ You’d tell him and Jason only raises his brow at you.
‘Jealous, babe have you seen me? What’s there to be jealous of that old bat.’ Jason replies as he gestures towards himself before pinching your cheeks. ‘I just think it’s adorable how you consider Bruce in his prime as a hear me out, it’s laughable really but you do you chipmunk.’ He adds.
However when you weren’t looking, he’d take the picture of Bruce from the cake and throw it over his shoulder, for there was no way in hell he was going to have a picture of Bruce on a cake. No sir, Jason would much rather die again than allow his own father to overstay his welcome on the damn cake.
He’d even act innocent when you would ask where the picture went as though he didn’t set it on fire with a lighter after plucking it off the cake. ‘It must’ve grew legs and walked off.’ He’d shrug but it wasn’t hard to know the truth.
His dad can fuck off away from the cake and you.
Damian
Another one who’s not so amused by the fact that you added his father on a ‘hear me out’ cake.
He doesn’t partake in such stupid trends that’ll sooner or later long forgotten by the public consciousness in favour of a new trend that’ll run itself to the ground just as quickly as the last. He questions the publics attention span if it was this short and unreliable, he really does and fears that the age of stupidity has begun with people who think a conventional attractive man with a Roman nose or any other unique feature is a ‘hear me out.’
As if they were any less attractive than a man with a plain featured, and rather unappealing and basic appearance. They’re weren’t, if anything people with romantic noses or any other unique features were just as attractive as the plained featured ones, and Damian found it rather ridiculous that is what is being considered a secrete that many think they’ll be judged for finding appealing.
‘My father? Really?’ He’d say as he looked between you and the picture of his father.
‘Yeah.’ You shrugged.
Damian only sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest. ‘A conventionally attractive man is you hear me out?’
‘Not just any conventionally attractive man-‘ you tried to explain but Damian didn’t allow you the space to do so.
‘My father in his prime doesn’t count, you should really do better research before putting random people on a cake, or better yet don’t partake in a challenge you don’t understand.’ Was all Damian said before he leaves the room, he’s not impressed and feared that there was too many people who for some stupid reason also though his father in his prime is a ‘hear me out.’
It freaks him out and disappoints him greatly of what the future of Gotham and humanity as a whole would look like if these people were to be at the helm.
Tim
Not amused.
He’s sick and tired of people putting conventional attractive people and anthropomorphic animals who are drawn in a specific way to elicit such emotions out of people.
So to see that you had put his father, more specifically Bruce in his first steps as the dark knight, he couldn’t help but look at you disappointedly.
One, you obviously didn’t understand the concept of a hear me out and Tim is more then ready to educate you on what one is with his long ass PowerPoint presentation. And two, really? His dad? What was wrong with his dad in his current old age? Did you have something against older men?
Wait- why was he so suddenly concerned whether or not you find his father less appealing now than how he looked in his prime? He should be more focused on the fact that you found such pristine picture of Bruce during that time, he’s tried multiple times but the resolution was god awful and didn’t do anything to flatter Bruce.
You’re still getting lectured on what a proper hear me out is though. Tim’s got fucking tons.
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planetpedri · 3 days ago
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hiii……. lando comes home and shows reader his new haircut?
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Lover // over the moon 𖦹 Lando Norris !
Summary. Lando hadn’t told you about his haircut and he was.. well, scared to show you.. but your response quickly put his worried to rest.
Word count. 395+
Disclaimers. basically fluff idk
Bea speaks! okay so i don’t really know where i was going w this..? i hate it but i hope vee likes it!!….
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Lando’s voice calling out your name only had you momentarily pausing, the wet plate in your hand nearly slipping. “In the kitchen!” You call out over your shoulder, setting the dish into the dishwasher.
His foot steps are soft on the wooden floor as he slowly makes his way toward you, “how was your day?” He asks casually when you don’t immediately turn to greet him.
Your lip curves, “good. And yours?”
Lando, still nervous, his stomach doing flips at the thought of anything but a good reaction from you—gingerly steps closer, his arms slithering around your waist. The action elicited a small laugh from you, tipping your head to the side as he placed a kiss to your shoulder.
“Better now.” He mumbles against your skin. “Also, don’t like—freak out or anything, but..”
The sweet moment was well over. You spin around in his arm, eyes widening at the sight in front of you. Lando is silent as your eyes dart over his head, your fingertips pressing into his cheeks as you push it side to side.
“Why was I not consulted?” Your eyebrows lift and your gaze drops to his eyes. Noticing the worry displayed across your boyfriend’s adorable face, you soften. “I’m not complaining. Just.. well, i’m surprised! That’s all.”
His expression lifts at your comforting words, “it was an impulsive decision, plus.. Oscar and I had a bet. I lost.”
A laugh tumbles off your lips, “what?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” The man grumbles lowly. “Do you like it or is a beanie going to have to make an appearance?”
Feigning to think, your finger grazes his cheek. “I actually,” you pause, tilting his head again, examining the way the sides slowly faded, “I actually love it.” Your tone was almost surprised, like you hadn’t thought you’d actually like it so much.
“Yeah?” His face lights up one again, his smile lifting to show his tooth gap. “Good.”
Mirroring his wide smile, you place a kiss to his mouth. “I have to finish cleaning the dishes.” You pull away and pat his cheek. “Next time you want a haircut, tell me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He says, voice full of amusement before stepping back and making his way to the fridge. All anxieties he had about your disapproval, long since faded.
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likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future lando posts.
ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @spidybaby @sakashq @joaoflms @h4vertzz
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leona-hawthorne · 2 days ago
Text
FICMAS #7— WHAT’S YOUR TYPE? / theodore nott
december 22nd
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theodore nott x fem reader
summary: theo is smart, but he’s an idiot when it comes to taking hints. sometimes, you have to just give it to him.
warnings: smut, unprotected piv, oral m!receiving, google translated italian (sorry in advance)
words: 2.7k
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Theo had this way of existing—effortless, detached, like gravity bent to his whims. He lounged against the headboard, a cigarette between his fingers, the smoke curling upward in lazy spirals. You were convinced he didn’t even like smoking; he just enjoyed the ritual, the way it made his hands look purposeful.
The dorm was dim, the only light spilling from the bedside lamps. Everyone else was sprawled across the furniture, engaged in half-hearted conversations about Quidditch or the latest rumors circulating the castle. But your focus was locked on Theo. Always Theo.
“What’s that look for?” he asked, his lips curving into a smirk as he caught your gaze. His voice was low, teasing, pulling at some invisible thread in your chest.
“What look?” you shot back, tilting your head and feigning innocence.
He chuckled, a sound that sent warmth pooling in your stomach. He took a drag of his cigarette and passed it to you without a word. You accepted it, your fingers brushing his. The fleeting contact sent a shiver down your spine, but you masked it with a casual exhale of smoke.
“So, what’s the topic tonight?” you asked, your tone light.
Theo raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘topic.’”
“I mean, what bullshit are we debating? Everyone’s always got something to say about something.”
He glanced around the room, noting the fragmented conversations, before turning back to you. “I think we’re safe to create our own.”
“Fine,” you said, handing the cigarette back to him. “What’s your type?”
Theo blinked, caught off guard. “My type?”
“Yeah. You know, what you look for in someone. Or are you too much of a brooding intellectual to care about such trivial matters?”
His smirk returned, sharper this time. “I’ll have you know I’m very discerning.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” you said, rolling your eyes. “But seriously, I want to know.”
He hesitated, the cigarette poised between his lips. “I don’t know. I guess someone who can hold their own. Smart, independent. Doesn’t take my shit.”
You snorted. “So, basically, someone who’s not a doormat.”
“Pretty much,” he admitted, shrugging. “What about you? What’s your type?”
You took a moment, pretending to ponder, even though the answer was sitting right next to you. “I’ve always thought intelligence is sexy. Like, really sexy. Bonus points if they speak another language.”
Theo glanced at you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Oh, yeah? What’s so great about that?”
“It’s just impressive,” you said, leaning forward slightly. “Shows effort, you know? And…” You trailed off, letting the tension hang for a beat. “I’ve always been a sucker for blue eyes.”
His expression didn’t shift, but you could see the gears turning in his head. “Interesting.”
“Isn’t it?” you replied, your tone light but your gaze steady. He didn’t look away, and for a moment, you thought he might finally connect the dots. Instead, he leaned back, as if dismissing the comment entirely.
“What about personality?” he asked, like you hadn’t just described him to a T.
You sighed, exasperated. “Theo.”
“What?” he said, his voice full of feigned innocence.
