#but how do i move from modeling to getting them to practice it?

[medieval-canadian]

help how do i come up with discussion questions that make students actually think and engage rather than sit in fear/uncertainty or simply react?

[madamechrissy]

Just Friends!?

-Art in the banner from nek0zuu_ on X-

Pairings- Former Nerd! Gojo and popular F! reader

Summary - Satoru Gojo was the biggest nerd EVER in high school with you, next door neighbors, study buddies, you were the best friends in the world. Never having the courage to ask you -the 'popular girl' out- you never knew he felt for you. He ended up leaving town, moving to the big city of LA- getting famous with a modeling career, and lost touch with everyone from his old life. While you're working the family pub to help out your parents, years later, he finally comes back to visit, just to have you making his drink. Everything about him is different, aside from those pretty blue eyes and the sweet grin. You feel he's so accomplished now, and you're just a small town girl, but little do you know, you've never left his mind.

Warnings - Will be explicit and smutty (it's me!?) Nerdjo turned famous and cocky, but he's still just a Nerdjo deep down hehe- his chap, mentions of sex/getting turned on, Gojo being a cute little nerd, embarssment level a million, this was gonna be a oneshot but... no, don't think it'll happen, so three parts maybe, welcome to part one

Based on the 2005 Rom com Just Friends - part of my amazinggg moot @indiewritesxoxo's Friday night flicks! 🌙 -

Masterlist - Part Two

Part One

Eight years ago- Satoru Gojo - age eighteen

Satoru Gojo is wearing his finest polo, grinning at his reflection in the mirror, he finally got his braces off, wearing just this clear retainer, which his dentist had even made it Digimon, a little Lucemon embedded in that acrylic, he snaps it in and grins at himself now. He’s looking rather spiffy, if he does say so himself, talking to the mirror now.

“You can do it, just… tell her. Just tell her.” He’s grinning with newly straight teeth, putting on his glasses now so that he can see, spiking up silky white locks just a bit, Satoru singing to that mirror, his favorite song, the one that makes him think of you. “Yeah baby, hah- I know.” He is practicing winking at his reflection, trying to be cool, leaning this way and that.

The song continues, Satoru grabs his hairbrush, singing into the handle like a pro, as he pictures you, snowy lashes fluttering shut, a little grin on his face. He leans against the mirror now, picturing his hands barring you on either side, when he leans to the mirror and presses his lips on the cool glass.

“Oh… you want a kiss, hmm?” He’s whispering, he’s constantly been practicing his first kiss.

You’ll be his first kiss, he’s sure of it!

When his mom knocks on the door, right in the middle of this, he panics, swiping off his own spit from the mirror, shutting off his speaker and clearing his throat as he opens the door, his mom gushing now, hand on her chest. “Oh little Toru, you’re just so precious! Mwah!”

“Mom, stop!” She’s smacking kisses on his cheeks, over and over, relentless in her assault on his face. “I’m not a little kid mom, it’s graduation night!”

“Oh you’ll always be my baby.” He sighs, and she looks over at the pictures now, of Satoru and his best friend - future wife (you don’t know it yet) - decorated along his walls, mixing with various posters and pictures. “Aw, is tonight the night?”

Satoru blushes bright pink, looking back at the pictures, you’re both smiling, laughing, you’re kissing his cheek, hugging him. Shit, last time you kissed his cheek he avoided washing that exact spot, for so long, and once he had you luckily had bestowed another on him. You were his best friend, but…

He wanted more.

You were the most popular girl in the school, everyone just adored you, everyone knew who you were, but Satoru? He had a few friends, you, Nanami, Suguru, Shoko… that was it though, he was overwhelmingly annoying to just about everyone, constantly besting them all academically. He asked for extra credit to the groans of the room, he played Digimon to his heart's content.

He was…

Well, a nerd.

But you loved him how he was, there was a box just full of your little notes saying just that, you defended him against anyone who’d dare say a word, thus Satoru became somewhat popular by association. Moreso, they were terrified of the consequences of being mean to your ‘best friend furr-ever’ as you referred to him.

“You just be yourself, Satoru.” His mom says sweetly, pecking another kiss on his forehead.

He sighs then, frowning. Himself… isn’t who got the girls, no you’re in one break up after another, with football stars, with the popular boys, and Satoru holds you as you cry, as another one doesn’t respect you, doesn’t deserve you. Yet Satoru never, ever told you how he really felt.

He wants to be more.

*****

As Satoru Gojo weaves his way through the insane party later that night, Suguru and Shoko come up, smiling, handing him a red solo cup, he sips it and winces at the taste. “Where is she?” He asks, holding your yearbook you’ve asked him to sign, clutching it for dear life- because it has it all, the confession of his feelings.

“Saw her doing a keg stand over there.” Shoko says, Satoru looks over to see you flipped upside down, people cheering you on.

Suguru pats his friend’s shoulder. “You can do it man, don’t be scared, I’m sure she feels the same.”

“I’m gonna do it.” You are set back down on your feet, when you see him, jumping up and down and running to him, big grin on your face, he holds out an arm for you to cling to him.

“Satoru! You’re here!” You’re bouncing now, just making your tits bounce just so in that little bustier you’re wearing, pulling back and giggling like crazy, the alcohol having rushed to your head. “I’m so happy, ah if you missed it I’d have been so bummed! Come on!”

Satoru eyes his friends, who murmur a ‘good luck’ as you eagerly run up the stairs to your bedroom, the party is of course at your place because your parents are out of town. Satoru passes couples making out in the hallway, dancing all over, kissing on the stairs, as you open your door, glaring now.

“Ah - ah, out!” You shoo away two drunk friends kissing, sighing and shaking your head, leaving the door shut, as Satoru holds his breath. “Jesus, they’re all horned up, huh? My god!” You lay down now, plopping on your pretty white day bed, as Satoru sees just the color of panties you’re wearing, making him blush more, looking away from that pleated skirt.

“I… signed your yearbook.” He murmurs softly, you sit up now, a strap falling from your shoulder, and Satoru starts to feel…

Too much.

He’d been jerking it to you since he knew what that even was, but looking at you now, he had trouble holding back, so he started to blush and stammer, as you tilt your head curiously, legs swinging a bit while you study him. “What’s wrong? Do you need a little air, I can crack open the window!”

You hop up now, bending over to lift your heavy window, the breeze starts filtering in, billowing your pretty curtains, and Satoru has to ignore the reaction of his body, willing his cock to go down. He is shutting his eyes and thinking of anything else, when suddenly you’re cupping his face. He opens pretty blue eyes to look down at you, at the girl he’s been in love with since he was just a kid.

“You alright? Not your scene, is it?” Your voice is soft with understanding, Satoru sets the yearbook down now, his own hands brushing your arms, making you tremble just a bit. “You smell so good. You look so cute! Look at your teeth! Ah, you’re so handsome, yes you are!”

You’re pinching his cheeks, ending any thoughts of maybe kissing you, as you’re cooing over him. “Stop it.”

“Oh…” You pull back, sighing. “Is it too… it’s weird to be so close to you as we get older, isn’t it?” You frown now. “You’re going to freaking Ivy league, god you’re so smart. I’ll be at Community and…”

“What, no not that. I…” He brushes your hair back, or attempts to, only to accidentally poke at your eye.

“Ah, shit ow!”

“Shit, sorry…” He tries then to grip your chin, like he sees in the movies, making your lips purse just like a fish, and he stutters. “Oh my god I… shit I…”

“Satoru, what is wrong? You’re acting so weird.” You are rubbing at your eye now, as your other strap falls, and your tits nearly fall out, making him panic, turning away and covering his face. “What-”

The door opens now, as Sukuna waltzes in, grinning at you. “Sexy, look at those tits.”

“You’re so rude, Sukuna, ugh.” You cover them up quickly, and Sukuna laughs, throwing his head back, eyeing Satoru now.

“Aw, you two are so cute, why don’t you come dance, baby?” You roll your eyes, shoving him out of the room.

“Bye! I am not your baby.”

“I feel bad for you man…” Sukuna mumbles, roughing up Satoru now, hand ruffling up his hair, as Satoru shoves at him.

“Go on Sukuna.”

“Why little buddy!?” He says your name now, as Satoru sets the yearbook on the bed, and Sukuna plops on it, leaning on an elbow. “Wanna watch how to please a woman 101?”

“Sukuna fuck off please.” You’re yanking at the big lug of a man, who just pokes at your breast, grinning. “You’re such a child!”

“C’mere now.” He yanks you on top of him, right in front of Satoru, you heat up at memories of him, your experiences with him were not the reason you broke up, it was more so he was an ass. “I’m sorry I was such a dick, baby. Can’t orgive me? Shouldn’t the captain of the football team be with the head of the cheer squad?”

“No, they shouldn’t, and no pouting. I’m spending time with my friend.” You finally shove him off, springs creaking as his heavy weight leaves, and he snatches up his yearbook now.

“You won’t even sign mine?”

“No way. Out.” Sukuna pecks a kiss on your cheek, earning a smack and Satoru’s glare behind his tortoiseshell glasses.

“Shit, man.” Sukuna wraps an arm around Satoru’s narrow shoulders, huge in comparison, as Satoru grimaces. “Friend zone is a bitch.” You blink in confusion, shaking your head.

“Friend what now? Go on, we’re talking!” You shove him out of the room finally, sighing as you see Satoru clutching that year book, the music still vibrating through the room, quieter now. “What’s he mean?”

“How would I know? Sukuna’s not exactly a friend.” He rolls his eyes, and you giggle a bit.

“Yeah, he’s kind of a dick.”

“Just kind of? Why’d you date him.”

“Well… he’s also hot?” Satoru rolls his eyes again, as your cheeks heat up, covering your laughter with your hand. “Sorry, let me see this.”

You snatch up his burgundy and black yearbook, and Satoru’s heart races in his chest, eyeing your room nervously, when you sit on the bed with your legs crossed, flipping open the glossy pages now. Satoru hears laughter then, nearly breaking his heart, his eyes shut as his fingers brush along one of your stuffed animals, he was an idiot, right, no way you could feel the same.

“Satoru what’s this - had a badass time banging you in the ‘vette, baby!??! Is this a joke like…” He panics then, eyes wide open, snatching the yearbook from your hands, cursing now.

“Shit this is Sukuna’s… Oh no…”

“Oh, no big deal. Oh, Satoru, I haven’t given you that gift!” Satoru’s sweating now, he can’t handle anyone ever seeing what he wrote but you, surely Sukuna is too drunk to notice, right? “Here, do you love it!?”

It’s a bright pink shirt, you hold up two of them in different sizes, embossed pictures of the two of you sipping on milkshakes, with little cat bodies. “What the… what?”

“You’re the white cat, and look I gave him shades!” You’re bouncing up and down again, yanking the shirt over your head, revealing just your bra, making Satoru’s eyes nearly bug out as he sees your breasts damn near.

“Stop, shit…”

“I’m stuck!” You’re laughing, breathless, when he tugs the shirt down now, so close your breath catches. You bury your head against his chest, the soft silk of his polo against your skin. “You saved me!”

“Always.” His soft words have more meaning than you know, as you slip his shirt off now, blushing as you see his body, more defined and cut than you expected, he’d definitely gained some muscle this year it seemed.

“Damn, look at you, all cut huh? Hottest bestie ever!” Your words make him stutter, then you’ve slipped the matching shirt, he stares at it in the mirror with horror filled eyes. “Besties furr-ever! God you look so cute, Satoru, let's take a picture, we’ll show our moms!”

Satoru grimaces then, as the realization hits. “Oh god…”

Friend Zone.

He was stuck in the friend zone.

Furr ever.

Then he hears it, laughter down the halls, you rush after him when he runs out, and there Sukuna is at the top of the stairs overlooking the partygoers all around the house, reading it out loud. Sukuna and everyone sees Satoru then, in that bright pink shirt with dumb fucking kittens, pointing at him and laughing as you walk out, crossing your arms.

“Hey now! Stop it! Everyone can go, I swear!”

“Wait, wait, you should hear this. ‘When it’s me and you, it’s like our own little perfect world, just Satoru and-’ You listen as Sukuna reads off it in horror, as Satoru begins to shove at Sukuna, and he keeps holding it higher, laughing. “I love you so much, you’re so special to me, you-”

“Give it back!” Satoru shoves a drunk Sukuna out of the way finally, making the big man in his letterman’s jacket stumble, as you blink in confusion, words you never expected from him, hitting so hard.

It couldn’t be.

Satoru and you were so close all these years, and not once had you even had an inkling. “Satoru…”

“No.” He runs down the stairs, yanking off the kitten shirt, leaving him bare, as everyone sings the song lyrics he’d written in your yearbook, making kissy faces as you yell at them all. “Fuck this town.”

“Satoru!” Shoko and Suguru come out front with you, as he kicks on the pedal of his bike, and you’re rushing. “Stop, please.”

“No, I’m done, with everyone here. Fuck you all.” They’re still making obscene gestures, earning your scowl, as Sukuna and the other jocks just grow louder.

“Leave him alone! Satoru, don’t go, I’ll send them all home.” You’re touching his chest now, making him falter, embarrassment pouring in.

“No, you’re popular, right?” His words hurt suddenly, you pull back as if they wound you. “You’re always popular, and I’m not.”

“You’re my best friend, who cares what they think of you? I know you’re amazing.” Your eyes fill with tears now, but Satoru’s embarrassment has taken over, they’re all spread across your front yard making kissy faces, chanting ‘friend zone friend zone friend zone’ “God don’t listen. They’re stupid!”

“No, I’m stupid, I can’t wait to leave this town, and never come back.” You’re crying more now, shaking your head.

“Please, we can… go somewhere, like we used to. I want to know… is what you said in the yearbook…”

“No, it’s… it was a joke. Okay?” You sniffle now more, and Satoru hops back on his bike. “You’re all a joke! Gonna be burnouts, and watch me get… so famous!”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Sukuna earns Satoru’s flipping him off, shocking the crowd, the quiet nerd had never been this way. He takes one last look at you, brows together, lips trembling.

You’d never like him anyway.

“I’m gone, and not looking back.” He rides off, hearing you shouting his name, hearing the laughter, his couple friends also trying to get his attention. You blow up his cell phone all night, all week, fuck all summer, his facebook, shit you call his damn mother, but Satoru leaves.

He leaves and never looks back.

*****

Present day- Satoru Gojo- age twenty six

It’s a bustling party, spring break is here and what place is better than Hollywood, really? Satoru is the most famous up and coming model there is, and he may or may not also be a complete whore of a man. He’s in a three piece Givenchy suit, sipping a martini and winking at a sexy waitress, who blushes immediately, earning the glare of the girl he’s with.

“This is what I mean! You only care about sex!” Satoru snorts now, as the eyes of the party start peering curiously.

“Didn’t I have you cumming like ten times this morning?” He murmurs, tilting her chin up, she falters a bit, lips parting for a moment. “That’s what I thought, sweets, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”

He’s grinning brightly down at her, a beautiful model in her own right, but women were… easy, easy to get, fuck they flocked to him, and he just kept one major rule about them all. Never, ever, become their friend, he could not handle the heartbreak eight years ago, the girl who he never spoke to again, fuck you’d never recognize him now, would you?

“I do, of course but… I want something more serious.” Satoru pouts.

“That’s a shame, we were having so much fun, Michelle.”

“That’s not even my name, ugh! It’s Marie! How-”

She’s freaking out now, he must have got her confused with his other hook up, he just watches her with cold blue eyes, tapping an olive into his mouth and nodding, pretending to care. It’s just sex, but Satoru loves to fuck, he loves watching women cum for him, screaming his name, something the boy with pink kitten shirts, glasses and a retainer couldn’t dream of.

He wasn’t a skinny nerd now, he was buff, he was sought after, he bets now you’d fold for him too, but he never visited home again to find out either way. He flew his mom and friends out to Hollywood instead, the taste of the little town left in his mouth far, far too disgusting, but of course he wonders about you, but he’s never managed to find out, to ask.

Satoru shakes off the thoughts of you, realizing another girl has walked up, and she’s yelling now too. “What’s wrong with you? Who are you?” He asks curiously, making her mouth drop open, arms crossing under her breasts.

“You don’t even remember me!?” The blonde girl asks.

“Michelle?”

“No, I’m Britney! Who is Michelle!?” Satoru curses, he thinks he remembers fucking Britney in a bathroom stall, but he’s not sure.

“Um… I think I’m gonna go.” He pats their shoulders, grinning with those bright white teeth. “I have places to be, ladies.”

Satoru earns two smacks, wincing and touching his cheeks, as his friend snorts in laughter next to him. “You’re such an ass, Gojo.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shit…” His phone keeps ringing, and soon he sees it, his manager won’t stop calling. “What is it?”

“Satoru, you have connections back in New Hampshire, right?” Satoru frowns now, he never ever wants to think of his hometown again.

“Why?” He leans on the bar, as he gets another martini, winking at the bartender who can’t keep her eyes off him.

“An ideal slot for an impromptu show, and you’ll be the star! You can book a trip this week right?”

“No!”

“What do you mean no? It’s perfect, the hometown boy got famous, they’ll eat it up, money in our pockets.” Satoru’s panicking now, visions swirling in his mind, of leaving you that night.

Should he have stayed?

No way, he’ll never be in that ‘friend zone’ again, looking like an idiot. Let him go back, show them all what he’s become. “You know what… fuck it, I can.”

“That’s my Star. Alright, booking tickets!” Satoru hangs up the phone, thinking of you suddenly… surely you were long gone.

Just how were you?

Why did he care?

That life was long, long gone. He eyes the pretty bartender now, tapping his martini glass, blue eyes dipping low. “Guess I’m visiting my hometown.”

“Oh yeah, where from?” She asks softly, and he smirks, as she shakes the martini up.

“Small town, middle of nowhere. You watched me get slapped and did nothing, by the way!” She giggles.

“You look like you deserved it.” Satoru sighs, giving her the cutest pout, as she leans over, but instead of even being attracted, you’re swirling all through his damn mind, one phone call and…

He couldn’t get the memory of you to leave.

Did you look the same, were you married with kids like you always wanted, or did you have a career, did you ever end up teaching? That was your dreams, small dreams to him, but to you they had been everything. He keeps hoping the money, fame and women will fill this gaping hole you left, and he supposes he can pretend that it did, but it’s gnawing it’s way open in his chest.

He sighs, as the music fades, and his ears rush with blood, remembering you that night, so vivid it’s like you’re there, and he has to blink, to focus on the bustling, expensive party surrounding him. He contemplates it then, what would Nerd Gojo think of himself now?

“Maybe I did.” He mumbles, when he’s back home, preparing for the trip, packing his finest outfits in a Gucci suitcase, he stumbles upon that one picture of you and him that he kept then, touching it gently, withered a bit with age, with time.

He whispers your name, before shoving it deep in the suitcase and closing it, laying back on his bed.

The ‘nerd’ Gojo they knew was gone.

He was a fucking model now, he fucked models for fun, he was filthy fucking rich, and he’d show them all, right?

But… what about you, the girl who always treated him so sweet, the one he has to swallow down emotions thinking of the memory.

What about you?

Next part- Satoru comes home!! And you just so happen to be there, what will you think of the changes Satoru has made? Gonna be a lil emotional, mostly fun and sweet!!! Satoru gonna be an ass but it's okay he'll learn lol.

taglist #1- @pinkyvomit @saitamaswifey @kachowness @vraiao @artbligh @psychoartiste @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @bsenpai @simp-for-wanderer @rjreins @emonaculate @myahfig4 @casua11ycrying @psycren @blushedcheri @ureuphoriasworld @frozenmallows @kanaojacksonofc @rcveriees @xlilycoco @yukimaniac @sypnasis @tokina @sharkubi @tztuoo @hyori2 @yesdere @gradmacoco @gamerhere @seikamuzu @xinsonyax @vvaoo @angie420 @ria54sworld @blue-musingss @mysticmyth @asimpinamillion @arabellasolstice @ilovebeansyay @notme000 @emochosoluvr @iv-vee @heh123321 @fushikamo @danilovesboba @spookyy-gracee @satorusleftnut @clqxuds @femaholicc

[plutotheplum]

Socks and Kisses

leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: a spontaneous shopping trip has leon re-evaluating his friendship with you.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, spanking, oral sex, praise kink, fluff, friends/roommates to lovers, fantasizing

wc: 3.7k

also posted on ao3!

There’s a shriek leaving you when you trip over a bundle of shoes in the doorway. It nearly sends you hurtling towards the floor, but there’s an arm curling around your waist, tugging you up before you can fall. Leon.

You glare up at your roommate, shoving at his chest so it sends him stumbling.

“Seriously, Leon? How many times have I told you to put your shoes to the side of the doorway?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

He winces at your shrill voice, his hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I was busy,” he says, his eyes pleading with you, “you know with… with work.”

You’re shooting him an unimpressed look, pushing past him to put the groceries on the kitchen counter. It was your day to collect them anyways. Living with Leon had happened entirely by accident. One shittily written apartment listing later and the poor guy was standing outside your door, begging you to let him move in. It hadn’t been so bad. Leon had been nice, and you two had gotten along well, becoming friends even. The only thing you couldn’t stand was how messy the man was.

Empty boxes from delivered packages, stray parchment sheets from when he’d bake himself something and socks strewn haphazardly across the floor, much like his shoes. Leon had practically turned your apartment into a deathtrap. 

You don’t get to reminisce for much longer, not when he’s reaching for the pack of popsicles you’d bought. Leon lets out a low whine, like a kicked puppy, when you swat his hand away and shoot him an irritated glance. “I’m putting my foot down,” you tell him firmly, “no more unorganized socks, shoes or- or anything for that matter!”

Leon only tilts his head, blinking over at you. You glance towards the clock before your eyes are flitting back to meet his.

“Ikea,” you explain, “we’re going to Ikea to get you some organizers or whatever.” 

“ Now? ” Leon asks, raising his brows “but I was going to go to the gym with Chris and-” he’s shutting up when he sees your hardened glare.

Leon lets out an exasperated huff, and you’re smiling over at him, happy you’ve won this argument. Just to reward him, you’re digging out a popsicle from the pack and handing it to him. “So stubborn,” he mumbles under his breath, freeing the popsicle from its wrapper. 

“I heard that,” you reply, sticking your tongue out at him.

You both finish up your popsicles, and you’re tossing him his car keys while you pull your shoes on again. 

“Why do I have to drive?” he complains, leaning against the doorway.

“Because it’s your mess,” you retort, rolling your eyes, “and you’re paying as well.”

Leon lets out a scoff, “oh, fuck you.”

You smile back at him, patting him on the shoulder for some comfort. You manage to annoy him a little more during the drive to Ikea, and Leon’s contemplating whether he should just stuff your mouth with the rolled up catalog you’re currently holding

It’s when you both get to the kitchen area that Leon realizes something’s wrong. His eyes are watching the way you bend over the model kitchen counter, gaze trained on the way your skirt rides up slightly, exposing the backs of your thighs. He swallows harshly, wondering what it might be like to come up behind you, grab your hips and grind his cock against your ass. 

Your voice breaks him out of his dazed thoughts, your hand waving him over as you point to the price tag.

“Don’t you think this is a catch?” You ask him, head tilting back to meet his eyes.

“A catch?” He echoes, raising his brows, “it’s $2000 . Do you even have $2000?” 

You roll your eyes, elbowing him in the stomach. “Don’t be such a jerk, Leon. I think it’d look good in our apartment.”

There it is. Our apartment. The words are so comfortably domestic that it has Leon’s knuckles squeezing tight around the basket he’s holding. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t imagined you two dating. Especially after that time he’d come home drunk one night. You’d taken care of him so sweetly, despite all of your grumbles and chastisements, that Leon felt like he was falling in love.

That had only happened once though, and Leon wasn’t prepared to make a big deal about his feelings so he buried them deep down and carried on with his life.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on his little crush any longer, brows furrowing when he feels the basket in his hand grow heavier. You’ve been milling about, dumping various little trays and organizational tidbits into the basket.

“At this point, I think you’re trying to max out my card,” he drawls, trailing after you.

“I’m helping you, Leon” you shoot back, bringing a candle up to your nose to smell its scent.

It’s not until you both get to the bedding area that Leon realizes he might actually be losing it. 

He’s sitting down on the edge of one of the beds, the basket settled on the floor with how heavy it’s become. 

You’re fluttering about, checking out the duvet covers and pillow cases. His eyes watch over you, letting you take a seat beside him on the bed when you find a duvet cover you like.

“Pretty, right?” You ask him, showing him the design.

“I guess,” he murmurs absentmindedly. 

He thinks you look prettier though. Besides, it’s not like he can tell you that he’s imagining taking you on this very bed. Your face pressed into the pillows, his cock stuffed into your pussy. You’d probably make cute noises too, clench around his cock while he thrusted into you. He’d let everyone watch, he thinks, make sure everyone knew that you were his. 

You’re snapping your fingers in his face, trying to get him to pay attention to you.

“Are you okay?” You ask, staring into his eyes “you keep getting distracted.”

“What?” Leon flushes, clearing his throat “yeah- yeah I’m fine… just had enough of you is all.”

You swat his shoulder and he rolls his eyes. Both of you manage to get to the checkout without any further bickering. Leon’s card doesn’t max out thankfully, but you wince when you see the total, ignoring Leon’s glower as he tears the receipt from the machine.

To make up for the spontaneous shopping spree, you buy him a soft serve and hand it to him with a smile. 

Leon takes it with a grumble, his eyes dropping to the way you lick at your soft serve. The icy treat smudges across your lips, and he’s reaching out before he can stop himself, his thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth to clean the mess. 

“Think you might be the messy one,” he mutters gruffly, drawing his hand back. 

“Your socks alone have nearly crippled me” you reply, nibbling at the cone to try and quell the race of your heart at his unexpected action. 

Leon lets out a loud sigh, shaking his head. The drive home is quiet, the soft sounds of the radio filling up the car’s space.

You help Leon with the stuff you bought, leaving the goods in his room before letting out a satisfied nod.

“There. Now you don’t have an excuse for being messy. Better start cleaning up, Leon” you chirp, giving him a snarky smile before tugging his door shut.

You sigh happily, mind feeling at ease. You’re sure that your apartment won’t be so messy anymore. The sounds of Leon rummaging inside his room almost make you feel bad, but this had been going on for months and you were glad you had done something about it. 

Deciding to grab some food, you reach for the can of peaches on the kitchen counter. By some misfortune, your hand accidentally knocks the can, sending it rolling towards the edge. Letting out an irritated huff, you’re reaching across the counter to grab the can before it falls off. 

While this happens, you’re blissfully unaware of the fact that your skirt is riding up. Leon feels his heart nearly jump out of his chest at the sight when he had wandered out of his room to grab a garbage bag. 

He can see the swell of your ass, your cheeks peeking out from your panties as you’re bent over, grabbing the can of peaches. 

“Have you made it some sort of mission to bend over every kitchen counter you see?” he asks dryly, his arms crossing over his chest.

You squeak in surprise, body jolting. The can of peaches slips from your hand pitifully, landing on the floor with a loud thunk .

“Why are you sneaking up on me?” You whine, turning to give him a glare.

Leon doesn’t reply, coming to a stop in front of you. His blue eyes are dark, dirty blonde hair hanging over his forehead.

“Um… Leon?” You wave your hand in front of his face. 

“I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose,” he murmurs, his hand catching yours.

“Hm?” he squeezes your hand, his head lowering so he can stare right into his eyes, “bending over every kitchen counter so I can see your pretty ass?” 

You manage to gather your wits, letting out a loud scoff and push at his chest.

“You’re such a perv, Leon!” you accuse, narrowing your eyes and placing your hands on your hips. 

“I’m not a perv if you keep bending over like that!” he shoots back, his hands grabbing at your forearms to tug you towards him. 

You swallow harshly when his calloused hands drift past your wrists, finding your hands and lacing his fingers with yours. The warmth of his body seeps into yours and your head is tilting, eyes finding his.

“We- we are not fucking,” you whisper, shaking your head.

“Who said anything about fucking?” Leon asks, his head lowering again. 

His body presses against yours, causing your breath to hitch. You’re biting your lip at the way it feels, the hard planes of his body molding against yours.

“One kiss,” he whispers, peering into your eyes, “please? Just one kiss and it’ll be over.”

You’d be doing yourself a disservice if you denied his request. Leon was stupidly handsome even if he was a little annoying at times, and you had maybe masturbated to the thought of your roommate before.

“Did you happen to forget that we’re roommates?” you raise your brows, trying to voice your concerns.

“Roommates kiss all the time,” he says, his nose nudging against yours gently, “now c’mon, gimme a kiss.”

