#you all don't to know how much I think about these two

[minarisplaything]

Flights (And) Feelings

pairing: Karina (Aespa) x Male Reader summary: just a quickie that was originally inspired by the airport photos when they first dropped, nothing crazy. tags: public/semi-public blowjobs word count: 2k

“Attention, passengers! We are now boarding flight 452 to Seoul. We kindly ask all passengers with priority boarding to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding passes ready and enjoy your flight. Thank you!”

"Isn't that your flight?" you asked.

The hand that was pulling you towards the bathrooms didn't stop. Instead she threw you a reassuring look over her shoulder. The sparkle in her eye behind her rimmed glasses suggested that she was no stranger to sneaking off.

"It'll be fine. Besides, I have Aeri to cover for me."

You weave your way through the airport unimpeded. A few people do a double take, as if to confirm that Karina from Aespa had just hurried past them, but by the time they had realized it, the two of you were already gone.

You briefly wondered how much Aeri knew about this but you had little time to linger on the thought. Before you knew it you were being shoved into a bathroom stall with the door locked as Karina joined you.

"Are we really doing this?" you asked, feeling just a bit paranoid.

"And wait until we get back to Seoul? I don't know when I'll have free time again," Karina reminded you, her hands already moving to your belt buckle.

"You've got a point there..."

"Plus, it's exciting right?" she smiled up at you, her nose brushing against yours. Sometimes you forgot how both goofy and filthy Karina could be at the same time. Though, if you needed a reminder it came in the form of her fingers curling around your cock. She gave you a few testing pumps.

"I think you've got your answer," you joked.

Her smile widened as she finished shoving down your pants and boxers.

"We have to be quick," she said.

"I thought you said you had time?"

"Are you questioning me wanting to suck your cock sooner?"

"Well, when you put it like that I sound silly..."

She smiled as she leaned up on her tiptoes, pressing a brief kiss to your lips.

"I like silly. Just try not to get too loud."

Karina’s hands left your waist for a moment, and you watched as she grabbed a handful of tissue paper from the dispenser. She knelt down, spreading the paper carefully on the floor like she was preparing a makeshift altar.

The fluorescent light above flickered slightly, casting a faint buzz that mingled with the hum of the airport outside. You could hear the distant echo of boarding announcements, the muffled chatter of passengers, and the occasional squeak of rolling luggage. But here, in this cramped stall, the world felt impossibly small—just you and her.

“This is crazy you know that?” you whispered.

Karina glanced up at you, her lips curling into that mischievous smile you knew so well. “Do you want me to stop?” Her fingers trailed up your thighs, teasing, as if daring you to say yes.

You didn’t.

Instead, you let out a shaky breath as she settled onto her knees, the tissue paper crinkling softly beneath her. Her hands found your hips, steadying you, and you could feel the warmth of her breath against your skin. It sent a shiver up your spine, one that made you grip the sides of the stall for balance.

“Someone’s anxious,” Karina said, her voice low and playful.

“Trying not to think about how many people are right outside,” you admitted.

Karina’s fingers curled around your shaft, giving it a light stroke, “Don’t think about them. Just think about me.”

And then her mouth was on you, warm and wet and perfect. Your head tipped back instinctively, hitting the stall door with a soft thud. You bit down on your lip to stifle a groan. Her tongue swirled around your cock, teasing and tasting, while her hands gripped your thighs to keep you steady.

“Karina—” Her name came out as more of a gasp than a word.

She pulled back just enough to look up at you, her lips glistening. “Too much?”

You shook your head, your voice strained. “Keep going.”

Karina’s smile widened, and she leaned in again, taking your length deeper this time. Her lips trailed along your cock; the warm, wet cavern swallowing you again. Your fingers tangled in her dark hair, not to guide her, but to ground yourself as she sent pleasure down up your spine. The sounds she made—soft, satisfied hums as she bobbed her head on your cock—vibrated through you, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

Outside, the faint sound of footsteps in the distance, and you froze, your body tensing. Karina didn’t stop. If anything, she seemed to take your hesitation as a challenge, her movements growing more deliberate, more intense.

“Relax,” her breath was hot against your exposed cock, “No one’s coming in here.”

“You don’t know that,” you hissed, though your grip on her hair tightened involuntarily.

She pulled back again, her lips brushing against your cock.

“Don’t you trust me?”

You didn’t even have to think about it. “Of course.”

“Then stop worrying.”

Her tongue flicked against the tip, and you choked back a moan.

It was as convincing an argument as any else.

Her mouth returned to your length, and this time, she didn’t hold back. The rhythm of her movements as she choked herself on your fat rod. The feel of her tongue running along the underside of your shaft every time she took you deep into her throat. The vulgar sounds of her gagging on your cock over and over again.

“God, Karina,” you breathed, your voice trembling as you looked down at her.

Her large-framed glasses were slightly askew, her dark hair falling into her face as she worked. She glanced up at you, her eyes locking with yours, and the sight of her like this—lips wrapped around you, cheeks flushed, glasses slipping down her nose—it was pure perfection.

“You look so fucking beautiful. Taking my cock so well.”

She hummed in response, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked on your cock, coming off with an audible pop before she was on you again. Her hands moved to your balls, her fingers teasing and massaging as she took you deeper, her pace growing more erratic. Despite your earlier apprehension you didn’t want this to end, not yet at least.

And just when you were finally starting to let yourself go, you heard it.

Voices.

They were faint at first, muffled by the bathroom door, but they grew louder as they approached. Your body tensed, your fingers tightening in Karina’s hair, but she didn’t stop. If anything, she seemed to take your hesitation as a challenge, her movements growing more deliberate.

“Did you see them?” a woman’s voice asked, her tone excited. “I swear, I just saw Karina from aespa near the gate!”

Your heart skipped a beat, but Karina didn’t even flinch. Her tongue swirled around your cock, her fingers still playing with your balls, and you had to bite down on your lip to keep from moaning.

“No way,” another voice replied, “Do you think they are on our flight?”

“I don’t know, but I hope so. Can you imagine sitting next to them?”

Karina’s eyes flicked up to yours, and you could see the mischief in them. She was enjoying this—the risk, the secrecy, the fact that they were so close yet so oblivious. Her hand moved to your thigh, her nails digging in slightly as she took you deeper, her pace quickening.

You could feel yourself unraveling. The voices outside were still talking, their conversation casual and unaware, but all you could focus on was Karina—her mouth, her hands, the way she looked at you like she knew exactly what she was doing to you.

“If only they knew,” you thought, your mind hazy with pleasure. “If only they knew how close they were to Karina right now. Their favorite idol, on her knees, looking this filthy.”

The voices began to fade as the pair moved on, their footsteps echoing down the hallway. Karina pulled off you with a soft pop, her lips glistening and her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. She looked up at you, her eyes dark and playful, and you couldn’t help but smirk.

“You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” you accused.

She grinned, her fingers still wrapped around you, stroking slowly while her other hand adjusted her glasses. “Maybe. Can you blame me?”

“Not even a little,” you admitted, your voice cracking as her thumb brushed over the tip of your cock.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against your thigh as she spoke. “Are you close?”

You nodded, your breath hitching.

“Do you want to come all over my face?” she asked, her tone innocent, as if she were asking about the weather.

The image alone was enough to make your knees weak—her pretty face, her large glasses, her lips parted as she looked up at you, your release painting her perfect skin. But you knew you didn’t have time for the cleanup, not with the risk of someone walking in at any moment.

“I want to see you swallow it all down,” you growled, your voice rough and urgent, barely contained.

Karina’s grin widened, sharp and knowing, and she didn’t hesitate. She took you back into her mouth, her tongue hot and wet as it slid along your length, teasing before she sank deeper. Her rhythm was relentless, each stroke pulling a ragged breath from your chest. Her hands gripped your thighs, nails digging in just enough to ground you, to keep you steady as she took you deeper, faster, her movements growing desperate.

“Fuck—yes, just like that,” you hissed, your voice breaking as the pressure coiled tighter in your gut. Your fingers tangled in her hair, not guiding, just holding on, as if Karina might slip away if you let go. “Don’t stop—don’t you dare stop.”

She didn’t. Karina’s eyes flicked up to yours, dark and hungry behind her glasses, which were slightly askew now, one lens fogged from the heat of her breath. The sight of her like that—messy, undone—sent a fresh surge of desire through you. Your hips jerked forward, involuntarily at first, but then you couldn’t stop. You moved with her, fucking her mouth in time with her head bobbing, each thrust driving you deeper, harder.

“That’s it—take it,” you groaned, your voice rough and uneven. “You feel so fucking good, Karina—I can’t—”

The words dissolved into a moan as she hummed around you, the vibration ripping through your body like a shockwave. Karina’s hands tightened on your thighs, urging you on, and you lost yourself in the rhythm, your hips snapping forward as she took everything you gave her.

“I’m close—so close,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “You’re going to make me—fuck—”

The tension snapped, sharp and electric, tearing through you in waves. Karina didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch, just took everything you gave her, her throat working around you as she swallowed you down.

When it was over, she stayed there for a moment, her forehead resting against your thigh, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. Her glasses were nearly falling off now, crooked and smudged, and you reached down to adjust them with a shaky hand.

You slumped against the stall door, your legs trembling, and let out a shaky laugh.

“Jesus, Karina,” you muttered, your voice still unsteady. “You’re going to kill me.”

She looked up at you, her lips still glistening and her eyes bright with satisfaction.

“You love it.”

You couldn’t argue with that. There was no question you adored this woman.

After a few more moments of gathering yourself, your heartbeat still thrumming in your ears, you reached a hand down to help her to her feet.

“Come on, you’re already late for the boarding call.”

She took your hand, her fingers warm and soft against yours, and stood, brushing herself off with a casual grace that made it hard to believe what had just happened.

“You owe me one now,” she teased as she leaned up to press a kiss to your lips. The kiss was brief and you could taste yourself on her—a faint, salty tang that sent a shiver down your spine. When she pulled back, her smile only grew. “Don’t worry, I brought a blanket for the flight.”

[harunayuuka2060]

*MC had decided to check again the ancient texts Malleus translated, but one in particular caught their eye—strangely, they didn’t remember reading it before.*

Your soul belongs to nowhere.

MC: ...

MC: Strange... the Dark Mirror said these same words when I first came here...

MC: ...

Grim: Hench-human! What are you still doing there?! We're gonna be late for class!

MC: !!!

MC: Y-yeah! Just—just gimme a second!

Crowley: Ah, Prefect! I presume you've come seeking my invaluable counsel?

MC: Yes, headmage. Is it okay?

Crowley: Of course! How may I be of assistance?

MC: ...

MC: Headmage, do you still remember… my first day here?

Crowley: Why, yes! How could I forget? You and Grim caused quite the commotion that day!

MC: Great… Then do you remember what the Dark Mirror said? That my soul belongs nowhere?

Crowley: *sensing their agitation* What’s troubling you, Prefect? Why these questions all of a sudden?

MC: I...

MC: ...

MC: *forced a smile* Never mind, headmage. Maybe I’ve just been... thinking too much about it.

Crowley: Hm... To ease your worries, the Dark Mirror simply meant you don't belong to any dorm, as your soul doesn't align with any of the Great Seven's. This includes the fact that you possess no magic.

MC: Yes. But still...

Crowley: ...

Crowley: Prefect, you should go back to Ramshackle and rest. I'll let your teachers know you need the day off.

MC: ...

MC: *nods* Yeah. I should do that.

Ace: Huh? Where's MC?

Grim: They went back to Ramshackle. *frowns* I wanted to go back too, but Trein and Crewel said no.

Deuce: Well, you have no reason to skip.

Grim: But Hench-human wasn't even sick!

Ace: Yeah, yeah. We get you.

Deuce: We should ask them later to know what happened.

MC: *rechecks the ancient text, only to discover new words that shatter all their hopes*

Death came for you—but your heart still beats. Your lungs still gasp. This place cradles you now, a hollow solace for what you’ve lost. That yearning in your chest? The dream of home? It will never be anything more. You are trapped here.

MC: *tears begin to fall—slow, silent, inevitable—as the truth settles like a stone in their chest*

*Ace, Deuce, and Grim exchanged confused glances why MC hadn't come to open the door yet.*

Ace: Don't tell me they're asleep?

Deuce: It's still quite early for them to do that.

Grim: *pounding the door with both paws* Hey, hench-human! Open up!

Deuce: Oi, Grim!

*The door opens.*

Ace: Ha! Finally! What took you so long—

MC: *their expression empties - not blank, but void - as the sickeningly familiar swirl of overblot begins creeping up their arms*

MC: ...

Ace: Oi... What's going on...

MC: ...

MC: I... don't know... but you have to leave... now...