“For fuck’s sake,” you muttered, grabbing his wrist and yanking him to his feet. The room barely registered the two of you leaving; everyone else was too absorbed in their own conversations.
Theo followed you into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind you. “Care to explain what’s going on?”
You turned to face him, your back against the door. “You’re supposed to be smart.”
“I am smart,” he said, crossing his arms.
“Then why are you so bloody dense?” you asked, stepping closer. He didn’t move, his eyes fixed on yours, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Am I?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave.
“Oh, you absolutely are,” you said, your hands finding the front of his shirt. “But I think I can help with that.”
The realization finally dawned on him, and his smirk widened. “Well, by all means, love. Enlighten me.”
You didn’t bother with a reply. Instead, you tugged him down by his collar and crashed your lips against his. Theo responded immediately, his hands bracing on your hips as he pressed you back against the door. The kiss was heated, messy, all teeth and desperation. You’d been waiting for this, and judging by the way his grip tightened, so had he.
“You’re insufferable,” you murmured against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair.
“And yet you’re all over me,” he shot back, his tone smug. Before you could retort, his mouth was on yours again, silencing any comeback you might have had.
Your hands moved to the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head. Theo barely gave you a moment to breathe before he was on you again, his lips trailing down your jaw to the sensitive spot just below your ear. You gasped, your head tipping back against the door.
“I think I like it when you’re annoyed,” he murmured, his voice rough.
“Shut up,” you managed, but the words lacked any real venom. Your hands roamed over his chest, mapping out the planes of muscle and the scatter of freckles across his skin. He was impossibly warm, and you couldn’t get enough.
Theo’s hands slipped beneath your shirt, his fingers skimming over your bare skin. You shivered at the contact, your breath hitching as he pulled the fabric up and off. His gaze darkened as he took you in, his lips parting slightly.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his hands settling on your waist. “Così dannatamente carino.” (So fucking pretty.)
Heat bloomed in your cheeks, but you didn’t have time to feel self-conscious. Theo’s mouth was on you again, his kisses trailing down your neck and across your collarbone. Every touch, every movement felt like fire, and you couldn’t get enough of him.
“Theo,” you breathed, your fingers clutching at his shoulders. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with intent.
Theo didn’t hesitate this time. His lips found yours again, hot and desperate, his hands roaming up your sides and pulling you against him like he needed you closer just to breathe. The counter dug into your back, but you didn’t care, not when his kisses were this consuming, his tongue brushing yours and leaving your head spinning.
But you’d waited long enough for him to figure this out, and patience wasn’t exactly your strong suit. You broke the kiss, your lips brushing his as you whispered, “Why’d it take so long for you to figure this one out, hm?”
His smirk reappeared, lazy and infuriating as his hands settled on your hips. “Maybe I just like taking my time.”
You huffed, turning him around so his back was now pressed against the counter. “Then let me spell it out for you,” you said, your fingers already moving to the buckle of his belt.
Theo’s breath hitched, his smirk faltering as you pulled the leather strap free and let it fall to the floor with a soft clink. Your fingers worked quickly, unfastening the button and zipper of his trousers, and when you pushed them down his hips, the tent in his boxers told you everything you needed to know.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his hands gripping the edge of the counter behind him as he stared down at you. “You’re not messing around, are you?”
“Not in the slightest,” you said, dropping to your knees in front of him.
You tugged his boxers down, and his cock sprang free, hard and flushed and already leaking at the tip. Theo let out a sharp exhale, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the counter harder. You glanced up at him, meeting his eyes as you wrapped a hand around him, giving a slow, deliberate stroke.
“Still confused?” you asked, smirking when his hips twitched at your touch.
“Not even a little,” he said, his voice rough and tight.
You didn’t give him time to say more. Leaning in, you flicked your tongue over the tip, tasting the salty bead of precum there before taking him into your mouth. The groan that tore from his throat was low and guttural, his head tipping back to rest against the mirror.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his fingers tangling in your hair as you took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
You hummed around him in response, the vibrations drawing another string of curses from his lips. Your hand worked the base of his cock in tandem with your mouth, your pace slow at first, teasing, before you gradually increased the intensity. His breathing grew heavier, his hips jerking slightly as you set a rhythm that had him unraveling beneath your touch.
“Shit,” he groaned, his voice breaking on the word. “You—God, you’re so fucking good at this.”
His praise spurred you on, your free hand sliding up his thigh to steady him as you took him deeper. He was losing control, his grip in your hair tightening, his moans turning into something desperate and raw.
“Fuck—” His hips bucked as his head fell forward, and he looked down at you with wide, blown pupils. “I’m—shit, I’m close.”
You didn’t stop. If anything, you doubled down, your tongue tracing the underside of his cock as you took him all the way to the back of your throat. That was all it took. With a sharp cry, his body tensed, and he spilled into your mouth, a broken groan tearing from his lips as he came undone.
You swallowed, pulling back slowly and wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. Theo’s chest was heaving, his hair a tousled mess as he leaned heavily against the counter, staring down at you like you’d just knocked the wind out of him.
“Holy fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair. “You’re insane.”
You stood, smirking as you leaned in close, your lips brushing his ear. “Took you long enough to figure it out.”
He grabbed your hips in one quick motion, lifting you onto the counter like you weighed nothing. “Oh, I’ve figured it out now,” he murmured, his voice still rough, but his smirk returning full force. “But I’m not nearly done with you yet.”
Theo’s hands gripped your waist as he pulled you flush against him, his mouth crashing into yours. The kiss was frantic, his tongue brushing against yours as he poured every ounce of leftover tension into it. His hands wandered, sliding up your bare back, fingers tracing the curve of your spine before tangling in your hair to tilt your head back.  
“You’re too fucking good at this,” he muttered against your lips, his voice low and thick. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”  
“Maybe,” you teased, your voice breathless as his teeth grazed your bottom lip.  
He chuckled darkly, nipping at the corner of your jaw before trailing kisses down the column of your neck. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”  
“Pretty sure I am,” you quipped, your hands threading through his hair.  
Theo groaned, his lips dragging over your collarbone. His hands skimmed your sides, his thumbs brushing under the waistband of your jeans. “We’ll see how clever you are when you’re begging me to let you cum.”  
Before you could retort, he lifted and spun you around in one swift motion, your palms landing on the counter as he pressed your hips into the sink. You gasped, his chest flush against your back as he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear.  
“Guarda te stessa,” he murmured, his tone dripping with sin. (Look at yourself.)  
Your gaze lifted to the mirror, meeting your reflection. Your hair was disheveled, lips swollen from his kisses, chest rising and falling rapidly. Behind you, Theo was watching you with hooded eyes, his hair mussed and his pupils blown with lust.  
“Sei bellissima così,” he said, his hands sliding down to unbutton your jeans. (You’re so beautiful like this.)  
He pushed the denim down your legs, letting it pool at your ankles, and you kicked them off the rest of the way. His hands found your hips again, sliding over the curve of your ass as his lips pressed to your neck.  
“You’re already so worked up,” he murmured, his fingers slipping between your thighs to brush over the damp fabric of your panties. “Fuck, you’re soaking.”  
“Do something about it, then,” you shot back, your voice shaking slightly.  
Theo grinned, his fingers curling into the waistband of your underwear. “Impatient, aren’t we?” He dragged them down slowly, letting them join your jeans on the floor.  
His hand slid between your legs again, this time bare against your skin, and you gasped as he slipped a finger inside you, his touch teasing and deliberate.  
“Così stretto,” he muttered, his breath hot against your ear. (So tight.)  
You whimpered, pressing your hips back against him as he added a second finger, curling them just right. His other hand gripped your hip, holding you steady as he worked you open with slow, calculated strokes.  
“Merda, sei perfetta,” he said, his voice rough. (Fuck, you’re perfect.)  
You moaned, your head tipping forward, but he clicked his tongue, his hand moving to your chin to tilt your face back up.  
“Guarda il specchio,” he ordered. “Voglio vederti quando vengo dentro di te.” (Look in the mirror. I want to see you when I come inside you.)  
Sure, you didn’t understand a word of what he was saying, but fuck, you couldn’t get enough of him talking to you like that. You didn’t fight against his hand, meeting his intense gaze in the mirror.  
Theo pulled his fingers away, and you heard the rustle of fabric as he kicked his trousers the rest of the way off. A moment later, his hands were on your hips again, guiding you back against him. You felt the head of his cock brush against your entrance, and he groaned, low and guttural, as he pushed inside.  
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, his grip tightening as he bottomed out. “You feel incredible.”  
Your hands braced against the counter as he began to move, slow and deliberate at first, his hips rolling against yours in a rhythm that made your knees weak. He muttered something in Italian, his voice low and breathless, but you couldn’t make it out over the sound of your own moans.  