You don't know what sort of roommates he’s been hanging around, but you’re almost certain that roommates don’t kiss or do whatever the hell you two are doing right now. 

Leon doesn’t know what he’s doing either. That one shopping trip had seriously messed up his brain, but he was here now so there was no going back. Your lips look so pretty, your eyes all starry. He wants to kiss you senseless and bend you over that stupid kitchen counter while he fucks into you until you’re crying on his cock.

As if to encourage you a little more, he nudges his nose against yours again. You send him a glare, eyes slipping shut as you rock up on the tips of your toes and brush your lips against his. The kiss is fleeting, a mere touch of your lips against his, and it’s safe to say Leon is not impressed.

“There,” you say, trying to hide the smirk that spreads across your face, “you got a kiss. Now leave me alone.”

Leon lets out a low groan, his head falling against your shoulder, “you’re a fuckin’ tease, you know that?”

You hum, pushing at his chest, taking the opportunity to free yourself from the confines of his grasp.

“Not so fast,” he murmurs, his hand snagging onto your shirt, “c’mere baby.”

His low voice has the butterflies in your stomach fluttering, your eyes widening when his hands cup your cheeks and he presses his lips against yours.

It doesn’t take you long to respond, arms wrapping around his neck as he kisses you fiercely. He groans into your mouth, his arms winding around your waist to pull you closer. 

You’re both flush against each other and you let out an irritated noise when he shoves you up against the kitchen counter, feeling the solid surface dig into your back.

“Drove me crazy at that Ikea,” he whispers against your lips, his hands sneaking under your skirt to give your ass an appreciative grope, “thought about fucking you on one of those beds.”

The idea of it is so obscene and indecent that you find yourself moaning out loud.

“Yeah? You like that, baby? Me fucking you in front of everyone, letting them know that you’re mine?” 

You’re nodding desperately at his filthy questions, trying to tug his shirt off so you can see his chest and abdomen. He obliges you, quickly shrugging off his shirt. Your teeth sink into your lower lip at the sight, eyes half-lidded. 

You can’t help the way your body leans forward, lips pressing soft kisses across his chest and his pecs. Leon sucks in a sharp breath, his hands moving to cradle the back of your head.

“Just kisses, huh?” he murmurs.

You nod, peering up at him “no fucking, remember?”

He hums, tilting your head so he can kiss you again. Leon kisses you over and over until you can’t breathe. You’re feeling so dazed that you don’t even notice he’s spinning you around, bending you over the kitchen counter. There’s a soft whine escaping you when he flips your skirt up, his hands squeezing at your ass before his fingers slip under your panties, tugging the fabric back and letting it snap back against you.

Your fingers are scrabbling at the counter top when you feel him drop to his knees, his lips pressing against the skin of your ass. He kisses your body so reverently, you think you might actually pass out.

“Wanna kiss your pussy too,” he mumbles, tugging your panties down. You shudder when you feel his breath hit your sensitive skin, hips swaying back to meet the kisses he places on your clit.

His tongue lolls out before long, lapping at your cunt, collecting the slick that drips from you. 

“That- that is not kissing,” you whimper out, head falling against the coolness of the counter.

“Sure it is,” he whispers, burying his face deeper into your pussy, “just dirty kisses, sweetheart.”

The way he eats you out is messy. Leon’s trying to shove his face deeper between your thighs, his lips suctioning around your pussy. You mewl when he draws back and spits on your cunt, his mouth latching on soon after. You’re not sure how much longer you can hold on, knees beginning to shake. Leon delivers a particularly toe-curling suck to your clit and you’re shuddering, letting out whines and whimpers when he lets out a low laugh, his tongue swiping over your cunt repeatedly.

“Leon- fuck! Leon, ‘m gonna-” you can barely speak properly. 

“Then come , baby,” he whispers, his tongue pressing into your fluttering hole.

You squeal at the unfamiliar sensation, knuckles turning white as you come on his tongue. He licks up your slick eagerly, his wet lips pressing soft kisses against the swell of your ass as you pant.

He stands up, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. You press your back against his chest, turning your head to kiss along his jaw. His eyes flutter shut, his hands smoothing along your back to undo the clasp of your bra. 

Your arms lift and Leon helps you take off your shirt and bra, letting out a soft sigh as your head falls back against his shoulder. Leon’s hands are restless, reaching for your breasts. 

He hums at the sight of your hard nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers before letting go to squeeze your tits. 

“You’re real pretty, sweetheart” he whispers, kissing your cheek.

You mewl, cheeks flushing. You hadn’t expected him to talk to you so sweetly. Leon feels your body lurch forward, tits pressing against his palms. He laughs, giving another firm grope to your tits and finds your lips to give you another filthy kiss. While he kisses you, Leon grinds his hips against your ass, and you gasp into his mouth, feeling the outline of his cock through his shorts.

“Think my cock wants to give your cute pussy some kisses too,” he says, his mouth pressed against your ear, “you up for it, baby?”

You could be a bobblehead with how fast your head is moving up and down. Leon grins against your ear, placing another kiss to your cheek before he’s bending you over the counter. The coolness of the counter startles you slightly, but Leon’s hand rubs up and down your back, warming your skin. 

Tits squished against the hard surface, your feet on the tips of your toes, pussy glistening with his spit and your arousal, Leon can hardly believe his fantasy has come to fruition. He wants to take a picture, keep it safe and jerk off to the sight of you when he’s alone. There’s no pictures taken though, instead Leon’s hand delivers a heavy slap to one of your ass cheeks.

You moan, back arching slightly as you try and chase the feeling. It hurts and you can feel the sting of his palm prickling across your skin, but you want him to spank you again so badly.

“L- Leon, want more,” you mumble, looking back at him.

Leon takes your request in stride, his hand coming down on your ass repeatedly. Your body slumps against the counter, soft noises escaping you as he rains slap after slap onto your reddening skin. 

“Shit, sweetheart” he whispers, his hands smoothing over the damage he’s done to your ass “so fuckin’ pretty.”

There’s a babbled noise escaping you. Mind feeling like mush, all you can think about is Leon. He smooths his hands over your sensitive skin a few more times, trying to soothe the pain before you feel him squeeze gently as he presses the head of his cock against your aching hole.

Leon pushes into your pussy with a groan, his hands squeezing at your hips. It almost feels like he’s trying to ground himself.

“Fuck-” he hisses, drawing his hips back to thrust back into you again, “ fuck - you’re so tight, baby.”

You whimper at the feeling of his cock stretching you out. Leon’s thrusts are beginning to pick up in speed and you’re whining, the force of his thrusts making your body rub against the kitchen counter.

“Leon, Leon, Leon,” you chant his name and his body is draping over yours, lips pressing kisses to your shoulder and back, “feels so good,” you slur. 

His hips are rutting against your ass, cock stuffing you full. You’re moaning so loudly that Leon has to slip his hand over your mouth in an effort to quieten your noises. His balls are slapping against your clit and the combined stimulation is making your head spin.

Soon, his hand is leaving your mouth to grip your hips again. 

“Take my fucking cock,” he grunts, each word punctuated with a harsh slap to your ass. 

“It’s too much!” you wail, nails clawing at the counter to try and crawl away.

He growls, grip tightening as he keeps you in place, “don’t you dare run. Take my cock like a good girl, baby.”

“You’re insane,” you cry, but there’s a cockdrunk smile spreading across your face as he fucks into you. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, his head lowering so he can whisper into your ear, “and it’s all for you, because- because I like you.” 

There’s a loud whine ripping out of you at that, wet heat clenching around him. No one’s confessed to you before, like ever . You suck in a sharp breath, trying to calm your heart and stop the excited flipping of your stomach that comes with his confession.

Leon moans when he feels the clench of your walls around his cock and he’s fucking into you with renewed fervor. 

“I like you,” he whispers again “like you so much, sweetheart. Always taking care of me, looking out for me, makes me feel special.” 

“Only do that ‘cause you’re an idiot, Leon” you mumble, swallowing back another moan that threatens to spill out. 

“But you do it anyway,” he murmurs, driving his cock into you.

You gasp, eyes squeezing shut as his fat tip grazes the spot deep inside of you. He grunts when he feels you getting tighter, feels you clenching hard around his cock.

“You gonna come for me?” he asks, sucking little love bites onto your neck, “hm? Can feel you clenching around me, baby.”

“Wanna- wanna come at the same time,” you babble “right, Leon? Since- since you like me, we gotta come at the same time.”

He’s letting out a hoarse laugh, kissing your shoulder again, “yeah baby, I’m right there with you.”

All of a sudden, he’s burying himself to the hilt inside of you and your mouth drops open, a sharp noise leaving you as you both come. Your body is limp against the counter, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you pant. Leon kisses your neck, letting out a whine as his cum spurts into you. It’s warm and thick, filling you up so perfectly that it has a serene smile settling on your face.

He helps you onto your feet, his hands rubbing up and down your sides to soothe your shaky legs. You feel him press a soft kiss to the side of your head and you’re rocking up on the tips of your toes, returning a kiss to his cheek.

“I like you too, Leon” you whisper, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him down for another kiss. 

You can feel him smile against your lips and he’s kissing you back sweetly. Leon keeps you there for a while as you both kiss, his hands petting across your tired body.

He takes you to his room later, his hand encasing yours. The moment is almost perfect, if not for the sock on the floor that sends you careening into his desk. “Leon!” you grit out.

He only laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist as he picks you up and tosses you onto his bed.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

[redtsundere-writes]

Price's beard is famous around base—a rugged, full, and commanding presence that spoke to both discipline and masculinity. That type of beard that's hard to grow and maintain. And there's his hair. An immaculately cut, effortlessly styled, and somehow looking even better every time he comes back for a mission. Soldiers always pester him to tell them who his barber is, but he always gatekeeps it. He never cracks. It's his best well-kept secret.

After months of deployment, his beard needed a refresh. He knocked on his neighbor's door, a cute hairstylist that does her family and friend's hair on her free time. You opened the door with a huge smile to see Price was back home safe and sound.

“The usual?” You asked, pulling a chair from the kitchen for him to sit in. It was part of the routine. A warm hug after months of not seeing each other, letting him in your house, offer him something to drink, and putting his favorite tunes on the speaker.

“You know it. Just work your magic.” Price trusted you completely, almost blindly. You had been his barber for years now. “How's the family?”

“Pretty good, captain. My lil sister is getting married next week. I'll be doing her hair, such a huge honor.” You placed the cape around his neck, breathing in his intoxicating scent with notes of amber and musk.

“That's wonderful news. You better send my congrats.”

“Will do, captain.”

You prepared your tools—your shears, straight blade, a new leather strap you bought recently. You really like when Price came by, it was the perfect opportunity to use your barber kit and practice with a handsome model. “The usual” was simple. Price was meticulous about his grooming, already keeping his hair in check with the products you’d recommended. It was just cutting the top of his hair, cleaning the edges of his beard and carve out sharp lines that framed that unmistakably strong jaw.

But it wasn’t just the cut that brought him back, he liked the nice chats and to admire how you worked. He loved the way you worked—slow, steady, deliberate. The way your tongue peeked out to focus on the details. The gentle press of your soft fingertips as you tilted his head. Unlike other barbers, you never asked any questions about his work, he didn't like to think about that on his free time. When he sat in your chair, the world outside didn’t exist. It was just the sound of the scissors, the warmth of your presence, and a fleeting sense of home.

“And this dickhead even has the nerve to ask: 'Are we fucking or are we splitting the check?' Like, what the hell?!” You were telling him how your last blind date ended as you cut the sides of his hair, making sure it didn't touch his ears because the tickles bothered him.

“What a fucking pillock!” Price gasped angry.

“That's what I said!” You huffed. “Who is raising these boys? I swear to god, my 8-year-old nephew is more a man than that bastard.”

“I always wondered why are you single, I think I have my answer now,” Price said.

“Look, I may be single, but I ain't desperate. I won't settle for anything less than a gentleman.” You scoffed as you finished the touch ups. “We are all done, handsome.”

You gave Price a mirror. He moved his head around to admire the details of your wonderful, usual, job. He felt like a new, clean man. You looked at him with a bright smile, satisfied with your job.

“I am telling ya, you were born for this,” Price said as you unbuttoned the cape.

“Aw, thanks, captain. You are always so sweet.” You blushed.

“How much do I owe you, luv?” Price pulled up his wallet.

“Oh, c'mon. You know it's always from the house.” You pushed the wallet from your sight, making him to put it back in his pocket.

“You can't be giving away your talent for free,” Price smiled. He liked the attention, but he didn't want to abuse of your kindness. “At least let me tip you.”

“Please, captain. I insist.” You looked at him straight to the eye. Your heart skipped a beat when he looked back at you with those dreamy eyes of him. He finally smiled in defeat.

“Fine, fine.” Price sighed, putting the wallet back in his pocket. “What about I take you out to dinner?”

“Captain, that's not necessary…” You chuckled.

“Not as payment,” Price interrupted you. “As a date. I can give you the real gentleman you want.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, catching you completely off guard. You hadn’t expected that—hadn’t expected him to be so direct, so effortlessly charming. Price took your hand and kissed your knuckles softly, his beard tickling your skin lightly.

You met his gaze, your smile breaking through before you could even think to suppress it. How could you say no? The most handsome client to ever sit in your chair had just asked you out—and you accepted without hesitation.

Masterlist.

[mywritersmind]

WALK ME LIKE A RUNWAY - LN4

summary : Lando doesn’t know anything about runways, especially a certain Victorias Secret runway that’s breaking the internet. When he gets the invite, it’s certainly a surprise, but with one old and one new friend by his side, he starts to see the appeal of this whole model thing. He likes it for one reason, and that reason is opening the whole show.

listen up : lando x vsangel!reader 💞✨ a bit long!! will prob be multiple parts if you guys like it!!

word count : 2192

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I don’t know how I got here or why I was invited. But as I sit in my assigned seat as the girl next to me stares at me, I can’t help but think that my invitation was for a reason.

I have a good feeling about tonight, maybe it’s because i’m about to watch pretty girls walk in underwear and wings, or maybe it’s because that girl I mentioned looks like she’s itching to tell me something.

As soon as I look at her, she starts, “You’re Lando Norris.” She's pretty, has a short bob, pale skin, and is examining me closely.

“Yeah…” I nod slowly.

“Sorry. Big fan!” She laughs, “What are you doing here?”

“Good question… I was invited. Actually, my mate Carlos is supposed to-” As if I spoke him into existence, the driver plops down next to me, “Hey!”

He grins and nods at the girl, “I’m Kay! My best friend is in the show!” I like Kay. She’s eyeing Carlos like he’s a piece of meat and it’s hilarious.

“So I don’t really understand… Why this runway is big a deal.” Kay practically scoffs in my face and immediately dives in, giving Carlos and I all the lore. After ten minutes of throwing random facts and stringing the whole story line together, I stop nodding and the lights go out.

“This is exciting.” Carlos nudges me, like he’s some big fan or something. Then again it’s a lingerie company so he’s probably a big supporter. “So your friend, how long has she been a model?”

“Forever!” Kay nods, lowering her voice and talking to Carlos across me, “But this is huge because it’s her first show with Victoria Secret and she’s opening it!”

The music starts and a motorcycle with a girl on it comes up from the stage, she starts singing and everyone is going absolutely crazy for her.

Carlos is basically dancing in his seat next to me and Kay is singing along, clapping her hands together.

I try not to think about awkward interview Carlos and I did on the pink carpet, the woman looked stunned that we were even there.

I focus on the girl singing again, it’s quite fun, I feel like i’m at a concert. The lights go out and the singer and her backups are gone.

Kay hits my arm excitedly, pointing to the stage. That’s when I realize the stage is lifting someone up.

The first thing I see are the wings, pink, sparkly and huge. But then I see her.

Fuck being model pretty, this girl looks like a legitimate angel. She’s got long legs, an insane body that’s being accentuated by the white lace that’s practically dripping off her. She's got long wavy hair that is streaked with highlights, and as soon as she starts walking I understand it.

She’s got confidence, fucking power. The room breaks into screams and applause as she grins, god her smile.

She’s elegant, beautiful, and breaks her model smize as she turns in my direction. She blows a kiss to Kay and the smile she pulls has me catching my breath.

The wings she’s wearing starts to move, almost growing above her. She stops at the end of the runway, poses, then walks back. People are screaming her name and she winks at them, turning back to face the end of the runway, she gives a tiny wave before women on both sides of her amerge.

Carlos hits me in the chest, “Dude!” He laughs, “You star struck or something?” Kay giggles.

“I- Why does everyone know her if this is her debut?”

“It’s her debut as an angel! Not a model! She’s a complete fan favorite!” Kay claps as the girls continue to walk, they’ve all got lingerie on and look amazing.

I can’t quite seem to shake her face out of my mind. The show goes on, the performances are fun and I can tell who’s the most awaited models because the crowd is quite opinionated.

My favorite is definitely the woman with a sick guitar. Who wouldn’t want to see pretty girls walk while rock music plays?

I may or may not fan-boy over Cher. My mum is a super fan so I make sure to take videos. And as that icon is performing, My eyes catch again.

She’s in full red and I wonder why I've never been to a fashion show before.

Kay catches me staring again, “Yeah- you’re definitely meeting her after this.” I laugh uncomfortably, smiling at the shit eating grin on her face.

“Tyra!” Kay screams next to me, I watch a tall woman with very big hair appear from the floor, the panels behind her open and all the models flood in.

I clap along with everyone else, watching the girls celebrate and smile at one another. Confetti falls on us as Kay spins around.

We stand and clap for them, before they leave and a voice thanks us for watching. I’m in a haze by the time the lights come up, “That was cool!” Carlos grins.

“Hey so because Lando was making goo goo eyes at my best friend-” I side eye her, “You two should come to the after party! Y/n and I are hosting some friends!”

I’d be an idiot to say no.

⋆｡‧˚

They share a studio apartment overlooking the city. Carlos grabs a beer before we start looking around and meeting people.

Carlos is off talking to Kay when I walk into the kitchen, looking for some water. There’s a girl standing on her toes, trying to grab a box of what looks like cereal from a top shelf.

I freeze when I realize it’s her. What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t even talk to a girl? Come on.

I clear my throat and go to tap her shoulder but she starts talking before I can, “No you can’t have sex in my bed, if you’re gonna throw up, do it somewhere that’s not my apartment, and no smoking inside! My landlord will-” she spins around in a little pink dress, looking pissed off.

She clocks the confused look on my face and stops talking, “I’m not looking to have sex in your apartment…” not yet at least. Shit, Lando shut up! “Or throw up. And I don’t smoke.”

She smacks her lips shut before laughing, “Sorry! Like three people have asked me that tonight!” She bites her bottom lip and I realize how close she is.

Now that I'm not twenty feet away from her, I look her up and down quickly. She’s got freckles, is blonder up close, and her half gone makeup fits her perfectly.

She blinks and I realize that I'm just staring at her.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Y/N’S POV

Why is this British man staring at me?

He coughs as I smile slightly, intrigued by this random man in my home, “Well if you’re not gonna ask me about any of those three horrid topics, what do you want?” I put my hand on my hip, watching his very pretty green eyes glance to the cereal I was trying (and failing) to grab.

He reaches up and grabs it with ease. He's not that much taller than me, I'm still short for a model and without my usual heels, he has a few inches up.

I take the box, “Thanks.” I open it immediately, sticking my hand inside the chocolate breakfast.

“I was just looking for water.” He shrugs, not meeting my eyes.

“I got you!” I perk up and rummage around in our fridge, handing him a bottle. I usually don’t give out our personal chilled stash, but I like this guy.

“Thank you.” He takes it, brushing my hand slightly.

“No problem!” I glance over to see Alex Consani practically in a plant, “Alex! Please don’t hurt Kay’s children!” I stomp away and get stampeded with conversations and questions.

I laugh, “You’ve told me like a million times! But thank you!” Kay knows it’s been my dream to walk for Victoria's Secret since I was little and didn’t even wear a bra.

She squeals, “Oh I gotta have you meet my new friends!” She drags me to the corner where some people are standing, “Carlos! This is my best friend ever, Y/n! Y/n this is Carlos! He’s super cool!” She leans in to whisper, “and super hot.”

I choke on a laugh, shaking the guys hand, “Nice to meet you!”

“Pleasure! Kay’s been talking you up since the show.” He is hot. He’s got a spanish accent and dark hair, exactly Kay’s type.

“Oh you were at the show?” I say, not realizing he was there with Kay.

“Yeah! Me and-” he looks around, “Norris?” He turns and grabs a guy by his collared leather jacket, “Lando!” He spins him around and I realize it’s the guy who I gave water to.

Kay nods excitedly, “Lando and Carlos were totally cheering you on! Especially Lando.” She tries to whisper the last part but fails.

I don’t miss the look that settles over Lando’s face. Lando, hmm. Interesting name. “Hey.” He nods, sipping his water as I smile.

“Hi! I’m Y/n.” I eye his curls, I like his hair a lot already.

“Anyway- They've only been to New York like two times! We’re showing them around this week!” I try to seem interested but I can’t really focus on Kay when Lando is giving me all his attention. “Carlos, I love this song!” She grabs him by the hand and they’re gone in a second.

Lando and I glance at them, then each other, then laugh, “She’s got a lot of energy.”

“It’s the ADHD.” I sigh, standing next to him and looking around my apartment, “So… you liked the show? You don’t seem like the type.”

“I don’t seem like the type to enjoy pretty girls walking in lingerie while a concert is going on?” He raises a brow and I roll my eyes.

“Typical!”

He reaches a hand out, “Hey hey- I’m kidding! I did enjoy you walking, though.” It’s my turn to raise a brow now. “Kay said it was a big thing- opening the show.”

I nod happily, “Huge! Like made my career completely worth everything I've been through and sealed it for me that i’ve made it…” I trail off, realizing I'm telling this to a complete stranger, “Sorry you probably don’t care.”

He frowns, “Of course I do. I get it.” He shrugs and for some reason, I completely believe him.

I tilt my head, “Do you wanna go outside?”

My words land us outside on my balcony, I'm wrapped in a blanket with a beer in my hand. Lando clinks our glasses and looks out at the view, “So what do you do?” I sip my beer.

He sighs, leans his head back on the glass, “I’m a racing driver.”

This takes me aback severely, “What.” I say it so bluntly that he laughs.

“I drive in Formula 1.” My jaw literally drops.

“That’s sick! You win yet?” He looks young, probably a year or two older than me.

The grin he gives me makes me feel nauseous in a weirdly good way, “Yeah. Kinda my ‘I made it’ Moment, too.”

It’s easy to talk to Lando. There’s something about him that makes me comfortable even though we’ve just met. That’s dangerous, especially for me.

He tells me that he lives in Monaco (of course he has to live far), and that he travels most of the time. This is good, I tell myself. I feel like this is going somewhere and it’s perfect if he just leaves after tonight!

I feel this way because Lando’s eyes keep flicking down to my lips.

I explain how I moved from California to New York after modeling for a bit in LA, “I’m Twenty Two.” I shrug, singing the song a big.

“Shit.” He brings the bottle to his lips again as I scoff.

“Right…What are you? Twenty six?”

He almost chokes on the drink, “Twenty six!? Tell me you’re lying!”

I laugh at his reaction, “No! Tell me how old you are!”

He shakes his head, a curl falling onto his forehead, “I’m Twenty four, you muppet.” I slap my hand over my mouth to quiet my laughter.

“Muppet!?” I laugh, my head falling back.

“Yeah, you’ve made me feel all old.” He shakes his head.

“I like your accent.” I just say it. I don’t know why I do, well, when I glance at the bottle in my hand I have a guess.

He smiles, his eyes reflecting the city lights, “Thanks, love.”

“Love?” I eye him, “You’ve got that winner attitude, pretty cocky.”

He runs his tongue over his teeth, “Not cocky, just hopeful.” I shake my head, looking away from him and focusing on the night sky. I am so fucked.

[freelancelobotomy]

౨ৎ˚₊𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐘 [𝐒.𝐑]

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

𐙚⋆.˚Summary: Spencer is smitten for the T.A. at Penelope’s art class. And he just might have a chance with her.  ⋆˙⟡♡WC: 2.3k

⊹܀˙CW: Suggestive language, Derek is half neked (for plot reasons of course), Spencer wants y/n so baddddd, Reader is described to have hips (the pic is to show the maxi skirt that I imagined), Reader has long hair.

♪‧₊˚A/N: hiiiiii I love this song + it came on my shuffle yesterday and it gave me an idea so yk I had to get to WORK. I hope u like. If this gets over 100 notes ill write Gravity pt 3. Okay bye bye

Spencer had agreed to take both Derek and Penelope to Penelope’s art class that night since her car wouldn’t start and Derek’s had gotten towed for being parked on the street too long while they were in Florida for a case. Derek wasn’t taking the class with Penelope—he was the model for it.

“It’s a life drawing class,” she had explained, giddily. “They saw Derek pick me up last week and the professor asked him to model for us today. And to bring baby oil.”

The art room was bright and beautifully decorated, with an abundance of ferns and vines and all sorts of greenery adorned onto the walls.

The professor had smiled as the three of them approached the stool that Derek was supposed to perch on during class.

“Penelope! Derek! Happy that you could make it. You can change in the supply closet on the left,” Professor Andi had gasped. “Did you bring some oil? I have linseed oil from my oil painting class earlier today that you can use if you didn’t.”

“I got some, don’t worry, Doc,” Derek had said with a wink before making his way to the supply closet and shutting the door behind him.

“Who is this? Are you here for the class?” Professor Andi had beamed.

“Oh… no. I’m Spencer. I was just dropping off—”

You had walked into the room, your hips swishing in your maxi skirt as you balanced a tower of sketchbooks in your arms.

“Y/N! Hi!” Penelope had smiled. “Do you need help?”

Spencer’s legs had started moving on their own toward you, taking four of the sketchbooks from your stack.

You had smiled politely at the tall man. “Thank you.” The both of you placed the sketchbooks on the table..

“You’re welcome,” he said, his gaze lingering on your face. Beautiful, he had thought, a warmth spreading through him. The first thing he had truly noticed were your lips—the way they curved into a smile as you spoke, their delicate movements as you formed each word. You wrapped Penelope in a hug.

“Oh,” you sighed, a faint blush gracing your cheeks. “How rude of me. I’m Y/N. Professor Andi’s TA. You must be Derek,” you had said, offering your hand.

Spencer, despite a fleeting thought about germs, had found himself wanting to hold it. Your touch was light, and your nails were a pretty pale pink. What would it feel like to have those hands explore…?

Spencer had cleared his throat, a nervous laugh escaping him. “I’m not Derek. I’m, uh… Doctor Spencer Reid��well, just Spencer. Please.” He had fumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets to resist the urge to reach for you again. “I’m Penelope and Derek’s ride.”

“My mistake, Spencer,” you had said, your eyes meeting his with a playful tilt of your head. “Will you be joining us today?”

Did you know the effect you had? It had felt almost cruel. He glanced at Penelope, who was practically begging with her eyes.

A subtle smile had played on his lips. “Looks like I will be,” he nodded, his attention already drawn back to you.

“Great! Come with me. Let’s get you a sketchbook,” you grinned, gesturing for him to follow, and he had found himself eagerly complying.

Your backside was just as pretty as your face. He watched you switch on the light in the supply room, the movement causing a soft sway of your hips that he couldn’t tear his gaze from.

You crouched down to the floor, rummaging through bins of pencils. The way your brow had furrowed in concentration was endearing.

“Have you ever taken art class before? Or just been creating independently?” you asked him, your voice a melodic murmur that had sent a shiver down his spine. Gravity had pulled your hair toward your face, showcasing the delicate slope of your neck—a sight that made his breath catch. He wanted to reach out, to feel the softness of those strands against his fingers.

“Neither. This is all sort of new to me,” he admitted, his chuckle betraying a hint of nervousness—a vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show. Especially not to someone who already held his attention so tightly.

“I see,” you said, picking up a large sketchbook and a brand new case of pencils and blending stubs. “Well, what do you like to do in your free time?” Your eyes met his for a fleeting moment, his stomach fluttering.

He had taken the supplies from you, his fingers brushing against yours—a brief touch that sent a jolt of electricity through him. He wished the exchange could have lasted longer, wanted to linger in that delicate contact. He spent too long just looking at you, memorizing the curve of your smile, the way your eyes sparkled. Words, he had reminded himself. He needed to say something meaningful, something that would capture your attention as completely as you had captured his.

“I like reading,” he managed, his voice slightly rougher than intended.