Grim: Hench-human...?

MC: Grim… there's… there's nowhere for me…

Deuce: This... This is getting bad!

Ace: W-We'll be back! Okay?! We'll call for help!

Deuce: Grim! Stay with the Prefect!

*Ace and Deuce went to get help.*

Grim: ...

Grim: Hench-human...

MC: ...

*Ace and Deuce hurried to the Mirror Chamber where the dorm leaders were gathered.*

Riddle: *frowns* Ace? Deuce? What are you two doing here?

Vil: You are not allowed here, spudlings. This meeting is for dorm leaders only.

Kalim: We should hear them first—

Ace: THE PREFECT IS OVERBLOTTING! WE NEED HELP NOW!

The dorm leaders: !!!

Malleus: What?!

Deuce: Please, Draconia-senpai! They're in pain! We must hurry!

Grim: MC...

MC: ...

MC: I'm fine, Grim... But can you do me a favor?

MC: Don't let anyone in.

[oikarma]

look me in the eye | pt.2

pairing: max verstappen x rbr!engineer!reader

summary: the rb21 is unfixable but that's definitely not the only reason max verstappen wants you around.

a/n: "who cares what they think" bf and overthinker gf are my roman empire

part one / part two

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Max doesn't give you much of a choice.

One minute, you're wrapping up post-race debriefs with your teammates, pretending that you're not reeling from his reaction to your possible departure. They're very polite and do not pry into the conversation they all obviously heard. The next, he's standing by the garage exit, jacket in hand, waiting.

"Dinner," he says. It’s not a request.

You hesitate, glancing around. "I mean, I don't think-"

"I need to talk to you." His words are softer but still determined. "Properly. Not in the garage. Not with twenty people listening."

Your stomach twists. You should say no. You should.

Instead, you find yourself sitting across from him in a dimly lit restaurant, the scent of freshly baked bread and seared steak filling the air. It's nothing fancy. Fancy means attention. It's quiet, tucked away, the kind of place he probably picked because he assumed no one would bother him here.

But Max Verstappen is not someone who goes unnoticed.

Right now he's focused, barely glancing at the menu. It feels more like a business arrangement than a catch-up. That's how it's meant to be. Max is, in the hierarchy pyramid, somewhere a few diagonal triangles above you.

"Tell me what you need," he says as his fingers tap restlessly against the table. "More support? More control over the car setup? I'll talk to Christian."

You sigh, setting your menu down. "Max, it's not just about that. It's-"

A hushed voice at a nearby table. A phone camera clicks and, judging by the kerfuffle that follows, the person who pressed the button didn't expect it to be so loud.

Your stomach drops. Max's gaze flickers over your shoulder, jaw tightening as realization dawns.

"Shit," he mutters.

You don't turn around. You don't need to. The whispers are getting louder, the occasional giggle or gasp confirming what you already know-someone recognized him. And worse? They recognized you.

Your chest tightens. This is exactly what you didn't want. Attention. Speculation. The internet dissecting every detail of why Red Bull's star driver is having dinner with one of the team's engineers. Especially after that interview. Two things that should not be happening in quick succession.

Max leans forward and his voice is low. "Hey."

You shake your head, gripping your napkin like it's a lifeline. "I need to go."

"If you leave now, it’ll be worse."

You know he's right. Storming out will just make it look more suspicious. But that doesn’t stop the anxiety creeping up your spine.

Max studies you for a moment before making a decision. He leans back, body language shifting, a small smirk curling at the corner of his lips. Then, loud enough for the nearby table to hear-

"You're overthinking. Just enjoy your food."

It's so casual, so normal, that for a split second, it throws you off. And judging by the way the whispers fade just a little, it throws everyone else off too.

Max is playing it cool. Acting like this is nothing, just a casual dinner, nothing worth speculating over.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to match his energy. You pick up your menu again, even though you're too tense to focus on the words. "Fine," you sigh. "But if this ends up all over Twitter, I'm blaming you."

His grin deepens. "I'll take full responsibility."

Under the table, where no one can see, his fingers graze against yours. It's only for a second. It's probably an accident, you tell yourself.

You look into his eyes and you know it means so much more than just that.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

You wake up to chaos.

Your phone won't stop buzzing. The messages, missed calls, and notifications stacking up faster than you can process. At first, you think it's just another race week frenzy. Then you open Twitter.

Max Verstappen on a dinner date with Red Bull engineer. Garage romance?

Attached is the photo. A little grainy, taken from the next table over, but unmistakably you and Max. He's leaning in, smirking, looking far too comfortable across from you. You're gripping your menu like you were ready to bolt.

There are too comments to keep track of.

user1 she's been in the garage w him all season user2 Bro is dating his own engineer to fix the car 💀💀💀 user3 i fear they look GOOD together user4 is she the one he slipped up about in the interview??

You barely register the rest before Christian Horner is calling you. You pick up immediately instead of letting him go to voicemail. This is bad.

"Do you know what's happening online?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose. "I just saw it."

He breathes loudly-you can hear it over the phone. "Look, we don't comment on personal lives, but if anyone asks, we stick to the story. It was a casual team dinner, nothing more. Max's team is probably already handling it."

Max.

As if on cue, another message flashes across your screen.

Unknown It's Max

Unknown Don't look at twitter

Too late.

By the time you get to the paddock, the damage is done. Journalists are already circling, cameras flashing whenever you so much as breathe near Max's side of the garage. You stick next to Liam's car. You don't know what you're doing there, but he kind of does and pretends to talk with you about something he doesn't understand either. Good lad.

You keep your head down, pretending not to notice the murmurs. When you step into the engineering office, Max is already waiting.

He's scrolling through his phone. You can't see anything behind those startling blue-green eyes of his. You still can't when he looks up. "They're making a big deal out of nothing."

You exhale. "I'm trending on Twitter."

He shrugs, completely unfazed. "And?"

You blink. "And? Do you know what people are saying? That I'm-” You lower your voice. “That I'm sleeping with you for my job. That you’re-”

"Using you to fix the car?" His lips press together. Now his eyes darken, the sky before the storm. "Bullshit. Do they not know how engineers work? They fix the car anyway."

You shake your head. "It doesn't matter if it's bullshit. It's out there."

Max crosses his arms. "So?"

"So?" you echo, incredulous. "I don't want this. I don't want my name attached to you like I'm some stupid tabloid headline!"

He seems to read you. "Do you think I wanted it either? I just wanted dinner. I wanted to talk to you, convince you not to leave. Not...this."

Your anger deflates. You can't be mad at him. People are people.

Max pushes off the desk and steps closer. "Tell you what. If you want, I'll shut it down. Tell them all it's nothing, that it was just a stupid meal. That you mean nothing to me."

The words sting even though you know he doesn’t mean them.

You swallow hard. "Would you?"

His jaw tightens. "If that’s what you want."

You should say yes. You should. But he's the one waiting for you to make a choice-the choice-and you're frozen.

"I don't know," you whisper.

Is that relief you see on his face?

"Then we don't say anything."

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

The orange army has risen, and it's not McLaren's. The checkered flag waves, and above the screaming engines and the crackling of team radios, one thing is clear: Max Verstappen has won again.

Against the odds, against the struggles, against a car that has fought him all season, he has done what Max Verstappen does best.

He has won.

The Red Bull garage erupts. Engineers shout, mechanics throw their arms around each other, and the pit wall slams their hands down in victory. You barely register the chaos because your eyes are glued to the screens, watching as Max slows down on his cool-down lap, his voice breaking through the radio.

"YES, LET'S GO!" His laugh is breathless. "That was so, so good. Thank you, guys. Thank you."

You exhale. He did it. You don't even recognize the warm feeling going through you because suddenly, he's there.

Before you can even process it, Max is sprinting toward the garage, helmet ripped off, his fireproofs half-unzipped and clinging to his sweat-drenched skin. There's no hesitation, no second-guessing-shouldn't he be out there?-as he skids next to you.

Your heart lurches.

You don't even have time to move before he reaches you, before his hands find your waist and he pulls you in.

"Max-" Your protest dies in your throat because holy shit he's so close. His breath is warm against your skin, adrenaline pouring off him in waves.

"You," he pants, eyes wild and utterly alive. "You made that happen."

You shake your head, flustered beyond belief. "Max, you-"

But he cuts you off, hands tightening like he's afraid you'll slip away. "No. You fought for this car. You never stopped." He swallows, chest rising and falling. "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here."

You feel every nerve in your body short-circuiting.

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Just static.

Max searches your face. He looks at you as he does his father, after a race is over. Like this win doesn't mean as much if you aren't part of it. There is one person in the world he cares about making happy...might there be a second?

You’re completely, utterly speechless.

"Lost for words?" he teases.

You shove at his chest, but your laughter betrays you. "Shut up, Verstappen."

You untangle yourself from his grasp and motion for him to greet some other of the team members. The media must be having a field day. And after the entire PR talk, too.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

The celebrations are still in full swing when Max is pulled into an interview. The champagne drips from his hair as a permanent grin is stretched across his face. He's still breathless, still buzzing, still high off the win.

The reporter from Sky Sports barely has to ask the first question before Max is already talking.

"Max, that was an incredible drive. How does it feel to take this victory after the struggles you’ve had with the car?"

Max laughs easily. "Yeah, it wasn't easy. The car still isn't perfect, but today, it worked. And that's not just me, that's the team, that's the people who keep pushing-"

His words cut off for a second, his mind catching up to his own excitement. His tongue is loose, his filter nonexistent.

And then-

"-that's her."

The interviewer blinks. "Who?"

Max doesn't hesitate. "My engineer."

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Your stomach drops as you watch from the back of the garage, eyes wide as the cameras zoom in on him. He's still grinning, still glowing, and either he doesn't realize what he just said or he does not care.

"She-" he stops himself, shaking his head like he can't find the right words. "She works harder than anyone. Every problem with this car, she's been on it. I mean, I was nowhere at the start of the season, and now, we're here. If anyone deserves credit, it's her."

The reporter raises an eyebrow. "That's very high praise. Would you say she's been a crucial part of your season?"

Max tips his head back in his laughter, and it's so obvious now, the way he's still running on instinct, how he's still in the moment.

"She's been-" He stops, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. And then, softer-too soft for someone who's just talking about an engineer-he finishes:

"She's everything."

The interviewer's eyes widen slightly, and there’s a second-just a second-where you see the exact moment he realizes what he just let slip. Max's lips press together, like maybe if he stops talking now, the words will somehow erase themselves. But the damage is already done.

Your heart slams against your ribs.

Max turns his head like he can see you in the garage. He's searching, looking for you.

You panic. You run.

But the world has already heard him. You're not just another engineer.

You're Max Verstappen's everything.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

The second you step back into the Red Bull garage, cheeks flushed from your bathroom pacing and breakdown, you know you're screwed.

The looks. The whispers. The way people pretend not to be staring but are absolutely staring. Because, of course, everyone saw the interview.

The moment Max Verstappen, three-time world champion, winner of the race, decided to open his mouth and say-

"She's everything."

You could kill him.

Scratch that. You will kill him.

Your heart is still hammering from the moment you heard it, from the way he looked for you afterward, like he wasn't even the slightest bit embarrassed about saying something that made it sound like-like-you don't even know what it sounded like, but it was definitely not normal driver-engineer talk.

And now, here you are, trying to avoid eye contact with every single person in the garage while searching for the idiot responsible.

It doesn't take long.

Max, being Max, doesn't bother hiding. He's standing by the monitors, still in his fireproofs, arms crossed over his chest, looking completely unbothered. He should be celebrating. Why is he not out celebrating?

He's still waiting for you.

The moment he sees you, his expression shifts. Something smug, something amused, something that makes you want to strangle him.

You grab his arm and yank him into the nearest private space you can find.

"Max," you hiss, barely able to contain yourself. "What the hell was that?"

His brows furrow. "What?"

"What?" you repeat. "You-on live television-you called me everything."

Max blinks, looking so utterly relaxed that you want to shake him. "Yeah."

You stare at him, waiting for him to realize the problem, to acknowledge that he just threw you to the media wolves with zero warning.

Nothing. Just calm, slightly confused Max Verstappen.

"You do realize what that sounded like, right?" You press, feeling your face heat up. "Everyone's losing their minds. Twitter is exploding. Horner gave me a look. Do you know how scary it is when Christian Horner gives you a look?"

Max’s lips twitch. He's fighting a smirk and he's not winning. "I mean… was I wrong?"

"What?"

He tilts his head, like he's considering his words. "You are everything. To this team. To the car. To-" He stops himself, but it’s already too late.

He knows exactly what he said.

"Max-"

"Tell me I'm wrong."