“Che puttana carina,” he said, his teeth grazing your shoulder as he snapped his hips harder. (What a pretty little slut.)  
You gasped, the words only spurring you on as you pushed back against him, meeting each thrust.  
“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice rough and teasing. “To be fucked like this?”  
“Yes,” you managed to say, your voice breaking as he hit a spot that had you seeing stars.  
“Good girl,” he murmured, his hand sliding up to grip the back of your neck, holding you in place. “Take it all, bella. Sei mia.” (You’re mine.)  
His thrusts grew faster, harder, and the bathroom filled with the sound of skin against skin, mingled with your moans and his curses in both English and Italian. You caught snippets of his words—“così stretta”, “troppo perfetta”, “dammi tutto”—and each one sent a new wave of heat coursing through you.  (so tight, too perfect, give me everything)
Your legs trembled as the pressure built, your release teetering just out of reach. Theo seemed to sense it, one hand slipping between your thighs to circle your clit as he drove into you.  
“Come for me,” he murmured, his voice raw. “Let me feel you.”  
His words sent you over the edge, your body shattering around him as a cry tore from your throat. Theo groaned, his hips stuttering as he followed you moments later, spilling into you with a shuddering moan.  
For a moment, the only sound was your heavy breathing, the two of you leaning against the counter, spent and satisfied. Theo pressed a lazy kiss to your shoulder, his tongue swirling over the skin and his hands roaming over your waist as he caught his breath.  
“You’re my type,” he muttered, his voice still rough but laced with affection.  
You smirked, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Yeah, I fuckin’ better be.”
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​​ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind @revesephemeres @esmerai-artemis @clar2aa @iamaconfusedpan
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cameronwillow · 3 days ago
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Perverted
Brothers best friend! Rafe Cameron x fem reader
Your brother Barry doesn’t want to pick you up from Rafe Cameron’s house. The guy you’ve been obsessed with, even doing questionable things about it. But as Rafe drives you home, he decides to go another way and change your relationship.
Reuploaded!
Warnings! Female masturbation! Cum eating! Virgin! Reader! Daddy kink! Oral, female recieving, unprotected sex and overall filth.
Sneaking into Rafe Cameron’s room was probably a bad idea but your brother Barry already told you he wasn’t going to pick you up tonight if you went to this party. So, Rafe offered you a ride home a few minutes ago and you made up an excuse that you needed to powder your nose. When really…you needed a souvenir.
You tip toed around, finding his desk and you took one of his pens. You shoved it in your purse and quickly exited, shutting his door. Rushing out of the house, your short black skirt rode up as you jogged to his car. A spike of adrenaline heat your veins as you opened the passenger door, your heart pounding. It wasn’t the first time you’d taken something of Rafe’s. Not by a long shot. And one time…when you came over, you overheard him jerking off in his room, riding his pillow. When he left, you went inside and licked up his mess.
The collection of pens you took, a shirt and pair of boxers, you used to touch yourself with. Creaming all over anything of his you could get. You slide in the seat, listening to the music coming from Rafe’s radio and glances over to you. You look down, seeing your skirt hiked up so high you can almost see your panties underneath but you leave it.
“You remember my address, right?” You ask and he nods.
“Mhm, been there before remember?” He says and pulls out of the driveway. You’re mindful not to bite your lip not wanting to smear your lipstick but your nerves cause your knee to bounce as he starts to take another way to your house.
“Thought you knew how to get there.” You mumble and look at him. Rafe smirks, his SnapBack secure on his head as his muscular hand grips the steering wheel.
“I do, baby. Don’t play dumb. You know what I’m doin.” He chuckles as your cheeks heat up and you swallow.
With all your dirty thoughts, skilled fingers that knew your body well and foul mouth whenever you imagined this moment, the reality always managed to slip your mind.
You’re a virgin.
No one knew and they wouldn’t believe you if you said. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to fuck anyone rather it was that you wanted to fuck Rafe. And you waited. You gave it time. Made sure to always be around whenever Barry spoke to him, despite your brother’s clear distain for the idea, and you managed to get an invite to this party tonight.
Rafe pulled into an empty parking lot, one not too far away from your neighborhood and he shut off the car. You took a deep breath, mustering the courage to look at him again.
“You went in my room again, didn’t you?” The glint in his eye made you aware that lying wouldn’t work.
“I can explain-“ You stammer but he starts laughing and leans in close.
“Yeah? And how’s that, princess? Why don’t you explain to me what you did with my shit you stole?” Your face burns from getting caught but the way he looks at you, hungrily and bordering on desperate makes you grab the back of his head. You slam your lips to his in a searing, heated kiss and you shove your tongue in his mouth.
Rafe moans before his palm firmly grips your ass, pulling you across the seat and sitting you on top of his lap. He nips your lower lip before smacking your ass, sliding his hand up your back into your hair. “God damn, baby. Didn’t think you’d be so fucking aggressive,” He says against your mouth and you grind down on his covered cock.
Your fingers tangle in his hair and you pull his head back, lips finding his neck. You drag your tongue along his skin before sucking underneath his jaw. Rafe reached underneath your skirt, ripping your panties off and his fingers swirled your swollen pulsing clit. You didn’t expect him to be slow with you and you didn’t want him to. You wanted him and your slick pussy fluttered as he tugged down his pants.
“I want you so fucking bad. Touching myself isn’t enough, baby. I need you-“ You whine as his cock slaps against his thigh and he taps the tip against your clit a few times.
“Yeah? You fuckin needy girl. Need my dick to fill you up and split you in half, baby girl?” With an inhale, you sink down and your eyebrows pinch together from the pressure.
You accidentally make a wincing noise before Rafe’s fingers slip inside your mouth, making you drool on them as your discomfort morphs into pleasure. His dick drives into you, hard and deep as you bounce on him, your ass moving as your hands settle on the seat.
“That’s it, princess. Bounce on daddy’s cock, cream on it. Being such a good little slut for me, huh?” His words make your cunt pulse around him as you rock your hips harder, your clit rubbing against his shaft. You were already getting close.
Your moans shift into whimpers as your eyes squeeze shut, your orgasm hitting you quickly as you shriek and tremble on his dick. Rafe makes a surprised noise but he keeps thrusting upward, his wet fingers wrapping around your neck.
“That good, huh? Cumming already?” Rafe’s movements speed up and soon you feel his creamy substance spill into you, your pussy pooling as you squeal. Your head falls into his neck and your hands find his chest.
You both sit there and breathe heavily for a few seconds before you start to climb off him. But when you glance down, you see a small amount of blood on your inner thighs. Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you a virgin? Were you a virgin?”
You swallow and nod making him groan.
“Fuck, baby. Why didn’t you say?”
“Why would it matter? It felt good,” You begin but Rafe makes you stop short by leaning forward, his eyes flickering to your lap.
“Princess, we can do better than a quickie in my fuckin car. Hold tight, I’m taking you back to my house.” He starts the car and you pull out your phone, seeing texts from Barry.
“And tell Barry you’ll be home tomorrow.”He adds making you smirk as you click off your phone.
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When you get to Rafe’s room, he wastes no time lifting you up and tossing you on the bed. You rise to your elbows, skirt riding up to expose your bare cunt. He leans down, resting his hands on your knees, tugging your knee socks. “Fuckin perv. Stealing my shit, riding me in the car only to be a little virgin?” he shakes his head with a dark chuckle before yanking you forward, spreading your legs apart.
“Gonna taste this pussy, princess. Lick up all the cum since you’re being a fuckin slut for me,” He shoves his face in your pussy, tongue flicking against your clit before sucking it between his soft lips. Your head throws back against the bed and your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling hard.
He moans and moves his head around, shoving his tongue inside you before lewdly lapping your swollen center. “You taste so fuckin good, baby. I want you to cum on my face, ride my jaw like the good whore you are,” He offers a slap to the side of your ass.
You hump his face, tits bouncing from how hard you’re moving as he slurps and sucks you. Rafe adds two fingers inside, curling them to hit the sweet spot in you. You cry out, cumming all over his mouth and fingers, giving him more slick as he tongue fucks you through it. “Good fucking girl, Angel.” He praises before pulling away, sucking his fingers clean.
“Fuck me again, daddy. I need you inside me,” You pull him down on top of you, kissing him and tasting the leftover cum. Rafe sucks on your tongue before he presses your knees to your chest and manages to take off his pants.
He smears your arousal with the tip of his dick before he slides it down to your entrance and your cunt takes him in effortlessly.