You waltzed past him to re-enter the art room, your perfume drifting toward his senses. Hmm… Fresh. Pear maybe? The scent was intoxicating—a promise of sweetness that he desperately wanted to explore. He would’ve followed that fragrance anywhere, even into the deepest ocean.

“Me too. Um… what’s your favorite book?” you asked.

He paused. You wanted to talk to him. The realization sent a thrill through him. What timeline was he in right now? This had felt like a dream.

“I enjoy everything that I read,” he replied. He had known it was a terrible answer, a deflection, but his mind was still reeling from your nearness.

“Okay, but there’s got to be a standout,” you chuckled, raising a brow. Cute. The simple gesture had made him swallow hard.

“Well, recently I’ve been re-reading Orwellian literature, so something of that nature. As of the moment I’ve been particularly enjoying 1984.” He wanted to impress you with his intellect, hoping to find some common ground, some way to bridge the distance between you.

“Ooh,” you sighed, “That’s a good one. Mine right now is probably…” You trailed off, thinking as you opened a fresh kneaded eraser for him. “Lord of the Flies,” you had decided. “Works that ask the question if evil is ingrained into our morality are some of my favorites. I find them the most stimulating,” you said, your eyes holding a captivating intensity.

It hadn’t been suggestive in the slightest the way you had said it, yet it had stirred something within him—a deep need to know you. To know where you came from and the places you'd been. He had managed a curt nod, his usual eloquence deserting him as he had found a seat next to Penelope, his gaze still drawn to your every movement.

After Professor Andi gave a quick review (or introduction, for Spencer) of value and shape, Derek had stepped out of the supply closet, glistening like a glazed donut. The women in the class had turned to each other, giddy and excited. He had taken his place on the stool in the middle of the circle of chairs. Derek smiled at Spencer and Penelope before striking a pose.

Spencer didn’t give a shit, though. He had been staring at you as you peeled a clementine at your desk, the delicate way your fingers manipulated the fruit utterly mesmerizing. You popped a slice into your mouth before wiping the residue from your hands and taking your sketchbook in hand. He imagined the sweetness lingering on your lips—a dangerous thought that made his chest ache. He’s never wanted someone so badly before.

Professor Andi had put on her Bossa Nova playlist. How fitting. Your hoop earrings, the faint flush on your cheeks—you had looked like how Bossa Nova sounded: pleasant and dreamy, an ethereal vision that he had felt he could only admire from afar.

You had begun sketching furiously, a small pout forming on your lips in concentration, your brow furrowed. The intensity of your focus had been incredibly alluring. He had found himself wanting to be the subject of that fierce gaze, to have you study him with such intent. He envied the loose leaf paper of your sketchbook and your 6B pencil that had the privilege of feeling your touch uninterrupted.

“Why haven’t you started yet?” Penelope whispered—not so subtly. It snapped Spencer from his haze, the spell you had cast momentarily broken.

“Huh—what?”

“Your page. It’s empty. Why?”

“Just thinking of how to approach this, is all,” he lied, his mind still replaying the way your hair had fallen across your neck. Penelope had narrowed her eyes but had chosen to let it go.

He had desperately wanted to impress you, to create something worthy of your attention. The thought of your opinion consumed him.

Spencer had somehow managed to find the control to start drawing a half-naked, oiled-up Derek, but his values had gotten a little muddy. He had needed to block out the highlights like Professor Andi had said in her brief lecture. But his kneaded eraser was stiff and wouldn’t warm up in his hands, no matter how long he had pressed it between his palms.

“Do you need help?” 

“Uh, yeah, my eraser won’t soften.”

“Y/N,” Penelope said, calling you over with a smile. You peered up from your sketchbook and smiled as you got up to approach her.

“How can I help?” you asked, bending over slightly with your palms on your thighs to be within earshot of Penelope.

“Spence needs help getting his kneaded eraser to knead,” she whispered, biting back a smile.

“No problem,” you smiled, dragging a stool next to him and sitting down. You had leaned in close to get a glance at the eraser. Pears, he had thought.

“Is it hard?” you asked. Ironic, he had thought.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I’ve never done this before. I don’t know how to.”

“You’re totally fine. It happens to me all the time. Here. I’ll help,” you had said, taking his hands into yours. “See this part of your thumb?”

Your long, delicate fingers had softly rubbed the joint below the pad of his thumb. Spencer had nodded, his mouth suddenly dry.

“You’re going to press it against this joint,” you had said, your fingertips now tracing the second joint of his index finger. “And rub the eraser between your fingers to warm it up.” You had placed the square, unkneaded eraser in the described position and guided Spencer’s hands to repeat that motion over and over until his fingerprint had appeared in the softened eraser. Spencer had hoped you wouldn’t notice how badly his hands were shaking as you held them.

“Okay, good job,” you had said, a soft warmth in your voice. Jesus. “Now stretch it with two hands like putty, then roll it into a ball.”

Your molasses gaze had flickered over his fingers, briefly meeting his. He had your complete attention in that moment and he literally had no idea what to do with himself. He had rolled the now-soft eraser into a ball.

“Perfect. Now you can use it.” You smiled at him—a genuine, captivating smile that had sent a jolt through him—before moving your stool away.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice a little rough. You nodded politely before returning to your sketchbook.

Spencer had made the decision that he was going to try his absolute hardest to impress you. He had known it was probably stupid, but it hadn’t seemed impossible, and he had thought he had a good shot at making it work.

By the end of the class, everyone had given their sketches to Derek for him to keep. Spencer had handed his to Derek. Derek’s brows had risen.

“You did this?”

“Yeah,” Spencer croaked dryly, his mind elsewhere. He had been watching you through the mirror near the door. You had ripped out two pages and then gotten up from your seat.

“It looks good, actually. Nice work, pretty boy,” Derek had said, clapping him hard on the shoulder.

“Hi Derek, nice to meet you,” you said nicely, smiling. You had handed him your portrait, which—of course—had put everyone else’s to shame, Spencer’s included. You made polite small talk with Penelope until they had eventually needed to leave.

Spencer lingered in the doorway. Ask for her number. Stop being awkward and aloof for five seconds of your life and ask her. But what if you never called him? Should he ask you to coffee instead? Or lunch? You seemed like a brunch type of girl—

“Doctor,” you whispered.

Spencer had turned around, his heart leaping. “I have something for you,” you had said, walking toward him.

“For me?” he asked, a hopeful tremor in his voice.

You handed him something—it was a portrait. Of him.

“I did it after I finished Derek’s.”

It was beautiful. He looked beautiful. The delicate lines of the shadows sketched by your hands, the slope of his nose, the shape of his lips… it had been him, and it had been wonderful. And it had been by you. You had observed his face and felt the need to put pencil to paper.

“Would you like, um—Y/N… Do you want to get coffee with me sometime next week?” he stammered, the question tumbling out in a rush. A slow, knowing smile had crept onto your lips, and you had nodded. Unbelievable.

“Yeah, I’d love to, Spencer,” you chuckled breathily, the sound like a melody to his ears.

“Really? Could I… get your number?” he had asked, his gaze fixed on yours.

“Flip it over,” you said, brushing past him, your scent lingering in the air again.

He had followed your directions. Your number had been scribbled on the back of the portrait. “Bye, Spencer.”

He watched you get into your car as Penelope and Derek laughed about something.

Your car had pulled out of the driveway, and you had honked the horn.

Penelope had smirked at Spencer. “Someone made a friend.”

“I saw her helping you ‘knead your eraser.’ I can tell she likes you.”

“You think?” Spencer had asked, biting back a grin.

He sure had hoped so—because he was already obsessed with you.

borders from: @muffiinss

I love jeff buckley

Tags:

[snail-day]

God, thinking about hair stylist! Suguru who just pampers you endlessly whenever you're in his chair. You’ve known each other since childhood, and even then, he was constantly playing with your hair, violet eyes bright with excitement as he begged you to let him try new styles or colors - requests you playfully denied until he earned his professional license.

Well. Now he’s licensed.

The salon practically worships him, clients lining up just for the chance to sit beneath those skilled, tattooed hands. Just to catch a glimpse of the way the light catches in his silky, dark hair, always tied back into a loose, low bun, or how the sun glints off the silver and gold piercings lacing his ears, giving him that ethereal look. that screams, out of your league.

There’s a bowl tucked behind the reception desk, filled with phone numbers scribbled on receipts and café napkins. Mostly women. A few bold men. He never throws them out. Claims he’s “not a heartbreaker,” says it with a foxlike smile and a shrug, as if he’s the one being courted against his will.

Yet, no matter how overbooked his schedule gets, no matter how many influencers, models, or high-paying clients beg for a slot, he always makes room for you.

Always.

Even cancels on celebrities from time to time. Especially one in particular, with annoyingly white hair and a cocky grin.

“I told him I had someone prettier to take care of,” Suguru says easily, lips twitching into a little smile as he greets you at the door. "He didn't take it well." As he pulls you to his chair, violet eyes meet yours in the mirror as he drapes the cape over you.

You blink. “Satoru?”

Suguru hums. “Didn’t say that.”

His fingers slide into your hair, his touch gentle, slightly sensual, and lingering between sections. “You’re my favorite client, princess,” he muses, gaze softening as he combs through your strands. “The usual?”

Before you can reply, he tuts, already inspecting your ends with mock dismay. "You haven’t been using the leave-in I gave you, have you?” His voice like silk, but there’s a scolding tone as he reaches for the product. “What am I gonna do with you?”

You try not to get distracted by the way the sunlight catches on his earrings, the gentle glint of his rings as his hands move expertly through your hair. But it’s impossible not to watch him, his focus, his elegance, the way he bites the inside of his cheek when he’s trimming. Causally measuring the strands, the soft brush of his fingers on your cheek when he's looking at you so intently.

And then he tilts your chin up with two fingers, knuckles brushing against your skin. “Look here for me, princess,” he says lowly, voice dipped in honey. You meet his gaze, heart skipping when his thumb strokes the line of your jaw.

“Perfect,” he whispers, mostly to himself.

You barely recover before he adds, casual as ever, “You always make my chair look good. Practically the prettiest girl I know.” You flush. Suguru grins.

And then comes the massage while he's washing your hair. His broad fingers working slow, hypnotic circles into your scalp, coaxing little sighs from your lips. It’s impossible not to melt. His touch borders between sinful and affectionate.

“So,” he murmurs, voice teasing at your ear, “seeing anyone special lately?”

When you say yes, there’s a pause. Barely noticeable. But you’ve known Suguru too long not to catch it. His hands still for a second too long. His smile tightens, almost imperceptibly.

“Is that right?” he echoes, leaning down until his breath fans your skin. “They must be so lucky…” Another pause. His voice lowers, warm and smug. “Though I can’t imagine anyone appreciating you quite like I do.”

You barely manage a sound as he shifts gears again, moving to blow dry your hair, playful but professional, brushing a curl behind your ear, only to messily tuck another strand back, pretending to fix it with a smile. “You’re impossible to improve,” he murmurs. “But I’ll keep trying anyway.”

Suguru doesn’t rush with you. Never has. He moves with the kind of care that makes time feel like it stretches, each moment a little sweeter than the last. His fingers glide through your hair, gentle as possible, his voice low as he murmurs between motions:

“Let me get this just right,” or, “Only perfection for my girl.”

And when he finally spins the chair around, revealing your reflection in the mirror, already moving behind you. tousling your hair a little to really showcase his work before his hands rest gently on your shoulders, thumbs grazing the fabric of your cape with the softest touch. His midnight gaze meets yours in the mirror, warm, and so unflinchingly soft it makes your stomach do a small flip.

“Beautiful,” he says, voice quiet, meant to be under his breath.

You make a small, flustered sound, and you’re grateful, almost embarrassingly so, when the door opens behind you. His next client. Saved by the bell. Nearly jumping to pack up your things.

Suguru steps back with a soft chuckle, already calling out a lazy greeting over his shoulder, but not before giving you a little wave. That same slow, familiar wave he’s always given you since you were kids.

[eufezco]

THE MUSE

Benedict needs to practice female form. Naked female form. And who better to help him than his lifelong friend?

Benedict x fem!reader (smut with plot, friends to lovers) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)

Benedict didn't know how to ask you.

You had been friends for a long time, your families were practically one. Always so united, your mamas took walks every afternoon, gossiping about the ton and your fathers had been friends since childhood. You and Benedict were bound to meet.

You and he grew up together. You were friends with his siblings, you had held sleepovers with his sisters and won cricket matches against his brothers. Lady Violet Bridgerton loved you like a daughter and your mother loved Benedict like a son.

But your friendship with him had always been special.

When you were twelve, you ran away together to camp on the riverbank, just because Benedict wanted to draw the moon reflecting in the water at night. The following year, despite the scolding you received for your river adventure, you and Benedict sneaked onto private land just to pluck a few petals from the summer sunflowers to get him the perfect shade of yellow.

You and Benedict were very close. Of course, there had always been rumors about what kind of relationship you two had and that Lady Whistledown had only added more fuel to the fire writing about you two in her pamphlets. You and him never cared about that, and neither your families but it was true that you two have had to face some uncomfortable conversations with them about it.

That's why Benedict didn't know how to ask you. You had a lot of trust in each other, you had always supported his artistic vocation but perhaps this was too much.

—Oh, thank God you've come. I am in need of a model —. It was the first thing Benedict said to you when you entered his studio. The maid closed the door behind you, leaving you alone with him. Thank goodness the Bridgertons' service was very discreet, if anyone found out that you and him were alone in a room it would cause quite a scandal.

—Good evening to you too, Benedict.

—My apologies. Good evening —. He leaned to kiss your cheek.— I need a model —. He let you know one more time.

—How have you been? Very stressed from what I can tell —. You tried to have a normal conversation with him before you paid attention to what he required.

—Indeed.

You sighed. —Well, what is it? I thought we were going for a walk.

He nodded. —We can go outside later. But I need to get this done by tomorrow and I feel like I'm losing my mind.

—And...?

—I need practice female form.

You slowly nodded. You were aware that Benedict had been recently attending this art academy, you were happy that he was finally able to pursue his passion and you couldn't deny that within the characteristic desperation of the artists, he looked very attractive. Benedict's hair was a mess, his white shirt was half-open, his sleeves were rolled up. He would never have allowed himself be seen in society like that and you were grateful because otherwise he would have all the girls after him.

—And you want me to...?

—Pose for me.

You weren't quite sure how to do it but it seemed easy and fun. All the times he had drawn you, he had done it when you were distracted, reading, having tea with his sisters... The pencil moved effortlessly across the paper when he saw you laughing with Daphne or playing with the cards that Colin had brought back from his trip to Spain. He was already too embarrassed to admit each time he drew you and Anthony teased him by saying that if he didn't propose to you, he would show you his drawings, and Benedict's heart skipped a beat because he knew that his older brother was not known for being a joker.

Benedict still didn't know how he was going to ask you, maybe it was better to just let it out.

—And what shall I do? Just stand here? Like this? —You laughed and made a dramatic pose like the ones you saw in the paintings in the gallery you visited together.

—I need you to ...

Benedict swallowed nervously. He looked down at your dress and then directly into your eyes. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to finish. You also looked at your dress to see if there was something wrong with it.

—Benedict I don't think I understand what you are trying to say—

—I need to practice naked female form.

Benedict immediately noticed your horrified face. He wanted to go back seconds ago when he hadn't even asked but if it wasn't you, who would it be? —I will not draw your face. No one will know it is you. It will be purely professional, I just need a few minutes.

You bit the inside of your cheeks and decided to trust him when he said that it would be for professional purposes only. The unfinished nude sketches that made your cheeks burn when you saw them as you entered his studio showed you that Benedict found no inspiration in the bodies of the academy models. After a nervous swallowing, you nodded and Benedict's face lit up. He hugged you but you didn't have time to hug him back because he quickly went to prepare the canvas.

—Is the door locked? —You asked him as you shed the little jacket that covered your shoulders along with your gloves. Benedict rushed off to lock it and before he returned to his position behind the canvas. You called his name and gulped, your hands failing in their attempts to unzip your own dress. —May I please get some help?

—Oh, yes, of course. My apologies.

Benedict stood behind you, his fingers brushing the skin on your back as he began to slowly unzip it until the dress slid down your body and fell at your feet. Benedict felt like he had to look away, as if in a few seconds you would not be completely exposed to his eyes. He offered you his hand to help you get up on a small pedestal that he had in his studio. Once you got rid of your underwear, you felt vulnerable but not as vulnerable as when Benedict ran his eyes over your body from his position and with the paintbrush already in his hand.

He let out all the air he had in his lungs, he couldn't take his eyes off you. Benedict could not deny that he had imagined it on many occasions, but reality far surpassed his imagination.

—What... What should I do, Benedict? —You hugged yourself.

—Put your arms down and stand like that. You look perfect, darling.

Your cheeks burned after that. You did as he said. His brow was slightly furrowed in concentration as his eyes went from the canvas to you and back to the canvas. Benedict asked you to turn around and he squeezed his eyes tightly after seeing your bare ass. Purely professional, this was purely professional, he had to remind himself.

Benedict grabbed a wooden chair and walked over to you. Your heart skipped a beat once he was so close to your naked body and he felt the exact same. He placed the chair next to you and invited you to sit on it. He nodded slowly when you did, focusing on the new position of your body. Benedict went back behind the canvas and made a few sketches.

He cleared his throat. —Would it be possible if you... Could you spread your legs?

Your cheeks grew hot and you squeezed your thighs together.

The knot you had in your stomach got tighter and you felt your chest rise and fall slowly thanks to your deep breathing. You straightened your back in the chair and you did as Benedict asked. You felt the air of the room caressing you in that warm and wet area and he held his breath, his chest puffing out as your legs slowly opened for him.

—You are beautiful, darling. Do not be ashamed —. Every new inch he discovered of your body made you look more perfect in his eyes. It was as nice to see you as it was to paint you.

Your cheeks grew even hotter but this time it wasn't just your cheeks, your whole body was in flames starting with the area between your legs that was so exposed to his eyes.

—Could we try another position?

You nodded, relieved, you were sure it was painfully obvious the way you had gotten wet and you just hoped he was busy enough to not notice.

He dropped the paintbrush and got up from the stool on which he was sitting. Benedict felt the knot in his stomach grow tighter with each step he took closer to your naked body. You moved in the chair out of nervousness. Benedict leaned slightly over you. —May I? —He asked before touching your leg. His voice made you shiver, he was so close, you felt his hand brush against the skin of your thigh. You nodded and looked up at him while he repositioned your leg. Benedict's eyes meet yours, so helpless, his lifelong friend, was that innocence in your eyes, or was that...?

Lust.

Your hand grabbed the back of Benedict's head and pressed his lips against yours. His eyes widened in surprise but immediately after, his hands went to cup your cheeks as he fell to his knees in front of you. You opened your legs so he could place himself between them and be closer to you. The shameless hands of your friend traveled down your neck until they reached your breasts. You moaned against his mouth once he gave them a gentle squeeze, the soft palm of his hand brushing against your nipples.

Benedict left a trail of soft kisses from your cheeks to your collarbones and your breasts. He took one in his mouth as his hand played with the other, his tongue moving in circles around your nipple and sucking on it at the same time. Your breathing quickened and your lips parted to let out soft moans when Benedict's teeth brushed your sensitive nipple.

He let go with a pop sound and watched you gasp for air. Benedict placed his hands on the inside of your thighs and caressed your skin there before he slowly pushed them to open even further. His hands prepared you for him, his eyes asked for your permission. You nodded and Benedict flashed you a smile, that was all he needed. He peppered your thighs with kisses, taking small bites and kissing your sore skin afterwards. Your breathing deepened as his mouth got closer to where you needed him the most. He was so close he could smell you and oh Lord, his dick got hard as a rock at that moment.

You took a sharp breath when he licked from your entrance to your clit and savored your juices in his mouth. The image was completely sinful, his blue eyes were locked on you while his lips sucked on your bundle of nerves, his hands forced your legs to stay open for him. Your head was thrown back, your mouth was open in a perfect "O" form, your fingers digging into his scalp. Once he noticed the desperation in the way your hips rolled against his mouth, two of his fingers entered you easily. You stifled a loud moan, throwing a hand over your mouth.

Benedict hummed, sending vibrations to your clit.

—Talk to me. How does this feel? —He required.

—So good. It feels... —You bit down your lower lip, his fingers sank deeper. —It feels like heaven.

He was satisfied with your answer.

Benedict fucked you with his fingers until you had to grab his wrist to get him to stop, it was too much. Your legs closed around his head but his lips were still attached to your clit and he didn't stop until he heard how your moans turned into whines and cries, not until he noticed how your back arched off the chair and your chest rose and fell uncontrolled thanks to your panting. Benedict didn't stop, not until he felt how your pussy was clenching so hard that almost pushed his fingers out of you and he heard you moan his name one last time as your grip on his hair tightened.

He gave you all the time you needed to catch your breath, kissing your legs and intertwining his fingers with yours while you came down from your high. Benedict's blue eyes were locked on you making every effort to later recall every single part of you.

—How are you feeling, darling? —Benedict stood on his feet and held your hands so that you would stand up as well. Before you could answer his question, you both realized how your legs were shaking and laughed. At the same time, you felt Benedict's grip on your hands grow stronger to keep you from falling.

Benedict leaned in and kissed your lips in the sweetest possible way. The tickling sensation in your body that you felt when you were naked in front of him had turned into a different kind of tickling, now focused on your stomach. It was so familiar, you had felt it so many times when you looked at him but now, with his lips on yours and his hands treating you with so much affection and care, it was different.

You could confirm that it was not only lust but also love.

You hummed against his lips. —Wait, did you finish your drawing?

Benedict shook his head. —But, please, do not worry about that. I will help you get dressed —. You frowned confused and he gave a quick kiss to your lips so, as he had told you, you would not worry. —I can finish later. There's no way I'm forgetting your body, my dear.

[chamisulgrape]

watch me, watch me party on you 𖤐 [p.sh] pt.2

Months later, it's Milan Fashion Week, and you get to be the one watching Sunghoon this time.

ᢉ𐭩 part one | part two

pairing → sunghoon x afab reader word count → 7.1k tags → fashion industry setting, model au, nyfw, rivalry, yearningyearningyearning, models in love, established relationship smut tags → pwp, closet sex, barebacking (unprotected sex), sunghoon munches on reader (he’s a huge munch), lots of spit and wetness, use of petnames aka baby/darling, they're nasty and in love, dirty talk/minor degradation, face-grabbing, floor sex at one point…, reader is still in her heels while they canoodle :3 warnings → not proofread! a/n  → jungwon makes an appearance! pt.2 is finally posted, thank u to everyone who is supporting and loving them as much as i love them

♪ hands on your waist liquor is all that we taste your freckles lead the way i trace your constellations

minors dni.

Sunghoon has always had a certain something about him. 

It’s one of the many reasons you fell for him during your younger years. Sunghoon glows, radiates, even. He’s always had a captivating aura. Sunghoon attracts, and even you: stubborn and strong-willed, were weak to Sunghoon’s many charms. 

You aren't surprised that you’re walking the same path, both being models for your respective fashion brands, because it just makes sense for Sunghoon to be in this line of work. Sunghoon is a natural, he belongs in the spotlight. Sunghoon is made for the runway, for the stage. 

Sunghoon will always be famous, and you’re just another victim to the gold and temptation that is Sunghoon Park. Moth to a flame, as Sunghoon likes to call it. You would scoff and brush him off, speaking about how Sunghoon is no better, but you can’t help but admit that Sunghoon is right. You believe that there was no possible way you could ever escape from the likes of him.

Sunghoon is a magnet, and you will always be weak to his pull.

“_____! Look over here!”

You aren't a stranger to the blinding lights and the yells of your name, reporters trying to get your attention for a seven second video and the cameras in your face. Over the years you’ve learned how to handle them with ease. Perfect smile, candid poses, practiced responses. 

A mic outstretched a few inches away from you, a reporter quickly spits out her question before you can walk too far and she misses her opening. 

“How are you feeling today?”

As you always do, you greet the camera with the sight of your perfected media-smile. “I’m doing great.”

The reporter smiles, satisfied. “What are you looking forward to this afternoon?”

“Ah,” you grin, “I hear Sunghoon Park is opening the show today, I’m very excited to see how he performs.”

“He’s always the star of the show, isn’t he?” There’s a glint of interest in the reporter's eyes now. The world is well aware of the feud between XO and PARADOXX, and there’s never a day that goes by that netizens don’t have something to say about their rivalry.

The reporter opens her mouth to ask another question, but your security is already ushering you forward. She grins like she knows something you don’t. “Thank you for your time.”

You nod, sending a wave to the camera behind her as you move on. You make it a few steps before another reporter is trying to grab your attention.

“_____!” 

You turn to see Jungwon Yang, a beloved journalist and writer for a small up-and-coming magazine. You’re not a stranger to Jungwon Yang, either. You’re well-versed in the world of media, and you’ve heard of, as well as read a handful of Jungwon’s works in ENHA’s magazines and online articles.

“Good afternoon, Jungwon,” your smile feels more real this time, easy and less forced than it usually is. 

Jungwon’s smile is bright in response. “We’re all hoping to see you at tonight’s afterparty, will you be there?”

“Of course,” You nod, hand slipping into the pocket of your pants to rest comfortably. You lean in an inch, voice dropping to a faux whisper. “I’ve heard many things about the party's PARADOXX hosts.”

Jungwon lets out a laugh, shaking his head slightly. “I hope we get a chance to connect tonight, then, I’ve been very interested in speaking with you.”

“The feeling is mutual, Jungwon.”

“Would you mind taking a few pictures for our cameras?” Jungwon gestures to the side, and you nod again.

“It’d be my pleasure.” You say, stepping aside for Jungwon’s colleagues. 

The time flies by quickly, a blur of flashing lights and endless mini interviews. You’ve taken a few pictures for some big brands like Vogue and Elle, and before you know it, you’re seated along the front row waiting for PARADOXX’s show to start.

You’re buzzing with the anticipation of seeing PARADOXX’s new line. You know it’s going to be something worth the suspense since Heeseung, Jake, and Jay were adamant on keeping it under wraps this time. Aside from anticipation, your stomach is churning with the thought of seeing Sunghoon again. Sunghoon. Just the syllables of his name already has your heart thumping against your chest and your fingers twitching with the memory of Sunghoon’s body and how his skin feels underneath your fingertips. 

The moment the show starts, you feel it in your bones. The atmosphere becomes heavy with excitement and suspense, and the crowd settles down into silence, everybody holding their breath as low music plays overhead. You recognize the songs that Heeseung, Jake, and Jay constantly play in their studio, claiming it adds to their ambiance and vibes, and it’s so them that you have to suppress a smile.

You forget to breathe as the lights dim. It has you sitting a little straighter in your seat and leaning forward the slightest, your mind running on one recurring thought: Sunghoon. 

When Sunghoon steps out, all the air you were holding in your lungs is forced out of you, because Sunghoon is absolutely stunning. The trio have outdone themselves this time, and you might even battle that this outshines XO’s last New York Fashion Week show. Sunghoon is gorgeous underneath the fluorescent lighting, his skin glowing underneath the see-through fabric he’s wearing. 

The ombre of yellow to red tucked into the flowy pants he has on compliments his skin so well that you almost want to thank your friends for dressing Sunghoon in this specific outfit because God, you breathe out, Sunghoon is beautiful. 

Your mouth goes dry as you watch Sunghoon, so powerful, so charismatic and wordlessly charming that you wish you could get down on your knees and worship him for the man that he is—a God. Impure thoughts aside, you hold so much respect for Sunghoon. Sunghoon has been walking for a shorter time than you have, yet Sunghoon walks effortlessly, exuding so much grace and confidence that it seems like he’s been doing this for years more than you. 

You’re proud as you watch Sunghoon walk, and you find yourself gripping your phone a little tighter as the distance between them lessens. Sunghoon spots you, of course he does, and your hands tremble in your lap at the feeling of Sunghoon’s heavy gaze on you. It’s quick, Sunghoon glancing away faster than you can blink, but you catch the ghost of a smirk on his lips and it’s enough for you to know that Sunghoon saw you, that he’s thinking of you as much as you are him.

You release a breath as Sunghoon struts past you, and you can’t help the way you lick your dry lips with the anticipation of seeing Sunghoon later tonight.

They’ll have their moment when the time comes, and you will sit patiently, for the payoff is always very well worth the wait. 

“Did you see Sunghoon?” Sunoo breathes out once you’re at your hotel. “He’s amazing.”

Riki nods in agreement, ushering you into the suite so he can prepare you for your next outfit. “Of course he is, the people love him.”

“I see why you had a crush on him in high school now, he’s gorgeous,” Sunoo teases, lips pulling upwards, “we should’ve snagged him when we had the chance.”

