#you start finding it hard to deny the evidence !!

[parkitaco]

for once in my goddamn life i would love to feel secure abt a relationship

[chuluoyi]

the secret wife

- nanami kento x reader

follow the first years’ misadventures as they find out that apparently, the infamous 7:3 sorcerer is also a dutiful and loving husband in private!

genre/warnings: crack, fluff, the first years are simply chaotic, an attempt at humor, gojo cameo (he’s so insufferable), mentions of pregnancy, nanami being the best husband there is

note: based on an anon's suggestion, this is a spin-off to love entries' wife (so gojo is married to love entries reader naturally!) this is full chaos and crack omg so sorry and isn't proofread bc i’m kinda tired so pls forgive any mistakes and my dry humor :')

general masterlist

On one fine, sunny day, which was supposed to be a calm and relaxing afternoon...

“Hello? Yuji—”

Megumi could've sworn, they weren't usually this nosy.

“Gojo-sensei! It's urgent!”

Call it indulgence, because Nobara's curiosity just got the better of her.

“Oh? What's—”

“Does Nanamin have a wife!?”

And Yuji... well, he just needed answers, because the three of them were now in the ‘Mom and Baby’ section of department store, having just witnessed a monumental sight of their esteemed mentor, Nanami Kento—

—with a remarkably stunning woman hanging onto his arm.

“Huh?” Gojo's confusion was evident from the other line. Oh, yeah. Yuji had decided to cut to the chase and call him too, hoping for a swift clarification.

Okay, so why were the trio—plus Gojo on the speakerphone—hiding behind a pillar just to spy on Nanami and his very possible wife? Let us rewind 30 minutes before...

Yuji considers himself to have an exceptional eye and taste for women.

And 30 minutes ago, when he fell on his butt on the rough, hard asphalt in the jammed Shibuya crossing after accidentally getting shoved by the crowd, and encountered a kind, vivacious older woman—you, who extended a hand to help him up, he was even more convinced of that.

“Are you alright, Itadori-kun?” your soft voice entered his ears, catching him off-guard, and Yuji was certain of two things then.

One, that you were just like a literal angel descended from skies above, all dolled up and pretty with your flowy sundress.

“Ah, uh—” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere and anywhere at once as his palm started sweating after clasping your hand. “I-I am…”

And two, for the life of him, he had no idea who you were.

But it registered late in his mind to ask as he was busy controlling his ragged breathing and instant crush, and before Yuji knew it, you graced him with another kind smile and went on your way.

And did he feel so miserable afterwards.

. . .

“She’s sooo hella pretty, Fushiguro! And she knows me! Me!”

Megumi sighed, eyeing his friend in disgust. Truthfully, all he wanted was to return to the dorms and collapse onto his bed, and not listen to his friend’s incoherent ramblings.

"You sure you weren't imagining things?" Nobara questioned with slight irritation. "After you embarrassed us in front of Gojo-sensei's wife a while back, please think more before you act."

"I'm not, I swear! She said my name!"

"Itadori, can you please just not?" Megumi grumbled, having enough of this ruckus. "I want to walk back in peace."

And so tucking away his pout, Yuji walked in silence just as his best friend asked, and he was really going to leave it at that when suddenly he caught the sight of a familiar pristine coat and the sundress from earlier. “Oh?”

"Isn't that Nanami-san?" Nobara also spotted him, her eyes widening when she saw you, who was happily beaming as well as Nanami's light chuckle. "And wait, who is—?"

"That's her!" Yuji burst out, pointing decisively in your direction. "That's who I was talking about!"

Oh, no. Megumi dreaded it already. He could already see the utter catastrophe—

"I'm going after them!"

"Wait, Itadori! Me too!"

Too late. Before he could stop them, Nobara and Yuji had followed the pair. Reluctantly, Megumi trailed behind them too, albeit wearing a vexed scowl. Yet despite his misgivings, he couldn't deny that the things he saw over the next 30 minutes were genuinely unexpected.

Nanami consistently led you to a quieter spot away from the bustling crowd, his hand holding yours firmly. He would occasionally throw you a smile, or when you didn’t hold hands, then he’d wrap an arm around your waist. And to the trio's bewilderment, they also saw him tenderly brushing his lips against your head while on the escalator.

Soft and gentle. It was a side of Nanami Kento they had never witnessed—either with anyone else or even himself.

The two of you ventured through home appliances, visited food stalls, and eventually... the ‘Mom and Baby’ section.

"Do you want to rest for a bit?" Nanami's voice held a touch of concern as his hand settled on the small of your back, and seeing that, Nobara positively swooned.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," you responded with a reassuring smile. "Let's head over there. I'd like to see that next!"

Watching you and Nanami meticulously going through strollers and cribs like a pair of would-be parents was apparently too mind-blowing for Yuji and Nobara, leading to the decision to call Gojo right then and there. And, as they say, the rest was history.

"Last I heard, Nanami wasn't married," Gojo answered resolutely. "If he is, then it's the ultimate betrayal because he never told me!"

"But we see him with a woman! At mother and baby care section!"

Gojo hummed in thoughtful manner. "Okay, students. Now I'm tasking you to see this to the very end! Keep me on the line!"

With that, Operation: Uncover Nanami's Wife was officially underway, and frankly, the way the three of them were clumsily tailing the 7:3 sorcerer made Megumi want to facepalm. How was it that Nanami hadn't noticed their rather conspicuous attempts at all?

Now you were fawning over baby clothes, cutely trying not to squeal as you picked a little blue and yellow overalls. "Kento! Kento! Look, how cute!"

And all of them were floored once again when the expression on his face softened, as a warm smile adorned his lips. "Yeah, they are."

"Is she pregnant? She doesn't look it..." Nobara remarked, squinting and frowning, still watching the two of you like a hawk.

"Or maybe they're shopping for someone else?" Megumi suggested, earning teasing grins from Yuji and Nobara, to which he quickly rolled his eyes, as they chorused, "Looks like you're curious too!"

After a while, you moved from the clothes to sections stocked with mother's necessities. Yuji leaned against one of the racks, pressing his ear against it, with Nobara and Megumi crowding behind him, attempting to catch a snippet of your conversation with Nanami.

"I think we should get some heat packs and these pillows—"

"Oh, Kento! You're such a worrywart, I still won't need them for a few more months—"

"Wait, what?" Yuji whipped his head around in surprise, causing Nobara, who was leaning on him, to stumble and inadvertently collide with the racks.

"Eh? Huh!?"

Unfortunately, the racks weren't sturdy enough, and the force caused them to sway dangerously. Nobara, sensing her imminent fall, instinctively grabbed Yuji's arm to steady herself. However, he got tugged instead and their combined weight exacerbated the situation, leading to the racks quickly toppling over and a deafening commotion ensued—

Crash!

"Careful!" Nanami immediately pulled you behind him, a protective arm around your shoulder, sensing your shock from the sudden crash. He was on high alert, expecting some sort of attack of cursed spirits, but instead, he was met with the most astounding sight of the bickering culprits amidst the fallen racks.

"Kugisaki! What are you doing!"

"You dumbass! Why didn't you stop me from falling?!"

"Itadori-kun...?" Nanami called out in utter disbelief, his mind couldn't fathom as to why the first years were here. However, his attention quickly shifted to Megumi, who was seething and sending his friends a glare so hard it could drill a hole into them.

Then, the boy swiftly fixed himself into a low bow in front of him, ashamed, disregarding Yuji and Nobara's groans altogether. "Nanami-san, I'm very, very sorry on their behalf."

"What are the three of you doing here?" he inquired, and poor Megumi seemed at a loss, huffing as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start.

Meanwhile you were full of worry for the fallen kids. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"

For the second time today, you tried to help Yuji to stand on his feet, and this time, he really had a good look over you.

It wasn't exactly noticeable due to how loose your dress was, but now he could see that under it, your belly was slightly rounded—an unmistakable baby bump.

Amidst his shock and pain, Yuji couldn't bring himself to take your hand as he inadvertently let this slip, "N-Nanamin! You knocked her up!"

Nanami blinked. You gaped. Megumi and Nobara went pale in sheer horror, ready to murder their friend on the spot for his extreme height of rudeness.

“Itadori-kun,” Nanami cleared his throat then, and if he was offended, then he chose not to show it. “First of all, I’m sorry for not introducing you sooner. This is Y/N, my wife, and yes,” his tone hardened slightly, “She’s carrying our first child.”

“S-so you are married!”

“Yes, that was what I—”

“What the hell?! NANAMIIII!”

Oh, the freaking phone. After his fall, Yuji’s phone ended up on the floor, and of course, Gojo did hear all of the entire madness, evident from how his voice blared from the phone.

Nanami frowned, unwittingly reaching out towards the phone. “Who—?”

“NA-NA-MI!" Gojo screeched in righteous exasperation, and the former immediately pulled away from the phone with a cringe. “How could you?! I invited you to my wedding! Are you a hermit or something—how could not tell anyone!? Didn’t you say I can officiate—”

“I said no such thing. Please refrain from saying outrageous things, it’s both annoying and misleading,” Nanami stressed, growing more irritated by the mere sound of Gojo's whining voice and feeling his patience waning rapidly.

"Aren't we friends?! How—!"

"Should I find you instigate one more of this... shenanigans with the kids, I won't hesitate to report you to Yaga and your wife," he interjected then with clear irritation, and right that second, Gojo shut himself up.

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi couldn't help drawing that one conclusion in wonder: So, that's what Gojo-sensei is afraid of.

Nanami swiftly ended the call with a flick of his finger, returning the phone to the still mystified Yuji. Turning back to the trio, Nanami's irritation simmered as he glanced at the mess of broken goods on the floor, as well as noticing the approaching clerks.

"You three..." Nanami started, his voice rising slightly, unfaltering even as the three of them flinched. "Do you realize what you've done? Are you so idle that you can ditch your assignments?"

"Kento, don't be too harsh," you rebuked, placing a hand on his arm with a frown on your face. Nanami sighed, looking over the situation once again. It was a whole rack of baby necessities destroyed; plates, glasses, and whatnot scattered across the floor.

Nobara bit her lip in anxiety. “Oh my god, who's going to pay for all this damage?” She could already imagine the staggering amount this mess would cost. This is worth millions, anyone can go bankrupt.

There was only one person who can and will. Immediately, both Nanami and Megumi turned to her with a shared resolve.

"Gojo," Megumi blurted.

"He will be charged for everything," Nanami added with spite.

Epilogue

"You just love those kids, don't you, Kento?"

That night, when both of you were ready for sleep, Nanami had one hand caressing your still growing belly, and you teased him with a chuckle.

"Huh?" your husband looked at you in mild confusion as he stopped stroking you. "What do you mean?"

You giggled again. "You said to put it on Gojo's name, but in the end, you were the one who covered the damages first."

Nanami huffed lightly. "That's because I can't get the kids in trouble. But mark my words, I'll make sure Gojo pays up later, by force if I need to." He made a face when he remembered just what a massive bill it was. "That's too much money to be spent carelessly. We have our child and our future to consider."

"You're always like that," you sighed fondly, taking his hand and placing it back to the swell of your belly. "Always on the first line of defense for the students." Your smile widened. "It makes me think... just how lucky our kid will be with you as their father."

"On the contrary, I'm counting my blessings that they'll have someone as soft as you for their mother," your husband retorted with a smile, kissing your temple. And your heart melted into a puddle by his affectionate gesture.

"That's too sweet... ah, yeah," suddenly, you were reminded of a critical thing. “Kento, have you ever considered telling everyone else that we're married? At least to people at school?”

Nanami always wanted privacy for safety reasons most of the time, and you understood that, but seeing that Gojo and the first years knew already, you thought it might be the best time to let everyone know.

"I honestly don’t see the need to, why?"

"People like Gojo are confused—"

Your husband rolled his eyes then. "Don’t worry, dear. People like Gojo exist to spread the word so we don't have to."

[forlix]

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.2k / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・chan x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, berry being the perfect girl she is. inspired by these bubble messages and @cosmic-railwayxo's treachery. (love u deni)

𝟬𝟲:𝟯𝟲 — “Where’s my baby, hm?”

This is the question on Chan’s lips the moment he lets go of the bedroom door, closed with agonizing caution as to not wake the figure still curled up under the duvet inside.

It’s early. Early enough so the walls are colored a rich beige by new rays of sunlight, so his footsteps are the only sound reverberating around the hallways when he commences his search. Early enough to evidence how he was only bestowed a few hours of sleep before waking up with a budding headache and leaden eyelids.

But he doesn’t mind the lack of rest, not this time. Not when there’s a wad of love with a freckled snout and floppy ears under the same roof for the first time in too long.

“Berry?” Chan calls, his voice tattered and low, like sandpaper. He rakes his eyes over the spots he remembers to be her favorite. Maybe they’ve changed since he was last home. Maybe everything has changed since he was last home.

The thought causes a familiar pang to go off within him, poignant and powerful, but the quiet scuffle of paws against hardwood takes the edge off the guilt straightaway.

Chan finds the beginnings of a smile on his lips before she even rounds the corner, and when she does, well. His grin might as well split his face down the middle. He’s on his knees in seconds, outstretched hands rediscovering home in the puppy’s silky fur as she clambers onto him with blown pupils and excited pants.

His adoring coos of her name falter into muted laughter, which then fragments into a sob. His vision narrows to his precious girl and then starts to blur. When Berry climbs up to give his cheek a few happy licks, she’s fascinated by its saltiness.

You emerge from the bedroom a little over an hour later. Sleeping is hard enough when you’re jetlagged, and even harder when there’s only mattress where you remember Chan’s warm solidity to be. The fabric of Chan’s hoodie suppresses your vocalization of his name as you ungracefully pull it over your torso, still struggling to rouse your body from sleep.

Your beckon produces no response. You wrap a hand around the nearest door frame and peek your head into the living room, a little more alert now.

“Chan? Baby?”

You feel silly. How many visits has it been for you to still feel this nervous, wandering around Chan’s family home? Yet you undoubtedly are, whether because of your absentee boyfriend or that his whole family is a few walls away. You pad through the silent abode with mounting trepidation and intense care to not make any more sound than necessary.

Then you reach the family room and instantly come to a standstill, hands drifting to your sides, features deliquescing to a soft smile. 

Lying on the nearest couch is your boyfriend, head propped up on top of his elbow, his fluttering lashes and gently oscillating shoulders indicating that he’s asleep. You can’t see his face below his eyes, as he has his nose nuzzled into the Cavalier spaniel resting securely in his arms, snoring tacitly into his sleeve, slumbering as deeply as her human companion.

You’ve been stumbling upon Chan sleeping in unexpected places for the better part of two years now, but you still liquefy every time as if it’s the first. These are the moments, you’ve come to realize, when you can care for him in ways he would never let you while conscious: a lift of his laptop off his thighs, a brush of your lips against his hairline, a cardigan draped lightly over his back. These are the moments when you understand in full how far you’ve come together, for him to trust you with his exhaustion with such transparency, to be so vulnerable as to leave you with memories of him that he’ll never have.

Despite your prolonged experience, it’s hard to describe what exactly you’re feeling in this moment. The mere mention of Berry has always dissipated the shadows that veil his face, has always chased off the burdens that cling to his spine. How do you put it into words, seeing your happiness at his happiest?

It suddenly occurs to you that the window beside them is cracked open. That, and you spotted extra quilts in the top shelf of Chan’s closet last night.

Chan’s eyelids lift when he feels the gentle weight of a blanket fall upon his body; so do the corners of his lips, when the culprit materializes before him. Sitting on the edge of the couch, a hand hovering over his frame, face creased into a flinch.

“Sorry,” you whisper, closing the distance between your fingers and the curve of his neck. The pad of your thumb moves over his cheekbone like a willow branch skimming water. “I didn’t think that would wake you up.”

Both of you up, you mentally amend, seeing as Berry has noticed your presence and is wagging her tail with enough vigor for it to thump against Chan’s chest. He lets her wriggle out of his arms and into yours; you emit a noise of glee and gather her into you.

If only you had seen the expression he wears then, watching your eyes scrunch closed at the frenzied kisses she presses to your face. His first love and his very last.

“Don’t apologize,” he answers. “I’m the one who should be sorry for leaving you in bed, I just…”

His voice trails off, but he knows by the softness in your irises when they meet his that you already know.

You move like clockwork. Chan presses up into the back of the couch, the quilt’s edge lifted in wordless invitation. It is your chest that Berry burrows into this time, the top of her head sliding into the space between your chin and the sofa’s cushion. It is Chan’s chest that you’re folded into, the arms around your waist like the coziest of cabins in a sun-spattered wood. It is the back of your neck that he nuzzles his nose into, but not before he litters gossamer kisses across the expanse of skin, as if printing the notes to a lullaby he knows well.

Everything is warm, so warm, so right, and jetlag starts to feel like a distant trouble.

You open your mouth while teetering on the cusp of a dream.

“Baby?” 

He hums into you, listening.

“Always be happy, okay?”

You don’t notice the solitary tear that traverses the bridge of his nose, lands in the cotton of your hood, and dyes the bunched-up fabric a few shades darker. You don’t notice how his embrace around you tightens marginally, like how one’s eyes can’t help but find their dearest possession when the building’s on fire.

“Okay,” he whispers, and kisses your nape once more. Your and Chan’s eyes close together. Berry licks your chin again, then follows suit.

(Another hour later, Chan’s parents walk into the family room. They decide to go out to breakfast for fear of making too much noise in the kitchen, Chan’s mother blotting away tears as she ducks into shotgun, Chan’s father laughing at her sentimentality while blinking back his own.

Another few hours later, Hannah takes maybe fifty-some photographs of the triad of unmoving heaps occupying their couch. Then she grumbles at Berry for being dead asleep at eleven in the morning: “Those two arrived here from across the world yesterday. What’s your excuse?”)

🔖 (send an ask or reply to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・ @automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8

© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support.

[saduko]

PAY YOUR DEBT

Lando Norris x Driver!Reader 7.6K words

Summary: Lando's Austrian crash could not have come at a worse time, and now he's scrambling to find someone to replace him in the upcoming Quadrant video. He's so lucky you care, and that you're horrible at lying. Or in which, reader takes Lando's place during Quadrants; 'Spill Your Guts', and they manage to pull some interesting information out of her.

Childhood Friends to Lovers, Pining, Slowburn

Despite having never met you, the cast of Quadrant were more than familiar with your name for one of a few reasons. The first being that, you were of course, a renowned Formula 1 driver beloved by many. The second being their own proximity with another famous Formula 1 driver who so happened to be your Mclaren teammate. 

For years they watched from a distance, saw your interviews and watched your races, cheering their team in orange on as the two of you dominated race weekends once again. It was obvious Lando was fond of you just off the way the two interacted on track, but beyond their parasocial concept of your relationship, they knew he liked you because of the sheer number of times your name was mentioned in the Quadrant circle. Lando’s inability to refrain from speaking about you was frankly an ongoing joke at this point. Though they playfully rolled their eyes at every mention of your name, they knew they couldn't necessarily criticize him for it either. Its hard not to talk about people you spend a lot of time around, and naturally, with you two being teammates and all, it wasn’t all that strange for him to want speak about you.

And when they consider the fact that your history stems way beyond just the devoted McLaren camaraderie you share, it’s hard to be mad at him when he brings you up. You two did grow up carting together after all, entering every stage of your lives with the other. You were childhood friends.

Except they had also spent a lot of time with Lando. Yeah, you might work with him, but so do they, and they knew he wasn't just talking about you because you were around often. They knew he wasn't just mentioning you because you grew up swerving along the same tracks or because you now wore the same bright papaya orange.

The man so obviously liked you and they all knew it. He mentioned your smile far too often to hide it, and he always seemed a bit too proud when he talked about being the reason you did. Not a single Quadrant member has ever spoken to you before, and yet somehow each one could articulate the way your eyes crinkled tight when you laughed or how your lips pursed hard when you found something funny but didn't want to show it.

He liked you, even if he denied it.

And so the Quadrant cast begged and begged to meet you. Eager to see the woman who has evidently captured the man's attention, despite his insistence to the contrary to no avail. Though, their efforts hadn't entirely fallen on deaf ears; in fact, Lando had been trying to get you in a Quadrant video since he founded the damn company, begging for nearly four years, only to be met with the same dismissive glare from your gleaming eyes every time.

“One day, Lando. Not today.” 

One day, you would say. Though he’s starting to think one day is no day at all. In your defense, opportunities away from the relentless gaze of the media are far and few between and the brief moments of peace you manage to find are precious. The thought of spending that private time filming yet another video for millions to watch has never been particularly enticing. As much as you care for Lando, sometimes you cherish your downtime just a little bit more.

But... this time he was stressed, and you could see it. He was supposed to film a Quadrant video this week. Finally home in London for this week’s Grand Prix, at last, he was able to put a little more effort into his personal business. It was one of the very few times a year he was able to participate in the creative side of the brand. The whole video had been planned, written, set up and was ready to be shot. The date was set, it was finally coming together. But then Lando crashed. He crashed in Austria and now his work at Mclaren had essentially been doubled for Silverstone week and he had no time to film. And now all the week’s worth of effort put into preparing the video had been flung out the window. It was supposed to be yet another spill your guts video focused on Lando and his career but now with last week's events disrupting this week's schedule, they were going to have to rewrite all the questions and find someone to fill his spot.

And so you’d watched him for the past few days on calls, asking around to see who could be available on such short notice. Between his team of producers, the other members of Quadrant and possible candidates for the video, on top of the copious amounts of obligations he had at the Mclaren headquarters, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty knowing you were spending all the current free time you had between track work lounging around the Hilton pool. You technically had no reason not to help. Changing the script wouldn’t be an easy task with the little time they had. You knew filling in meant they would have their empty spot filled and they wouldn’t need to tweak the script as much. You were a driver too, the questions they would have asked Lando still mostly applied to you as well. And you knew it’d do Lando a huge favor; lift such a massive weight off his already heavy shoulders so he could run around McLaren focusing on what actually mattered most this week - getting his car ready for the upcoming race.

And so you did it. You smiled so kindly at Lando on that faithful Wednesday afternoon and so calmly announced that if he was struggling to find a replacement, you’d be happy to help him out just this once. It was finally one day, you would take the spot for Quadrant.

Landos face had never expressed so much surprise yet simultaneous relief. And it was only a matter of seconds until Landos arm had reached entirely around your waist and your feet had left the ground. You caught a few questioning glares being sent your way from a couple Mclaren engineers in the garage, but the breath struggling to find its way to your lips at the force of it all left you unbothered. “Y/n, thank you so much, you don’t understand how much this helps me out! I owe you so bad.” 

You would never say it to him, but his smile in that moment had almost paid his debt entirely right then and there. All the nerves and doubt about the decision you just made had nearly swept right by as you watched his face light with adoration. But instead you sent him a defeated grin as he placed you down on your heels. “I’m gonna hold you to your words. I better not regret this.”

“You won't, I swear.”

__ Regret this you will. As soon as the quadrant team had received the call that in his place, Lando's fellow teammate would instead be filling in for his absence, they immediately knew this wouldn’t be the video everyone was anticipating. They would take this opportunity to finally squeeze out the information they had been waiting to know for years. This would be their first time meeting you, and god was it a gold's mine worth of an opportunity. Not only would they be able to question you about your life as an F1 driver, they could also question you about your romantic life as an F1 driver, specifically about your relationship with Lando, a topic you successfully eluded everywhere else. But this video was the perfect opportunity. They would have a polygraph on set, and you were doing Lando a favor. You couldn’t leave and most importantly, you couldn’t lie.

The topic of your love life wasn't a new one, and a flurry of greedy journalists digging for a story have attempted to ask about your potential feelings for anyone and everyone on the grid. You always denied ever liking any fellow drivers and kept adamant that your driving and personal lives stay separate. But they had Lando as a secondary source - maybe to a fault - and from everything the man had explained, there was no way you weren't at least a little into him. And they were gonna get it out of you.

Was it a bit unethical? Maybe. Was it manipulative? Perhaps. Had Lando already told them he’d cut their pay if they fucked with you. Absolutely. But he’d be fine once he hears what you would inevitably say. He could thank them after they got you to confess the crush you just had to have on Lando. 

So here you were, staring at a set full of very enthusiastic YouTubers, all beyond eager to be sharing a table with the phantom of a woman they had been hearing about for almost 4 years now.

Not only were you a talented and beloved motorsports athlete, more importantly, you were the girl their mate liked. and as a friend, they were curious, but as youtubers, they were out for blood. And if there's one thing a group of Youtubers were going to do, it was get you to admit your deepest darkest secrets for online content.

