#buddy daddies matching icons

[milluxst]

★ kazuki and rei matching icons !!

• like/reblog if you use

[formulafanfics13]

🏁F1 drivers, Team Principals and WAGS as Emoji's

Lando Norris 🧃 because he gives juicebox boyfriend energy. silly. sweet. not emotionally available. wears hoodies too long.

Oscar Piastri 📱 silent. deadpan. always online. probably replying “oh” to traumatic confessions. calculating things in Notes app.

Charles Leclerc 😭 because he is always suffering, whether it’s love, Ferrari strategy, or his own decisions. man is a walking ballad.

Lewis Hamilton 🕊️ elevated. floating. spiritual and iconic. also might disappear to Bali for 2 weeks with no notice.

Max Verstappen 💣 explosive. unbothered. destructive. wins everything and still complains. probably bored of Earth.

Yuki Tsunoda 🍜 iconic foodie. adorable menace. would fight a Michelin chef over instant noodles.

Carlos Sainz 🍷 classy, sexy, definitely makes eye contact too long. owns multiple white linen shirts and uses wine metaphors in real life.

Alex Albon 🦦 soft chaos. trustworthy. accidentally hot. gives off emotionally intelligent otter boyfriend vibes.

George Russell 📊 excel spreadsheet-coded. gives PowerPoint presentations in relationships. dry text energy but will call you “darling.”

Kimi Antonelli 🐣 he’s literally a baby chicken. 12 years old (emotionally). trying his best. still new, still fragile, must be protected.

Lance Stroll 🛏️ always tired. permanently horizontal. rich. will do the absolute minimum and still be in the top 10.

Fernando Alonso 🐊 ancient. terrifying. sexy. gives villain monologue energy. has definitely fought a crocodile before and won.

Liam Lawson 🧢 permanent cap-wearer. sneaky. probably texts you "u up?" from an anonymous account. a certified lurker.

Isack Hadjar 💥 little chaotic explosion. talks fast, thinks faster, definitely has bruises from doing stupid things in hotel rooms.

Gabriel Bortoleto 🧁 too sweet. suspiciously sweet. like he’s buttering you up before telling your secrets to the group chat.

Nico Hülkenberg 🪦 haunted. ageless. fighting ghosts of past podiums (until Silverstone). still hot. still spiraling.

Ollie Bearman 🐻 actual teddy bear. big, soft, clumsy. absolutely the type to say “did I hurt you??” in the middle of sex.

Esteban Ocon 🚪 a door. literally just a door. opens, closes, blocks people, gets slammed.

Pierre Gasly 💋 flirty. emotional. will kiss you and then ghost you because he’s “working on himself.” wears too much cologne.

Franco Colapinto 🍯 sweet honey boy. good intentions. gets peer pressured into bad decisions and says sorry too much.

Toto Wolff 🐺 he is the wolf. large. brooding. emotionally repressed. gives you €20M in therapy and calls it love.

Christian Horner 🥕 because he’s literally a carrot in a designer vest. smug. crunchy. definitely gets turned on by power. (also Geri calls him “bunny” unironically. you know it. I know it.)

Fred Vasseur 🚬 chain-smokes metaphorically. doesn’t care. will let Charles cry in front of him and still say “we’ll see.”

Andrea Stella 🫖 calm. warm. soft-spoken. but will absolutely scald you if you get his boys hurt. protective italian dad vibes.

Zak Brown 🍔 american-coded. comfort food energy. would call you “buddy” then buy you a yacht. loud but lovable.

James Vowles 📉 human downward graph. constantly trying to fix generational trauma at Williams using only spreadsheets and vibes.

Flavio Briatore 💸 sugar daddy-coded. terrifyingly tan. gives “I bought an island to avoid extradition” energy.

Mike Krack 🐸 krack = croak. frog-coded. also just permanently confused. probably talks to his plants. deserves peace.

Laurent Mekies 🌱 feels like a fresh. smart and useful. trying to keep it together. works in chaos with zero SPF.

Ayao Komatsu 🔧 will fix your life and your car at the same time. underpaid. over it. probably doesn’t sleep. king of dry humour.

Magui Corceiro 🔥 hot girl villain energy. red nails. says “what?” like she means war. the match and the fire.

Lily Zneimer 🪞 mirror selfie connoisseur. soft glam, glossy lips, and knows every angle. stays out of drama but sees everything.

Alexandra Saint Mleux 🎨 french, feral, artsy. will paint a nude of you while insulting your ex. smoke trailing out her nose like it’s Chanel.

Kelly Piquet 🧊 icy. expensive. unfazed. gives Versace Medusa vibes. you think she’s staring through you but she’s actually bored.

Rebecca Donaldson 💼 the definition of “that’s a power blazer.” drinks iced coffee like it’s her legal right. could sue and seduce you.

Lily Muni He 🎀 pinterest-core. pink bows, luxury skincare, and slays in silence. knows her worth and his net worth.

Carmen Mundt 📚 oxford girlie. clean girl aesthetic. soft spoken in public, feral in private. brings spreadsheets to brunch.

Eliška Bábíčková 🍒 19 and already running the grid. looks like a cherry, bites like one too. Kimi Antonelli has no chance.

Melissa Jimenez 💃 latina mom energy. red lipstick and killer heels. always looks put together. might destroy you with a sentence.

Hannah St John 🙂‍↕️ pretty, fresh, and underestimated. flirty in group chats. owns ten bikinis and a taser.

Isabella Bernardini 🧸 soft girl energy. always giggling. keeps Gabriel alive out of sheer will. accidentally looks hot all the time.

Egle Ruskyte 🌊 barefoot, sunkissed, and married to Nico Hulkenberg. seafoam wife. floats through life, occasionally threatens the IRS.

Alicia Torriani 🍓 the kind of girl who smiles sweetly before dragging you. vintage-coded. Ollie’s obsessed and we get it.

Flavy Barla ✨ dreamy girl vibes. star earrings. keeps Esteban in line with one raised brow. no one knows how, but she does.

Kika Gomes 🦋 the blueprint. flirty, unbothered, too pretty to fight. lets Pierre act insane in peace. secretly the smartest person in the room.

[the-offside-rule]

Mason Mount (Manchester United) - Theatre of Dreams

Requested: yes

Prompt: 10) Baby's first game

Warnings: none

Baby Prompts

The sun hung low in the sky as Mason, his wife Y/n, and their son Joshua approached the iconic Old Trafford stadium for Joshua's first ever football match. Excitement buzzed in the air, and little Joshua, donned in a mini version of his dad's jersey, couldn't contain his giggles. "Daddy, are we going to see you play?" Joshua asked, his eyes wide with anticipation. Mason chuckled, holding onto his son's tiny hands, carefully leading him into the stadium. "Yes we are, bossman." He replied, lifting him up as he spotted the few reporters and photographers, not wanting to reveal his son, nevermind startle him. Whilst everyone knew the couple had a child, they didn't know what he looked like or anything about him. "Can you score? You haven't scored in ages." Mason looked over to Y/n who attempted to hide a grin. "Yeah, I'll try."

Mason showed Y/n and Joshua up to the box where most of the WAGs stayed, telling them about where everything is and how to leave after the final whistle blew. "So I'll wait for you in the car park?" Y/n asked. Mason nodded. "Yeah, just-" He was cut from his wrds as he felt a small tug at his trousers. The couple looked down to see Joshua pointing out the window. "Daddy, it's so big!" Joshua exclaimed, his voice filled with awe. Mason grinned, sharing a look with Y/n and once again lifting Joshua up. "Yep, it's one of the biggest stadiums, buddy. You're going to have a great time." Mason placed a gentle kiss onto his son's cheek. "Now, you sit with Mummy and I'll see you after the game, yeah?" He suggested, handing him over to Y/n.

"Bye, Daddy!" Joshua smiled, pulling at his mother's jacket. "Oh, before I leave-" He paused and reached for a black Manchester United bag, pulling out a small box and handing it to Joshua. "I got you a quick pressie." Joshua examined the box carefully before pulling the lid off and being confronted with a bright red jersey. He lifted it and looked at the back, his father's number staring back. "What do you think?" Mason asked gently. "It's not blue." Joshua replied. Mason couldn't help but feel his heart drop a little bit, the thought of his son not supporting him lingering in the back of his mind. "But red is my favourite."

Mason beamed with joy and ruffled his hair. "Good man." He grinned. "I'll see you after the game." He stood up and leaned over to Y/n. "Love you." He whispered. "Love you too."

As the players took to the pitch, Y/n and Joshua cheered with unbridled enthusiasm, their voices merging with the chorus of supporters around them. "I see daddy!" Joshua exclaimed, clapping his hands. "No, baby. Daddy is number 7, not 19." She explained calmly. "Oh. Okay." He searched the pitch again before turning back to his Mum. "What number is 7 again?"

As Mason walked back to the car, he smiled gently upon seeing Y/n leaning against the car. "Missed you." He said with a tender smile, grateful for her unwavering support. She giggled as he practically fell into her arms. "Ot has been 2 hours." He shrugged. "I dom't care. Couldn't wait to get off the pitch for once." He said, pulling away and looking behind her. "Was he okay?" He asked, referring to Joshua who was asleep. "He was fine. He's just a bit sleepy now." Mason nodded. "We should get home and get him to bed."

As the couple reached home, they stopped in silence for a moment. "This is mad, you know." Mason arched a brow. "I mean, I remember my first match as your girlfriend and now we have our son coming with us. That's all I mean." Mason smiled sleepily. "It is mad when you put it that way." Mason undid his seatbelt and hopped out of the car. "Would you mind bringing in my kitbag and I'll bring Joshua to bed?" Y/n agreed before grabbing his bag and heading inside.

With tender care, Mason unbuckled Joshua's seatbelt, his movements slow and deliberate so as not to disturb the tranquility of sleep. He marveled at the innocence that radiated from his son's peaceful countenance, a sight that never failed to fill his heart with a sense of warmth and pride. Gently cradling Joshua in his arms, Mason stepped out of the car, the cool night air washing over him like a soothing balm. As Mason made his way towards the house, his footsteps were soft and deliberate, each one a testament to the love that guided his every move. He savored the weight of Joshua in his arms, the bond between them forged in the quiet moments of tenderness and affection.

Mason kicked off his shoes upon reaching the front door. He loved home. The warmth of the house enveloped them like a comforting embrace and each step on the soft carpet adding to the comfort. Mason tiptoed up the stairs, his movements fluid and effortless as he navigated the familiar terrain of their home.

Mason opened the nursery door, hushing Joshua as he stirred in his sleep. Mason gently laid his sleeping son down in his crib, tucking the blankets around him with infinite care. He lingered for a moment, his gaze lingering on Joshua's innocent face. "You doing alright?" He turned to see Y/n leaning by the door. "Just fine. I'll be right back to you in a minute and we can go watch a film or something." He replied. "Or try for baby number 2." He almost jumped at the suggestion. "Do you mean it?" Y/n chuckled softly at her husband's reaction. "Maybe. Don't leave me waiting too long." She said before heading away downstairs.

"Goodnight, Joshua." Mason said as he brushed a gentle kiss against Joshua's forehead. With a final glance, Mason tiptoed out of the room, the door closing softly behind him, and for his son to sleep after spending his evening in the Theatre of Dreams.

[therealslimshakespeare]

From Sarge’s kids I think I’m (as of now) excited to learn more about Daisy. She’s got a lot of Elvis in her and she witnesses Elaine go to hell and back to help him beat his addiction and although she’s independent I hope there’s gonna be someone who will be able to do the same for her or stand by her. Not to mention she’s got a twin who they come off as polar opposites (what with Rosalee being a huge Daddy’s girl) and her comments towards her older sister Ella’s marriage - I get the feeling there’s a lot to unpack there.

I think sometimes Elvis felt like he was too much to love and I see a lot of his personal insecurities in Daisy, she even is a popstar like him and that’s a lot of people loving you with maybe them feeling like they aren’t really known for who they are deep down.

I am so happy to hear this, I’ve got a little started on each kid’s own fic (I want one for each like I had for Jesse, just to establish them and then let loose with the intermingling) and I really think hers is compelling. It’s been truly a blast to get to know her and I’ve gotta be honest she may be the most Lisa-like of any Sarge kid in many ways, partly because she’s so Elvis incarnate. It took awhile but me and my scheming buddies have cooked up a good partner for her and she will always have her family as backup and even her godfather Marlon. I think she will, as you said, be publicly adored but can be rather offputting one on one, even though she desperately needs connection. I think eventually, and not after too long, all these relationships get far better, and Daisy finds her little nook in the family easily. She is the one to go to for the zero bullshit takes or help hiding a body. Loyal and fierce that one.

And here, since you made my day asking about her, have a little random snippet I’ve written about her first big debut recording which came from her rehab scribbles and, unfortunately for the family members her lyrics feature -becomes a sensation.

Era: 1978-9ish??

Warnings: moderate…mentions of past divorce, infidelity, a daughter sorta writing a hit tell all? remincence of a one off threesome and Elvis having straight man panic for it (I’m afraid this couple is polyamorous central I’m the 60’s but nothing explicit) big ole family chat with the grown kids, chaos as can be expected…

What about Wendy?

“Daisy Mae!” Elvis bellows her full name because the crime warrants it, and from behind him, her voice answers, not in person from her place sprawled on the couch but behind him, coming through the stereo in a clear cadence that his creative side must acknowledge is skilled and evocative. What Elvis doesn't find so praiseworthy is his Dear Daughter hanging the family laundry out for all to see with lyrics like:

—“So I'll lock the window and turn on the AC, You'll throw your rocks, and you'll scream that you hate me, But it gets old being forever 20, And what about my wings? What about Wendy?”—

out on a clothesline for all the world to commentate on his failings and his marriage.

The music video coming out tomorrow on MTV, teased as featuring a fresh faced Daisy in a montage of her mother’s most iconic looks -including that secretive wedding gown so few of the nation ever saw, rather hammers home the not so subtle point. As far as Elvis is concerned this is about as disloyal as it gets.

And he is having none of it.

“It’s art, Daddy.” Daisy murmurs, utterly unphased by the hurricane of wrath she can match once she gets that cup of coffee Rosalee is making her.