The angle he has you makes him move so deep inside you, it almost feels like you’ll burst but your eyes roll back as his balls slap against your ass. Rafe’s free hand wraps around your throat as he rocks his pelvis in and out, “shit, princess, you feel so fucking good. Nobody else gets to touch you but me. Say it,”
“No one else,” You whimper as he pounds into you.
Rafe captures your lips in a kiss, sucking your lower lip as you get close to your third release. “Mhm, you’re a freak, huh? I can fuckin tell. I’m gonna make those dirty thoughts come true, baby. You won’t have to sneak in here anymore, just use me whenever you want.”
He cums inside you and your own peak follows almost at the same time. Your sounds mix with his thick moans as he lets go of your throat; moving to squeeze your tit as he pushes his seed deeper in you. “You’re mine now, princess. Gonna fuck you all night. Can’t get enough of this sweet pussy,”
Dividers by @starkeysprincess and @cxrrodedcoffin
Tagging: @bloodibambiidoll @cxrrodedcoffin @starkeysprincess @sturnioloshacker @hornyxdreams @redhead1180 @rafeyscurtainbangs @rafesangelita @cameronsprincess @starkeysbabygirl @stillwjk-channie-lixie @oceanblvd111 @oceandriveab @that-sarcastic-writer @marchsfreakshow
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thedandeliongarden · 2 days ago
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I actually have to disagree with your conclusions.
Have you ever fought against flexible weapons?
Back when I was doing HEMA, I sparred against training versions of a 2 handed flail, and let me tell you, they are genuinely a right bastard of a weapon, chiefly in the fact that you cannot defend against them normally:
if you intercept a strike via the head it may flip around and you get clonked by the pole and/or the head, not uncommonly in the face.
If you intercept the pole, the head may swing around your guard and slap you in the head
Additionally “rock on a rope” is a historical and historically effective weapon. I personally know it from a specific german husband vs wife trial by combat (it’s a whole thing that shows up in the combat manuals, don’t ask) but it pops up elsewhere (usually earlier on in history iirc) and making said rock sharp metal is hardly going to make it less effective
So let me address your points, such as they are:
Firstly, all “wunderwaffe” in the original context of the word were ineffective money-sinks that harmed the nazi war effort, helping the allies close out the war faster. So it’s kind of odd to mock a historical (if unusual) weapon that did see actual use (the chinese ones were mostly a performance art, but 10 minutes on Wikipedia and you can find several weapons of the type (or at least, that were used specifically because of features you mocked) that were used in warfare) in the same vein as what I can only describe as the most famous set of failures in military science.
The next thing of note is that it’s entirely idiotic to claim a weapon could only ever be effective against a target simulator. Your various criticisms sound like someone whose just been told about plumbata and goes on a rant about how superior throwing axes are by comparison - you’re kind of just ignoring any benefits, somehow completely missing the actual downsides, and concluding that someone who just absolutely nailed 3 targets in a row couldn’t do that to your face because you’d totally move out the way.
So let me cover some actual ground here
the main benefit of “throwing weapon on a string” is that you can retrieve it after you throw it and throw it again - will it be worse on an individual throw? Maybe, but you can throw it again
For the major offensive benefit as a melee weapon, I refer you to my earlier commentary on how fucking annoying it is to try and defend against flexible weapons. I imagine the exact physics works out differently for a weight on a rope than what is fundamentally a long stick attached to a shorter stick, but either way this can absolutely can wrap around your defence in unpredictable/unintuitive ways
You really need to account for the continuous force going into the rope from the wielder. It’s not a limp noodle when it’s being put under tension the whole time, and it won’t behave like a whip from indiana jones
Ok so I think that broadly covers the odd set of criticisms you had, so what about the actual disadvantages of the weapon? Why didn’t it see more widespread use?
Formations and collateral. The bow supplanted the sling because you could put more soldiers in the same area if you used bows. Skirmishers are a little different (and afaik did retain slingers for longer) but main formations wanted to be as dense as possible for most of the history of warfare. And uh. yeah. look it doesn’t take a genius to see how much space you need to use a rope dart to its maximum potential
Skill requirements. There’s a reason it was a performance art, that shit’s impressive - and takes a long time to learn. Much like dual wielding in the sense of two similar sized swords, even though there genuinely are advantages in some situations, learning to do it to a baseline level of competence (i.e without hitting yourself) is dramatically more difficult with flexible weapons than with literally anything else. And so you will only very rarely see this as an army level weapon for the same reason crossbows supplanted regular archery - it just costs more to train the soldiers (english/welsh archery is a notable exception to this rule achieved by a country-wide law prohibiting other sports on sundays, which is kind of insane behaviour but it did work).
Armour. This one’s more of a hunch, but I suspect this is one of the weapon types (like cut-centric swords, clubs, and really any number of weapons) that are disproportionately countered by armour. I think some actual testing would need to be done to confirm, and I cannot stress enough that for most of history that level of armour was not a factor
So yeah. Sure, not a common weapon, and not one commonly used in warfare (at least in china) but until you have actually done some sparring with someone with baseline competence in rope darts, please don’t show your ass by claiming they must be totally useless
Oh, and before I forget - nunchucks were a way around weapon prohibition laws. It’s wrong to compare them to weapons of war, you have to compare them to other concealable civilian weapons like knuckledusters. You have to tune out modern ninja mythos if you want to have useful opinions on weapons involved in it
Demonstrating the rope dart (繩標; sheng2biao1)
[eng by me]
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childrenofcain-if · 2 days ago
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That one scenario where C and MC have a kid has my heart completely 😭 Can we get a follow up for that? How are things going on in the joint household? I'm also very curious to see what C would name their kid 🤭
the hershey’s kisses glinted in the late afternoon sun, crinkled foil catching the golden light that streamed in through the window. aster sat cross-legged on the sofa, a small island of contentment in the messy sprawl of school bags and discarded socks she’d left in her wake.
she was humming under her breath as she unwrapped another piece of chocolate, oblivious to the way her shoes lay in two opposite corners of the room and how her lunchbox sat precariously balanced on the edge of the coffee table.
you leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee and watching her with the detached amusement of a parent who knows they’ll have to clean up the mess but hasn’t yet summoned the energy to do so.
C was in the armchair, one foot propped on the edge of the ottoman, clicking through their macbook with half an eye on aster. it was domesticity in its sweetest form, the kind you don’t think about when you’re young and idealistic, imagining love and family like perfect polaroids on a wall.
“did you give her those?” C asked suddenly, their voice louder than the hum of the dishwasher in the kitchen.
you blinked and set your coffee down, moving closer to inspect the crumpled foil wrappers littered around aster.
“nope,” you said after a beat. “not exactly either of our flavor. that’s… what is that, cherry? we don’t have those in the house.”
C arched a brow, and without missing a beat, turned their full attention to your daughter.
“aster,” they said, voice soft but with a worried edge, “where did you get the chocolates?”
aster’s head snapped up, her chalcedony green eyes lighting up with excitement.
“felix gave them to me!” she said, her grin wide enough to show the little gap where her front tooth had fallen out last week.
C froze, their hand tightening slightly on the edge of their macbook. you, on the other hand, were far more amused.
“felix, huh?” you said, crouching slightly to meet aster’s eye level. “and who’s felix again?”
her grin grew impossibly wider as she happily declared: “my boyfriend!”
you chuckled, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “oh, really? you have a boyfriend now, kleine ster? when did this happen?”
“this morning actually!” aster exclaimed, bouncing a little on the cushions. “he gave me the chocolates at recess and said he liked me, and i said i liked him too, and now we’re boyfriend and girlfriend!”
C’s eye twitched, a muscle jumping just beneath the surface. they sat up straighter, their attention now fully honed on your seven-year-old’s revelation.
“did he now?” they said, their voice tight. “and what else did this... felix boy say?”
aster frowned, confused by the sudden shift in tone. “uh… he said i could have the last red crayon in art class.”
“generous of him,” they muttered darkly, looking distinctly unimpressed.
“C,” you said warningly, but they ignored you, leaning forward with the intense focus of someone about to conduct an interrogation.
“and does this felix… hold your hand?” they asked, their tone too casual to be actually genuine.
“sometimes,” aster admitted, her brows knitting together.
C’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “does he share his lunch with you?”
“yeah, today he gave me his oreos!”
C’s jaw twitched. you pinched the bridge of your nose.
“C,” you said again, a little louder this time. “let it go, darling. they’re just kids.”
but they were too far gone now, leaning forward as though proximity might grant them any sort of control over the situation.