There would be no filling, only spilling, they'd be sure of that.

Oblivious as you were, despite how nervous you initially felt about participating in the video, it had been smooth sailing so far along. Everyone was nice enough and you could see why Lando enjoyed the company of these people, they were all quite funny after all, and the questions were not the absolute mood draining, time wasters you were used to receiving.

You were nervous coming into this but maybe this wouldn’t be all that bad.

The table settled from their laughter as Ria finally swallowed whatever it was she had been forced to bite into. Bull testicles? You didn’t want to know, and honestly it didn’t really matter all that much anymore because for the third time round, it was your turn again, and you were now being strapped up to the Polygraph machine.

Max Fewtrell's eyes sparked with a menacing joy as they locked with your own. He was hosting this video, meaning he was safe from the contents of the table, but more importantly, he got to interrogate the girl his best mate was into. He was the only person who knew that for a fact thanks to the multitude of conversations Lando has had with him in private, begging for advice on what to do. As bad as he felt about it, Max could never give Lando a straight answer, he didn’t know his fellow driver, didn’t know what it was she felt, and if she truly meant what she was saying in her interviews, it wasn’t looking too good for his friend.

This was finally his opportunity to help out.

“Y/n…” His voice carried menacingly around the room, dragging out each syllable to draw the suspense. You eyed him playfully, keeping your guard up as his eyes flickered from you to the card in his hand and then back up to you a few times. The last few questions had been relatively tame, all relating to your job; who your favorite team really was, who you disliked the most on the grid, (you'd had your fair few arguments with Stroll, but you bit into an 1000 year old egg because you were not going to admit it.)

A part of you hoped they were giving you easy questions because you were a guest - a good friend of Landos at that, but at the back of your mind you knew better. And that’s why when the question escaped Max’s lips, you really didn’t feel all that surprised. “Do you really mean it when you say you like to keep your professional life and your private life separate?”

Simple enough, but you were smart enough to know the implications of the question, so you hesitated. “... Yes.”

A pause, no buzz. “That’s true.” Ethan comments.

“Okay that’s too easy, let me rephrase it.” Max’s gaze bore straight into your own. “Do you really mean it when you say you don’t see any of the boys on the grid as like, candidates? You don’t find any of them attractive?”

The groan that escaped you was so inherently guttural you hadn’t even noticed you made the noise. Everyone laughed at your reaction and it seemed so light hearted on the surface, but inside your mind was beginning to race, heartbeat speeding up as if the peddle was full throttle. This was exactly what you were nervous about.

You had felt a bit uneasy once finding out a polygraph machine would be present, and crossed your fingers that the team wouldn’t get into the topic of your romantic ties with the boys on the grid. You guess your luck didn't really extend past the track. initially, no ties with the other drivers sparked any fears within you at the question. You really didn't have any romantic ideas of anyone, the others truly were just friends, boys you grew up with, some like brothers. None of the boys had ever made your eyes wander, or ever had your heart skipping beats when you made eye contact. There wasn’t a single driver you could think of that had ever made you nervous or left you hoping for anything more than just a friendship. No one except that one boy. That one stupid boy that had led you into this goddamned position in the first place. That one stupid boy who’s mates were all gathered around the table with eager eyes directed entirely towards you, waiting for an answer. This was truly your worst nightmare. Maybe you did like Lando, maybe the moment had awoken within your days in F2; seeing him grow from the scrawny kid on the track to something else entirely. So what of it? No one needed to know that. Curse you and your incessant want to help that stupid boy through his stress. Why did he need to make you care about him enough to do this? Now, you could ‘fill your guts' if you really wanted to, but with a yes or no question like this, no answer is just as much an answer in itself. You had watched this game enough to know how it worked, and so you opted to take your chances against the polygraph machine. “Yes I mean it.” One phrase. A simple phrase muttered through a guilty smile, and yet you could hear your heart through your ribs as you told the lie and it was so, so silent after that. The anticipation felt like the devil himself had engulfed the room in its glory. The faces at the table had your palms sweating further and Ginge’s ability to hold such intense eye contact left you wondering if there was more to this than it seemed. God, was this the longest 3 seconds of your life. But you were good under pressure. If you can keep your heart steady driving at 350 kilometers an hour, you could keep your heart steady enough to lie your way out of this question-

Beep.

Suddenly the room was ablaze with noise, yelling and screaming as everyone expressed their disbelief yet absolute excitement at the answer. Incoherent sentences thrown your way one on top of the other but your brain couldn’t decipher a single sentence, instead engulfed in the thought of how much this would change the way all the boys spoke to you, how Lando spoke to you, now that they knew you did like someone. You could already hear Danny’s teasing voice followed up by his sly, all knowing smirk. Fuck. Was it too late to back out? Maybe you could bribe Lando into deleting the footage. 

But as you glanced forward into Max’s eyes, you saw the silent omniscient smirk that trickled on to his face - like the calm amidst the chaos - and you knew there was no going back. You were cooked. Your face fell into the palm of your hands, sheepish laughs slipping past your lips as you spoke in a slow, bashful tone, “No! It’s-.. It’s not like that!” But damage control is useless when the damage is already done. “Oh really?!” Ginges thick accent was next to echo across the room over top all the others, “Cause it seems like you’ve been secretly canoodling with some fast bastards and lying to all us about it!”

Ethan was the first to laugh, and soon everyone else's laughter followed suit, and as defeated as you felt a loud chuckle slipped past your lips at the comment. At the very least they were being funny about it and not trying to make a huge deal of it.

However, for the time being they couldn't prove it but once you admitted it, there was no going back, so you figured doubling down and playing dumb was the best option. “No- like, okay; the boys are good looking, they're attractive but that doesn't mean I necessarily like any of them. I grew up with these boys, you know, they’re like brothers to me. Your machine is definitely bugging out or something.”

“Nah, I think it’s working fine.” The reintroduction of Max’s voice had the room settling once again. It seemed all the quadrant members were on the edge of their seats, like they had been anticipating this the whole time.

“But if you’re sure it’s not working properly, I can try asking a different question, rephrase it a little better for you?" Max's face turned towards the camera. "In fact, we have a little tradition here!” His eyes gazing through the lens as he spoke. “Spill your guts tradition says that guests have to answer the final question and rules are no eating on the last round.” Now his eyes turned to you, “Truth’s only, so I hope you have your answer ready.”

You were just moments away from opening your mouth to protest, the words at the tip of your tongue; No thanks it’s fine,’ or even just a ‘I’ve already answered two questions, it’s not my turn anymore.’ as petty as it was. But the words were never able to slip past your overly gnawed on lips before your heart was sinking to the absolute pits of your stomach. “Who do you like on the grid and why is it Lando?”

Panic. “God! No- no it’s not Lando!” Deny. “Definitely, not Lando!” Deny.

The polygraph machine was silent for a moment as everyones eyes flickered over to the screen, and you endured the tension in real time as your forehead came down, lips pursing. And yet nothing came, no beeping sound to be heard. 

To this all the boys are silent, and Ria’s eyes flicker up to Max as the man furrows his brows down. There was no way they managed to make the driver inadvertently admit she liked someone, just for it to not be Lando. You had to like him. All the stories Lando told him, all the words you spoke to him repeated back to Max, all the looks Lando was adamant he observed. All the nights clubbing, celebrating their wins together in videos Max himself saw. Your hands would travel just a little too far up, or your eyes would hold his just a little too long. It had to be Lando. He knows it.

“Okay, okay fair enough. Then I'll ask again, more direct. Y/n, do you like Lan-”

You knew the flaring panic in your eyes was not doing much to help your case, neither were your next words, but by the grace of god, or maybe his pity, that machine didn't beep despite your lie and you had just been handed an out, and lord be damned if you weren't going to capitalize on that inconclusive result. “Wait!” 

You need to be smart about this. You needed to give them something they wanted whilst not giving them everything. A little sacrifice to spare a lifetime of embarrassment, and probably a long and testing conversation between you and Lando. “How about I take one bite of every single thing on this table, chew and swallow instead.” Your eyes held so much hope, pleading for an out but Max only laughs at your soft little doe eyed expression and you couldn't help but frown. 

“Okay, that’d be quite funny.” Ria’s laugh suddenly bit the air, and you had to silently thank her for subverting the attention elsewhere for a moment.

“I wouldn’t do that for no one, especially not for Lando. Are you sure you don’t like him y/n?” You knew Niran was joking but god did his comment make your hands sweat. Calm down.

Max shrugged, ignoring the remarks of his fellow Quadrant members. “Rules are rules, can’t eat your way out of the last question, you have to answer.”

You have to think fast. “...Okay, well…" Hm. "How about this?” It’s the only thing you could think of on the fly, but maybe it’ll work. “I’ll tell you the details, but- I won’t mention any names. So you get to know the whens and what’s, without knowing the who’s." Your laugh was light hearted, though it sounded more nervous than humorous.

A silence suddenly engulfed the room, eyes darting back and forth as the people on the table thought over the offer. In fact the room was so silent, you felt you could hear the gears turning in their heads and you couldn’t help but feel your heart rate speed up just a little more at the prospect. These people were essentially marketing geniuses. They were youtubers whose jobs it was to get as many views as possible. Whatever the decision, you knew it wasn’t about to be in your favor, but about what favored Quadrant as a brand. You were no good at marketing - you drove fast cars even faster for god sake, but damn if you didn’t hope your idea was good enough for them. 

Ginge’s voice was the first to sound. “Nah, nah, stop trying to change the conversation speedy gonzales, you think ‘cause you’re a bloody F1 driver you can- you can bend the rules!? It may slide over there princess but it ain’t gonna slide ‘ere.” His finger pointed down into the table with a glare that almost felt real and you were really trying to think but now you were laughing. 

So was everyone else apparently, because it took you a moment to hear Steve’s smooth voice through all the noise, “Alright, but we’re already putting the girl through a lot.” Then finally Max spoke again. He was really starting to feel like the governing power here, “Okay hear me out. Names are easy to find when you have a story. We get the story and then we evaluate.” His eyes bore directly at you, laughing as he spoke. Max knew with whatever story you told, he could just go right to Lando and together they could eventually connect the dots. He wasn’t trying to out you to everyone… just to Lando.

After a moment of deliberation Aarav spoke, “All agreed?” To which everyone seemed to nod in agreement.

Max nodded his head. “Alright Y/n, you win. In that case, this guy you like-” 

“-I don’t like him-” “-How long are we talking?... This guy you like.” The last comment had a playful laugh leaving your lips as you brought your nail to your mouth. He was purposefully pushing your buttons.

Your lips, previously curled into a smile, had now pursed at the question. “I don’t like him.” You reiterate. “It was like a small little crush if anything.”

“Was it recent?” Max questioned. “No, god it was years ago.”

Beep. Fuck, you completely forgot about the Polygraph. You could ring that stupid things neck. Come on, man throw me a bone or something. Max smiled at the revelation, glancing over at Ria as she spoke through her smirk. “Must be more than just a small little crush if your heart beat is rising at the thought of him.” To this, your head hung low as your laugh sounded. “I plead the fifth.”

You couldn’t even imagine how you would look to any viewers at home once this came out. They had well and truly cornered you here. 

“Well this isn’t a bloody democracy now is it, this is an ambush.” You're very right Ginge this really is an ambush, you thought. There might be no escaping this one.

“When did you first notice you liked this person?” Ria was determined to keep the conversion on track. This is the most anyone had ever gotten out of you regarding your love life, and it being about another driver? Potentially Lando?! They were so close to what they wanted. You were silent for a moment, assessing the people staring on with anticipation. You’d only ever told this story to two people, your mom and your best friend. Were you really about to expose it to the world? The polygraph strapped to your chest said you were. 

“I-... I first felt it a couple years back.”

Compliance. They got you.

“How far back we talking?” Max questioned.

“I don’t know…” your eyes flickered up at him. “Maybe early F2 days?” Ria’s eyes just about bugged out of her head as you answered, hands coming down onto the table with a gasp. “That’s like over 5 years ago!” Her reaction had you groaning, face turning a shade red enough to match the ferraris you race against as you sunk down into your seat. “Now I need to know! There had to have been a moment where you felt it! Because you had been racing with these boys for years! There has to be a moment of clarity, or was it like, progressive? Or-?”

“It- It was definitely progressive in some ways but I do remember the moment it kind of.. hit me.”

“Was it sudden?”

“So sudden.” You laughed. “Tell us!” It felt strange to engage in this conversation, you had sworn to yourself that no one else would ever hear about the feelings you had buried away for years now. Was it better to speak or to die? That truly was the question… But, It was out now, everyone knew you had feelings for one of your teammates; at least one of your F2 ones. What more harm could the details afflict? Besides you’d raced against a multitude of drivers in your F2 career, many of which never even made it to the current F1 grid so the chances of anyone guessing who you were even talking about had to be slim. Speak it was. 

“We were-” The observant eyes of the Quadrant members beamed on at you as you bit your lip in deliberation, but the debate in your brain was finally over, and so you took a breath in.

“We were in between seasons beforehand, so I hadn’t really seen the boys in a few months. And I remember walking into one of the common rooms, where a bunch of the boys were all sitting around before the race, and again, I hadn’t seen these boys for quite a bit.” Your hands moved with every word you spoke, “And the thing about the F2 is that, we were all about 17 to 18 right, so most of the boys had already had their growth spurts, puberty and all that… except for this one guy.” Your eyes were bright as you recalled the memory, a laugh chasing the ends of your lips as the table fell silent.

“And at this rate - in my 17 year old brain - the only thing that ever really mattered to me was racing. Like I could genuinely have cared less about boys and relationships and all that, I’d never had a boyfriend and I was so disinterested in it. To me these boys were my friends off track and my competitors on, nothing in between. So I remember seeing everyone I hadn't seen for while and not really thinking much of it. But then my eyes kind of looked on and… noticed.. him.” God that sounds so corny but you were trying to be inconspicuous, not give away too many details. It wasn’t working.

“Him?” Max smirked. 

“Him.”  You doubled down. “The person.” You glared as a light laugh sounded. “He had always been a bit more on the smaller side, I guess? A 'late bloomer.'” The phrase came to you. “And I don’t know what the fuck happened in those four months we were away but god did puberty hit that motherfucker like a truck.” This time the laughter was a lot louder and you leant back, suddenly a little more comfortable now that the weight had been lifted off your chest. “It was like, he had gone from this scrawny little kid everyone used to pick on to this… man in the blink of an eye and my brain could not comprehend it.”

“Moment of clarity.” Ria laughed and you laughed alongside her.

“No really! Like that’s really what it felt like. I remember hugging everyone because I hadn’t seen them in so long, but when it came to this guy, I just, like- stared and nodded at him and he gave me the weirdest look cause I'd never done that before!” Your voice was thick with embarrassment as you chuckled, and everyone joined in your laughter. Then you stuck up your pointer finger. “But it gets worse.” You swallowed. “So my brain’s already kind of short circuiting in that moment and I guess he thought my odd behavior just wasn't worth his time because then he just goes on, puts his hands down and takes off his shirt-”

“What?!” Ethan yelled. 

“Because we were racing soon and they always would! They would change around the paddock all the time! It’s so normal, they still do it, and I never, ever thought anything of it, like it never phased me. But this one time, when he just lifted his shirt over his head and I was already feeling things I’d never felt before, I was already confused, and oh my god. I don’t know what happened to me.”

Once again the table was booming with laughter. “No, it was so bad. Definitely one of my worst moments. It got to the point where one of the other boys; no names - had to smack me alongside the head and tell me to stop glaring.”

Max’s eyes lit up as he heard the last part. “Wait, people noticed?” “Not people, just the one, I think. If anyone else did, they never said anything.”

“Huh.” Max nodded. “And you don’t feel this way anymore?”

The word came without hesitance, “No,” you shook your head.

Beep.

Max had just found his jackpot moment. He had the information he needed.

What a week it had been. Between the guilt of Austria, the subsequent frantic Mclaren schedule leading up to Silverstone and the stress of the Quadrant video, Lando felt he could truly take his first breath of fresh air knowing at least one of those problems was officially resolved. 

The day was nearing its end meaning you were probably just about done filming with his crew and were likely headed back to the hotel for some well deserved rest before a hectic day of simulation practice and debriefing tomorrow.

He knows he has already done it 1000 times over, but he really needed to thank you for the favor you did him this week. No matter how much you spoke of all free time you had, he knew you were really just as busy with race prep, it wasn’t the simple ‘schedule squeeze’ you had made it out to be and he was more than grateful.

“What time did you say Y/n was coming back?” Charles’ voice rang loud throughout the room as his eyes flickered up from his phone. A few of the drivers had decided to spend a not so usual night in Max's hotel room sharing a few drinks. Camaraderie and all that, especially after the tension of last week.

“She should be finishing up now.”

“Is she coming back here?” Charles continued, still glancing between his phone and Lando’s eyes, fingers tapping briskly over the screen. 

“I’m not sure, I haven’t spoken to her. Why?” Landos eyebrows furrowed down as he asked. 

“Nothing, Alex was asking, that's all. I think she was going to stop by if so but I’ll tell her don’t worry.” To this Lando hummed. As much as he hoped you would stop by - hoped you would have a few drinks with them because you always got a little touchy and so much more bold with your advances when you did (and he’d be completely lying if he said he didn’t love it everytime) - he also knew how exhausting a day of filming was. Further, he knew his friends, and as much as he had scolded them - put them through the ringer about not messing with you, he knew them well enough to know they would do it anyways. You would probably go straight back to the room, and while he understood, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

Distracted with his thoughts of you, he had almost missed the buzzing of his phone on the table besides the couch armrest he had been leaning against, if it hadn’t been for Carlos’ voice breaking the trail his mind was wandering. “Lando compadre, your phone.”

Snapping his eyes to the side, Lando quickly reached out and turned it over to see Max Fewtrell's name splayed across the screen. And being too lazy to pick up the phone and assuming he was just calling to assure him that filming went well, he swiped his finger across the screen and pressed the speaker button to talk.

“Yeah mate, how’d it go?”

“She has feelings for a driver.” 

Woah. No hello, no how are you, not even a build up to the revelation? It felt as if the world had stopped spinning as every single person in the room froze to look back at Lando with wide eyes.

“W-What?” Landos heart felt still in his chest as he spoke.

“We got her to talk about her relationships on the grid-”

“-You dickhead! I told you not to-”

“-I know you told us not to push her, but It wasn’t me!”

“You’re telling me she just admitted that on her own?” Landos voice was laced with sarcasm, a scoff of knowing disbelief leaving his throat. Bullshit.

“No! … Ria did it.”

“Max you muppet, she was doing me a favor! She probably hates me now.” Lando sighed into his hands before peaking through his fingers to glance around. All three boys; Charles, Carlos and Verstappen all had their heads turned towards the phone with wide eyes. 

“Well, that’s the thing,” Max laughed. “Maybe not! She said there was a driver she had a crush on during her formula 2 days, she wouldn’t admit who and when we asked if she still liked them she said no, but the buzzer went off. She was lying, Lando.” The silence in the room seemed deathly thick as the words left Fewtrells mouth, the three other boys blinking at the words they were hearing. They were sure to be experiencing the same emotions Lando himself had been. Shock, confusion, maybe a little intrigue. The boys had been teasing you for years about your relationship status. You had been single for so long, yet constantly surrounded by men so it was inevitable that the conversations would arise; you had to like someone. Nevertheless, you always stood firm, exclaiming that always being around the boys just made it even easier not to. 

After years of the same answers, with absolutely no indication to suggest otherwise, it was hard not to believe the words you spoke. And when you started dating your then boyfriend a few years ago - now ex, thank god for Lando - and bringing him around the paddock; a random guy none of the boys knew very well, the teasing well and truly died down. You really didn’t like anyone on the grid.

But now here they were hearing that the years of teasing, the years of questions, of loud drunken debates and near screaming matches had all been in effort to hide the truth they all suspected. A truth you had been hiding for over 5 years apparently.

The silence must have stuck out to Max Fewtrell beyond the phone, as he seemed to continue talking in the absence of a response. “Here’s what we managed to get out of her. He was an F2 driver that raced with her. She was close to him because he was one of the first people she saw after off season. She had raced with him before, so it wasn’t a new driver. And get this, he was a ‘late bloomer'- was one of the smallest in the comp before he shot up.”

Suddenly it was as if the gears were beginning to turn in Lando’s head, and he couldn’t help but pick up on the obvious smile Fewtrell definitely wore behind the phone. A late bloomer? There weren't many of those by the time they had reached Formula 2, and if there was one thing Lando was, it was a late bloomer. And it seemed everyone else had put the same cogs together, because now all the boys seated around were looking at him with sly smirks and cocked brows. 

God, there was no way. Not a single chance! Lando had spent the past however many years of his life stumbling after this girl, chasing your shadow in hopes for just a single moment of something more between you. That you would glance at him from a distance for as long as he did you, yearn to talk to him as much as he did you, sit up and think about him as often as he did you. He had liked you for as long as he could remember, and while he admits it may have been more akin to puppy love back in his teen years, that innocent crush quickly developed into something so much more intense as he got to be close to you. He wasn’t really afraid to admit he had feelings for you, and while he's never really said it out loud, he also made no attempts to hide it either, and it quickly became obvious to all your mutual friends that he liked you. 

The two youngest single people on the paddock that grew up together, now teammates, who were forced to be around each other everyday but somehow were still never apart, even when it wasn’t required, together anyway. Except one was obviously in love and the other would never like a driver, personal life and professional life were strictly separate.

Beep. Lies. 

Fuck, no, he couldn’t get his hopes up like this. It’s something, but it also doesn't really mean anything.

“Okay but, there were a lot of damn drivers on the f2 grid. There were a few late bloomers, and she was friends with plenty of the other guys that never made it to Formula 1. She- she could be talking about a lot of people.”

“You didn’t think I'd call you with all this doubt, Bob?” Max’s voice was smug and mischievous and Lando couldn’t help but wince at the dumb nickname. “Respect my name. I wouldn’t leave without something to attest. Apparently she was caught staring at the guy by another driver. Another driver knows, or at least they noticed.”

“F2 years you said?” Verstappen's voice rang loud, it almost made Lando jump from the change in bass. 

“That’s what y/n said.”

Verstappen's eyes seem harsh as his brows move down to come over his lids. “Coming back from the off season?”

“...Yeah?” Fewtrell agrees. 

In the blink of an eye Verstappen’s tense face had quickly fallen into a bright and humorous expression, eyes squinting tight as his head fell back in a loud laugh, “Oh my god!” 

“What?” Lando questions.

“Oh my god, Lando, It’s you!”

A chorus of ‘what’s’, and ‘huh’s’ course the room as Max leans over to give Lando an exhilarated slap on the back of the neck. Lando’s eyes are wide as he leans forward in a wince. Though, wether he was wincing at Max’s sudden motion or the revelation he’d just been subjected to, he wasn’t sure. You? Liking him?!

“It was me who noticed!” His laugh boomed as he spoke. “I remember it because I thought it was funny at the time, and for a while after it I thought she might have liked you because it was so unlike her. But she kept denying ever liking anyone and then she showed up with that prick of a boyfriend after that and I just let it go. I always knew it was something!” Max’s voice went raspy as he spoke in a loud, joyful tone, he was no doubt excited at the news. He loved you and wanted to help you wherever he could. And though he would never say it out loud, watching Lando pine over you; the way he cared for you, the way he would defend you when the media had negative things to say; he did think Lando would be a good match for you. 

Now, Lando on the other hand, Lando’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions as he struggled to conceptualize the bomb that had just been dropped over him. He had spent so long pining after you, thinking you saw him as nothing more than just a teammate or worse, just a friend. The idea of you possibly liking him back was a concept he had spent night dreaming of yet never did he think the day would actually come. He was so unconvinced of it ever happening he almost felt unprepared, unsure of what to do or how to act now. Yet, here it was. The room seemed to buzz with a newfound energy, the boys' playful teasing barely registering as he tried to wrap his head around the idea.

"Lando, you okay?" Carlos asked, his voice softer than usual, breaking through Lando's thoughts.

Lando blinked, looking up to see the concerned yet amused faces of his friends. "Yeah, just... processing."

“She likes you mate!” His best friend's words sounded unreal to him. You like him. You like him too. All this time trying to form something with you, not realizing what you already had.

Crashing that goddamn car may have been the best fucking thing that's ever happened to him.