You can't, because he isn't. Maybe you've known it all along. Maybe this is why you can't leave the stupid team, even though it's causing hair loss and severe lack of sleep.

So you don't. Instead, you grab him by the collar and pull him down. Max lets out the softest, most relieved exhale before he crashes into you.

It's not a soft kiss. It's not careful, or hesitant, or anything close to restrained. It's desperate. It's months of tension snapping all at once.

You make a soft noise-half surprise, half something else entirely-and that's all it takes.

Max groans, deep and low, like he's wanted this for as long as you have, and suddenly it's worse, because now he's tilting his head, deepening the kiss, pressing you back until you hit the nearest surface.

You don't even know where you are anymore. A storage closet? A backroom? It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is him. The way he tastes like champagne and adrenaline, the way he kisses like he races. All-consuming and with only one thing on his mind.

You should stop. You know you should stop. The entire garage is just outside. Someone will notice. Someone will hear.

You thread your fingers into his hair, tugging just slightly, and Max shudders.

"Fuck," he mutters against your lips, utterly wrecked. His eyelids flutter, long lashes too. Max runs a finger down to your chin, forcing you to look at him. "You're overthinking again."

He's completely right. But you don't stop then. You relax and just let Max Verstappen take over every single thought in your mind.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

a/n: i just need a man who's bad at emotions but also so good at them

[slutoru1207]

Is it alright if you make an invincible story where Mark and the reader started out as childhood friends. He dated Amber, then Eve then next is the reader. Then after that have been together for a long while now, Mark would have some crazy baby fever. Please?🥺🙏

You and Mark had known each other for as long as you could remember. Childhood friends, then more, though neither of you really understood the difference when you were younger.

You’d both been through a lot—he with his journey to becoming Invincible, and you, just by his side through all of it. You’d been there when he dated Amber, then again when he had that short-lived relationship with Eve. But now? Now it was you and him. You’d been together for years, and every day with Mark was something new, yet always familiar, like the way he made you laugh with his clumsy yet endearing superhero stunts or the way he’d always hold your hand in public like it was a quiet declaration of his love.

Mark was the guy in your life, and somehow, it still felt like nothing had changed, even after all the twists and turns. The love between you had grown stronger, deeper, more solid with time. It was perfect, or at least it felt that way until one thing started taking over his thoughts.

It had started out subtle. A conversation here and there, as you’d talk about your future—about what it would look like a few years down the road. You'd been dreaming together, as you always did, about the house you might have someday, the trips you’d take, the quiet moments you’d share.

But lately, Mark’s eyes seemed to linger a little longer when he saw baby ads on TV. Or when he’d get super excited when a new friend or family member would have a baby.

At first, you thought it was a passing thing.

But then... it wasn’t.

One evening, as you two sat on the couch together, flipping through channels, Mark’s gaze was fixed on a commercial for a baby product. You didn’t think much of it until you noticed how still he was. His lips parted as if he were about to say something.

“Mark?” you called, tilting your head.

He blinked and snapped out of it, looking at you with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I was... thinking."

You raised an eyebrow, suspicious. "About what?"

Mark shifted in his seat, then hesitated. His voice lowered, and his eyes were slightly sheepish. “About... babies.”

You couldn't help but laugh lightly. "Babies? As in, your babies?"

He looked over at you, eyes wide with a mix of excitement and hesitation. "Yeah... I don't know, it’s just... I mean, you know, we’ve been together for a while now, and I’ve been thinking..."

"Thinking about what?" you asked, leaning toward him, curiosity piqued.

Mark’s face softened. "About how nice it would be to have a little one around. Someone to love and take care of. Maybe someone who looks like us." He added quickly, "Not right now, of course! I mean, I’m just thinking about it. But I don’t know, I can’t help but get excited whenever I see something about babies."

Your heart warmed at the idea of Mark getting all soft over the thought of having a little family someday. But you still couldn’t stop teasing. "So, you’re having baby fever, huh?"

Mark rubbed the back of his neck nervously, his cheeks a little red. “Maybe... just a little. But it’s not just that! It’s the whole family thing, you know? A future with you... with us... It just sounds so perfect.”

You chuckled, sitting next to him. “Well, I’m glad you’re excited. But we’ve still got a lot to figure out before that happens, don’t we?”

Mark nodded, but his gaze was soft, dreamy. "Yeah... but one day, I just want to hold our baby in my arms, y’know? Teach them stuff. Be there for them."

You smiled, your heart melting at how genuine and tender his voice was. You wrapped your arms around him, snuggling into his side. "It’s a nice dream, Mark. And when the time’s right, we’ll make it happen. But for now, we can just enjoy the thought of it, right?"

"Yeah," he agreed softly, his arm wrapping around you tightly. "Right. But don’t be surprised if I start getting a little more obsessed with baby stuff around here."

It didn’t take long for Mark’s baby fever to escalate. Soon, he was the one who kept bringing up the idea of starting a family. Every time you’d talk about your future together, he'd slip in something about how awesome it would be to have kids, how he could already picture it. His enthusiasm was adorable, even if it was a little overwhelming at times.

One day, you came home to find him watching a parenting video on YouTube, his eyes wide with wonder as he took in every word. You stared at him, hands on your hips. “Mark... you really have it bad, huh?”

He looked up at you, a grin stretching across his face. “I mean, it’s all very important stuff. I gotta be prepared, right?”

You laughed. “You’re adorable. But I’m not going to let you get a baby before we even finish organizing the living room.”

Mark pouted dramatically, but you could see the spark of excitement in his eyes, even if he tried to hide it behind a little humor. “Hey, I’m just saying. Maybe we should go ahead and practice.”

You arched an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh yeah? How would you practice?”

Before you could react, Mark scooped you up into his arms, his grip strong but warm. “I’ll take care of everything. Starting with you.”

You laughed, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. "You're impossible."

But, for once, it felt right. You could already picture it: the two of you, growing a family, starting the next chapter of your lives together. And you couldn’t wait.

[dragonbabes]

*F*cking Yap Warning; expect run ons and awful grammar and cursewords*

This is a super interesting thought. Cause I sorta agree. This isn’t to say that I’m upset that they gave the companions main character energy — cause they are, in a sense — and I adore all of their quirks and whatnot’s. But they put too little effort into Rook. From the very beginning.

I remember thinking that Rook is such a disposable character. I played a Shadow Dragon on my first playthrough, and I remember straight up snorting at Rook's response on why they couldn't navigate to Dumat Plaza: "Not my part of town." Seriously? But worry not, we have Harding, who can figure out something that Rook, who's probably lived in Minrathous for years, couldn't! (Lame)

Crow Rook: is assassin... Like Lucanis. Love this man to death but, why can't Rook do the stabby stab at Ghilan'nain? Does it have to be the sexy, coffee-obsessed man? Is Rook de Riva not sexy enough to brandish a weapon at the nefarious Ghilan'nain or the not-too-intimidating Elgar'nan? It was never explained it was just *shrug* Two's better than one ah-hyuck... When Neve was like "We need an assassin" to my very crow Rook, I was literally there like

( L a m e )

In my Shadow Dragon playthrough, I sacrificed Minrathous and I loved that Neve and the others are so much more critical than they are with other Rook origins, but literally no one on the team was like: how are you? That Lucanis - the soft, yearning, feeling man that he is - did not approach Shadow Dragon Rook that sacrificed their home, their city, their people, to protect his is so fucking wack to me. And - hot take, I think there's a lack of this throughout all of the games - no one ever checks in on the leader, because why? They're this amazingly unbreakable person that can face anything? No! Any hero worth their salt breaks, but they get back up. That's what makes em the hero. Iron Bull literally says "leaders are made of the people that can make the hard decisions, and live with them" but we never get to live with it, do we? They don't give us the chance to see them process that, and learn to hold it, because none of the companions bother to ask, "Hey I know you literally just had to sacrifice an entire city, how are you?" (Lame) If you want a player to feel immersed in your game and take joy in it, you give them the ability to affect the world. You make them feel the story by asking them "How do you feel after making this awful, awful decision?" Then, you let them choose how to answer the question... This was a huge fumble.

And oh my gawd the whole reason that Varric ever recruited Rook is just... Puzzling to me. He was just like "a-ha, yah, i want that one" because Rook is unpredictable? That's it? No actual purpose to the plot, they're just here to be like "haha he won't expect us to drop a building on him c'est la vie..." (l a m e)

Can we please also talk about how Rook can't have any side conversations with their companion outside of the cutscenes? In Inquisition, you could walk up to Solas and be like "what the fuq is up big dawg" then dap him up but in DATV? You're a sad loner sitting at your own lunchtable because they unfortunately don't have enough chairs at theirs (you can see an empty chair, but they need it for Neve's bag). You have to stand there like a creep and just be like "definitely not eavesdropping, nope nope nope. uh-uh, I merely entered this room that I really have no business in to stare into the void don't mind me carry on... Pleeeease I'm desperate to explore your character but can't outside of seeing how you talk to the others and plot-related developments."

And let me reiterate that I do love this game. It's fun to play and there are a bajillion things I do like about it... But how they handled Rook is very disappointing. Creating a character blank enough for a roleplay game is tricky, I get it, and i'm certain there are things I don't understand about it, but it's also the most important character in the game. Period. Let your players play their characters, is what i'm sayin.

If you got this far, I admire you.

What’s really jumping out at me on my second playthrough is that the writers of the first three games understood that your character was the main character. The Veilguard writers clearly thought that the main characters were their characters, the companions.

Every scene is about setting the companions up as cool or competent or sympathetic. Often, this is done at Rook’s expense. The companions get all the witty one-liners; Rook’s attempts at humor not only frequently fall flat, but are frequently called out for falling flat (even when they’re completely automatic and the player has no say in them).

The companions have all the knowledge and skills; Rook just brought them all together and gives them all pep talks so they can focus. I’m trying to edit out all of the comments where Rook is like “Um… what????” from my videos, and let me tell you, it takes WORK. There are A LOT of them. I can count on one hand the number of times when the Inquisitor or Hawke comes across as dumb, but it seems to be a built-in, unavoidable part of Rook’s character. I have not selected a single “purple” option in all of Act 1, and Rook is still coming across as the kid who tries to be the class clown to cover for the fact that he’s always confused. Rook’s role in most scenes is to say “Uhhh… what?” so that the companions look smart.

Rook is always the one offering sympathy and never the one getting it. No one actually comes to comfort you after Varric’s death. No one asks you how you’re feeling about having to lead the team now that Varric is gone. No one tries to reassure you or give you advice for dealing with the trickster god haunting your dreams. We’re told that Neve could keep Solas out of your head, but she never actually offers to do this for you. No one comforts a Shadow Dragon Rook when Minrathous is destroyed or a Grey Warden Rook when Weisshaupt is destroyed. Rook’s problems don’t matter. Only the problems of main characters matter.

Rook is a secondary character in their own story.

[angelscribes]

thinking about f1 racer! gojo satoru and how you're his pretty little good luck charm.

while other f1 drivers took the time before the race to meditate or maybe talk to their race engineers and pit wall about their car, satoru would find himself knuckles deep into your pussy.

"a-ah– toru!" you mewl, manicured nails braced against the wall of the waiting room as you let your boyfriend work out all of his racing stress on you. the sound of your dripping cunt is lewd and loud, juices trickling down your thighs as you quiver in your heels, panties bunched at your ankles.

"shh, baby," satoru coos against the shell of your ear, lips brushing against it as his free hand snakes to cover your mouth. "you don't want everyone outside to hear how good i'm making you feel, right?"

of course, you were worried that satoru's engineers outside could hear you. after all, you were only separated by a door that may or may not be unlocked – satoru never confirmed or denied it. his race engineer or his personal trainer could walk in any moment and all they'll see is your teary eyes and how your cunt was greedily sucking in satoru's long and deft digits.

you shake your head, unable to coherently form an answer while satoru rearranges your mind and guts with only his fingers. your lover knew your body like every race track on the grid, the sharpest corners, the flat-out straights, the quickest ways to get you to cum.

call it performance anxiety, but he could never do well on race day until he manages to get you to squirt all over his fingers at least twice.

"c'mon, pretty girl," you hear your boyfriend's honeyed voice through the haze of pleasure as his fingers bully your g-spot, almost like a wake-up call, making your body clench around him. "i don't have much time left before i gotta get into the car. you're not going to deny me my championship win, are you?"

you shake your head once more, drool catching at the corners of your mouth. eyes rolling back and hips thrown back, you could only whimper and whine as you barrel towards your second? third? orgasm of the day, rendering you weak to the whims of your boyfriend.

satoru's fingers curl against your gummy walls before stretching them out, a dragged out and cocky "yeaaah" from your boyfriend as he stares at your glistening cunt with an almost prideful look. your pussy seizes satoru's fingers when your orgasm finally crashes over you which sends your knees buckling towards each other and satoru's hand slipping from your mouth to wrap around your waist quickly.

drivers and their reaction speeds.