“aster,” they said with all the solemnity of someone at a funeral, “you can’t have a boyfriend. you’re too young. your brain isn’t fully developed. you’ll... you’ll explode! you’ll leave your parents all alone then and it’ll make us very sad.”
aster blinked at them, unwrapping another hershey’s kiss with deliberate slowness.
“i will explode?” she asked, clearly confused by this turn of events.
you rolled your eyes. “no, you wo—”
“yes, you will,” C insisted, cutting you off. “and anyway, you’re not allowed to date anyone until you’re like 30 and paying taxes. it’s a rule.”
“that’s not a rule,” aster said with the stubborn certainty of someone who knew she was right. she really was her parents’ daughter. “and felix is a good boy.”
“‘good,’” C muttered under their breath, glaring at the imaginary felix as though he was lurking in the shadows, waiting to hand their precious little star another chocolate. “i’m going to fight this seven-year-old.”
“C!” you snapped, stepping between them and placing a hand on C’s shoulder. “calm down, my love. it’s harmless.”
C leaned back reluctantly, their gaze flicking between you and aster, who was now watching them like they’d sprouted a second head.
“fine,” they grumbled, crossing their arms over their chest.
***
after dinner, aster sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room, her brow furrowed in concentration as she examined a tiny instruction manual for building LEGOs with the intensity of someone decoding the human genome. her fingers, small but deft, picked up pieces and slotted them into place, her movements sure and deliberate.
C sat beside her, their long legs folded awkwardly beneath them, one hand bracing their bad knee. their fingers worked slower than hers, more hesitantly. the gap between them—her bright enthusiasm, their cautious quiet—was almost laughable. but C didn’t laugh.
they watched her instead.
aster had inherited their stubbornness, the precision of their thoughts, the way they spoke with certainty even when they were wrong, the hard-headed refusal to back down in the face of a challenge. but she’d also inherited your warmth, your easy charisma, the way people seemed to orbit around you like you were some kind of gravitational force.
she was both of you, but neither of you. something wholly her own. and she shone so brilliantly.
“non,” aster said suddenly, shaking her head. she spoke in a tone that was equal parts exasperated and amused, the way one might speak to a child who couldn’t quite grasp a simple concept. “that piece goes here. look.” she leaned over, plucking a flat blue brick from the pile and snapping it into place on the half-constructed spaceship.
“ah,” C said, their lips quirking into a faint smile. “of course, petite étoile. how foolish of me.”
she beamed proudly, her confidence growing with each small victory.
“it’s okay. you’re still learning,” she said magnanimously, patting their arm. honestly, it amused C greatly to see her reflect you back when you both argued everyday like your life depended on it.
C snorted, shaking their head. “merci, mademoiselle.”
“pas de problème,” she replied breezily, her accent and pronunciation impeccably like a parisian native.
C felt a pang of pride so sharp it was almost painful. french had been one of their gifts to her, a piece of their heritage they had handed down like an heirloom. and she had taken to it effortlessly, as if it had always been hers.
she slipped between languages with a grace that left C in awe, her young mind absorbing everything like a sponge.
“wat is dit?” she asked suddenly, holding up a strange piece they hadn’t encountered yet.
“hmm,” you said from where you were sprawled on the couch, your legs stretched out and a book resting on your chest. you barely looked up as you answered her in dutch, explaining what the piece was and where it might fit.
aster nodded thoughtfully, her small fingers turning the piece over as she considered its possibilities. C watched her, their heart swelling with a mixture of love and disbelief.
how could someone so small hold so much brilliance? how could she be so much more than they had ever dared to imagine for themself?
“do you think felix likes LEGOs?” aster asked suddenly, breaking their reverie. she was staring at them now, her eyes—C’s eyes, pale green and perceptive—narrowed in thought.
C felt their jaw tighten at the mention of the boy, the ghost of their earlier irritation flickering to life.
“i have no idea,” they said evenly, focusing on the spaceship.
aster tilted her head, clearly unconvinced by their tone.
“he’s nice,” she said firmly, as though this simple fact should erase all of C’s doubts.
“i’m sure he is,” C said, their tone carefully neutral.
you glanced up from your book, smirking slightly as you watched the exchange. let it go, your eyes seemed to say.
but it wasn’t that simple.
it wasn’t about this felix boy, not really. it was about aster, about the inexorable passage of time, about the impossibility of holding on to something as fragile and fleeting as childhood. she was growing up, and there was nothing C could do to stop it.
C reached for another LEGO brick, their fingers brushing against aster’s. she looked up at them, her eyes bright with curiosity.
“tu vas bien?” she asked, her voice soft and earnest.
the question caught them off guard. for a moment, they didn’t know how to respond. how could they explain the tangled mess of emotions that had been simmering inside them all day? how could they tell her that the thought of her growing up terrified them in a way they couldn’t quite articulate?
“i’m fine, petite étoile,” they said eventually, forcing a smile. “just tired.”
she seemed to accept this, turning her attention back to the spaceship. but C couldn’t help noticing the small furrow in her brow, the way her hands moved more slowly now, as if she was trying to puzzle something out.
they watched her in silence, their heart aching with a strange, bittersweet kind of love.
***
later, when the spaceship was complete and aster had been tucked into bed, C found themself sitting on the edge of your shared bed, their head in their hands.
“okay,” you said, sitting beside them. “do you want to talk about what exactly is bothering you, my love?”
they sighed, looking up at you now.
“it’s just… strange,” they said, their voice low and tired. “she’s growing up so fast. too fast. i feel like i blinked, and suddenly she’s not my little girl anymore.”
you stayed quiet, letting them find the words.
“i still remember holding her in my arms for the first time,” they continued, their voice thick with emotion. “i remember her first steps, her first word, the first time she looked at me and called out for me. and now… now she’s talking about boyfriends and whatnot.”
they let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through their hair. “i didn’t have this. a proper childhood. a father who cared. i don’t know what i’m doing half the time. i just… i look at her, and i love her so much it terrifies me. so much so that i still don’t understand how my father could—”
“hey,” you interrupted gently, placing a hand on their arm. “you’re nothing like him. you’re such a wonderful parent, C. she loves you so much. you can see it every time she looks at you. and yeah, it’s hard watching her grow up. but that’s the deal. you love them, and you let them go, little by little, so they can become who they’re meant to be.”
C nodded slowly, their eyes softening as they looked at you. “i know you’re right.”
you leaned in, pressing a kiss to their temple. “of course i’m right, i always am.”
they rolled their eyes, but a small, tired smile tugged at the corners of their mouth.
“do you think…” they hesitated, the tips of their ears turning adorably red. “do you think we should have another one?”
“another what?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
they scowled, burying their face in your neck.
“you know what i mean,” they mumbled, their voice muffled. “don’t make me say it out loud.”
you laughed, stroking their hair. “we’ll talk about it in the morning.”
but you already knew the answer.
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robinsgrl · 2 days ago
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FEARLESS
chapter three. boobs and beers
pairing ⇢ rafe cameron x plus size!reader
word count ⇢ 4.7k
warnings ⇢ fatphobia, insecurities, mention of a panic attack, boobies lol, uhmmmmm shopping as a fat girl, heather should be her own warning, daddy issues, mentions of alcoholism.
authors note ⇢ heyyyyy….. im sick and i am soooo fatigued but i wanted to release this, i’ve been spoiling the kildare nights readers and i needed to give fearless some attention. sorry for any mistakes queens, love you guys! gimme ur thoughts!!
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“Why are we here?” You ask as he plops down onto the seat across from you at the mall food court. He slides over a cup of fro-yo at you. A frown falls to your lip when you take a peek in it. “You get plain fro-yo?”
His eyebrows furrow, shrugging. “Yeah?”
You scoff in pure disbelief as you glance into his own cup. Plain chocolate. “That’s… like… a crime.”
Getting up off your cold metal seat, you pick his cup as well and walk back into the frozen yogurt shop. The cute worker behind the register has a bored expression on her face until she spots you. A bright smile falls onto your face, as does hers, as you meet each other. “Heather.”
“Gorgeous!” She squeals happily as you walk over to the register with the tall guy trailing after you, watching the two of you curiously.
“My friend here, he doesn’t know the art of fro-yo. Is there any way we can add some toppings? Promise I’ll pay for every cent.” You ask her sweetly. The red head nods happily, ushering you to go on in.
You can feel Rafe’s eyes on you as you walk over to the toppings station. A wave of embarrassment flushes through you as you realize something. This makes you look fat. You are. You are a big girl but you try and hide it. With big sweaters, baggy jeans, eating small portions when out— not showing others that you come to the fro-yo place so often that the cashier knows you by name.