If he’d known this would have been the outcome of DNFing he’d have sent his car straight into the track barrier years ago. Sacrificing pole position if he had to.

He truly thought nothing could have taken him away from this moment, not a single other thing could pull him back from his thoughts of you. Nothing except you. And the sound of his phone beeping with the tone of an incoming call really did pull him back to reality. Because it was you. You were calling!

The boys incessant chatter had immediately come to a halt as Lando shot up. “She’s calling!” His head turning left to right as he frantically looked around at the boys around him. “She’s calling, what do I do?”

Fewtrell’s voice couldn't have come through any clearer. “Answer you knob!”

And so he did. He analyzed the buttons and clicked the one that ended the call with Max and sent it straight over to you instead. 

His heart stuttered as the line went silent, anticipation pulsing through every inch of his veins. The boys sat back in their seats, eagerly eavesdropping on a conversation that could potentially bring a whole new meaning to the word WAG. But Lando didn’t care, more so he didn’t notice, he truthfully had been so sucked in by the letters of your name he forgot the boys were even there. 

What was he even supposed to say? You didn’t know what he knew, maybe he shouldn’t have answered. And yet he found his voice shakily as his teeth clasped his bottom lip.

“Hello?” His breath stuttered as he spoke, and the line sat silent for just a moment too long for Lando’s liking. Y/n? “Lando, you owe me so bad!”

[mayukisu]

CHILDE X FEM!READER

Tags: NSFW, somnophilia, non/dubcon, childhood friends, cunnilingus, raw sex

You would have never suspected Childe of doing such a thing. You had always been close to each other since you were childhood friends, but you never expected that he would go this far.

Of course, as his best friend, you were always by his side. Everyone thought you were dating, and if you weren't, they believed you would sooner or later. Yet you always denied it. That was what stung most— you always denied it and shrugged off the possibility that you two would be dating.

Yet here you were, defenseless under him. Of course, as a deep sleeper, you never would have known that he was on top of you at all. After all, he was extra careful not to wake you up.

Ever since you two grew up, he had noticed the changes in your body and would find it hard to hold back. He always pondered how your thighs would feel beneath his hands, if they were to tremble if he were to touch them, and if you would flinch if he cupped the swell of your breasts. You would never think that he always fantasized about groping your breasts from behind, flicking his fingers so he could play with your nipples. He knew it was shameless of him, especially when he would go hard when you were hanging out together. But you never knew how he felt, and it was frustrating.

You planned to hang out with each other today and unfortunately, you had to cancel because he said he was busy. Little did you know, he came to your place to surprise you because he got home a bit early, but you were in a deep slumber. Your mother told him to just come to your room since you had known each other since you were in diapers. She trusted him as much as she did you.

So here he was, his eyes practically fucking you— your legs were spread wide and he was in between them, your shirt and bra pushed up to reveal your chest to his ravaging eyes. His ocean eyes seemed drunk, thirsty even, that if you were to gaze into them, you wouldn't recognize him at all.

Two of his fingers had been rubbing your slit for a while now, the sound of your slick obvious, and his hand drenched in your juice. He sighed, finding it beautiful. He had locked the door earlier so no one would interrupt you. He was shameless enough to do such indecent things while your mother was downstairs.

This wasn't his intention when he came first. He just wanted to be by your side until you woke up, but he was getting needy and it didn't help that you slept with half your shirt pushed up and wearing only your panties. Of course, he wouldn't know that you touched yourself at the thought of him before you fell asleep from exhaustion.

His other hand carefully cupped your breast, kneading it and feeling his heartbeat race as he felt how tender it was. He let his thumb brush over your nipple, and he immediately stopped when he felt you shiver. He froze, thinking you'd wake up, but you were still asleep which made him smirk and continue.

He then moved away from your position, unzipping his pants and taking them off. He was left in his boxers, rubbing himself gently as he placed his face close to your womanhood. His eyes were filled with excitement as he saw how wet you were. Childe licked your slit slowly, kissing your clit several times which made your legs shiver— no, still fast asleep. He hardened his tongue and focused on your hole, circling around it as his thumb started playing with your clit. When you started cumming, he sucked on your juices as he penetrated your hole using his tongue, thrusting it in and out before he wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

He felt guilt eating him up, but his desire was shamefully greater than his guilt. When he inched closer to you, he knelt in between your spread out legs, and laid on top of you after. He was in between your legs, his other arm fishing under your torso to pull you closer to his hot body. His scars were evident and you had always loved them, though he never knew. He put his face closer to your chest, licking a nipple while he cupped the other breast. He flicked his tongue over the nip and sucked, closing his eyes from the pleasure. Heavens, you were trembling before his touch. You were in a deep sleep, but you were close to waking up.

When he knelt back up, he slipped his length out of his boxers and slid it up and down your folds, shivering as he fought back his desire.

He knew you'd hate him if he slipped it in. He knew your lifelong friendship would be ruined if he fucked you while you were sleeping, but he was panting and he found it hard to hold himself back.

"Just the tip," he whispered to himself, lining his cock in your entrance, circling its head on the hole before he pushed it in slowly. He groaned, your tightness pleasurable, and he couldn't fight back his desire to just slide everything in and fuck you raw.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I'm so sorry,"

But what he didn't realize was that the moment he inserted his shaft in you, you had woken up and relaxed within his arms. When you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, he froze and looked down on you. Your eyes were overflowing with lust and neediness, lips parted as if you were begging to be kissed.

"I'll forgive you if you satisfy me, Ajax."

And heavens, did he fuck you so good.

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

So Blue | Han Jisung

•Synopsis: Who can you turn to in a dire situation if not your best friend? That's what Jisung thought when he texted you. Heart racing with fear that your best friend was hurt, you rush to his side. What you find however will change everything...

•Pairings: non idol Jisung x Female Reader

•Content Includes: smut, friends to lovers, strong language, mention of sexual enhancement drug, light anxiety, creampie, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, cum eating

an: photos of Han used in title graphic have been edited for entertainment purposes by me and are not real. no harm is intended in the edited pictures. also please do not take any enhancement meds without talking to a doctor for your own safety. i don't condone the behavior that's written.

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

The house is quiet, way too quiet when you step inside. Knowing Chan, Changbin, and Jisung for years, you know it's never this quiet when they're around and it's unsettling... Shutting the door behind you and glancing around, you see nothing out of the ordinary. So far everything looks exactly the way you left it last night after the four of you hung out. Just as you're about to walk into the kitchen, you hear Jisung start calling your name from his bedroom. Your heart races with panic and you rush towards his room, dropping your bag on the floor along the way. All kinds of awful scenarios play in your mind and when you burst into his room you half expect to find him bloody or with a broken bone, not sitting on the edge of his bed in a white sleeveless shirt and black shorts, with his legs spread sporting a massive hard-on.

"Wait, why me?" you blurt out, when Jisung explains that he needs your help. Your cheeks heat up as you steal a quick glance at the unmistakable bulge in his shorts. There's a mix of embarrassment and unexpected arousal that floods through you, leaving you flustered.

You're shocked, jaw practically hitting the floor. Who knew he was so… big? After all these years of friendship, you never thought of him in any other way except as your weird and talented friend. But now, seeing him in this state… It's making you feel things you'd rather deny and your stomach is flipping like crazy. Every now and then you notice that his cock twitches underneath his shorts as if it's alive, pulsating and drawing your eyes down to it again despite how hard you try not to stare. Kind of hard when something that size is practically waving “Hello” at you.

"I- I can't tell the guys this. They'd clown me for life," Jisung stammers, fidgeting as he looks at you from across his messy room. Plastic water bottles scattered, tissues crumpled on the floor—yeah, it's pretty clear what he's been up to before you got here.

"Well, what do you expect me to do, Han Jisung?" you retort, emphasizing his full name for dramatic effect.

"I don't know," he mumbles, shrugging his shoulders. "It's been hours. I can't even leave my room. It hurts, y/n."

When he grabs at the stiffness beneath his cotton shorts and lets out a low groan, you stop breathing. Why does this have to turn me on? He's my best friend! You mentally scold yourself, tearing your gaze away. Shit, it's hot in here. Your body feels too hot all over. It's like standing too close to a blazing fire, the heat making you squirm uncomfortably.

"Ji... we need to get you to the hospital," you say, avoiding his gaze. "You've seen those commercials."

"Please, no! I can't let anyone see me. Did you forget, your bestie Annie, who also happens to be Chan's girl, works there. If she sees me, it's game over. She'll tell him." Jisung pleads, hands clasped together, desperation evident in his wide brown eyes. Those puppy dog eyes of his always get to you.

"Dude, what were you even thinking, taking Love?" you groan, plopping down on the cozy carpet with a heavy thud, completely confused by your friend's decision to take an enhancement pill.

You remember seeing those late-night infomercials a couple of years back, pushing that blue heart-shaped pill. They call it 'Love' because of the 'L0-V3' stamped on it. Basically it's like Viagra, but it's mixed with a very low dose of THC. They advertise that it does more than just keep things up. 'Guaranteed to give you the ultimate pleasure,' they say.

Jisung shrugs, watching you with a miserable expression. “I was curious if it would make masturbating feel different, better maybe? I mean it did the first 6 times. Wah! The orgasms were fucking mind blowing y/n.” He smiles and chuckles.

"Ji, oh my god! Ugh, have mercy on my ears bro." Both of you burst into laughter, but then you notice Ji wincing in pain. Your mood quickly shifts from playful to genuine concern.

"It hurts that much?" you ask, feeling awful that he's so uncomfortable.

He nods weakly, “It's not even just my dick but my balls feel so fuckin’ heavy. Like they're literally going to rip from my body.”

You cringe inwardly, fingers pressing into your ears as he launches into yet another one of his oversharing moments. His lack of filter has always been a trademark of his, but that's just Jisung being Jisung. After being friends since grade five, it's like he's incapable of holding back anything with you. You remember the day he lost his virginity, he texted you literally right after. His excitement was evident even through the phone. As a joke you got him a cake in the shape of the letter ‘V’. That was in highschool and his habit of sharing way too much is still going strong in your twenties. Only difference is this time his oversharing is doing things to you.

The dampness between your thighs, well, that's just gotta be a coincidence, right? I mean, it's not like the sight of your long time buddy sporting a hard-on is doing anything for you. It's more than likely just the frustration of being on a three-year dry spell. Yeah, that's gotta be it. It's definitely because you haven't been fucked in a long time and not Jisung himself. You give your head a shake, dropping your hands from your ears with a wry smirk.

"Ji, we've really gotta do something… before it gets worse. You don't want it to fall off." You tell him jokingly, trying to keep the mood light but you're feeling worried all over again.

"Yeah, yeah I know. You're right, but what are we supposed to do? I've tried everything, even beatin' it 11 times, and still no luck.” He says, sounding so casual about his masturbatory activities.

You let out an embarrassed groan and fall back dramatically onto the floor, while Jisung lets out a pitiful whine. You grab your phone and start searching for home remedies but after an hour of scrolling, you're still at square one. Not a single remedy seems feasible. Leeches? Nah, no way. As if either of you would go near those slimy things. And some tea from a self-proclaimed witch sounds sketchy as hell. Plus, she's halfway across the globe. It would take forever to get here, if it even would. Jisung hasn't had any luck either. Every twenty minutes You hear him curse under his breath and run his hands through his hair. You two are running out of options, and as time passes, you start to feel more and more useless.

"Y/n," Jisung whispers your name after another forty minutes of searching, his voice hesitant.

You look up at him, doe eyed and innocently chewing your lip. “Hm? What's up, Hannie? Did you find something?” With a strained grunt he nods in response looking at you intensely.

“Fuck, shit.” He mutters under his breath, almost like he's talking to himself. “My dick... It won't go down without…”

“Ji what is it? You're freaking me out. Without what?” You scramble up onto your knees and crawl over to the bed, inching closer to him, eyes full of concern.

Jisung looks like he's in absolute agony watching you crawl over to him. His emotions are all over the place, you can practically feel the tension radiating off of him when you reach the bed. His eyes are like flames, burning far too hot when he looks at you. You can see the struggle written all over his face like he's fighting with himself.

“Y/n, you're making it harder,” Jisung breathes out, his voice husky and balling his hands into fists as he tries to keep his composure.

You sit beside him scrunching up your face and like the good friend that you are, you place a comforting hand on his knee. Jisung's breath catches in his throat and a flush creeps up his neck when you touch him making him suddenly feel lightheaded.

"What do you mean 'making it harder'? I'm here trying to help you, remember?” You say, your voice soft and tinged with hurt. The pain in your voice and eyes catches him off guard. He's stammering, suddenly aware of how his words might've come out wrong.

He didn't mean for it to sound bad. You're the last person he'd ever want to hurt. But today, everything you do just seems to set him off. He's been trying so damn hard to push his feelings aside. But it's like having you in his room, despite you being here a million times before, it's messing with his head. He can't think straight. You've always been stunning to him, and yeah, maybe he's entertained some inappropriate thoughts about you in the past, but that was only once. Maybe it's the pill messing with his head but you’re making it impossible for him to focus on anything but you.

“N- no I mean, I’m grateful you're here, really love. You're the only one who can help me. I just mean… you're making it harder. Ya know?” He stammers, licking his lips nervously. He nods down once looking down at his lap before back at you and bites his lip feeling embarrassed. Your eyes flick down to his shorts and go wide when you understand.

"What? How?!" You glance down at your outfit. His black hoodie with the paint splatters that you borrowed a few days ago, paired with simple black leggings. Nothing revealing, yet you're somehow making his cock even harder than it already was.

"You're over there moaning and then you start crawling towards me on all fours. I mean, come on, how could anyone not get turned on by that? Shit!" He chuckles nervously, feeling his heart racing. He hides his face in his hands, laughing, and murmurs something when you giggle.

"You're such a perv, Ji." You tease, still chuckling as you playfully pry his hands away from his face. "Now try that again. I'm not fluent in mumbles, sorry.”

“I said… I just read that it won't go down without intercourse. Bro, I don't exactly have a girlfriend. I'm so fucked.” He sighs, sounding completely defeated.

Your smile falters when you see just how miserable he looks. It's been a while since he was last in a relationship, that was true. Probably a little longer than you, about four years now. His last one ended when she demanded he choose between you and her. She couldn't stand the fact that you would spend the night in the spare bedroom where Jisung, Chan, and Changbin recorded their music, dreaming of making it big someday. Jisung ended things with her on the spot; he wouldn't be with someone who couldn't accept his friends. Apparently she had issues with Minho too, which was probably what really did it for him. But somehow, you can't shake off the feeling that their breakup was somehow your fault, that his single status is on your shoulders.

“I'm sorry Hannie. We'll um, we can figure something out.” You reassure him, innocently rubbing his knee.

Without thinking much, your fingers gently glide over his skin comfortingly, feeling the tenseness in his muscles. He's so stressed. It breaks your heart seeing him like this. You don't know what to do right now other than offer him comfort. There are no answers or solutions that you can think of to give him. All you can do is show him that you're in it together as always. You start rambling on about how you two are both probably freaking out for no reason and that everything will be fine soon. But as your fingers continue to move in innocent slow circles, Jisung starts shifting. It goes unnoticeable by you so you keep talking. It's all nonsense really, delving into something completely random and off topic in an attempt to distract him from the issue at hand, only Jisung isn't processing a single word you've said. He's far too focused on your hand.

The moment your hand landed on his knee he prayed you wouldn't move it, he prayed you would. He tried so hard to focus on anything other than the heat and softness of your hand on his bare skin. It's too much though and his mind starts to quickly wander. He freezes and tries to focus on your voice but it's impossible. Jisung can't stop the thoughts that his mind creates or the images that begin to come into focus. He's imagining your hand sliding up his thigh until it's slipping under his shorts. He can almost feel it happening, his sudden daydream becoming so vivid. In his mind's eye he can see you take him into your hands, feel you stroking him until he's a mess and spilling all over your fingers. He's fighting his demons and you're oblivious to it all. You just continue to talk all while the sensation of your hand is driving him up the wall. He can feel the sudden familiar tightening in his balls and he panics. He can't get control of his body, not with the drug still in his system.

His hand quickly comes down covering yours, stopping the gentle caress to his knee. His intense brown eyes look darker when they stare into yours. His lips slightly part and his breath starts coming out in uneven quiet bursts. The warmth of his hand seems to grow hotter, becoming slightly sweaty against yours and your heart starts pounding in your chest. You feel the subtle shift in his body beneath your touch and his legs tense up as he lets out a soft, involuntary grunt. Jisung's gaze burns into yours with an undeniable intensity that makes air feel thick and your cunt slick.

Is he about to?

You glance down at his shorts and his cock pulsates underneath. You stop breathing when realization hits you. He’s going to cum, right here, right now, all while holding your hand and looking at you. He's leaking so much precum it's noticeable even in the black fabric. A wicked scene flashes through your mind, of you sinking to your knees to taste him, taking his fully clothed cock into your mouth.

"Ah, shit! Mm!" Jisung's moans slip out and his breathing escalates as he starts to tremble all over. "Y/n," he pants out. Your name rolling off his tongue, making your whole body flush as his orgasm quickly builds, like you're the cause of it. "I... oh, shit. I'm... sorry, fuck. I can't... Help it. I'm cumming. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck!”

His grip on your hand tightens and he takes a deep breath before letting out a long low moan. You're left speechless, eyes fixed on Jisung's face as he cums in his pants. His hips move instinctively upwards, as if he's fucking some unseen entity and you can't help but find it incredibly hot. It's possibly the sexiest thing you've ever witnessed and now you're more turned on than you were to before.

His orgasm hits him hard, and you can feel his muscles tighten when he lets go. Warmth spreads through your body and it's impossible not to miss the way his release seeps through his dark shorts. The fabric quickly becomes wetter as his seed flows out in thick, white strings. His cock, still concealed and hard beneath the dampness, slows its wild twitching and stills.

“God, I'm sorry y/n. I don't know what came over me. Your hand... It felt incredible and it just happened. It was like the pill ramped up the feeling.” He apologizes, letting go of your hand. His heavy breathing slows and cheeks flush with a mixture of arousal and shame.

“It's ok Ji, I understand. You don't have to apologize. I wasn't thinking. I'll uh, get you a change of shorts.” You start to get up and head towards his dresser but he catches your wrist. He looks up at you with those brown sugar boba eyes of his making you shift.

“Tell me what you're thinking, y/n. Please? I'm going crazy thinking I'm weirding you out. Be honest with me please, lovely. Please?” He pleads with you.

You sigh and sit back down beside him and almost moan when the seam of your leggings rub against you. Seeing Jisung cum right in front of you, has your body feeling ultra sensitive. You're so on edge as if you've taken an enhancement pill yourself.

"I'm not weirded out, trust me," You confess, your voice low and filled with something more that you try to hide from him and yourself.

"Then how do you feel? You've gone quiet on me." Jisung probes, daring you to reveal your feelings.

“I feel fine Ji.” You say and look at his closet door. It's wide open and his clothes are all over the place inside like a tornado went through it.

“Bullshit y/n. I can tell when you're lying. You never look at me when you lie.”

Sighing you look him in the eyes and your mouth suddenly goes dry. He's not going to let this go until you fess up to him. He'll drill you with questions until you crack and that will probably make things more awkward than it already is. You don't really have a choice but to be transparent with him like you normally are.

“I'm,” You start, only for your words to trail off into a mumble.

“What was it you said earlier y/n? I'm not fluent in mumble?" He smirks, feeling so damn proud of himself and you roll your eyes.

“Ugh, fine. Fine, okay. I'm… horny. There, satisfied?” You admit red in the face. You look away fiddling with the sleeve of Jisung's hoodie.

"What else?" His voice, steady and resolute.

Your head spins back to him, caught off guard. "What else?" you echo loudly in shock. "Isn't all that enough?" He shakes his head, a smirk playing on his lips, as if he knows something you don't.

"Nah, not when I can feel you holding back," Jisung teases, leaning closer. "We're always so open with each other, but right now, there's something you're not saying."

“I…” You let out a defeated and frustrated sigh. “You turned me on.” You whisper. “The sight of you cumming. The look on your face, that fucking moan, Jisung. The way your cock bobbed from inside your shorts when you… damn it. It fucking made me wet. I've been wet since I walked in here!” You're practically yelling now, breathing heavily after releasing all your pent up feelings and he just smiles and chuckles.

“That wasn't so hard was it?

“Yes,” You say with a huff. “Yes, that actually was pretty damn hard.” You go to cover your face but he stops you.

“Don't be embarrassed, sweetie. I think that's a normal reaction. Sorta like watching porn.” He replies, chuckling.

“I suppose… but it doesn't really help your situation though.” You say feeling mortified.

The room goes quiet for a minute, the pair of you at a loss for words until Jisung breaks the silence.

“Maybe it can?”

You give him a look, raising an eyebrow in his direction. His cheeks flush and he raises his hands in a surrender gesture, palms facing outward, “Hear me out. It doesn't have to be weird. We'd just be helping each other out. You wouldn't be horny anymore and I wouldn't be hard and in pain. You're my only hope.”

“Are you suggesting that you and I… fuck?” You ask gesturing between you both. He groans in half pain, half pleasure at your words and your face heats again matching the blush on his cheeks.

“Please? Please let me fuck you y/n. Shit I know we're friends, it won't mean anything. You'd be literally saving my life. It's torture being like this. Every twitch, every movement I make… it fucking hurts like hell.” He begs, sounding desperate.

Jisung's question hangs in the air and you find yourself unable to respond. Silence ticks on for only a few seconds but to Jisung it feels like an hour. He runs his hands through his hair in frustration and huffs.

"Fine, then," he grumbles, breaking the silence again. "Can you at least help me get into your car so we can go to the hospital then?" His voice is rough, but there's an underlying vulnerability to it.

Still you stay quiet, his pleas echoing loudly in your mind. He's begging for your help and you can't speak. You're torn between wanting to be there for him and the fear of the aftermath. It's never a good idea to sleep with a friend. God, how many times have there been movies portraying that, only for it to go wrong? Too many, that's the answer. You're already feeling things that you wish you weren't. This could ruin your friendship with Jisung. This isn't just a peck on the lips. You'll be far closer and far more intimate than you two have ever been. So your hesitation is valid but Jisung is losing his mind and panicking more than you are right now.

“What the fuck y/n? Are you really ignoring me right now? Look, I'm sorry I asked. Just forget it and hel-”

"Promise me," You cut him off, "Promise me that we'll pretend like it never happened."

"Absolutely, yes. I promise!" he agrees eagerly, his face lighting up as he reaches for the drawer in his bedside dresser.

Curious, you watch as he rummages through the drawer's content. "What are you up to now?" you ask, sounding amused despite the fact that the little voice in your head is screaming at you.

"Looking for a condom," he replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes when he looks over at you.

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Dude, even if you find one, it's probably expired or dried up. When was the last time you got some ass?"

"Oh yeah right, good point—wait! It hasn't been that long!" He whines.

Laughing, you playfully cover your mouth. "Uh huh, sure. Besides, you gave your last one to Chan a while ago, remember?"

“Shit, you're right. Now what?” He pouts looking disappointed.

“Just raw I guess. Don't really have a choice. We both know we're clean and I'm on the pill.” You shrug nonchalantly like the idea is whatever to you but your heart is beating a thousand beats per second and you're internally freaking out.

Jisung swallows hard, looking nervous in your direction. “You uh, you sure?”

“Yeah let's just do it before Bin and Chan get back. Shit would be really awkward if they caught us.” Your voice betrays your false confidence, shaking as nerves wrack your body.

“Yeah, good point” He replies with a nod, suddenly looking serious.

This is serious to him. This isn't exactly how he envisioned his weekend starting. Jisung's heart pounds hard, his palms sweating as he stares at you. Amidst the anxiety he's feeling about this, he's oddly happy. He feels lucky knowing you’re here willing to cross boundaries for him. Not everyone would do something like this for a friend, but you're different. You always have his back no matter what crazy mess Jisung finds himself in.

Despite the fucked-upness of it all, Jisung can't deny the excited flutter in his stomach. The thought of having sex with a friend is enough to give anyone major anxiety but he's surprised how well you both are dealing with it. Still, fear sits at the back of his mind. What if this changes everything? What if it ruins your friendship? This is a big deal. He's seen it play out in movies and dramas all the time and not once had it turned out well. He doesn't have a lot of options though. You're quite literally his only hope like he told you.