"woah there," satoru chuckles dreamily, an almost boyish tone to his laugh when he watches you tremble like a newborn foal, his arm strong against you to steady you. "maybe i can put world orgasm champion to my resume, huh?"

you glare at him weakly over your shoulder as your body comes down from your pleasurable high despite the empty feeling of satoru withdrawing his digits from your sopping cunt. strings of your essence stretch as he pulls away, and you watch your boyfriend clean his fingers up with a gleeful hum.

"oh, come on, don't at me like that," satoru coos as he manhandles you into standing straight so that he can crush his lips against yours, letting you taste just how sweet you are. "you know it'll just get me going again, pretty girl."

you can't help but roll your eyes a little but you kiss him back nonetheless before pulling away with a sweet 'mwah'. the two of you make quick work of making yourselves presentable again, a routine at this point where satoru cleans you up with a towel while you adjust your clothing before slipping your panties back up, business as usual.

"are you sure you don't want help with that, toru?" you ask him, eyes darting down to the almost painful looking bulge in his race suit before you look back up.

"nah," satoru dismisses your concerns before he suits himself up and then flashes you a cocky smirk.

"it's my motivation for driving fast."

[chuusmuts]

imagine submissive!pathetic!nerd!clingy!boobies obsessed!scaramouche

smut. afab reader, nipple play, fingering, (a little) dirty talk(?), creampie(??), top!reader, probably. not proofread.

idk how to title this so just imagine. also helo ig.

you had a childhood best friend, scaramouche, who was also your roommate and classmate. besides his good looking face, there's really nothing good about him. he's a nerd, the typical one that wears glasses and likes to read books. what's more, he's very submissive and clingy especially toward you. it was almost he had an obsession and was even more needy to you, laying his head on your chest, groping and kneading them.

for instance, you were supposed to be in class, yet here you were in the school's bathroom stall, sitting on his lap while he's seated on the closed toilet lid. he was clutching onto your breasts tightly, nuzzling into them as he whined and whimpered, refusing to let you go and mumbling about how soft you were. scaramouche pouted and clung tighter to your body, nuzzling into your breasts with a soft whine. "no.. i don't wanna go to stupid class... I just want to stay here with you forever..."

his fingers kneaded and squeezed at the soft mounds as he buried his face between them, inhaling your scent deeply. the nerdy boy seemed so lost in his own little world, completely ignorant of the importance of attending lessons. "mmmm your boobies are so warm and comfy... this is way better than any boring lecture..." scaramouche mumbled between nuzzles, his glasses slightly fogging up from the close contact as he made no move to let you go.

the bathroom was almost empty. it was the perfect place since no one but the two of you go to that bathroom. to other people, he appeared as an innocent boy trying to act all cute around you, but in reality, it's just his way of being possessive. he was so needy and greedy for your attention that he would ditch classes just to be with you, knowing that you'll let him get away with it.

scaramouche's fingers deftly worked open a few buttons of your uniform blouse, exposing your cleavage to his hungry gaze and touch as he whimpered. his pale cheeks were flushed and his breathing heavy as he pant softly against your skin. "but you promised me to go to class today.." taking off his glasses, you wiped off the fog with your sleeve and placed them back on his nose before stroking his hair, stirring up scaramouche to melt into your touch, and purring softly. he nuzzled into your hand like a needy kitten who crave more affection.

the way you pat him and stroke his hair so gently, the way you're being so nice to him even though he's being unreasonable.. they all turned him on so much as precum started leaking on the tip of his dick, dampening his grey pants. he whined loudly, his fingers still clutching at your cleavage as he pant. his face is flushed deep red, eyes glossy with lust behind his glasses.

"b-but I don't care... i just want to be with you..." he mumbled out between breaths, squirming in his seat. scaramouche's other hand moved down to palm at the growing bulge in his pants, letting out a soft moan. "mmmnh... you feel so good, y/n... i can't help myself around you..." his hips buck up slightly, grinding against your core through layer of clothes as his arousal continued to leak out, soaking through the fabric.

"nghh... y- your hands feels nice, don't ever stop..." he said, more to himself, the words came out in a breathy whisper, his voice low and husky with desire. his fingers pinched and tugged at your nipples through your uniform, sending jolts of pleasure through your sensitive body. in his fucked up mind, scaramouche thinks it's perfectly okay to miss classes as long as he gets to be alone with his you. you sighed defeatedly, half because of his behaviour, half because of you, yourself were starting to get aroused.

"scaramouche, scaramouche." you squeezed your eyes shut before calling him out who's still whimpering and moaning against your soft breasts. gently, you cupped his face and brought it up to look at you. there was a visible pout on his flushed face and his hair was all disheveled from all the nuzzling. "how about this? one round." you suggested. "one round, and we go to class together. and after class finished, we do another round?" you held out a pinky finger, trying to make a deal with him. you didn't want to miss another class and received a warning letter from the stupid professor.

scaramouche bit his lip and looked up at you with big puppy dog eyes. he squirmed in your lap, his arousal straining against his pants desperately. as much as he wanted to refuse you and ditch the class just to spend time with you, the deal sounded too good to be real. "o- one round... and then class... and then another after?" he repeated slowly as if trying to wrap his lust-addled mind around the offer. scaramouche's fingers twitched, his grip on your boobies grew tighter, causing you to whine in pain.

without thinking twice, he nodded eagerly, latching onto your outstretched pinky with his own. "okay, deal.." a wide, excited grin spread across his flushed face. "mmmnh... hurry y/n... i need you..." scaramouche whined impatiently, already wiggling his hips against you. his glasses are nearly fogged over again completely and his eyes were filled with desire. he looked utterly debauched already, and you've barely even started. you shifted off of his lap, and scaramouche's hands moved to fumble with the zipper of his pants, desperate to free his throbbing erection. more precum was leaking steadily now, leaving a noticeable big wet spot on the fabric.

meanwhile, you slid down your panties and pulled your skirt until it reached your thighs, enough to expose your glistening pussy. as his leaking erection sprung free from his pants, you unbuttoned your shirt completely and unclasped your bra before hanging them on the door handle. sitting on his lap, you let him bury himself deep inside your fluttering core while he let out a sharp gasp. his hands immediately flew to grip your hips, clinging to you desperately as he started thrusting upwards in earnest. "mmh come here.." you murmured, stroking his nape.

he began moving his hips upwards in unison with your downward thrusts, driving the entirety of his thick member up inside you, every thrust came along with a pathetic whimper as his thick shaft plunging deep into your welcoming cunny. the tight heat enveloping him triggered sparks along his spine. "mmh... that's a good boy.. i got you, darlin'" you praised him as you hugged his head to your breasts once again and scaramouche nearly lost it on the spot. the sight of your bare breasts and the way your tight pussy gripping him tightly was driving him wild, he almost cum on the spot. it was pitiful, he knew, but he didn't care. "haaahh... y-your boobies, your cunt... so damn perfect..." he buried himself between the pillowy mounds, motorboating and nuzzling into them with desperate enthusiasm.

"ahhhnn... nghh, y- y/n... so hot and wet... mmmnh!" the nerdy boy whimpered, panting heavily as sparks of pleasure shoot up his spine with each movement. he could barely think straight, lost in the incredible sensation of your fluttering walls gripping him tightly. your hips worked frantically, bucking down, enveloping his thick shaft over and over as lewd squelching noises fill the small bathroom stall, echoing obscenely off the tiled walls. his fingers dig into your soft skin resulting red marks to left behind.

your tight heat milked his cock mercilessly as scaramouche's movements grew erratic, you could feel his cock twitched inside you, his balls drawing up tight, ready to explode at any moment. your breasts quivered and bounced delightfully against his eager mouth, providing an erotic symphony of soft slapping sounds that drove him wild. bringing his head closer to your face, your hand slid up to wrap around his throat lightly, squeezing just enough to make his breathing difficult and he couldn't help but let out a deep groan. "come on, don't cum yet. you don't want this to end early, do you?" you breathed, trying to hold back your moams as a wicked smile formed on your face, licking your lips while you tightened your grip around him.

he loved how you're always gentle with him but switched 360° and became dominant when you're fucking him, it makes him hard it hurts, and every time, he would surrender himself to you completely. but the stimulation was just too intense, your slick pussy milking his throbbing shaft for all its worth. your grinding and the feel of your velvety walls squeezing his aching cock had scaramouche mewling. hand still around his throat, you pulled him in for a rough kiss as you shoved your tongue down his throat and scaramouche moaned desperately into the kiss, his tongue immediately and eagerly tangling with yours. the hand around his throat had him lightheaded, adding to the dizzying pleasure coursing through his veins.

he'd never been able to last long with you, your dominance and the sheer ecstasy of being inside you always pushed him to the brink embarrassingly fast. "haaahh... c-can't... nghh! too good...!" scaramouche babbled incoherently between kisses, his hips still moving erratically as his cock jerked inside your tight heat. his hands roamed all over your body, groping and kneading greedily at your soft curves, fingers pinching and tugging at your erected nipples, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to both of your core. the combined sensations had him seeing stars, his impending orgasm building rapidly at the base of his spine.

"p-please... m-mercy... ahhh... g- gonna... nnngghh..." scaramouche warned breathlessly, struggling to breathe and his face screwed up in concentration. you could feel his cock twitched inside you, clearly fighting to hold back his release. his fingers dug into your soft flesh, fondling and stroking as you sucked greedily at his lower lips while he sucked your top one. in mid of making out, you unfastened his uniform, letting it fall to the floor before brushing your thumbs against his nipples teasingly, causing him to mewl and moan into your mouth.

the sight of scaramouche's eyes listing focus, mouth hanging open, and drool leaking from the corner of his mouth as he lost himself in the sensations made your flustered, your heart fluttering as your heart beat faster. it made your fingers pinched his nipples and twisted them so deliciously, he shuddered and arched into your touch, a drawn-out moan spilling from his lips. something felt different— the kisses were frantic, desperate than before, your mind became vague. it's intense and intimate as both you and him were completely clouded with lust.

"ahhnghh... y- y/n..." he whimpered desperately as the last of his self-control slipping away, his cock throbbed and pulsed inside your tight heat, the stimulation rapidly pushing him past the point of no return. scaramouche's eyes fluttered open, glazed over with lust and adoration. he gazed up at you, his breath heavy, completely at your mercy. you crashed your mouths together once again, the kiss desperate and hungry.

"want... need... mmnnh... love you..." scaramouche mumbled between sloppy kisses, completely consumed by his intense feelings and the all-encompassing pleasure. he could feel his orgasm surging forward, his balls drawing up tight. with a final, choked cry, scaramouche surrendered himself to the blissful release. his cock erupted deep inside you, pumping stream after stream of hot, thick seed into your fluttering depths. the aftermath got him trembling and writhing under you as he came, his eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy, almost seeing stars. the sensation of his molten essence flooding your insides pushed you closer to the edge as well, your walls clamping down rhythmically to milk him for every last drop as you moaned loudly.

all he could manage to do at the moment was breathed hardly against your neck, with lust and contentment. his sweaty skin pressed against yours and he peppered your neck gently, hoping that you wouldn't go just yet. but his wish went unfilled as you pulled away, your slick walls slipping off his softening member, a flood of your combined fluids gushing out, dripping down onto his thighs and the bathroom floor and he missed you already. "come on, time's up. get ready to go to class." you said, trying to catch your breath while in the process of wearing your bra. scaramouche whined in protest and immediately grabbed a hold of your arm, trying to pull you back, his voice filled with need. "w-wait... don't go... stay a little longer..." he looked up at you with big, pleading eyes, hoping to convince you to extend your intimate encounter.

you stared at him with the same look before bending down and stroking his head using your free hand. "another round after this class, remember?" a small smile spread across your face. "or do you not want that? you did a good job holding this time, i might give you an extra reward later, you know." grabbing his jaw, you pulled him for a quick kiss before continuing to wear your uniform. scaramouche cheeks flushed deeply at the mention of another potential reward, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. he nodded eagerly, the promise of more intimate time with you was more than enough motivation for him to be a good boy.

"y- yeah... i'll be a good boy... i want it, i want you..." he agreed shyly and reluctantly, nuzzling into your touch and desperately hoping that the lesson will pass quickly so he could have you all to himself again. scaramouche stood on shaky legs, putting his uniform around his slender, pale torso. he took a moment to adjust his glasses and smooth down his messy hair, trying to compose himself before heading to class with you, already craving your touch once more.