“I—” You splutter. “Hey!”

“Sunoo, you know she gets embarrassed when you mention that,” Riki says, but he’s huffing out a laugh as he walks to the other side of the room. 

“It was so cute, though. You were always so smitten with Sunghoon,” Sunoo sighs. “Young love.”

You pout. “It was not cute, it was embarrassing.”

“Sunoo!” Riki calls out. “Come help me!”

Sunoo gives you another teasing look before going to help Riki with whatever it is that he needs. You huff, pulling out your phone from your pocket and opening Twitter. There’s already hundreds of pictures of you at the event, and you spend some time watching some of the clips that have been posted. You scroll through some hashtags aimlessly, before coming across pictures of Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon’s official Twitter account has already been updated with posts of him in his outfit from earlier today, as well as some behind the scene pictures taken before the event. You, embarrassingly enough, save a few of the pictures to your camera roll. You resist the urge to let out a squeak at a specific picture of Sunghoon, instead opting to close out of the app for the sake of your sanity. You’ll remember to text Sunghoon later and bring up these pictures and to ask for more.

When you throw your phone onto the bed, Sunoo and Riki have come back to lay an outfit next to you. It’s all black, that much you can tell, and the two seem excited to undress you and get you fitted as soon as possible.

“It’s perfect,” Sunoo says, and Riki hums. “You’re going to look amazing once we finish with your hair.”

You don't know why Sunoo and Riki opt for always styling you themselves without the help of a makeup or hair stylist, but you trust their vision and the two always argue that you're solely theirs to work on, and that it’s more personal this way. You are the face of their brand after all.

“Not that you don’t look amazing already,” Riki adds, “now strip.”

You obliged to Riki’s request, stripping down until you’re left in your undergarments. Sunoo and Riki give you a quick once-over, turning to each other and nodding. Sunoo helps you put your arms through the underside of the dress before tapping your ass lightly. 

“Sunghoon is so going to want a piece of you after this,” Sunoo says, and you make a squeaking noise.

“What the fuck, Sunoo!” You cry, covering yourself with your arms. “Am I just a piece of meat to you?”

“No! You’re a hot piece of meat,” Sunoo nods, satisfied once Riki finishes helping you through the dress. “You look good.”

“So good,” Riki finishes. The pair motion for you to put on your heels. Once you finish, Riki pulls out a small bottle of shimmering lotion to lather onto your chest. “Hold this open.”

You let them do their thing quietly, standing in silence until they finish. You get lost in your head for a bit, thinking of how you and Sunghoon have been fooling around for months in private, since the New York show, and how your friends are unaware about the whole situation. 

You’ve agreed to keep things under wraps, since the two of you don’t want it getting out to the media (and because you both agree that it’s a little more exciting this way), so you’ve been keeping it a secret. It’s fun to dance around your friends; hushed kisses in fitting rooms and closets when you’re at each other’s stores, silent looks that say more than you let on, quiet touches as you pass by one another. 

The two of you don’t feel a need to share this with the world, nor do they feel the pressure to put a label on what you have. You like knowing that Sunghoon is yours no matter your relationship, just you and Sunghoon. You’re Sunghoon’s, Sunghoon is yours. You’re only each other’s, and you like it this way. 

“_____?” Sunoo interrupts your thoughts. Dazed, you hum. “Head into the bathroom, we’re going to get started on your hair now.”

You can’t wait to see Sunghoon later tonight, and your mouth already waters with the expectancy of what’s to come. 

The afterparty tonight is hosted at a restaurant you’d never been to, given this is your first time in Milan. 

The only word to describe it is elegant. The lighting is dim and golden, and it’s bright enough that you can make out enough of a face of the people you’re talking to, and at least see his plate. Everything about today is so PARADOXXX, through and through. There’s glasses of champagne in front of every guest at every table, and Sunoo and Riki have already finished theirs and yours, minutes after you’re seated. 

You, Sunoo and Riki are seated at the same table as Heeseung, Jake, and Jay, and Sunghoon is still nowhere in sight. You imagine that Sunghoon is a busy man, having many guests to converse with tonight, so you don’t worry too much about him. 

You can’t help the way your mind wanders off as the five conversate at the table, but you pick up bits of their conversation; something about a new brand, studio, new location. When you come to, it’s by a nudge in your side.

“_____? Heeseung, Jake, and Jay were talking about their plans for the future. They're planning to open up a store here, what do you think?” Sunoo asks, reaching over to steal Jake’s glass from in front of him and replacing it with his empty one. Jake scowls at him, but makes no move to steal it back.

“Really?” You say, in awe. Jay, Jake and Heeseung have matching proud smiles on their faces. “That’s amazing, guys.”

“I know,” Heeseung says, puffing out his chest in pride. Jake scoffs with a small smile on his face, hitting Heeseung in the chest. Jake continues: “We’re thinking that everything will be finalized sometime later this year.”

“That’s great, seriously,” You smile, “don’t forget us when you throw that opening party.”

Jay rolls his eyes, “How could we ever? Those two,” he motions to Sunoo and Riki, “would never let us. Tried getting rid of them back in high school—the worst mistake of our lives—they’re like leeches.”

You laugh, shaking your head. Sunoo and Riki were always so enamored with the trio, following them around the world. You feel warm just thinking about it; how they’ve all been friends for years. You feel lucky to have found them, to have found your family. There’s nobody else you’d rather be working and spending time with. 

“Well, Heeseung, Jay and I have some interviews to do, but we’ll be back before the food is served.” Jake grins at them, already pulling Heeseung and Jay out of their chairs by the lapels on his blazer. “Look awake, dude.”

“I am!” Heeseung cries out as he follows Jake and Jay. 

The three of them watch as the trio get whisked away. Riki sighs, “I kinda… love it here.”

“Love what? Being in Milan, or being wherever they are?” Sunoo asks, curious.

“Both,” Riki decides after a second, and you turn to him at the same time that Sunoo leans in to pinch to his cheek.

“Me too,” Sunoo says, leaning so his arm rests on the arm of Riki’s chair. “Me too.”

You take this as your cue to leave, only after Sunoo and Riki make you pose for a few pictures, and you get up to wander around the venue. You make it to a more secluded area, when you’re stopped by someone whispering your name. You turn to see Jungwon Yang, dressed in a different suit than he was wearing earlier that day. 

“Hey! I thought it was you.”

You motion for Jungwon to take a seat on the couch next to you. “Hello, Jungwon.”

“I hope your day has been well, you look incredible.” Jungwon gives you a warm smile, and you return it. “If you’re not too busy, I’d like to talk to you. I wasn’t joking when I said that I’d like to write an article about you in our magazine.”

“Of course, Jungwon. There’s nothing I’d like more than to talk with you, article or not.” You reply, and Jungwon lets out a small laugh.

“You know, your reputation precedes you,” Jungwon says, tilting his head in curiosity. 

“I hope that’s a good thing,” you huff, still smiling. “What do they say?”

“Lots of things, you know how it is,” Jungwon just shrugs, not answering your question. “What matters more is the impression you leave on people, and the impression I have of you is a wonderful one.”

You purse your lips, features melting into something soft, nice. “I’m glad.”

“You’re interesting,” Jungwon’s eyes never stray from your, “I’m looking forward to writing that article.” Jungwon reaches into his suit jacket to pull out a little card. “Please contact me so we can set up a time and date to meet and talk. My colleagues would love to meet you as well.”

“Of course,” you say, again. “I’d love to. You know, you’re quite interesting yourself.”

“Am I?” Jungwon grins. “I hope that I’m interesting in the best possible way.”

“You are, your name is quite big in the world. You’re making a change, Jungwon.”

“Well,” Jungwon diverts his gaze to his lap, where he splays out his hands in front of him. Shy, a little bashful and honest, you perceive. “That’s the goal.”

“A good goal to have, there’s not many people like you,” you say after a moment. “Who wants to make a change for the better. Your writing says a lot about you already.”

“I’m glad,” Jungwon repeats your words from earlier, looking into your eyes again. “There’s not many people like you either.” “Good, I like to be different.” You say, and Jungwon laughs again.

You enjoy Jungwon’s company. Jungwon is like a breath of fresh air in this industry. There’s not many people you can talk to freely without the feeling of pressure and camouflage, but Jungwon seems like somebody you can trust and confide in. You trust Jungwon and his writing, and you have a feeling that you’ll be great friends in the future. Sunoo and Riki would love Jungwon, you think.

“You should meet my friends as well,” you break the silence. “I’m sure they’ll love you.”

Jungwon’s eyes light up at this. “Really? I’ve been wanting to talk to Sunoo and Riki for a while now, do you think they’re free at the moment?”

“Mm,” you purse your lips in thought. “I’m sure they can make time for you.”

Jungwon beams. “Great! Sorry to cut our conversation short, but contact me, I’ll keep in touch.”

You only nod, and Jungwon takes this as his cue to leave and most likely search out Sunoo and Riki. You watch him go with a smile, collecting your thoughts for a moment before standing up and stretching your limbs. You take a second to breathe, looking around at your surroundings. The place Jake, Jay and Heeseung chose is beautifully decorated, and you keep in mind to ask Sunoo and Riki to snap a few photos of you in different areas before the night is over.

You’re admiring one of the many paintings on the wall when you feel a light touch on your back.

“Tired already?” You turn to see Sunghoon, in the flesh.

“Sunghoon,” you breathe out. 

“_____,” Sunghoon echoes back. You can feel Sunghoon’s hand resting at the small of your back, touch burning through the fabric, heating your whole body. “I missed you.”

“Me too,” You smile, eyes roaming all over Sunghoon’s face. His makeup is different than it was at the show, now more soft and natural. “You were amazing today.”

“Thank you, you were too,” Sunghoon says, a smirk appearing on his lips.

“Me?” You question.

“Yes, you, you looked very pretty today.”

You hum. “Of course I did.”

“Of course you did,” Sunghoon shakes his head with a little laugh. “I’ve missed you.” “You said that already, Hoon,” your grin is soft, and you can see the soft look on your face mirrored in Sunghoon’s. “You saw me a couple weeks ago.”

“Weeks too many, I need to see you every day in order to function properly,” Sunghoon’s gaze rakes from your face to your feet, and back to your eyes. “Missed you so much.”

You can’t help the way your body practically melts at this. “You’re not good for my heart, Sunghoon.”

“You aren’t good for mine either,” Sunghoon licks over his lips, and your eyes follow the movement. “Sunoo and Riki have you all covered up today, don’t they?”

You let out a laugh, raising your arms to showcase the blazer you’re wearing over your dress. “Last time you thought I was wearing too little, now you think I’m wearing too much?”

“Well,” Sunghoon hums, “you have a body that deserves to be appreciated. How will I appreciate it when you’re all covered up like this, hm?”

“If you must know,” you lean in to press your lips to Sunghoon’s ear. “I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

Sunghoon lets out a sound akin to a muffled groan, fingers pressing harder against your back. “You’ll be the death of me.”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you don't have to look to know that it’s Sunoo and Riki telling you to come back to the table. 

“Worship me later, hm?” You step back to put some space between you two. “I’ll see you at the table, Sunghoon Park.”

Sunghoon’s smirk widens into a smile, showcasing his perfect teeth, the teeth you want to be pressed against your lips and skin later. “As you wish.”

Your eyes drop to Sunghoon’s lips before you force yourself to raise them to meet Sunghoon’s gaze that hasn’t strayed from you once. 

You take another step back. “I’ll hold you to it.”

“I hope you do.” Sunghoon winks, letting you out of his grasp. 

As much as you love Jake, Jay and Heeseung, you feel a little bad to admit that you’re feeling quite… over the party now. The food is great and you’re still having a great time, but it’s just too hard to focus on anything but Sunghoon, the man sitting right across from you.

Sunghoon has been nothing but distracting since you sat down at the table, god, Sunghoon is so bad for your health. Sunghoon, who has been running the tip of his shoe up and down your calf. Sunghoon, who has just grazed his shoe high enough to fit right between your thighs, pressing delicately against your crotch. 

Now, you know that Sunoo and Riki would scream bloody murder if they saw anything, especially a footprint, on the clothes you’re wearing, but the feeling of Sunghoon’s shoe pressed against your already damp core drowns out all the thoughts of explaining this to the two later. There’s nothing more that you want to do than grind against the bottom of Sunghoon’s shoe, just for the smallest bit of friction, but you really don't want the next fire on the internet to be about you sporting a damp spot and a shoe print in public. 

So, you let Sunghoon have his fun, try your hardest not to get wet, and keep a nonchalant smile on your face as you talk with the others. You take sips of your champagne, not enough to feel a buzz since your alcohol tolerance is weak and you don't want to lose control of yourself, not without Sunghoon here to take control for you.  

You can tell that Sunghoon is enjoying this, if the smirk he keeps sending your way is enough of a sign. Sunghoon hasn’t removed his shoe for the past hour, just resting between your legs, pushing harder sometimes and then lightening the pressure. Sunghoon shows no other indications of, well, anything, but you know when Sunghoon is bluffing; know him well enough to know when Sunghoon wants something, when he wants more, when he wants you.

Sunghoon hasn’t touched any of his champagne or food all night, other than picking at the appetizers and eating a few bites of his meal, opting to just mess with you under the table the whole night. You can tell that Sunghoon doesn’t have much of an appetite for anything but you.

Sunghoon shifts suddenly, removing his shoe from you completely and sending you a secretive smile when the ghost of a frown creeps onto your features. 

“I’m going to use the washroom,” Sunghoon says, glancing at you one last time before pushing his chair back so he can stand. “Anyone want to join me?”

“No thanks,” Heeseung grimaces. “Nobody wants to see that again.”

Sunghoon grins widely, a teasing smirk on his lips. “We went to the restroom together once. Nice to know that you were that intimidated.”

“Just go!” Heeseung groans, dropping his fork.

The night is still young and you know that Jay, Jake and Heeseung have no intention of letting the party end so soon, but you don't think that they’ll have a problem with you slipping away for a few minutes, or hours.

You wait a few minutes before following Sunghoon.

“Actually, I need to go too,” you stand, pretending to stumble a little. “Had a little too much to drink.”

You already made sure that everyone is drunk enough not to notice that you’ve been switching the cups around so your cup appears empty. “I’ll be back,” a lie. “Don’t wait up.” The rest barely acknowledge you, waving you off with their hands. You smile, satisfied, before making your way to where the restrooms are. You find the restrooms easily, secluded in an area towards the back of the restaurant. You knock a few times before you’re tugged away by the wrist.

“Sunghoon? Where—” 

Sunghoon tugs you along silently, a few feet away from the bathroom to a closet. When Sunghoon closes and locks the door behind him, the space is filled with darkness. The only sliver of light filtering through is from the door sill, even with the glow, it’s not enough to see anything. You can’t make out any of Sunghoon’s features, or see him at all, but you can hear the quiet breaths Sunghoon is letting out.

“Hoon?” You reach out blindly. You can hear Sunghoon’s footsteps as he takes a few steps closer.

“I’m here,” Sunghoon says, just as your fingers come in contact with his shirt. The fabric is soft underneath your fingertips, and you grip the material lightly before trailing your fingers down to find Sunghoon’s waistband, then moving back up just to feel him, to know that Sunghoon is really there. “Is this okay? Is it too dark?”

“No, no,” you breathe out, hands resting on Sunghoon’s chest. You indulge yourself, sweeping your hands up to rest around Sunghoon’s shoulders, satisfied once your fingers are in the hair at Sunghoon’s nape. “It’s perfect.”

Sunghoon ghosts his fingers down your hands to your arms down to your waist, holding you tightly. “You’re perfect.”

“You can’t even see me, Hoon,” you laugh lightly, tugging Sunghoon forward a few inches. You can feel Sunghoon’s breath on your nose now. “How do you know?”

“You’re all I’ve been looking at all night,” Sunghoon says. You feel his hand leave your waist and a beat later, a fingertip trailing from your temple to your jaw, then a featherlight touch from your forehead to your nose. “I can see you just perfectly.”

“Creep,” you whisper, but your heart is already turning to a puddle of goo in your chest, melting at the fondness dripping from Sunghoon’s fingertips. “I missed you so badly, you don’t even know.”

Sunghoon snorts, the sound maximized in the small space of the closet. “You love me.”

“I’d love you more if you said you missed me back, hm?” You pull him closer, lips brushing against Sunghoon’s.

“You already know how much I miss you,” you can feel Sunghoon’s words against your lips, and you crave so badly to press your lips to Sunghoon’s and swallow each and every one of them down. “I miss you more every day that I don’t see you.”

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder, does it not?” You smile, and you can feel Sunghoon mirroring it.

“It only makes me weaker,” Sunghoon brushes his nose against yours, and you can feel every bit of love through the gesture. “You make me weak.”

“Good, someone needs to be there to knock your pride down a notch,” you tease, and Sunghoon nips at your lips.

“I’ve missed this so much,” Sunghoon confesses for the millionth time that night. “Feeling you, talking to you, just—you.”

“Such nice words,” you hum, “how about you show me rather than telling me? I’ve been waiting for you to take this off of me the whole night.”

Sunghoon, like he just remembered that you’re completely bare under your blazer and dress, immediately takes the chance to start removing your coat. You shiver a little when Sunghoon finishes his ministrations, the air hitting your bare arms. 

Sunghoon’s touch is teasing as he reaches for the zipper of your dress, slowly unzipping it like you have all the time in the world. The sound of fabric hitting the floor makes your breath and stomach tense when Sunghoon runs his fingers along the planes of your now bare chest and down your stomach. 

“You feel so—unreal,” Sunghoon breathes out, as if he’s in awe. 

You laugh, stomach tensing against Sunghoon’s hand as you does. “You’re touching me, aren’t you? I think I’m pretty real.”

Sunghoon sighs through his nose and you feel it on your upper lip. “You’re still how I remember.”

“And how is that?” You ask, fingers still tangled in Sunghoon’s hair. “Mm,” Sunghoon pretends to think. “Snarky, cold, challenging.”

“Snarky?” You scoff. “I’m anything but snarky.”

“Sure, baby,” Sunghoon shakes his head a little before closing the gap between them, stealing the last bit of air right from your lungs, breathing it into his own. 

You melt into it, pressing forward so your chests are flush together. You shudder at the contact, your nipples rubbing against Sunghoon’s silky shirt. Sunghoon licks across the seam of your lips, biting down ever so lightly in the way he knows you like. You open your mouth to give him access, Sunghoon immediately licking across your teeth and the roof of your mouth, before sucking at your tongue.

Sunghoon’s hand roam from your waist to your bare chest to rest on your hips, rubbing shapes against the skin there. You sigh into Sunghoon’s mouth, reveling in the feeling of having Sunghoon’s hands all over you again. Sunghoon pulls back suddenly, the sounds of their lips disconnecting bouncing off the walls of the closet.

“Why—” you whine, pressing against Sunghoon harder. “Why?”

Sunghoon lets out a chuckle, squeezing your waist. “Nothing, just missed hearing you talk. Missed your voice.”

“I’ll be more vocal once you’re inside of me,” you purr, pressing your lips to what you hope is Sunghoon’s jaw, but is probably his cheek. You reach down between you to grope at Sunghoon’s bulge, preening once you feel that Sunghoon is as affected by this as you are. “Miss you inside of me more.”

You feels Sunghoon’s cock twitch at that, and arousal pools at your belly, shocks sending to the tips of your toes. Sunghoon lets out a breath, pressing a kiss to your cheek before moving down to press wet kisses to your neck. Sunghoon knows not to leave marks, so you tilt your head to bare your neck to him, humming in content as Sunghoon licks at your skin and collarbones. 

You squirm in Sunghoon’s hold once Sunghoon’s mouth reaches your chest, lips closing around a nipple and laving his tongue over it, sucking lightly. You let out a sigh, pressing your chest against Sunghoon’s mouth and pushing his head down with your hands. You tremble when Sunghoon sucks harder, tongue circling around the bud. 

“Ah, Sunghoon,” you breath out, mind already feeling fuzzy. The fact that you can’t see Sunghoon or see where his hands are going to go next is so hot to you. 

Sunghoon pulls back with a pop. “You’re so pretty.”

You whine, pushing Sunghoon’s head back down. “More—more.”

“More?” Sunghoon hums, amused, before going back down to suck at your other nipple, fingertips brushing the abused one. He rubs a finger over it, pressing down and making a content sound when you flinch.

Sunghoon sucks one last time before pressing kisses down to your stomach, and you hear Sunghoon’s pants crinkle as Sunghoon gets down on his knees. Your hands slip into Sunghoon’s hair instead, and you run your fingers through the strands until you can find a stable grip. You’re ruining Sunghoon’s hair, you know, but hopefully by the time they leave, everyone will have cleared out. Mostly.

You make a sound when you feel Sunghoon nose at your cunt, tongue laving over it and making you feel weak in the knees. Sunghoon runs his hands up your thighs, the touch leaving goosebumps in it’s wake.

You whine when you feel Sunghoon blowing his breath against you, hissing at the air. Sunghoon hums, the sound akin to a fucking cat, then repeats what he said earlier: “So pretty, baby.”

You can only reply with a shaky moan, nodding like Sunghoon can see you. You let out another moan, louder this time, when Sunghoon licks lightly at your clit, licking up the wetness you know is dripping from you like a faucet. Your voice breaks a little when Sunghoon puts his lips around your clit, and sucks.

“Fuck, Sunghoon,” you gasp out at the sensation, letting out another curse when Sunghoon presses his tongue closer against the bud, sucking at the same time. God, if this feels good, you wonder what it’d feel like if— “Shit.”

Sunghoon does this thing with his tongue, pressing it right under the hood of your clit and grazing his teeth just right against your skin, and you almost come on the spot. Sunghoon lets out an approving groan, the sound sending vibrations to your core, and you moan again.

“So—so good, Hoon, you’re so good,” you sigh softly, and Sunghoon lets out another sound. “Could come like this, just from this.”

Sunghoon pulls away then, and you almost whine at the loss of his mouth. “Just from this? I barely even did anything.”

“Shut up,” you grits out, jaw clenching, “you know what you do to me.”

“Do I?” Is Sunghoon’s reply, and then he’s taking you back into his mouth again, this time trailing a finger to your hole. Sunghoon taps your thigh a few times as he moves his head, then simultaneously presses two fingers into you at the same time he sucks your clit, and fuck, Sunghoon is so hot. 

You resist the urge to grind against him, not wanting to hurt Sunghoon, but Sunghoon is letting out a huff through his nose and pulling off again.

“Fuck my mouth,” Sunghoon says, voice hoarse already, and then he’s diving back down. 

“I don’t—don’t want to come too soon, I’m already so close,” you whimper when Sunghoon crooks his fingers just right, tongue still drawing shapes against your clit while doing so. 

Sunghoon doesn’t show any time of stopping soon, and you give into his temptations and grind against Sunghoon’s mouth, eyes rolling back and mouth dropping open in a silent moan at the feeling of Sunghoon’s mouth, wet and hot, against you. You can’t help the way you grind your hips forward, just testing. Sunghoon doesn’t make a single sound, no choking, nothing, and you lose it. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you grind your hips down against Sunghoon’s face faster, chasing your high as you use Sunghoon’s mouth and nose as you please. “You’re so—shit—hot.”

Sunghoon makes an approving noise, moaning as you grind on his face. You let out a shaky moan, feeling the familiar clenching inside of you and around his fingers, and everything is just so much that your hips stutter and lose rhythm, the rope in your stomach snapping as you come. Your thighs shake at the intensity of your orgasm, the remnants of your come now getting lapped up by Sunghoon’s tongue. 

Sunghoon swallows it all, and when he pulls away, he sucks at your clit one last time, then stands to press his lips to yours. You can taste yourself on Sunghoon’s tongue, the last remnants of your come that didn’t get swallowed down being fed back into your mouth as Sunghoon pushes his tongue past your lips. 

You flinch in overstimulation when Sunghoon uses his fingers to rub at your swollen clit once again. 

“You’re so wet, fuck.” Sunghoon’s voice sounds strained. 

You nod, panting against Sunghoon’s lips. “Please, I’m ready.”

“God,” Sunghoon groans into your mouth, fingers dipping past the entrance of your hole and into you with little resistance. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Sunghoon slides another finger in between the two, scissoring his fingers and groaning when your hole stretches with ease. Your body shakes in overstimulation, having already come once, but you want to make Sunghoon feel good, to let Sunghoon use your body like he lets you use his. 

“C’mon, Hoon,” You throw your head back when Sunghoon presses his fingers further. “Fuck—ah—fuck me already.”

Sunghoon adds a fourth finger beside his others and hums. “Wanna take my time, especially when you’re such a good girl for me.”

“Sunghoon,” you whine, pushing down against Sunghoon’s fingers and clenching down on them when they graze a certain spot inside of you. “Fingered myself while thinking of you fucking me like this, I can’t wait anymore.”

Sunghoon lets out a small laugh, but it seems to do the trick because he’s pulling his fingers out of your hole in a quickness, flipping you around to press you against the wall. You vibrate with anticipation when you hears Sunghoon’s zipper being pulled down, then the telltale sound of his pants dropping to his ankles. Your mouth parts in a silent gasp when you feels Sunghoon’s cock, hard and wet, slide between your cheeks. Sunghoon is leaving a trail of wetness against your skin, and your mouth waters just picturing it; Sunghoon’s cock, thick and curved, leaking so prettily for you. God, you wonder if there’s a wet patch at the front of Sunghoon’s pants, and you want so badly to check, to lick the remnants of the precome there, to make Sunghoon’s pants and underwear damp and soaked with your saliva mixed and Sunghoon’s wetness. 

You keen when the head of Sunghoon’s cock grazes your hole, the tip slipping inside before it slips out again. You whine, “Sunghoon, no teasing, I want you too much.”

“Sorry,” Sunghoon says, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Forgot how needy you are.”

You pout even though Sunghoon can’t see it, but it’s quickly replaced with a moan as Sunghoon pushes into you, all the way to the hilt. You don't have time to think or breathe as Sunghoon is pulling out again, just until his tip barely breaches you, and slams in again.

Your head lolls forward, cheek squished against the cold surface of the wall as Sunghoon fucks his cock into you, balls slapping against your cheeks and the sound echoing off of every corner of the room. You can only let out little sounds as Sunghoon uses you as he pleases.

“God, you feel so good,” Sunghoon breathes against your neck, shuffling forward so he can press his forehead against your shoulder. “So wet and tight.” You clench down at that, and Sunghoon chuckles. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

You can only whine, whimpering when you feel a little saliva drip out from the corner of your lips. Sunoo and Riki are going to kill him because you’re ruining your makeup, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when Sunghoon is fucking you like this. 

Sunghoon laughs sardonically at your silence. “So fucked out you can’t even speak, hm, baby?”

You whine again, gasping when Sunghoon takes your face into a hand, pressing your cheeks together between his thumb and forefinger. Your face is smushed like this, and you lets out a surprised moan when Sunghoon pulls your head back, forcing you to lean against his chest with his fingers still on your face.

“Wish I could see how you looked right now,” Sunghoon groans out, hips flush against yours. He grinds into you slowly, and you can feel Sunghoon’s cock twitching inside of you as he speaks. “Bet you look even prettier like this, not even being able to think with a cock inside of you.”

“Sunghoon,” you whine out, clenching around Sunghoon sporadically. 

“Oh, so you can speak,” Sunghoon pauses, “guess I’m not doing good enough, then.” And then Sunghoon is lowering you to the floor, moving to brace your hands on the wall then gripping your hips to bend you over, the sounds of your heels clicking against the floor. “Don’t fall, baby.”

You let out choruses of moans that trail off into higher pitched noises as Sunghoon fucks you faster, harder this time. The sounds of your skin slapping against each other are so loud, it’s all you can focus on, and you fear that whoever walks by the closet will know what the both of you are doing, will hear you getting fucked like this, in a closet. The thought of it has you tightening up again, and before you know it, you’re coming a second time. 

Sunghoon lets out a surprised moan, groaning at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him. 

“Fuck, you—you’re so,” Sunghoon doesn’t finish his sentence, pressing forward another time to be as deep as he can as he comes. You tremble at the feeling of Sunghoon filling you up, and it only makes you come harder, body shaking as you falls forward, forehead resting against the wall.

Sunghoon presses kisses onto your shoulder and back as he helps you upright, still grinding his cock into you. You whine, clenching weakly around Sunghoon’s cock. Your breaths even out after a few minutes, and you yelp when Sunghoon experimentally thrusts his hips once, twice forward.

“No more, Hoon, I can’t—” you say, breathless again.

Sunghoon kisses your shoulder again, nuzzling his nose against your skin. “Come back to my hotel.”

