#What is the first step in getting started with AWS?

[okaylikeschaewon]

Chapter 10: Choices

~6k words, male reader, smut

“I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?” Sakura yawned, rubbing her eyes.

“Kkura I’m fucking scared.”

She took one proper look at you and that was enough to let the drowsiness instantly fade from her face. The fact that it was the break of dawn and that she had just rolled out of bed a moment earlier seemingly no longer mattered. Shrugging her shoulders to protect herself from the cold, Sakura shut the door behind her and stepped out into the crisp morning air, pulling her robe tight around her body.

“What happened?” she asked softly, her beautiful, round eyes widened. Her expression was warm, despite the chilly morning air.

“What if she doesn’t take it well?” you asked, your breath catching in the cold and your teeth clattering.

“Let’s slow down for a second,” Sakura began shivering. “But first, can we go inside? It’s freezing out here.”

“Uh…”

“Oh, right,” Sakura frowned. “Car?”

“That works,” you agreed, turning around and leading Sakura towards where you parked.

Sakura got into the passenger seat as you turned on the car.

“Much better,” Sakura shivered, holding her hands up to the vents as you started blasting the heat. “Alright, now do you want to explain what you’re talking about?”

“I slept on it, like you said,” you began anxiously. “I can’t shake my head around… I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Sakura sighed, her eyes shimmering with compassion. Her gaze was soft and understanding, radiating a soothing energy that promised there would be no judgment on her end.

“You’re going to need to clarify who you’re talking about.”

“Sorry. It’s Zuha. I can’t get that girl out of my head. I swear ever since she confessed, I’ve felt something inside me that I just haven’t been able to shake.”

“Then I guess you have your answer.”

“Isn’t it fucked up though?” you raised your voice unintentionally, nearly shouting at the girl without even realizing it. “Sorry, I just mean like, for Chaewon, I feel awful. I still really love her, I think, but I think I also have feelings for Kazuha? I don’t know, nothing makes sense to me anymore, what am I supposed to do?”

“I’m not here to tell you what’s right and wrong,” Sakura replied calmly. “I love both of those girls with all of my heart.” 

“And I still have a lot of love for both of them.”

“But you can’t see both of them romantically,” Sakura smiled gently. “There’s no real nice way to put it, you have to pick one.”

“It just feels wrong,” you let out an exasperated sigh. “Why can’t I just have them both?”

“It’s one thing to sleep with both of them, but it’s another to have feelings for both,” Sakura chuckled. “Unfortunately, I don’t think it would be fair to either girl if you tried keeping both.”

It sucked to hear, even if for just a moment you tried to trick yourself into thinking it would be possible. “You’re right, I know, it just blows.”

“And I’m not telling you which one you should pick, that’s your decision,” Sakura continued. “Lucky you, by the way, in the grand scheme of things there are worse choices to be left with.”

“I know, I’m making my own life difficult.”

“I’m not saying it’s an easy choice.”

“But I have to make it.”

“Yeah, you do,” Sakura pursed her lips as her expression bled empathy. “They both really like you, more than you probably know.”

“That doesn’t make it easier.”

“My bad,” Sakura chuckled before her expression turned more serious. “If it makes you feel better, I know better than anyone that you’ll do right by Chaewon even if you decide to move onto Kazuha.”

Better than anyone. Something about that comment didn’t exactly sit right with you, and immediately you figured something was wrong.

“Sakura?” you gave her a look of confusion as you fixated on that one line.

“I’m fine,” her voice cracked as she quickly turned away from you to look out the passenger side window.

“I… are you…” your voice trailed off, and it was like there was a rock in your throat. All of a sudden you couldn’t speak, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You reached out for Sakura’s shoulder with your hand.

“I said I’m fine,” she repeated firmly, pulling her shoulder away from your touch, still staring out the window. “Just… give me a second, please.”

“Sure, let me know,” you leaned back slowly.

This couldn’t be much further from what you expected the conversation would be like. It all happened too fast, you were still trying to comprehend how it turned into this. You kept your gaze fixated on Sakura’s back, confused and worried about her, forgetting about your own dilemma for the moment.