Jisung gets up carefully, giving you full access to his bed and watches you as you strip down to nothing. Embarrassment fills you as his mouth hangs open, in complete fascination and awe. He thinks you're unstoppable, the way you're confidently undressing like that. He doesn't know you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. His eyes find your breast and he mentally marvels over how hard your nipples are. He suddenly wants nothing more than to slip the peaks into his mouth and bite down on them until they're red and you're squirming under him. Your cunt calls to him like a siren, just as pretty and just as wet. His fingers itch to trace the contours of your body, to feel your skin beneath his touch. Every inch of you seems to call out to him.

Jisung shifts uncomfortably, clearing his throat as he glances towards the door. "Um, so about the lights... Do you have a preference?”

"You decide, Ji.” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, leaning back into his sheets on your forearms.

With a nod, he walks over to the door and locks it before reaching to switch off the light, enveloping the room in darkness. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. The sun had long since disappeared, hours slipping away unnoticed in trying to find a way to help your friend. A second later, the white walls covered in music memorabilia and anime posters, glow crimson from the light of the LED Akatsuki cloud lamp you gifted him for Christmas.

“There we go.” He says lightly, his voice barely audible over the sound of your heart.

Jisung's trying his best to put you at ease, and you're grateful for it, even if it's not working. You're lying there, heart pounding like a drum, with the soft red glow of his bedroom casting shadows all around. Your breath hitches, nerves tingling as you steal a glance at him by the bedside. Your fingers toy with the sheets' edge and butterflies dance wildly in your stomach. This is risky, but you're only doing it to help him out, right? Nothing more. Yet, there's something brewing beneath the surface, something you're both feeling but haven't quite put into words or even thoughts. Not right now at least.

Jisung casually strips off his tank and tosses it onto his computer chair, standing over you. Even though you've seen him shirtless a million times, it feels different this time. Probably because the setting is more intimate. You can't help but admire the way his muscles are defined, how they seem to mold perfectly to his body. Every contour, every line, down to his slender waist, captivates you. Then, as he lowers his shorts, you find yourself holding your breath, unable to look away. He's got to be a good seven inches you think. Slightly curving upwards, angry and red with the veins ridiculously prominent. You don't even stop yourself from fantasizing about how he'd feel on your tongue. The temptation to reach out and touch him is almost overwhelming, but you hold back, afraid of what it might mean.

“Do you think you can take all of me y/n?” He asks curiously and you look up at him.

His features soften in the dim light. He looks so vulnerable, so unlike the confident guy you're used to seeing. It tugs at your heart, stirring up a mix of emotions you can't quite begin to untangle.

His question, It's not a cocky one. In fact he sounds a little bit self conscious, worried even. Like he's afraid of hurting you or causing you discomfort. As much as you try to not think of him as your best friend right now as a means of psyching yourself out, you can't. He's your sweet Hannie, he's the talented genius J.One, a rap name he created when he was 16. He's your Sungie, who sat with you when you were the new kid in middle school. He needs you… needs your help. What kind of friend would turn away from a friend in need?

"I can handle it, don't worry about me, Ji. Let's just get you back to normal, okay?" You reach out your hand towards him with a subtle tremble exposing your nervousness.

"Yeah, okay, lovely. Just... let me know if you want to stop, okay? Promise?” Jisung exhales, his breath jittery with nerves waiting for your response.

“I promise. Now just relax and fuck me.” You whisper.

“Fuck. Yeah, okay.”

He moves closer to you, placing his hand in yours, and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot through you. The worries and hesitations you had vanish, replaced by a strong need to take care of this for him, to ease his pain. You feel the heat emanating from his body as he positions himself between your legs, gazing down at you with wide eyes.

He chews on his bottom lip and wraps his hand around the base of his cock with a hiss. He's still sensitive from the pain and his recent orgasm but he lines himself up with the entrance to your core, noticing how your arousal glistens in the red lights.

“Do you normally get this wet y/n?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious tilting his head to one side.

You hide your face with your hands, inhaling deeply. It's like you're a virgin all over again and this is your first time. You're nervous out of your mind and he's asking you a question like that. He's just curious, sure, but... he's Jisung... Your pulse pounds in your ears, and you slowly lower your hands. His eyes meet yours, and you can see everything you're feeling reflected in them.

You swallow hard, “Honestly, no. I've never been this wet, Jisung. Not even for myself.” You tell him, keeping eye contact so he knows you aren't lying.

“Fuck, that's hot.” He whispers. His cock twitches and rubs along your folds. “Ah, shit.” He winces and moans at the contact, feeling his cock stiffen even more beyond his belief.

Your body jerks at the unexpected touch, causing you to inhale sharply. His fingers lightly graze the curve of your waist, as if he's afraid you might vanish at any moment. His eyes, intense and penetrating, hold yours captive and heat pools low in your belly. Jisung's touch sends a shiver all over your body when his fingertips slowly begin tracing delicate patterns on your skin. Suddenly it's hard to deny just how bad you want him.

“Han Jisung if you don't stop stalling and just fuck me, I'm getting dressed and calling Chan.” Your breath comes out in short, shallow gasps. That brush against you was too much and not enough. You want him. God, you want him so bad it's almost painful.

“Okay, okay sorry. I'm just nervous. Fuck, I feel like a virgin all over again.” He says voicing your earlier thoughts out loud, making you both laugh loudly.

It feels almost normal. Like you're not about to let sleep with your long time friend. Like he's just above you now because you were wrestling for the remote. But after the laughter subsides, Jisung gathers up his courage and pushes the tip of his cock inside you without any restrictions. You're so wet that he slides right in. You both let out a moan, the sound echoing off the walls of his room, enveloping you in an intimate bubble. In the dim light, the boundary between friendship and something more blurs, and you find yourself swept away by the growing need. Jisung can feel his heart beating harder in his chest as he loses himself to the sweet feeling of you around the tip of him. A growing need intensifies within him with every passing second. He's got just the head in and he wants to slam into and cum right now.

"More. Keep going," you whisper, your voice quiet and dripping with lust. He bites down hard and complies slightly hesitating. Slowly he pushes further inside of you.

Your fingers tremble as they brush against his arms as he steadily inch by inch presses forward getting deeper, drawing moans out of you that could be heard from Pluto. It takes all of Jisung's focus to slide his entire length into you. He didn't want to cum just from sticking the tip in. But with each thrust into your eager pussy, brings him closer to bursting inside you.

"Fuck.” He breathes out as he fully sinks into you, his hand laying over your stomach gently. With a soft sigh, he leans in, resting his other hand beside your head. You feel incredible and he's reminded of the only moment he fantasized about you. A distant memory flooding back, something he tried to push away ages ago.

You tagged along with him, Chan, and Binnie for a vacation to the beach one scorching summer. He couldn't help but notice the way you looked in that red bikini with the guitar pick pattern. The way it barely covered your tits and ass. The sight made him feel insane. He was thinking things about you that he hadn't ever before. He used the fact that he couldn't swim just to sit in the sand, secretly enjoying the sight of you splashing around in the water. Every splash, every droplet clinging to your skin, it was like a fantasy playing out before his eyes. He imagined plowing into you from behind in the shower, your breast pressed against the shower tiles as you took all of him. Every detail was vivid and intense in his mind. That night, while you peacefully slept beside him in the hotel room you shared, he couldn't shake the images from his mind. Unable to sleep due to the ache in his cock, he pumped himself into his fist while thoughts of you consumed his mind. Guilt filled him but he pushed it aside, chalking it up to normal hormonal desires. It had been years since he even had those thoughts, until now.

Now he's buried deep inside you, all because of a dumb decision to try those enhancement pills. All because he wanted a mind-blowing, toe curling, orgasm. But deep down, he's kinda grateful for messing up. With you beneath him, he can fuck you instead of his hand. It's been too long since he's fucked anyone. He wants to savor this moment, take his time feeling your walls flutter around him since this won't happen again. As the urge to cum fades, he eases out of you, leaving just the head of his cock inside and begins moving again, slowly, teasingly, watching your reaction with his mouth slightly agape. Slowly, he rocks in and out, feeling your tightness gripping him in a way he's never experienced before. It’s better than anything he's felt with his exes. He's in awe of how amazing you make him feel. With a forceful thrust, he drives himself deeper into you, pausing when you cry out in pleasure.

"Damn it, y/n, you feel amazing. Fuck, so good.” he murmured, his voice a low, husky whisper. “Can I... Can I go faster? Please, tell me I can fuck you faster, baby. Let me make you feel even better." He begs, grunting softly and shifting his hips in a slow, teasing rhythm, forcing a needy whimper from you.

You bite your lip, a rush of pleasure flooding your body as you nod in response, too overwhelmed to speak. Your breath hitches, coming in rapid gasps, and your legs tremble around him.

“Thank you, fuck.” He withdraws with a sharp pull, then eases back in hard, making you cry out. “Stop me if I'm too rough, baby. You gotta tell me sweetie. Can you do that?”

You nod, but that's not quite what he wants. Jisung wants to hear you, no, needs to hear you. His hand moves, brushing against your skin until he finds your nipple, teasingly taking it between his fingers. Your breath catches as he pinches it gently and rolls it slowly between his thumb and index finger. He feels your body react, your walls tightening around him when you whimper softly.

"Oh!" You gasp, unable to control that blissful feeling of pleasure that runs through you. He does it again, a little harder this time. The corner of his mouth lifts into a cocky grin when you arch your back.

“Yes Ji! Fuck, I'll tell you.” Your eyes close and you grip the blankets on the bed in tight hands.

“Thank you y/n. God you're the fucking, mm! You're the best. Knew only you could help me. I knew you'd take care of me.” Jisung whispers, gripping the sheets by your head tight, his fingers curling around the fabric and sliding himself back into you. The bed creaks beneath you, echoing his movements as he fucks you harder. “Knew you'd make me feel good,” He murmurs, his voice thick with sex. "Tell me, y/n, does that feel good? Does my y/n feel good because of me? Tell me baby.”

Does he always talk like this with everyone he's been with before? You wonder and you realize he's way more experienced than you imagined. The thought makes you jealous but the feeling doesn't last. Each push of his cock inside of you pushes that green eyed demon out of your mind.

His voice, smooth like honey, drips with sweetness, coating you with each word he utters. The way he speaks to you only makes you wetter and you're craving him more. He's not holding back anymore, lost in the moment where all that matters is pleasure. Yours, his… you both need more. He's not waiting for a response; he knows you're speechless, your words stuck in your throat, your silence speaking volumes. With one hand supporting himself, he cups your breast, teasing and massaging the flesh, making you squirm under him before taking your nipple into his mouth. A low, guttural moan escapes him, reverberating through you body. You moan passionately, feeling the heat of his tongue against your skin. When he gently bites the hard peaks of your nipple your body arches into him and your left hand cradles his head.

Jisung inhales deeply, and your scent envelops him, drawing him in with its intoxicating allure. "Damn, you smell so good," Jisung murmurs, a soft smile playing on his lips and his heart literally skips a beat in his chest.

He swore nothing would change, but his heart rebels against that weak promise. Every day, he'll crave you more. Every glance, every touch will only intensify the want for you. The need to have you will only grow stronger. Your hands are all over him now, leaving invisible imprints that seem to penetrate straight to his heart. He finds himself addicted to your nails grazing his skin, the way your fingers weave through his hair, pulling him in closer to you with each tug.

Feeling his body pressing against yours, every movement sends waves of pleasure through you. Your hips respond to him, moving in sync and the sensation of his cock against your sweet spot makes you gasp softly. With each grind, the warmth grows blazing inside you. Jisung pauses, his lips leaving your nipple, and gazes down at you, his tousled hair framing his face in a way that makes him look irresistible in this moment. There's a silent shift between you that makes it harder to breathe.

"Close, aren't you, y/n?" he pants, a teasing grin playing on his lips. Something inside you explodes and a surge of electricity courses through you. It's not just the impending climax that has your insides uncoiling; but from that look he gives you. It's overwhelming in the best way possible. You feel like you're free falling through the clouds.

"Almost, Ji. So close," You breathe out softly.

"Yeah, baby, me too," He murmurs, his words laced with urgency. “I need you to come first. I'm gonna pull out." You shake your head and cling to him tighter, not wanting him to stop.

"Cum inside me, Sungie. Just keep going. Harder, Ji. Right there. Fuck!" Your voice grows louder with each word.

"Are you sure, y/n?" he asks, and when you nod, he grins at you. "Gonna give you all of me, baby. Fill you up real good. Gonna make a mess." He trails off with a soft curse. "Fuck, you're so beautiful," he adds, his voice becoming more raw, his desire evident in every breath. "You feel so good, y/n. So fucking good."

Jisung's hips buck wildly, thrusting faster and you scream his name, pleading with him to not stop, to not hold back, to fill you up. He's trembling, his breath coming out in ragged grunts as he pounds his cock into you, driving deeper with every thrust. Your body tenses up, and you manage to gasp out that you're about to cum just before it hits you like a tidal wave. And when it hits, fuck, it's like fireworks go off behind your eyelids. The most explosive sensation you've ever experienced.

“Gah, y/n! keep cumming, just like that. Y/n, you're gonna make me cum. So tight. Yeah, keep squeezing me with your pussy. I'm gonna cum. Oh, fuck, oh fuck, I'm cumming baby." He moans, his voice strained with pleasure.

You feel it deep when Jisung cums. It jets out in spurts forcefully, filling you and the sensation rips another unexpected orgasm from you. His thrusts slows to a gentle pace, guiding you through the aftershocks of your orgasm until your muscles relax around him. With a shudder, he finally stills, collapsing onto you panting, his weight supported by his forearms. Cupping your face in his hand, he looks down at you with a mix of satisfaction and longing in his eyes that makes you feel indescribable.

Your soft moans and the way you're clinging on to him, gives him a different sort of pleasure. Just knowing he's the one making you feel good, is a heady feeling, one that makes him want to hold onto this moment longer. But it's done and over now and he feels disappointed that such an amazing feeling, like being nestled inside of you, won't happen again.

Jisung's heart is pounding in his chest as he moves his face closer to you. His impulses taking over, "Can I kiss you?" he breathes out, voice shaky looking down at you.

You give a hesitant nod, feeling suddenly shy despite what just happened between you two, and he leans in to press his lips against yours. It's gentle, soft, sweeter than you expected. He doesn't use his tongue, unsure if you'd even want him to but he couldn't resist the urge to kiss you. The way you looked up at him, so pretty with those heavy lids and his cum dripping out of you… he just had to taste your lips, just once.

When he goes to pull away, you grab onto him, pulling him back and deepening the kiss. Your lips part, inviting him to explore you with his tongue, which he eagerly does. Your muscles tighten, and you realize his cock, which had been softening earlier, is now growing harder inside you. You gasp, intending to let him know it worked but before you can, he starts moving again and your gasp turns into moaning. There's no need for you two to keep having sex now that his erection can go away but you don't stop him. This time it's not just about relieving his pain or a means to an end, it's about something more. You both feel it, the change that he promised wouldn't happen, only you don't seem to care. No, you encourage Jisung to keep moving, to go deeper. You part your legs for him even more, letting him have all of you and surrender to the feelings pulsing through your body. It's all so new, these intense emotions you've developed for him.

Jisung's movements are slow and deliberate, each thrust unhurried. His cock slips out leisurely only to ease back in, a rhythm that makes you ache for more. More speed, more friction, more everything. You want to beg him to move faster, but the intensity of his stare leaves you feeling tongue-tied. In this moment, you're the epitome of beauty to him. Your unfocused gaze, your neediness, it's all so intoxicating, urging Jisung to continue his languid movements. He watches as your eyes struggle to focus, blinking several times before locking onto him once more and he loves it. It's as if each blink only deepens the desire he has for you.

He’s amazed that you're letting him continue to fuck you, even though there's no real reason to keep going. But damn, your body has him hooked already. You're spoiling him for any other girl he might end up with, unless... No, he won't let himself go there. He can't think of you as his, not after the promise he made. Still, he craves more of you in every possible way. Jisung's body trembles as he enters you, feeling your muscles tighten around him, and it brings a grin to his face knowing he can coax another orgasm out of you. He wonders how many can say they were able to make you cum multiple times. Did they take care of you like him? He thinks cockily. With a grunt that mingles with your soft moans, he thrusts harder, pushing deeper into you, feeling the tightness around his cock. It's a rhythm of in and out, urging his cock deeper, with nowhere to go.

Did any of your past hookups take their time like this? Fucking you nice and slow, or were they all just in it for a quick nut? Not Jisung, though. He could never, would never just fuck you for his own satisfaction. Your pleasure matters to him. It's what does it for him. He gets off on seeing you lose control because of him, on making you feel good. He doesn't even need to be buried deep inside your cunt to cum. He'd cum in his pants again fingering you or while you rode his face. Just the thought of you cumming on his face is enough to make him explode right now. The sounds you make, your touch, they're his undoing. That's why he came so hard earlier when all you did was caress his knee. He knows that now.

He's finding it impossible to hold back anymore, despite wanting you to cum first. He can't though, not when you gently place your hand on his cheek. That simple touch pushes him over the edge, and he pours himself into you with a raw moan, unable to control himself any longer. His legs shake, his toes curl, and he experiences an intense orgasm, far beyond what he had hoped the pill would give him. But it's not the pill—it's you. He knows it's you.

Watching Jisung cum inside you for the second time, you feel yourself reaching your own orgasm. With soft gasps, your cunt shudders around him. The look on Jisung's face when he cums is easily becoming addicting to you now. You could probably cum just by that look alone. It's like he's lost in the moment, completely taken over by pleasure. His face scrunches up, brows knitting together, round cheeks puffing out with each deep exhale.

You both lie there catching your breaths, quiet and completely still. His cock's still buried inside you, keeping you close. Your eyes lock, taking in every little detail of each other's faces while you both catch your breath. He could stay like this forever, your pussy snug around his cock, and he would've. Only if the sudden sound of the front door swinging open and Changbin shouting about pizza didn't burst that private bubble. It startles you both. So much so that Jisung jerks out of you with a loud pop and scrambling to his feet, making you squeal in surprise.

"Shit, do you think they heard that, Ji?" you whisper hastily pulling his sheets over your body. He shoots you a glance from across the room, a grin spreading across his face. He loves that post sex afterglow radiating from you. You've never looked hotter than you do right now, all sprawled out and naked in his bed.

“Nah, I think we're okay for now. They might just think we're taking a nap like we usually do after binge watching something.” He tells you. “We should probably get dressed in case though.” You nod and when you go to get out of the bed, he stops you. “Wait, lay back. It's my mess, let me clean it up. It's the least I can do for you.”

"Alright..." you murmur, settling back onto the bed with the blanket draped over your chest, your legs parting invitingly for Jisung. Your eyes drift to the ceiling, as you await his touch, but he hesitates. "Ji, what's—"

Your words catch in your throat as you feel the brush of his hair against your thighs and his mouth on you. "Oh, God, Ji. Fuck, that's not what I had in mind," You gasp out just as he flicks his tongue over your clit.

He glances up at you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, his lips glistening with a mixture of your shared juices. "Do you want me to stop, baby? I've got the towel right here," he offers, his tone teasing.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, pleasure pooling low in your belly. "No, don't stop," you urge softly, your voice laced with need. "Keep going. Please.”

You collapse onto the bed, feeling his head sink between your thighs. His lips and teeth graze your inner thigh, and you bite the sheets that are tightly balled up in your hands, trying to stifle any noises that might alert Chan and Changbin. When Jisung plunges his hot tongue inside of you, eating his cum and yours from your cunt like it's a five star gourmet meal, you almost let out the most pornographic sounding moan from the twirling motion of his tongue. You grab a pillow with quick hands covering your mouth so that it muffles your moans and cries.

He makes quick work in giving you another orgasm with that wicked tongue of his. You would've gladly returned the favor too if he didn't already cum in the towel that was supposed to be used for you. His mouth stayed locked on your clit while he moaned and pumped his cock into the towel. The vibration of his lips making you forget all about that thing you keep stashed in your bedside drawer at home. Yeah, Jisung eating your pussy like he was starving definitely didn't need to happen either but you're not complaining.

After getting dressed and making sure Chan and Changbin wouldn't notice anything odd, you and Jisung joined the duo and settled in for pizza, beer, and a movie. The TV casts a soft glow as some suspenseful action movie plays, but your mind is elsewhere, lost in a different kind of fantasy world. It's like your minds are synced, both drifting away from the movie. You and Jisung steal glances at each other in the dark living room, only to quickly look away.

Countless times he's caught you looking back in the direction of his room with a blush on your cheeks. He's hard just knowing that you're thinking about what happened and he wonders if you can still feel him like he can feel you. He just wants to say fuck the movie, to grab you by your wrist and drag you back to his room and fuck you again. He was actually worried that you would go through with the promise of pretending like sleeping together didn't happen but sometimes, in this case anyway, promises can be broken.

[violetbutterflix]

Kinktober Masterlist here!

4.Detective/ADA Chuuya:

Warnings: fuck or die, spanking, degradation, and fem!reader

Chuuya’s impatience grows with every ticking second; the thick, quiet tension in the interrogation room makes it harder for him to stay focused. He slams his hands on the table in frustration, his blue eyes glaring at you. “Will you finally fucking speak up?” He shoves the documents in front of your face, pointing to them as he accuses your organization of being behind all the criminal activities.

Despite the clear evidence, you shrug it off, denying all accusations and not speaking a single word. You have to watch your words carefully now that you're in enemy territory—the Armed Detective Agency. Anything you say could jeopardize your organization. You know that once this is over, you’ll be scolded by your partner and likely your boss too. It’s not like you wanted to get caught; you could have easily gotten away, but the detective in front of you managed to stop that. Sure, you could’ve put up a fight to increase your chances of escape, but damn, he looks too hot to say no to. So here you are, sitting across from him, with only the hard wooden table separating the two of you. You stare into his eyes, resting your chin on your hand as your forearm rests on the table, smiling as you admire his appearance. Honestly, you’ve told him everything—if you weren’t risking your job and the good money (and it’s tough in this economy with the high inflation rate), you’d ask him on a date later.

Chuuya hisses at your nonchalant response; he doesn’t understand it. He has dealt with a lot of criminals in this same interrogation room over the years, but he has never met someone like you. He can’t seem to understand you—not in this moment—with that smile curving on your lips as if you're challenging him. Could this be part of your evil plan to distract him, tricking him into falling for it easily?

“Spill it out: it was your doing, wasn’t it?”

"I'm hurt, detective." You place a hand on your chest, giving him a fake sad smile. "Do you really think I did that?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair with an annoyed expression. Chuuya could’ve saved so much time if it weren’t for you. Originally, it was supposed to be his mission partner—Dazai—interrogating you, but Chuuya stole his spot. Chuuya couldn’t stand that idiot being too close to you. You’ve been his target since day one, ever since he laid eyes on your file in the meeting with his boss. Not Dazai’s, not anyone else’s in the agency—just his; you are his.

"Blackmail, robbery, identity theft, kidnapping, arson, and murder." His eyes narrow as he lists your crimes. "The real question should be: is there anything you haven’t done?"

Damn, Chuuya really did his research on you. You cough, "But detective, I have nothing to do with this case." You can’t deny he’s on the right track, but this time, it’s not your doing. You didn’t even get a chance to act—he appeared out of nowhere and dragged you off just as your day was starting (though you went along willingly). You managed to call for backup without him noticing. Now, you’re just playing with him to kill time while waiting for your partner to rescue you. You know the ADA has had their eyes on your small organization for a while, and everyone’s been bracing for the worst-case scenario: getting caught. How unlucky that you had to be the first. (At least the situation is a little more enjoyable with such a handsome detective.)

“You’re saying that you’re innocent?”

“Yes I am-”

Suddenly, a loud warning siren blares through the room at maximum volume, so deafening that your ears can barely handle it. A strong, sharp aroma fills the air, stinging your senses.

"THIS IS AN EMERGENCY! I repeat, THIS IS AN EMERGENCY. We are under attack. The area is being surrounded by an unknown ability. We are working to identify the ability user responsible for this. In the meantime, please remain calm and find somewhere safe-”

The signal cuts off abruptly, leaving the room in dead silence. Chuuya glances up at the speaker on the ceiling, then back at you, a frown deepening on his face. There’s no way this could be happening right after you confessed your innocence—it can't be a coincidence. You’re grateful that your partner is here to rescue you, but the timing definitely needs improvement in the future. The sweet, heavy scent rises to your nose, and your body begins to feel strange—weak and feverish, as if you’re stranded in a desert, scorched by relentless heat. You notice Chuuya is affected too.