“My dad and I come here all the time.” You don’t mean for your words to sound so defensive but it’s what you’ve had to do most of your life. Defend yourself. “It’s the one thing he can afford.”
His eyebrows furrow, head tilting gently. You realize he’s not one for many words but his looks say a lot. He’s curious about you. And confused. “Isn’t your dad rich?”
You take a quick peek at him and feel a weight lift off your shoulders when you see his eyes have moved to scour the toppings. “Anthony isn’t my dad.”
He nods, ahh-ing. “Right, he’s your step-dad. What about your real father?”
You shrug lamely, not really wanting to talk about him. “Nothing. We just like fro-yo. Are you seriously putting Graham crackers in your fro-yo?” You ask, eyes wide and with a glint of disgust at his choice.
His eyes squint with annoyance as he looks up at you. “What’s wrong with Graham crackers?”
“Everything.” You reach over the toppings and scoop up a spoonful of gummy bears. “Graham crackers are like… green peppers on your pizza.”
This gets a reaction out of him. “You don’t like green peppers on your pizza?”
You scoff out a laugh, “I don’t know how we’re gonna get along with all these differences between us.” Your tone is playful as you speak this. You reach over and grab a few maraschino cherries and plop them on your fro-yo.
“Now that, I can get behind.” He scoops up the cherries and loads them into his cup. He’s scooping up Oreo crumbles beside you as you take him in. There’s a slight stubble growing on his jaw, a green baseball cap on top of his head. He's a lot more laidback than you’ve ever seen. He's usually in khakis and polo shirts. Today, he’s wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a baggy hoodie, with thick sneakers that you’re sure cost a fortune.
“You know,” you speak up after a moment, his eyes turning to you. You can’t make eye contact, eyes looking everywhere but his eyes. “We’re twins.”
“What?”
You point to his clothing and yours. You’re wearing baggy jeans and a baggy hoodie. “We’re dressed alike.” The two of you are done and back at the register, weighing your cups for the price. Heather begins ringing you two up and you’re about to swipe your credit card when he beats you to it. “I had that.”
But he ignores you as the payment goes through and Heather wishes you two a good day. “First things first,” you’re walking down the mall side by side, eating your fro-yo. “You need to stop dressing like me.”
“Hey, this is comfortable.” You defend yourself.
“Comfortable won’t get you anywhere. You have to show some cleavage every now and then.”
This offends you, a scoff leaving your mouth. You’re glaring up at him but he doesn’t seem to care, eyes moving to and fro, checking the mall out. “Why do I need to do that?”
“Real talk?” He asks you, eyeing you as if trying to see if you’ll get offended or not.
You take a deep breath in and nod. “You look like a little boy.”
You should be offended. But you can’t. Instead, a laugh bubbles out of you and you have to cover your mouth to hide it. “N-no, no I don’t.” But you don’t believe your own words. You sigh, eating another spoonful of fro-yo. “Okay thine.” If your mother were here you’d be getting a scold for talking with your mouth full.
Rafe simply rolls his eyes at the sight and hands you a napkin which you happily take. You chew on your cold gummy bears for a moment before speaking again. “Fine. I’m guessing that’s why we’re here?” You look around the mall with a soft and annoyed huff. “Where to first, sensei?”
You can see he’s visibly holding back a smile when he says— “Victoria Secret.”
The store is unbelievably pink. But your eyes flicker about the store and the mannequins with a sparkle to your eyes. You’d never stepped foot in this place unless Scarlett was at your side. Nothing about you ever felt sexy and she came here to feel sexy. So you never found your footing in the store. And now, with Rafe at your side, you feel even worse. Surface level, you only see undergarments for skinny people. Smaller people. And the idea of not finding anything and Rafe watching you get shut down makes you dread the rest of your day.
“Never seen someone look at mannequin boobs and frown.” You’re brought out of your painstakingly insecure thoughts at the sound of Rafe’s voice. You peek up at him and are surprised to see a softer look to him. Well, as soft as Rafe Cameron can get. “Seriously, it’s just bra shopping. And pantie shopping. I thought girls went crazy for this shit.”
“Okay, misogyny.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. To anyone else, it would look like a natural pose but you’re hiding your chest, as if that would stop this from happening. “I’m just… shouldn’t I do something else before shopping?” You hope he understands what you mean.
But he doesn’t. He shakes his head, “nah.” His nonchalant response sends a twinge of annoyance through you, biting down on the inside of your cheek. He starts making his way into the store, too much interest in his face when you call out to him.
“Seriously, Rafe, I’m too big for this.” This stops him in his steps turning to you with a look on his face that you can’t decipher. Not that you ever can, Rafe Cameron is an incredibly hard person to read.
“There’s a plus-size section.” Are his words and you feel a wave of heat come over you. Your mouth twitches as you try to hide the shame you’re feeling. But it seems you and Rafe don’t have that in common— you wear your feelings on your face.
“Look before we… I should probably, I don’t know… lose some weight.” Is your response to him, eyes refusing to meet him at all.
He sighs loudly, and you sneak a glance at him to see him rubbing the inner corner of his eyes with what you think is annoyance. And this only worsens your intense feelings of insecurity. And he speaks, “you don’t need to lose weight to be hot, ___. You’ve got a stunning body, you just have to know how to work it.”
Your eyes widen as they meet him for the first time in a while. And oddly enough, you can see he’s telling the truth. You wanted to see a lie on his face. You wanted to be proved right and know that he’s just as disgusted by you as all the boys in your school. But you can’t find it. “Now, are you gonna keep fishing for compliments or are we gonna find a bra that makes your boobs pop?”
You bust out laughing at this, covering your face with your hands in a shy manner. “Fine, but you have to promise to never repeat the word Boobs to me. Like, ever again.”
“How about breasts?”
“Gross.”
One of the kind ladies in the shop finds a few pieces for you that fit well. Surprisingly, you have a good time. The lady is unbelievably kind and finds you matching sets. And you come to realize you’ve never had a positive female shopping experience.
Most of your shopping was done with Scarlett and your mother at your side. And they seemed to be the unstoppable duo that knew just how to put you down. Your mother would grab at your stomach when you tried on a shirt that didn’t fit quite right. “This is where you need to focus,” she’d point at the spots that she felt needed to be fixed. “Next time you’re at the gym, focus on this. Talk to my personal trainer, he’s there all the time.” You went to the gym the next day. Apparently, she had spoken to her trainer and he grabbed you in the same way your mother did. You never went back again.
Scarlett. She’d make it a competition. If you found a top that made your eyes crinkle with the thought of wearing it proudly, she’d find the smallest size there was and try it on. Once you’d see her walk out with a top you were carrying on your arm, you’d set it down. She puts you to shame every single time.
So, now that you’re in a new shop, wearing a new push-up bra that fits like a perfect corset for your chest, you feel anxious. Beyond anxious. There are people everywhere. Chats coming from every single direction. But the last thing you need is to have a panic attack in front of Rafe. You barely know the guy.
“Okay… so what now?” You ask, clearing your throat to push away the bad memories of the store.
“Now, we shop.”
It takes an hour. A long hour to walk throughout the store and have him pick out outfits for you. Having him know your size was absolutely terrifying. But he didn’t bat an eye as you told him and he jumped right into it. Every now and then, he’d find an ugly shirt and hold it up to you and he’d mutter a joke. Jonah would love this one, is his go to. And before you know it, you’re no longer on the verge of a breakdown.
You’re in the dressing room and for the first time in your life, you don’t worry about how you look. Or how the jeans fit you a little too snug around your hips. You don’t feel panic at the thought of trying clothes on in the stuffy dressing room.
You come out in the first outfit and Rafe immediately busts out laughing. The green jeans are ridiculously long and the top is a corset top with blue hand-drawn flowers on them and ridiculously large bows at the shoulder straps. You knew it was a joke outfit but it was nice to mess around.
You jokingly strut, pretending the room is a runway. “Keep it in your pants.” You laugh as you give him a spin and this only makes him laugh some more. You feel a sense of pride for making Rafe Cameron laugh. Sarah’s text flashes through your mind. A man who hasn’t smiled in years. And yet, he’s holding onto his side as you strike another odd pose.
“Alright, alright,” his smile is pretty, you notice. And contagious, unable to hide your own as you listen to him. “We need to get serious.” But he’s still chuckling. “Try on a real outfit this time.” So you do. He likes them all. A few shirts ride up over your belly a bit too much and some jeans don’t fit over your thighs but you leave the store with eight new outfits.
Usually, you leave with hurt feelings and nothing but.
You two are on the ferry back home when your day together is over. It’s a forty minute wade back but neither of you seem to care. He’s sipping his Big Gulp drink and watching as you try and balance the water bottle lid on your nose.