She brought one of her hands up to her face, presumably wiping her eyes with the cuff of her robe, followed by a couple of silent sobs. Her body trembled just enough for you to notice, as if she was still outside in the cold, but the car was as warm as it could be. She let out one final sniffle, shrugging her shoulders as she took a deep breath and turned back to face you.

“Sorry about that,” she stated, her beautiful round eyes stained scarlet. “As I was saying-”

“Sakura,” you cut in, barely hearing your own voice over your thumping heart. “Are you okay?”

A shaky exhale escaped her lips as her brow furrowed. Her lip began to tremble, and her eyelids began blinking rapidly. She nodded, unable to find her voice.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Sakura laughed as a couple of tears flew down her face. “About how pathetic I am? How it takes one mention of our past to send me down a fucking rabbit hole all night?”

“What are you talking about? You’re not pathetic-”

“Aren’t I?” she shouted, her voice unstable and shaky, each syllable wavering and threatening collapse. “I bet you didn’t think about it at all after we stopped talking last night.”

“Of course I did,” you responded unconvincingly, fully aware that she knew you were lying.

“Yeah? Did you also spend all night looking at pictures? Pictures that I refused to delete? Even though I told myself I would?” Sakura snapped back. “That’s what I thought.”

It was tough to hear and you were admittedly at a loss for words, staring at Sakura as she was on the verge of fresh tears. It hurt so unbelievably bad to see her like this. You’ve known this girl for years and seeing her in this state was a rare occurrence, but it was so fucking difficult whenever it happened. You hated it. You hated every second of what was happening in this car.

“I’m fine,” Sakura choked, still struggling to get the words out. “Being reminded last night just really had me thinking about those days.”

“I’m sorry-”

“It took me a really long time to forgive you,” Sakura confessed, ignoring your apology. “Like, a really fucking long time.”

“I had no idea-”

“I once told Zuha I was going to murder you in your sleep.”

“Oh,” you raised your eyebrows. “Understandable, very reasonable.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Sakura scoffed. “What you did was… honestly it’s been long enough, I’m going to say it. What you did was fucked up.”

“Excuse me? We both agreed to end things when we ended them,” you finally found your voice and defended yourself. “How can you put all the blame on me like that?”

“You’re right, we both agreed,” Sakura retaliated with her voice full of rage. “I’m talking about the reason you gave and what you did right after.”

“You mean-”

“Yes you fucking asshole,” Sakura interjected. “Do you have any idea how much that hurt me? And it’s not like she knew a thing, I made sure to never tell her, because it wasn’t her fault, she didn’t deserve to have that in her mind.”

“I didn’t plan for things to happen the way they did, you know this. It just… things just happened the way they did, no one could have seen it coming.”

“I. Fucking. Know,” Sakura sighed with exasperation, frustratingly agreeing as if she knew she had no other option. “Of course I fucking know, I’m the one who basically…” she sighed deeper with heavy pent up frustration behind her before adding in a nearly-silent whisper. “But it still really hurt.”

“I’m really sorry Kkura, I-”

“Never thought about it? Had no idea? Why would you? You had a pretty girl obsessed with you while all I had was fucking nothing, nothing but the pleasure of watching you replace me in less than… however long it was. I don’t even give a fuck about that part, it’s just the reason you gave me.”

She was right, to a degree. It’s not that you hadn’t thought about it, but you clearly did not realize how much you put her through, or perhaps you were just too much of a dickhead to care. She deserved better, and it took you far too long to realize this, you hurt the girl who was there for you far more than you ever could have known.

“Kkura-”

“Alright, fine, maybe I did care about that part as well, maybe I felt like what we had wasn’t very special if you could replace me that quickly. I don’t know, but I could have overlooked it,” Sakura kept going, not letting you get a word in. “Really it’s probably my fault, I could have said no when you asked me that night, I could have just ignored your text, never set you up on that date.”