“Is this how you see us?” Elvis demands and Jesse winces to the side, things had been going so smoothly after Danny was born but lord, the Presley’s just can’t manage to be calm for long, Daisy had to record that stupid black book she scribbled in during rehab and, my does it have some choice takes on the events of the last decade. “This how you see your childhood?” Elvus goes on, “Where we loved ya like no one’s ever loved any kids and gave ya everythin’ and-“

“-and slammed a buncha doors in between.“ Daisy shrugs, not meaning to be cruel, but it’s the truth and she’s never had her sibling’s affinity for the affection that the rest of the kids take as blood money for the insanity they got put through. Daisy doesn't hold a grudge against anyone for her childhood, in fact, she’s thankful for the writing material. But she’s not gonna be sorry for writing shit as it was.

Which was mama playing a haggard Wendy while Daddy flitted in and out of the window at whim like Peter Pan.

“Girl,” her daddy begs her to understand as he takes his seat next to her on the sofa, big ringed hand familiar and pleading on her bony knee, as if somehow this appeal of his will lock the song back into her diary and out of the radio -or maybe he doesn’t care about his reputation anymore, he’s gotten lax about that after the divorce, maybe he really is seeking after his child’s good opinion this time when he continues, “I’m all for art’n’shit but have I not taught ya nothin’ bout-“

“Daddy, ya didn’t even write your own songs.” Daisy gently tries to get him to see the difference in their art but Jesse gasps out in horror:

“Daisy!!” like she just shot their father instead of stating the truth. Which is kinda her problem with her family, they can’t take straight facts.

“Alright, alright then,” Elvis simmers a bit but his tone is restrained as he presses his point, “so ya write from the heart and ya wrote about life, I get ya. So then why’d you call mama Wendy when, w-w-when she’s -she’s my Tinkerbell?”

“You’d rather I used your pet little name in public?” Daisy scoffs at his muddled logic and feels bad for the first time after -soon as his brow furrows in genuine hurt. Daddy loves mama, he loves her again like a new man and Daisy doesn’t get how that works but it’s the truth and she’s got no fight to pick with the truth. It makes her admit with a shrug, “I used it ‘cause Marlon always says she’s Wendy.”

You could hear a pin drop the way everyone’s chatter in the living room stops, even the coffee maker stops spluttering in the distance and it’s highly likely Jesse isn’t even breathing as everyone’s head’s swivel, Daddy’s slower but more intent than any, to look at Elaine where’s she sits in the white arm chair, blanket cast over her where Danny fell asleep while nursing. She’s as white as the rocker she sits in.

“Oh does he now?” Elvis rumbles and Daisy feels the unintentional bite of his nails on her knee.

“Well yeah, he does and -always has.” Daisy insists as if the past and present existence of Brando’s opinions on Elvis’ wife makes shit any better, Daisy knows it the second she lets it out that it’s not exactly balm on the scab.

Her voice doesn't make anyone look away from mama and her perfect, frozen face, carefully neutral and soothingly disinterested in the topic.

“That man has only ever called me, Elaine.” mama laughs an airy, dismissive little thing and the bite of Daddy’s rings on Daisy’s knee loosens their grip. “And if he thinks i'm a Wendy -he should say it to my face.” she jokes and Jesse predictably lets out a pained laugh of solidarity.

“-A-a-and w-who the hell did ya get to sew all those recreated outfits, girl?” Daddy is suddenly back on the original topic with a burst of renewed incredulity at her gall and Daisy knows she can use this to her advantage, get him arguing about fashion, tailors and supporting local folks instead of berating her for her lyrics and-

-Ella watches as Elaine’s stiff face smoothes into relief and she lays her head back against the rocker’s cushion and closes her eyes against the hubbub that’s no longer pertinent to her. Not for the first time Ella wonders if mama is as burdened as she is with thoughts and feelings married women shouldn’t have, they really shouldn’t. Marriage should cure a woman of them but Ella had them all alone on the ranch with her husband gone and Mama had Marlon and his lingering looks and her frozen face whenever his name gets mentioned and mama who is staring up at the ceiling like she’s no longer in the room with them at all.

“Peter Pan, Peter Pan, little lost boy actin’ like a big man,” only Marlon could have made that rhyme sound like anything but a goad, only Marlon really saw what Elaine saw when Elvis was sated, pliable, sweet as a newborn and pretty a sin. “Those producers who’ve got him playin’ tough n’ shit don’t know his appeal, they just don’t get it. Goddamn Peter Pan.”

And he had run his fingers over Elvis’ face, catching his drooping eyelids and pulling them down and over his nose to those cherub lips. And Elvis’ eyes hadn’t opened again till next morning when he woke in angry panic.

Elaine stares at the ceiling and feels Danny shift against her breast, snuggling closer, and she wonders if Elvis ever recalls that night like she does. Ever replays it a million times.

Wendy, Wendy Wendy.

Marlon thinks she’s Wendy, Marlon’s told her own daughter that. But never her. No. He’d just raked his hand through the wrecked coiff of Elvis’ gelled hair and admiringly called him Peter Pan. And Elvis, being Elvis in the state of freshly loved and freshly praised, never balked at it before drifting to sleep in their muggy tent.

Wendy, Wendy, Wendy, he never called Elaine that to her face.

Elaine catches Daisy’s eye next time she looks away from the ceiling, an odd moment of recognition. Funny how each child knows a part of her, but it’s the inner workings of Daisy’s curious, generous, honest self -a heart so very like Elvis’ own- that can look back at Elaine and smile at her, while knowing her fully, faults and all. It’s not so bad having grown daughters as a friend, Elaine decides as she watches Elvis flail backwards against the couch to laugh at his daughter's good natured dig at his unmodified wardrobe.

It’s good not to be his only Wendy keeping him young anymore.

Song based on: Wendy by Maisie Peters

Tags:

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|

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@mydarlingelvis

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[vividomakeup]

Toxic Attraction 2.0 (Chapter 1)

Chapter Summary: After tensions arise within the Judgment day, Women’s World Champion Liv Morgan decides to abandon the group and take matters into her own hands by forming her own stable.

Characters:

Main: Liv Morgan, Austin Theory, Grayson Waller, Will Ospreay, Kyle Fletcher

Also Featuring: Raquel Rodriguez, Dirty Dominik Mysterio, Finn Bálor, JD McDonagh, Carlito, Don Callis, etc

There are many iconic stables that were formed during the Triple H era. But only two of the many stables are currently the most dominant ones in WWE today.

On one side, there is the bloodline. Now ran by Solo Sikoa, Tama Tonga, Tonga Loa, and Jacob Fatu.

And on the other side, there is The Judgment Day. Consisting of Finn Balor, JD McDonagh, Dirty Dominik Mysterio, Carlito, Raquel Rodriguez, and the women’s world champion Liv Morgan.

But as of late, tensions have arose between the Judgement Day. Mainly because Finn Balor is still feeling sour after his back and forth rivalry with Damian Priest. Finn costs Damian his tittle. Damian costs his. They always despised each other ever since Finn betrayed Damian and kicked him out of the Judgement Day. But everything for Finn has reached to a boiling point where he took out is anger and all of his frustrations on his teammates. Specifically, Liv Morgan.

“Goddamn it! Why the fuck weren’t you guys out there during me and JD’s Championship match?!?!” - Finn

“Because Adam Pierce has banned all of us from ringside.” - Liv

“So what?!?! I don’t give a fuck what Adam Pierce says! That son of a bitch Damian has cost me and JD’s world tag team titles! Now it’s just Liv who is doing all the bidding for us because she’s the only one that has gold around her waist!” - Finn

“You watch your mouth Finn!” - Raquel

“Dude! What’s gotten into you?!?! Why are you still not over Damian?!?! As of matter of fact, you shouldn’t be treating my girl like that” - Dominik

“Dominik, the only reason why she is champion is because she always her little bitches by her side. You guys were not there like you were supposed to when I got robbed of my championship! Besides why don’t you guys get the fuck outta here and munch on your little chicken tendies like the infant you are!” - Finn

“Whoa chill down mate” - JD McDonagh

“Don’t you dare talk to Daddy Dom like that in front of me ever again! In fact, I don’t even wanna see you ever again!” - Liv

“So you just gonna abandon the crew then?!?!” - Finn

“Finn let me remind you who I am. I am the current women’s world champion, former money in the bank winner, two time tag team champion with Raquel, and I am the ONLY woman who beat the baddest women on the planet, Ronda Rousey twice! And I don’t need to be in some street trash group with an egotistical leader like you!” - Liv

“Your daddy Dom is never coming with you! He’s been my bro since day one!” - Finn

“Actually Finn, not anymore! I quit! And I’m leaving with Liv and Raquel!” - Dominik

“Me too, I’m not abandoning my chica estupido!” - Raquel

“Fine! You guys get the fuck out of the clubhouse! You bitches will be nothing without me! Nothing!” - Finn

Liv, Raquel, and Dominik all stormed out of the clubhouse while JD and Carlito tried to calm Finn down from that argument that turned into a shouting match.

“That’s not cool man” - Carlito

Meanwhile Dominik and Raquel tried to calmed Liv down after arguing with Finn for being a sore loser.

“That was so uncalled for Finn to say that shit to you. You so are much better without him.” - Dominik

“Thanks Daddy Dom” - Liv

“But now it will be just the three of us since JD and Carlito are staying with Finn.” - Raquel

“Maybe not for long…” - Dominik

“What do you mean?” - Raquel

“I know a few guys who may be able to help…” - Dominik

Dominik pulled out his cell phone and called his buddy Austin Theory. He and Austin are best friends where Austin was one of Dom’s groomsmen during his wedding.

“Hey man what’s up? I’m with my boy Grayson. You need something?” - Austin

“Yeah, I was about to talk to both of you. How soon can you guys head over to the arena and meet me? I’m with Liv and Raquel”

“We’ll be there in half an hour.” - Grayson

After Austin and Grayson both pulled up to the arena where Monday Night Raw was airing, both of them went inside to meet Dominik, Liv, & Raquel.

“What’s going on? Why aren’t you guys with the rest of your judgment day mates?” - Austin

“Because Liv got upset at Finn over his tittle loss.” - Raquel

“Still?!?! He and Damian are still at it again?!?!” - Grayson

“Yep, he’s a sore loser. So me, daddy Dom, and Raquel all decided to leave him” - Liv

“But doesn’t that leave with just the three of you guys?” - Austin

“Yeah so that’s why I called you guys so you can both help us.” - Dominik

“Fine. Under one condition.” - Grayson

“Dude what are you talking about?” - Austin

“Just wait man.” - Grayson

Grayson then pulled out his phone and started calling his fellow Aussie who actually works for AEW.

Meanwhile backstage at AEW, Kyle Fletcher is having a pep talk with Don Callis when suddenly his cell phone goes off.

*phone rings*

“Hold on Don, I gotta get this real quick…”

*Kyle picks up his phone*

“Hey mate, I only got a few minutes. What’s up?” - Kyle

“Dude I need to talk to you when you get a chance.” - Grayson

“Okay??? What’s this about?” - Kyle

“I’ll explain later. Just meet me and Austin tomorrow morning. Bring Will with you.”

“Okay??? I’ll see you tomorrow I guess???” - Kyle

Kyle and Grayson both hung up while Don Callis overheard Kyle’s phone conversation with Grayson.

“Kyle, be careful man. I don’t like where this is heading…” - Don Callis

“Don, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I got it all taken care of. I am the protostar after all.” - Kyle

“All right, whatever you say.” - Don Callis

Kyle and Don Callis both leave the arena while Kyle thinks about what the conversation with Grayson and Austin is going to be about tomorrow morning.

TO BE CONTINUED…

[sushigeo]

[waterrr]

i know what you are

[kitsunigami]

Buddy Daddies 👨‍👨‍👧 matching icons

[morzyin]

♡ㅤBuddy Daddies

ㅤNão reposte sem os créditos! Do not repost without credits!

[enha-roza]

ROZA SHIPS

Heeseung ( acez/heeza ) : 

– First ship – Popular since iland – Ace couple – Mum and dad of Enhypen – Lots of skinship – Heeseung calls Roza his wife – Heeseung gets jealous easily – Cover songs together – Fan fave #1

Iconic moments : 

We’re the most popular iland duo.

When traveling through the airport Roza almost tripped and from then on Heeseung held her hand.

Heeseung was caught holding Roza's waist under her shirt on live.

During an en-log they were seen sleeping in the same bed.

Heeseung fought with Jake when Jake proposed to Roza during an en-o'clock. 

Heeseung brought Roza matching couple rings for her birthday. 

˖ ✧ ⸻

Jay ( Jayza/jeongri ) : 

– 02z – English buddy’s – Soft for Roza – Clingy when tired – Protective Jay – Sugar daddy Jay – Lots of bickering – Underrated

Iconic moments : 

Jay and Sunghoon called Roza pretty during iland's first episode.

When Jay pulled Roza’s photo card and put it in the back of his phone case. 

The iconic pre-debut live where they couldn’t stop laughing over nothing. 

When Roza didn’t understand something during iland Jay would translate for her. 

When Jay fell asleep during the spa en-o'clock episode, Roza laid down and cuddled him. 

That time Jay brought Roza expensive headphones after she did aegyo for him. 

˖ ✧ ⸻

Jake ( Yunri ) : 

– 02z – Chaotic & loud – English buddy’s 2.0 – Touchy – Cuddle buddies – Flirty 24/7 – Engaged ( en o’clock ) – Roza plays with jake's hair when he lays in her lap – Fan fave #2

Iconic moments : 

When they got nicknamed iland’s sweethearts. 

When Jake proposed to Roza during an episode of en-o’clock. 

All the ice cream ‘dates’ they go on. 

The time Roza flirted with Jake and got shy when he flirted back. 

The shared Spotify playlist they have for when they cuddle/sleep together. 

During iland Jake fell asleep because Roza was playing with his hair. 

˖ ✧ ⸻

Sunghoon ( visualz/hoonza ) : 

– 02z – Visuals – Prince and Princess – Possessive Sunghoon – Clingy & touchy – Accidentally kissed on live – Bickering lots – Roza plays with the hair on the back of his head a lot – Roza is the biggest fan of his skating – Always complement each other – Fan fave #3

Iconic moments : 

The time Sunghoon caught Roza staring at his hands and then called her out, making her flustered.

When Roza tripped and Sunghoon caught her kdrama style.

When they got voted top male and female visuals on iland.