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to do.” There’s a tinge of amusement to his tone.
Your head is thrown slightly back as you keep trying but it’s to no avail, it keeps toppling over. With a huff, you pick the cap up and shove it into your pocket. “It’s a trick my dad usually pulls. It’s better with a quarter though.”
Avoiding the topic of your father is a skill you take pride in. Your mother always turns into a sobbing mess when you bring him up. Your step-dad isn’t ever really home and when he is, it’s awkward. The only person you could share him with was Scarlett. That was the one topic she never snarked at you over. Not to your face, at least.
“Can I ask?” You turn to him, criss cross on the bench that you two are sitting on, wind blowing your hair. You tuck a strand, nodding. “Where is your dad?”
“The cut.” You answer honestly. Your mother hides him from her new rich friends. She hides her past from all of her new rich friends. Her story isn’t as compelling as Ward Cameron’s. He built his way up. Your mother caught the attention of an older man and married him. She’s ashamed about it.
This seems to shock him but he’s not Rafe Cameron if he doesn’t try and hide it. “And you’re close?”
You shrug, turning to the cloudy sky. It’s easier to talk about hard things when you don’t have to look at anyone, you find. “We’re… we definitely have a relationship. But… it’s hard to build on it when my mother doesn’t know I’m talking to him.”
You can feel his eyes on you, mouth slightly parted as he takes your words in but you can’t turn to him. “She forbids you from seeing him?”
You hum a small ‘mhm’. “He’s a stain in her perfect life.”
“Not in yours?”
“He’s a…” you pause, searching for the proper words. “An escape. Like… in Coraline. The door. He’s my door to a… less suffocating world. Without the buttons, of course. And alcoholism.” You try to joke. He doesn’t find it funny, the look on his features softened and taking you and your words in. Letting them settle. “He’s not perfect. I get why my mom left him. Why she wanted better. He’s a drunk who can’t keep a steady job. When we go out, I buy us dinner. He couldn’t take care of my mom or me so…”
“So she found the next best thing.” He finishes off for you. You turn to him at this, nodding as your hair keeps blowing in the wind. You don’t feel exposed in the way you do when speaking of your father to anyone. Rafe’s not judging you or figuring out how to use it against you. His eyes are sincere. Face stoic, but his eyes are sincere. You hate eye contact but if it means getting a better grasp of Rafe, you’d never look away. And you don’t.
“What about you?” You ask with sincerity. “I heard the rumors. The Cameron men butting heads.” You admit sheepishly.
He sighs, turning away. It’s his turn to look away while speaking of the hard stuff in his life. He lays back on the bench seat, long legs stretched out and kicked back up on the rail. “Well… you know… fathers…” it doesn’t take much to see he doesn’t want to speak of it.
Instead, you nod, a small and sad laugh leaving you. “Yeah… fathers.”
The ferry stops at the port a while later after thirty minutes of talking about your classes to him. He’s dropping you off at home, bags of clothes at hand. “By the way, we’re going to a party tonight.” And he drives off, leaving you stumped.
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Debut one of your new outfits. What the fuck does that mean? You can’t picture yourself going to a party in clothes that aren’t your comfortable ones. Your comfort hoodie and sweats are what you spend most of your time in when out of school.
Getting ready without a friend is depressing. Usually, you’d have Scarlett at your side fluffing up your hair and helping with your makeup. Not that you wore it often but on the rare occasions that you needed to go to an event with your family, she was by your side. And it was during those moments that her honest side shined the brightest. She was careful with you. Honest but not brutal.
You shake your head to get yourself to stop thinking about her. You don’t want to be affected. You don’t want her to have this much of a hold over you. You need to stop loving her.
“Woah, what happened to you?” Anthony’s voice is heard as you make your way to the door. You freeze in your step, not wanting to see him. Your mother had gone on a so-called spiritual retreat in Puerto Rico without telling you so now, you were under Anthony’s care. But he didn’t have kids of his own and you came to him when you were twelve years old, he never had to take care of you.
You turn in your spot, a stiff smile on your face. “Uhm… nothing. Just… going out… to watch a movie…”
He gives you a bore expression, hand in a bag of chips. “You don’t put on a mini-skirt to watch a movie. You’re going to a party, aren’t you? God, you’re a baby, you shouldn’t be wearing that.”
You scoff, “bye, Anthony.” You open up the door and slam it as he’s telling you to be careful.
Rafe’s truck is in your driveway and he’s standing out of it, leaning up against the hood. His eyes are closed and he’s bopping his head gently, singing a quiet song. The sound of your shoes hitting the gravel of the driveway catches his attention, eyes immediately opening and on you.
Your smile is shy as you hold your arms out, showcasing your outfit. It’s a black mini skirt matched with a simple black and low cut top, a leather jacket over it. Simple. But extravagant for you. “So… how do I look?” You really, really want to know.
His eyes are taking you in. Starting from the shoes you picked out, to your thick thighs, your hips, your waist, your chest (which you’re proudly wearing your push-up he bought you), your neck. And he settles on your face. Done up in makeup, hair let loose in its natural form. He gets up off the hood of his car and walks up to you. “You look…” he pauses, eyes flickering across your face again. He's lost in thought, eyebrows furrowed slightly, tongue lightly ghosting his dry lips. You nervously put your weight on your other foot, and this awakens him. “Fine. You look fine.”
“Oh.” You didn’t expect much. But you also didn’t expect very little. “I mean… like, if Jonah were to see me do you think he’d be… starstruck and completely in love.”
This gets something out of him, a small snort of a laugh. “Give a girl a push up bra and she thinks she’s a goddess.”
“Hey!” You laugh with disbelief as you walk after him, the two of you making your way to his truck. “You told me I need to be more confident!” He opens the passenger door with no qualms and helps you in. He closes your side of the door and hops into the driver's seat. “Okay, so what’s the game plan?” You ask as he starts driving out of your driveway, hand stretched behind your seat and looking back for any other cars.
“The game plan is,” he turns the wheel, the veins in his arms popping slightly but you have to force yourself to look away and straight at the road as he starts driving off. “Act nonchalant. People are going to notice the style change but you’re going to ignore it. If they ask, you simply wanted to try something new. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“So… if they compliment me, I… ignore it?”
“You’re hopeless. No, I mean, accept the compliments but brush off other comments.”
“Okay, I’m confused.”
He huffs and before you know it, the two of you are bickering. Back and forth. What he means. What you mean. It’s almost hard to remember that just last week you two weren’t even in the same world. Now, you’re in his truck, wearing the new clothes he bought you and bickering.
The walk into the party is nerve-wracking and all you can think of is how your thick thighs are in the wind. Which means you’re much colder than usual you’re not used to being cold outside, always so wrapped up in your warm clothes. You stop at the patio of the raging house, looking up at Rafe. “So… this is where we part ways?”
This visibly confuses him. “What? Why would we part ways?”
You shrug, “I don’t know… I didn’t come to parties often but the few events I went with Heather… we would part ways.”
He scoffs, shaking his head. “That’s stupid. I’m here with you.”
“You don’t have to be a dick about it.”
“I’m not being a dick.”
“That’s you being a dick. I’m not stupid for—“
“I’m not calling you stupid, god.”
“You’re here!” A loud squeal pulls you out of your mini argument with Rafe. Your eyes meet a pair of familiar brown ones. Sarah rushes to you immediately and practically jumps into your arms. You laugh happily as you hug her right back.
“I’m here!”
She pulls away from you with a small pour. She’s drunk. Kiara comes out from behind her, pulling you into a quick side hug. “Guess who else is here?” Sarah’s voice is loud as the four of you walk into the home which is blasting with music.
“Who?”
“Scarlett.” This makes your blood run cold. That little piece of confidence that you carried vanished. You weren’t feeling yourself anymore. She’d see you in your new outfit and would make fun of you.
“We’ve got your back.” Kiara’s arm wraps around your shoulders as you walk side by side. “You won’t have to deal with her alone.”
“By the way, you look so damn good!” Sarah squeals as you all make your way into the kitchen where Kie grabs a few beers and tosses one each to the group. Rafe catches his beer easily and when he notices the slight panic in your face, he catches yours next, opening it quickly for you. You take the beer mindlessly, listening to Sarah drunkenly babble. Kiara’s entertaining her, laughing when she says something she shouldn’t say far too loudly. And you find yourself enjoying it.