[noheadcanons-juststories]

Vampire!141 x fledgling!reader, who was found abandoned and starved. meeting 141

“Who called you?” you demand to know.

“Amos,” the man with the chops answers.

Boss called them?

“Are you from the Night Council?” you dread.

“Not at all. Amos is an old friend of ours, back from service,” he explains. His voice was soft yet weathered, like an easy thunderstorm on the countryside. “He informed us that one of his employees was possibly attacked. Asked us to come help.”

So these men were not from the Night Council as you feared. But you were still weary to open the door.

“I didn't ask for help,” you retort with a raggedy cough. “Whoever you are, just… just tell him that I won't be coming in anymore.”

“Listen, lass,” a new man spoke up, very much Scottish with a very nice mohawk, “Amos called us in fer a favor. But once he explained the situation, we let him keep it. He's worried, and ye need someone to take care o’ ye. So we're here to help you.”

“Please…” you beg. “I don't wanna be treated like some charity case. So unless you're gonna kill me, just leave me alone.” You were tired, in pain. You could barely stand anymore.

The tall man in the skull-plated mask approaches your window, looking you dead in the eyes. “You really wanna die, fledgling?” a rougher voice asks. “‘Cause I can arrange that.”

“Simon,” Chops quietly reprimands.

“No, Cap, we need to get this outta the way,” ‘Simon’ persists. “‘Cause m'not gonna come all the way here for a fledgie too weak to live.”

“Bit harsh, dontcha’ think, Lt.?” Scot frowns.

Simon ignores him. “The reason we're here is because our friend is worried about his employee,” he tells you. “He fuckin’ cares about you. Now, we can be civil, and you let us in. Or we can cut to the end, and I put you out of your misery, quick and painless. So what's it gonna be?”

As he speaks, you slowly slide down to the floor. Pulling your blankets tighter around you. Truthfully, neither option sounds appealing. You don't know these men. Childhood lessons on stranger danger and accepting help from strange men never prepared you for the undead. But on the other hand, did you really want to go out a pathetic, dehydrated corpse? There's only two outcomes with two different paths leading to either. Die or find a clan. The Night Council does not guarantee anything except your immediate end. Meanwhile, Amos got a clan on speed dial for you.

John sits down by your window. “Listen, love…” he speaks softly. “We're here because Amos refused to call the Night Council on ya. And I don't blame him. They're diligent, but they're still pretty ruthless. Especially towards those abandoned. He called us because he knew we were the better choice.”

 You lean against the wall. “You could've refused…” you whisper.

“Could’ve,” John shrugs. “But didn't want to.”

“Why not?”

There were a few reasons…

“‘Cause I’d hate for a fledgling to die without bein’ given a chance,” he responds.

…One of them being that he was once in the same boat as you when he was first turned, albeit through uglier circumstances…

“Regardless of how you got here, you need someone to show you the ropes.”

…He was looking to sire another vampire after Kyle, despite his own reservations about immortality. Amos just happened to call while he was brewing in his thoughts, surprised that the old faun still had his number…

“And it'd be a shame to lose a sweet soul like you.”

…And Amos had only good things to say about you, practically gushing as if you were his own kid. Kind yet firm with a bit of confidence, you were.

You let out a sigh, frowning as you reconsider your options. Your expression worsens when you remember that you only have two. “What's your name?” you ask the vampire.

“John Price.”

“What do you do, Mr. Price?”

“I hunt vampires.”

You giggle after letting the thought simmer for a bit. “You hunt vamps?”

“Only the bad ones,” he smiles.

“Do I… I don't fit that criteria, do I?” you question.

John shakes his head. “No. Not at all.”

“...Mr. Price?”

“Yeah, love?”

“I'm scared,” you admit.

“I know,” is all he says. “That's why we're here.”

Kyle joins John's side beneath your window. Then Johnny, who doesn't want to be left out, and lastly, Simon, who doesn't want to be left behind at all. The men sit underneath the glow of the Half Moon. Small chirps in the grass and distant hooting in the trees bring a peaceful ambiance to the evening. Coupled with the bipolar winds of Spring gently weaving through the grassy fields.

“Whaddya wanna do, lass?” Johnny asks you.

“I don't know,” you say, trying not to cry for the umpteenth time.

“Well then,” Simon speaks up again, “whaddya not wanna do?”

“...Not hurt anyone… and not die.

John nods once. “Alright… that's a good place to start… Think you can unlock the door for us?”

It's silent for a bit, but you don't go to the door. Instead, you unlock the window and crack it open just a tad. The four men look back to see you stick your hand out, pale and spindly, which Kyle takes into both of his.

“We're right here for you, fledgie,” he comforts you, gently squeezing. “And we're not leaving you behind.”

And for that moment, you believe him.

Role Call!: @boy-pussyyy

[inbabylontheywept]

Just a warning, this is pretty long:

So, the first weird thing about Mormonism is the degree to which it imagines eternity as being driven by bureaucratic processes. An example of this is the belief that people in the afterlife can and will receive the church's teachings and become full spiritual converts, but will not actually be allowed into full heaven until someone on Earth performs the full baptism ritual in a temple. There is a physical bureaucratic limiter beyond one's beliefs that must occur for conversion to "count." This also applies to things like marriages. You can be married on Earth, but the heavenly bureaucratic mechanism won't actually recognize your marriage until you, again, have someone perform the necessary temple ritual.

(There is this weird persistent feeling that God wants to help you, he just needs you to fill out the right forms.)

Those are relatively benign examples. In Nazi Germany, Helmuth Günther Hübener was both executed by the state and excommunicated by the church for distributing anti-Nazi pamphlets and listening to foreign radio broadcasts. He did nothing that anyone could consider violent in any way. Not that it would've mattered - fighting Nazis was a moral duty - but he literally just handed out pamphlets. When the war ended, he was formally restored as a member and given the same rituals more people receive by age 18. Which I suppose is good, but it always struck me as a much weirder approach than simply saying: No. The excommunication obviously never counted. God is not controlled by burueacracy. 10,000 Nazi Mormons can sign 10,000 documents stating that you are, in the eyes of God, no longer a Mormon, and your status will not change because God is the one guy in Germany not stuck following orders.

But that would have also required admitting that ultimately, excommunications are not in the church's control. They can sign as many papers as they want, but if those papers have to get approved by God, and you're pretty sure God won't sign them, they have no control over you. Ultimately, I find the best power pose against excommunication to be: No. I'm not. You don't get to decide who is a Mormon. God does. And God is still with me.

How does this tie the difficulty in leaving the church?

The Mormons take all this shit extremely seriously. They have enormous paper archives of member data, intended to last thousands of years, stored in (I think?) giant underground salt mines, with literally the most rigorous archival methods of any organization on the planet. They are genuinely trying to make a paperwork trail capable of lasting through the two-thousand years after Christ's return. They acually literally believe that eventually, everyone's full time job will be keeping track of everyone who ever lived, and fulfilling the paperwork needed for those people to return to heaven with their families intact. That's what the righteous will be doing for the two milleniums after Christ's return. Those poor bastards.

This is extremely important to them. That's what your file is for. It says who you are, who your parents are, what rites you have completed, and which you still need. They one day plan on having a file for everyone that ever lived. And when you leave the church through the formal process, part of what you're requesting is that they destroy your file.

They hate destroying your file, but they're required to by law if you request it. In the end it is your information, and they don't have a right to it, but they feel like they have a right to it because they're not evil they're just trying to save your stupid idiot soul, goshdarnit. So they fight like hell if you tell them to. It's not enough to just ask, and it frankly isn't even enough to ask while telling them that you know you have a legal right. You have to ask, with a lawyer present, because that way they know that they can and will be sued for noncomplianced. Then they do. Allegedly. I'm still not convinced that they don't just take your file and carry it into some very deep, very dark part of the salt mine with a lock that's designed to open after 200 years or something.

Legitimate *pro bono legal services* don’t exist without a good reason. In a few of the exmormon groups I’m in you’ll see regular posts saying stuff like “Look what my lawyer sent me today!” with a pic of their resignation confirmation letter from the church.

You know. Just stuff that a normal average church that is definitely not actually a cult would do. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

🙄

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 40 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Work is finally peaceful for Bradley. While it seems like everyone around him is moving to a new stage of life, he knows he is, too. He's surrounded by so much love already, and more will be blooming soon as he counts down to the end of your pregnancy.

Warnings: Adult language, DILF Roo, pregnancy, smut, lactation kink

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Work was an adjustment. In a good way. It took Bradley a few days to remember he didn't have to look over his shoulder for Indigo. He didn't have to keep his head on a swivel, wondering if she was giving you a hard time somewhere on base. He could just get his work done without interference.

When he eyed the burrito bowls in the cafeteria at lunchtime, he checked his phone, wondering what was taking you so long to come down. "You okay, Soul Sister?" Nat asked, squeezing his shoulder. "Want to sit with Bob, Maria and me?"

Bradley grunted, and shook his head. "I'll wait for my wife."

"I don't think she's coming," Nat replied casually, bypassing the burrito bowls in favor of the baked pasta.

"How do you know that?" Bradley asked, double checking to see if he'd missed a text from you while he was in his classroom all morning. But there was nothing.

"I was talking to her when her boss tracked her down. He looked flustered, telling her he needed her in his office."

Bradley's brow creased as he picked up just one burrito bowl instead of two. He eyed the green hot sauce you were obsessed with, but it wouldn't taste as good without you sitting next to him. "Did Bickel seem upset with her?" Bradley knew how much you loved working for your commanding officer, and that feeling seemed to go both ways.

Nat shrugged. "Less upset and more concerned. I'm sure she's fine."

Bradley settled in next to his best friend and across the table from Maria and Bob, but he barely got one bite of food in his mouth before Maverick was standing next to him.

"I'd eat that as quickly as possible. Cyclone wants to see us."

"Now?" he asked his godfather, wondering why his day kept getting more annoying since parting ways with you. Maybe he should just cancel his afternoon flight.

"I'll meet you there in fifteen minutes," Maverick said, leaving him to practically inhale his food while the others conversed. 

Apparently Bob and Maria were giving up their lease to move into a nicer one-bedroom place together. While that information wasn't surprising, it made Bradley a little sad. You'd been the one living in that apartment with Maria when Bradley fell in love with you. Your little bedroom was where he'd poured his heart out to you in the early days. It was where he made love to you for the first time.

"I'll help you move," Bradley immediately offered, getting a nod in return from Bob. He really wanted the opportunity to be in that sacred space one last time while he had the chance. And getting brownie points with one of your best friends was never a bad move.

"Thanks, Rooster," Bob replied as Bradley shoveled the last of his burrito bowl into his mouth and got up to leave again. Whatever Cyclone wanted, it was best not to keep the man waiting. But honestly, Bradley couldn't understand how his perfectly good morning was deteriorating so quickly. Waking up with his hand on your belly felt like days ago, and what if Admiral Simpson wanted him for something annoying? Fuck, what if he was about to get deployed even though he'd been promised those would become few and far between? What if he wasn't even home for your due date?

He was counting how many weeks were left in your pregnancy while he knocked on the office door. If he had to spend the anniversary weekend he'd planned at the cabin telling you he was leaving, you would be so upset. You and he needed a break together.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. Have a seat." Bradley met Cyclone's eyes where he stood next to his desk with Maverick. He hated to be the only one in the room sitting, but he was left with little choice. Bradley sank into the chair while Cyclone cleared his throat. "I wanted to take a few minutes to wrap up your complaints against Lieutenant Jeffries."

Bradley cringed, and Maverick crossed his arms over his chest like he was fighting to stand still. "Yes, Sir," Bradley agreed with a nod, hoping he wouldn't have to rehash anything that had already happened.

"I was notified of her separation this morning. An admiral in Texas called me first thing." Bradley sat up straighter in his chair as Cyclone said, "Lieutenant Jeffries has been formally discharged."

Now Bradley had to fight a smile as he replied. "Thank you for letting me know, Sir."

It was obvious Maverick had something to add. "Bradley. Uh, Rooster," he corrected quickly. "During some of our discussions, you voiced concerns about staying in your current role." Bradley swore his heart stopped as Mav added, "Do you still feel that way?"

Bradley stayed silent. For weeks and months he'd been wondering if he was in the right place. Wondering if he was effective as a teacher rather than just another body in another Super Hornet in the air making decisions without considering the consequences. But the main reason he had been second guessing himself was Indigo. He'd keep his head on a swivel from now on. He'd never let something like that happen again. It was easy to reconsider things without her on base. His classes were fun again. He enjoyed teaching. He loved watching his students take what they learned to the air.

But the best part was being at home with you every night. At home with Rosie. At home enjoying the countdown to the arrival of his second daughter.