As you ponder the possibilities, the realization hits you: sex pollen. An experiment your partner mentioned a month ago that significantly increases hormones—and if you don’t get laid, death will welcome you to the other side. You thought she was joking at first, but this situation proves otherwise. You wouldn’t have minded her testing it on an enemy organization, but the problem is, you’re in their territory. Of all the days in the month, she had to choose today. You swear you’ll kick her ass after this.

“It’s sex pollen,” you warn, breathing heavily as you explain the situation. “We have to have sex, or we die.”

“Haa?” His eyes widen, looking at you as if you’ve said the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “Don’t make me laugh. You think you can joke around at a time like this?”

A fly—how it got in here is a mystery—appears between the two of you and suddenly collapses, falling to the floor. It’s unsettling; it makes no sense for an animal to die out of nowhere, confirming your suspicion that the pollen is to blame. “Well, detective, did you see that fly? It just died!” It’s just a consequence of not having any sexual interaction, after the unlucky speaker couldn’t finish their announcement. “None of us even touched it; it has to be the pollen. Either we fuck or we die.”

He gasps at the sight, unable to believe what’s happening before him. This whole situation feels like some kind of twisted fantasy that Dazai would be into. Chuuya’s body aches, scorched by an overwhelming heat. He can’t believe he has to trust a wanted criminal for a solution. He stands up from his chair, moving behind you. His hands slam down on either side of yours, hitting the table with more force this time. You spot cracks forming beneath his palms. Is he using his raw strength?

His head spins, thoughts consumed by you in this moment. Perhaps it’s the smell that makes him feel this way toward a criminal. Chuuya leans in closer, his hot breath brushing against your ear. He’s resolute in staying with you, ensuring you can’t escape—there’s no way he’ll let you get away. For once, he defies orders. “I’ll make you tell me everything I want to hear.”

-

“Beg for it, you bitch.” Chuuya's hand delivers a hard slap ass, showing no mercy on you or your reddened buttcheeks. His other hand grips your cheek tight as he lands another hard slap. Chuuya moves his hips, rubbing his hardened, thick cock against your wet cunt. “This whore wants me to fuck the shit out of her? Then you better beg for my dick.”

You moan and cry, caught between the sting of pain and the rush of pleasure, each feeling like waves crashing over you. You've lost count of how many slaps you've received from him; it's becoming too much to handle. It feels like hours have already passed. He knows he’s doing this to torture you, trying to make you confess. Your resistance is vanishing, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body. The mix of pain and pleasure isn’t enough to satisfy you; your body craves more of him. You turn your head, locking eyes with him—his gaze filled with anger and lust. His hair is messy, and his breaths are heavy, turning you on even more at the sight.

“Please…I need you...Please fuck me...I want your dick...” you beg again, throwing away all your dignity for him. In this heated moment, you're no longer thinking straight.. “I’ll tell you everything you want. So pleaseee…”

"Took you long enough... You were into this, weren’t you, fucking slut?" A smirk forms on his lips, like a madman achieving his goal—his victory over a poor, defeated enemy. Yet, Chuuya can’t cruelly refuse a pretty girl’s plea, especially when your voice trembles with need, stirring something deep within him and making him eager to give you what you desire most. Chuuya enters your entrance, causing you to gasp. Your body shivers at the unexpected movement. His cock twitches inside as he begins to move deeper into you. His pace quickens, driving into your sweet spot as he whimpers your name, cursing how good your body feels for him. Chuuya is lost in his feelings, unable to stop thinking about you, consumed by the pleasure you both share. Your eyes roll back, thighs trembling as your hands grip the edges of the table. In the heat of the moment, you accidentally reveal a secret you shouldn’t have, and now there’s no turning back. You feel like the biggest disappointment to your organization, but hey, at least you’re getting fucked good. There’s some luck in this misfortune that will make you feel a bit better after it’s all over.

[chilschuck]

AAAA i love your blog!! could i pls request a post-canon scenario where chilchuck finally admits his feelings for reader now that they’re not co-workers anymore >_< (assuming reader joined the laios party during the story)

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ WAAAAH ANON i’m so happy you love my stuff!! i LOVEDDD writing this for you, and i have another request in my askbox that’s similar that i’m going to do as well! this was super fun, and i found myself enjoying this idea and coming up with things i could do with it!!! i hope you enjoy!!! <333

— SHELTER: chilchuck x gn!reader.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, sfw fluff!! takes place post-canon.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 1745 (got carried away again…)

✦ i’m scared to reread this, but right now I’m actually happy with it!! i hope you are too!! <333 i tried my best to keep spoilers to a minimum, and to make this fun to read!! also, the title comes from the song shelter by ray lamontagne, which i listened to while writing it. i hope you enjoy!!!

With your party’s adventure finally over, you had decided to try and finally settle down as much as you could. With everyone finding their own new place in life, you did your best to find one too.

You couldn’t deny it had been rather lonely lately. Your own home was empty, a small place you had tried your best to make feel cozy. With your old party members living their own lives, you hoped you could live yours. But evidently, no matter how hard you tried, your mind always went back to him.

It was a bittersweet feeling; imagining him finally living healthily, working on helping others, and even maybe starting up that shop he talked about wanting. It wasn’t like you never saw him, but going on with every day life without him felt… mundane.

Chilchuck was working on himself, reconnecting with his family, and building the future he had hoped for. That alone helped you feel as much at peace as possible. Your feelings, to you, were not nearly as important as his own happiness. So here you waited, counting down the days you’d get to see him again. Maybe he’d be happy to see you too.

Little did you know, Chilchuck was devastatingly nervous. Buttoning up his shirt with shaky fingers, he tried his best to look as decent as he possibly could. It was the final thing he felt he needed to move on, and he wasn’t going to let himself ruin it. Not this, he told himself. There were some things he refused to let slip through his fingers, and one of them were his feelings he had developed for you.

Through it all, you had been by his side. An integral part of the party, you had built him up when he needed it most. Looking past all the mistakes, all the cynicism he liked to cloud himself with, you proved how much you simply cared. Not only for him, but for everyone. Chilchuck had fallen in love with you, and for once, he didn’t want to push those feelings down.

He had bought the flowers he knew you liked, tied with a sweet ribbon that he felt maybe was a bit too much. In fact, maybe all of this was a bit too much, but he hoped it’d work. Chilchuck even went to talk to Marcille about it all, a sign in his own mind that he was more smitten than he had been in years. Not to mention that he had, in fact, reconnected with his ex-wife, and had gained the closure he needed to take this big of a step. There was nothing holding him back now, and he could only hope the words of encouragement he was given would hold true.

Chilchuck had visited your home before, always noting just how comfortable he felt there. You were always happy to have guests lately, and he felt himself praying that this would be the case this time, too. Fist raised in front of your door, he took a deep breath before rapping it against the wood.

The knock came as a surprise, but not as surprising as the person who was behind it. Your eyes widened, his name leaving your lips in delight. “Chilchuck, hello!” It was slightly out of breath from the sheer excitement you had to try and suppress at seeing him here in front of you. Moving to the side, you motioned him in. “Do you… Want to come in?”

One hand behind his back still, trying his best to not snap the stems of the delicate flowers between his fingers, he nodded. “Yeah, sorry for the sudden visit.”

Shaking your head, you walked inside to prepare him something to drink. “Not at all! You know me… I could never say no to seeing you.”

It felt like another of Cupid’s arrows shot him through the chest. Maybe he shouldn’t look too deeply into your words, at least not yet. Following you inside, Chilchuck found himself trying his best to find anything to look at of interest. The plants on your shelves, the well loved books on the table, the occasional trinket you had decided you couldn’t live without… Everything that made it feel so much like you.

While you fiddled around in your small kitchen, Chilchuck cleared his throat. His mouth felt dry, and to try and slow down the thoughts rushing through his head, he spoke up again. “You know… You’ve done a great job with this place. I remember when you bought it.”

You couldn’t help but smile, thinking back fondly of how proud you were. Preparing you both glasses of wine, you turned your attention to him for a moment. “That means a lot, thank you. How have things been with the guild?”

Chilchuck hummed, eyes studying a particular painting on your wall. “Good… Pretty much the usual. Things are going pretty well. What about you, anything interesting since we last saw each other?”

Other than your constant war on your feelings for the half-foot, you’ve been trying new hobbies in order to distract yourself. As you turned to hand him the glass, you racked your brain for something to say. Giving him a sheepish smile, you shook your head. “Not particularly. Here, it’s one you like. Let’s go sit, yeah?”

He held your gaze for a moment, the flowers in his hand a constant reminder of what he was here for. Swallowing hard, he opened his mouth to speak. “Yeah. But first, I have something to give you…”

Finally taking the hand from behind his back, he steeled himself as much as he could before holding them out to you. Quickly setting the glasses down, you let out a sound of surprise. Your hands reached out for them, as delicate as possible.

Chilchuck felt like his face was a bit too hot for something as simple as this, but it’s been such a long time since he’s had to really woo anyone. How the hell did he manage to do this all those years ago? Scratching the back of his head, he broke the silence between the two of you.

“They’re your favorites, right? I happened to see ‘em and thought you’d be happy.”

Although Chilchuck felt like he was doing a piss poor job at this, you felt like you were swooning all over again. You know how much he used actions as a love language, yet could you even call it that in this situation? Friends did nice things for each other, yet…

His brows were furrowed in determination, the tips of his ears rosy and suddenly you felt like maybe there was something there. Your gaze fell to the buds in your hands, freshly picked and done so with care. The smile that made its way on your features was unabashed.

“Yes, yes they’re my favorites… I can’t believe you remembered that. Let me go get something to put them in. Thank you so much, Chil.”

It was worth it just to see you smile like that. Even if he felt a little ridiculous at the action, it paid off when you held the vase proudly in your hands. “I’m going to put them on my desk. I love them…” You spoke softly, your own cheeks turning that shade of pink he loved so much. For a few moments, it became silent again, his brain scrambling for what to say next.

“You asked me about my plans after our adventure was over. There… was something I wasn’t honest about. And I want to be honest about it now.”

Chilchuck made sure to correctly word everything he needed to say. Taking time in between his sentences, his gaze returned to yours. There was something there that you had only hoped you’d seen in the past; a taste of desire.

“I want to be there for you. I know we’re no longer coworkers, so…” The words fell silent, you remaining patient through his pauses. Softly, you gave a gentle phrase of reassurance. “You’re already there for me, I know that, Chil—”

Raising a hand, he silenced you. Contemplation took over his features, that worry line between his brows that you always found endearing still making an appearance. You waited for him to elaborate.

“…As more than friends.”

Your heart stopped. Did you hear him correctly? Certainly you did, your voice having gotten stuck in your throat as you tried to wrap your head around the weight those words carried. Was he saying that, this whole time, you’ve been a goal all along? Hearing your name, you snapped your attention back to him.

“I want to be more honest with how I feel. I know how I used to be, and I’m working towards fixing it.” His deep brown eyes held a small glimmer of hope, of vulnerability. Chilchuck was trying, and he was trying for you.

Feeling as if the wind was knocked out of your lungs, you asked shakily, “You want…?”

He smiled, a small etch in his features. Huffing, Chilchuck fiddled with the collar of his shirt. “You’re really gonna make me spell it out for you? I… Have feelings for you. If you don’t feel the same I get it, don’t—“

Before he could finish his sentence, you hurriedly set the flowers down before just about tackling him. The shock of hearing him say exactly what you’d been wishing for so long melted into a need to relay exactly how you felt. Chilchuck grunted at the impact, nearly toppling over.

“Of course I feel the same! You think I’d put up with your grumpy ass for this long if I didn’t?” You couldn’t help the teasing words that followed, pulling away from him to grin widely at him. “Can I kiss you?”

Your excitement caught him even more off guard, eyes widening at your question. “Sorry, that was probably a bit too much—“

Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Chilchuck tugged you to his lips in a desperate attempt to get you to just shut up and do it. You happily obliged, only pulling away to ask one more question. “How long?”

Chilchuck panted, confusion evident on his features. “What?”

“How long have you felt this way?” Your curiosity was getting the better of you, wondering just how long you two had managed to dance around each other like this. Chilchuck sighed, giving the only answer he could think to say:

“Too long.”

— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <3

[love-jelly]

THE VALIDATION.

sypnosis: precious, sweet choso would never ever deny you in any way, always opting to let you do whatever you wanted for your own entertainment and satisfaction, even if it includes giving you his heart and body.

contents: tutor!choso, sub!choso, dom!reader, pet names (choso: cutie, baby, bubs, darling, pretty prince, good boy | reader: mommy), dirty talk, hair pulling (m!receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public sex (does this even count idk), choso is desperate for some puthy (YOUR puthy), overstimulation (m!receiving), praise kink

word count: 1.4k+

a/n: based on this idea by @hotlinemurder ! tysm to maki for blessing my tl with this idea and i hope i did it justice !! hope u enjoy !! minors dni. ageless / blank / minor blogs will be blocked if seen interacting!

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choso tutors you every wednesday and friday afternoon from twelve pm to two pm every other week in the university library. a timeline you both come up with to nicely accommodate both of your schedules- him with his studies and you with your parties and whatnot. not to say you don’t focus on school, you do, life’s just easier when you can ignore all the pending assignments that are due at 11:59pm and all the teachers that seemingly have it out for you.

but choso is sweet, unnecessarily so even when you try to quietly yawn at his rambling that seems to bounce off the walls of the study room you two rented. even when you start doodling in your notebook, when you’re supposed to be writing down what he’s trying to teach you. life is just more fun when you let go, something you’re sure choso doesn’t know how to do when you don’t show him how to.

choso is a straight-a student and tutor, teaching you topics better than any of your professors on the surface. but when you have him in the palm of your hand, with actions that are only a little suggestive? you’ll surely have him fucking you better than any of them too.

a few taps from the tip of a black pen on your notebook shakes you from your thoughts, choso gazing at you with concern evident in his eyes and a cute frown.

“you do know midterms are two weeks away, right?” the concerned lilt in his tone is cute but not cute enough for you to really care, knowing you would rather be doing anything else than studying calculus four.

you look up and smile apologetically, “sorry, cutie, but partial differentiation of functions is not on my mind right now.”

he blushes softly at the pet name but holds his ground, “but you didn’t come to any lecture last week. these questions are gonna be on the exam, you have to know them.”

you stand up, going behind him to undo the two buns he keeps atop his head, “‘s alright, i have you, don’t i?” the locks of hair unravel like a pretty present as you massage the mop around, evening the spread of his pretty brown hair.

“that’s why i’m trying to teach you right now but you won’t even listen,” he softly whines in slight protest, distracted by the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair.

“i have a better idea- don’t you wanna have fun?” you twist yourself onto his lap, thighs fitting atop his as you straddle him. you twist your hand into a fist to garner a hold of his hair, pulling it back to lift his head to expose his pretty wide eyes.

“b-but-” he stammers, moving his head to the side to avoid your eye contact, not sure what excuse to use. you roughly pull his hair again to force him to face you again, a mewl falling from his lips.

you cut him off with a soft voice, “you want me to stop?” you press chaste kisses to his jaw and throat, leaving an especially hard one on his adam’s apple, a soft sigh slipping out from his mouth.

he groans, unable to find an answer in his now-muddled brain. “please-”

precious, sweet choso would never ever deny you in any way, always opting to let you do whatever you wanted for your own entertainment and satisfaction, even if it includes giving you his heart and body.

“please what, baby?” you smile lightly, knowing he would always give into pleasure, give into you. 

“please make me cum,” his usual honeyed, deep voice is exchanged for a separate breathy, higher tone that’s reserved for your ears and your ears alone.

“all you had to say, bubs,” you lightly grind your core to his hardening, twitching cock, that seemingly was begging for some sort of stimulation that could help relieve the hot bubble that was forming in his lower belly.

something between a whine and a groan erupts from choso’s lips as you go in for another kiss, you swallowing up his sounds by connecting your lips.

“we’re in the library, darling. remember to be quiet, ‘kay?” you remind him with a sweet smile as if you weren’t the reason for his loud volume.

he whimpers, “s-sorry, mommy, please-” he chokes out, “c-can i put it in?”

you reach down and pull his cock out of his pants and give it a few jerks. “do you deserve it?”

choso scrunches his face in pleasure, eyes shut and lips wet with both his and your saliva. he manages to open his eyes a bit and breathe out, “yes- yes i do- please?” his brown orbs plead with you for stimulation- for pleasure- for mercy.

“put it in then, show me how desperate you are for me,” his fingers are fumbling around, pushing your skirt up and realizing you’re wearing his favorite lacy violet panties underneath, he groans quietly to himself admiring the wet spot on it for a second. set back on his prior mission, he pushes his cock into your panties, creating a large wet spot as he humps the scratchy material to find pleasure.

“my pretty prince, right? look at you, you just wanna get off, huh? i’ll let you use my pussy- so you better use it well.”

“thank- you, mommy,” he mewls softly before aligning himself with your hole. he quickly shoves it in- catching you off guard, forcing a hiss and moan from your lips that he quickly shuts up with a kiss that you dominate early on.

his hands have you in a vice-like grip that’s sure to leave bruises, holding you a few inches above his own body as his hips uncontrollably rut up into you, balls slapping on your buttcheeks.

“f-fuck- what would your parents say about this, huh? their p-precious little boy so desperate to cum inside of a woman?” you bite his earlobe, moaning directly into it, only serving to make choso’s dick impossibly harder.

“do-don’t-”

“don’t what, bubs? don’t tell your parents? but with how much you c-cum inside me, won’t we have to tell them when we have a b-baby?” you chortle in his ear, his face tinted red from embarrassment but still rutting up into you, desperately searching for release that feels so close with the way you’re clenching around him, still wanting to cum inside you as if it was his lifes goal.

“c-can’t- please- please let me cum inside.” he nearly sobs, his orgasm feeling like it’s approaching.

“don’t stop, don’t stop. you’re doing so so good for me, bubs. keep going- just a bit more, you’re almost there, baby,” you whisper into his ear, keenly aware of the effect your words have on him.

“please, please, please- let me-” 

“you wanna cum? you wanna cum in me? give your parents a grandbaby? you want that huh- you want your parents to know what a dirty whore you are for wet pussy- my wet pussy? come, come inside me.” your filthy words spill out of your mouth and into his flushed ear like whispers of an eternal bliss in hell.

a chain of “yes”s leave his lips in needy murmurs as he nears his climax. his thrusts into you become shorter and sloppier as you hug him closer, quieting your own moans by putting forth effort in marking up his neck.

a long, languid moan is ripped out from choso’s chest with his hips still rutting into you, albeit slower now, steadily fucking his cum into you, although his cock is still semi-hard. “let me- let me make you cum, please?”

you breathily laugh, “keep fucking me, baby, i’m almost there.”

choso continues his actions through strained movements, overstimulating himself, still roughly but quietly moaning through his own pain and pleasure. pulling you closer and staring at your pretty face filled with pleasure, he seems to be mesmerized by every feature on your face that contorts to prove that you were finding as much bliss in this as he is.

“fuck, i’m close, baby. gonna make me cum? make me cum,” choso quickens his pace, grunting in exertion. with a hand slapped over your mouth to hold back your shriek, you cum, spasming around his cock. fucking you through your orgasm, choso whines. he was so focused on making you cum that he didn’t realize he was nearing his second orgasm and with one last thrust into you, he spills a second load into you.

“good boy, choso. you did so well,” your validation makes him feel tingles all around his stomach, butterflies awakening in his stomach.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

if you enjoyed this, please reblog and/or consider following me!

a/n: honestly i hate this n i felt like it was WAY too fast paced. BUT i promised a fic so here's one amidst my busy schedule :') life stop fucking me in the ass when :/ thank you for reading !!!

[justwinginglife]

Omg! Hii!

Anyways, I would love for you to write something like, maybe y/n is petty, because soshiro and y/n were both battling it out for the vice captain job? Soshiro Thinks Y/n hates his guts because shes always roasting him. Oneday, he stumbles opon her diary, and finds out shes actually a die-hard simp

OH MAYBE SHE SAYS SOMETHING LIKE "I love it when he bosses me around' EHEHE

Anyways love your fics!! <3

@soshirohoshinasimp Yay it's you again! Hello dear, so happy you love my fics! Appreciate you so much. I hope you continue writing as well! Also, thank you so much for this prompt, I had so much fun writing it, it's definitely one of my favs.

Follow Me

You and Hoshina butt heads so frequently it was a wonder your heads weren't permanently mashed together at this point.

It started when you both met during the Defense Force Exam- he had already taken down a third of the kaiju in the arena and he had the nerve to snatch one of your kills from you, the attention-seeking bastard. You had your gun aimed and ready, finger curled around the trigger, about to shoot, and he swooped in and sliced the kaiju to bits. In response, you chased him all over the training grounds, sniping every beast he went after before he could even react. And that was how he found out that there was actually someone who could keep up with his speed. Yeah, he was annoyed as shit, which pleased you immensely.

Then, when you were both rookie officers in the same division, you'd constantly be competing over combat power. He'd increase his stamina through vigorous training, bragging to you that he was at 40% and then you'd shoot back that he was still too damn slow because you were at 45%. Then he'd learn a new sword style technique and hit 50% with a smug look on his stupid face and you'd rush to keep up, vowing to him you'd make him choke on your dust one day when you left him behind. Sometimes you'd swear that just the act of pissing you off upped his combat power because it gave him the biggest rush. Some days, you weren't even sure if he cared about the numbers anymore, he just liked to push your buttons. Well you always pushed right back.

You accidentally glimpsed some old pics of Hoshina when he was a kid and you realized he'd had the same haircut his entire life so he must have one hell of a consistent barber. And that barber had to have hella dirt on him, having known him his whole life. So, of course, you tracked down his barber (like any sane person would do, right?) and coaxed him into telling you stories about Hoshina when he was little.

The next day, the base was abuzz with gossip about the time that Hoshina almost drowned at the hair salon because he tried to scoot further up in his chair while his barber was still shampooing him and he hit his head on the faucet, choking down the water in the process, and Hoshina just knew you had something to do with it. After all, how could it have not been you? You had the most satisfied, most devilish look on your face all day, though you never admitted it was you who spread the rumors.

After that day, it seemed nothing was off limits anymore. Hoshina spread hideous pictures of you with braces on when you were a teenager all throughout campus (to this day, you were still unsure how on earth he found them, you thought you'd destroyed all trace of the evidence) and as payback, you hid erectile dysfunction medications in his bag and then slit a hole in the bottom of it so when he spilled the contents of his bag in the locker room the next day in front of all the other officers and then denied it vehemently the other officers just took his denial as further confirmation of his... issue.

But as nasty as both of your pranks seemed, some of them were actually quite amusing, even endearing. You'd had a bad day at work one day and to cheer you up (you think), Hoshina set a litter of puppies loose in your bedroom. You did have a shit ton (pun intended) of shit to clean up after that, but it didn't matter, you'd already cheered up when you saw their adorable wagging tails and big round eyes. So, to repay him, you filled every square inch of his room with bottles of his favorite coffee. He couldn't sleep on his own bed for weeks, but at least he had a long lasting supply of wake-up juice.

And the two of you got to know each other extremely well through all this competing and bickering. He'd figured out what time you liked to go to your favorite bakery and he'd buy out their entire stock of your favorite pastry before you got there. It took you awhile to figure out how they were always cleaned out of only your favorite snack everyday, but then one day you got injured in a fight and you found him leaving a chocolate croissant by your hospital bed when you woke up.

It seemed like things were taking a different turn than you'd thought, and maybe the two of you could actually be friends for once, instead of rivals.

But then you both got the same letter saying that one of you would be the new Vice Captain of the Third Division and it all depended on your performance going forward.

"Only 70% combat power, huh? Not very 'Vice Captain' of you. Maybe I'll have less competition than I thought." You'd smugly say to him in passing.

He'd roll his eyes and say, "Oh yeah? And how's that training of yours going by the way? Cuz I could've sworn I beat you by nearly half a mile in that last marathon, getting slow in your old age?"

You were the same damn age as him. Fucker.

But even though the two of you would tease each other like you always did, you could tell that this time things were different. There were actual stakes on the line and one of your futures would be greatly impacted by this. You were both so young, it would be an impressive feat to be Vice Captain at this age. Both of you wanted that badge of honor to parade around.

Eventually, you were neck and neck. Both about 90% each. For the first time you were evenly matched. It was anyone's call who'd be the next Vice Captain.

It even crossed your mind that neither of you would ever be Vice Captain and the two of you would just be locked in a life long battle to be better than the other. But one day, something changed your mind and changed the course of both of your futures.