During the start of an en o’clock episode Roza was seen playing with Sunghoon's Hair. 

When they went on a skating ‘date’ and earned the nicknames ice prince and princess.

When Sunghoon turned his head towards Roza as she was leaning over his shoulder and their lips touched while they were on live.

˖ ✧ ⸻

Sunoo ( sunza ) : 

– Cuties – Lots of aegyo – Sassy duo – Bickering 24/7 – Annoy the other members – Best reactions since iland – Tom and jerry – Help each other out lots

Iconic moments : 

When they both judged the bad singers on the iland.

They snuggled on the couch on the first day in the dorms after iland.

When decorating cakes Sunoo accidentally knocked Roza’s cake over causing them to burst out laughing. 

Them having an aegyo battle and the staff having to stop them or it wouldn’t end.

When Roza and Sunoo were caught judging Jay and Sunghoon during ‘paradoXXX invasion’ shoot when they were flexing their muscles.

They started arguing during an episode of en-o'clock and made all the staff laugh. 

˖ ✧ ⸻

Sooyoung ( sooza ) :

– Only girls – Gayest ship – Tease each other – Go everywhere together – Holding hands 24/7 – Team up to tease the boys – Met in 2018 – Iconic and most memorable female duo on iland

Iconic moments : 

When Sooyoung made fun of Roza, so Roza chased her. 

When they made fun of Jake’s 10 months ending fairy. 

Any post Produce 48 interaction.

When they saw each other for the first time in months on I-Land.

When they laughed at Eunhae for demanding the male trainees' attention during I-Land.

When they realized they were the only girls with 7 male members and both burst out laughing. 

˖ ✧ ⸻

Jungwon ( meowz/wonza ) : 

– Jays favorites – Cat duo – Sibling energy – Clingy Jungwon – Jungwon relies on Roza a lot – Roza has a soft spot for Jungwon – Roza is the only member that always listens to Jungwon – Roza protects Jungwon from the other members teasing

Iconic moments : 

When Jungwon accidentally called Roza unnie.

Jungwon being the child of Roza and Heeseung during I-Land.

Roza buying Jungwon and Niki ice creams before a live. 

When Jungwon picked her as the member who listens the best so she treated him to dinner.

When they fangirled over Jungkook together on live. 

when Jungwon was clinging to Roza and fell asleep in her arms.

˖ ✧ ⸻

Niki ( yuki ) : 

– Niki is Roza's baby – Both born in Japan – Main dancers – Mum and son energy – Bickering – Roza and Heeseung scolding Niki like he's their child – Niki clingy to Roza – Niki often whines to Roza

Iconic moments : 

When he accidentally called Roza mom. 

Roza bought Niki and Jungwon ice creams before a live.

Niki came up with the duo name Yuki for the both of them. 

Roza defended Niki when the members made fun of his Korean. 

Niki took Roza to meet his family after their concert in Japan.

Niki said on live that he only cries in front of Roza because she is his comfort person.

[ivyines]

Hello to all the new visitors, welcome to my account.

Here you can find fanart, writing prompts, edits, matching icons, incorrect quotes, and much more content of my ships and fandoms.

If we have any of the fandoms in common, feel free to like this post, comment or follow me and i will check out your profile for some of the content!

︵‿︵‿ .❀✿❀. ‿︵‿︵

My fandoms include:

Anime

Naruto (franchise)

Yu-Gi-Oh (fracnchise)

Banana Fish

Sk8 the Infinity

Mob Psycho 100

Spy x Family

The Disastrous life of Saiki Kusuo

The Millionaire Detective - Balance Unlimited

My Hero Academia

Death Note

Buddy Daddies

Webtoons / Manwha / Manhua / Manga

Trash of the count's family

Lookism

Noblesse

Viral Hit

19 Days

Your Throne

The Remmaried Empress

Welcome to demon school iruma kun

Villain To Kill

Eleceed

Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint

The Greatest Estate Developer

Return of the Blossoming Blade

Get Schooled

Batman: Wayne Family Adventures

The World After The Fall

The Breaker 3: Eternal Force

Manager Kim

Killer Peter

On the way home to meet mom

Other

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Marvel

DC

BTS

Anthony Padilla

Corpse Husband

Alice in Borderland

Uncanny Counter

Fear Of You (BNHA fic by SleepwalkersQueen)

︵‿︵‿ .❀✿❀. ‿︵‿︵

If you're looking for something specific here are the tags I'm starting to use:

For writing: #ines ivy writes ✍

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For memes: #Ines ivy's low-quality memes

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Playlist that I made: #Ines ivy's playlists

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︵‿︵‿ .❀✿❀. ‿︵‿︵

I have many ships so check reblogged tags to find some of my favorites :)

P.s. if by any chance someone is trying to reach me but I'm not responding, pls try my side blog @lawyer-of-shinyo-takami because I'm usually active on one or the other.

︵‿︵‿ .❀✿❀. ‿︵‿︵

❕PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG AND ADD YOUR OWN UNRELATED TAGS ❕

[theloneliestshipper]

I don't always do collaborations but when I do it's an utterly self-indulgent crossover of two Star Wars properties that have absolutely no reason to overlap and a potential audience of about five people. Also I do it with @nyelung.

AO3 Link

And never kick the ball! Rated T

“... Hutts don’t have feet!” The final words of Baroness Deathmark echo through the arena. Having heard the introduction a few dozen times or more in the last year alone, Boba could say it with her if he were in the mood. He’s not.

They’ve changed the arena up for the season. There’s only so many ways that the Nar Shaddaa Huttball arena can be changed but apparently they went all out this time and rearranged a significant portion of the walkways and traps. He can make out something that looks suspiciously like a series of trapdoors surrounding the mag-ball’s centre spot, undoubtedly hiding some nasty surprises. Well, since Fennec managed to draw Djarin in as the team captain he’s not too worried that one of their team will find out what’s beneath those trapdoors the hard way.

Two minutes into the game Boba is scowling inside his helmet - not an unusual occurrence if the Quesh Rotworms were to be asked. He came aboard as a coach last year, when there were children’s teams on Tatooine who could play better so they had seen it a lot.

“It’s nice that for once it’s not our players getting maimed,” Fennec comments. “It was getting hard to find new ones.

Huttball is one of the most brutal semi-legal sports in the galaxy and even though all players are fully armoured - part of the reason why the sport is so popular in the Mandalorian sector - and killing during the game has been forbidden since the Cold War, injuries or even crippledom aren’t uncommon because the players are also armed to the teeth. That’s what the Frogdog wearing the number seven just found out the hard way when Djarin and Aelto perfectly executed a manoeuvre to take the ball from him.

Baroness Deathmark on the other hand should avoid dark alleys tonight since the ban on killing did not apply to the way she verbally tore Frogdog Seven apart with her remarks. The handsigns he throws in the direction of the commentator box are basically a promise to hunt her down and kill her slowly and painfully. At least that’s what they mean in Mandalorian space and that’s what has Boba scowling. Why promise the commentator utterly brutal torture when it was Djarin and Aelto who maimed him?

It’s not his problem, Boba reminds himself and concentrates on giving Djarin reports on the Frogdog team’s movements. If Baroness Deathmark earns another deathmark to her name, it’s nothing he has to worry about.

In the end, Boba doesn’t have to feel too bad about the Rotworm’s performance even though they took quite the beating and lost by two points against the Frogdogs. Baroness Deathmark’s final comment is just as cutting as the spikes Tika fell on in the second half. They’re still stitching all the muscles and tendons back together in the med-area but Tika will probably never play again.

Still, just one player permanently out of commission and eight points scored versus ten lost is much better than the Rotworms have managed in decades. Overall Boba is quite content. “Do you think they serve Spotchka here?”

Fennec raises one brow. “Do you mean: Do they serve affordable Spotchka here that’s not actually engine grease? No idea, let’s find out.”

___

The commentator booth is quiet now. Leia takes a second to let her head fall back and to roll the stiffness out of her neck. When she turns her chair around, the event producer Lando Calrissian is standing in the doorway, his headset still on. “Nice work today,” he says, covering the mic with his hand. “You really live up to your name.”

“Let them try it,” Leia scoffs as she picks up her satchel and jacket. “If I had a credit for every huttballer who threatened to kill me I could retire yesterday. And anyway, I didn’t say anything that wasn’t blatantly obvious to every being in the stands.”

“Still, I’d watch your back while you’re on Nar Shaddaa. And listen, my buddy Han is in town this weekend. Why don’t you let me set you up?”

“I’m busy next weekend.”

“Sure you are. Where are you going now? Home to your tooka and the latest episode of Sith Mansions?”

“For your information I’m going to a cantina. To meet someone.”

The fact that she doesn’t yet know who she’s going to meet doesn’t seem important. She might be a farm girl from Anchorhead, but she’s never had any trouble getting someone to pay for her drinks. Maybe she’ll get really lucky and it’ll even be someone who isn’t a spicer, slicer, smuggler or assassin. That would be a nice change of pace.

The Slippery Slope cantina is crowded with fans. Some of the Frogdog and Rotworm players are there for their contract-mandated mingling. As usual the Mandalorian players keep their distinctive helmets on for the personal holos their fans will want and to protect their privacy.

She passes by a knot of fans in Frogdog colors, several different languages conversing in varying tones of outrage. She hears “the Baroness” and smiles to herself as she finds a seat at the bar. She doesn’t need a helmet to keep people from recognizing her face. It’s her voice they know...and sometimes despise.

There’s a man two seats down wearing Mandalorian armor, but it’s not painted with team colors. He’s a fan, maybe. His helmet is resting out of sight beneath the bar while he nurses a glass of Spotchka. Spotchka sounds pretty good, actually.

He glances in her direction, but there’s no shift in body language, no smile. Shame. He’s a good-looking man and probably has a very nice smile. Leia signals the bartender and nods in his direction. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.”

That catches his attention, if briefly. He lifts his glass in a silent salute, one eyebrow slightly raised. Still no offer. Maybe he’s partnered. She lets her eyes drift down over his armor, applying what she’s learned from interviews with the Mandalorian huttball players. It looks like beskar to her.

The bartender delivers her Spotchka and her attention strays from the Mandalorian to any other likely candidates at the bar. Everyone is talking about the match.

“She’s dead,” a heated voice rises behind her, but not addressed to her. “Who does she think she is? That play was bullshit. You know it, I know it. There was nothing he could have done.”

Leia doesn’t have to turn around to know that the person speaking is wearing Frogdog yellow. They can whine about it all they want, but their player had at least two opportunities to pass before the Rotworms took him out.

Some players want all the glory. That’s not her fault.

“She had no right to tear into him like that. No wonder everyone hates her.”

“It’s her fucking job.” The unexpected defense comes from the Mandalorian sitting two seats down. He’s turned his chair to face the yellow-clad group, and there’s an unmistakable challenge in his low tone. “If your player did his, you wouldn’t have lost him two minutes in.”

The man who was speaking turned a startling shade of purple. Almost Rotworm purple. “Who asked you?”

“It’s a public place. If you want to have a private conversation I suggest you go home.” It’s not a suggestion. The Mandalorian makes that clear by standing up.

“You can go to hell! You and that fucking bitch-”

“Did someone say my name?” Suddenly there’s a woman standing between them, and Leia recognizes her instantly. Fennec Shand. Her iconic steely gaze is now fixed on the outraged fan. “You want to go home.”

In spite of the clamor around them there’s a silence and stillness that makes the threat implicit. The fan bares his teeth in a snarl before turning to go. Some of his friends leave with him and the rest drift away.

Fennec’s head tips toward the bartender. “Her drink is on me.” She winks at Leia before walking away. Maybe she’s more recognizable than she thought.

“Well. That was exciting,” she says, more to herself, but the Mandalorian nods as he reclaims his seat.

“You know Fennec?”

“Just by reputation.” She takes a quick sip of her paid-for drink. “That’s definitely the first time a huttball coach has bought me a drink.”

“Your lucky night.” The corner of his mouth curves up just enough to make Leia feel validated. A very nice smile indeed.

“And she’s a legend, obviously. It’s a shame she’s stuck holding up the Rotworms by herself.”

His smile hardens, just a little. “Is it?”

“There’s gotta be a dozen better teams who would be delighted to have her. And the Rotworms might be better than they were a year ago, but their offense is still half-awake at best and I heard her defense coach only got the job because his daddy rules Mandalore.”

“You believe everything you hear?”

“No, but I kind of have to keep my ear to the ground. Like you said, it’s my fucking job.”

“You’re Baroness Deathmark.” He says it with disbelief. “That’s why-” He directs a look of annoyance at the place where Fennec Shand vanished into the crowd.

“My friends call me ‘Leia.’” She leans forward, resting her chin on her hand. “I don’t think I got your name.”

For a moment the Mandalorian hesitates. Then there’s a shift in his posture, a slight relaxing of his shoulders and Leia’s willing to bet that that twitch in his face could become an actual playful smile. “Why don’t you tell me? Since it’s your job to know everything.”

It’s a challenge that makes her sit up. He’s someone connected, then. A promoter or a staff member. That explains how he knows Fennec. “Okay,” she says, intrigued. This could be fun. “Where did you grow up?”

“Kamino. What about you?”

She’s never heard of it. No help there. “Tatooine. My local team was the Anchorhead Womp Rats.”

“Did you play?”

“I’m supposed to be the one asking the questions,” she reminds him. “Did you play?”

“Yes. For the Skullhunters of Mandalore.”

“Fenn Shysa’s team?”

His head tilts to one side. “How do you know Fenn?”

“Everyone knows Fenn. Are you single?”

“You think that will help you figure it out?”

She raises her eyebrows. “Maybe I just want to know.”

“Yes. I’m single. You?”

“Yes.” She pauses to take a sip of Spotchka. “I wanted to play, but Uncle Owen wouldn’t let me. Too violent. I tried telling him that it wasn’t like the old days where entire teams could be massacred in a match, but for some reason he didn’t find that convincing.”

He nods in agreement. “It used to be a rite of passage in Mando culture. Now it’s just sports.”

“You don’t sound too enthusiastic for someone hanging out with Fennec Shand.” For a short moment Leia entertains the question whether he resents the no-killing-part or Huttball itself.

He shrugs. “There’s better sports.”