"No, I don't feel that way now," Bradley rasped as he shook his head. "I'm where I belong."

--------------------------

When you realized you'd inadvertently bailed on your husband, you felt bad, but that feeling didn't last for long. When you got to Bickel's office at the same time as Cat, you and she shared a brief look before he ushered you inside. Once you were all seated, your boss broke out into a smile.

"I don't know how you manage to do it, but you two always surpass my expectations."

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself quiet, because you had no idea what he could be talking about. The baby was squirming around and thumping on your ribs as you tried to remain chill without looking at Cat. You adjusted your maternity tent and let your boss continue.

"The quick work you put in to test the new software updates ahead of schedule was so successful, your efforts are being recognized."

Now you were shaking from holding back your laughter, and Cat cleared her throat awkwardly three times. "Thank you, Sir," she said calmly with a smirk. "We try our best."

The look on her face made you start coughing. Was she hoping to make you pee your pants? You thought you might as you took a deep breath and listened to Bickel lay out an upcoming timeline for the continued software testing. It wasn't like you didn't know the updates would be successful; you and Cat worked too hard for anything otherwise. But Indigo was the reason you wanted to ground an aircraft ahead of schedule.

When you were finally dismissed, you rushed toward the bathroom with Cat on your heels. "Are you still nauseous?" she asked as you headed for the first stall. "You're awfully late in your pregnancy to still be so nauseous."

"No! I have to pee! I don't know how you stayed so calm throughout that meeting. I thought I was going to explode with laughter."

She was still smirking when you washed your hands. "Remember all those promises you made about watching Jer for me if I was willing to finish the code in a hurry?"

"I do," you replied easily. "Want to drop him off at my house after work one day this week so you and Jake can get into some nasty shit for a few hours?"

Cat's laughter echoed throughout the space as she doubled over, cackling. "I guess that depends upon your definition of nasty.... we're trying to figure out which day we can go apply for our marriage license." You screamed before she clapped her hand over your mouth. "Shh! Are you out of your mind?"

"Marriage license!" you screeched when she freed you. "Jake is such a fuckboy, and you're so in love with him!"

"You're the one who told me he's a good guy in the first place!"

"He is!" you insisted, beaming at her. "And he'll be the best dad for Jer."

Instead of returning to your office or the lab, you dashed toward the elevators and went downstairs. As soon as the November sun hit your face, you felt like this day couldn't get any better. The walk to the tower was filled with the distant sound of jet wash and a breeze that gave you goosebumps. When you reached the aviator's lounge, the first person you saw when you opened the door was your husband holding a disposable coffee cup and chatting with Natasha, but you rushed past them.

"Hi, Roo," you offered, patting him quickly on his flat belly as you headed for Jake who was sweaty and unzipping the top of his flight suit. You flung your arms around him, and he held you awkwardly with your bump pressed against him.

"Whoa, Angel. What's got you throwing yourself at me?" he asked with a laugh. "Not that I mind..." he added, winking at Bradley as you pulled away.

"You didn't tell me you're getting married," you hissed quietly so the others couldn't hear over their conversation. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

Jake's cheeks paled as he wrapped his fingers gently around your bicep, guiding you toward the window. "Damn, Cat can't keep her mouth shut," he muttered, glancing outside. "We don't actually have anything planned yet, but I convinced her to get the marriage license. That'll give us ninety days to make it happen." He turned his green eyes your way and added, "My lawyer said Jeremiah's biological father stands less of a chance of locating him if I adopt him. Make him a Seresin," he grunted softly. "It's just Cat's name listed on Jer's birth certificate, and I'd really like to change that as soon as possible."

"Jake," you gasped, tears filling your eyes. "You're so in love with them."

He nodded. "I am. And I told Cat she'd have a spectacular wedding in ninety days or less if she promised to get the marriage license now. She told me she doesn't want to spend any money. Claims I've spent enough to help her get free from her ex. But I want her to have whatever she wants-"

"She wants you. You're already Jer's dad. Just marry her. Keep it simple."

"Are you ever going to give me a hug?" Bradley called from across the room. "It's been like two minutes, Sweetheart."

Jake smirked and nudged your shoulder with his bicep. "Get over there so he stops whining."

"I'm not whining," Bradley whined. "I just want a hug from my wife and daughter." He tossed his empty cup into the trash when you slotted yourself into his arms. "That's better," he murmured, lips meeting your forehead as you let your cheek rest against his chest.

"He whined when you missed lunch, too," Natasha said casually as you laughed.

Bradley huffed. "Is it really such a bad thing that I like being around my family?"

"Not at all." You glanced up at him. "And I think it's kind of cute when you whine about it." He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as his fingers crept around to your hip, holding you tight. "Guess what Bickel told me earlier."

"That you're the best officer he's ever worked with and he wants you to take over his lab when he retires?"

Your heart fluttered at your husband's words; he was your biggest fan. "Not quite. But Cat and I are being recognized for our work on the Super Hornet comms. And I kind of have Indigo to thank for it in a very twisted way."

"Oh! She's out of the Navy, Baby Girl."

You blinked up at him. "She is?" you whispered, mind swirling with the image of Indigo storming away from you in a rage the last time you saw her.

"Yeah, she's toast," he replied, lips meeting your forehead again as Natasha and Jake headed out. "I had a meeting with Mav and Cyclone."

"When were you going to tell me?"

Bradley's lips curled into a smile as he took your hand and kissed along your knuckles. "I'd have remembered later at some point, but Indigo is the farthest thing from my mind now. I'm more intersted in going home and packing for our trip and fucking you."

You glanced around to make sure everyone else had cleared out. "Okay, that does sound fun, but we have to babysit Jeremiah one evening this week."

"Can't it wait until next week after we get back from the mountains?" he whispered. "I'm in family mode, looking forward to our anniversary."

"Nope. We absolutely have to watch Jer for them. It's a necessity, Roo."

-----------------------------

"Jesus," Bradley groaned, kicking your maternity uniform across the bedroom floor before it could trip him up. Dinner was in the oven, Rose was napping, and you were easing yourself back on the bed, nearly naked. He watched you pull your sensible underwear down until he could see your rooster tattoo, and then he pounced.

"Roo!" you squealed, wrapping your leg around his hip as he held himself over your body, his hands planted on either side of your head. "You have to make it quick. And you're never quick."

"I know," he grunted, biting his lip as you rubbed yourself against the fly of his khakis. All he wanted at the moment was to take his time licking that bead of milk from your nipple before treating his mouth to your entire body. But there wasn't time. Jake Seresin would be here shortly to ruin his fun.

Your hand on his zipper prompted him to savor that bit of your milk as you pulled him free of his pants. Then you guided him right where he belonged, and he sank inch by inch into your pussy until you moaned his name.

"That's fucking beautiful." He kissed away all the little sounds you made as he fucked you slowly; they could just wait out on the porch with Jeremiah until Bradley was done with you for all he cared.

But something about having you naked and beneath him while he was still fully clothed in his uniform made Bradley realize he wasn't going to last too long. The bounce of your tits as your fingers dug into his hair. The scrape of your nails along his scalp as your pupils grew wide. The way your growing belly took up more space than usual. It was all designed to make him insane. He knew it. He wasn't going to fight it. You'd win every time anyway.

"How do you do this to me?" murmured against your neck, inhaling your scent with a gasping breath as your pussy pulsed around him. "How do you fuck me up like this?"

Your answer was your lips on his jaw as Bradley swallowed hard, fucking you as his body tensed above yours. "Roo," you gasped, lips parting, rolling your hips. He couldn't hang on when it was this good. When your voice was in his ear, coaxing him along. 

"God, Roo. Daddy!"

That did it. His thrusts grew shorter as he came, pushing himself deep, filling you with his cum until he let his weight settle halfway on top of you. He was never done until you got what you deserved, but as soon as he dragged his fingers along your tattoo and let them settle on your clit, Tramp started barking.

"They're here," you moaned, starting to sit up with Bradley's cock still buried deep.

"But I'm not done with you," he whispered, keeping you in place while Tramp howled. But it was useless. "Fuck!" He pulled himself free, forfeiting the opportunity to watch his cum leak out of you as he stood. Bradley tucked himself back into his pants and did up the zipper, scowling. "Hangman ruins everything, I swear to god." He pulled one of his old undershirts and some gym shorts from his drawer as you laughed and stood. "I'll finish you off later," he promised with a kiss, pressing his clothing into your hand.

"I know you will."

Bradley was in no mood for company, but when he opened the front door, Jer clapped his hands with a big smile on his face. "Hey, Buddy," he said, smiling reluctantly as Jeremiah climbed from Cat's arms into his. "Tramp is so excited to play with you."

"Tramp!" Jeremiah reached down trying to pet the dog while he went wild.

"Thanks for babysitting," Jake said as he strolled in from the porch earning an eye roll from Bradley.

"It's no big deal," Bradley replied through clenched teeth, trying not to glare. It wasn't like Jake and Cat had any idea what they'd interrupted. Or at least they didn't until you came rushing down the hallway into the living room with Bradley's undershirt on backward. Cat didn't seem to notice, but Jake stifled his laughter behind his hand.

"Hi, Jeremiah!" you crooned, running your fingers along his cheek. "We're going to have so much fun. Rose will be awake soon, and we can go out back to the playset."

"Sorry about the timing," Jake muttered.

"No, you're not," Bradley whispered. "Now get out of here."

Jake laced his fingers with Cat's as she said, "We'll be back in less than two hours."

"Take your time," you said, waving her off. "We'll have so much fun while you're gone." You took Jeremiah's hand and led him to the couch where you'd left a stack of Rose's books, ready for the occasion. 

When Bradley closed the front door, he heard his daughter's cries coming from the nursery. He rushed in to scoop her up, kissing her fuzzy hair and changing her diaper before carrying her to the living room where you were reading Jeremiah the silly goose book.

"Whoa, Baby Girl. You need to start over. Rosie and I love this book."

"Love!" Jer cheered as Bradley settled down on the couch next to him. The little boy suddenly seemed more interested in Rose than in the book, but you obliged everyone by starting the story at the beginning.

--------------------------

The sun was setting after dinner as you nursed Rose on the patio wearing Bradley's clothes and your boat shoes. You hadn't taken the time to turn his shirt the other way, too busy bustling around with the two, well, three kids.

"Higher?" Bradley asked.

"Higher!" Jeremiah replied, and you watched your husband push his swing harder. Peels of laugher filled the backyard, and now Rose was crying for a different reason. She seemed to want to join in the fun as Tramp ran around the playset in circles.

"Jake needs to get this kid a puppy," Bradley eventually said as Jeremiah reached for the dog again. Really, the only thing that seemed more interesting to him was Rose, and he shifted his focus as you walked their way, Tramp immediately forgotten.

"Can you say Rose?" you asked Jeremiah as his swing came to a stop in front of Bradley. "Rose."

He tried his best but struggled with the R sound as Rose reached for his hair. "Be nice, Rosie," Bradley scolded, scooping up Jeremiah at the same time he took Rose from your arms. The sight of him holding both kids was almost too much, and you reached for one of the wooden playset posts to keep yourself standing. He kissed your daughter's cheek and said, "It's getting dark out here. How about a snack and one more round of the silly goose book?"

"We could do that," you whispered, letting your hand rest on your belly. For the briefest second, you started rethinking your threat about the vasectomy.

"You have to read it again," Bradley murmured, leading the way to the sliding glass door with his arms full. "The kids love your voice, and so do I."

By the time you finished the book, Rose was falling asleep and Jeremiah was yawning. But Bradley looked attentive, eyes calculating. At the sound of a knock on the door, he was up from the couch with Jeremiah in his arms. "Well, it's been fun, little man, but it's time for you to leave."

"I didn't even get to say goodbye!" you complained, holding Rose. 

Bradley turned around so you could kiss Jeremiah on the cheek, and then he thrust the child into Cat's arms and closed the door as soon as she said thank you.

"That wasn't very nice," you said with a laugh.

"I disagree, Sweetheart," he told you as he reached for Rose. "I thought that was pretty fucking nice considering what they interrupted earlier. Now say goodnight to your daughter and go get undressed."

"Stop swearing in front of the baby," you scolded half-heartedly before he kissed your lips. God, he was doing numbers on you right now. He was in his demanding 'dad' mode while still wearing his uniform, and you moaned out loud. "Okay, fine. I'll go get undressed."

Everything felt so good tonight. You could hear Bradley singing to Rose as you went to the bathroom and did your bedtime routine. You didn't have to wait long after you tugged his undershirt over your head before he appeared in the bedroom doorway. His brown eyes were playful, but his gaze was glued to your body. "Now, where were we?"