“Was waiting for you to ask,” you reply, and you feels Sunghoon’s laugh against your skin. 

“Or, maybe I’ll go back to yours,” Sunghoon presses his cheek against your shoulder.

“That’s a first,” you joke, and Sunghoon grinds forward. “Sunghoon!”

“So, yes?” Sunghoon rubs soothing patterns onto your sides.

“When have I ever said no to you?” You say, fondly.

“Never.” Sunghoon concludes.

“Exactly,” you roll your eyes. “Clean me up.”

“I don’t think there’s anything in here…” Sunghoon trails off.

“Sunghoon!”

Your dress is going to be horribly ruined. You don’t know how you’re going to explain the mess to Sunoo and Riki, but when Sunghoon licks the come from your hole and thighs, and cleans your cunt with his tongue, you find that you don't care as much as you should.

XO sunoo and riki's brand PARADOXXX heeseung, jake, and jay's brand

a/n: hope u enjoyed pt.2, thank u for taking the time to read this if u have gotten this far! pls like and reblog or leave any comments or asks for me hehe ♡ my taglist is currently open, pls lmk if you would like to be added to it :3 and pls let me know if u found any mistakes.. did not want to proofread this

masterlist

[cowboyschumi]

HEARTLESS

Summary: Lando Norris has entered his heartless era with no intention of leaving it anytime soon. Now he’s hunting for prey on Raya, and that’s where he stumbles upon you.

Author’s note: Y'all really thirst over Mister Norris, my god. English is not my first language. Enjoy the reading lovelies, interactions are much appreciated.

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, cheating mention, cursing ig. Tried to be inclusive, reader's gender is not specified.

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COWBOYSCHUMI | 2025 All rights reserved. Do not copy, translate, or upload on other platforms.

————————————————————————

Luisa was the best Lando ever had, everyone knew it including him, but he wouldn’t admit it out loud. The only ones cheering over their breakup were jealous, parasocial thirteen-year-olds.

But that was long ago. He moved on pretty quickly, not exactly beating the cheating allegations. Russian model this, Brazilian actress that… and it was all true. There was no denying. He was really enjoying his singleness, having a blast every heated Sunday. But beyond that? Nothing. He got scared easily by commitment or brushed off any trace of a slight chance of dating someone seriously.

He didn’t know why, this tendency to avoid and escape. Deep down, he knew he was hurt. Not hurt by someone else, though. He did it all by himself, ruining the only real thing he ever had. Fans who cared pointed it out: 'His spark is missing,' 'We miss silly old Lando!'

And after claiming he didn’t want to mature because he was happy where he was, he finally matured. Or at least, he pretended to, showing himself as nonchalant and bold. Expressiveness and cameras were just a performance, because in his daily life, he still acted like a teenage boy, eager to get laid

Anyone with an average experience on dating apps knew they were the worst—a way to boost egos based on looks, only to end up rejected and discarded. Raya seemed different, more polite, you guessed. You weren’t the dating type, but curiosity got the best of you. You wanted to know what the hype was about.

Lando, on the other hand, spent most of his day on that app. Every girl swiped right on him, but he rarely matched with someone he actually liked. He wasn’t too strict about looks, he was more of a 'the bigger, the better' type of guy.

Raya wasn’t Tinder. Access was limited, and confidentiality was a must. That’s why you were really surprised when you got in after an exhausting approval process. Your friends freaked out, screamed, and practically climbed the walls of your apartment—the excitement was real. Maybe even a little more than yours.

"Hand me the phone." I don’t even know all these people you’re swiping left and right on." Your patience was limited, and your friends knew exactly how to test it. They kept using your Raya like it was theirs while you minded your own business, eating ice cream. You had no intention of swiping, and the girls knew it, that’s why they took matters into their own hands.

"Oh. My. God. Shut up."

"That’s Lando Norris!" One of them immediately snatched the phone from your friend’s hands.

"Who’s Lando Norris?"

They looked at you like you had just committed a crime, or like they’d seen a ghost behind you. You weren’t sure if your question was out of place or if it was the fact that you had just spoken with a spoonful of ice cream in your mouth

"You’re kidding, right?" Finally, one of them spoke after a long, awkward silence.

FOMO—a word used by chronically online people to describe the fear of missing out, not knowing what’s going on, feeling excluded. That was exactly how you felt for not knowing who Lando Norris was.

"Formula One driver?" Now the phone was in your hands. You were reading his description with the screen practically glued to your face, like a mom who can’t see a thing unless it’s that close.

"That guy beat Verstappen a few times, right?" That was the only thing you could come up with, just from scrolling through Twitter and catching bits of the news. You didn’t know a single thing about the sport.

And sometimes, famous people liked that: their love interests not knowing anything about them, their jobs, the rumors, or the creepy facts.

Your Raya profile didn’t have anything special, aside from your picture-perfect photos. Celebrities didn’t actually care about you deep down—only if you fit their beauty standards. Being active and checking profiles wasn’t on your to-do list. It was just pure curiosity.

But somehow, you two matched. May the universe know under what circumstances and why.

————————————————————————

"When will I have the chance to meet you?"

His text was blunt, like you already knew each other. Maybe even a little desperate.

"What happened to 'Hello, how are you, my name is…'?"

You answered sarcastically, but truthfully. Not introducing yourselves was kind of rude. But you got the point, Lando didn’t care about who you were or what you had to say. The quicker you ended up in his bed, the better.

He laughed at your text, you had the kind of sense of humor he’d fall for. He wouldn’t lie, he enjoyed how obsessed girls were with him and how quickly the dirty talk escalated with just one message. But to his surprise, you weren’t that easy to win over.

"Haha, sorry. Is dinner fine with you?"

Wow, he was really a bad texter. The driest you’d ever seen, dare you say. Was it a guy thing or just a wannabe mysterious famous person thing? You hoped the conversation would be better in person because, damn, it’d be a shame if his pretty face had nothing to say.

"Send me the addy. I don’t need an F1 driver picking me up, I’d rather pass."

Your fear of speed was a thing.

————————————————————————

Lando was attractive. You weren’t exactly interested, but nervousness ran through your veins. Dates always did this over you—stuttering, sweaty palms, and way too much overthinking. You even considered canceling, but your friends wouldn’t let you.

You were a fashion design student, meaning you had some knowledge of trends and what suited your silhouette. Lately, silky long attires were your go-to for night fits; simple, elegant. You dressed for yourself, for comfort, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the attention and the flattering compliments on your fashion sense.

Monaco was small. Getting anywhere was a short drive, so the Uber didn’t take long. But as you stepped out of the car, your stomach twisted. The restaurant in front of you was huge, glowing with warm lights, yet no people coming in or out. The classic internet trap flashed through your mind—what if there was no Lando Norris waiting for you at all?

“Y/N?”

His voice sounded unsure. He was glued to his phone, shamelessly checking if you actually looked like the pictures he’d been thirsting over on that awful app.

You turned around slowly, mentally cursing yourself, and then your friends. And there he was.

He really screamed Formula One driver. The expensive car gave him away immediately. You had boots on, and he was wearing sneakers, making him not nearly as tall as you expected. You bit your cheek, trying not to laugh at the fact that you were practically the same height.

How were you supposed to act on a date with someone worldwide famous?

Lando leaned in to kiss your cheek, but you instinctively extended your hand for a handshake instead. The night hadn’t even started, and you already wanted the earth to swallow you.

“Shall we?”

He offered his arm, effortlessly charming. Gentleman, innit?

You hesitated before looping your arm through his, still not saying a word. But as you stepped into the restaurant, your stomach dropped.

The place was empty. No other customers. Just you and him.

Your face went pale because there was only one explanation.

He did not…

“Mister Norris!”

A well-dressed waiter greeted him with familiarity. They knew each other. With a simple hand gesture, he led you both to your table. The level of formality made you feel like royalty.

Dim lighting, soft music. A candle flickered in the center of the round table, it had the scent of chocolate, if your nostrils weren’t failing you. The ambiance was undeniably beautiful.

He really outdid himself.

You sat down, eyes narrowing at him. "You did not rent out this whole place just for us."

"Yeah, I did."

Lando chuckled, his smile boyish—like a kid caught red-handed. You playfully shoved his shoulder, you hated surprises and gifts in any format.

Your face burned red, so you instinctively hid behind the menu. Of course, he noticed. He found it adorable.

His foot lightly tapped yours under the table, trying to get your attention. "Are we playing hide and seek now?"

You sighed, setting the menu down just so he could see you roll your eyes. "What are you ordering?" you asked in a hushed tone, like it was some kind of secret, despite the fact that no one else was around.

Your elbows rested on the table as you leaned slightly toward him. He did the same. The tiny candle was the only thing between you.

There was no need for flirtation or innuendos—the tension was already there.

For you two, banter was enough.

————————————————————————

"So, fashion designer, huh?" He asked, cutting his food, trying to throw the conversation toward you.

"So, Formula One driver, huh?" You mocked him, mimicking his tone—because, seriously, that was the most basic question ever. Your background was more than obvious; it was explicitly written on Raya. But you got it—he was just as nervous as you were.

One thing Lando was sure of: you weren’t like his other dates. My god, you were hard to get. An hour in, and there had been no physical contact at all—just chatter, chatter. Not that he was complaining. You were an interesting and undecipherable human being.

"How many girls have you brought here?"

You loved making people uncomfortable with your questions, especially when you already knew the answer—you just wanted to see their reaction. Lando practically choked on his food at your out-of-the-blue assumption.

"W-what?"

It was hilarious how fast he grabbed his water, like he couldn’t believe how unfiltered you were. You repeated the question, and he had no choice but to answer.

"I don’t know… two or three?"

At least he was honest. Or tried to be.

————————————————————————

Dinner happened, to your surprise, quickly—because time moved fast when you were really enjoying yourself, losing track of it completely. Luckily, the Formula One driver caught up with your jokes, knowing exactly how to turn them back on you. Like an Uno reverse card. For you, there was nothing more intimate than teasing each other mutually and just the right amount. Some people couldn’t take a joke, and that was such a turn-off. But Lando simply got you.

Now, you were exiting the glamorous restaurant, shoulders covered by his huge coat. Your laughter was loud, and in just two hours, you had already built inside jokes between the two of you.

"Looking forward to seeing your replacement next Sunday if you catch a cold."

"And I'm looking forward to seeing your pretty face again."

He ended all the joking with a cheeky, flirtatious remark—he knew exactly how to make a girl’s legs weak using nothing but his natural charisma.

"You never shut up, do you?"

And then you did the unthinkable.

Without thinking twice, you pulled him in, your lips merging into one. Your heart was pounding out of your chest, finally releasing all the tension and need that had been weighing on you.

————————————————————————

The car you once eyed as luxurious was now the place where you were making out frenetically. The kissing was obscene, neither of you knew where all that passion came from, but it was addictive.

His firm hands gripped the fabric of your branded clothing, holding your hips in place, not wanting you to make any movement against his lap. It’d be the death of him—he was already suffering a nightmare between his legs.

Your fingers instantly got lost in his curls, tangling and pulling them mid-kiss. Lando’s mouth was practically fighting against yours, turning it into the sloppiest mess. Heaven had never felt this chaotic. You took your time exploring every corner of his mouth with your tongue, while his hands traveled deliberately across your body, wishing there was no fabric separating you two. His fingertips traced you as if you were as fragile as a sculpture, slow and delicate. You melted under his touch, squirming on top of him at the barest touch. It was inoffensive, yet he knew exactly how to caress all the right places.

A shiver ran down your spine as your body suddenly felt colder than seconds ago—a thin breeze brushed against your right thigh. He was sliding up your outfit, eager to go further.

"Easy, driver." A whisper escaped your lips, breathy from all the intense air-exchanging. Your lips brushed against each other, expectant but unmoving. "I know you like adrenaline and fast things, but not tonight."

Fucking on the first date wasn’t your thing, you had at least some dignity. This wasn’t just a hook-up; a few butterflies were already flying around in your stomach, and you despised it.

With half-lidded eyes, he looked up at you, locking gazes. His puppy-blue eyes were now dark with lust. His swollen, glossy lips formed a slight pout. If you kept staring at him—at his pathetic, needy, almost convincing face—you’d be stripping down quicker than lightning.

Trying to put an end to his little show, you placed a hand over his face and shoved him away, cutting off all dangerous eye contact.

"Not tonight gives me a free pass for a second date, according to my understanding." He contradicted you, attempting to sound smart with a cocky grin spread across his face.

"You really are something else, Lando Norris." You did your thing to keep him quiet, preventing any cringey pick-up line from escaping his lips, and restarted the make-out session.

He was relieved that you’d shut him up quickly, because the longer it went on, the more he felt like verbalizing the flying feelings in his stomach.

[screeching-bunny]

Saw that requests were open, and maybe can you do this one? ⁄(⁄ ⁄ ⁄ω⁄ ⁄ ⁄)⁄

Request- A master manipulator yandere husband that’s been with his wifey (us) since childhood. That’s right, we childhood sweethearts <3 He lovingly molded us into a dependent stepford wifey, cause what’d we do without him? He’s always been there to protect, provide, and care for us since we were young, why stop now into adulthood?

Love to have this as HC format with some dash of dialogue if possible to show some of his personality!

Also I loved your latest CEO yandere, what’s his name? He’s a favorite of mine now. Love the ones that spoil you rotten and can’t live without you!

Yandere! Husband Hcs

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: Yandere! Ceo currently doesn’t have a name rn but don’t worry he will soon!!! Thank you so much enjoying him!!!

🌟 Yandere! Husband has been friends with you since you were children. From the moment you got out of the car and started to get your things out of the moving van, he was absolutely hooked. He practically rushed his little legs over and started to enthusiastically introduce himself to you and your family. He was honestly so thrilled to learn that you were the same age as him and going to be attending the same elementary school as him. When you first started attending school Yandere! Husband made sure to hold your hand no matter where you went. Whenever anyone asked he would say that he was only doing this to make you more comfortable (he’s doing this for his own enjoyment). This is a habit that stays even in your adult life. No matter where the two of you are, he is always holding your hand lovingly.

🌟 Yandere! Husband in elementary school used to get so upset whenever someone would try to approach you to play with them. Whenever someone did this he would always try to do petty little things to them such as trip them, tattle tale on every little thing they did, and sometimes get even a little physical. At the time he wasn’t exactly sure why he was feeling these awful emotions but what he was one hundred percent sure on was that he didn’t want anyone to take your attention off of him.

Random elementary student: “You can’t keep doing this! You’re acting like they’re yours! They can play with whoever they want, so stop acting like you own them!”

Yandere! Husband: “...” Coming to the realization that he loves hearing that. The idea of you being solely his causes his heart to beat even faster. “Mine, I like the sound of that.”

🌟 Yandere! Husband made sure to protect you from any bullies that ever tried to harm you. He wanted to be seen as a savior in your eyes and would brutally beat up anyone who tried to harm you. If he wasn’t physically strong enough to beat them then he would do everything in his power to frame them for something and get them expelled from school. He definitely has some sort of savior complex when it comes to you. Yandere! Husband made it a mission to be your first kiss when the two of you were going to graduate elementary and go into middle school. He wanted to be your first in everything and felt this was the first step into making you his. Your first kiss had been with him in his bedroom while you were over to play videogames.

Yandere! Husband: “Come on, this is the first step we gotta take in order to grow. Our first kiss has to be with someone special and you're the specialist person I know!”

Just like that, the two of you were leaning in and that was how Yandere! Husband successfully stole your first kiss.

🌟 Yandere! Husband was still stuck to your side even during puberty. It was during this time that he started getting attention from a lot of people due to his looks. He made sure to always ignore or reject them due to only having eyes for you. Yandere! Husband makes sure that your classes are all with him. Believe it or not but Yandere! Husband is extremely smart and a model student. He will make sure to point out how you are lacking academically therefore you need someone to tutor you (even if you don’t) to both teachers and the principal in order to be in the same classes as you. Yandere! Husband will make small and very subtle passive aggressive remarks about how you aren't that academically intelligent and that you need him by your side. At some point you start to believe this and believe that you need him to tutor you everyday in order to survive school.

Yandere! Husband: “It’s okay if you’re not good at anything. As long as you have me by your side, I’ll take care of you no matter what. Even if we’re old and wrinkly.”

🌟 Yandere! Husband has successfully isolated you from making friends by the time you two are in high school. You basically have no friends but him. This was mainly due to the fact that he would always try to outdo the person you were trying to befriend in order to make them seem boring. Having romantic feelings for anyone other than him was off limits. If you ever did have a crush on someone then Yandere! Husband would absolutely destroy them. He would make sure to spread the nastiest rumor about them and cause them so much shame that they would have to move away from your town in order to avoid further embarrassment. It’s probably around highschool that Yandere! Husband officially asks you out to be his lover. He makes sure to go all out while asking you out in order to make you feel special.

🌟 Yandere! Husband is proposing to you the moment the two of you graduate highschool. Don’t worry about funds, he’s a Nepo baby and will inherit his dad’s company. He definitely wants you to be his housespouse when he’s ready to go to college and work a job. He wants you to depend on him and hates the idea of you being independent without him. In order to make sure this never happens, he manipulates you into thinking that you can’t do anything without him and around. So why don't you sit still and look pretty for him when he gets home.

🌟 Yandere! Husband picks out everything when it’s time to get married. He’s a complete groomzilla and wants everything to be absolutely perfect. When he sees you in your wedding attire for the first time he definitely tears up a bit. You’re just so beautiful. Domestic life with Yandere! Husband is peaceful and calming. Yandere! Husband imagines you all the time while he is at work. When he drives home from work he likes to imagine how you would be waiting for him. Would you be waiting at the door for him or would you be asleep sprawled on the couch. He makes sure to always come home as fast as he can in order to wrap his arms around you. The sight coming home to you and a home cooked meal absolutely melts his heart. This is perfection to him and he’ll make sure to do everything in his power to protect it.

[delulujuls]

testcam.mp4 | ln4, op81

hi, im coming back with another f1 shot! as i said, i will still write for my fast bois, so here i am, making my words and serving another landoscar. it is, oh my, intense. so please, if you are a minor, do not interact!

summary: oscar decided to follow in lando's footsteps and also set up a video account on instagram. however, as we all know, practice makes perfect and luckily he had willing models nearby

warnings: smut! p in v, oral (male and female receiving), two boys kissing (im sorry), no protection (dont be like them, use that damn rubber)

pairing: fem!mclaren driver reader x oscar piastri x lando norris

"Y/N, look at me," the girl sighed and lifted her gaze from her phone, looking towards Oscar, who was sitting on the opposite side of the room. "The camera definitely caught that sigh, I'm sure."

"Is this another idea from the PR people?"

"No, actually, it's not," Oscar replied, still squinting through the camera, trying to manually focus it on his friend's face. "To be honest, it was Lando's idea."

"Lando's idea?" she furrowed her brow. "Since when you thought that Lando's ideas are worth following?"

"Since he started that Instagram account, where he posts photos and short videos," Oscar said, moving the camera away from his face and clicking a setting button. "People really liked it, so I thought I might give it a try too."

Y/N snorted and smiled, shaking her head. "Does he know about it?"

Oscar was about to answer when Lando walked into the room, as if he had been summoned.

"Know about what?" he asked, having caught the tail end of their conversation before entering.

"About how," "Your ego might not handle this," Y/N interrupted Piastri, who still held the camera, looking up at Lando. "About how I thought I might start doing some amateur photography and filming too."

Lando smiled. "Like 'lando.jpg' and 'lando.mov'?"

The Australian just nodded. "Except I don't know how I'll do yet, I just got the camera today."

Norris sat down next to him and immediately engaged in the conversation. Knowing she wouldn't get a chance to talk to them for the next hour, Y/N decided to go for lunch early, leaving the boys on their own.

"But I see you've already recorded something," Lando commented, quickly browsing the camera and looking at the saved files. "Can I?"

Oscar nodded. "It's just Y/N, the first footage right after unboxing."

Norris smiled, watching their friend's long eyelashes brush her cheeks before she looked up from her phone when called by Oscar. Piastri also glanced at the small screen, where the girl's face appeared for a few seconds.

"She's pretty," Lando stated, an idea forming in his mind. "You could practice using the camera on her."

Oscar furrowed his brow and looked at his friend's face. "I'm not sure what you mean."

The Brit smiled and bit his lip, giving him a meaningful look. It took Oscar a moment to connect the dots.

"Are you crazy? That's absurd!"

"If you don't want to, I can ask her," Lando replied, shrugging and handing the camera back to him. "I could use some more practice too."

When Y/N finished her lunch, she had media duties to attend to, joined shortly by Lando and Oscar. As dusk fell and all the necessary materials were recorded, the trio left McLaren's headquarters. Y/N and Lando were supposed to stay at a hotel, but Oscar invited them to stay at his place during their time in Woking.

"Shall we order something to eat?" Lando asked as Oscar drove into the underground parking after an hour-long drive.

"I'm all for it, I'm starving," the Aussie admitted, and Y/N, sitting in the front, nodded too. "I call dibs on the bathroom first, and you guys can order something in the meantime. I can eat anything."

She added, getting out of the car. When they were inside Oscar's apartment and Y/N had disappeared into the bathroom, Lando gave his friend a knowing look.

"What?" Piastri furrowed his brow, placing his backpack on the counter and unpacking it.

"You know what," Lando replied, smiling. The Aussie shook his head.

"You can ask her, but I doubt she'll agree," he said quietly, emptying his backpack. "We barely, you know, damn-" Piastri started to stammer, losing his train of thought. Thinking about Lando's suggestion made him blush. The older boy laughed, wrapping an arm around him and kissing his cheek. Oscar was adorable when he got embarrassed.

Piastri sighed and looked up at his friend. His amused gaze was captivating, his smile hidden by biting his lip.

"This isn't funny, Lan," Oscar muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

"It is, actually," Norris murmured, pulling him close and kissing him, before moving to sit on the couch. Soon, all three were on the couch, eating fried noodles with chicken and vegetables. They wore loose shirts, their hair still wet from their showers, and watched a lighthearted series they had chosen a few days ago.

When they finished eating and the episode ended, Lando stretched and glanced at Oscar.

"So, Osc, did you manage to record anything today?"

Y/N also looked at her friend, who just shook his head.

"Just a few seconds of Y/N, nothing more."

"I thought you deleted that," the girl said, standing to get a drink from the kitchen. She picked up the camera from the counter and, sitting back on the couch, opened it and turned it on. Lando leaned in, resting his chin on her shoulder, looking at the small screen, where a familiar figure soon appeared.

"You look nice," Lando said softly, smiling. "The camera likes you."

The girl smiled, hearing her own sigh in response to Oscar's request to look his way.

"It did catch it," she glanced at her friend, who was sitting nearby, finishing his food.

When the short recording ended, she absentmindedly pressed the red record button and, glancing at the display, pointed the lens at Oscar.

"The worst possible moment," he said with his mouth full, looking at his friends with mock exasperation.

"What a handsome guy, just look at him," Lando smiled as she focused on zooming in on the noodle box in his hands.

"How do you rate our dinner?" Y/N asked, smiling.

Oscar picked the remaining noodles from the box and shoved them into his mouth, nodding appreciatively.

"Much better than what you can get at the company," he replied, placing the empty box on the table and grabbing an open can of Sprite.

"And what about dessert?" she asked, looking up from the camera and into his eyes. Oscar nearly choked, and Lando, if he'd had something to drink, would likely have spat it out.

"Dessert?" The boys asked almost simultaneously, glancing at each other, then at their friend.

"Mhm," Y/N replied and looked at Lando, signaling with her head for him to sit next to Oscar. He obediently moved and sat beside him, placing his hand on the back of the couch. "Here they are, my lovely boys."

"Yes, that's us," Lando said, glancing at Oscar. "In the flesh," Piastri added, looking back at him. The friends exchanged looks. It went much smoother than they expected.

"A little show? The camera doesn't like boredom," Y/N encouraged, resting her legs on the table and moving the zoom out a bit.

"If you're okay with it, of course," she added, looking up from the camera and at them. Lando gave Oscar a questioning look, and he just shrugged. "I don't mind."

Norris smiled, weaving the hand that lay just behind his head into his hair and kissing him. Oscar immediately returned the kiss and touched his cheek. Y/N smiled, zooming in on their faces. She bit her lip, feeling the heat rise within her.

"Actually, it's my camera," Oscar said after a few minutes, as Lando's kisses trailed down his neck. "And I think I should practice with it too."

“Of course, it’s even recommended,” the girl smiled and stood up, handing him the camera. Lando also got up from the couch and easily lifted his friend, carrying her over his shoulder to the bedroom.

“You’re so cheeky!” the girl shouted, hitting him on the butt. “I hope you’re recording this violence,” Y/N made sure, lifting her head and glancing at Oscar walking behind them. “I’ve got it all, and in HD too.”

In the bedroom, Lando laid the girl on the bed, and she immediately pulled him towards her. He laughed, placing his hands on either side of her head and easily finding her lips. Piastri stood to the side, feeling hotter by the second. Just like the little red dot on the screen indicated the camera was working, his arousal was evident in his too-tight boxers. He couldn’t lie; he liked what he was seeing. When Lando moved aside to remove the girl’s shirt and his lips immediately attacked her breasts, she looked at Oscar and extended her hand towards him.

“Join the party, baby,” Piastri swallowed hard and obediently approached the edge of the bed. His friend’s hand moved along his thigh until it found the bulge in his pants. Y/N smiled and squeezed it, massaging for a moment. When Lando disappeared between her thighs, she propped herself on her elbow and easily slid Oscar’s sweatpants and boxers off. She looked straight into the camera lens and licked his entire length, sending shivers through his spine.

Piastri could barely stand when she took him into her mouth. He watched on the small camera screen as her lips moved up and down on him, leaving an increasingly wet trail. She moaned softly, glancing involuntarily towards Lando. When Oscar pointed the camera at him, the Brit smiled and winked. His tongue was still working between the girl’s thighs, and the finger he had added earlier was rhythmically moving inside her, eliciting soft, pleasant moans.

“Do you like what you see?” she asked, looking dreamily over the lens at her friend’s face. Oscar nodded and licked his lips. The whole situation was incredibly arousing for him. Not just for him; Y/N didn’t need much to come on Lando’s tongue shortly after.

“Give it to me, now it’s my turn,” Norris commanded, standing up and getting off the bed. “Lie down.”

Without stopping the recording, Oscar obediently handed him the camera. The girl smiled and grabbed the Aussies’s hand, pulling him towards her. Piastri fell onto the pillows and couldn’t even speak before his friend climbed onto his lap and kissed him tenderly. Oscar sighed into her mouth, squeezing her thighs with his hands.

Lando smiled at the sight before him, holding the camera in one hand and skillfully freeing himself from his sweatpants with the other. He spat on his hand and spread the saliva over his cock, starting to stroke it. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t lie about not liking the whole situation.

The three friends were friends only in a technical sense. To the people they worked with daily, to the fans, and really to everyone around them, they were just three drivers who ended up at McLaren and became the faces of the brand, becoming friends in the process. That was all true, but they weren’t just friends. Friends don’t know how you taste. Right?

“That’s right, baby,” Lando smiled, hearing the girl choke as she tried to take all of Oscar's lenght into her mouth. “And again, take him all.”

Y/N sniffed, trying to catch her breath. Oscar raised his hand to gently brush her hair from her face, but Lando tightened his grip on it and forced the girl to take his cock back into her mouth. Oscar moaned deeply, his eyes rolling back involuntarily. He bit his lip, trying to hold back another moan, and looked up at his friends. He felt embarrassed when he noticed the camera in Lando’s hand, having momentarily forgotten about it.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” the older boy assured, one hand still guiding the girl’s head and the other directing the camera at his friend’s face. “Fuck, you look so good right now.”

“Mm-hmm,” the girl nodded, smiling and looking up at him. “Pretty boy Piastri.”

“It’s a shame to cover such a face,” Lando admitted, slapping girl's ass cheek. “Come on, sit on his face.”

Oscar blushed at his boldness, causing the girl to giggle softly. Y/N pulled herself up and kissed his cheeks, finally kissing him deeply on the lips.

“Tell me if something’s wrong-” her sentence was interrupted by a sudden moan that escaped her lips. As soon as her pussy was above Oscar’s head, he grabbed her thighs and pulled her to him, immediately sucking on her clit. “Oh my God,”

The girl leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Oscar’s hair fell messily over his forehead, his arms tightly embracing his friend’s thighs, his tongue tracing rhythmic figure-eights, and his brown, misty eyes looking up at her curves.