You saw him training someone in secret, someone who had absolutely no chance of being in the Defense Force and honestly had no business being in the Defense Force with how weak he was. But Hoshina saw his potential and he spent his free time nurturing that potential. That made you think about all the other little things Hoshina would do like this.

If someone was down about their skill level, he'd always point out something that was so obviously impressive about them and his simple logic would always win them over, cheering them up. Because how could he be wrong if it actually made sense? He'd say it like it was a simple statement, like he was just reciting a fact, but you knew he'd put thought into trying to comfort them.

If a kaiju was particularly difficult to defeat, Hoshina would look at all the angles, strategizing different ways to bring them down, ways that normal people wouldn't even consider. Even if it was crazy, if it was possible, if it would save more people, he'd do it with no hesitation.

He was fearless and strong, but he was also selfless and kind. And you'd started to adore that about him.

So you wrote a letter to the Captain of the Third Division withdrawing your desire to be Vice Captain, saying you'd follow wherever Hoshina led.

It was your little secret. Until it wasn't.

You swore you saw Hoshina coming out of your room one day, but when you didn't find it filled to the brim with anything, didn't see any trace of his usual pranks, you thought you might have imagined things.

But then when he ignored you for an entire week, not even bothering to tease you or respond to your teasing, you knew something was very wrong. You even started to miss him annoying you, and that realization deepened the pit in your stomach even further.

Then he showed up at your door.

"Can I... can I come in?"

You stared at him for a moment. "Um... sure?" You stepped aside awkwardly, unsure what was about to happen, but you missed him so much you'd let it happen anyway.

He paced in front of your desk for a moment and then he finally said, "I got the Vice Captain position."

You smiled. "Congrats. I'm happy for you."

He groaned at that. "Don't. Don't do that, don't say that. I only got the position because of you."

You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he could be talking about. Surely he didn't know about your letter... right? "What do you mean? You got the position because you deserved it." Your words were still true, you did feel he was the best person for the job.

"Yeah but you wrote that damn letter. At first I was so pissed at you, and then I was so pissed off at myself for feeling like I couldn't have gotten the spot without you."

You gulped. Well shit. Cat's out of the fucking bag now.

"Hoshina-"

"No, I'm not done yet. Let me finish."

You let him continue but you sank into the couch, feeling like the shock of having this conversation was too much to handle standing.

"I read your diary. I felt like we'd been so stressed lately competing for Vice Captain, I thought a lighthearted joke would bring us back to where we were before, so I wanted to see what I could do to get you to smile again. So I flipped through your diary, and yes, I know where you hide it, don't even give me that look- you're not very good at hiding things and you know I know you too well for this."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. The familiar sound eased your nerves a little. Just a little. You still held your breath as he continued, wondering just how much he read.

"I was shocked by the way, here I was thinking you hated me and I come to find out that you think it's cute when I boss you around and you actually like being around me." He teased, nudging you playfully.

You flushed at that but remained silent.

"But then I read that you'd sent in the letter withdrawing from the running. I was so furious I couldn't even read the rest. So I sulked for a week. But now I'm here. And I want to know why. I know you well enough to know this can't be a joke. You'd never throw away something so important for the sake of a prank, so tell me why. Why'd you do it?" His eyes were desperate and pleading and you knew you couldn't lie to him.

You cleared your throat, meeting his gaze even though every part of you wanted to look away. "I meant what I said. You deserve the position, more than me even. I'm strong, but I don't inspire people the way you do. I'm fast, but I don't rally people the way you do. And I care about people, but you love people. You were meant to do great things and I guess I just realized I wanted to watch you do them. I'll follow wherever you go, Soshiro."

It was his turn to flush now, realizing that this was the first time you'd ever called him by his first name, and with such sincerity no less. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to compose the right words to say. He finally settled on mumbling, "You always were a pain in the ass, you know that?"

You laughed at that, a real genuine laugh and it made him smile. "I could say the same for you. But you know... I can't seem to live without you being a thorn in my side anymore. Is that so strange?"

He shook his head quickly. "I feel the same. It's like I need you near me or I can't go on with my life."

You both go silent as the weight of this realization hits you hard.

"Follow me. Be by my side. Wherever I go, I want you there with me," He said finally, quoting your earlier words. He held a hand out to you and you took it, squeezing it tight and then pressing a kiss to it.

He's shocked but then he says with a smirk, "I think you missed." He points to his lips.

"Yeah, no, you're going to have to buy me dinner first." You tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

He grins widely and you take in the sweet sight.

"I can do that. I'll buy you a million dinners if that's what it takes."

[why-are-you-still-awake]

How would Shikamaru,Neji, Sasuke react to Vampire s/o

A/n: i love vampires! Thanks for the request! I’m going to try a new format so bear with me. I also think this is the first time i wrote about Shikamaru. I’ve made shorter bullet points but with more concepts.

Characters: Shikamaru, Neji, Sasuke

Warning/content: mentions of blood, biting, gn reader, blood kink(maybe?),did I miss anything?

Shikamaru Nara

♥ At first he didn’t know what to think, he always thought vampires were fake. After he found out he didn’t start treating you different, he didn’t care, like at all. It was very surprising for you. ♥

♥ He understands when you don’t want to go outside, contrary to popular belief you don’t burn in the sun, you just get a very uncomfortable rash. And hey if you don’t go outside then he doesn’t have to either.♥

♥ Since Shikamaru sleeps quite a bit and well you don’t, he’ll just wrap his arms around your waist and not let you up. He really loves holding you but will deny it when in company of his teammates; he has a reputation to uphold after all. ♥

♥ Does he let you bite him? Yes, yes he does, he knows you need nourishment and he doesn’t want you near anyone else, you’re his after all. But secretly he finds the feeling of you sinking your teeth into his neck arousing. ♥

♥ You really try to be careful whenever you’re feeding from him because you really don’t want to hurt him. He means too much to you. However there has been times when you went a little overboard and made him dizzy. He wasn’t very happy about that but he couldn’t find it in him to be mad after seeing how remorseful you looked. ♥

♥ If you don’t drink blood for awhile, you get moody and Shikamaru can’t help but tease you, knowing that his attitude might just get him pinned to the wall. ♥

♥ He’ll be honest, he was kinda freaked out at first when he found out you were a vampire. He didn’t want you to feel bad but he felt uncomfortable. He knew it’d take some time to get used to. ♥

♥ Neji finds you fascinating, despite his original hesitation he couldn’t help but want to learn more about you and your experiences as a vampire. Once he got over his discomfort he’d ask to see your fangs like I said, he was fascinated by you. ♥

♥ Like Shikamaru he’s very understanding when you need sleep and how your sleep schedule is less than orthodox. He likes when you stay with him at night when you’re usually awake and just lay in bed with him while he sleeps. It makes him feel safe. ♥

♥ Does he let you bite him? At first it was a resounding absolutely not, as much as he loved you his fear still ran deep even if he didn’t show it. Before he got comfortable, your fangs made him nervous but after an awhile he opened up more to the idea and finally let you bite him. He enjoyed it much more than he’d confess.♥

♥ He understood your nature and the fact you could get a little too passionate sometimes and accidentally bite too hard. In order to not upset you he tries to suppress the pain he’s feeling but it’s evident all over his face. He was relieved when you apologized and licked the excess blood away. ♥

♥ As a vampire you definitely have mood swings, he’s fairly good at handling them by keeping calm and not turning it into something bigger than it needs to be, he gets that you can’t control it. ♥

♥ He definitely wasn’t as freaked out as Neji, it intrigued him more than anything. Wasn’t a big fan of the idea of being bitten though, he’s seen horrible things so he didn’t mind you being a vampire. ♥

♥ He learns to appreciate your culture as a vampire and humor in your deep seated hatred of most vampire media for obvious reasons. He didn’t get much sleep at night so it was nice to have someone to stay up with him.♥

♥ As I mentioned, he enjoys your non existent sleep schedule because he doesn’t like to be alone at night. So the fact that you can stay up with him is amazing and relieving to him. It doesn’t matter what you two do together he just wants to be with you, no matter how much he denies it.♥

♥ Now the pressing question; does he let you bite him? Surprisingly yet unsurprisingly yes he does but not without hesitation the first few times, he’s not sure how he feels about the feeling of his blood leaving his body, it’s not like you’re rough with him but it’s still sharp objects piercing the skin. He gets that’s how you eat and is happy to supply.♥

♥ Now, he has a very high pain tolerance so truly you can bite him as hard as you want to an extent. Just *not* his curse mark, that’s a big no no for obvious reasons. But let’s say you bit him a little too hard, he’d flinch but wouldn’t say anything. He loves you and wants to help you as best you can.♥

♥ When you get grumpy, Sasuke can’t help but be amused by this development. Now he wouldn’t purposely try to make your life harder however when he gets the chance to tease you he will. It’s a way of showing affection.♥

A/n: I hope this was okay! I tried a new format so tell me if you like it better than my other one and I’ll keep doing this one. Thank you Anon for the request I definitely had lots of fun writing this.

Tagging: @ssailormoonn @your-sexual-curiosities

[shadamyheadcanons]

Who would be the first to confess? Or the first to realize their feelings?

I’m of two minds on this. In my experience, the more common concept is “Shadow falls first, Amy falls harder.” This Twitter thread sums up the trope very well:

[Image ID: a screenshot of a tweet by user absolutesilly on April 17th, 2023 that reads, “it’s important to me that the “A fell first, B fell harder” trope ISN’T about B loving A more. it’s about A spending a long time just getting used to having this (seemingly) hopeless pining going on in the background 24/7, while B is just. hit by a truck with it all of a sudden.

fell first: been suppressing their emotions for so long that it’s like white noise to them. always there but mostly manageable. a bruise that only hurts when you press on it

fell harder: if We Don’t Get Married Tomorrow I’m Gonna Start Biting People” /.End ID]

And I don’t think I even have to clarify which one’s which. Shadow’s love is quiet and intense. He’s loyal and devoted. His affection is usually of the slow-burn variety. He hasn’t had any canonical crushes so far, but you can see it in his familial/platonic love for those he cares about. It’s natural to assume romance would be the same way.

And falling hard and fast is what Amy does. Need I mention Sonic? And her desire for marriage?

“Shadow has a crush on Amy for months/years until he suddenly sweeps her off her feet” is common for a reason. I’ve written plenty of it myself, including multiple WIPs. It was how I saw these two for a very long time, and there’s no denying that it’s compelling and in-character. If I were writing a shadamy-esque relationship in a movie, I’d write them that way.

HOWEVER...

I don’t think game canon is following that trajectory.

Under the cut: lots of ranting and images/hints, both old and new. You’ll recognize a lot of this if you’ve read my meta analysis posts, particularly why I ship them, how they’d resolve their arguments, and my feelings on TMOSTH. There’s a tl;dr and relevant headcanon at the end.

In my opinion, “Amy falls for Shadow later” doesn’t quite jive with canon because I think there’s ample evidence to suggest she already has a crush on him. It’s not as strong or obvious as the one she has on Sonic yet, but it’s there, just a little. To make a long story short:

She doesn’t look at someone like this...

[Shadow the Hedgehog 2005]

unless she has a crush on them:

[Sonic CD]

She doesn’t go out of her way to seek someone out this fervently...

[Sonic Battle]

...unless she has a crush on them:

[Sonic X]

She doesn’t insist on bringing someone along like this...

[The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog]

unless she has a crush on them:

Wallpaper posted on Sonic Channel 2/22/21. Art by Yuji Uekawa

One fun aspect of all of this is that the social media team seems to agree with me and keeps noticeably leaning into it. The Twitter Takeovers obviously aren’t canon and I’m not putting those in the “evidence” pile, but it’s cute how they keep having Amy act flustered about her feelings regarding him, and it’s definitely not something I’m imagining this time. It’s most obvious at 18:14 here:

The gushing, the stuttering...it’s obvious what they’re implying. Cindy Robinson’s very convincing at sounding smitten with him, which isn’t surprising considering her feelings on shadamy:

The question before that one in the Takeover arguably counts, too, and the social media team was primarily in charge of The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, after all. This is consistent for them. There are plenty of other bits and pieces from them and the not-so-subtle marketing team these days, but I’d be ranting like a conspiracist and hunting down links all day if I got started on those.

^ Me at 2am.

I bring this up not just because it’s fun, but also to prove I’m not the only one who sees it. It’s definitely there, and it always makes me wonder what would’ve happened if she’d met Shadow first instead of Sonic. Would her little crush on Shadow have become the primary one if he’d entered her life first? Would we see this kind of thing all the time if Shadow were the protagonist?

[IDW issue 59]

Yes

We’ll never know, I guess! 🙃

Regardless, she met Sonic first, so her attention is...divided. She’s usually in-tune with her emotions, so even though her outlook on love is tinted somewhat by hero worship, I do think she’d figure out she had feelings for Shadow if her crush on Sonic were sidelined. As she got to know him better, she’d find even more things to love about him, and before long, she’d be hooked.

For Shadow’s part, it’s pretty clear to anyone who’s paying attention that he has a soft spot for her of some kind. In my experience, even non-shadamy fans will usually agree with this if asked. And why wouldn’t they?

1. He let her hug him and see him cry in SA2, then saved the world because she asked him to. There’s a reason fans hate it whenever Amy’s elevator speech at the end of SA2 is put in someone else’s mouth. It’s just not believable that he’d save the world for anyone else--not Sonic, not Chris Thorndyke--because the gentleness isn’t there for anyone but her. That had to be built and proven.

2. She inspired yet another heel-turn of his in the conspicuously-named “Miracle of Love” route in ShTH where “bad boy” Shadow ditches Black Doom to help her, resulting in a hero classification.

I think we undersell how big of a deal this is. For those who aren’t too familiar with Shadow the Hedgehog (2005), that story route starts out with Shadow ignoring Sonic and...*checks notes*...defeating fifty G.U.N. soldiers? The mission says “defeat,” not “kill.” But Black Doom says “finish off those soldiers,” “destroy them all,” “exterminate,” and “annihilate.” In a game where you’re explicitly encouraged to use firearms. On human soldiers. So this Shadow quite possibly has a significant body count by the end of the level, and then he immediately snubs Rouge to destroy Earth’s digital highway system. There’s a reason he can’t get a hero ending past that point if he doesn’t help Amy. Just like in SA2, she’s the only one left who can turn him into a hero. She speedruns his redemption with one jaunt through a haunted castle. This is the sequence:

[Source]

The way he trails off at, “I didn’t have any reason to help her, but since I was looking for the doctor anyway, I figured...” stands out, like he’d forgotten how good of a person he can be.

This brief Twitter thread summarizes the events in a much funnier way than I can:

3. The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog is the most recent and blatant example. Goes to a party. Dresses up in a silly outfit. Embarrasses himself to get her a thoughtful gift. Agrees to go to a concert for a band he can’t stand just to make her happy. I don’t think I even need to explain this one, but if you want to see me do so anyway, here’s that link again.

4. In Team Sonic Racing, he’s sweet to her when they’re on the same team...

...and he’s borderline flirtatious when they’re on opposing teams. ;)

His lines are delivered in a snarky, teasing way, especially when he calls her cute, and she’s matching that competitive banter.

[Source: this Twitter thread by MeliCross22:

Absolutely worth a read, and it includes links to the lines so you can actually hear them.]

The question is whether his soft spot is romantic in nature, and as biased as I am...I don’t buy it. In the first two, she’s just reminding him of who he is by calling to mind his memories of Maria, and “Miracle of Love” isn’t meant in a romantic way. Likewise, in TMOSTH, it’s extremely sweet of him and he wouldn’t do that for anyone else, but it’s still not inherently romantic. TSR is less cut-and-dried. It could be flirtation, but it could also just be the race stoking their competitive spirits. It’s also just a side game, and while it’s still canon, I don’t know if Sega would put that kind of dynamic between them in the main series. It could be a case of the TSR writers being secret shadamy fans who are tossing us crumbs, but it could also just be them mixing it up so there isn’t yet another instance of Amy saying variations of “Sorry, but I’m in it to win it!” every time she hits someone with an item. Trust me, it gets old.

Canonically, I don’t see Shadow as being romantically interested in anyone to a significant extent at the moment, Amy included. He’s been too focused on his past, his identity crisis, the alien invasion, etc. I don’t think there’ll really be room for romance in his life until he fully makes peace with his trauma. This moment at the end of his game...

...just doesn’t do that. Shadow Dark Beginnings has made it abundantly clear that he hasn’t moved on.

And this is where Amy comes in, because I think she’s the ideal person for the job.

Sega seems to pivot back and forth between “Shadow has no friends” and “Shadow has two friends, but he even keeps them at a distance sometimes.” Without people in his life who are willing to reach out, he withdraws, and it’s really not good for him. A lot of fans feel he’s hesitant to bond with others because no one else is immortal and he knows how painful loss is. It’s not explicitly stated, but it’s consistent with his behavior. Isolating himself is easy. It’s safe. It’s something he can control.

But it’s not sustainable.

He needs love. He needs it so much. It’s his very purpose, in the most literal sense. Maria said it best in episode 2 of Dark Beginnings:

“You have a big heart! It may be difficult for you to express it, but I know that deep down you really do care. About me. About everyone! What you do is what defines you. I know you’re having a hard time finding answers, but I’m certain you will one day. Then, you’ll find even more people you can trust.”

^ This is what I mean when I say Maria would love Amy. Amy’s the only other character who feels love as deeply as Shadow does, the only one who could fully understand, and she just so happens to be a clingy girl who’ll reach out to anyone, even people who think they want to be left alone. It’s baffling that Sega basically hasn’t let them interact for two decades because she absolutely would insist on befriending him.

Shadow hides, but Amy chases. She loves a challenge and doesn’t shy away if she feels she belongs with someone, even if that person runs. If she decided Sonic wasn’t right for her, I think it’s only natural that she’d pursue Shadow given her obvious fondness for him. The only difference is that when someone chases Shadow, he doesn’t run. He clings. He clung to Maria, he clung to Team Dark, and he’d cling to her, too, and I don’t think he’d stand a chance against her charm from there. He’s a romantic in his own way, and that soft spot of his would turn rose-tinted in a heartbeat. If there’s anyone who could convince him that love is worth it, it’d be her; I highly doubt she’d regret her past love of Sonic, and if he thought about it, I don’t think he’d regret his attachment to Maria, either. Amy told him the people of Earth deserved a chance to be happy. Now he lives on Earth with her. Couldn’t she convince him that he deserves that chance, too?

And if he hesitated and tried to ignore his feelings for Amy, I could see Rouge stepping in to kick him in the right direction. It wouldn’t be the first time she talked some sense into him for the sake of his own happiness:

[IDW issue 36]

tl;dr: Amy already likes Shadow. If she spent more time with him, those feelings would grow, and it wouldn’t be long before she’d be pursuing him in earnest. With her talent for breaking down barriers and his existing soft spot for her, it wouldn’t be a very long chase.

This headcanon is the one that I think portrays it best. I don’t think I’ll ever fully stop writing Shadow Falls First, Amy Falls Harder because it’s so damn compelling, but I love this interpretation, too, and it lines up too well with canon to ignore.

[kismets-barista]

Lil Brozone, Floyd- centric oneshot for y'all's enjoyment!

Spoilery for Band Together, so if you're still awaiting watching the movie I'd suggest waiting to read, my friends! Have a lovely night!

Five months, twenty eight days.

That’s how long it had taken him to be able to walk without having to stop for breath.

Floyd was fully recovering, slowly but surely. After moving back to Pop Village, there’d been nothing for him except plenty of rest, John Dory’s incessant mother henning (seriously, that guy was the textbook definition of Anxiety even if he continued to deny it,) and help from his brothers to recuperate. They’d laid off on any public performances, putting aside thoughts of the word tour for later on. Way later on. 

But today was the day. Finally the day they’d decided to put on a public performance, a day that had all of them on their toes with preparations for the five song ‘concert.’ The energy buzzing in the air was something Floyd had missed, but the troll could honestly barely concentrate on how excited he was as his chest filled with sticky, sludgy feelings of dread. The magenta-haired troll sat in front of his light-rimmed vanity mirror, staring back at the shock of white that ran from the roots of his hair and up to the middle. 

He thought he’d gotten over this. 

It wasn’t going to change. It was evident that his hair, along with himself, had permanently changed as a result of that capture. Of his death. 

And pretty much everyone in the village knew that it was a result of something. A bad something. 

Some of them, Cooper specifically, had outright asked. But he didn’t have the best buffer, so Floyd couldn’t find it in his heart to be mad. Others had given him looks, even staring as he began to get out of the house those first months. He could remember the eyes trained on him as John Dory slowly helped him along, talking about an adventure he’d gone on way ‘back in his day,’ as he liked to call it. Floyd had kept to himself, mostly, until John Dory noticed how quiet his brother was being and did something the younger couldn’t.

He stared back at the trolls. Sure, it probably planted the seeds of assumption that John Dory was every bit as standoffish as Branch used to be, but Floyd had to admire his brother’s determination to keep him comfortable. 

“Ten minutes til final soundchecks!” Mayday (Brozone’s stage director’s) voice cut through the silence, and Floyd jerked out of his reverie. He sighed, opening the drawer to his desk and fished through a thousand hair products and ties to pull out a fluffy, white scrunchy. Maybe pulling it up would help lessen the… amount of times people had to see his hair. Floyd let out another sigh as he pulled up his hair, staring himself down in the mirror as he twisted it every which way. “Come on… there’s gotta be some way I can make you look normal again,” he whispered fiercely, tugging on his hair harder as desperation bubbled in his chest. Every way he moved it, white, white, white. The young troll’s hands began to shake as he started to tie it up, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as his breathing shortened. 

How could he go out there looking like this? It’s bad enough as it is, why did he think for a second that today would be any different with how he felt about this… this awful hair of his? 

He considered flaking on his brothers as his breaths began to come out in short gasps. A thousand different excuses flitted through his mind, and Floyd began to grasp at them, one by one. He wasn’t feeling well. He was exhausted again. He couldn’t catch his breath quite right - no, that one would send them into a panic, probably. The thoughts crescendoed, and Floyd yanked on the scrunchie a bit too hard. It snapped, and rebounded on his hand. Causing the duo-tone haired-troll to yelp in pain. He flicked his head in the air, waving off the sting before letting his head sink down to rest on the top of the vanity. He was getting himself way too worked up… this wasn’t going to help anything. He needed to do this show. Needed to prove that he was… fine. Well. As fine as he could be.

“This is for all the lonely people…” he whisper-sang to himself, voice breathy as he steadied his pounding heart. Pulling on his fingers gently. “Thinking that life has passed us by…”

“We won’t give up until we, drink from that silver cup, and ride…” Floyd’s voice tapered off as he frowned, momentum to sing even to himself puttering off. Today was supposed to be a happy day. But here he slumped, moping like someone had just kicked a box of kittens in front of him.

“Ride that highway in the sky.” The lyric lifted softly as a question, and the troll sat up and looked behind himself in confusion. His face lit up at the sight of Branch, his baby brother leaning against the doorframe with his arms loosely crossed against each other.

“Oh, Branch. Hey.” Floyd offered him a grin, to which his younger brother readily responded with one of his own. 

“Hey. Was looking for you. JD wanted us to have a little meeting or whatever before our final soundchecks for the show so I came to get you. How’re you feeling?” He asked while walking over, sitting near his brother. Taking in everything about the older troll, inquisitive blue eyes flitting over the top of Floyd’s hair and down to his toes.

“I’m fine,” Floyd shrugged, stretching as he stood. Paused as he realized that saying ‘I’m fine’ was not an appropriate response, as Branch had told him so many times before. Practically drilled it into his head, at this point. He cut Branch off before his younger brother could say anything by shaking his head and letting out a loud “I meant- I meant that I’m feeling really good. I’m excited for the show, I slept plenty last night so I’m not tired, and I stretched this morning so I’m not achy like I usually am when I wake up.”

He could visibly see Branch’s tightly-wound demeanor relax, and the younger troll stood to join his brother as they headed out of the dressing room.

“Great. Now come on. They’re not too far away.”

And it was only when they made it into the break room, overstuffed couches laden with throw pillows and the ground practically made of mismatched rugs that Floyd realized all of his brothers had hair caps on. They’d happily yelled out his name when he walked in, and Branch had guided the troll over to a couch to sit down before nodding at JD, who’d been chuckling at the fact that Floyd was staring at them as if they all had grown second heads. 