She hates to admit it, but she’s stumped. He knows the game but doesn’t particularly seem to like it. He can handle himself in a confrontation but it’s not as if the legendary Fennec Shand needs a bodyguard. Is it possible that someone actually hired a Mandalorian to take out Baroness Deathmark? But no, his surprise about her identity had been genuine. “Okay, final question. Why are you here?”

“Don’t quote me on this… nah, forget it.”

Oh, so it’s a story. “Come on. Entertain a lady.”

It’s clear that he’s tempted, calculating loss of face versus the chance to win her over for wherever this flirtation is going. Leia’s got a few suggestions already lined up in her mind. With an inaudible sigh he comes to a decision. “Dad kept nagging me to make connections beyond bounty hunting and Huttball is a lucrative enough business. It could be worse.”

Now there’s a hint. “So your father is…?”

“Some might say he rules Mandalore.” He gives her a quick smirk before finishing off his drink.

It all adds up quickly in her head, his history as a player on Mandalore, his knowledge of the game and his connection to Fennec Shand. She sets her glass down hastily in case she needs to make a very quick exit.

“You asked for my name,” he says, drawing it out with the ruthlessness of a professional Huttball defensive coach. “It’s Boba Fett. And for the record, that’s not how I got the job.”

As he speaks he stands and removes his helmet from the shelf under the bar and Leia recognizes it immediately. For one thing, it has the Rotworm logo painted on the side. She couldn’t say a word now even if she tried, but when Boba Fett turns to face her, it’s with a smile.

“I’m sure you have more opinions on what my team did wrong. Maybe you’d like to tell them to me over dinner.”

“I do,” she manages. “Especially about your team’s inability to follow through.” Feeling a little bit daring, Leia leans in to make her intentions perfectly clear. “What about dinner at my place?”

[curly-bangtan]

Heatwave Drabble #5: for the birthday boy (M)

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles]

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: For Taehyung’s birthday, you’ve planned a special surprise-filled evening just for him as his best friend by day, fuck buddy by night. But especially after a few drinks, he finds it difficult keeping his hands off you, which isn’t a good thing in front of all your friends.

Genre: drabble, smut, fwb au, roommate au, f2l

Warnings: teacher/student roleplay (if you’re not into that, just skip to the next scene, it’s meant to be slightly sarcastic anyway), brief lap dance, oral (m&f), overstimulation (m&f), unprotected sex (your girl finally invested in the pill yay), cum dumpster, facial, cum play and consumption, squirting, basically filth, light BDSM like spanking, handcuffs, choking, the usual, daddy kink (you know HW!Tae)

Word count: 11.3k yikes

A/N: Happy early birthday to the best boy! Why do I call these drabbles when it’s basically a series at this point smh -_- Enjoy this filthy monster~

.

“Surprise! Happy Birthday!”

Taehyung jumps beside you as you switch on the lights to your flat, illuminating the room full of people leap out from their hiding place at his arrival. The last syllable of their celebratory chant hangs in the air for an awkward moment as he takes in everything you put together for his birthday surprise.

Shiny party streamers decorating the walls, black and gold balloons bobbing against the ceiling, printed photos of your best memories together hanging from shelf to shelf, all his and your closest friends gathered to greet him. And of course, the impeccable two-layered strawberry chocolate sponge cake sitting on a platter that you know would excite him the most.

A smile spreads his mouth wide and square as he turns to you, his cheeks bundling up like rising bread in sheer elation.

“No you didn’t, Y/N.”

Then you’re being suffocated in a bone-crushing hug, your ribs almost cracking under his snake-like squeeze. His chest rumbles in the most boyish giggle.

“Hap-pee-burf-day-” You manage to utter as you move your arms between two to create some space for you to breathe.

Seeing Taehyung this happy, especially knowing you’re the cause of it, is truly a feeling matched by no other. You don’t have a massive squadron of friends, you are more the type to carefully select those you actually like and get along with. To put it badly, you’re picky, judgy and quite a bitch when it comes to making friends. But the few you actually care about, you love ferociously and passionately, willing to cut off your own limb for them. And Taehyung is at the top of that list.

“You’re actually the best, I love you.” When he finally lets you go from his painful but appreciated embrace, his hands rest on your waist, lingering.

You had just treated him to a birthday dinner at his favourite steakhouse, roommate to roommate, in order to enable this surprise party. A few pints might have been downed for the occasion, which explains his excessive touching. Taehyung has never been able to hold his liquor, always a lightweight. The number of times you’ve had to half-carry half-drag him out of a club and stick your fingers down his throat in a dark alley is truly embarrassing for him.

“I am the best. You’re lucky I love you too, dork.” With his nostrils flaring from excitement, you can’t help but pinch his nose before turning to the guests and properly starting the party.

To be honest, you wouldn’t have been able to pull it off without the help of anyone else. His parents have come to town to visit him during the day, so off he went to show them around the food market, the park and his favourite vintage stores. Which gave you plenty of time to set up the house, prepare the refreshments, and buy the birthday cake. But keeping him from returning home was a feat that you had to enlist his parents’ aid in, and ever the obedient son, Taehyung of course did not argue when his folks disagreed with his suggestion to go back to the apartment. Then, it was a matter of taking him to dinner, deftly urging him to meet you there rather than going together from the flat so not to miss your reservation. The rounds of alcohol and your tiny bladder slyly masked the many bathroom runs you took in order to text Lotta to gather everyone to your place. And when everything was set, you headed back with the clueless Taehyung, giddy with a belly full of Michelin star food.

It was purely out of your headstrong resistance that you two didn’t stumble into the apartment making out, exposing your on-going debauchery to all your unaware friends. He had begun to feel you up on the way home, grabbing your ass one too many times for it to be merely playful. Honestly, it’s never easy rejecting his advances, not with your nymphomaniac track record anyway. But tonight was especially difficult, knowing what you have planned for him after the party…

From the corner of your eye you see Taehyung chattering away with friends from his class, and from the way he’s waving his hands around, you can tell it’s about the latest Christmas horror story of the two of you trying to stuff a turkey.

The memory of you yelling at each other to grab-this-grab-that warms your chest more than the white wine you’re sipping on. It’s always these stupid anecdotes that mean the most.

“Looks like he’s enjoying himself.”

Lotta’s voice startles you from your thoughts. Hands held behind her shyly, she smiles at the sight of the outburst of laughter from the guests at his story.

Aside from Taehyung, you would say she’s your best friend, having gone to the same highschool together and now the same university. You knew you would be close the moment she told you her star sign - there isn’t a more iconic duo than an Aries and a Leo. She puts up with a lot of your shit but also isn’t afraid to scream some sense into you whenever you pull something rogue, which you guess is very often.

“Yep. He should probably stop drinking though.” You say as you watch him tip the contents of his glass down his throat. “I swear to god if he throws up on the couch, I’ll chop his dick off.” Of course you wouldn’t, how could you ever bring yourself to hurt that godsent meatstick that fuck tears out of you? You both giggle nonetheless.

“You’re funny with him.” Lotta is wearing a smug expression that you distinctly dislike.

“What do you mean?”

“You act like he’s some annoying brother who you hate, but then you go and take him to this boujee-ass steakhouse, throw him a surprise party and splash out on his birthday gift. You beat him up when he uses your shampoo, kick him when he accidentally scrunches up your notes, and threaten to emasculate him if he spills alcohol on your favourite couch that you treat like your newborn child. But you secretly care so much about him that I know you’d give him your kidney if he needed one.”

You blink at her.

Not quite sure what to say.

“Well, yeah, of course I care about him. Like you said, he’s a brother to me.” Okay, but do you let someone who’s just a brother to you cum on your face? “You don’t live with him so you don’t know what a useless brat he is. He burns pasta, Lotta. Pasta. Seriously, he’s such a dipshit, but of course I care about him. What’s funny about that?” Lying straight through your teeth is a Y/N specialty. As long as you say it with enough confidence, you can sell any bullshit.

But maybe you’re sounding a little defensive.

Lotta is clever, it is why you’re friends. Where this observation of hers is headed, you’re unsure of. She could turn this into a lecture about your abrasive personality, or suspect that something else is going on between you and Taehyung other than sharing rent.

“Nothing, I just said it was funny. The way you are.” Her smile tells you that it’s probably the former of the two possibilities.

“What can I say, I’m a funny person.” Not entirely buying it though, you shrug and play along.

Another bout of laughter breaks out from Taehyung and his friends, catching both your attentions. He thrives in social situations like these, good at entertaining people with his odd humour. You watch the flash of his teeth, the crinkle of his amused eyes, tongue flicking out to wet his lips every other sentence.

“You know, he actually is really hot.” Now, that you didn’t expect at all. Your head whips to face your best friend, whose eyes fixes back on yours but not before you catch her checking him out.

“Um, what?”

“I’m just saying. You can’t deny that he’s gorgeous, charming too.” Brows raised, Lotta lifts both hands up in defense when she see the arrows your glare is shooting at her. “Definitely the best looking guy I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re drunk. Since when did you admit that Taehyung is ‘hot’?” In complete ridicule, you scoff at her. Though, her point is completely 100% valid and true.

“Do you see me with a drink? I’m sober tonight, got an early shift tomorrow.”

“Why are you suddenly saying this? Weren’t you the one who wouldn’t shut up when I went to Mykonos with him because you thought I was too blinded by his looks to even know if he’s a serial killer?” Never has Lotta expressed the slightest, most remote of interest in Taehyung, not once properly acknowledging his attractiveness.

“I’m just saying. It’s a shame that you can’t see him that way anymore after spending so much time together.” It’s her turn to shrug, again with the annoying cocky expression.

Yes, after spending so much time sleeping together, more like.

“Yeah, no. That’s gross. You won’t get it because you don’t have a guy best friend. But trust me, no way would I ever go there with him.” Go ahead and call you a pathological liar, you don’t care. You’d never hear the end of it if Lotta finds out you and your ‘guy best friend’ have been knocking boots for over half a year.

You catch Taehyung glancing over to you, eyes twinkling with amusement, signalling for you to come over and join his crowd. Telepathy is one of your secret talents nowadays, you just know each other so well that spoken words are not a necessity for communication.

Taehyung watches you manoeuvre past those chattering bodies from across the room, making your way towards him with Lotta trailing behind. He knows he is definitely drunk, so it might just be the alcohol getting to his head but something looks a little different about you tonight. By that, he doesn’t mean your curled hair, or that new red dress you’re wearing that introduces your cleavage to the entire world. You’re kind of… glowing. There is a permanent smile on your face, even while resting the corners of your lips are turned up. And when you’re in a good mood, you are so transparent about it that you basically radiate like a disco ball in the room.

His chest feels warm. Maybe it’s the wine.

“Fuck, she’s so fit.”

For a second, Taehyung is worried that he thought out loud, but then realised that the voice belonged to Seojoon. He turns to his friend to find him ogling at your figure.

He doesn’t know what to say. It’s weird if he agrees. But he also doesn’t trust his inebriated state to execute a flat out lie that convincingly.

“You don’t know how lucky you are to have Y/N as your roommate, man. If it were me, I would’ve tapped that on the first night.” Seojoon continues, taking a swig of his beer.

“As if you could.” Taehyung snorts, unable to help himself. “She’s out of your league, ass.”

“Fair point. I heard she is a freak in bed, too. Do you ever hear, like, sex noises?” A freak indeed.

“Sometimes…” It’s true, even now. Occasionally he will stumble home with a girl he picked up at the bar only to hear the bed creaking furiously or breathy moans sounding from your room. Walls are thin. Sometimes it turned him on, other times it pissed him off.

“Bet you wank to it, eh? Taehyungie?” Seojoon ruffles his hair just as you and Lotta come within earshot. Liquor-brazen, he is suddenly overcome with an urge to announce to the whole room: Y/N and I are fucking. Yeah, that’s right. She’s my fuck buddy, so you can stop trying to hit on her right now because I’m gonna be the one she’s riding tonight. Seojoon, fucking suck on that. I don’t need to wank to her sex noises when I’m the one coaxing them from her.

However, a small sober part of his conscience tells him that he really shouldn’t do that; if he does, he probably won’t get any riding tonight. So he clamps his mouth shut.

You arrive amidst them in that sinful dress that reduces Taehyung to a teenage boy, and you take your turn giving them brief hugs as formalities, your best friend beside you mirroring your action. When you reach Taehyung, he pulls you in roughly by the waist, wine sloshing in his hand. From his careless force and lazy grin, you can tell he is almost completely gone. Taehyung is a wine-killer, but wine is also a Taehyung-killer.

Highly conscious of the presence of all your mates while he clearly isn’t, you pretend to roll your eyes and pry his hand off the small of your back. It doesn’t budge. So, awkwardly, with your midriff locked in Taehyung’s arm, you lean over to hug his last friend Woosik who gives you a shy pat on your shoulder.

The conversation resumes, morphing into Lotta telling everyone the most embarrassing stories of you during high school - back when you had braces and had the biggest crush on the captain of the football team. You don’t even try to deny it, laughing along at your pathetic 14 year old self. Though, you’re only half paying attention, the other half is keenly aware of the way Taehyung’s thumb is rubbing gentle circles on your pelvic bone. When you peek up at him, you find him already staring at you with eyes you know too well.

The ‘I’m gonna eat you out until you squirt’ eyes.

Fuck.

Then you notice Lotta’s sharp eyes on Taehyung’s hand gripping your waist. The ‘hold up, what could be happening over here?’ eyes.

Double fuck.

Tipping your toes, you whisper into your roommate’s clueless ear. “Let go, people are watching.” You almost allow your lips to graze his skin because you know how much it turns him on, but you remember to behave. But this close, his warm familiar scent tingles your nose in a way that makes you want to hug him.

Taehyung pulls away to look at your face, clearly displeased, then regards everyone in the circle. When he notices Lotta’s focus on the two of you, he slowly withdraws his paw, but not without purposely brushing past your ass.

.

“Strawberry-flavoured lube?”

Taehyung audibly gasps in disbelief as he tears open his poorly wrapped present.

“Yeah, you like strawberries right?” Seojoon chuckles and claps his back so violently that he falls forwards. On the other side of him, you haul him back up onto the sofa.

Everyone is gathered around the pile of birthday gifts on the coffee table, but not before witnessing you scold Woosik for not leaving his drink on the kitchen island from which the couch is a safe distance to prevent any spillage. Lotta just laughed at your fixation.