“He’s in love,” Lando smiled, climbing onto the bed and standing behind the girl, filming Oscar’s face from her point of view. “How does she taste, Osc?”

“Fucking delicious,” he murmured, running his tongue along her entire pussy, causing her to moan. When the girl threw her head back at the sudden sensation of pleasure, she looked straight into the camera. Lando stood next to his friend and smiled at the sight of her blissful face.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he bit his lip, touching her cheek and gently brushing it with his thumb. Y/N nodded and, seeing his painfully erect cock, immediately took it into her mouth.

Lando cursed softly under his breath, tucking her hair behind her shoulders.

“That’s right, just like that, baby,” he praised, glancing at her face this time from behind the camera. “Such a good girl.”

“You’re taking this way too seriously, Lan,” Oscar called out from between the girl’s thighs, causing her to giggle softly.

“Not funny,” the Brit murmured and moved away to the girl’s disappointment. He lay down next to Oscar and gestured for his friend to sit on him. Y/N carefully slid off Oscar’s face, which was now even redder than before. She took the designated spot and slowly slid his cock inside her, both of them reacting with a sigh. Lando held the camera in one hand, his other hand on the girl’s hip, guiding her movements. But his hand wasn’t the only one; a moment later, another pair of hands appeared on Y/N’s waist. Oscar knelt right behind his friend, gathering her hair over her shoulder and planting wet kisses on her neck. He held her hips, setting the right rhythm. The girl braced herself on Lando’s stomach with one hand, the other tangled in Oscar’s hair.

She almost completely forgot that Lando was holding a camera.

Norris also forgot about it and shortly after, when the camera started disturbing him, he placed it on the nightstand, focusing all his attention on the two most important people in his life.

“You are so good for him,” Oscar cooed right into her ear, one hand massaging her clit and the other guiding her movements. “Just look at him.”

“I can hear you, Osc,” the older boy noted, his eyes closed. His hands still guided the girl’s hips, his own movements setting the pace. He felt pleasure spreading through his entire body, warming it.

After a while, Lando, feeling he was close to orgasm, humbly withdrew from the girl’s hot, tight interior. Y/N lay on top of him, pressing him into the mattress and finding his lips again.

Oscar spat on his cock, spreading the saliva with his hand. He moved closer to the girl and grabbed her hip, slowly sliding into her.

Y/N moaned loudly into Lando’s mouth at the sudden sensation. He smiled, “Does he feel good, baby? Filling you up so well?”

“Mm-hmm, yes- oh my God,”

The girl clenched the sheets in her fists and involuntarily closed her eyes, throwing her head back. Oscar smiled and grabbed her hair, pulling her towards him and locking their lips in a kiss.

Their lips couldn’t keep up with the kisses, hungry hands grabbing at every piece of flesh. Moans mingled in a love cocktail that filled the stuffy bedroom walls.

After a while, the three of them collapsed exhausted on the pillows. Their breaths were quickened, cheeks flushed, and bodies covered in sweat. Oscar and Lando lay on the girl’s stomach, and she lazily ran her fingers through their tousled hair. She smiled at the sight before her and reached to turn off the night lamp when she saw that the camera on the nightstand was still pulsing with a red light.

“Of course, you didn’t turn it off,” the girl giggled, reaching for the camera.

“I completely forgot,” Lando admitted, looking at his friend. “Then we’ve got some really hot footage,” he chuckled.

“I’m not sure I want to watch it,” Oscar admitted, closing his eyes.

“The camera test was definitely successful,” she smiled, closing it and setting it aside.

[madamechrissy]

Just Friends!?

-Art in the banner from nek0zuu_ on X-

Pairings- Former Nerd! Gojo and popular F! reader

Summary - Satoru Gojo was the biggest nerd EVER in high school with you, next door neighbors, study buddies, you were the best friends in the world. Never having the courage to ask you -the 'popular girl' out- you never knew he felt for you. He ended up leaving town, moving to the big city of LA- getting famous with a modeling career, and lost touch with everyone from his old life. While you're working the family pub to help out your parents, years later, he finally comes back to visit, just to have you making his drink. Everything about him is different, aside from those pretty blue eyes and the sweet grin. You feel he's so accomplished now, and you're just a small town girl, but little do you know, you've never left his mind.

Warnings - Nerdjo turned famous and cocky, but he's still just a Nerdjo deep down hehe- this chap - explicit sexual content, lots of tension, oral (f recieving) grinding, spitting, teasing, fingering- lots of feelings, reader gets a little insecure, fluffier than the others but still some angst and mutual pining, lots of feelings - Tag list closed

Based HEAVILY on the 2005 Rom com Just Friends - part of my amazingg moot @indiewritesxoxo's Friday night flicks! 🌙

<<<Part Three - Masterlist - Playlist - Part Five>>>

Part Four

“Show me?” You whisper, breath just an inch from his lips, as he stares at you behind that thick prescription, tilting his head, studying you.

“What I wanted to do, what I ran from.” You give him the smallest nod and he slams his lips on yours then.

And that's when everything tilts on its axis for Satoru Gojo, where he realizes that the gaping hole he was missing was filled by you. The way your lips feel are indescribable, tingling his own, filling him with such longing it throws him right back to high school, right back to being hopelessly in love with a girl he felt he never had a chance with.

You gasp and pull back, eyes looking up to his, feeling his long fingers brush back your hair now, his exhale heavy, sweet breath washing across your face. “You wanted to kiss me?” Your soft question, so sweet when he doesn't deserve it, makes his body tremble.

Fuck he's nervous, him!?

He couldn't tell you how many women have woken up in his bed, how many have been on their knees pleasing him, how many photoshoots ended in him fucking his fellow model or even photographer somewhere on set. He'd never felt whatever this was, the need so tangible it takes everything to hold back and just kiss you, to form a fucking word.

“Yes, that was what I wanted to do. My first kiss… I wanted it to be with you.” His own voice, always so cocky and self sure, breaks, he curses himself, he's trying to be who he was, but who he was…

Wasn't enough.

Your glittery eyes dance as you touch the hand still on your cheek, leaning forward now, top slipping off your shoulder to show just a bit of your smooth, tantalizing skin. “Then let's have it, your first kiss.”

Fuck.

Satoru yanks you against him now, deepening the kiss, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips, earning them parting for his hungry invasion, dripping as it slips inside, and your hands grip his soft knit sweater, crying out. Satoru moans, yanking you on his lap, and then you're pressed against him, your heat already burning him through the thick layers of your clothes.

“Satoru…” The way you say his name makes him hungrier, slipping his hand under your shirt now, touching your bare skin and eliciting a shiver up your spine, as you feel him already pressing against you. His hand entangled in your hair as he eases back for a moment, his other pressing on your ribcage, blue eyes behind fogged up glasses as your breaths intermingle faster and faster.

“God I couldn't have imagined it,” he whispers, as you giggle a bit, taking off his glasses. “Practiced so much and still breathless.”

“You're being sweet. It scares me a little.” You admit, setting his glasses aside so you can study him, as he snaps out his retainer quickly, earning another giggle. “The man I talked to yesterday would never get a kiss from me.”

“But nerd Gojo would?” He smirks a bit, brushing your hair back, and you lean forward, cupping his face now.

“He never tried.” There is so much lingering in the air from the two of you, torn between desire, and the fear of what happens next.

“He was intimidated by how fucking perfect you were.” You laugh without humor then, shaking your head. “You were. You are.”

“Samantha is perfect, I'm a girl back home with her parents, in sweats and I need to wash my damn hair but I've been too cold to. Okay? I'm a normal girl in her hometown. You're the star here…” you look down shyly, making him swallow nervously, before glaring.

“You downing yourself right now? Do you not remember who you are?” You ease back, but he doesn't let you go far, a hand sliding up your bare skin, thumb brushing under the swell of your breast, igniting more inside you.

“I'm a teacher in a small town. You're a star.” He shakes his head now, but you smile sadly. “I want more than a kiss, but I also… don't just do this. If you leave and never talk to me again. I won't get over it,” Your tears fall against your cheeks, stabbing him in the chest then. “I never got over losing my best friend.”

“I'm so sorry,” his own words break, his tears falling now, and you're both shaking with emotions, as his thumb runs soothing yet enticing circles on your skin. “I should have never thrown you in with them.”

“No. You shouldn't have. But I lost you once and got through it, if I lose you again, I… can only handle so much lately okay?” He pauses his movements, nodding then, realizing God you've been through it.

He wasn't there.

Partying, drugs, liquor, women, money.

As his best friend - the girl he still loves - dealt with tragedy, her life shifted, and he wasn't there. The guilt eats away at him as you swipe his tears. Sniffling, you press another kiss on his lips.

“I'm not asking you to uproot your life. Just to not leave me so far behind again.”

He whispers your name, but you're shutting him off with more kisses, grinding now and making him moan, as he wraps his arms around your body, tongue devouring every inch as he tastes your mouth, your tongue, your teeth, tracing along every ridge like he can’t get enough. And oh, he can’t. He’s got his glasses back on his face so he can see you, when he lifts you like you’re nothing.

You’re under him on his bed in moments, he can do nothing but just look down at you, at how beautiful you are, the dream of you in his bed, something he couldn’t begin to describe, and he needs to see this. Your lips are parted, swollen from his kisses, looking so perfect he hardly holds back, it’s as if you’re some dream come to life suddenly.

A dream he forgot, but that never left.

One he’s terrified to let slip through his fingers. “Is this okay?” He asks softly, surprising you then, with the reputation you’ve heard of, you didn’t expect him to ask, especially so sweet, hand slipping down your breasts over your shirt, just making you even wetter against your panties.

“Yes.” Is your soft answer, earning his soft whimper when your thighs brush his hard cock for just a moment.

“Need to see you, fuck… please?” You nod shyly, and he does just that, hooking his fingers under the band of your sweats, eyes widening then as he sees them.

“Oh my god, Sailor Mars panties?” Satoru watches as you cover your face, so adorable he can’t take it, eyeing the wet spot in the white panties decorated with Sailor Mars all over. His cock throbs against his pants, against his mattress, as he continues to slip your sweats down your thighs.

“I am still a nerd, I didn’t get cool like you.” You tease softly, and Satoru shakes his head, pulling your hands off your face then.

“You’re still you, after all these years,” he shakes his head in wonder, brushing errant strands off your face then, sighing. “I love that you’re still you.”

“Yeah, are they really doing it for you? Probably used to like hundred dollar panties…” Satoru grips your chin as you turn your face, so clearly comparing yourself to models, it’s like you don’t know that none of them compare to how beautiful you are, the very energy around you.

“I find these sexier than anything.” You smile tremulously now, but he dives back down, fingers pressing into the plush of your thighs as he eyes your pretty lips from the outline of your panties now. “Do I need to prove it to you?”

“Maybe, Mr. Supermodel- ah!” Satoru’s lapped right on Sailor Mars’ little chibi face, which just happens to be where your clit is, making you cry out before you think of his mom there, fuck you feel like you’re sneaking around in school. You cover your mouth to hide another moan as his tongue laps you over the material, moaning softly and eyeing you.

“You’re the sexiest thing like this. Fuck I dreamt of…” He trails off now, blushing furiously, you reach down and take a breath, swiping back his silky locks.

“Dreamt of what, Toru?”

Toru.

Fuck.

He never thought he’d hear it from your lips again, inhale your sweet scent, taste you, it’s all too much, he leans up and slips those cute little panties down your legs too, watching your thighs quiver just a bit. He sees it then, your perfect cunt, fucking glistening from all the arousal already pulling from it. He exhales, pressing a kiss against it bare now.

You jerk up, just his kiss alone pushes you nearly over the edge, his glasses fogging up again as he breathes against you, so fucking sexy you can’t take it - can’t think of it all - the reasons you shouldn’t. He’s arrogant, you’re terrified this is some one time thing, you’re worried you can’t compete with what he’s had, but how he looks at you over those frames?

How he drags his tongue from your slutty little hole pouring out arousal, up to your twitchy clit, ever so slowly, moaning as if he’s never tasted anything better? How his cheeks flush, and his pretty blue eyes go almost black with desire? You can’t stand it anymore, you’ll think of everything tomorrow, for now you would allow yourself to have your Toru back, even if it’s not what you expected.

“You taste so fucking good, sweetheart, mnh…” He whispers now, watching you ease for him. “That’s it, spread 'em wide, lemme see all your pretty pussy.”

“Oh my god…” You’d never expect any of this, from nerdy Toru or Super model Gojo, the way he speaks to you - parting your plump lips now and eyeing it so lovingly, you can’t help but listen.

“You like hearing it, how pretty she is?” You cover your face again, gasping when he flicks his tongue on your clit again. “How pretty you are?”

“You don’t have to- mnh!” Satoru licks your clit again, groaning as he keeps staring, opening and closing your lips as if he was so fascinated by your pussy, only making you gush more, to his satisfaction.

“Sweetheart, I assure you, you’re perfect. So perfect…” He’s kissing your cunt now, breathing heavier and heavier, before dragging you by the fat of your ass, your thighs on either side of his head. “Want you squirting all over m’fucking face.”

“Oh!” You’re biting back a scream when Satoru goes feral, lapping at your cunt hungrily now, tongue dragging along your walls inside your hole to drink you, as his thumb presses your clit, playing every inch of you. “Toru!”

Satoru groans his response, feeling your hands entangle in his hair, slicked back from that gel, and his glasses are so fogged he can’t see. You take them then, slipping them on your face, and he laughs softly against you. “God, look at you, making those sexy?”

“You do it pretty well - ngh! Toru, s-sensitive there…” Satoru moans now, looking at you in his thick prescription, biting your lip so hard, while he slips up your shirt, you yank the rest off for him, revealing those pretty breasts.

“Play with them f’me, hmm?” He whispers, you do as he says, cupping them and running your thumbs over your nipples, he leaks more precum at the sight, god he has never wanted someone like this. It’s high school but a million times worse, now that your taste is coating his tongue. “Good girl, just like that.”

You’ve never been spoken to like this, you’re suddenly furious at whoever got looked at like this, by your Toru, knowing you shouldn’t fucking think that way, that it’s fleeting - feelings and a connection. That he’ll move on, and maybe think fondly on whatever happens, but it’s hard to not crave him, your best friend that currently is lapping at your cunt.

Your hands squeeze again as he hits just that spot inside you, tastebuds rubbing against slick walls that quiver, your hips arching up for more, more, more. Satoru buries his face against your cunt now, slipping his fingers inside you, the stretch of them so ridiculous you barely cover your scream.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he whispers in wonder, sinking two inside your tight entrance, as she sucks him greedily, his blue eyes looking right at you, ending you as you’re closer to the edge. “So wet just f’me, aren’t you?”

You nod weakly, and he dives back down, sucking on your little clit while your cunt spasms around his fingers, and he pictures sliding so deep inside your cunt, fucking ruining you. God he wants to feel her pulsing around his length, still straining and making his boxers a sticky mess, but he also doesn’t want to miss a fucking drop of you.

“Cumming, cumming!” He moans now, curling his fingers up and looking up under snowy lashes, as your hands grip his hair, pulling it so hard it hurts in the best fucking way, while he watches you, chin glistening from you.

“Then cum, sweets, lemme drink you up.” You’re shattering with one more curl of his fingers, one more flick of that tongue on your clit, milky sweet cum just gushing down his fingers while your walls pulse and flutter, and his moans vibrate, making it even more intense as it washes all over you.

“Toru!” Your cry is weak and small as you hold back the pornographic moans that were going to rip from your throat, shaking violently as waves of pleasure roll through you, so sensitive that just the next brush of his fingers alone has you spiraling back out of control, sobbing at how good he feels. “Oh my god.”

“There, let it all out honey, you’re doing such a good job,” his fingers scissor in and out of your cunt as he leans over you, your hands slipping up under his sweater, making his heart race faster. “Taste yourself, hmm?”

You nod eagerly, expecting a kiss, but he’s opened your mouth, spitting the clear, sticky arousal in your mouth. You gasp and almost choke at it, all while he keeps fingering your cunt, feeling it spasm and get so sloppy he can barely keep them in, she wants to push him out with those tight little muscles.

“Swallow.” You do as he orders, feeling insane, his grin devious as his feral fucking bright blue eyes. “God, look at you… wanna cum again?”

“I c-can’t again, it’s… Satoru shouldn’t I…” He shakes his head, slipping his fingers out and rubbing them up and down your slit, before sucking your juices, so much, off his thick fingers, cheeks hollowing as you watch with parted lips. You ease the glasses with a shaky hand on the nightstand, blinking him into focus.

“I could do this all night, I don’t need anything in return.” It’s true, though before you - yes, he loved to pleasure - but he got his own too. But with you? He’d lick you till his fucking jaw locked up, until you passed out, tapped out.

“But I want to.” Your hand slips down his chest, as you try to get a breath, hand so shaky he pauses it, pulling it up to his lips, pressing a kiss there.

“I’d let you do anything,” he realizes how vulnerable it is, when he sees tears in your eyes. “What is it?”

“I’ll miss you worse now.” He kisses you again, heavy weight pressing upon you now, and you’re desperate for it, for him, you’ve never felt this, anything close to how bad you want him inside you. “Only doing this once seems cruel.”

He laughs softly, shaking his head, brushing your hair back and looking down into your eyes. “I’ll fly you out to my place whenever, fuck every weekend.”

“You would not, and I couldn’t,” he kisses down your cheek, the curve of your delicate neck, breath tickling your ear. Your hands cling to his sweater, whining out softly when you feel his hard cock against your throbbing cunt. “I couldn’t just up and leave so far…”

“Then you fly out once a month and I’ll make it well worth it.” He’s smirking confidently, and you want to giggle or agree, but you frown. “Too much too quick?”

“I just… you’ll go back to your life.” You’re caressing his cheek, watching his eyelids lower. “Beautiful women. And it’s fine. But I wouldn’t want to be on the roster if that makes sense.”

“I…”

“No, no, not this. This, I can’t stop it if I wanted to. But I wouldn’t be okay with ever sharing.” Satoru blinks a bit, as your words sink in, and you sigh. “I’m taking it seriously already, ignore me?”

“Why ignore you?” He eases up on one arm, your little hand slips up his abdomen, making it tense, aching to dive inside your sweetness, holding back so hard, to see what you’re thinking.

“It must seem silly to you. I only do this in relationships. And it’s been a while.” He realizes then, what you mean.

Do you think that sex with you would mean nothing?

“I’ve kept up with your reputation. No judgement but, I had to make it clear. I couldn’t just come around sometimes and know you’ve been with-”

“Shh.” He kisses you again, unable to articulate it - that now that he’s tasted you he’s not sure he ever wants to taste another - now that he’s kissed you he damn sure doesn’t want to kiss anyone.

But it sounds insane.

He’s pathetic again for you. Only you. You’ve always done this, and now vulnerable and sweet, he wants to say it, but he falters, words aren’t easy - especially with you. He kisses you instead, hoping that you understand, but in your head, you’re thinking he’s done with your thoughts, too many thoughts surely. That those things didn’t need to be spoken of.

But you’re wrong.

He tries again to speak it, when there’s a gentle knock on the door, and you freak out, making Satoru laugh a bit. “Honey, we're grown.”

“Still! It’s your mom!?” You hiss, slipping up your pants, as he slides your shirt back over you, and tries to fix your hair, grinning. “How do I look?”

“Like you got fucked real good.”

“You are still an ass!” You shove playfully at him now, as he helps tie your sweats back, and you’re hurrying to the door, just when he sees them.

Those Sailor Mars panties.

He tucks them away before she peers in, smiling obliviously and eyeing both of you. “Toru, it’s snowing badly outside, I think she should stay the night?”

“Oh no, I’m used to the snow- oh!” Satoru opens his blinds, and you see it’s coated in white, everywhere, wind howling as the snow swirls. “It is insane, isn’t it? Is that okay though?”

“Of course it is. I can sleep on the floor.” He says softly, his mom sighs, blinking her pretty eyes, filled with tears. “Mom…”

“My Toru is home with his best friend. And being a gentleman.” You almost snort, as does he, thinking of just what you had been doing, but both of you don’t have the heart to say anything to Satoru’s pretty, sweet mother. She’s too precious.

“He’s been nothing but a sweetheart tonight. After being a jerk yesterday.” He groans, his mom scowling now.

“You were a jerk? My baby!?”

“Getting me in trouble, I’ll make you sleep on the floor.” He teases, walking back over to you and shoving you playfully, earning your smack.

“You better be sweet, I raised a good boy you know.” His mom pinches both of your cheeks now, grinning so big. “You two back here it feels so good, like it’s supposed to be.”

“Ah, mom you’re a mush.” But the guilt creeps in.

Satoru bought this house fully for her, fuck he’s begged her to leave, to move close. He always flew her out and lavished her with anything, and tried to spend time when he could, but he ultimately left her alone - after dad was long gone too. And he sees the toll it took on her and you, being without him.

He hates it, the guilt rising, when he was in LA he could ignore it, he didn’t see it, but his mom hugging you now hit too hard. Your little smile as she smacks kisses on your cheeks, as she starts going on and on as she always did with you. God some days he’d come home from his arcade visit and you’d be baking cookies with her, smiling at him when he came back.

It does feel right, it does feel perfect.

But he’ll leave, this is temporary, he has a life and a career. He has a whole world, and this wasn’t part of it. Could it ever be? Could he find a balance somehow, so he never hurt you or her like this again? Where would you even fit in his hectic world, a sweet little preschool teacher who has so many ties here?

His mind is whirling when he realizes his mom is talking to him. “Hmm?”

“I’ll make cocoa, do you want cocoa? Extra marshmallows and whipped cream?” You look at him as well, so pretty then it breaks his heart, imagining ever not seeing that face again.

“Cocoa, yes. All the sugar.” You grin at that, and his mom rushes down the stairs, leaving you two alone, your hand resting on his chest, feeling his racing heart.

“You’re living on the edge with me hmm?” He laughs a bit, but the laughter doesn’t reach his eyes, not when he’s thinking how badly he never wants to leave this little bedroom, like some snowglobe with just you and him inside.

“I’m making all sorts of bad diet decisions. But, I think I already had something super sweet.” His whisper, along with his trailing fingers down your waistband make you heat up, burying your face against his chest. “The sweetest thing I’ve had.”

“No way!”

“Mmm, oh yes. I have a sweet tooth you know.” You giggle again, so fucking cute he can’t stand it, hands gripping his sweater.

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor. We could cuddle.” He exhales at the thought, wondering if he could handle it.

“Yeah, you want me to keep you warm?” You nod quietly, when his mom comes back, and fuck it brings him to those days.

He was happy.

Sure, people were fucking mean and picked on him, but with you he always had love, a best friend, someone who spent all her time with him. Someone who never judged him, who encouraged him to be himself - and he threw you to the fucking side. As he’s sipping the sweet drink and the two of you are standing by the window, watching the snow, he can hardly stand to swallow.

“Satoru, we can just cuddle, I wasn’t insinuating all that.” You make his eyes widen now.

“What are you talking about?”

“You seem tense. Are you having second- mmm!” He kisses you then, one hand on the hot mug, whipped cream on his lips, and you exhale, stepping closer, as he wraps an arm around you.

“I’ll fuck you all night or hold you, or I’ll lick that pretty cunt again and again until you go to sleep,” your heart hammers, when he presses you even closer. “That’s not why I’m tense, I was just feeling horrible.”

“Don’t please!”

“I do. You can’t make it not happen, you can’t just forgive me, and make me not feel like shit.” He sets down the mugs then, cupping your face with both hands, looking down as your head falls back, meeting his gaze. “I don’t know what all I can promise, but I swear I’ll never leave you behind like that again.”

“Toru, just…” You yank him down, as he kisses you, deeper and deeper, as if the two of you can’t get enough, when his mom walks back up, clearing her throat, and you all part quickly.

“More snacks, ignore me!” She leaves the tray and runs out, shutting the door and giving you both a thumbs up, and you both laugh now, laugh so hard it feels so good, so beautiful then.

“I love her.” You say, swiping an errant tear.

Satoru almost says it.

He loves you.

He still does, fuck it’s worse, the ache and pull in his heart, his soul, he could shove it back before, chalk it up to high school, to an infatuation with a friend, all misplaced. But now he can’t stop the thought, running circles in his mind, as you take a breath, holding his hands, kissing him once more, leaned up on your tiptoes, as he returns it, soft and sweet.

“Do you um… have protection?” Your whisper makes his cock throb, and he curses softly.

“God nothing here is any good, eight years ago? Expired.” You laugh as he goes to his drawer, and you see your picture, gasping.

“Is that me in my bikini?” You snatch it up, next to ancient condoms and lotion and tissues. He chuckles then, shaking his head as your mouth drops open. “Toru, did you jerk off to me!?”

“Constantly.”

“What!? That’s kind of hot?” He laughs again, as he pulls out the condoms, eyeing the dates.

“Jerked it since I found out how to, always to you.” You’re blushing furiously, handing him back your photo now, and he tosses the condoms in the trash. “Expired long ago.”

“So none with you? Notorious man whore.”

“Hey now.” He glares and you just giggle again. “No I didn’t bring any with me, so option two, I eat you out again, or option three we can cuddle.”

“Ah, I can’t take anymore of your tongue, he’s insane.” You tap his lips playfully, looking down a bit shyly. “Is tonight our only night?”

“What no! No, I mean, no.” He’s such an idiot still, you make him stutter and nervous as fuck just existing. “I’ll spend tomorrow with you too, and if you still want to do more, I’ll have them. Okay?”

You nod, burying your face against his chest again, feeling his soft knit against your skin. “You won’t be missing out on anything will you?”

It was worth anything to spend the last couple days with you, whatever he has to push off or manage, whatever he has to do to delay his trip home somehow, he will. Because no way this is all he gets of you, a night or two, he needs just a little more, to learn you, to make it up to you - to find who both of you are still.

He needs more of you.

“I’ll be fine, now let’s lay down, hmm?” Soon you’re snuggled on his twin bed, smushed together so much his cock won’t go down, and he’s groaning.

“Satoru, I can take care of you.”

“No, I won’t settle for a hand or mouth when I know how good that cunt feels,” you gasp as he yanks you closer, his words making you whine softly. “I’ll enable the pull out method despite wanting to cum inside you.”

“You’re insane you know!?” He just chuckles, kissing your neck. “I’m good at sucking dick… I remember things!”

“I bet you are, sweetheart. I’ll let you when I know I can fuck you.”

“Can’t control yourself with me - ah!” You’re wiggling, teasing him by pressing your ass against him, when he holds you still.

“Don’t tease me, you’ll end up pregnant.”

“Satoru!”

“I’m so serious. This is like a lifetime jerking off here you’re fucking with. Now go to sleep.” You sigh, shaking your head at him, as he smiles, and you feel the curve of his lips against your neck.

“Good night, Toru.”

“Good night, sweetheart.”

*****

The next morning he finds his cock pressed right against your lush ass, literally leaking precum as he wakes up from a dream of fucking you in a mating press. God he was filling you so much it was pouring out, the memory alone mixed with his hand somehow squishing your tit is enough to make him whimper.

You’re shifting, still asleep as he curses softly, his phone going off. He uses his free hand to check it, rolling his eyes and putting it to his ear. “Yeah, what?”

“Gojo! What do you mean ‘what’, there’s a shoot in an hour, and it’s an hour drive- just where are you!?” It’s Samantha, whiny as ever, he grimaces, looking down as you blink sleepily, yawning.

“I’ll be there, fuck calm down. The roads were bad…” He eyes outside now, the snow has melted mostly, sun bright and shining, casting shadows on your face as you  look up at him, smiling shyly. “They’ll understand the delay. Get your makeup together and shit.”

“Oh fine, I’m lonely and bored though!” He rolls his blue eyes again.

“Yeah yeah.” He hangs up, but not before you hear her screaming, and you laugh a bit softly at that.

“Samantha?”

“God I can’t stand her. I have to leave but you can stay as long as you want, I’ll call you when I’m done?” You nod, yawning again and stretching, making him pause when your tit pops out of your top, all turned and twisted. “Fuck, one more minute.”

“Huh? Ah!” Satoru sucks your nipple into his mouth, making your cunt throb in need, while he sucks on that peak.

“Like a dream I-” He pauses, you’re so enthralled you just stare, lips parted, eyes dilated, and he clears his throat. “I may have had a very vivid dream.”

“Did you, maybe I did too. Oh, fuck…” He’s sunk two fingers right in your snug little hole then, as his phone goes off, and he glares at it.

“I’ll kill her. I’ll end up on the news for murder.” You’re giggling, watching him balance the phone on his shoulder as he plays your cunt again, and you cover your cries with your mouth when his fingers find that spot. “Yeah, the red one, why because it’s your color? No, not pink. Not with your complexion.”