You trailed your hand down your side, along your swollen belly, and let your fingertips graze your tattoo. "Right about here, Roo."

He nodded in agreement, closing the distance with three long strides before kneeling in front of you. His hands wrapped around your thighs as his lips and mustache met your rooster tattoo before skimming along your belly. "Yeah. Right about here."

--------------------------

Well, I was wrong... there will be one more part after this! Stay tuned for an anniversary trip. And don't forget to send me your thoughts about hcs and blurbs! Thanks for reading!

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[deikshen]

Shen Qingqiu who, while Shang Qinghua is recovering from some random poisoning (that demon has already died at the hands of Mobei, don't worry), is forced to spend time with Mobei-jun.

At first it's tense. He arrives, a mandatory tea out of politeness. It's usually frozen. They don't have much to talk about or anything in common except their concern for Shang Qinghua.

Except they do have in common. At some point, perhaps, Shen Qingqiu mentions some rare beast, and Mobei-jun comments that he killed a couple of those. That leads to the first long conversation the two of you can have.

The next time, Mobei-jun brings back the beast's fangs. The two return to their conversation about monsters. Mobei-jun speaks little, concisely, but he talks about how to kill those beasts, the properties of their organs, the functioning of their poisons. Shen Qingqiu shares his bestiaries and provides additional information.

Then, even when Shang Qinghua improves, Shen Qingqiu usually takes advantage of the time when he has to stay in the northern palace with his husband to, well, expand his bestiary. Mobei-jun also seems to be passionate about flora that can kill, or anything huge and dangerous. Shen Qingqiu enjoys their conversations and learns to get more than just a few words out of Mobei-jun's sullen mouth.

Of course, he actually tells Shang Qinghua:

"When your husband isn't being monosyllabic, it's a good conversation" he says simply. "I didn't know he knew so much about flora, monsters and strange beasts. When I find a rare flower and can't remember its name, I'll ask Mobei, not you."

Shang Qinghua laughs a lot at that.

"Ah, I think that's because, well, you know, inspirations and all that..."

Shen Qingqiu looks at Shang Qinghua very curiously.

"Inspirations? You created your perfect husband from scratch. Who did you get your inspiration from, Airplane bro? Spill the tea, let's see the vicious tastes of this shameless author."

Shang Qinghua laughs a little foolishly.

"Well, you see, I had this classmate in college. A very rich guy" Shang Qinghua makes a funny face as he buries in the past. "He was cold and monosyllabic, even hostile to those who were rude, but hey, he could give you an infodumping of all the monsters in The Witcher without even doing research. I heard him do it once and, man, that guy was crazy" and Shang Qinghua continues talking while, as if by omen, Shen Qingqiu begins to feel a strange sensation of vertigo. "He was kind of cute, well, not exactly my fully type, he was very tall but lacked many muscles, but he had the biggest and prettiest resting bitch face I've ever seen on anyone even my king. He always wore all those fancy clothes that cost the same as my apartment rent, those silver accessories, rings, necklaces, bracelets... His hair was also kind of long, now that I think about it, and when he wore it down it was, god, a delight. I liked him a little. He was my college crush." and Shang Qinghua shrugs, laughing. His cheeks are red and Shen Qingqiu feels that his own ears are red, too. "Cucumber bro, it's actually a bit silly. I remember this boy's last name was also Shen."

That... That's the last straw.

"You-!" and Shen Qingqiu finds himself hitting him with the fan before he realizes it. "How-? What the hell!?"

"Ow, ow, OUCH, Cucumber bro!! What's going on?!"

Shen Qingqiu feels his face burning. His hands tremble over the fan. What the fuck!?

"... Bro?!"

"That classmate of yours" Shen Qingqiu hisses, just to confirm "His name was Shen Yuan?"

Shang Qinghua blinks, confused, recalling his thoughts. Suddenly, his entire face lights up with a wide smile.

"Oh, I forgot!! Yes, that was it!!" and his gaze becomes mischievous. "You met him, too?! He was a delicious little thing, honestly, a nice round butt, he... OUCH-"

"He was me" Shen Qingqiu hisses, opening his fan and hiding behind it. He wrinkles his nose in disgust. Of all the people in the world...!

Shang Qinghua gasps, looking like he was given some vital information. His face, contrary to what Shen Qingqiu expected, does not change into horror, but into mockery.

"Oh, bro" and starts laughing out loud "BRO"

"Damn fourth-rate author, what the hell is wrong with you!!!"

"Bro, BRO, I created a part of my husband based on you!! And you're married to my son self-inserted in a power fantasy!! It's like we're indirectly married!!"

"Fuck you!!"

"Ohh, how cute!! Do you want to jump to the honeymoon already?!"

"Get away!!"

Shen Qingqiu doesn't visit Shang Qinghua again for over a month. However, he does spend some time talking about monsters with Mobei-jun while his husband takes care of the demon court (in the time he would usually use to gossip and fool around with Shang Qinghua), it's just his thing.

[dntaed]

oh, i’ve been gone for a few days, but !!! i have a little something for you guys <3 changing up my post’s styles a bit. i’d like to focus on headcanons and small imagines from now on. (dw my series won’t disappear). i just want to try something new! 🌷

a/n: not proofread, this work is sfw. have fun reading. MASTERLIST HERE !!

✹ ꕀ 𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 : ‘ 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽? ’ ( ✦ )

( ✦ ) In a few words, to describe a relationship with Jason Todd would be a fever dream, a reverie you didn't even know you were in until those sea-green eyes hit you like waves; you find yourself wanting to lose yourself in this dream.

Despite being a man with a reputation of a rather not-so-savory kind, he unexpectedly shows the most softness and tenderness for his partner out of all the Bat-boys.

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 ⠀. ᰋ .. 🪻

JASON TODD loves quietly. He's subtle with his affections. The fact he loves you will be shown in the small details that collect over time. You don't even notice it at first. He's not used to expressing his feelings in a way that's obvious to the fleeting eye. Only someone who pays attention would see how utterly devoted your boyfriend is to you.

It's the way Jason always has a hand on the surface of your back or waist, guiding you through crowds or holding you while cooking in the kitchen. The touch serves as a safety net for you and a chain that connects the two of you. He needs you close to him. Your presence in the early morning or even in the busy streets of Gotham City has him feeling even calmer.

Jason devotes himself to learning everything about you. He silently watches you when you talk about the things you enjoy. It's a soothing sound to his ears. He makes sure to keep any important detail you mentioned tucked away in his mind.

The specific drink you like at that coffee place you've grown attached to, that book you've been reading (he's picked it up too, he wants to talk about it with you), what temperature you enjoy your tea, the route you take during your day—do you want that pretty ceramic cup he saw at the shop? He thinks you would. He's getting it for you, because when you're happy—he is too.

🗨️: Sorry, I talk too much.

J: But I want to hear you.

There are moments in your relationship when the confidence Jason tried to show you slowly crumbles around you. He doesn't realize that it's the walls he has built around himself finally disappearing when he's with you.

It's shown in the way he sleeps soundly next to you. The way your touch doesn't send spikes through his skin. The way he's more open talking with you. It comes to him naturally—talking with you all night, words slipping past his lips that he wouldn't trust anyone else with.

Acts of service is an important part of a relationship with Jason. He's up before you are. The hot cup of your favorite drink sits steaming on the counter. He's already fussing around the kitchen, trying to cook up a meal for you. (Keyword, trying. I don't have much faith in his cooking, and neither does he.) He's the first to go out for groceries. His hands are always full of the bags you carry. No matter how many times you reassure him you're okay on your own, he shakes his head. He's doing this because he wants to.

🗨️: It's okay. I can carry them.

J: No, no. It's okay. While we're at it, give me that bag you're holding in your left hand, looks heavy.

🗨️: You literally have five bags already!

He has a habit of resting his head on your shoulder or placing his chin on top of your head when he’s tired. He’ll murmur something like “Five more minutes, babe” if you try to move.

I already mentioned in a previous post that you two are not only lovers. Friends to lovers is the romance I see Jason being in. You're his best friend, and he's yours. You're the first one he looks for in a room because you're the only one who really knows him—in and out. He's Jason Todd to the rest of the world, but to you, he's your Jay. The Jay you met and slowly became friends with. The Jay you spent hours huddled away in a library with. You two discuss books non-stop in hushed whispers. Those whispers slowly turned into something even bigger, something that settled deep in your bones.

Jason adores physical touch, but only from you. He’s the kind of guy who acts grumpy about PDA but will still pull you into his lap when you least expect it. Forehead kisses, temple kisses, pulling you closer by the waist when someone walks too close to you—those are his specialties.

Dates include, you guessed it, library dates, that cozy restaurant you two found, the park during the evening, the homey feel of your shared apartment at midnight while a cheesy romance movie plays in the background, late-night walks around the busy streets while the kaleidoscopic colors of the city dance across your figures. It's all very saccharine sweet and simply soft.

The pet names I see Jason using are: a classic babe, pipsqueak (a more teasing one), a shortened version of your name, and pretty.

Jason isn’t a fan of social media, but he keeps a private account just to follow you. He never posts, never likes anything, but he’s always watching. If you post a picture of yourself, he’ll send a text: “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Might be surprising to some, but he's a big gossiper. He's talking about everyone and everything with you. It's a monthly talk you guys have. Basically, gossip buddies.

Arguments are rare with Jason. I've already mentioned that love with him is a process of boundaries and promises to take things slow. I think the two of you don't cross any lines.

Even if something happens, he cannot bear to get mad at you. You're his person, his other half. It ends with apologies, and he needs to be in your presence for the next few days (like a cat with separation anxiety, following you from room to room).

God forbid someone threatens you in any way. Which in itself is rare, because of the automatic scary boyfriend privileges you have. Though, if someone is foolish enough to try, all you need is to give Jason permission, and the person is getting into big trouble.

He likes to write little notes for you. Slipping them into your book, sticking them on the bathroom mirror, or tucking them into your pocket. They range from “Don’t forget to eat” to “You looked so pretty this morning, I almost forgot how to breathe.”

He walks you to class. Shyly, he takes your hand in his and has a small celebration in his mind that he managed to do it. Off you two go, strolling through the campus as if it's your own world.

I think Jason would playfully tease you too. He's your best friend and now boyfriend. It's a requirement now. That's where the pipsqueak pet name comes from. He enjoys your reactions, the little huffs of exasperation or the way you try (and fail) to glare at him.

If he ever catches you crying, Jason immediately goes into comfort mode. He might not always have the right words, but his arms are strong, his voice is gentle, and he’ll hold you as long as you need.

🗨️: You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be okay.

J: I know you will. But I want to be here.

Jason is so in love with you, it’s ridiculous.

But at the end of the day, despite all the teasing, all the quiet acts of love, all the soft whispers and quiet mornings, Jason Todd is just a man who loves you with everything he has. And he always will.

♥︎ . .. ♥︎ .. 🌷 ♥︎

© dntaed | all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are not allowed to be reposted, translated, or modified.

[bookwyrmbran]

as another formerly-active person who caught it February 2020 before the lockdown, and am now housebound and largely bedbound -- you do not want this.

I used to hike 3-5 miles a day in hills and cliffs for fun; I was a semiprofessional vocalist; had just finished up two grad degrees and was supposed to start a doctoral program that fall. I had people over all the time, cooked all the time, avoided hair spray and perfume when singing but was otherwise in pretty decent health.

these days, I am lucky to cook something from a package once a week. I'm lucky if I make it into the backyard to sit in a recliner. my joints try to dislocate on a regular basis; I'm now a fall risk and sometimes can't use the microwave because pressing the buttons results in various finger joints subluxating. average fatigue score is 9. average pain score is a joke and I'm allergic to almost every prescription painkiller my docs have tried.

but these days I'm horrifically allergic to all kinds of things -- polyester and acrylic result in blisters. pretty much any airborne particulates set me coughing, synthetic fragrances and VOCs and bleach and hairspray are instant migraine if I'm lucky and my chest seizing up if I'm not. as bad as the pain and fatigue are, the skin and air problems are what really and truly lock me away from going anywhere -- do you have any idea how everywhere polyester and acrylic are? or one person wearing scented deodorant. someone else wearing lotion. the building air fresheners -- I wear a P100 respirator to and from the pain clinic each month and have to strip and scrub the second I get home.

I love academia. I love research, love teaching, love learning. it's always been easy and fun. it makes the brain fog and memory issues even more frightening than they would be otherwise. I forget appointments, to eat, to use the bathroom, which mug was from this morning and which was from days ago. every time the weather changes I'm in bed mostly unconscious (or wishing I were) for the day, longer if it's a particularly dramatic change.

if I catch it again --

if my family and friends, who do not mask, even knowing what it's done to me, continue catching it --

I try not to think about that.

believe me when I say that you don't want this. not for yourself. not for those around you. you do not want this.