So far, the array of presents Taehyung has received ranges from Amazon vouchers, to expensive whiskey, to a funky tie. Yours sit furthest away from him, which he practically leapt in excitement when he saw the size of, only to be forced to open it last because you insist it’s going to be the best one.

“You’re insufferable, Seojoon.” Taehyung rolls his eyes yet fails to suppress his grin. Oh, you’re definitely trying out the lube at some point.

After ripping into a couple more, he finally arrives at your present for him. It spans an entire arm’s length; you know every guest must be wondering to themselves what it could possibly be. Taehyung drops onto his knees before it and carefully peels away the tape this time, knowing it probably took you awhile to wrap it up this neatly. You watch his long cautious fingers reveal the gift you had spent weeks raking your head for.

“Stop…” His eyes light up at the polished cedar easel that he caresses over as gentle as he would your skin. But as he continues to unwrap the present, a box of oil paints, a wooden palette and a set of 16 expensive natural fibre brushes are unveiled. “Oh my god, there’s more?”

Ceasing in action, he looks up at you, jaw so slack you bet you can throw a pea into his mouth even with your bad aim. The surprise on his face, almost a replica of his expression when everyone jumped out at him and yelled ‘Happy Birthday’ an hour ago. Except this time there is something more tender about how his wide pupils bore into yours. It makes you squirm.

Then without warning, he dives onto you, crushing you in the most fatal of embraces; you swear something in your spine cracked as you fall back onto the cushions, suffocated. People let out a sound of amusement at your struggle, but with his warm breath fanning your neck, you don’t even hear them.

After allowing this sweet painful moment for a few seconds more, you shove Taehyung’s heavy body off you, harder than you need so he slumps onto Seojoon.

“You’re actually the best, I love you.” He squeals like a boy on Christmas day before examining the paintbrushes with the utmost careful touch, as if afraid he would bend the bristles the wrong way.

What is he so cute for?

You kind of really want to pat his head and kiss his cheek right now. But there’s an audience obstructing.

Looking up, you lock eyes with Lotta. She is smiling, endeared by the purity of his reaction as well. See, not even she is immune his stupid cuteness. How are you supposed to?

Taehyung’s heart is constricting as he strokes the fine wooden edge of the giant disassembled easel. Of course, you know him better than any of his other friends. He has recently expressed an interest in painting, though his love for art and sophistication has been harbouring for a while now. He has only ever made subtle comments about wanting to properly get into it but not having the proper equipment to and not knowing the best brand to purchase. Yet you had picked up on it nevertheless. Everything combined must have costed you a significant portion of your allowance. Even he would not have splashed out this much on himself.

He turns back to you again from where he kneels in front of the coffee table. You are observing him with a thing he wishes to be adoration, a glimmer in your smile that wears more beautiful than any dress on you. For a second, there’s a flutter in his stomach and it confuses him because it feels an awful lot like butterflies.

But then you kick his back with the heel of your foot to get him to stand and Taehyung remembers that you are best friends. He’s not supposed to be thinking like that.

.

After cutting the cake, with food being a major satisfaction factor of any party, everyone sort of just hovers, huddled in their little groups with their plate of dessert in one hand, while they resume their conversation. The music is turned up loud so they all have to half-yell; some don’t even bother talking as they dig in, you included.

Being a quiet eater that you are, you stand by the island counter, sipping your wine in between bites of that chocolate decadence. Taehyung approaches you with his already empty plate; you haven’t even made it through half your slice yet. Judging by the lethargy in his step and that icing-slathered grin he has worn the entire night, you can tell he was the one who finished the second bottle of wine you opened.

“Hey.” Your fingers do a weird little wave that is so completely uncharacteristic, but tipsy-Y/N is sort of that friendly and laid back.

“Hey, pretty.” His hand trails around the corner of the counter surface and traps you between it and his body as he comes up behind you. Immediately you stiffen, looking around to see if anyone, especially Lotta, is looking. But when you find everyone preoccupied either with each other or the cake, your shoulders relax.

“What’s up? You having a good time?” Twisting to face him, you edge back until the counter digs into your back. Taehyung’s face is a dangerous proximity to yours.

The anticipation for the night you have planned for him in your bedroom thrums in your core. Patience has never been one of your strengths, and right now it is testing your very limit. You could kick everyone out right now if you really wanted to. But you won’t. You’ll wait.

You wipe the chocolate off the corner of his mouth with a swipe, the gesture you can’t tell if motherly or romantic. And just because Taehyung is peering down at you so longingly, you flick your tongue out and suck the sweetness on your thumb.

His breath hitches.

“Uh- I…” For a second, all thought is scattered in his brain, and you almost laugh aloud at how susceptible he is to your attacks. “Yeah, of course. I’m having the best time.”

“Am I the best roommate ever or what?” You watch his eyes trained on your mouth. From his alcohol scent, you don’t trust him to have enough restraint not to kiss you right now so you turn your back to him and rest your elbows upon the island top, leaning over to finish your cake.

In your peripheral vision, you spy his hands crawling towards your sides to cinch around your waist, his front pressing into you as he holds you from behind. The warmth of his body seeps into your back, and you swear you can feel the beating of his chest against your shoulder blades. A tingle shoots straight down your spine when he plants a soft, brief kiss on the shell of your ear.

Good thing you turned around then, your intuition was right. Taehyung has never been able to suppress his overt affection after a few drinks, and certainly not after this many. And no matter how much you want to just turn around and pull him into your lips, you fight it.

“Babe...” He groans into your ear and though it was barely audible even to you, you quickly glance up to see if anyone has heard. Of course, no one heard, they are all stood far enough that even without the music, they’d have to strain their ears to hear his whisper. Paranoia is eating your head away.

“Don’t ‘babe’ me, Taehyung.” Your heart is racing, which is weird because you swear you used to be completely immune to his charms. “You’re being too obvious, babe.”

“You don’t ‘babe’ me. I can’t control myself when you call me that.” The warmth of his breath fans all over the back of your neck, sending a convulsion of shivers down your spine.

One of his hands stretches for your wine glass, but knowing him well enough to predict it, you draw it away from his reach. “Stop drinking, you’re literally about to pass out.”

“No, you’re about to pass out. On my-” hiccup, “dick.” You keep your eyes locked on the crowd, ready to shove Taehyung away if anyone looks your way. But still, you can’t help but lean back into him.

“That made no sense.” You chuckle, fingers brushing over the smooth thin skin of this hand.

“Just one sip.”

“Taehyung. Stop. Drinking.” You grab his hand that tries to make a run for the wine again.

“But, Y/N…” He whines and slumps onto you, knowing that whining has gotten him what he wanted before.

You turn around, grab his face and pull him towards you until your mouth is brushing his earlobe. “Be a good boy and stop drinking if you want the best birthday sex of your life after this party. You better not get whiskey dick because a have a lot planned for you.”

At that, Taehyung stops breathing, stops resisting. Against your shoulder, you feel his chest jump. “Oh. Um. Okay, yup, no more drinking. Got it, ma’am.”

He sighs, completely at your disposal, as your touch trails from the sensitive side of his neck down to his torso. “Good.” After looking around again to check that no one is looking, you press your alcohol-infused lips onto his hastily, savouring his softness for no longer than a few seconds before pulling away. God, is it difficult to pull away. You’re aching for him. “Go entertain the guests while you sober up.”

Satisfied grin from the kiss stretched across his face, he nods obediently and scampers over to his friends.

.

“Are you ready yet?” Taehyung calls, impatient and giddy, the music that you’ve put on playing softly in the background.

“Give me one more second.” You reply from the bathroom, doing up your last button and regarding yourself in the mirror. Hm, not bad. You’re pleased with how this turned out, if you do say so yourself. Taehyung is going to lose his mind.

Sheer black stockings stretched thin over your legs, you strut into his room where he is seated on a chair in nothing but his boxers, wrists shackled to the back. When his eyes land on you, a strangled noise emits from his throat.

“Holy. Fuck. Holy fuck. Holyfuckholyfuckholyfuck.” He chokes out.

The checkered material of your school skirt flies up at your every step teasingly, not high enough for him to peek your panties, but enough for your thighs to be flaunted.The clip of your stockings sit cool and beguiling on your quads. First two buttons of your white blouse undone, the matching red tartan tie hangs loosely around your neck between your exposed, pushed up cleavage. Your hair is tied into two school-girl braids, decorated in ribbons.

You’re Taehyung’s walking talking fantasy.

Innocent, chaste, ready for him to defile.

“Sir.” You address him, committing to your character, as you bow your head in courtesy.

Taehyung doesn’t appear capable of words, Adam’s apple wobbling in awe. So you continue your approach, making sure to regard him with large, demure eyes. As you sink down onto your knees between his widespread trembling legs, you notice a prominence already erecting in his boxers. You try not to smirk.

“What can I do for you, sir?” You put on your sweetest, most virgin of voices and bat your lashes once at him.

Chest rising quickly, Taehyung gulps as he realises that he’s most definitely going about to have the best sex of his life. “Um. Uh. Um.”

Smiling at his malfunctioning cognition, no thanks to you, you decide to help him out a little. “I’ve been sent to you for being a bad girl, sir.”

Do you find this slightly humiliating and degrading? Yes, you’re a woman of pride and a feminist. But does Taehyung’s birthday outweigh your morals? Yes, if only just for this night.

“What… What did you do, baby girl?” Voice dangerously deep, Taehyung watches you from his handcuffed posture, watches you twirl your braids in your fingers before they move sensual down your front, curving over your breasts and travelling to your core.

“It’s embarrassing to say but…” You look down in feign shame. “I touched myself.”

His whole frame tenses, arms straining to be freed from the cuffs so he can throw you onto the bed and fuck you mercilessly. His lips are parted, breath unsteady, cheeks still slightly stained from the alcohol but you made sure that he’s mostly sober by now. “Why did you touch yourself?”

“I was thinking about you, sir, and I just couldn’t help myself. Something started tickling down there and it felt so good to touch it.” Biting your lip, your fingers reach your clit over your skirt and start rubbing. The other hand traces swirls slowly up his thighs, higher and higher, until he’s buckling his hips.

“Wait, pause.” He says, your touch ceasing at his command. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m not going to last if you do this to me. I might even cum my pants.”

Usual smugness returning as you smirk up at him, your teeth digs deeper into your lower lip, refusing to break character. “Well, it’s a good thing we have all night then, sir. A water hose doesn’t just fire once does it?”

“Fuck.” Shutting his eyes, his head falls back to reveal his gulping jugular. Already so malleable? Yeah, he’s definitely not going to last. The first round. “Okay, okay. Resume.”

Your fingers reach the hem of his boxers, skimming through his tan, lustrous inner thighs. He jerks, his hard member jabbing out the soft cotton, begging to be freed. “So I was wondering if there is any way I could get out of this punishment, sir. My parents can’t find out that I’ve been a bad girl. I’ll do anything you want me to do, sir.”

“I see, Miss Y/L/N… How about, you warm up my lap for me first? I’m feeling slightly cold.” He wets his lips and bounces on his toes, his hard length jolting along with his legs.

“Oh, of course, sir.” When you stand up, you make sure to do it slowly, curving your body towards him to give him a good look at your breasts. He doesn’t miss the chance to devour them with his eyes.

Your hips begin to sway in the rhythm of the slow sensual music while you turn until your back faces him. You feel his glare immediate follow your ass, skirt sloshing side to side to reveal your plush cheeks. But rather than falling onto his lap as he wants, you stride over his leg, hand trailing across his chest as you begin to walk around him.

Massaging up his bicep, your hand arrives at his collar as you lick a thin strip up his neck. Taehyung shudders, struggling against his handcuffs again, cursing. “I can do anything you want me to, sir.” He shivers as you whisper into his ear, teeth grazing his skin. Your own heart is racing from excitement. Maybe you should do this more often. It’s selfish of you to do so since it’s meant to be his birthday sex after all, but you enjoy having him helt under you, seconds away from whimpering, gone be his natural preference for dominance.

As you walk around him, his head turns with you, not wishing for his sight to miss a second of this private show. Patience isn’t something he’s born with, he is a man who’s used to ceasing everything he wants. You know what must be going through his head right now, the anticipation, the hunger. So finally, when you’ve done a full circle around, hands not once missing the opportunity to feather his chest, you decide to ease him a little.

Deliberately unrushed, you sit inch by inch down onto his lap until his dick is burrowed between your warm cheeks underneath your skirt.

“Baby…” Taehyung immediately sits up, mouth arriving at the back of your neck, exhaling his hot fervour. The feeling of his skin pressed on the strip of yours between your skirt and cropped blouse has you craving for him to pound into you right now. Nothing can describe the flash of desire you get when you feel the touch of his naked body.

Then you begin to roll your hips, drawing loops of infinity with your ass to the beat of the song. The groan you elicit makes your cunt pulse. Taehyung’s stiff length jerks between your wiggling ass. His head falls onto your shoulder in a huff, metallic sound of his chains ringing as his arms clench.

“Sir, is that warm enough?” Your hips are merciless, rock back and forth, providing him with the friction he so craves. Hell, maybe you should start doing this for a living.

“Y… Yeah.” There is defeat in his voice, a croak that tells you that you’re the only woman to ever put him in his place like this. The only he’d ever submit to.

Slowly, you peel yourself off his lap, delighting in the small stained spot on his boxers, evidence of his drooling dick. You sink onto your knees before him again, fingers crawling playfully up his thighs. “You seem a little stiff, sir. Do you want me to ease some tension in your muscles for you?”

“Please be a dear.” The fervour in his eyes as he gazes down at you is pure, undiluted. It stirs something beastly inside you.

You’ve sucked Taehyung off a hundred times before, but something about the fact that he’s handcuffed to a chair on his birthday, almost cumming his pants, makes you especially eager this time.

A string of precum greets you as you take his lividly throbbing cock out of its restraints. You spare it a few pumps before you enclose the warm wet cave of your mouth around it. It’s perhaps evil of you, but you cut to the chase and go straight to deep-throating. He lets out a yelp of surprise when his tip slides smoothly through and hits the back of your throat. He’s going to cum soon, might as well give him your all, right?