“Ngh!” A moan escapes, and you gasp, as he chuckles, thumb pressing your little clit and making it twitch as the sounds of your cunt echo in his room embarrassingly.

“What was that well, it’s my friend - oh fuck off. No we’re not sharing her, you really need so much help Samantha.” You’d laugh if you weren’t close to cumming, all while Satoru has you on the edge, your eyes roll back in your skull, gripping his bare forearm, feeling it tense as he works you. “Bye now.”

Satoru leans down to kiss you, drinking up your cries as your orgasm hits, sweet sexy moans he almost cums from. “Toru!”

“That’s it, look at you, so pretty like this.” His soft words ruin you - to compute that he’s the sweet boy you grew up with is almost impossible, when he slips those fingers out, putting them to your lips and spreading your cum like gloss. “Taste it with me.”

You nod weakly and he exhales, kissing your arousal off your lips, on you suddenly, and for a moment you want to say fuck it, fuck me, you wanna beg him to cum in you, which is insane. It’s stupid! But he makes you stupid, your cunt throbbing around nothing as his kisses ease, and he nuzzles his nose, sighing.

“God I don’t wanna get out of this fucking bed.” You smile at that, pressing more kisses, tasting your arousal as you do.

“You like cuddling me hmm?”

“Fuck yes. Every time you slept over I took the floor, remember?”

“I do. I wanted you to um,” you shyly look away, as Satoru blinks. “Sometimes I wish you stayed to hear how I felt.”

He swallows a bit, hating himself for a moment, for leaving you, and would he do it again? Would you come out or would this be it? Could Satoru fit you somehow, could he make sure he didn’t hurt you, even if it was by accident? He can’t stand the thought of hurting you ever again.

“I have to get dressed, sweets.” You nod understandingly, and lay there as he heads to the bathroom, covering your face and sighing.

Were you making a horrible decision?

Then why does it feel so right, him touching you?

Satoru’s back out quickly, all ready to go, pushing you down when you go to get up. “Stay longer.”

“But you’re not even here…”

“Still. Stay and sleep as much as you want.” He kisses you softly, you smile nervously, at how handsome he looks.

“You’re gonna kill it.” He grins, so boyish again, like the Satoru you knew, but something about him with Samantha is upsetting. It’s clear he had no interest, but that was his life, a tall model rich like him, and you’re just a girl from across the street.

Would he want you to fit in one day?

Was he true about his word?

“Don’t pout, pretty. I promise I will see you tonight. With unexpired condoms, if you want.” You’re getting all flustered, as he hums softly. “Sleep here more, I like the idea of you in my bed.”

“Okay, just a bit more.” He covers you up gently, kissing your forehead, dying to stay in the warm bed with you, as you snuggle deeper.

“Promise, I’ll see you tonight.”

You really hope so.

Your heart can’t take him just disappearing again.

Still a LOT of confusion but these two clearly want each other, will Satoru be willing to actually change though and would it ever work out!? - (narrator voice) find out on the next episode of dragon ball z lol

taglist #1- @pinkyvomit @saitamaswifey @kachowness @vraiao @artbligh @psychoartiste @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @bsenpai @simp-for-wanderer @rjreins @emonaculate @myahfig4 @casua11ycrying @psycren @blushedcheri @ureuphoriasworld @frozenmallows @kanaojacksonofc @rcveriees @xlilycoco @yukimaniac @sypnasis @tokina @sharkubi @tztuoo @hyori2 @yesdere @gradmacoco @gamerhere @seikamuzu @xinsonyax @vvaoo @angie420 @ria54sworld @blue-musingss @mysticmyth @asimpinamillion @arabellasolstice @ilovebeansyay @notme000 @emochosoluvr @iv-vee @heh123321 @fushikamo @danilovesboba @spookyy-gracee @satorusleftnut @clqxuds @femaholicc

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

 book 7 chapter 12 part 3 thoughts!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 12 OF THE MAIN STORY!!*** This spans part 269 to part 294, focusing on Riddle.

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that roughly unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

They land in a new location! New assets and everything. Trey identifies it as Crimson City in the Queendom of Roses.

This update opens with Silver showing the first signs of fatigue. (He audibly sighs; Ortho shows concern.) Silver insists he is fine but advises they avoid battles.

Cater laughs at Trey’s expense. He has never heard him scream so loud!! They should go to an amusement park in the waking world together. This is ironic xhsnsvekakw because these two technically did go to Playful Land together 😂

Trey begins to worry about where his glasses have gone. Apparently they fell off while they were hopping to Riddle’s dream. Idia says searching for lost items in a dream can be difficult but Trey would have perfect vision if he thinks hard enough about it. (Me, sitting here: this is a dream. Can you not literally just conjure up a new pair by imagining it.) Trey’s vision is so bad (he’s squinting just to see people’s faces) and he’s had glasses since preschool, so it’s hard for him to do that.

Ortho suggests using S.T.Y.X. tech and data to make Trey new glasses. But then Ace interrupts and announces he snagged Trey’s glasses. He saw them while falling and brought them to himself using magic; they aren’t damaged. The others, even Leona, praise him. (… but I don’t, because what is this time wasting nonsense 😭 MOVE ON ALREADY…) For a first year, his magic control is very good. Is it because he’s dexterous from basketball?

In exchange for saving the glasses, Ace asks for a cherry pie at the next unbirthday party.

LMAO apparently Ace got to practice using magic precisely because of being in Heartslabyul. Changing the color of the roses + other unbirthday party prep is done with magic. Ace also quickly learned how to clean up using magic to avoid Riddle’s wrath when the dorm leader patrols.

UHHHHH a police car starts chasing them?? It stops and a policeman exits, pulling… R rIDDLE?????!!??!?!?!

THE HE c K Is tHIS… CAtER MiSTAKES HIM FOR a CUTE giRL OR A MAGICAM INFLUENCER (IN thE FULL bODY MODEL YOU CAN SEE FisHNETS ON HIS leGS)

He calls the police officer an “old man” and speaks in a different cadence than usual. Higher pitched and more childlike. UHHHHH RIDDLE USES RUDE SLANG TOO… It’s not slang I understand; Adeuce identify it as exclusive to the Queendom of Roses

Errrrrrr, so Riddle was arrested for singing in the streets. He says he doesn’t see why people have to follow the rules 😱

Ah, Chenya’s in this dream!! He was in the cop car as well.

vdkabsjsvsusbkxks OH MY GOD Trey’s sounding like a concerned father 👨 Riddle spots Trey and gets all excited; the animation of the live 2D models also implies Riddle is grabbing and clinging to Trey’s arm.

Riddle and Chenya got arrested for starting a “surprise live” in front of the police station. (A “surprise live” is a spontaneous musical performance done in the streets or in public; they’re common in Japan.) They’re in a 2-man band! Riddle is the vocals and Chenya plays bass. It’s hard to keep members because Riddle keeps changing what kind of music they play. He says it’s boring to play the same thing every day.

Riddle doesn’t recognize everyone else so they reintroduce themselves. xhdvsjwbwkw Leona is smart enough to just call himself by first name; the last name might have given away that he’s royalty. (Typically, giving only your first name is a sign of familiarity or casualness in Japanese culture, but I don’t think that was the intention here.)

Riddle asks them to play with him in his band. H needs a guitarist, drummer, and keyboard player! Backup dancers and composers are also welcome, but even if not experienced.

Cater coming in clutch again… He volunteers to play guitar and changes into his Pop/Light Music Club uniform.

THIS iS SO WEIRD… Riddle calls Cater “Cay-kun” and “nii-san” 💀 Cater is freaked out by this too, even though he told Riddle earlier it was okay to call him “Cay-kun”.

Cater lies and says everyone else with him is skilled at playing too. For example, Leona is as good as a professional at drumming!! Leona starts to protest but Cater shuts him up. They need to do this to investigate 🎵 I continue to be baffled at how active Cater is in this dream and the last two. Holy hell, leave some crumbs for the rest of us…

DROPS TO KNEES AnD WEE PS OTL LEONA CHSnges tO HIS DIRM unIFORM AnD DAYS SoME CORNh shIT AbOUT HoW hEmMa SkILLED At DRUMS (lying bitch) THERe’A SpArKLE EFFDcts AnD EVERYTHING

Adeuce and Grim bring up their VDC experience (+ how Rook gave them 100 points in beauty)! Ortho volunteers his synthesizing abilities. He also can do lighting and video production. Sebek has been playing violin since he was little because he admires Malleus (erm, though Harveston Sledathon showed us Sebek sucks at playing it sooooo—). Silver says his farther showed him how to play the ocarina.

Riddle is so excited to have so many different people joining him. No matter how many times he invites Trey, he doesn’t join the band. Cater teases Trey and says his singing for their dorm’s events isn’t bad.

Riddle suddenly invites everyone to his house for tea?! This alarms Trey, but Riddle insists his mom will be happy to see him.

Trey worries the strawberry tart he brought with him from his own dream will get them in trouble. Cater and Grim offer to eat it in case of emergency!

L ch avajGqian SRBRk 😭 He says Riddle’s mom can’f be anywhere near as fierce as Malleus’s mom…

Leona starts to say something but doesn’t finish the thought.

Aaaand here we are at the Rosehearts residence!! Look at all the family photos. (This is not what the home looks like irl; there aren’t this many photographs, probably because Riddle implies that his parents don’t have a happy marriage 😢)

WhAT YhD fuKKKJKKk

Riddle’s mom speaks in a much higher pitched voice and sounds so caring. (We don’t get to see her; it’s just a voice since she’s speaking from the kitchen.) She calls him “Riddle-chan” and is happy he brought so many friends.

Chenya notices the strawberry tart Trey brought in. Grim tries to eat it but Riddle explodes on him, saying that it is HIS. Riddle’s mom is okay with this 💀 and Riddle confesses he has tarts twice a week, even when it is not his birthday.

Riddle goes to have his mom slice the tart up. As soon as he leaves, Trey releases a HUGE breath. He was so nervous about Mrs. Rosehearts losing her temper. Ortho senses his vitals shooting through the roof and recommends he sits down.

They start looking at the photos on the wall. Oh, Riddle’s dad is there too. Ace comments that the focus of the pictures if Riddle while the parents’ faces are blurry. (Is it because Riddle cannot imagine what his parents’ happy faces look like 😭) One of the pics is 6th grade sports day (an egg balancing on a spoon race), another is them swimming, Halloween, etc. Riddle was able to have a happy childhood with Chenya and Trey; their families hang out too.

Lore about family photos time?? Cater’s sisters and mom of course love to take them. Ace’s mom shows baby photos in the house. Sebek’s dad wants to take pictures more than his mom does. Deuce’s mom uses her phone. He has the framed photos in the closet in his rebellious phrase but wants to take them out when he wakes up. Lilia has an instant camera and uses it to take pictures once a year on Silver’s birthday. The Shroud parents have family photos at their work desks. Ortho regularly sends them photos and videos of school events.

Leona’s special cuz he’s a ✨ prince ✨ A newspaper has a photographer assigned to the royal family. He’d take pics without permission and the public relations officer had to confiscate them. Leona naturally hates family reunions that are arranged just to enhance their image. They’re not fun and people just pretend to be friendly.

dbjsbsjwjens Leona doesn’t really have photos of himself when he was young but his mom and Kifaji would take casual pics. He hates when he gets pestered for photos… like his Ceremonial Robes vignettes! Apparently they want the pictures to decorate the private dining room, Mr. Kingscholar’s hospital room, etc.

Ummmmmmmmmmm… Trey ain’t lookin’ so hot…

He says he has no memories of what is in these photographs. He + Chenya only played with Riddle for a month or two before the tart incident, and Riddle went to a private school whereas he + Chenya were public.

Riddle drops 5 sugar cubes into black tea, plus plenty of milk and honey. Leona makes a snide remark about how it’s rude for the host to not take the guest’s preferences into consideration to serve them OTL (you’re so right, king—)

Riddle offers everyone a chiffon cake and butter cookies his mom made. But… hm? That’s weird. They taste strangely hard and aren’t very sweet. Trey automatically identifies the ingredients; they must be the healthy ingredients Mrs. Rosehearts actually uses irl, because Riddle’s imagination is pulling from memories of his mom’s cooking.

Chenya can use magic but… Riddle can’t?! His dad is a novelist who writes stories with his son as the protagonist and his mom is a housewife full time. Neither can use magic.

sdlhbsdyoaeyai RIDDLE SHOUTED ME OUT/j He said that him being able to use magic is "as impossible as a raven being like a writing desk" 😇

Riddle becomes upset that they’re whispering to each other. They should speak up at his tea party!!

HUHHHHHHHH Riddle says be didn’t go to school?????? And he hates studying?! Deuce shouts that he uses to hate school and studying, but at NRC his dorm leader and the teachers taught him well. dhsvsjjww Riddle hates books without illustrations, but Sebek counters that there are books that will suit his taste.

Riddle doesn’t want to read??? His dad will tell him stories orally while Riddle plays with toys. And he works from home, so Riddle can ask him whatever he wants whenever he wants.

Cater brings up play croquet at their dorm.

Uuuh Riddle becomes fed up with the topic and demands it be changed. No problemo, cuz Ace was gonna talk off the cuff anyway. People start to consider leaving the band due to Riddle’s inability to read the room and his lack of ambition.

Riddle gets mad and starts raging. In seeps the darkness. We try to leave but Riddle prevents them. The entire room they’re in becomes like… locked? So they cannot leave.

A simple color palette swap makes this look like a scene straight out of a horror game.

A bunch of tea rushes in from another room and everyone works together to close it. They dream form change out of their tea-Soaked clothing.

They deduce that the room itself is the NPC and it must have been pretending to speak in Riddle’s parents’ voices since no one ever saw them. The room where Riddle’s dad works produces a flood of manuscripts, whereas the kitchen is a torrent of black tea. Suddenly, a hand emerges from the tea…! IT’S RIDDLE’S MOM TRYING To DrAg ThEM IN

They hear humming and Chenya appears! Leona threatens to turn the house to sand BUT HE GETS COLLARED 💀 Trey tries to overwrite the collar with his own UM but gets collared too. “Anyone that tries to escape the house will be beheaded”, according to the dreamer’s will.

It’s hard for them to locate Riddle; the space keeps twisting and turning and the magic formula governing it keeps rewriting itself.

ERRRRRR the black tea in the room is increasing even if nothing is gushing in from the kitchen anymore… This truly is one big horror movie now OTL

They try to climb onto/into stuff to keep afloat. Then we hear someone crying… Riddle? His tears are what’s filling up the room. He says, “I want to get out…” UM???? Of your living situation????? (Not me laughing around Leona saying in his most insincere voice “We’ll help you, so show yourself”…)

Leona compares Riddle to a rose with thorns, hurting people indiscriminately. (Okay, oddly poetic when you’re on the brink of death but sure, pop off)

Trey begs dream!Chenya to please show them the way to Riddle. The other card soldiers speak up and talk about how strong and admirable of a leader Riddle is. Finally, Chenya agrees to show them a shortcut.

ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

We cut away to Idia’s dream?? He is preparing hacks and such for the final battle against Malleus. But um?? Is struggling to reconnect to Ortho and the others to provide support.

Suddenly, knocking at his door! Idia wonders if it is S.T.Y.X. staff???? UH-OH IT’S MALLEUS AND HE DEMANDS TO BE LET IN (he realizes Idia is awake)

We don’t get to see what happens to Idia; we cut back to the second layer of Riddle’s dream. It’s a ruined rose garden…

Ortho realizes the connection to Idia was dropped…

Riddle is berating some mobs (rule 372: if a red mushroom grows, the roses must be white). He has dream!Adeuce send them off to a punishment room where they have to write down rules 300 to 500.

Dream!Cater overhears some mobs whining. He and dream!Trey remind everyone Riddle is always correct and they should salute and follow him. Riddle has an evil laugh… and then has a smile as he says his mother was right all along.

Seeing this, Trey wonders if this is the future that would have happened if he didn’t get “lucky” and overwrite Riddle’s magic that one time.

Oh???? Silver says his father told him magic originally was a miracle birthed from a strong desire in the heart. He says that it was, then, no mistake that Trey’s Paint the Roses trumped Riddle’s magic. It was Trey’s own strong desire to stop Riddle that allowed him to turn the rose bushes into playing cards.

Chenya reappears and offers to show us more. He sneaks over, pulls on Riddle’s cloak, and makes him fall over?! Which pisses him off, obviously.

Riddle blows away the bushes we’re using to hide and is shocked to see doubles of his students. Leona gets fed up and confronts Riddle about how this is all a dream.

LMAOvvvvvsnbabzgajavaowkw Dream!Trey tells Riddle to not listen to Leona… LEONA IS A CORRUPTING FORCE AND A BAD INFLUENCE 💀 I want to argue, but… he sort of has a point…

Riddle commands we be captured and taken to the punishment room too. The mobs start to praise Riddle for everything he has done for them, including (for some reason) lowering their tension and giving them a reason to live????

Leona tells Riddle’s it’s empty and meaningless to be cheered on by an illusion. But Riddle insists he is happy this way. THIS IS SAD, he’s equating fear, respect, and love… What the fuck does this say about his own feelings towards his mother??

A bunch of Heartslabyul students descend on them. Without help from Idia, we can’t defend!! We tear off into smaller groups and run into the rose maze.

This is fr so sick and twisted 💀 Riddle is starting to wake, but dream!Cater and Trey tell him not to think of painful things. If he wakes up, everyone will hate him and he will be alone again—and Riddle doesn’t want that, right? So Riddle agrees, no one should be able to leave the world of dreams.

Okay so group 1 is Yuu, Grim, Sebek, and Ace. Group 2 is Leona and Deuce. Group 3 is Silver and Cater. Group 4 is Trey and Ortho.

Their phones don’t work so they cannot text or call each other.

Rule 63 is this: those who upset the queen in her court will be chased in the rose maze by card soldiers. If you try to climb or jump over the trees, they will attack you. In Diasomnia, there are thorns under the drawbridge that have a similar protective function. Though now, Malleus has a protective barrier around the dorm.

They hear Deuce calling out to them and Ace is suspicious. He tells Sebek, Yuu, and Grim to be quiet and let him handle this.

Ace goes up to Deuce and “reveals” himself to be darkness. Deuce is relieved and reveals himself to be darkness too. Ace, pretending to be darkness, tries to convince dream!Deuce that the real Deuce and Leona went “this way”. Unfortunately, Sebek concludes Ace was actually darkness and intended to betray us. So Grim breathes fire, melting away the wax (?) Ace was using to disguise himself as darkness and he realizes their mistake.

dbsjbsjw THERE’S a SiLLY TRUMPET SfX TO suMMON THE oTHER CARD sOLDIERS

They beat back dream!Deuce, but now too many soldiers are swarming them. Sebek accepts the onus for not trusting Ace and jumping to conclusions; he uses Living Bolt to clear a way for Yuu, Ace, and Grim to run away while he stays behind.

Now let’s bounce to Leona and Deuce! dgshevkw Deuce thought he was with Ace, Yuu, and Grim… but nah, it’s Leona! Leona tried to run off by himself, like in the opposite direction of the loudmouth Sebek www Instead he’s stuck with Deuce…

LEONA syING hE’S GONNA SMSvk RIDDLE

Omg Vargas Camp canon to main story??? Deuce talks about a sports club camping trip to the mountains led by Vargas.

Ace shows up acting relieved he found Deuce and Leona. REALLY starts glazing Leona up too, talking about how strong he is and how he could easily overpower Riddle if they act as bait. Deuce becomes suspicious because Ace wouldn’t say stuff like that, even if he thought it. He demands to know what Ace’s dream was—but Ace cannot answer, so Deuce knows this must be darkness?

Leona tells Deuce he will turn some bushes to sand; he should sprint through them quickly.

nuuuUquUUYYR hE CALLS bdeuCE A GOOD BOyYYYTG OTL (like, loyal dog/follower of his dorm) AnD HE DIESNmF DiSLIKE THAT OTL

Leona claims to be a kind prince LOL uhhh he does The Plan and Deuce escapes! Leona is left behind to fight off dream!Ace and his heart suit goons.

Silver and Cater run into what I assume is dream!Trey. Cater wants he and Trey (who are familiar with the ever-changing maze) to split up and search for the first years, but dream!Trey wants to stick together.

Cater asks Silver if he ever gets tired of fighting the darkness. How does he do it?? Silver confesses he almost gave into it many times but his friends were always there to pull him out of it.

Oh, Cater’s dad has been transferred for his job less as of late, so now he is able to have more long term relationships. Cater also reveals he used to room with Trey prior to third year (where they have separate rooms).

Lore drop, Heartslabyul is the second oldest dorm.

Cater tells a story about how he pitched the idea of transferring to Scarabia with Trey, which dream!Trey agrees with. Turns out, it was a bait laid out by Cater to test of this Trey was real—and dream!Trey fell for it! He admits that he started to suspect Trey was fake when Trey wanted to stay together rather than split up. Trey, who is an older brother, would always prioritize the safety of the first years!

AHHHHHH they’re being overwhelmed and they’re running short on magic :<

Last group to check in with is Trey and Ortho…! Trey shares more about the plants in the garden. They’re magical and must be grown by hand. Some of the plants move if you command them to, bur some others are stubborn. In spring, they have a concert with the flowers. Ortho says the trees in Pomefiore are raised similarly to the Heartslabyul plants.

OKAY SO. Pomefiore is the oldest dorm, then Heartslabyul, THEN Diasomnia. This all but confirms a fan theory that the age of the dorms corresponds with each dorm's irl film inspiration release date. From oldest to youngest, that would be

Pomefiore- 1937

Heartslabyul- 1951

Diasomnia- 1959

Octavinelle- 1989

Scarabia- 1992

Savanaclaw- 1994

Ignihyde- 1997

Aaaaah here comes the dream!Cater. He claims he escaped alone.

Trey discusses Cater’s magic and how it’s like casting 2-3 spells at once since Cater has to use magic to manipulate each clone. Thus, the power level of Cater and his clones goes down. Meanwhile Riddle’s UM can impact multiple people at once and he can spellcast quickly.

HUUUUH Cater applied to duel Riddle not too long before his third year? Wait no, that’s a lie Trey came up with to entrap dream!Cater! Trey knew it must be a fake because he doesn’t see Cater as the kind of guy to leave others behind and escape to safety on his own.

Trey tells Ortho to escape without him…!

That leaves us with only Adeuce, Ortho, Grim, and Yuu able to escape. They regroup and find their captured allies tied to rose trees. Trey begs Riddle to wake up.

Deuce suggests to use his UM to defeat Riddle, and Ortho volunteers to be Deuce’s shield (~10 seconds) while he aims, since Riddle’s UM does not work on Ortho.

Rare moment of development for Yuu??? They have dialogue options and can express that they feel useless, constantly being protected and not able to help.

Ortho asks us to protect Idia’s tablet. And Ace is entrusted to protect Yuu and Grim!

dbjsnsksks Deuce’s plan doesn’t really work out. Riddle starts spamming spells that throw Ortho off; Deuce can’t get his aim quite right.

Grim tries to scamper out to fight but Ace holds him back. Ace becomes increasingly frustrated that he keeps being protected by others (Sebek, Deuce, Ortho) and can’t do anything to help.

AhHHHHHH Ace has his own little depression flashback moment 🥺 calling himself pathetic, lame, useless… unable to save anyone at all. But then words start coming to his head…!! He disrupts Riddle just as he’s able to collar Deuce!

“I’ll take your best/most precious treasure. Joker Snatch…!”

HE COLLARS RIDDLE :000 Deuce uses his UM and shovk Riddle awake… I can’t believe the class 2E boys both got physically beaten into submission 💀

WOW Cater NYOOMS to Riddle and hugs him?!.?:’snwkgelek

Sebek offers to carry Ortho, but Ortho is super heavy.

UHHHH here comes the darkness… Adeuce rush over to help Riddle, even though he commands them to go to someplace safe. (SEBEK CALLS ADEUCE BY THEIR NAMES AND NOT "HUMANS"!!!) Riddle commands Trey and Cater to remove Adeuce and they do as he says; we of course follow after Riddle as he sinks.

Riddle has his moment squaring off against his Phantom. It's quite interesting; his darkness exclaims that he must hang onto the seat because he has nothing else. Everyone loathes him, so he has to do everything he can to cling to power. Riddle calls himself out for the tyrant that he is and expels that darkness.

Rule 1 of the Queen of Hearts: to stay where you are, you must run with all of your might. From now on, Riddle says he will do just that.

He resurfaces in his home and is approached by his mother, who claims he fell asleep while reading about crocodiles in the Nile River? (Wh-Why is the Nile River canon in Twst when that’s a real world location that should not exist in this one...)

Riddle summons his magic and collars his mother, making her melt away into nothing. He gets a really cool line...! "I refuse to stand in front of a door that won't open anymore. Even if the opening is as narrow as a keyhole, I will pry this door open with my own hand and move forward. I will walk forward, on my own path!"

THIS IS REALLY FASCINATING BECAUSE ALL THE WAY BACK IN THE EPISODE OF HEARTSLABYUL MANGA... THEY USED A DOOR AND KEYHOLE IMAGERY TO DEPICT RIDDLE COMING OUT OF HIS OB

Right as Riddle regains his senses, he crashes through the floor of his dream and... somehow lands where Idia is?! He's busy programming.

There seems to he… maybe a reference to Idia’s Bloom Broom vignettes??? Idia’s best subject is Summoning and he seems to have summoned Riddle to him? And Riddle says that he has read Idia’s research papers before; this was also mentioned in said vignettes (Riddle expresses an interest in his papers).

Idia tells Riddle that the Final Boss, Malleus Draconia, is waiting on the other side of his bedroom door...!

THAT'S IT, THAT'S WHERE WE LEAVE OFF???????? WE'RE DEFINITELY NEARING THE END, BOYS...

Okay, so first major thought I had!! Riddle’s dream confirms many of the thoughts I have ha about Trey and his feelings toward Mrs. Rosehearts and his own role in Riddle’s trauma. I have legitimately NEVER heard Trey sounding this panicked or scared, not even when Riddle was about to OB. Trey hurriedly rushes to put away the strawberry tart out of fear, just waiting for Mrs. Rosehearts to start shouting hysterically at him. Ortho even comments about Trey’s vitals rocketing. This definitely reads to me as Trey being traumatized by that whole incident 💦

BIG BRo CATER CONTINUES… Him making up the lie about Leona being a great drummer was so dumb but it worked!! And then he cares so much about Riddle when he finally wakes… would never run off on his own and abandon his friends… 😭 HNNNNGH CATERRRRrrRRRRR WhEN i CmgEFt MY gaNDS ON YOUUUUUuUUU

And holy cow, there was SO much symbolism in Riddle’s dream 😳 dream!Mrs.Rosehearts’s sweets looking good but is insincere and tasting terrible, as opposed to Trey’s tart which looks terrible from the rough travel but is made with care and tastes good… Riddle wishing for a happy family life so his house is crammed with photos… parents that are always emotionally available for him… not having the pressure of being a mage or having a legacy to live up to… the house being a place that locks them inside (because it might feel like a prison to Riddle)... Not just symbolism for Riddle's desires too, but also tons of Alice in Wonderland references!! ASFIHBAYOSFPADFIA I'D WASTE SPACE IN THIS POST LISTING THEM ALL OFF, BUT JUST KNOW THEY'RE THERE AND THEY WERE AMAZING FOR ME TO EAT UP AS AN ALICE IN WONDERLAND STAN

It’s interesting how Chenya here serves as sort of a helpful NPC to us, similar to Kifaji. His actions are a lot more dubious here; he’s not strictly good and spends most of the dream siding with Riddle. Chenya only swaps sides when we convince him. I wonder if he, too, represents some self-aware part of Riddle??? Since Riddle was later shown trying to maintain the dream world even when he learned it was fake.

They tried to recapture the glory of book 6 by having the characters split up. I'm not sure if it worked as well (since each was kind of short and repeated a lot of the same lore about the Heartslabyul rose bushes), but it served its purpose. The best part was definitely how the Heartlabyul students used what they knew of each other to figure out the fakes. It's a very effective but subtle way to show how they've become more familiar with one another. I feel like this update overall was very lore-heavy. We learned new stuff about the dorms' ages, their protective measures, their plants, etc.