“How ya feelin’, bro-bro? Ready for BroZone’s big debut into Pop Village?”

“Well, when you put it like that, admittedly nervous. But excited, all the same. I’ve missed singing with you all, truly.” He smiled up at his older brothers, who, upon hearing that, all exchanged a look. They nodded at each other, and Bruce took a deep breath while reaching up to the cap covering his hair.

“Well, buddy, we’ve got a bit of a pre-show gift for you,” he started.

“We know how much your hair means to you, and how hard the change has been on you,” Clay continued.

“So we wanted to do a little something just to remind you that you aren’t alone, with how you’re feeling. No matter how hard it may be at times,” Branch finished, and all four of them pulled off their hair caps after JD counted down from three.

And Floyd instantly burst into tears.

Streaking through each of their hair was bold white streaks, the color dyed at the roots of their hair and stretching up and up, just like Floyd’s. It looked natural- how did they do that? 

A million thoughts were running through his mind, but Floyd couldn’t grasp at a single one as the tears continued to pour down his face. He reached out to them, and his brothers were all surrounding him, hugging him tightly. 

“Surprise,” Branch sang softly, and Floyd grabbed onto his arm, squeezing it tightly as he hugged him. He was making his best attempt to hug everyone, which, seeing as it was four full-grown trolls was a bit hard- but the appreciative smile that was plastered onto his face like the sun piercing through a veil of thick clouds was hard to miss. He continued to cry into the hug, emotions overwhelming him as he went from sobs, to weeping that had the four of them pulling him down from the couch and to the ground and up into their arms. 

It took him a few minutes to pull himself together enough to wipe his eyes, but when he did, Floyd gave his brothers the most grateful look he could manage. He didn’t expect to see them crying, too, but it was clear that he’d affected them by crying so hard- and, the fact that they’d already been having a hard time keeping it together even before surprising him with the monumental change. Trolls didn’t just dye their hair- tinsel and extensions were normal in Pop Village but to physically change it like that? It was almost taboo.

“Man, I love you guys so much. I can’t believe you’d just… do that. For me. It means… it means so much.” His voice wavered as he broke down into tears again, but forced himself to reel it in as John Dory patted his back with a big grin.

“Believe it, bro. We’d go to the ends of the earth for you, this wasn’t nothin’ but a stone’s throw across the water if you ask me.”

“What’d I do to deserve such good brothers?” Floyd laughed tearfully, and Clay ruffled his hair gently. “Some would say you were born into this family. And that’s how you got such good brothers.”

The younger troll laughed, taking his brother’s hand and squeezing it tightly.

“Okay, that was a little cheesy,” Floyd chuckled. “But I gotta ask, who…”

“It was John Dory’s idea,” Bruce boasted proudly for the older troll, who’s ears turned bright red as he looked away.

“Dah, anything for my little brother,” he tried to play it off. But Floyd wasn’t having any of that. The younger troll dove into his older brother, pulling him into a hug. He was followed by his four other brothers, who practically dogpiled him and fell on top of each other. A stunned silence befell the brothers before they burst into laughter, and Floyd could feel a massive weight he didn’t even know that was sitting on his chest lift and dissipate. And he knew right then and there that no matter how down he was feeling about himself, how bad everything could get at times, he would always have his brothers to rely on. There were going to be much, much brighter days ahead.

“I love you guys. So much.” “We love you too, Floyd. Don’t you forget it.”

And he wouldn’t. He never would. 

[popatochisssp]

hiya poppy! i dunno if this is a silly ask but I’m a bit curious… do any of your unique boys have weird condiment obsessions or comfort foods?? tale sans has ketchup, swap paps has honey and so on, i assume that the rest of hoodie gang (what i loosely refer to the lazy brother role as) has the same weird habits. mostly curious about ash, brick, ell, nemo, sunny!

(Anon, I know you did not initially send this on anon, and you included an Art with it that I enjoyed very much, which is why I was so very upset to somehow lose this ask??? Luckily, tumblr cannot eat my emails so I still had the text saved and can at least answer the question, but if you wanted to re-add your art to this post, I would like that very much 😭)

I did do a favorite condiments/toppings post ages ago, when I only had ten of these losers, so it might be about time to update it!

Sans (Undertale): Yeah, it’s ketchup, he likes it on anything and everything, and he will drink it straight ‘cause he’s a terrible gremlin man. He started doing it as a joke to freak people out but it grew on him and, uh… well, now, he just likes it. This is his life and he has no shame.

Papyrus (Undertale): Nothing so uncouth as his brother, ugh! …But… on occasion…very rare occasion, mind you! He…has been known to sneak a spoonful of peanut butter straight out of the jar… Just the one, though, he never double-dips! He’s not disgusting!

Sky (Underswap Sans): As far as condiments go, he likes relish! He won’t eat it straight, if anyone’s looking, but who doesn’t like a hearty helping of it plopped onto a hot dog? Or a hot cat, he’s not picky! Spicy or sour is equally fine, just not the biggest fan of sweet.

Paps (Underswap Papyrus): Nothing new here, he likes honey a whole heck of a lot, though mostly just to sweeten his tea… or in a candy-bar, or drizzled on a pastry or something… Damn, he’s making himself hungry just thinking about it…

Jasper (Underfell Sans): Mustard, obviously, anything else on a ‘dog is the blatantly incorrect choice. Also pretty good on a sandwich, but you’re never gonna catch him guzzling it straight from the bottle. He never tried to pull that prank like his classic counterpart did, and never got accidentally hooked on his own condiment of choice. Ha!

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus): He’ll deny it to his dusting breath, but you cannot bring Nutella or any kind of chocolate spread into the house and expect it to still be there when you come back. He will eat it directly out of the jar, the whole thing, especially if he’s had a hard day or something. You’ll just never find the evidence. He’ll do it with ice cream, too, so y’know…keep an eye on your groceries.

Mal (Swapfell Sans): He likes spicy flavors so any kind of salsa or hot sauce is a favorite for him. His tolerance is damn good, so he can–and will–pull a Power Move and drink it straight if he feels the situation calls for it, but he generally just likes it on his food, like a normal person. Don’t test him, though, remember the freak that lies just beneath the surface…

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus): Can he pick literally everything sweet ever? No? Okay, then it’s probably maple syrup that he likes best, he’ll have it on waffles, in candy, or even to sweeten up some normally more savory foods like beans or ham or just about anything else you can think of. …Not that he, uh…really knows how to cook, himself… But he was a picky eater as a kid and syrup was easy to get in Snowdin, so it was usually used as a bribe to get him to eat A Thing He Didn’t Like and it’s a bit of a comfort-flavor for him now!

Slate (Horrortale Sans): For obvious reasons… he’s not picky. He’ll eat anything– burnt, flavorless, or even a little moldy, just drown it in ketchup and it’s good as gold. Like his classic counterpart, he’ll drink it straight, but surprisingly he’s also developed a bit of a fondness for mayo, mostly post-surfacing. It is not an unusual occurrence to find him just eating it straight, especially if he’s managed to get ahold of one of those squeeze-tubes that make it even easier. You might think he’s trying to pull a vanilla-pudding-in-the-mayo-jar prank but…alas, it’s real.

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus): He’s in the health field and knows in great detail why this is a thing he should probably not be doing but… You know those tubs of whipped topping…? Yeah, he’ll eat that with a spoon until the, “Oh My God, Why Am I Doing This” thoughts hit him and he shamefully puts it back. It would easily be one of the most mortifying moments of his life if you ever caught him at it, standing in front of the fridge in the dark at two in the morning like an oil-and-corn-syrup-loving cryptid.

Ash (Undergloom Sans): Worcestershire sauce is probably his top choice of condiment. His brother’s cooking has spoiled him a little bit, so plain old ketchup doesn’t quite cut it for him anymore. A lot of his favorite foods are hearty, heavy, meaty or all of the above, and Worcestershire can go on and in most of them! Now, will he drink it? No, probably not… but if there’s any on his plate that he can sop up with a bread roll and eat, he absolutely will be doing so.

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus): No one can know. Whenever he buys those little jars of maraschino cherries, it’s for garnishing drinks or desserts or whatever else he might need them for, and when he cleans out the jars to reuse them for other things, there’s no reason to wonder what he’s done with the juice, probably dumped it, right? Well…no. He drinks it, straight from the jar, like some kind of fucked up, bookish skeleton hummingbird. Don’t judge him!!!

Brick (Horrorfell Sans): Whether he acknowledges it or not, he’s living a bit more of the high life these days than he used to, and with that tends to come some upgrades in the little things around you. In his case, that means he still prefers mustard over any condiment, but it’s Dijon mustard specifically that he tends to reach for—a bit fancier, more of a bite to it, and now the plain yellow stuff feels like a downgrade. He’ll eat whatever, he’s not picky, but y’know…if given the option…

King (Horrorfell Papyrus): He has no such vices…that he’ll admit to. But neither will he back down or show even a hint of shame if you catch him squirting a bottle of chocolate syrup straight into his shaker full of milk that you may have previously assumed was a protein or workout shake of some kind. As for whether or not he’ll drink the syrup straight… You’ll never catch him. Don’t even try.

Merc (Horrorswap Sans): Probably sweet-and-sour sauce for him, there’s a lot of different things to use it on and he likes the versatility of that. To the point that he’d drink it? Yes, sure, boldly so, in front of anyone, admittedly mostly as a bit for the reaction but hey, it’s tangy and delicious, no regrets!

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus): His favorite topping to snack on is also a backfired prank. His brother is a baker and buys more new and unnecessary kinds of sprinkles than anyone could ever reasonably need, and he may’ve stolen a bottle or two to see how long it’d take him to notice. …And then maybe…grazed on them a little bit one time, when he was hungry and busy and didn’t want to get up. In his defense…they’re crunchy?

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans): He’s still all about the hot sauce, baby! Buffalo sauce in particular is probably the favorite, perfect for wings, but he’ll branch out if there are options—especially if they’re advertised as the hottest around, or put to him as a challenge. He’s a defiant thrill-seeker at heart, he all but has to drink it straight from the bottle if someone thinks so highly of it.

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus): He’s a caramel fiend. He pretty much always has been, in its candy form, but pretty much as soon as he started cooking for himself and realized how easy it was to just put a few things in a pan and have caramel sauce? It was over for him, he does it all the time now. It’s lucky if it actually makes it on top of anything because he’ll eat it by the spoonful almost straight out of the pan, but if he doesn’t, it’s still a perfectly good snack after it’s cooled a little. Not even store-bought jars last any longer in his house.

Sunny (Gastertale Sans): He loves a good steak sauce, obviously for steaks but on pretty much anything—burgers, sandwiches, jazzing up some veggies, what can’t it do? He’s not quite at the level of drinking it straight from the bottle, but it can seem close some days when he’s really slathering it on.

Aster (Gastertale Papyrus): Definitely some kind of weakness for tahini. It makes such a good dip, or spread, or partner with jam on toast to make a not-quite-pb&j, so even though he doesn’t usually find it on a menu, he tends to keep some around the house. Would he eat it all by itself? Has he? Well, what’s the fun in just telling? He has some kind of mystique to maintain, you know…

Spectr (Transcendtale Sans): Ketchup is super nostalgic for him, a very comforting flavor. He’ll totally drink it straight or eat it out of a packet just for the taste of it, even if he doesn’t have the hunger to actually eat it with something. He’s also gotten a bit more adventurous, though, and is a lot more open to trying different varieties of ketchup, and those trendy combos with other things—spicy ketchup, mayochup, thousand island—if it’s available, he’ll try it, and he’s slowly amassing a personal catalogue of favorites tried all across the globe.

PapAIrus (Transcendtale Papyrus): He doesn’t eat. He doesn’t need to and he’s not actually capable of it, so… It’s fine, he really doesn’t miss it or think about it much. …But whenever he gets around to having that back-up body made, probably the first thing he’d eat with it is a big jar of peanut butter, the crunchy kind.

Xanth (Ascendswap Sans): Having almost completely done away with any sense of shame and a large amount of awareness of social norms, he is no longer shy of straight-up eating relish. He is also not shy of going for maximum sour, vinegary flavor and will fully sip pickle juice out of the jar. He is living his truth and we are all so proud.

Piper (Ascendswap Papyrus): Did I call somebody else a hummingbird? I should’ve saved it for him, he’s graduated from honey to something a bit more concentrated—agave syrup. He follows the trends a little more attentively these days, gave it a try when he heard about it as a honey-substitute, and that was…kind of it. His sweet tooth is his weakness, and he doesn’t even mind paying a little more for the ethically sourced brands, he’s too hooked on that super-sweet sweetness for his tea and candy and pastries and whatever else he can find to drizzle it on.

Carmine (Underfell Fruition Sans): He’s a cool ranch guy, all the way. As a dip, it’s the perfect accompaniment to anything crunchy and he’ll freely load up his carrots and celery and chips with it. As a proper condiment, it’ll go on anything from pizza to burgs, and while he’s definitely taken a swig once, just to try it, he probably likes it better as supporting cast than the lead act.

Tank (Underfell Fruition Papyrus): He was ruined the first time a jar of marshmallow fluff came into his possession. He didn’t get much in the way of sweets growing up, so pure, soft, sticky sugar…? He has no defense against it. He’ll actually need to be told you can make things with it if you want to, because eating it with a spoon is all he knows and that’ll be a beautiful brave new world for him.

Vi (Swapfell Fruition Sans): He’s a barbecue sauce fan. His preference is for the smoky or spicy kind, but even the sweeter stuff has its charm and he hasn’t really eaten a kind he hasn’t somewhat liked. He won’t take a swig from a bottle, but if he ever comes across a brand he really likes, he may go out of his way to buy some to take home, and that's a huge compliment from him.

Hunter (Swapfell Fruition Papryus): Butterscotch is his thing, actually. He likes it as a topping in sauces and cocktails quite a bit, but if there happen to be any butterscotch chips around, that’s more to his preference. Be wary trying to get any baking with them done around him, he actually prefers them outside of the baked goods and he’s not above petty theft. In fact, he’s below it, far below it, a little quick yoinkery is the least of what he’ll do to get something he wants.

Kohl (Descendtale Sans): He’s a soy sauce kind of guy. It’s salty, savory, and strong, a little goes a long way even to overpower a flavor you’re sick of, but you have to eat because it’s nearly all there is… Yeah, he got a little hooked on it when monsters started eating the echo flower root, and it stuck around as a new favorite after. Would he drink it? Not unless it would be really funny, he has limited room in the tank these days and would prefer to use it for food he likes, not on a bit.

Bram (Descendtale Papyrus):  Nothing beats a nice crème anglaise drizzled over something sweet… Of course, he’s not much of a cook so mostly he just waits for vanilla ice cream to melt and that’s basically the same thing, right? Ice cream soup is delicious and also a perfectly valid topping for all manner of deliciousness, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it!

And as for comfort foods…well that’s a whole other post to update! ;)

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Nova Genesis

Part One

Summary: tensions rise as strangers board the ship and turn Dibs' entire operation on its head to obtain critical evidence. But not everyone feels the same at the prospect of returning to Earth | Word Count: 4.5k~ | Warnings: mentions of Ettore's crimes, swearing, mentions of violence, threatening behaviour, masturbation (m)

A/N: A birthday present for @dreamymoomin @in-a-mountain-pool, my fellow Ettore fucker (affectionate 😘). Have a very happy birthday <3

For the last several days, Dibs was irritable. There was something she wasn't telling them, and none of them had the interest nor the energy to ask. But something had spooked her, and that was never good. She stopped the weekly examinations for the females, and started destroying the samples from the males. Both of which were things she previously cherished as part of her twisted experiment for a child.

The rest simply followed their daily routine as usual, just without the lingering, judgemental glances from Dibs, replaced with a sense of unease and confusion when she’d shut herself in her office for days on end. It was a good and happy coincidence that at least without her help, they knew how to look after themselves. 

Loud alarms startled their otherwise quiet lunch. Some didn’t move an inch and others merely looked around, eyes wide with fear, not knowing what to do with themselves. And the second they felt the ship quite literally jolt, as if something had docked against them, Ettore had a sense of where the situation was headed. No more than fifteen minutes later, the doors where they had boarded the ship, opened once again, revealing quite shockingly a band of official looking people.

Several armed guards stood like pillars beside the army of lawyers and technicians, prepared to both shut down the operation and steer the spacecraft back towards Earth. They held their weapons casually, their gazes insistent that violence would occur should the team be threatened in any way.

“If you all know what's good for you, you'll let them do their work. And you'll all get to go home.”

Ettore watched with a stoic expression, as if uncaring and neutral at the idea of returning. He highly doubted that everyone shared the same opinion about the prospect of returning to Earth, to their prisons, where they all knew too well. 

His eyes watched with a deep interest as the team split off to start their investigation around the prisoners, starting with downloading the encrypted files Dibs had attempted to hide. Each one potential evidence for the twisted doctor's misconduct.

He watches one of the lawyers particularly closely, unable to admit to himself exactly why he finds her interesting to look at. They all wear casual clothes, something he has not seen since leaving Earth in the first place, and now something that seems so undeniably foreign and alien.

Her lanyard displayed both her name and her title. Legal Representation.

She started by organising individual meetings with the prisoners, for them to air their grievances, with evidence of course. Documenting each one regarding their treatment, health and level of punishment. Some were forthcoming and some, predictably, were not. And could she blame them? For so many months, years even, distrust was just another fact of life up here. 

Dibs watched with frustration her life work being dismantled and dissected. At first her attempts at justification were met with cold looks and shakes of their head from the legal team, eventually turning into silence. They were there not to debate ethics but to enforce the law and protect the rights of those who had been under her control.

The little lawyer, Ettore so affectionately named her in his head, was diligent about her work. And when he spotted her next, she was deep into downloading onto an external hard drive the encrypted data on Dibs' computer in the infirmary. He couldn’t deny, it was strange to have other people wandering the ship. The otherwise wide and meandering hallways now felt cramped, with barely two people able to stand side by side while letting another pass. It felt suffocating. And he knew it was only a matter of time before someone snapped. 

His jaw clenched as he watched her from the doorway, attempting to make sense of the software Dibs' had so often fiddled with to make it near impossible to infiltrate. And he wondered with a sense of defensiveness and perhaps immaturity, or naivety, that this woman was pushing change, and he wasn't sure if he liked that.

She let out a pleased sound when she cracked the last layer of security, and Ettore laughed through his nose.

“Suppose she didn't account for someone like you, hm,” he mused dispassionately and somewhat uninterested. A flash of irritation gnawed at him when she didn't look up from her work to address him.

“‘Dr Dibs’ didn't account for a lot of things,” she started, her tone neutral, “nevermind taking accountability.”

His eyes darkened, roving over her form behind. She was easily smaller. If he really really wanted, she wouldn't be able to fight. But did he want her to?

She finally paused and swivelled on her chair to face him, her expression insistent, making his darkened thoughts pause for just a moment.

"You don’t seem too thrilled about the prospect of going back to Earth. Most would be eager to leave this place.”

It wasn't a question, but he could smell that she wanted an answer. And normally, he would have entertained her. But her expression, coupled with her expectancy for him to bend, made him huff and turn away.

“Content with staying here and giving Dibs sperm samples for the rest of your life? Not that I think that's the part you dislike.”

She mumbles that last part under her breath, turning back to the computer to check its download progress. And while her back is turned, something is stoked in his eyes. That was an incredibly dangerous thing for her to say. Especially to him. To someone like him.

He shoves his hands in his scrub pockets, mostly to touch himself.

“And what is there to go back to?” He inquires, watching with interest when she turns back to him halfway. He raises his eyebrows, tone somewhat mocking, “something about the devil you know.”

She gives a breathy laugh, “suppose it's comfort in its own way. Wouldn't you rather live than just survive?”

He narrows his gaze, stubbornness enhancing his disbelief.

“You really believe that it's just step off this ship and poof, everything's fine?”

“I didn't say that.”

“Why would I want to go back to a world that forgot me the second they sent me up here?”

She sighs. “It'll be what you want it to be, if you keep thinking like that.”

He has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. These lawyer human rights fucking types will always cling to some kind of hope, however naive. It was a word long flung out of Ettore’s vocabulary, not that he was usually the hopeful type. She sighed through her nose at his lack of response and turned back around, typing quickly and practised on the keyboard. Her messy, plaited hair fell down her back, and for a brief, fleeting moment, he thought of what it would have been like to grab the end, and twist it over his fist he’d be strong enough to subdue her, that was for sure. Even thinking about it, he ran his tongue over his teeth.

He wondered if she knew what he was here for. Did she know the ins and outs of what the jury said about him? Or what the judge condemned him to? Or was he just another tick box on her list, just another name? Did she either understand the man he was now, or what he was capable of? It both thrilled and unsettled him in equal measure. He watched her slender fingers move across the keyboard, thinking, how would she react when she knew how dangerous he really was. 

Would she still carry that same determination, or would fear finally colour those idealistic eyes?

He smirked slightly, thinking that he had met many women like her that used her indifference as armour over her, shielding her from the darker truths of the world, or perhaps, just the darker truths of his world.

“You’ve read my file, haven’t you.”

His voice was low, almost a growl, daring her to acknowledge the monster many believed him to be. She paused, her fingers halting mid-type, and her lips parted. For a moment he thought she might turn around again, but she wet her lips and continued typing.

There was a firmness in her voice that surprised Ettore. “I've read your file, yes. I know what you've done.”

“And?”

“I’m not giving a glowing review on your crimes.”

He gave a huff of a laugh. “No need to get antsy, sweetheart.”

She turned her head, her face calm with an expression that belied any fear in him. “My job isn’t to judge, it's to defend human rights, yours included.”

Ettore's smirk widened, his eyes narrowing as he processed her words. "That's a neat way to put it. Defending human rights, even for someone like me? Must make you feel pretty good, huh?"

Her expression remained unchanged, her resolve as firm as ever. "You think I do this for my health?"

Before Ettore could respond, the sudden clang and shout from the other end of the corridor cut through their conversation. Both turned toward the noise. A group of guards hustled past, their faces tense, moving toward the source of the disturbance.

Ettore's attention briefly flickered to the commotion, then back to her, a victorious smirk on his face. "Looks like not everyone's as cooperative as I am."

She cocked her head, “and you’re being cooperative are you?” she asked firmly, with a harsh rhetorical edge. “Anyway, it’s not about that. It’s about your safety as a whole-”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that carried an unmistakable edge. "And what if I wasn't safe? What if I was the one out there causing trouble? Would you defend me then?"

She met his gaze, unflinching. "I defend the rights of all prisoners, no matter their crimes."

"Theoretically, right?" Ettore pushed back, amused.

"Practically."

Their intense exchange was suddenly interrupted by the return of the guards, escorting a handcuffed prisoner between them. The man was shouting, struggling against the restraints, his eyes wild with desperation.

"Fucking assholes! You're all just dressing it up as justice!" he yelled as he was dragged past them.

Ettore watched the scene unfold, his expression unreadable. Once the noise had died down, he turned back to her, his voice low. "Not everyone believes in your justice. Being out here…it changes people, makes them into monsters."

“I don’t believe that.”

Ettore's smirk faded, replaced by a contemplative frown. "Maybe you should. The monsters are real. And sometimes, they're closer than you think."

His words lingered in the air, thick with an ominous undertone, he turned and walked away, his steps deliberate and heavy against the metallic floor. She watched him go, his broad silhouette gradually merging with the shadows of the spacecraft's corridor. It was only when he disappeared from view that she realised she'd been holding her breath, her chest tight with apprehension.

She exhaled slowly, trying to dispel the tension that had coiled inside her during their conversation. The exchange had revealed layers to Ettore she hadn't fully appreciated before, depths of cynicism and a hint of something darker, perhaps a warning or a challenge. His parting words echoed in her mind, a reminder of the complex human narratives woven into the fabric of this mission.

Her eyes lingered on the corner where Ettore had vanished, the unsettling feeling of his presence still palpable in the air. She was left with a profound sense of the weight of her task, not just to administer legal justice but to understand and navigate the human elements at play. The reality of Ettore's warning, that the monsters might indeed be closer than she thought, settled heavy on her shoulders as she turned back to her work.

The mission to dismantle Dr. Dibs' operation continued, but a quieter but equally dangerous plan was brewing among a faction of the prisoners. These were men and women who, for various reasons, fears of retribution on Earth, lost ties, or simply the terror of facing their past crimes, had decided they were better off lost in space. They saw the arrival of she and her team not as a rescue but as a threat to the precarious stability they had found, or rather forged.