You always dreaded parties. When a kid went around inviting everyone, they’d stop with you and Scarlett but only invite her. They would barely spare a glance at you. And at the time, you told yourself it didn’t matter. You’d rather be at home and cuddled up in bed with your cat, binge watching a show. But this… you like this. You like that Kiara and Sarah are bringing you into the conversation even when you’ve been quiet for minutes. You like that Rafe’s by your side like a scary guard dog. Well, you don’t really like that part so much. People are staring. They aren’t used to the Rafe Cameron not having a baddie on his arm.
Kiara and Sarah are in the middle of dancing a silly dance in the kitchen when you turn to Rafe. “No ones even noticing me.”
He snorts out a scoff of a laugh. “I’ve caught like eight guys since we came in, looking at your boobs.”
“Okay, first of all, that’s not anyone noticing me. That’s them noticing my girls. And second, I told you not to say boobs to me.”
“Boobs. Boobs. Boobs. Boobs.”
“God, shut up. You’re gross. There’s no need to— stop!” Back to your bickering, a laugh leaving you when he just won’t quit it.
You’re both in a comfortable space when a shrill of a voice cuts you two off.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” Time stands still for a second at the sound of Scarlett’s voice. You and your new friends immediately turn to look at her. And your eyes widen. You’re wearing the same skirt. A laugh bubbles out of Sarah and Rafe’s big hand covers her mouth to shut her up
“You know what I’m wearing.” You retort with a roll of your eyes. Heather angrily puts her red solo cup down, stomping closer to you.
“Do you know how embarrassing this is? You need to change!”
Kiara laughs at this. “Girl, get over yourself. It’s a skirt.”
Scarlett is very clearly exasperated. And upset. It’s weird seeing her so put off. Your eyes don’t leave her as she keeps throwing her tantrum. “It doesn’t even look good on you! You’re… you’re embarrassing yourself.”
Rafe is watching with an amused look to his face. He hadn’t seen the fight, only a few clips that were taken last minute. But he’d never seen them go head to head. And you know he’s been dying to. Rafe is many things but dramatically inclined was not one you had added to your list until recently.
You're about to answer. You’re about to fight back. You wouldn’t let her embarrass you in front of your new friends. Loud gasps and yells erupt when a drunk splashes onto Heather. “Dumb bitch!” It’s Sarah. She threw beer right at Heather’s face which is now dripping down to her clothes.
Scarlett, quick on her feet, grabs her own cup and tosses it. On you. You gasp for air as it falls in your nose. “What the fuck, Scar?! I didn’t do shit?!”
“For not fighting your own fucking battles!” She yells, so angry that her face is red. Which you’re sure is from embarrassment as well. “You’re weak! Always have been and always will be!”
Kiara gets in between the two of you, “back the fuck up.” She hisses. “She’s with us now.”
Scarlett laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world. She looks behind Kiara and glares harshly at you. “Hanging with the pogues? Seriously? This is a new level of trashy. Even for you.”
“Alright, alright,” it’s rafe now that grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. “You guys are very dramatic.” He tells you as he takes to the other side of the house in the living room.
But you’re frowning. It’s hard not to be upset. And you’re dripping with beer. “My outfit…” you pull your arm from his, stopping. In turn, this stops him and he turns to look down at your sad figure. “It’s ruined…”
He’s quiet. And you’re about to tell him it’s time to call it a night. His hand grabs your chin, making you look up at him. There’s a look of determination on his face, which shocks you greatly. “You’re not giving up. I’m gonna make sure Jonah sees you for the hot piece of ass you are, alright?”
His words send a hot flush through your body. You hate how shy you get when he’s nice. Or when he’s trying to be nice. Even during his kind moments, he’s abrasive. But you’re learning to take him as he is.
“Now, push those boobs up and be confident.”
“Stop saying boobs!”
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dontopenfairies · 2 days ago
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“Hey, what’s going on with you? Ohh, you’re pooping.” She grabbed his head and pulled it onto her lap. “Good boy for going in your diaper. Little baby, huh?” She reached her hand into the back of his shorts. “Wow, you really loaded it up this time. That’s a lot.”
She ran her fingers through his hair, grabbing it close to the scalp and tugging at it every so often. “Tell you what,” she said after a few moments of peace on her lap, “if you’re going to go that much why don’t I just change you into your overnight diaper early? Does that sound good?” He nodded against her lap and she started to stand up. He pulled his head up reluctantly and sat up on the couch.
She pulled him to his feet and he started to walk towards the bedroom. He didn’t make it very far before she grabbed his arms and pinned them to the sides of his body. “No way you’re walking. If you’re going to act so little I’m going to carry you.” With a little bit of struggle she managed to pick him up bridal style.
“You can lift me, but are you sure you can carry me to the bedroom?”
“Shh,” she said sternly, walking him out of the room and down the hallway. In the bedroom she let him down hard on his changing mat, a little rough, but not enough to knock the wind out of him.
He liked how rough she was being with him and she could tell, lifting his hips without warning.
Nothing eventful happened during the change except that he dribbled a little bit of pee, which was embarrassing. “Aw, you’re starting to have trouble controlling it,” she said.
Once he was all diapered again, she dressed him in pajamas and carried him back out to the living room. “See, working out is starting to pay off,” she said, letting him down on the couch and withdrawing her arms.
“Is that why you’re going to the gym so much now?” he asked. “Just so you can carry me?”
“I mean, it’s kind of a perk,” she said, sitting down next to him and pulling him onto her lap.
“Can it be the only reason?” he asked.
“Do you want it to be the only reason. Aw, you’re feeling super little right now, aren’t you?” She pet his hair away from his forehead and he closed his eyes, leaning into her shoulder. “Use your diaper anytime you want,” she said. “It’s a little early for it but I don’t mind changing you again. I mean, we haven’t even had dinner yet, and you know what usually happens after we eat dinner…”
“I have to go again after dinner,” he said.
“Yeah, you usually have to go again after we eat. But that’s okay. Here, drink a little bit of water.” She reached out for his water on the table and he clung onto her as she leaned forward. She flipped the cap off and held it up so he could drink. “You’re going to have a good day at work tomorrow, aren’t you? I bet you’ll sleep really good tonight after I baby you.”
“I’m already getting sleepy.”
“Uh-huh, aren’t you? I can tell. Stay awake so we can eat, okay?”
“I can stay awake. I just need to rest for a second…”
#oc
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rainbowsmagicandshit · 3 days ago
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Modern Merlin au anyone?
“Wait, you’re Emrys?” Arthur asks, befuddled. Merlin nods. “The one the druids practically worship?”
“Yep.”
“The one they speak of as the most powerful warlock to ever walk the earth? Magic incarnate? The protector of the Once And Future King?”
“That’s what they like to say about me, yeah,” Merlin answers with a casual nod.
“You.”
“Yeah me. Problem with that? Because I can just go if you don’t want me to deal with your griffin problem,” Merlin replies. Arthur purses his lips.
“…No. I just thought…”
“You just thought…” Merlin prompts, raising his eyebrows. Arthur looks to the side for a moment before meeting his eyes again.
“I just figured with all that you’d be older.”
“Hm. Magic doesn’t care much about age,” Merlin says. “Also you know that age spells exist, right? Can make someone both younger or older.”
“Oh?” Arthur asks, perking with interest. “So you just use magic to be younger. That makes sense.”
“No, I’m really this old. I was just saying,” Merlin says, and Arthur looks caught out. Merlin doesn’t try too hard to hide his amused smile. “Also, Emrys is more a title or stage name, you could say. I usually go by Merlin.”
“Right then. Merlin, it is,” Arthur says, clearing his throat.
“Yep. And your Arthur.”
“I’m the king,” Arthur says.
“I’m aware,” Merlin replies with a smile.
“Well, you can’t just call me that,” Arthur says.
“Oh, my apologies, my lord,” Merlin replies, giving a little bow, meeting Arthur’s eyes the entire time.
“Griffins are this way!” Arthur says, voice louder, and turning sharply, striding off. Merlin grins as he starts to walk after him. With a snap of his fingers, his white motorcycle morphs into a white dragon that shines under the sun and happily trots after him.
“She likes to play motorcycle,” he informs the gaping guards and knights as he pats Aithusa’s neck. Arthur looks back for a moment, eyes Aithusa, then continues forward. Merlin smiles as he walks with Aithusa at his side.
He wouldn’t normally take a job like this, his position as Emrys meaning it bad to align himself with a nation. But, Arthur is not an ordinary king, he is the Once And Future King. It is something only a very few know, not even Arthur himself is aware, but Merlin is looking forward to the future he’ll bring.
The legend they’ll make.
A king hired a new official court sorcerer expecting a elderly white haired human in a robe not a raven haired haired 20 something riding a motorcycle in a leather jacket and aviators but he can not deny their efficiency.
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