Your mouth has gotten used to resisting the gag reflexes by now, engulfing him like a strawberry ice lolly during the summer heat. The occasional scrape of your teeth, just the way he loves, has him shiver beneath you. If he likes it rough, he should be able to take it rough. And when your tongue begins its inexorable attack at the pinch of skin where his tip ties to his shaft, Taehyung lets out a throaty cry. Not even a moan, a cry.

“Fuck, I’m losing my mind. Y/N, oh my god, keep going.” Through your curled lashes, you gaze up at him. His brows furrowed, guzzling up his favourite view in the world, maybe second to you riding him. Jaw unscrewed, he heaves at your large feign-innocent eyes, wrists dying to be freed so he could fuck your mouth.

Two throbs at the base of his cock, and he’s cumming right down your throat. It’s a larger load that either of you’d expected, telling of his obscene concupiscence. There’s so much cum that you can’t swallow, so you have no choice but to let it flow down his cock. With you still staring at him, he watches his white hot fluid dribble out your mouth and onto him, his features screwed tight in pleasure.

“Lick it off, baby.” Taehyung rasps, half his mind completely gone, dilapidated.

You hum as you spread his liquid around his tip and along his shaft, lips now glossy, before you slowly lap it all up. You know he is particularly sensitive after cumming, so you wallow in teasing his head a bit more, watching him writhe on his seat, whining your name. “Sir, how was that?”

Taehyung’s head is tossed back, eyes shut to recover from that post-orgasm intensity. He doesn’t speak at first, still trying to piece back together his mind. “I… That was… You deserve a worse punishment for doing that to me.”

Your core twists in excitement.

Briskly, you fish out the key to his handcuffs and unlock him, thrumming from the molten fury in his eyes. “What did I do wrong, sir?”

As soon as his wrists are free from their shackles, Taehyung stands and throws you over his shoulders. Smack. He hits your ass, your skirt doing little to soften the blow. You never knew yourself to be a masochist until it comes to Taehyung; his are the only hands you’d allow to spank you.

Then he tosses you onto the bed, your skirt flying up to reveal your peachy ass as you land on your front. “You just love it when I’m under your control, don’t you? Even this innocent school-girl roleplay is just a disguise to get me to beg for you, isn’t it?”

Twisting your head back, a smirk plays at your lips as you regard his frustrated yet immensely pleased expression. His fingers glide up your silky stockings enticingly, sending shivers coursing up your legs. “Sir, I have no idea what you mean.”

“Look at your fucking ass in this skirt, holy fuck.” He begins to knead the supple flesh of your behind, pushing up the skirt until it sit on your lower back.

Another smack.

He’s such an ass man through and through.

“Do you like my uniform, sir?” You moan between his smacks. Nothing really is compelling you to continue with this roleplay, but something tells you that Taehyung is bursting from it.

“I fucking love it, baby girl.” Smack. You can practically hear him grinning in satisfaction. His palm massages the redness he inflicted like smearing paint, touch growing closer and closer to your core.

Then with one push at your inner thighs, he spreads your legs wide open.

“Fucking hell. Crotchless? You’re really spoiling me tonight.” Like a little boy on Christmas Day, he marvels at your glistening slit, gaping at him in anticipation. Another small surprise for him.

“Of course- ahh!” You break into a moan when he runs two fingers down your folds, all the way to your bulging clit. “For the birthday boy.”

“Okay, now you definitely deserve the best head.” He lies on his front and grips onto your thighs to pull himself up to face level with your cunt.

You won’t tell him to prevent further ego inflation but every head he gives is the best head.

“Wait, Taehyung, it’s your birthday. Just let me-” You squirm in his clutch, trying to flip around, but he holds you still.

“Exactly. My birthday. I get to eat you out if I want to. It’s what my baby girl deserves.” For some reason, you blush. Who are you to resist head, especially from Taehyung?

Heat of his breath tickling your entrance, you plant your face onto the pillow and clamp down on your lip, preparing for that mind-twisting sensation that has a way of robbing you of sanity. His mouth finds your thighs first, kissing, sucking, blooming roses of his affection. You let him mark you - you are completely his tonight. Then his breath arrives at the sensitive crevice where your folds begin, a slow seduction towards your tingling bud. When he finally latches onto your clit, your eyes roll to the back of your empty head, a whimper ensuing.

His tongue is a predatory serpent, ceaselessly rolling your bud in his mouth. He’s rough, generous with the waves of pleasure he sends. You wish you aren’t lying on your front right now, just so you can look down at his concentrated face and pull on his wavy mop of hair.

With every flick of his tongue, you swim closer to your orgasm. His fingers are digging to your thighs, his breath quickening with his face buried in you. When he adds his long slender digits, you know your demise is round the corner.

“Fuck, daddy.” You yell into the pillow, that name coming so naturally to you that it requires zero brain processing to leave you.

Taehyung hums in response, those baritone vibrations shaking into your core until your leg involuntarily kicks back. Gripping onto the sheets, a string of profanities expel from you as that euphoric current comes crashing onto you, drowning your surroundings so that all you feel is his face, his tongue, his teeth, still mercilessly going despite your state.

“Fuck!” A tear slips from the violent stimulation at your clit continuing past your orgasm. You guess it’s payback.

Not one minute later, a second climax hits you, this time stronger than the last as it rides on the residual pleasure. The orgasm disperses into tension down your thighs, dying for more friction to relieve your cunt of the blissful ache. Warm tears stain the pillowcase your face is buried in, your cries muffled.

His pace gradually decelerates into soft kisses on your flower, fingers withdrawing to massage your folds. You are motionless, completely depleted after the dopaminergic release. Delicately, his lips travel up to your ass, where he sucks more colours as he awaits your recovery.

“How was that, baby girl?” Taehyung slowly turns you over onto your back, a lazy grin on his glistening mouth, your wetness slathered all over his nose. It views in your eyes as a display of your possession. You don’t miss the triumph in his gaze; you wonder if he likes making you cum more than cumming himself.

“Your mouth is fucking incredible.” You bask in the post-orgasm high, pulling him atop you, hand locking in his curls. You taste yourself as you kiss him, slowly and lethargically, your energy ebbing back to you.

“Yeah?” He smiles against your lips. “You know what’s incredible? You in this fucking uniform.” Pulling away, he scans your body top to bottom. And as you follow his gaze, you notice his hardened cock, once again ready for another round. You surprise yourself with how ready you are to take him, exhaustion not yet settled in from his overstimulation.

“You like it that much?” You press your lips together, and as used to Taehyung’s constant flattery as you should be, you still feel proud.

Taehyung nestles his face onto your neck. “If we went to high school together, I would 100% have been your bitch. Not a single doubt. Whipped.”

Your heart squeezes. Whipped.

You kiss his hair, resisting the urge to make a comment about what he said. “Haha. I would not have noticed you, I was obsessed with the captain of the football team.”

Taehyung lifts his head up, frowning at you with a playful annoyance. “Are you sure you want to mention another man in front of me right now?” For emphasis of his possessive mood, he grinds his member into your thigh. You can’t help but push back to feel him digging into you. Possessive Taehyung toys with your strings.

“Yeah, what are you going to do about it?” You taunt further, pulling on his locks. Taehyung’s competitiveness is an easy target for manipulation; everytime he starts to go soft and sappy on you, all you have to do is tug on his jealousy and the bull will come charging back full force.

Surely enough, he growls into your ear. “Don’t forget who you’re speaking to, miss. You wouldn’t want your parents knowing the naughty things you’ve been up to, would you?” So he does love the roleplay. His tone slightly sarcastic, but also not really. But before you can hiss a witty response, he silences you with his teeth on your neck. As he sucks on your tender skin, your nails rake across his back in pleasure. He’s growing bolder with his territory.

“More hickeys?” You purr, not exactly in the complaining tone you’d wished it would come out in.

“Yeah, what are you going to do about it?” He mocks, leaving a wet purple trail across your throat.

You allow it for the sole reason that it’s his birthday. Otherwise, you’d be kicking off.

You’ve never liked the idea of hickeys, the notion that someone feels entitled to mark your skin as theirs. You don’t belong to anyone. This is your own skin, and no one else’s. Yet - right now, as Taehyung nips at your neck, hand yanking on your uniform’s tie to pull you closer to him, you feel like you do belong…

You don’t finish that thought.

Reaching down, you begin stroking his patiently awaiting cock. “You’re brave for someone who’s dick is in my hands.”

Taehyung breaks away from your neck and reviews his work of art. The wolfish grin an indication of his pride. “You’re going to kill me tomorrow.” He says without the fear that should come with such statement.

Yes, you’re definitely going to.

“Then fuck me until I forgive you.” You challenge, unbuttoning the first button of your shirt while your stroking quickens.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Fingers scrambling to undo the rest of your shirt, his mouth finds yours again, sucking on your bottom lip until it’s sure to swell later. Your bra falls loose with a dexterous flick, a gesture he can do in his sleep. Yet, he makes no move to remove your checkered tie at all.

When you try to loosen it yourself, he grabs your hand and pins it against the pillow. “That stays on tonight, along with the skirt and the stockings.” Voice laced with carnality, there’s a feral glint in his glare.

“Yes, sir.” Smile unstifled, you fall back into obedience.

Taehyung dares to plant more bitemarks down your chest before taking your nipple in his mouth, tormenting the sensitive bud relentlessly. Patience wearing thin, you line his tip with your slit, dallying it around to coat it with your dampness.

“Wait, grab a condom.” He mutters.

“Don’t need one.”

He looks up, confused. “What? Why?”

“I started taking the pill. Surprise.”

The look of pure shock and delight that usurps his face, for the third? fourth? time tonight, sows a seed of joy in your core.

“Wait, seriously?” You swear you feel his cock twitch happily in your hand. That stupid boxy grin that makes him look like a kid again… You want to kiss him dizzy.

“Yes, seriously.” You would never admit that you started taking contraception solely for Taehyung, because that would be weird, you absolutely did not do it for Taehyung. You’d always wanted to start contraception anyway. This was your own decision, influenced by no one else.

Certainly. No one else. Of course.

“Holy fucking shit. Y/N, you’re amazing.” Taehyung cannot contain his glee despite its juxtaposition with his pulsating cock about to enter you any moment now. “All this for me?” He asks, still in disbelief, as if the answer isn’t already written in big bold black letters.

“For the birthday boy, and the birthday boy only.” Your nose grazes his. These are the very words you’d be embarrassed to be caught saying to any guy, yet you’re currently too fuelled by the desire to please him to berate yourself.

Without another second gone to waste, Taehyung pushes his girthy member into your heat. Though it glides in with ease, your walls are stretched so wide that your inside stir, a sore pressure squeezing around him with each thrust. You always seem to forget how well he fits into you, and so each time comes as an eye-rolling surprise - the way he fills you so completely and entirely with his hefty cock.

“Oh fuck, you feel so-” He doesn’t manage to finish his sentence, too caught up in the raw unobstructed sensation of your slick walls.

Lifting your leg over his shoulder, the cavernous angle allows him to jolt deeper into you, his tip violently punching through you. While one hand remains on your ankle, the other twists your tie around his wrist and pulls as if it were a leash. “Sir…” You choke out at the constriction around your throat.

“Are you going to bad girl again?” He grunts, sweat beading on his forehead while he continues to ram his hips.

“No, sir. I won’t touch myself again,” you moan under him, “unless you are watching.”

“Fuck, Y/N.” One eye shut, Taehyung sticks his thumb into your mouth to suckle on. Your tongue swirls around his finger, biting down every time you need to shriek in pleasure.

After a while, he flips your bodies over so that you are riding him, watching, mesmerised, as your breasts bounce freely each time you spring on his dick. Your body falls back at the rippling coil inside you, hands braced on the mattress to keep you upright.

Taehyung could watch you ride him for the rest of his life. Hell, if he has a heart attack and dies this very moment, he would die the happiest man.

Sometimes, while you’re fucking, Taehyung gets a sudden rush of jealousy. Jealous that he wasn’t the one to ruin your innocence. Jealous that someone else other than him got to, or still gets to, fuck you like this.

He pulls on your tie so that you fall over him, lips colliding to remind himself that he’s the one fucking you right now, the rest shouldn’t matter. The way you moan into him reassures that no one has ever, or can ever, fuck you the way he does.

Then a messy whimper leaves you like a symphony, and for the third time tonight, you come undone, unravelled.

“Fu-u-u-uckkk.” You cry, arms looping around Taehyung’s neck, holding on as if he’s your lifeline because you yourself are unsure how much of this you can take before you drown.

“Baby, you’re so good, cumming for me again.” He sings, knowing that words like these thrums something in your core. You lap up his praise, smiling against his teeth despite yourself. It’s honestly a miracle how your usual brusque controlling self is suddenly transformed into his docile little girl, especially after a round of orgasms. “I’m going to cum again too.”

“Daddy, fuck, please. Cum inside me.” You pant, hips bouncing as fast as your aching muscles allow. Truth be told, no one has ever finished inside you before. And you are dying to find out how it feels.

Taehyung seems to know this. He grabs onto your waist, holding you in place, and plunges unforgivingly into you, penetrating your walls so ardently that you are shoved near the brink of yet another orgasm.

A grumble rippling through the room, finally, you feel a hot jet shoot into you, squirt after squirt of his thick cum filling you up. He frowns, a hoarse cry from the immense pleasure arriving at his cock, taking over him. Fucking hell, this is hot.

And kind of really intimate.

However, you notice that his pace has yet to slacken.

“I’m not done with you yet.” His eyes open to reveal pupils glowing with vehemence. Your clit throbs.

Still inside you, he turns you over so that you are both on your sides spooning, one of your legs hoisted up by his rough grip. The slap of your skin rings crisp and clear as he continues to fuck you. You lean back into him, ignoring the sticky coat of sweat coalescing your skins. His cum lubricates each thrust as you feel some spill out of you. His fingers start to stimulate your clit to help you reach your ultimate climax, viciously rubbing your sensitive swollen bud so much that you begin to see stars.

For him to keep fucking you even after cumming despite his tremendous sensitivity… Taehyung is going wild tonight.

“Are you going to cum one last time for me, baby girl?” He pants heavily in your ear.

“Yes, daddy.” Your own cunt is leaking profusely its tears of joy; you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet before.

In a few more thrusts, Taehyung is cumming inside you again, this time naturally less than the last, yet from his loud coarse groan, you deduce is much more intense. He pounds slowly yet robustly, milking every last drop into you. Due to the sheer oversensitivity, he has no choice but to pull out of you immediately after, leaving a spurt of his cum surging out of you.