Ettore, caught between his newfound interest with his little lawyer and his inherent distrust of returning to a world that had discarded him, found himself pulled into this group’s orbit. Monte led the group, not particularly charismatic but he was seen as trustworthy, had quickly identified Ettore’s influence among the prisoners and sought to leverage it, despite their dislike for each other. There was something in Monte that was also as antsy as Dibs, as if he feared returning to Earth not because of the consequences, but because it meant confronting ghosts he had long buried.

With them, huddled in secret within the confines of the storage room, Mink leaned, arms crossed, as if she were still on the fence and could be persuaded. 

“This ain’t redemption,” Monte started, his eyes firm, “up here we’re forgotten, nothing but fuckin’ dust. Back there, we're monsters on display.”

Ettore scoffed lightly, “and what? Hijack the ship? You think that ends well for any of us?”

“You know Dibs wants ‘em gone too.”

“We’re not killing them,” Mink interjected.

Monte glared at Mink, his frustration evident. "You think I don’t know we can’t kill them? We take control, redirect the course. We can find a place out here where they can't just drag us back to face whatever hell they've cooked up for us on Earth."

“So they’re hostages,” Ettore added bluntly. “They’re not like us. They'll come looking for them."

Monte nodded, his voice steady. "Then we make it too costly to come after us. We send a message back, make it clear we’re not their lab rats anymore, not their spectacle."

Mink shifted uncomfortably, her arms still crossed, her gaze flickering between Monte and Ettore. "Okay, stop measuring dicks for one second. We're talking about potentially starting a war here. What if they send the military after us? We're equipped to handle guards, maybe, but not a fucking assault."

The two men beside her fell quiet, and Ettore glanced down the hallway as if to check they nobody was listening in.

Mink filled the silence, her decision torn in two different directions, “And what about the others? The ones who might want to go back?"

Ettore rolled his eyes slightly. "Sometimes you gotta make the hard choices for people. Look at where trusting Earth got us in the first place." 

His point didn’t at all mean to sound like he was supporting Monte, so he hated the little nod of agreement he gave. The way his eyes lit up.

But Monte caught it, misinterpreting Ettore’s reluctant agreement as support, his own resolve hardening. "We were discarded, forgotten. If we don't take a stand now, when will we ever?" he speaks erratically, as if even now pleading his case, “I killed a man. His family won’t rest until I’m buried. Talking won’t change that.”

Mink and Ettore remained silent. But their expressions could not be any more different.

“It won’t change it for you two either,” Monte added with venom, “You think any of us got a fair shot down there? You really trust this lawyer, these people, to make it right? Open your fucking eyes. She's here to make herself feel better, not to save anyone."

Ettore, who had been following the exchange silently, felt a surge of concern. His thoughts briefly flashed to his little lawyer, her conviction that the law could serve justice, her determination to fight for their rights. It contrasted starkly with the raw survival instinct that drove Monte.

“So that’s it then,” Ettore mused, “you want violence.”

Monte turned on Ettore, his gaze fierce. "If it’s violence they understand, it’s violence they’ll get."

Ettore met Monte’s fiery gaze with a steely resolve of his own. The tight confines of the storage room seemed to shrink further, suffocating under the weight of impending decisions. Decisions that could very well define the fate of everyone on board.

“You want to lead us into a war we can’t win,” he countered, “you’re gonna fuck all this up, and for what?”

Monte's breathing was heavy, his chest heaving with each breath, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. He looked as if he wanted to say more, to argue that his plan was their only chance, but the fight seemed to drain from him second by agonising second. 

“Fine. We’ll see what your lawyer can do. But if it doesn’t work, if they don’t listen...” His voice trailed off, leaving the threat hanging, an unspoken ultimatum that they all understood.

After a week of tireless work aboard the spacecraft, tension simmered under a deceptive calm. She and her team had catalogued countless files and dismantled numerous experiments, yet they were still not close to gathering all the evidence they needed before the planned return to Earth. The ship was suspended in the vast silence of space, a temporary lull in their journey both literally and metaphorically.

Ettore leaned against the doorway, the threshold between their ship and the prisoner's felt so inescapable. The distance between their daily lives aboard the ship was not lost on him, and a cynical remark bubbled to the surface, and he couldn't help but run his eyes over her as she made her way past him to go to her own quarters.

With a sardonic twist to his lips, he approached her, his voice carrying just enough edge to be provocative. "You look tired, sweetheart. Must be tough, being so close yet so far from all the answers you need.”

She merely glared at him sideways, and despite her composed exterior, there was a fatigue in her eyes that spoke volumes about the strain they were all under.

“It's part of the job. And Dibs hasn't exactly made it easy.”

Ettore chuckled softly, the sound more mocking than amused. "Sure, but at the end of the day, you get to retreat to your safe corner of the ship, away from all of us. Sleep better thinking you’re not surrounded by monsters?”

Her face remained impassive, but her eyes hardened slightly, a hint of steel beneath the surface.

He huffs. “Maybe one night you should try sleeping over here, see how dangerous we really are. Maybe then you’d get all your evidence faster.”

There was a moment of silent acknowledgment between them. It was a threat. One meant to hit deep. If she was smart, she'd see the larger threat beneath it.

"Just remember, justice feels different depending on which side of the ship you sleep on.”

She cocked her head at him, but not in question, her eyes remained steadfast and firm. It was as if she merely wanted to see a different angle of him.

“Maybe it’s less about where I sleep,” she muses, “maybe it’s understanding the lay of the land, hm? Knowing where the landmines are buried.”

Ettore’s expression shifted only barely, whether she caught it or not, he couldn’t tell. She had obviously been interviewing all the prisoners. And if he had to guess about who was likely to blab about this plan Monte had cooking, it was most likely Boyse. They’d notoriously disliked each other.

But a subtle smirk rose to his lips. She was trying to prod him, thinking he was the leader in all of this. Where she could not be more wrong.

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, sweetheart.”

Her jaw tightened at that. And his warning was cryptic enough and yet clear enough to read the hidden meaning beneath. There were dangers lurking within the ranks. Uprisings. That not only jeopardises the mission, but their lives as well. She felt her heart thud hard in her chest, feeling right now more than ever, that she did not belong here.

With a thick swallow, she sighed, trying to appear calm, “I appreciate your concern for our safety.”

Ettore gave a half-smirk, recognising her diplomatic reply. And though he was tempted to say more, to see how she’d squirm, he pushed off the wall and turned his back to her. He recognised he had shared too much with her, a crucial piece of information, but something that also revealed a concealed trust for her. 

When he turned back to glance at her, he felt a smug pride in his chest, she was still watching him. And her eyes flickered upwards when she felt she had been caught. And the little lawyer scurried away back to her haven, with not another word.

She returned to her quarters, the sound of the door sealing behind her echoing slightly in the compact, utilitarian space that served as her temporary sanctuary. She slipped out of her shoes, feeling the cool metal floor beneath her feet, a small comfort after another long day of navigating the tight corridors and tighter tensions of the spacecraft.

After a long and decompressing shower, she moved to her small desk, where she activated her datapad, to record her nightly entries for the team back on Earth, to update them on the progress.

Day 23.

Looking at herself on the screen, her hair wet over her shoulders, she felt she looked tired and more weary, compared to when she first arrived. And wondered briefly how the prisoners had not yet gone mad. 

“The evidence we need to solidify the case against Dr Dibs is…extensive and…elusive. She’s trying to hide things, which doesn’t help, behind walls of useless other data she thinks we’ll miss. The crew’s morale fluctuates, as expected. They are under immense stress, given that the cooperation of some of the prisoners has been divisive at best.  Boyse’s interviews are particularly interesting. She’s afraid of going back to Earth, seeing as there is little support for her. But she seems rather excited to see Dibs see justice for the horrendous things she's done to them. She made me aware of a former prisoner, Elektra, who died shortly after childbirth due to lack of proper care. The baby... also did not make it. Boyse has made it very clear that the experiments and examinations on the women have both become more frequent and more desperate after this incident. Mink tells a similar story, albeit with some details redacted. Unfortunately, Dibs disposed of the bodies shortly after their deaths, so they won’t be recoverable.  They both heavily dislike most of the men on board, with the exception of Tcherny. He seems keen on returning to Earth. Mostly because he has nobody there to judge him anymore. Monte…has refused interviews. And too refuses interaction with any of us. Ettore. Well, he was cryptic today, as usual. I believe he is the type of person to lure people in just to watch them try and escape him.”

She paused, with a heavy sigh, running her hand through her hair. Stress gnawed at her temples. And something else tugged at her gut. Something she could not mistake as sickness.

“He refuses to say anything outright. But we must tread carefully. It’s clear some, if not most, of the prisoners do not wish to return, fearing retribution and violence, or whoever awaits them who will not share in our opinions of them. I can’t help but…wonder why we are here.”

She couldn’t concentrate after that. Her thoughts involuntarily drifted to Ettore. There was something undeniably compelling, beyond the complexities of his personality. Her racing thoughts could not keep up with her mouth, it felt.

“He’s an enigma. He has strong features but…manages to control them under a mask. And yet, there’s an intensity in his eyes that’s so piercing. The way he looks at me sometimes…it’s unsettling. And yet I can’t find it in myself to look away. And his voice, even when he whispers it’s…”

“The monsters are real. And sometimes, they're closer than you think."

She swallows, her fingers resting on her throat as if to feel her own pulse.

“It carries a weight, one that commands attention. Like a threat but also…like he’s testing me, measuring my reactions…”

“Maybe one night you should try sleeping over here, see how dangerous we really are.”

“...like a predator.”

She paused, clarity rushing back to her like a wave, pulling her under and robbing her of breath. With a quick flick, she turned off the video, taking a moment to really consider her words and her runaway thoughts. Why was she focusing so much on his physical details? She argued perhaps that it was the amount of time she’d spent with all of them. But she shook her head slightly, trying to steer her thoughts back to reality.

After a moment of pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes, the stress and internal conflict caused her to hastily climb into bed, hoping perhaps that the sweet escape of sleep might rid her of these thoughts. As she lay back in her bed, staring up at the ceiling of her quarters, the ship's constant hum a soft backdrop, she couldn't help but replay their interactions. There was an undeniable tension there, something that went beyond the usual professional dynamic. Was it just the stress of the mission making her over analyse, or was there something more, something real and tangible in the way he moved and spoke that kept drawing her thoughts back to him?

Ettore too, lay awake, lost in turbulent emotions. His mind replaying his interactions with her, each moment etched into his memory. The way her eyes narrowed in concentration, the subtle shift in her posture when he spoke of their harsh conditions on the ship before their arrival, and particularly, the flickers of fear when he would tread into dangerous territory with his words alone. Not even having to be near her. He was captivated by those expressions, those nuances, and the challenges they presented. 

In the quiet solitude of his cell, Nansen asleep in the top bunk, he allowed his hand to slide beneath his scrubs, eyes slipping shut as his hand lazily stroked his length to full hardness in no time at all. He indulged in the image of her. Her intelligent, alert eyes seemed to follow each word he said. Always evaluating.  Evaluating him.

And fuck, did it feel good to be picked apart by her. 

He returned to the same recurring thought he’d had every night, that if he pushed her boundaries, how would she react when truly tested? He wanted to see her rough, unguarded. Would she shrink or rise to the challenge? The mere thought of breaking through those defenses to a place where she might react out of sheer instinct, rather than reason, was intoxicating. 

With a stuttered moan, and coming hard into his hand with a jerk of his hips, the challenge was set, and Ettore was eager to see it through, to discover just how deep the layers of his little lawyer went.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blackswxnn @buckybarnesb-tch

@castellomargot @emmaisafictionwhore @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust

@mochi-rose @nenelysian

@qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @theoneeyedprince

[lovelettersforthedamned]

Please please please smut 1 and 12 with Frank Castle!

Mission Accomplished

--genre: fluff & SMUT.

--pairing: frank castle x f!reader

--word count: 2.7k

--warnings: kissing, mentions of violence, mentions of alcohol, oral (f receiving), PinV, unprotected sex (NOO), creampie, so much sexual tension, fluff, friends to lovers, semi-public sex.

thank you for the request! enjoy<3

--gif credits: @bernthalized

You’ve been known to draw people in. Whether that be because of your personality, or something magical about you, people were always attracted to you, both romantically and platonically. 

Frank was hard to crack, but still, he quickly became someone you considered to be one of your close friends. You’ve seen him an inch away from death’s grasp, and even with his consistent rejections of help, he finally let you in. You became someone he could rely on, often with his injuries. 

At first, there was little to no talking while you patched him up. The occasional grunts and groans came from him while you asked him if he wanted water every so often. As the late nights continued, Frank began to talk. Sure, one-word responses weren’t much, but it was something. And as much as Frank wanted to deny it, he quickly realized why people were drawn to you. 

Your friendship remained very exclusive for a while, only seeing each other when Frank was injured or for emergencies, but that became hard when you started to see him in a different light. For as long as you wanted to keep it buried, your feelings for Frank grew with each time you saw him. You had to push your feelings aside, for him. 

***

The exhaustion of the day was evident, it was written all over your face. Locking the door behind you, you immediately kick off your shoes, set your things down on the counter, and sink into the couch; not bothering to turn on the lights. Maybe if you weren’t so tired you were able to notice Frank’s presence behind you, “Hey.”

Your once lounged state was now replaced by an alert one, sitting up straight you whipped your head around to find Frank standing behind the couch, looking directly at you. Walking towards the light switches, you catch your breath before speaking, “I know you’re not a big fan of your phone, but Jesus Christ Frank. Could you not just lurk in the shadows next time you decide to surprise me?” 

With the light on you scan over his broad frame, scanning for any injuries. He walks towards you, the look on his face not the stoic one you’re used to seeing, “I know, I know, but I need to ask you to do something for me. It’s gonna be dangerous, and it’s gonna be risky, but you know I trust you with this type of stuff.”

“Frank, just tell me,” you cross your arms, the suspense killing you. 

He sighs, “I’m going to a big tech gala tomorrow to retrieve some information on a ghost, and I need a plus one. Figured I thought it would be less suspicious if I brought you instead of going by myself.” 

And after discussing the fine details, you agreed. Frank was surprised that you even considered, let alone say yes, but he knew you would do anything for your friends, even putting yourself in potential danger.

***

Slipping on your heels, you hear a knock at the door. Walking over and opening the door you see Frank in a clean black suit, you can’t help but scan your eyes up and down his figure. Little did you know, Frank was doing the same thing to you. While you were still speechless, Frank snapped out of his trance, feeling slightly guilty, he asked, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” clearing your throat, “let’s go!”

The car ride was mostly silent, you weren’t nervous until right now, and Frank could tell. Your hands were fidgeting with the fabric of your dress when he reached down to hold one and give it a tight squeeze. Looking up at him, he responds, “I’m gonna make sure nothing will happen to you tonight, I promise you.” 

You squeeze his hand back and nod, taking a deep breath. 

It didn’t take long until you drove right up to the gala’s steps, still holding onto Frank’s hand, and only letting go to step out of the car. As Frank handed the keys to the valet, your body was immediately searching for him again. The simple touch in the car made you yearn for more. In an instant he was at your side again, extending his arm to hold as you walked towards the front door. 

You knew he was only doing this for show, but some of you hoped it was real. 

As the front doors opened, you were greeted by a prestigious sight. The walls were lined with the company’s accomplishments while the guests were mingling either on the dance floor or at the tables with drinks in hand. No one pays the two of you any mind as you make your way to the party, everyone is either too dialed into conversation, or drunk to notice. 

As servers walk around with trays of champagne, Frank swiftly grabs two and hands one to you. Your eyes crinkle in confusion, “Aren’t we supposed to be working?” 

Frank takes a sip, savoring the taste, “I’m supposed to be working. Don’t worry, it’ll help your nerves, sweetheart.”

Bringing up the flute to your lips, you try to hide the obvious flustered look on your face, your cheeks suddenly warm. Sweetheart. 

After finishing his drink, he turns to you, “I’m gonna go look around. I’ll be right back.”

You nod your head, and suddenly the worry is back. This wasn’t some silly fantasy, you were here because of Frank and whatever information he needed. This was all a front, whatever was going on between you and him isn’t real.  

You must have zoned out while Frank was gone because he was back in what felt like a few minutes, “Did you find what you were looking for?” 

Frank doesn’t respond, only shakes his head once. Whatever happened while he was away was clearly not in his favor, and even you could tell. Placing your glass on a table near you, you grab his hand, your touch causing him to flinch away for a moment before he allows you in. You look back up at him, “Let’s dance.”

It takes him a second before he agrees, the silence making you anxious, but soon enough he follows. The music is slow, and couples around you sway back and forth in a delicate rhythm. Frank comfortably places both hands on your hips as you place yours on the back of his neck, the sudden closeness making your head spin. 

You apparently don’t hide your emotions well as Frank speaks softly into your ear, “What are you thinking about?”

There he goes with that nickname again, and maybe it’s the champagne, but you have some strong feelings that need to escape, “I’m just thinking about how every time you call me ‘sweetheart’, I can’t help but think about it for a while.”

“Oh really? What happens when you think about it?” You hide your face into his chest, too embarrassed to answer. “You’ve never been shy, don’t start now.”

Pulling away, you look up at him through hooded eyes, “I can’t tell you in public Frank, it’s too crowded in here.”

“Then let’s go somewhere private. Keeping thoughts inside your head is bad for you, you know.”

Frank leads you off the dancefloor quickly and to a hallway near the entrance, the people around looking at the two of you confused. You giggle as he continues to walk towards a door. Opening the door for you, Frank has led you into an office of some sort. A grand desk was placed in the middle of the room, surrounded by bookshelves, and of course a chair. You’re still looking around the room when Frank’s voice echoes through the space, “So, what were you going to tell me, sweetheart?”

You’re tired of his teasing, walking up to him by the door, you smash your lips onto his, quietly locking the door behind him. His hands, once again, find his way to you, but this time to the supple flesh of your ass. 

Walking forward, Frank guides you back until your legs hit the wood of the desk, causing you to sit. And then all of a sudden, you realize what you’re doing. You pull away from his lips, “Frank…what are we doing? You–You’re my friend, fuck what am I doing?”

“Hey, shh–,”

You cut him off, “Friends don’t do this kind of shit, Frank!”

You’re still sitting on the desk when his hand comes up to hold your face, “You’ll always be my friend, always. But you’ll always be something else, and it’s not just a friend.”

There’s nothing but relief in your body when he leans back down to kiss you again, a weight feels like it’s been lifted off your shoulders. You grasp the back of his neck, pulling him in to deepen your kiss. 

Taking his other hand, he reaches down to your dress, bunching the fabric in his hands as he reveals more and more of your skin. As soon as he reveals your thigh, he releases the fabric to pool just above your knee. You whine into his mouth, disappointment, craving his touch once again. 

He releases your lips, not fully pulling away. He hovers over you, before he mutters, “Nuh-uh, you’re gonna be patient, or I’ll make you wait till we get back to your place. Yeah?”

You nod, slightly lifting your head higher in an attempt to kiss him, your eyes locked onto his lips. He lifts his head higher this time, “I need you to say it, baby. Say you got it.”

You finally look into his eyes before speaking, “I got it.”

In an instant, he kneels to the floor, gliding his hand along your thigh, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. You knew exactly where he was going as you spread your legs for him, giving him easier access to where you really needed his touch. As soon as he is met with the delicate material of your panties, he groans, the fabric soaking wet. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You giggle in response, another groan leaving his lips. It seems like his patience was testing him too as he wastes no time pulling your panties to the side to rub his fingers up and down your slit. The sudden stimulation makes you throw your head back in pleasure. 

After a few swipes back and forth, he kisses your thigh, causing you to look down at him, “You’re so wet for me, fuck…you think you’re ready for me?”

You’re breathless as you respond, “Yes! Yes, I’m ready. Please.”

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he marvels, “but, I think you can be wetter than this, baby.”

You’re about to object when he pulls your dress up higher until you’re fully exposed. “I can make you wetter,” he hooks his fingers around your panties, pulling them down, “will you let me make you wetter?”

“Frank, please–please.”

Frank lifts your legs to rest on his shoulders, causing you to lean back on your elbows as he wraps his arms around your thighs. The cold air fluttering over your core sends a shiver down your back, but Frank’s mouth quickly remedies the cooling sensation, causing you to gasp. 

His tongue quickly found its way to your clit, giving it a few delicate licks before he sucks on it. You can’t help but reach down to his hair, tugging and pulling on the dark strands. And suddenly your head was spinning, and the feeling of his mouth on you started to feel too good, “I’m gonna cum…oh god.”

With the sound of your whines, he pulls away, causing you to look at him with confused and slightly angry eyes. He rises from his knees and starts to undo his dress pants, pulling at the belt with one hand, “What did I say about being patient?” 

Sighing for what felt like the millionth time tonight, you don’t object, not wanting to prolong this feeling of being on the edge. 

Once Frank was finished with his belt, he unbuttons his pants, pulls down his zipper, and wastes no time pulling everything off, revealing his cock. Holy shit. He was hard, and there was no doubt he was thick. You look at his cock for a while before you look back at him in disbelief, “Now I know why you needed me wetter…Jesus, Frank.”

He chuckles, “You gonna keep looking at my cock, or are you gonna let me fuck you with it, (Y/N)?”

His choice of words shock you into silence, only three words escaping your lips, “Fuck me, please.”

You pull your legs into your chest, giving Frank easier access. Rubbing his tip up and down your folds, he groans before pushing into you. He’s slow with his movements, easing you into the new feeling. You both let out a collective breathy sigh when he bottoms out, the stretch making your walls pulse. And of course, Frank feels it all, “You’re fucking swallowing me, taking me so well–-shit.” 

You can’t bear to hold yourself up anymore, opting to lay on the desk when he starts to pump faster. Frank is hitting that sweet spot in you, and you cannot get enough of it. Delicate moans are heard from you, but they quickly build up until the sound of your pleasure reverberates off the office walls. 

Softly placing a hand over your mouth, he mutters, “Shh, there are people in the other room, and they can probably hear every single sound coming out of your pretty mouth.” You’re too far gone in pleasure to care, or to quip back a witty response. You just lay there and take his cock, and he’s hitting all the right spots. Frank can feel you tense around him. He knows exactly how you’re feeling. “I know you’re gonna cum,” he releases the hold on your mouth to pull down the fabric covering your breasts, giving your hard nipples a pinch, “do it for me. Let everyone out there know how good I’m making you feel.”

You cum, and you cum hard, for him. Your senses are flooded by ecstasy, the feeling making you shake. You can feel Frank still pumping into you as you cum, helping you ride it out. In your hazy state, you are suddenly aware of Frank’s grip on your hips when you look up at him. He’s so close. With your core still fluttering around him from your orgasm, it doesn’t take long for him to pump you full of his load. The feeling of him painting your walls makes you moan again. 

Frank takes a breath before he pulls out of you, looking at the mixture of both your arousal spilling out of your swollen pussy. You’re adjusting your dress when he looks back up at you, taking a mental picture of your current state when he pulls his pants back up. He sees you wince as you slowly sit up, a flood of worry washes over his face,  as he places a hand behind your back,  “Hey, you okay?”

“I’m all good,” you stretch out your neck, “who knew laying on a hard desk would hurt your back? Not me, that’s for sure.”

He smiles before planting his lips on yours; but this time it wasn’t lustful, it was caring, it was soft. You can’t help but bring both hands up to his face, gently holding him. As you pull away, you suddenly realize why you were here in the first place, “Wait! What about the information you needed?” He keeps his gaze on you as he reaches into his suit pocket, pulling out a small thumb drive. Your eyes light up in amusement before giggling, “You’re pretty good, but what was with that pouty attitude earlier? Hm?”

“Just needed to be close to you,” he answers nonchalantly.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in again, “Like this?”

He nods, “Just like this, baby.”

Your cheeks were warm, admiring every feature on his face, you could see him better when you’re this close, “Let’s go home. I’m pretty sure everyone in a 50-foot radius heard me, and now I’m embarrassed.”

“Alright,” he gives you one more glance up and down your figure, smoothing out a wrinkle in the gown, “let’s go.”

“Mission accomplished?”

“Mission accomplished, sweetheart.”

--author's note: GUYS!!! first frank castle fic, we are so up right now. i've been waiting to craft this up because he's so delicious and so tortured, i need him so bad. THANK YOU anon!!! this request is picture perfect! MY 200 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION IS STILL GOING ON, so send me a request if you love me (im jk...no i'm not). don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! okay, bye ily<3333