"everyone suddenly seems really stupid and aggressive" its brain damage from covid

"im sick all the time now and everyone at work is sick all the time" its immune system damage from covid

"im sick again, but i tested and its not covid haha" its still probably covid, rapid covid tests have been estimated at 30% positive accuracy by researchers who are factoring in strain mutation and user error

"no one can drive anymore, what happened" its brain damage from covid

"why am i suddenly mentally ill" its brain damage from covid

"i started feeling weak, breathless, confused, distracted, irritable and in pain but it was a while after i got covid so its not long covid" long covid sets in a random number of months after your covid infection and also asymptomatic covid can cause it

"ive still never gotten covid, isnt that great" unless you are an undiscovered genetic freak (possible) or youve been living in a clean room, you have had a covid infection. it may have been asymptomatic

"im sick but its from blood clots, heart disease, asthma, nerve damage, narcolepsy, etc" covid attacks the entire body and can cause all of these things as downstream effects

"ive already had covid so i probably have pretty good immunity by now" covid does not work like this. the more times you are infected, the more permanently injured you will become, and the more vulnerable to further covid infections and infections of all other viruses and bacteria

"ive been vaccinated so im safe" covid does not work like this. vaccination lowers your likelihood of developing severe infection, it does not protect you from contracting the virus

"well what am i supposed to do" wear a mask

[gr4cier4cie]

♡ bet you wanna love me now ♡ smau

or: he's is a seven-time world champion, revered by all, loved by most. the only person he can't win over? his goddamned wife. fem!engineer!reader x lewis hamilton (arranged/political marriage au)

warnings: none really just sexual innuendo (LOTS), the enemies part of enemies to lovers, omg i don't even know how i got this idea but it somehow happened enjoy the ride my friends!!! love you all so so so so much ♡

♡

liked by y/nhamilton, f1, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, olliebearman, lando, carlossainz55, danielricciardo, georgerussell63, and 1,090,450 others

lewishamilton this past weekend in monaco, i married the love of my life in a small ceremony attended by our close family and friends. there is no greater joy and no greater love that comes even close to what my heart feels for her. i love you, y/nhamilton. till death do us part.

comments on this post have been limited.

♡

♡

liked by lewishamilton, yourbestfriend, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, lando, danielricciardo, and 890,645 others

y/nhamilton 06.12.25. i'll be forever yours if you'll be forever mine. i love you, lewishamilton. i always have, and i always will.

lewishamilton there she is. my wife. (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton i love you lewis. (now come back to bed) └ lewishamilton i've got to feed roscoe baby └ y/nhamilton I ALREADY FED HIM EARLIER LEW HE'S GOING TO GET FAT AGAIN

yourbestfriend im still crying over your vows (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton oh hon that was the goal im sorry im sorry

alexandrasaintmleux congratulations my love!! you deserve all the happiness marriage can provide 💕 (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton ahhh i love you my girl!! charles_leclerc put a ring on this woman before i do my god └ charles_leclerc picking out a ring is harder than you think!! (♡ by author)

username1 OKAY WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKITY FUCK WHO ELSE IS HERE AFTER SEEING LEWIS' POST

username2 love how he just got married to a race engineer in the middle of the season and served cunt i mean did we expect anything else from him └ username4 WAIT WHAT SHE'S AN ENGINEER?! └ username2 omg yes check her bio

username5 omg her and lewis used the same pic of the two of them in their posts that is so damn cute

username6 OMG SHE'S SO GORG THEY'RE SO CUTE username7 PLS ADOPT ME y/nhamilton lewishamilton

♡

♡

liked by lewishamilton, your best friend, scuderiaferrari, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, danielricciardo, georgerussell63, and 945,600 others

y/nhamilton been out of office recently (we're never coming back)

lewishamilton my pretty girl (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton my pretty boy 💖 (talking about roscoe rn)

yourbestfriend HOLY SHIT MA'AM I AM BLINDED BY THE BEAUTY IN THIS POST (the view, i mean. not you naked. obvs) (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton so that's not very kind lewishamilton the view IS her naked in my opinion └ y/nhamilton LEWIS OH MY GOD

scuderiaferrari please come home you two. everything's a mess without you. (♡ by author)

username8 THEY'VE GOT ADMIN IN THE COMMENTS LFMAO username9 i too would be in a chokehold if these two got married and then went on a honeymoon in the middle of the f1 szn

alexandrasaintmleux so beautiful as always my girl!! (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton took inspo from you of course!! username10 oKAY THE WAY ALL THE WAGS ADOPTED Y/N └ username11 she was basically one of them already LFMAO she saw lewis more than anyone else saw him

username12 I AM DECEASED MOTHER HAS POSTED

username13 y/n please divorce lewis and marry me i am on my knees

y/nhamilton i don't know... the offer's just SO tempting... lewishamilton she's taken mate. FOREVER.

♡

♡

liked by lewishamilton, f1, scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux, and 1,070,300 others

y/nhamilton congratulations to the team on another amazing race in spa-francorchamps!! thank you to every single member on and off the grid today, as well as our two excellent drivers. your talent and dedication is unmatched by bounds. and to my husband, i could not be prouder of you. there are no words to describe the weight of my admiration for you.

lewishamilton it was all you, my love. all you. (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton so... you're letting me drive the car next time, yes? └ lewishamilton respectfully, not a chance in hell (♡ by author) └ y/nhamilton boooooo buzzkill alert

scuderiaferrari congratualtions on a fantastic race y/nhamilton! you two are one hell of a team. (♡ by author)

f1 the power couple energy in the room right now >> (♡ by author)

username14 PLEASE GIVE THE PERSON WORKING THE F1 MEDIA A RAISE THIS IS HILARIOUS username15 lando might have won the race, but goddamn lewis won the war

yourbestfriend AHHHH I LOVE MY WOMAN IN STEM (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton AHHH I LOVE YOU TOO SO SO MUCH (did you even watch the race bc i doubt you did) yourbestfriend im gonna hold your hand when i say no y/nhamilton IM BETRAYED

alexandrasaintmleux congrats y/n!!! love you lots XOXO (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton ahhh i love you more!! 💖

username16 does anyone else think she's using him for clout?! like she was a nobody before she married lewis

username17 okay ASSHOLE username18 ERM they're married so what its not like she married him to get famous she said in interviews that she prefers to be out of the spotlight anyway.... username19 yeah its so rude to assume she's 'using him for clout' when she has her own job?!! and life?!! like she doesn't need clout

maxverstappen1 great work today y/nhamilton! loved seeing you last weekend. (♡ by author)

♡

[YOUTUBE: Lewis Hamilton's first interview with Ferrari]

♡

♡

note: ermmmm what are these two muppets up to i dont even know they took my ideas and ran w them LOLSIES im def planning another part (since their contract marriage is two years long but.... they're obviously gonna fall in love)!! i wanna write the lovers part of enemies to lovers and lew's already getting jealous hehehe ♡ MUCH LOVE FROM GRACIE XOXO LOVE U ALL!!!!! ♡♡♡

[isuggestforcefem]

"I'm not sure I understand. What does that mean about me?"

The girl smacks her lips softly. I look at her, in confusion. It feels like every word of hers zips right past me, like her meaning is innacessible on purpose.

The girl answers, after a thought. "Well, what do you think it should mean for you?"

She smiles.

"I- I don't know what that question means." It feels very odd, to hear her web of words, and look upon it, as something that screams to me it ought to make sense, a sense which I can't find it within me to untangle.

"Tsk, tsk. Silly you." She giggles softly. "Let me start from the beginning one more time, then."

I nod. "Okay." My head feels odd, as if weighed down. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

"So." She takes a brief pause, breathes in. "You have me, in front of you, right?"

That makes sense, yeah. She's here, in front of me. "I think I understand so far, yeah."

"And then, you have you, right here," she continues.

So far so good. "Yup." It's not too confusing, for now.

"And then," She pauses again, gestures vaguely. "You have the world, around us."

"Around us, yeah." That makes sense. It all makes sense.

"You have my voice, and you have your voice." She continues, "You listen to my voice and I listen to yours."

"Of course, yeah. My voice, and your voice." And I listen to her voice.

"So you listen intently to my voice, because it's important."

"I do, I want to understand. So I need to make sure I listen."

I need to make sure I listen.

"And so you have us two together on one side, and the rest of the world on the other."

That talk of sides is a little confusing. The rest of the world is more around than aside, but it makes sense. And she's her and I'm me, and we're together so we make the other side. It makes sense.

"So far so good."

"So then, you have my voice and your voice, together."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Why?"

"I'm the one saying that, but it should be you saying it."

"And why is that?"

"You're the one explaining, and I'm the one trying to understand." I pause for a second. "That means I can't be the one explaining too."

"Why not?"

"If you're explaining, you should be the one saying this." Why did I say this?

"That's not the right question, the right mindset."

"What you're saying is that the only way you know you didn't say this is that it doesn't make sense for you to say it?"

"What do you mean."

"Your only tell is wether the words said fit the qualia of a role you assigned both yourself and I."

"But if that qualia is gone then what else is there to differen-tiate?"

"You're confusing me." My head is starting to ache a bit.

"Let me reexplain." She pauses, seems to think. "You have your voice and mine together on one 'side' and the rest on the other, right?"

"Yeah. I understand that much."

"Then, if your and my words are together, what keeps us apart?"

"I don't get it."

"In an other way- What am I? What are you?"

"I- " I think about it for a second. That question just doesn't make sense. "You're you, and I'm me. Right now, you're explaining me something that I can't understand. But later, maybe something else."

"Think beyond that. What tells you that something is me or that something is you?"

"Well right now I'm the one talking."

"And what tells you that?"

"It wouldn't make sense if you were the one talking."

"Why?"

"It's not your voice."

"Not my voice?"

A pause. We both look at each other. I think about how much I had to expain this, again and again. I hope he understands. We're waiting for him, the rest of us. Waiting for him to understand.

Finally, I speak again. "What is your voice?" What makes a voice as his?

"Well my voice is the one that. Well."

"You understand what I mean?"

"You have my voice and your voice?"

"And these two voices are together on one side, and the rest of the world on the other."

"Yeah but."

"But?"

"I'm not sure I understand. What does that mean about me?"

[acquelus-ussy]

Im thinking of...

Yandere!jock x wallflower!reader

Yandere!Jock is a fucking playboy, but you chose to ignore that. You've seen him do good things when his friends aren't around.

That's why you had a crush on him...

For a jock, he's pretty smart. He's a frat leader, a social butterfly, and would probably graduate with Latin honors. However, the only downside to him is that he can be a bully.

So, during the time you had a crush on him, he was the first to interact with you. But he wasn’t flirting or anything he was just asking if you were done with something.

And you being the wallflower that you are you blush you think to yourself

"is he really talking to me?"

And him, being the playboy jock, noticed the hue in your cheeks and decided to "play" with you.

"i can't believe you're blushing just because i talked to you wallflower haha cute"

It was a long time of banter between the two of you, and you thought there was something. But of course, reality strikes when a close friend of yours tells you his true intentions.

But...

Ever since you ignored our handsome jock over here He cant seem to get a hold of himself

He goes to nightclubs almost every night, trying to find a girl who looks like you, smells like you, and talks like you. But no matter how hard he tries, he knows he needs you.

The next day at school, you were in the library with a classmate, working on a school project, when he barged in. Oh yeah, he had been asking around if anyone had seen you it's not like he's in love or anything.

He pushes your classmate out of their chair and tells them to get lost. Then, grasping your arms, he looks at you and asks,

"Where the fuck have you been? We need to talk. I'm the most wanted man on campus, and you just ignore me like that? Doing that won’t make me give you more attention, you know."

"so what i don't fucking care i don't like you anymore"

Pang

What you said hurt him, but then again, why is he acting like this? A lot of girls love him and want to be with him, so what’s up with you? He knew you liked him but what the fuck happened?

Later that night... You wake up to glass shattering

Intruder?

A hand suddenly cups your mouth and you feel something hard on your back then you hear

"shh baby you got me all bricked~ up there's no use in fighting me i know how much of a fucking slut you are~"

The last thing you remember was passing out

You wake up to a soft, comfy bed but hold on… Why is there something heavy stopping you from moving? You turn your head and see him.

"You know, my love, a lot of girls dream about this… but you're the only one I want. I'm done being a player." He kisses you on the forehead.

"And also, don’t worry about school and your parents I called up some old buddies," he says, continuing to hug you like there's no tomorrow.

It sucks being a wallflower no one would look for you but don’t worry because he will~

---

This is probably the most longest fucking thing i wrote