“Oh my god.” He moans into your neck, both your heads spinning from the vigour of your intercourse.

But he knows you’re still a minute away from your orgasm. And never one to disappoint, he quickly sits up and spreads your legs open.

“Holy fuck.” Taehyung freezes at the sight of his cum slowly trickling out of you. To him, it’s a sign of possession, ownership. Apart from his ex, he has never fucked without protection, certainly not those random one night stands. To him, it’s a sign of intimacy.

Catching his white liquid in two fingers, he inserts it into your already gaping mouth, smearing it all over your tongue. In your cute little braids, you swallow it willingly, and Taehyung swears that he could fuck you again right then and there.

“You like that?” He asks, sticky fingers entering your core, feeling how clenched you are due to the pent up pressure.

“Mhmm.” You nod, hips lifting off the bed so that he can reach deeper. His thumb massages your clit, long digits moving in a come hither motion, stretching your walls in cusps that his cock did not have the ductility to reach. “Ahh, shit.”

Determination worn on his face despite his tiring limbs, Taehyung fucks you with his finger as you thrash beneath him. Your clit is already exploding with sensitivity from the previous rounds, and on top of that, with his thick knuckles push into you again and again, you are clawing at him while your whole body convulses.

The coil within your finally snaps. The ecstatic sensation exploding within you, flooding your every fibre until tears spring out your eyes. A clear liquid shoots out of you to both your surprises, and sprays its droplets towards Taehyung. His eyes widen, marvelling at your beauty as you cum not only on his fingers but all over him.

“Jesus Christ!” Chuffed with himself evidently, he leans in to kiss you, deep and desperate, while his fingers slow their steady thrusts to let you ride out the remainder of your high. His mouth is warm, a familiar taste as you regain your sense of self and surrounding that you tend to lose during sex.

As your brain begins to function again, the first thought you register is how much you don’t want to stop kissing Taehyung, how much you don’t want to let go of him.

“Taehyung…” You whine, bottom lip in the possession of his teeth.

“Feeling good?” He lets go of his bite, but lips remain dearly magnetised to yours. Dragging out his fingers, the wet noises of your clenched walls ring. Taehyung sucks on his dripping digits as you push his sweat-dampened fringe out of his face to survey his eyes. Full of yearning. And the way he is sucking… appears almost as a last display of submission after completely ruining you. A last shred of I’m yours.

“So.” You peck him. “Fucking.” Another. “Good.” Peck. Your bodies naked, your skirt creased and skin claggy, you refuse to release each other from your embrace. “But Taehyung…”

“What it is, my baby?” From on top of you, he is looking down at you as if you’re some delicate little buttercup in a barren field, a ray of joy radiating from his smile.

You tense. My baby.

You two might be kind of screwed...

But you’ll think about that another time. Right now, you just want to be held and kissed and looked after.

“It’s not fair. This was meant for you, but you made it about me.” You don’t know what’s taken over you but you pout at him, the same way he would do to you when he wanted something. But why, of course, it’s just like Taehyung to make you come four times despite it being his birthday sex. You don’t even know what to expect for your own birthday.

His own hair dishevelled, he tucks your loose braids behind your ears, a gesture of affection. “Nothing gets me off more than making you feel good. This was about me. This was everything I wanted. Best sex I’ve ever had. But in what world would my best sex not include making you squirt?”

Your don’t know why but you feel incredibly vulnerable right now, your hard edges softening. It’s the after-sex glow that you’re seeing everything in. You feel warm, bubbly, tender.

And now your chest feels weird, like something itching to rupture out of your ribcage. You want it to stop, yet also don’t.

“Taehyung…” You whine his name again. “No fair… You can’t be like this.” Your brain offers no explanation as to why you’ve adopted his usual saccharine manner, other than the fact that he has fucked you completely senseless.

“Like what?” He asks, egging the rare words of sweetness out of you.

“Like… You know… So giving and nice and perf…” Your voice trails off when you notice his excited smirk. God, what the fuck are you saying? You flush in embarrassment.

“Perf…? His smug grin only grows at your shyness.

“Stop. You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Stop teasing me.” Taehyung chuckles at your frustration, taking the chance to kiss the tip of your nose before you try to squirm out of his arms like a cat.

“No, go on. You need to be better with your words. Tell me how you feel.”

Your entire face is heated.

“I… You’re just… You treat me so well. How am I supposed to sleep with anyone else anymore?” You immediately wish you didn’t say it out loud. Because your phrasing implies that you want monogamy, commitment. It’s not what you meant at all, you don’t think. You just meant… You don’t know what you just meant.

You search his eyes frantically, in fear that he’s thinking the same, only to find them calm, content. “I mean, I guess I’m pretty fucking awesome. Thanks.”

Rolling your eyes, you’re grateful for his childish humour obstructing any serious consideration of your words.

“Don’t make me take it back, moron.” You scoff, pinching his round cheek between your knuckles.

“Too bad, it’s my birthday, everything I say is the law.” Still hovering over you, he presses gentle kisses all over your face, delighting in the way you pretend to hate it even though you can’t suppress the smile. When he stops, his face is sincere, the playfulness gone. “Y/N.”

“What?”

“Thank you so much, honestly, from the bottom of my heart. This was… the best birthday I’ve ever had. Not just the sex, but the whole time with you, the dinner, the party, everything.” Your heartbeat quickens, unable to hold his gaze so you focus on the curve of his collarbone instead. “Even better than the pirate-themed birthday party my parents threw me when I turned eight.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Honoured. It was my pleasure.”

“Seriously, I lov-”

Taehyung catches himself before he could finish that sentence. Those unspoken words hang over your heads like a puppet.

Because for some reason, although you’ve said ‘I love you’ to each other a plethora of times in the past, this time feels like a different connotation is implicated. The line between platonic love and romantic love feels blurred. And neither of you know which love is meant.

Taehyung is a sentimental guy, you tell yourself. Of course he means he loves you as his best friend. And that’s surely what you mean too when your eyes are pleading him to keep kissing you.

There’s a moment of silence, for you both to gather your scattered thoughts, staring at each other, unsure what to say.

You clear your throat, dispelling the tension in the air.

“Lets go clean up.”

“Yeah.” Taehyung rolls off you, avoiding your eye as much as you are avoiding his.

The clean up is wordless, both pretending to be too preoccupied to spare the unspoken words any thought.

Except they’re all that’s playing at your mind.

Taehyung didn’t mean it like that. Taehyung doesn’t love you like that. You’re just overthinking. And he’s overthinking about you overthinking. You two are fine, you’re normal.

Examining the purple clouds he had imprinted on you, a stream down your neck, a cluster around your breasts, then the large ones between your thighs, you’re surprised to find not one drip of annoyance. A scary thought dawns on you. What if you like them? What if you like being marked by Taehyung?

What the fuck is happening?

You wait for him to crack a joke to ease up the awkwardness, glancing up at him in the mirror as you dry your hands on the towel by the sink. He doesn’t. Instead, he’s perched on the edge of the bath tube. Zoned out.

Have you finally taken it too far? Finally overstepped that hazy nebulous line that you perhaps should have set more clear?

“Hey, Taehyung.” His head snaps up at you, eyes large with uncertainty. “You okay?”

You want to reach out to touch him, brush his cheek, kiss his forehead. But you hold back. Not wanting to fuel the fire of confusion. But then he tugs you towards him by the hem of your skirt, corner of his lips turning up, imbuing you with a gust of relief.

“Just thinking.” His fingers crawl up your legs, holding onto your hips like his hands belong to nowhere else. “Come here.”

Chest pounding, you walk towards him, let him sit you down on his lap. Though you wish not to look at him with his face so close to yours, your eyes cannot pull away from his striking beauty. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, but Taehyung’s feel more like the front door to your home. When you look into them, no matter how you’re feeling, whether you’d been fighting or kissing, you just feel embraced in a cloud of clarity, security.

You don’t want to think about the complication between you two at the moment. You just want to be looking at him, touching him, holding him.

You watch him glance at your lips, hesitancy playing at his mind. You know he’s thinking the same.

“We’re okay, right?” Throat tight, you ask, rather pointlessly.

“Of course. We’re great, same old us.” His arm around your waist feels warm and safe, and when your mirror his growing smile, you almost believe him.

But when your lips gently press against his, you know it’s a lie.

You’re not the same old you.

Taehyung feels different. Skin smoother, tastes sweeter, mouth softer. The roughness of his usual kisses is gone, replaced by an inexplicable tenderness that makes you feel things in your gut. You swat those feelings away.

Something is changing. And as much as you don’t want to acknowledge it, you don’t think you can ignore its booming presence.

You don’t dare make a sound as he carries you back to his room. You don’t protest when he throws one of his t-shirts over your head. Nor when he holds you into his chest, lips tracing your forehead with a soft sleepy smile.

Noting that you’re being uncharacteristically quiet, he pokes the nub of your nose. “Who stole your tongue?”

Act normal. Just be your loud annoying self.

“Uh… You.” You murmur, unable to meet his eye even with strenuous effort

Well, fuck.

“Okay, let me give it back to you.” Before you can protest, he is kissing you again. And you want to push him away because you feel your heart lurching to your throat, and you don’t think it is healthy. But your feeble hand that was meant to shove him off lands weakly on his pec, and somehow with a mind of its own, snakes up to his neck and pulls him in. His tongue unfurls onto yours, gently sweeping away any logic.

When his lips finally leave yours, you’re out of breath.

You don’t know what’s happened to you. Since when did you react like this to Taehyung?

Forcing your usual smirk, you try to wear a convincing facade that you feel nothing out of the ordinary. “I’m expecting great things for my birthday, though to be honest this is going to be hard to beat.” The underlying dishonesty tastes sour. You’ve never had to put on a front with Taehyung, and doing so now feels… alien.

“I’ll start planning it tomorrow, don’t you worry, your highness.” Taehyung pretends to roll his eyes at your demand, though the circles he’s rubbing down your back is telling of his genuinity. He isn’t an classically romantic guy, not one for flowers and chocolate, but more a sentimental gift that leaves a deep meaning. You know you’ll love whatever he plans. It worries you that you’ll perhaps love it too much. “But seriously, thank you for everything. The easel? How much did that cost you? I’ve looked at that brand before and there’s no way it was cheap.”

“It doesn’t matter how much it costed.” Warmth is creeping up on your cheeks again. You try to excuse it as Taehyung’s radiant body heat. “Let’s just say I had to resort to prostitution to pay for it, okay?”

Bodies shuddering in laughter, some tension in the air is thankfully alleviated by your humour, filling you with hope that things should and will return to normal in no time. You just need to stop overthinking.

“Hey, can you sleep here tonight?”

You freeze at his request. Because despite your constant fucking around with each other, one clear boundary has been that you don’t physically sleep with each other after sex. If you do sleep over, it is always just a completely platonic gesture. No kissing or fondling. Something about falling asleep in each other’s naked bodies is too mushy and couple-like. The type of thing that make you puke.

“Why?” You frown defiantly at him. “It’s not even your birthday anymore, it’s past midnight. So technically, I don’t have to treat you like royalty anymore.”

“Why not?” Taehyung rebuts, that cocky expression making you want to nipple-cripple him. This difficult son of a bitch, does he not know that the line is going hazy between you two?

“It’s weird, we just had sex.”

“So? What do you have against sleeping together after sex? Scared that you’ll fall in love with me?”

Your chest sinks to your stomach. You swear to god, Kim Taehyung is going to be the fucking death of you, stupid shit. How could he even say something like that so casually?

“In your fucking dreams, prick. If anything, you’d be the one to fall in love with me first, I just made you cum three times.” Taehyung chuckles at the flash of fury in your eyes, amused by how easy it is to strike a nerve in you.

“Do you want me to fall in love with you?” Though his tone is playful, and the wiggle of his brows suggests his mockery, you don’t know if he is completely joking anymore. And suddenly, everywhere that you’re touching - your entangled legs, his hands on the small of your back, your chests pressed on each other - everywhere starts to burn.

“Shut up, I’ll fucking sleep here, okay?”

And so this night, for the first time in the seven months you’ve been on-and-off fornicating alongside your unwavering friendship, you rest in Taehyung’s bed, your frame tucked snugly in his, his arm reposed on your waist. And despite your fatigue, it takes too long for sleep to find you as you watch his shoulders rise and fall in the dark, lips slightly parted, beckoning you to kiss them.

.

26/12/19

© Copyright 2019

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@taexxxiiaa @shookpreme @taetaeobsessed @tangledsparkles @nonexistentfucks @evilkookie @nbiased95 @taehyungmakesmeoof @itscalledgayhoney @tahaing @deliciouslydisturbed365 @expensive-bangtan-girl @jwlmnbt @herakimkim @dnyad @kaepjjang365 @expensive-bangtan-girl@gingerpeachtae @spring2787 @askingtheimportantthingshere @casualminiaturetimemachine @xblackclover13x @vasysauce @deadinsidebitch2412 @emiyooa @i-dont-even-know-fck @chimycthulhu @gixanjos @hisunshiine @xtaeyi @softjellyjimin @bluemooncnblue @malfeitofeitto @bangtanfancamp @keopitae @out-of-jams

[rosesgonerogue]

How to be a Dad 101

Chapter Eleven - Fake Dating 

Jasonette July Day Fourteen

Masterlist

Things were admittedly a little awkward with Jason after that, but it was to be expected. The whole situation was… strange. Because they were both busy, Marinette couldn’t really see him again until his fitting two days later. The only drawback to that was the fact that his entire family was also there.

She was early that day, with fresh pastries waiting for them while she finished the last few details on Selina’s dress. The men’s suits had all been cleaned and pressed, and Marinette just had to make sure that she didn’t need to adjust the sizing. They were actually matching suits that Selina had convinced Bruce to commission from Marinette for the Wayne gala last year. It was an unexpected move from the billionaire family, but apparently Selina insisted everything be made by Marinette.

The arrival of the Wayne family was as big and boisterous as she’d come to expect. She’d been working in the backroom when she heard Chloe’s little sound of irritation, closely followed by the sound of the door opening, followed by a series of American voices.

Emerging from the backroom, Marinette smiled cordially. “Welcome back, Wayne family. If you’ll follow—”

“Are you dating Jason?” Stephanie asked point-blank.