It was interesting to have a rare moment of character development for Yuu? They barely get anything in way of characterization, so that surprised me. I wasn't expecting ACE to get his whole Depression Arc in the middle of Riddle's dream either--but I guess whining hard enough works, because he finally FINALLY got his UM!! Still not sure how it works yet. It seems to let him steal/borrow or copy other's UM??? But Sebek describes it as "it seemed like you and Riddle swapped magic". We have to wait for more details to drop in a later update. Can't say I like the name for his UM though; it makes me think of him stealing a clown's wig. ASDULBIADBSPSAB So proud of Ace; with this, we now have the UMs and chants for every one of the NRC students!

Overall, Riddle really surprised me. His dream ended up being roughly THREE TIMES LONGER than the average dream 💀 Not sure if I like that pacing, but at least this was fun to dissect. I like that they seem to have put extra effort into this portion, especially since the game is called Twisted Wonderland. It feels like a homage to the original story, especially since that novel ended with Alice waking up. I loved that Riddle has an inner child that he represses, but that even his desires are "held back" by knowledge he doesn't have... like his parents' happy faces or what his mom's homemade baked goods might taste like. It made me feel for him. ASDIUBASDASBDBPASIqryrqp I kind of feel like a proud parent reading his cool line about finding his own path at the end. It's very different than himself earlier in the dream, ignoring difficult topics and actively denying reality, where he fears he will be left sad and alone OTL Ndhdiwjekw Not sure if I care for his actual childish behavior though… Slightly grating to me.

THE HORROR STYLE PRESENTATION WITH MALLEUS REALLY UNNERVED ME. I would shit bricks if I was Idia too, dang... I'm on the edge of my seat for the next installment. S-Surely book 7 will have to wrap up soon, right? RIGHT?????

[natalievoncatte]

Alex had been watching the man across the room for a while. If she’d been into men, he might have been her type- a little lanky and bearded, kind of a hipster air, one of those people who was born on the east coast and came west to fit in.

As she approached the bar she said, “You must be Alex.”

“Must I?”

He offered a genial hand to shake. “Jack Spheer. Lena invited me.”

Alex gave him a shake. “Oh, I know who you are. Lena and Kara both mentioned you a few times. Lena’s ex, right?”

He favored her with a dashing smile and saluted her with his drink. “Guilty.”

Alex turned and looked at Lena, seated across the bar at a table by herself, looking exhausted and overstimulated as she turned a drink between her hands and glanced furtively at Kara and Nia, who were animatedly playing Mortal Kombat on one of the barcade’s old game cabinets.

“Did she invite you?”

“Oh yes,” he said. “Can I swear you to secrecy?”

“Sure, why not.”

“She told me she feels a bit fifth-wheelish at these gatherings of yours.”

“That’s silly,” said Alex. “She’s sort of become the heart of our little band. She’s everybody’s little sister.”

“Nah, that’s Nia.”

Jack looked over at Lena and Kara. Nia lost the match and threw up her hands, and Brainy sauntered over. Nia put her arm about his waist and they fell into each other. Kara’s laugh looked a little strained, a little pained, as she turned to let the couple have their moment.

Kara was in fact staring at Lena now, leaning against a column and nursing a beer that lacked the potency to get her drunk unless she spiked it with the alien liquor in a flask in her purse, but Alex was sure she hadn’t touched it.

The only singles in the group tonight were Lena and Kara, and Alex remembered how Kara’s expression darkened when Lena mentioned he’d be joining them tonight to close out this new place they’d all be eager to visit.

“So are you two…” Alex said.

“No,” Jack laughed. Used to be, back in Metropolis. It ran its course.”

Alex turned and signaled the bartender to bring her and Jack another round.

“So you’re not thinking about making a move?”

Jack swirled his new drink and looked over at Lena, then down at the booze spinning in his hand.

“Thinking about it? Who wouldn’t. She’s gorgeous, you know. Obviously she has those model looks but it’s more than that, it’s deeper. She has the most soulful eyes of any woman I’ve ever met. You’d drown in them and never regret it. She’s a genius, she’s kind and driven. I’ve never met someone who’s so enthusiastic about kindness for the sake of kindness. She throws herself into goodness with such desperation.”

“Wow,” said Alex. “You have a way with words. You really must have deep feelings for her.”

“I do. I won’t say I love her as a sister, that’d be lie. I love her as someone who wants her highest happiness.”

“A girl would be lucky to have someone who sees her like that.”

“You would know,” said Jack. “Your Kelly introduced herself a while ago and had the same sort of high praise for you. By talking to your partner, you’d think you were Supergirl.”

Alex snorted. She glanced over at Lena and saw her still moping prettily, sighing into her drink with her cheek resting against her palm.

“She looks down,” said Alex.

“Unrequited love. Or so she thinks.”

Alex blinked. “What?”

“Don’t you see it?”

“I can’t say I do.”

“She’s in love. I know because she never really looked at me like that.”

“Like wha-“ Alex began.

Lena was looking at Kara, and suddenly Alex saw it. Lena practically radiated yearning, those big soulful eyes of hers so sad that Alex thought sappy music might start playing from nowhere. There was a deep need in that look. Every time Lena looked at Kara, she seemed afraid it was her last chance and she might never see her again.

“I dare say she’s quite in love with your sister.”

Now that Alex saw it she couldn’t unsee it. More than that, pieces began snapping together in her brain- how Lena had gone to absurd lengths to capture the attention of this klutzy, ditzy reporter that had come tumbling into her organized, minimalist, breakfast in California and dinner in Tokyo lifestyle, bringing friendship and a found family and all her bizarre quirks.

The billion dollar CatCo acquisition. The flowers. The look of pure relief in Lena’s eyes when Kara let her back into her life, let her come home.

“Jesus, you’re right.”

Alex took a long drink, then went completely still.

“Or so she thinks,” he’d said.

“Shit, they look like they’re in middle school. Every time Kara looks, Lena looks away.”

“And vice-versa,” said Jack.

Alex sighed. “Great. Just great.”

She suddenly realized that Kara was looking at them, now, and her eyes were wide, a look of unbridled shock on her face.

Goddamn Kara and her goddam bullshit super hearing.

Kara had locked eyes with Jack, and he looked back just as intently.

Then it happened.

Alex knew a bro nod when she saw one. Kara nodded back, pulled the flask from her pocket and took a nip for courage, grimacing as it went down, then turned, head down, and headed straight for Lena.

“Go get her, Supergirl,” Jack said softly.

“I’ll drink to that,” Alex said, offering Jack a toast.

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (09)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 4.7k

Aliyah's Notes: y'all are getting fed cause this chapter and the next one are gonna be cute asf so enjoy :)

Three days before the engagement party felt like an endless marathon, with every hour packed to the brim with decisions and errands. The morning started early—too early for your liking—as Aisha and Nina practically dragged you out of bed.

Nina, ever the “mom” of the group, had already prepared an itinerary. She stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, her phone in hand, while you slumped in a chair, still clinging to the remnants of sleep. “Alright, ladies,” Nina began, her tone brisk, “we’ve got a packed schedule. Venue first, then flowers, then caterers. We’ll fit in the designer appointment after lunch, assuming someone,” her eyes flicked pointedly toward you, “doesn’t take forever to make decisions.”

Aisha smirked, sipping her coffee as she leaned against the counter. “You know she’ll take forever. She was debating the color of napkins for twenty minutes for her birthday party.”

“Because they matter!” you protested, sitting up straighter, your natural energy kicking in. “The wrong napkin can throw off the entire table aesthetic. Imagine gold chargers with plain white napkins—horrible!”

Aisha groaned dramatically, while Nina pinched the bridge of her nose. “God give me strength,” Nina muttered in Tagalog under her breath before clapping her hands. “Alright, let’s move. The decorator is expecting us in twenty minutes, and I’m not letting us be late.”

The three of you piled into Nina’s car, and the drive to the venue was filled with your endless chatter. You couldn’t help yourself; you were excited. Ever since your night at Rafe’s, you’ve been walking around with a weight lift off your shoulders, and a smile on your face. “Okay, but seriously, do you think white and gold is too basic? Should I add a pop of color? Like blush pink? Or emerald green! Oh, that could be so chic—”

“Breathe, Miss. Yapper,” Aisha interrupted, shooting you a look from the front seat. “You’ve already settled on white and gold. Don’t backtrack now.”

“She’s just overthinking again,” Nina said from the driver’s seat, her voice calm but firm. “You always do this, sweetie. Just trust your instincts. They’re good… most of the time.”

“Most of the time?!” you repeated, feigning offense.

“Girl, you’re the one who almost ordered heart-shaped balloons for your ex’s retirement party,” your best friend deadpanned.

“He always complained about his job, alright! I thought he was happy to retire.”

The two of them burst into laughter, and you couldn’t help but join in. They always knew how to make you laugh, even when your perfectionism threatened to take over.

When you arrived at the venue, the decorator was already waiting, surrounded by samples of linens, centerpieces, and lighting options. The grand ballroom looked beautiful even in its unfinished state, with its high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows letting in streams of sunlight. But you could already see a million tiny things that needed to be fixed or adjusted.

Nina took charge of logistics, confirming delivery times and setups with the decorator, while Aisha kept you in check. Every time you tried to change something—a table arrangement here, a floral display there—Aisha would cross her arms and give you a warning glare.

“Focus, Y/N. You’re going to drive this poor decorator insane,” Aisha muttered as you debated, for the third time, whether the table runners should have a satin or matte finish.

“It’s not insane to want things to be perfect,” you argued, though your voice was tinged with doubt.

“It’s insane when you’re deciding between two things that look exactly the same,” Aisha countered.

“Pale beige and normal beige are completely different—”

Nina swooped in to mediate, her tone soothing. “Look, kids, both options are gorgeous. Y/N, pick one and move on. We still have three more stops today.”

You sighed, finally nodding and pointing to the matte finish. The decorator gave you a grateful smile, and you moved on to the next decision.

By the time you left the venue, your head was spinning, but there was no time to slow down. The next stop was the florist, where the three of you pored over bouquets and arrangements.

“Peonies are elegant, but are they too soft for the theme?” you mused aloud, holding up a sample.

“Peonies are fine,” Nina assured you, already checking her phone for the next appointment.

“Roses are boring,” Aisha chimed in, inspecting a cluster of orchids. “But these could work. They’re dramatic. Like you.”

You stuck your tongue out at her, earning a rare laugh from Nina. “She’s not wrong,” Nina said with a small smile.

The florist walked you through the arrangements, but your perfectionism struck again. You wanted everything to complement the aesthetic without feeling overdone. Nina stepped in when she sensed you starting to spiral.

“Y/N, just pick a theme and stick with it,” she said gently but firmly. “You can’t have every flower in the world at your party. Less is more.”

Aisha nodded in agreement. “Listen to her. She’s right. For once.”

Nina rolled her eyes but didn’t dignify the comment with a response.

Eventually, you settled on a mix of peonies, orchids, and eucalyptus, feeling a little more confident as you left the florist.

Lunch was a quick stop at a café, where you barely had time to scarf down a sandwich before heading to your next appointment. The designer fitting was a whirlwind of fabrics, sequins, and pins, with you trying on dress after dress while Nina and Aisha offered their unfiltered opinions.

By the end of the day, you were utterly spent. You stumbled through the door of your apartment, exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter onto the floor, and flopped onto the couch with a moan. Your feet ached, your head was pounding, and the thought of the work you have for tomorrow made you want to cry.

Just as you were debating whether to order takeout or crawl into bed and call it a night. Your phone buzzed—-your new phone that you bought yesterday after losing your original one and your keys at the charity event—-on the coffee table. You reached for it, squinting at the screen.

Rafe: “Longest. Day. Ever.”

A small smile tugged at your lips despite your fatigue. You propped yourself up against the armrest and typed back.

You: “Tell me about it. I’m so dead! Who knew choosing flowers could feel like a full-body workout?”

His response came almost immediately.

Rafe: “Yeah? Well, at least you didn’t have to run for AN HOUR!!! My legs feel like they’re about to give up on me.”

You: “Poor baby. Want me to send you a trophy for Most Exhausted Future Fiancé-to-Be?”

Rafe: “Ha. Ha. So funny.”

Rafe: “Are you sure we’re not married yet? You already sound like a nagging wife.”

The audacity of him made you chuckle and roll your eyes. You typed quickly, unable to help yourself.

You: “Excuse you? If I’m a nagging wife, then you’re a whiny husband.”

Rafe: “Whatever you say, nagging wife.”

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head as you sank further into the couch. The teasing back-and-forth was an oddly comforting way to unwind after such a chaotic day.

You: “Seriously though, did you at least eat? Or are you surviving off your ego again?”

Rafe: “Does a protein bar and water count?”

You groaned audibly, your fingers flying across the screen.

You: “No, Rafe. A protein bar and water do NOT count. A protein bar is not food; it’s a snack. Please tell me you’ve got something decent in your fridge.”

Rafe: “Define ‘decent’…”

You: “I’m going to kill you.”

Rafe: “That’s very romantic, baby, but you’re avoiding the question. What’s the verdict? Is my fridge decent enough for you, Your Honor?”

You: “No.”

You: “Knowing you, it’s probably full of water bottles, expired vegetables, and mystery leftovers. Am I wrong?”

Rafe: “I don’t like this attack on my character.”

You: “Answer the question, Cameron.”

Rafe: “Fine. Maybe you’re right. I don’t have the energy to argue. Or to cook, for that matter.”

You sighed again, a twinge of concern sneaking past your teasing. You guessed he pushed himself hard during training, but the least he could do was take care of himself after.

You: “Alright, what do you feel like eating? I’ll bring you something.”

Rafe: “What? No. You just spent all day running around. You don’t have to do that.”

You: “Too late. I offered, and I’m not taking it back. So, what’ll it be?”

Rafe: “...You’re really doing this, huh?”

You: “Absolutely.”

Rafe: “Fine. Surprise me. Just nothing too fancy. I’m starving.”

You: “Got it. Be there in an hour.”

Rafe: “Angel.”

Shaking your head, you pocketed your phone and headed to the kitchen. After a quick assessment of what you had on hand, you decided on a simple but satisfying dish: chicken biryani. 

Cooking helped you relax after the chaotic day. The process of measuring spices, chopping onions, and stirring the pot grounded you, your mind focused on creating something warm and filling. By the time the dish was done, the air was fragrant with the scent of saffron, cardamom, and cloves.

You packed the biryani into a container, added a side of pudding kheer for balance, and grabbed some naan for good measure. After a quick freshen-up, you were on your way to Rafe’s penthouse.

When he opened the door, the sight of him hit you like a punch to the gut. Rafe stood there in low-hanging sweatpants that clung to his hips, no shirt in sight, leaving every inch of his toned chest and sculpted abs on full display. His damp hair was a tousled mess, drops of water clinging to his skin, catching the light as they slid down the defined lines of his torso. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his gaze raking over you with a mix of cocky amusement and exhaustion. The lazy grin tugging at his lips was enough to make your pulse stutter—and the way his voice dipped, low and teasing, when he finally spoke didn’t help. 

“Well, well,” he drawled. “Look who showed up. My nagging wife bearing gifts.”

You rolled your eyes, forcing yourself to focus on the container in your hands instead of his sexy, very sexy abs. “You want dinner or not, Cameron? ‘Cause I can take it back?”

He instantly straightened up. “Come in, Your Honor,” he stepped aside to let you in, his grin widening when he saw the bag in your hand.

The penthouse was dimly lit, the warm glow of the city skyline visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. You set the food on the kitchen island, trying to ignore the way he was watching you with that infuriating smirk.

You looked at your attire, and rolled your eyes. “Stop staring at my ass and grab plates,” you ordered, sounding stern.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, clearly amused, but he obeyed.

The two of you sat at the island, the meal between you. You put your hair in a bun, and said; “So, this is chicken biryani—” you pointed to it. “—and this is kheer and some naan.”

“This looks amazing, Y/N,” he let out a groan of appreciation.

You blushed at the compliment. “Thank you. You ever had Asian food before?”

“I had sushi and ramen with my team—”

You chuckled. “I meant South Asian food, Rafe.”

“Oh. South Asian…”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You know, Indian, Sri Lankan, Pakistani, etc… Did you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t remember. I eat basic white man food, to be honest.”

“I realized,” you laughed. “Well, eat well.”

Rafe took his first bite, and his eyes widened. “Yo! This is delicious, what the fuck?”

You smiled, watching as he devoured the food like he hadn’t eaten in days. “Told you protein bars wouldn’t cut it—”

“You’re not going to eat?”

“I already ate,” you lied.

“Bullshit,” he said, giving you a pointed look. “Have some with me. I don’t like eating alone.”

You hesitated for a moment before giving in, grabbing a fork and joining him. The two of you ate in companionable silence, the tension of the day melting away with each bite.

For a brief moment, it didn’t feel like you were preparing for an engagement party or navigating the complicated arrangement that had brought you together. It felt easy, natural—like something that didn’t require overthinking.

You stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, rinsing off the plates and containers. Warm water rushed over your hands as you scrubbed away the remnants of biryani and naan. The scent of spices lingered in the air, a comforting reminder of the meal you’d shared. Behind you, Rafe leaned against the counter, his tall frame relaxed but his eyes fixed on you.

“You know,” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the faucet, “you really don’t have to do this.”

“You’ve said that already,” you replied without turning around, focusing instead on rinsing the plate in your hand.

“Because I mean it. I can clean tomorrow,” he quipped, folding his arms across his bare chest.

A chuckle escaped you, and you tossed him a look over your shoulder. “Some of us were raised to clean up immediately after eating. It’s a brown girl thing—no one leaves the kitchen messy in my house.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “Ah, so it’s cultural?”

“Hell yeah,” you replied, turning back to the sink. “If my mom ever caught me walking away from a pile of dishes, I wouldn’t live to see another day.”

“Sounds intense,” he teased, though his tone was laced with curiosity.

“You’re just white,” you shot back, and he laughed. “But also… I kind of like it,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “It feels wrong to leave things undone. Like you’re disrespecting the meal or something.”

Rafe was quiet for a moment, and you could feel his gaze lingering on you, not with judgment but something that felt closer to admiration.

“You’re kind of incredible, you know that?” he said finally.

You blinked, caught off guard. “For doing the dishes? Your standards are low, Cameron.”

He laughed, the sound deep and genuine. “No, I mean… just in general. You don’t have to cook for me or clean up after me, but you do it anyway. And you don’t even make a big deal out of it. You’re just… thoughtful.”

His words made you pause, your hands still under the running water. For a man who often masked his feelings behind sarcasm and cockiness, the sincerity in his voice hit you harder than you expected.

“Well,” you said, trying to keep your tone light, “don’t get used to it. Just because I cleaned your kitchen tonight doesn’t mean I’m signing up to do it forever.”

Rafe grinned, stepping closer. “Noted. One-time deal.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you shut off the faucet and reached for the dish towel. “Besides, I wasn’t cleaning for you. I was cleaning for my own peace of mind.”

“Still,” he said, his voice dropping slightly, “thanks. For all of it.”

You glanced over at him, caught off guard again by the softness in his tone. The cocky grin he usually wore was replaced by something more subdued, more genuine. It made your chest tighten in a way you weren’t ready to think about.

“It’s not a big deal,” you said, your voice quieter now. “Just food and a few dishes.”

“To you, maybe,” he said, leaning against the counter beside you. “But it’s been a while since anyone’s done something like this for me. I don’t even know the last time I had an actual home-cooked meal.”

That admission tugged at something deep inside you, a mix of sympathy and affection you weren’t quite prepared for. You focused on folding the towel in your hands, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your cheeks warmed.

“Well, someone has to make sure you don’t live off protein bars and bad decisions,” you said lightly, trying to steer the conversation back into familiar territory.

Rafe chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Guess I should count myself lucky it’s you.”

Your eyes flicked up to his, and for a moment, you forgot how to respond. The way he was looking at you—soft, unguarded, and almost reverent—made your heart skip a beat.

“Alright, stop,” you said, breaking the moment and brushing past him toward the counter. “You’re making it weird.”

“Making what weird?” he asked, following you with an amused grin.

“Everything,” you shot back, grabbing your bag. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you slacking off while I did all the work. Next time, you’re cleaning.”

“Deal,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “As long as there’s a next time.”

You hesitated at the door, looking back at him. His smirk was still there, but so was that softness in his eyes, the one that made it hard to look away. Bag slung over your shoulder and shoes slipped back on, ready to leave Rafe’s penthouse and head home for what was left of the night. The day had drained you, and though the quiet domestic moment you’d just shared with him was nice—unexpectedly so—you still needed to recharge for tomorrow’s chaos.

“You don’t have to leave yet,” he said, almost too casually, as if trying to disguise the sincerity in his tone.

You paused, glancing back at him. “Rafe, it’s late. I’m exhausted. You’re exhausted. We both need sleep.”

He shrugged, his mouth curling into that boyish grin that usually meant trouble. “So? Five more minutes won’t hurt. Sit down, relax. You’ve been running around all day.”

You narrowed your eyes at him but relented, curiosity getting the better of you. “Fine. Five minutes,” you muttered, dropping your bag onto the floor again and heading to the couch.

Rafe followed you, sitting on the other end of the couch, though he shifted closer. His arm rested along the backrest, his entire posture relaxed in a way that only made you more aware of him.

“So,” he began, his tone lighter now, “what did you actually do today? Besides fighting with tablecloths and flowers, I mean.”

You groaned, leaning back into the cushions. “It feels like that’s all I did. The decorators kept bringing me options that were either too tacky or too plain. And don’t even get me started on the florists. Nina kept trying to keep me on schedule, Aisha rolled her eyes at every single arrangement, and I was stuck in the middle.”

His laugh was low and warm. “Sounds like a nightmare.”

“It was,” you said, though there was a faint smile tugging at your lips now. “But somehow, it’s all starting to come together. Slowly. Painfully. I think we’re making progress.”

He tilted his head, watching you with that quiet intensity he always seemed to have when you weren’t paying attention. “You really care about this party, huh?”

You hesitated, the weight of his gaze making it harder to brush off the question. “Yeah, I guess I do,” you admitted softly. “I mean, if we don’t make it believable then I’d have to go back to my country, and I can’t let that happen.”

Rafe was silent for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours. The soft light in the room cast shadows across his face, making him look more vulnerable, less guarded than usual.

“You’re putting so much thought into it,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “More than anyone else would, I think.”

You shrugged, your gaze dropping to your hands. “Just doing what needs to be done. Nothing special.”

“It is special,” he said, his tone firm but gentle.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. You glanced up at him, meeting his gaze for a moment that felt like it stretched on forever. There was something unspoken in his expression, something soft and unfamiliar that made your heart stutter.

“Okay, your turn,” you said quickly, needing to break the tension. “What did you do today, besides run yourself into the ground?”

His smirk returned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Practice, drills, meetings. The usual.”

“You make it sound so thrilling,” you teased, crossing your arms.

“Oh, it’s a blast,” he said with mock enthusiasm. “Nothing like running suicides and lifting until your arms feel like they’re gonna fall off. And then sitting in a room listening to people tell you how to market yourself better.”

“Sounds glamorous,” you said, leaning back into the couch with a small laugh.

Rafe chuckled, his gaze softening as he watched you. “It’s not. But then again, you make flower arrangements sound like boot camp, so I guess we’re even.”

You smiled, letting the comfortable quiet settle between you for a moment. The hum of the city outside was faint but constant, a reminder of how late it had gotten.

“I should really go,” you said, breaking the silence and sitting up.

Rafe’s hand reached out, brushing against yours as he spoke. “You don’t have to.”

The softness in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you stayed still, his fingers lingering near yours. The space between you suddenly felt smaller, charged with something neither of you were ready to name.

“Rafe,” you said gently, pulling your hand back, though your voice betrayed your hesitation.

“Stay a little longer,” he said, his eyes searching for yours. “This is… nice. Just sitting here. Talking.”

Your heart thudded in your chest at his words, and you looked away, pretending to straighten your bag. “I can’t. I’ve got another long day tomorrow, and so do you.”

He sighed but didn’t argue, leaning back into the couch. “Alright. But you owe me another five minutes next time.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you stood. “Sure, Cameron. I’ll pencil it into my busy schedule.”

He followed you to the door again, his presence warm and steady behind you. As you stepped into the hallway, you glanced back at him, your smile softer now.

As you moved toward the door, your bag slung over your shoulder, Rafe trailed behind you, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his sweatpants. The quiet between you was comfortable, a marked contrast to the constant noise of the day. Just as you reached for the handle, his voice broke the silence.

“So… my dad called today,” he said, his tone light but deliberate.

You paused, turning slightly to glance at him, curiosity flickering in your expression. “Oh? What about?”

Rafe leaned against the frame, his posture deceptively relaxed. “He wanted to ask about you.”

The corners of your mouth lifted in a faint smirk. “Me? Why? Should I be flattered or scared?”

He chuckled, though it came with a hint of exasperation. “Because you’re about to be my wife, and you should definitely be flattered. He’s been… curious, I guess. You’re kind of a hot topic at the moment.”

Your brow furrowed as you adjusted the strap of your bag. “What do you mean?”

Rafe shrugged, though his eyes flickered to yours briefly before looking away. “He’s been asking when he and Rose can meet you. Sarah’s been on my case about it too. She wants to meet you again. It’s like they’re more excited about this whole engagement thing than I am.”

There was an edge to his words, not quite bitterness but something close to it, and you stepped back from the door slightly, your curiosity deepening. “Is that… a bad thing?”

“No, it’s not bad,” he said quickly, though his jaw tightened ever so slightly. “It’s just… predictable. My dad’s all about appearances, and this engagement makes us look good. You make me look good.”

His words were meant to sound casual, but the weight beneath them was unmistakable. You softened your tone as you leaned against the couch. “Rafe, if you’re not comfortable with all this, you can tell me. I’m not going to—”

“It’s not that,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “It’s just… complicated.”

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “How so?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “My family has this way of… making everything feel like a performance. You know? Like, they’re not just happy about this engagement because it’s a good thing for me. They’re happy because it’s a good thing for them. My dad’s already talking about how it’ll ‘strengthen the Cameron name,’ and Rose keeps mentioning how much she ‘adores your poise.’”

You blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. “Wait, your step-mother said that? About me?”

He laughed lightly, nodding. “Yeah. I think she’s obsessed with you already.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “Wow. And here I thought winning over your dad would be the hard part.”

“Oh, don’t worry. He’ll grill you like a steak the second he gets a chance,” Rafe said, his tone teasing but his smile tinged with something softer. “He doesn’t trust anyone, especially not when it comes to me.”

You frowned at that, your arms crossing instinctively. “Why not? You’re… I mean, you’re his son. Shouldn’t he trust you the most?”

Rafe’s smile faltered for a split second before he masked it with another shrug. “Let’s just say my track record isn’t exactly spotless. And my dad… he’s always been more interested in results than reasons. This marriage? It’s a result he likes. That’s all.”

The raw honesty in his words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Finally, you stepped closer, your voice quieter now. “Rafe, if this is too much—if your family’s involvement is making it harder—I can talk to them. Set boundaries or whatever.”

He shook his head, his eyes meeting yours. “You don’t have to do that. It’s not your problem to fix.”

“Maybe not,” you said, your gaze unwavering, “but it’s my problem now too.”

“Such a good wife already,” he caressed your cheeks softly, the corner of his mouth twitched, his smirk returning faintly. “You’re really taking this whole ‘teamwork’ thing seriously, huh?”

“I’m a perfectionist,” you replied, matching his tone. “Can’t help it.”

He chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “You’re too good at this, you know. My family’s already halfway in love with you, and you haven’t even met them yet.”

“Maybe I should be worried,” you teased, though there was a softness in your voice now.

“Don’t be,” he said, his tone quieter as he let his hand down your face. “If anything, they’re the ones who should be worried. You’re gonna walk in there, charm everyone without even trying, and leave me to deal with their unrealistic expectations.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine, and Rafe found himself leaning just a little closer, caught up in the warmth of the moment.

“Well, if they’re anything like you,” you said, your voice still tinged with amusement, “I’m sure I’ll survive.”

Rafe’s smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by something softer, something you couldn’t quite name. “They’re nothing like me,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you moved. His gaze lingered on yours, steady and unguarded in a way that made your breath catch.

“Rafe…” you began, your voice trailing off as his expression shifted ever so slightly, something unreadable flickering across his face.

But just as quickly as the moment had come, it passed. He straightened, his usual smirk slipping back into place like a mask. “You should probably get some rest,” he said, his tone lighter now. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden shift, but nodded. “Yeah. You too.”

He followed you to the door, his presence steady behind you as you stepped into the hallway. As you turned back to glance at him one last time, his expression softened again, his blue eyes holding yours for a beat longer than necessary.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“Goodnight, Rafe,” you replied, your chest tightening slightly as you walked away, the weight of his gaze following you long after you’d gone.

chapter ten