“You can’t just ask her like that,” Babs hissed. “It’s going to scare her o—”

“Yes, I’m dating Jason, but that’s all I’m saying about the matter – I’m at work,” Marientte said immediately, ignoring their dumbfounded expressions. “Now Stephanie, for your dress I need you to tell me what you think of the hemline. Do you want it shorter?”

The fitting went fairly well – the family was shocked enough by her announcement that she and Jason were dating, but thankfully no one tried to ask her anything further. All in all, everyone seemed happy with their garments, and Marinette only had minor adjustments to make.

Jason was last, and when he was out of earshot of his family, he whispered, “So we’re dating now?”

“I panicked! But I figured this was probably the best solution if you want to see the twins before you leave Paris. It’s a more palatable explanation for you coming to see me than telling them that you knocked me up three years ago.”

Wincing, Jason concede, “Fair enough. But I need more room.”

“Oh, right! Sorry for overstepping my bounds, I can explain things to your family and—”

“No, no, I meant in my shirt! The shoulders are a little tighter than they were when you made it last year. I definitely want to keep seeing you and the kids, and I definitely am not ready for my family to know anything. In fact, if you’re free I can send them back without me and we could go do something?”

“This is actually my last appointment of the day,” Marinette said, weighing her options. “I need to work on a couple of my commissions for a while, but you could keep me company and come pick up the kids with me. Or not, that’s probably a stupid idea. Scratch that, we could just—”

“That sounds perfect,” Jason interrupted. “For what it’s worth, when I saw you again I was excited to just see you. The twins were just an added surprise.”

“I just… I want you to  know that whatever happens between us, if you want to be a part of the twins’ lives, I won’t stop you.”

“And I appreciate that. I understand you may be scared, but first I’d like to see what might happen between us.”

Looking at him now, Marinette saw nothing but honesty and earnestness in his eyes. He held none of the false confidence and charm he’d used when he first met her, joking as it had been.

“For what it’s worth,” Jason continued, “There hasn’t been anyone for me since you, Marinette. It didn’t feel right.”

“It was the same for me,” she blurted out. “ I mean, being pregnant with someone else’s children does that, but I didn’t want anyone else.”

Jason blushed, looking uncertain. “I—”

“Forget I said that. So is it just the shoulders that are tight? Does the suit jacket need to be adjusted as well?”

Marinette did her best to keep the fitting a normal, professional fitting. After all her talk about keeping it professional with his family, here she was talking about nothing but her personal life. Was she allowed to make an exception for the father of her children? It seemed like a valid enough argument until you pointed out the fact that she’d interacted with him for less than a week collectively. It was all a disaster, and Marinette needed to figure things out before she accidentally embroidered a project onto her pants again.

She didn’t hear too much resistance when Jason told his family that he was staying behind, just some ribbing peppered with a few threats. Her personal favorite was Selina swearing she would use his spine as a golf club if he ruined things with her favorite designer.

He seemed sheepish when he came into the backroom to sit with Marinette. “Sorry that took so long. My family gets… overexcited.”

“I may only have my parents and the kids, but I understand,” Marinette said without looking up from the jacket she was busy stitching.

“That jacket looks familiar. Did someone want a duplicate of the one Jagged Stone has been wearing for his latest tour?”

“Not exactly,” Marinette said, holding the cloth up to the light. “Instead of letting me make a second one like any sane person would, Jagged insisted that I patch up the one that his pet crocodile Fang used as a chew toy. He needs it for his next show on Thursday, so I really have to finish this before I leave here today.”

“You work with Jagged Stone?” Jason asked almost reverently.

Marinette turned the sleeve inside-out, delicately stitching the lining back together. “I have since high school. I love the man, but his sentimentality is going to be the death of me and his wife. It doesn’t matter how dingy or tattered anything looks, he won’t stop wearing it, like those sunglasses. It makes me look bad as a designer, and it makes me feel even worse.”

“You mean you made the Eiffel Tower sunglasses? They’re an icon!” Jason said in awe. “Can you—”

“Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe interrupted, barging into the back room. “The child models we were going to use for the child portion of your fashion line have backed out. I’m going to say what I’ve been saying all along. We need to send in the gremlin and Mila.”

“Chloe, you’re going to have to call Jules by his name eventually. Besides, we’ve had this discussion before. I don’t want the twins living in the spotlight because of me.”

“I grew up in the spotlight,” Chloe argued.

“That’s not really making your point, Bee,” Marinette muttered.

“The rest of the line is being modelled by Waynes,” the blonde argued. “The twins are technically half Wayne.”

Marinette felt a blush overtake her face. “Chloe! What if I hadn’t told him yet?!”

“I gave you the perfect opportunity. It’s not my fault if you didn’t take it,” Chloe said flippantly before locking eyes with Jason. “Listen buddy. If you want some easy brownie points with the twins, you’ll help me persuade Marinette to do this. You may be the baby daddy, but they love their Aunt Bee.”

“You can’t call Jason that!” Marinette wailed, prepared for death. If only it would take her now.

“Too late. Besides, we won’t disclose that they’re your kids. The public doesn’t even know your face. Think about it, I’ve got a facial in ten. Enjoy changing diapers,” Chloe bid them both, walking out the door waving.

Taglist: 

@jasonette-july-2k20 @ira-sairain @myazael @pawsitivelymiraculous @nik-nak-3 @dast218 @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm  @vixen-uchiha @momothefemur @toodaloo-kangaroo @marinettepotterandplagg @goddessofthewestwind @iamabrownfox @smolplantmum @coolspidermanmusicflower @wannajointhecrabcult @thenillabean @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @spider-person95 @tbehartoo @kris-pines04 @rosalineandrosemary @chocolateherringtacofan @shizukiryuu

Note:  Hey! I’m somehow not dead, just very, very behind. I’ve been super busy, and I’m hoping to get caught up in time. Either way, prepare yourselves for a lot more twin shenanigans! If you want to be tagged, just comment below!

[sushigeo]

[dokifluffs]

thank you for the happiest years of my life

warning: *spoilers to like parts of basically the entire show and manga but also mostly crack. soo you have been warned* also warning, l o n g

thank you hinata for your toilet song and your sunshine persona, never giving up and also all your bowel issues getting you in the most uncomfy situations with other teams, for being the greatest decoy thank you kageyama for your jingru bell, jingru bell and all your hinata boke’s, milk breaks, and probably deformation of hinata’s skull from how many times you grabbed it thank you tsuki for your arara gomen and being tol boi #1with great character development but also staying the sassiest one omfg thank you yamagucci for your gomen, tsukki and being tol boi #2 with superb confidence building thank you yachi for being the best townsperson B thank you tanaka for killing dadchi. Tanaka, nice kill! and being literally one of the best characters thank you noya for your rolling thundas and being the coolest senpai and being karasuno’s guardian and also choosing to come to karasuno simply because you liked the girls’ uniforms thank you ennoshita for being best dad #2 and tutoring tanaka and noya thank you kinoshita and narita for existing even tho you two are the most slept on akjhdkad thank you suga for being the best mom and also singing under the sea  thank you asahi for being unintentionally scary and dressing up as jesus evry year for karasuno christmas  thank you kiyoko for always looking out for karasuno  thank you dadchi- deadchi- daichi for being best dad #1 thank you takeda for being the teacher sponsor of the club and having the best quotes out there homie, you really big brain thank you ukai junior for reminding the crows that volleyball is a game where you look up 

Thank you Karasuno, for teaching me to fly

thank you oikawa for teaching me that instinct is something you polish, talent is something you bloom. also for all your yoho, tobio chan’s and milk bread being your favorite food, for hitting it till it breaks. you were always enough and i wish we could’ve seen you bring your team to nationals. hope your knee gets soon buddy thank you iwa for always calling oikawa shittykawa and etc. best bestie out there and also, you did your best. you are not a failure as an ace for aoba johsai. also thank you for making sure oikawa rested  thank you mattsun and makki for being such an iconic duo  thank you kunimi for sticking out your tongue in season 4  thank you kindaichi for being onion head and having a great character development thank you kyotani for making me intimidated of an anime character like bruh. homie, your back said “C”-  thank you yahaba for being best setter #2 tehe and also putting kyotani in his place  thank you watari for being Aoba johsai’s guardian and being tanaka written in cursive thank you yuda, sawauchi, and shido even if i didnt pay you any attention adkjah im sorry 

thank you Aoba Johsai for teaching me how to rule the court 

thank you kuroo for your hyena laugh, befriending kenma when you moved in next door, and being literally everything  thank you kenma for being best pudding head and being the best sugar daddy after the time skip to our hina baby  thank you lev for being long boi and having one of the best glow ups in s4 like literally scrumptious. Cant want to see your time skip animated and also, you’re gonna be a great nekoma ace one day bb  thank you yaku for being literally the best libero im sorry noya kajdhas omg akjda goals and also putting lev in his place  thank you shibayama for stepping in as libero when yaku got hurt in land vs. sky you did great bb  thank you yamamoto for being tanaka written in magnum sharpie, punk font and getting into a dispute with Tanaka on S I T E thank you teshiro for being best setter #2 uwu  thank you kai for being one of many underrated characters that should’ve gotten more  thank you teshiro for looking the most like a cat and being a pinch server thank you inuoka for being a lil sunshine too 

thank you Nekoma for teaching me how to connect

thank you bokuto for serving all of us your juicy a$$ but also being the best hype boi out there, capable of being so strong and proving to be so much stronger by growing out of your emo modes, for making akaashi choose to come to fukurodani thank you akaashi for playing with your fingers, for always looking out for bokuto, teaching all of us that we are the protagonists of the world, having a list of his weaknesses memorized thank you konoha for doing what we all wanna do and knee bokuto’s voluptuous ass thank you waisho for being like a normal lookin type bokuto  thank you sarukui, anahori, komi, and onaga for being part of this great team and also boosting bokuto up

thank you fukrodani for teaching me how to pour my soul into everything (every ball) 

thank you ushijima for teaching me how to harvest and farm for the ripest of fruits thank you tendo for BAKI BAKI NI ORAE NANI WO and being a weeb too. you were never a monster as a child or ever in your life  thank you goshiki for being female jirou from my hero academia and also realizing how much you need to improve at the end of s3. made me cry man  thank you semi for being suga in punk rock font  thank you reon for being you cause you rock homie. you and kai would so vibe together man. good vibes all around thank you soekawa, yunohama, kawanishi, and sagae for existing even though yall were slept on thank you yamagata and akakura for having shiratorizawa’s back’s as liberos thank you shirabu for using ushijima to your disposal like he wished. you gon be a great doctor bb

thank you shiratorizawa for teaching me how to have an intense force to my persona thank you aone for being the best iron wall and having the cutest friendship with hinata like omg his current fear is no one wanting to sit near him on the metro akdjhahds i’ll sit with you  thank you koganegawa for being the best angry bird bb  thank you Futakuchi for getting knocked over when you chest bumped aone  thank you obara, onagawa, and fukiage for existinggg thank you sakunami for having Dateko’s backs 

thank you dateko student section for making the most iconic cheer out of the entire show that’ll never die also, check out the live action stage ones akjdhas nekoma is stuck in my head 

thank you dateko for having the best cheer in the show 

thank you saeko nee-san for being the best tokyo drift driver out there with your Taiko team and being the best leader leading the karasuno cheers for da bois thank you karasuno’s voice principal for not expelling our two celled boyos, kageyama and hinata   thank you third gym for all the oya oya’s  thank you bokuto for hooking tsuki onto volleyball when he blocked ushi  thank you takeda for scaring ukai junior in season 1 when he repeatedly went back to beg him to be the coach for karasuno, begging to so many coaches and making sure they could have practice matches with other schools thank you to hinata’s tennis friend who taught him how to splatter step(?) thank you ukai senior for teaching them about the tempos thank you to the old guy that goes to every karasuno game even tho literally no one knows him bruh  thank you to Shimada for teaching our bb boi yams to float serve thank you for the twins and sakusa and so many more teams  thank you for bringing us to brazil with hinata, reuniting him and oikawa  thank you for all the commercial breaks  thank you for all the memes aka haikyuu dubbed thank you for all the radio shows with characters we may never get to see on the screen together thank you tsukki for pressing hinata’s diahrea spot thank you for dub yams’ he he he waluigi laugh thank you hinata for inspiring asahi to join the team again thank you kageyama for probably breaking hinata’s back so many times by kicking him  thank you asahi for calling out to suga  thank you kageyama for scaring the living shit out of hinata when he hit you in the back of the head with his rushed serve in season 1 in the practice match against aoba johsai thank you for all the meat buns eaten after practice, the popsicles nishinoya ate in two bites thank you noya for all the epic saves and pancakes you dove for  thank you for kageyama’s “nuff, nis, niceu-” to tsukki  thank you for tanaka and noya and yamamoto for all women are queens club  thank you suguru for getting under kuroo’s skin and making him petty asf in land vs sky  thank you alisa for being literally breathing, you and lev look so goodd post time skip like haiba sibs rule the world thank you tv that hinata had happened to be passing by, playing the game with the little giant, inspiring him to go to karasuno  thank you kageyama’s grandpa for getting him into volleyball 🥺 thank you for all the races while running, all the flying receive laps, the hill runs, the training camps, practice matches thank you for all the disputes that could happen before all the gears could be made and put into place  thank you kiyoko for saying that tanaka for some reason looks good with a banana thank you for the meat god dance, the serve cheer poses  thank you for making me love volleyball tenfold thank you for moi pon  thank you kageyama for telling hinata that he’s the greatest when he’s around, giving him his first official toss thank you hinata for telling kageyama that he sets just fine

thank you to all the voice actors for starting and staying through all the years to bring all our favorites to life, never failing us once

thank you spyair, burnout syndromes, tacica, nico touches the walls, sukima switch, galileo galilei, and more for so many amazing ops and eps

thank you for all the memories, all the laughs, cheers, heart racing moments, the moments that made us grip onto pillows, the edge of our seats, tears, addicting chants, making me simp for like 50 people, making my cheeks hurt from smiling so much, my voice raspy for cheering and screaming so much. 

thank you to this fandom for being like a second family, sharing all our love and crackheadedness 

thank you for the happiest years of my life

thank you haikyuu, thank you Furudate for bringing this amazing story to all of us and touching our lives with it