“That’s not fair at all, no one could have ever predicted that night to turn into what it did. Chaewon wasn’t even in the picture at that point. It wasn’t even supposed to be her, you know this, things just kinda fell into place after.���

“Obviously I do, I set it up,” Sakura snapped at you. “And we both know damn well how I don’t have it in me to ignore you like that, but I probably should have.”

“Sakura, I know I hurt you,” you began as you chose your next words carefully. “But you know my first date with Chaewon was before the announcement, right? I had no idea she was going to debut again, she didn’t tell me until way later.”

“Even if you knew, it wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but it still matters,” you replied softly. “The reason I gave you was genuine, and I don’t think I would have gone forward with Chaewon had I known about the group. You believe me, right?”

She paused for a moment to think about what you said. “Yeah, I do, and honestly I don’t really blame you, I know I don’t,” Sakura replied, her voice losing the anger and being replaced with a touch of dejection - one that stung much more than when she was yelling at you. “I get it, I saw the way you looked at her. It was clear as day you were madly in love with her, and you two were just so perfect together.”

“That must have made it even harder on you,” you muttered, your vision starting to blur. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Sakura replied bluntly. “How could I be upset? Chaewon was happier than I had ever seen her. I was happy for her. Of course I was. It’s not her fault.”

Words once again escaped your brain.

“As mad as I was, I was also secretly happy for you as well,” Sakura confessed with a smile stained with melancholy. “It may sound stupid, but even though we didn’t work out, deep down I still wanted to see you happy. Oh, who am I fucking kidding, it wasn’t that deep down. I wanted you to be happy, even when you hurt me. Pathetic as fuck, right?”

“And I also want to see you happy, does that make me pathetic too?” you replied, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. “I hope you know I really mean that, I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. And my reason wasn’t bullshit, I swear I really felt that way, I just wasn’t expecting that whole thing to unfold the way it did.”

“I know, I don’t think either of us expected it, I didn’t even know it was an option,” Sakura mumbled quietly under her breath. “I promise I never held it against Chaewon.”

“Just against me.”

“Only at the start,” Sakura laughed softly as the tears finally spilled. “You know how I said I know you’d do right by Chaewon? Yeah, as much as you hurt me, there’s a reason I didn’t actually murder you in your sleep.”

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know, but sometimes things happen,” Sakura smiled faintly, her eyes glistening as she fought the losing battle against the wave of emotion threatening to break through. “Seeing how happy you made Chaewon made it a lot easier for me to forgive you.”

Just like that, tears also began flowing down your face in a way you couldn’t control.

“That… wasn’t supposed to be…” Sakura stammered quickly.

“Sakura I’m so-” you choked up before finishing your thought.

“It’s okay,” Sakura whispered, leaning over and wrapping you up in her arms. “I promise it’s okay. I’m here with you.”

It took you a few moments - squeezing Sakura tenderly - before you were able to compose yourself again. You let go of her slowly and another wave of warmth shot through your body when you saw her face tear-soaked.

“It’s all behind us now,” Sakura said softly. “Just like I was able to forgive you, I’m confident Chaewon will, too.”

“Does that mean you think she’ll be mad at me?”

“No! I didn’t mean it like that,” Sakura quickly backtracked. “This situation is different.”

“Isn’t this one worse?” you asked nervously. “Fuck, Sakura I don’t know anymore, maybe this is all a mistake.”

“I don’t think you should doubt yourself, just listen to what your heart’s telling you. It’s also kinda too late to back out now, think about Zuha.”

“You really think so?”

“I don’t see a better option, but it’s definitely complicated,” Sakura replied nervously. “Just be thoughtful when it’s time to tell Chaewon, if you’re mean to her, maybe I will have to murder you in your sleep.”

“Then let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you half-smiled. “But let’s be honest, we both know I could never hurt that girl on purpose, ever.”

“You probably thought that about… actually let’s not go there again,” Sakura returned your smile half-heartedly. “I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

“I really hope you’re right.”

“Fingers crossed,” Sakura chuckled, wiping her face clean as she opened the door.

The two of you stepped into the brisk air once more. You walked around your car to Sakura who was waiting for you. Without speaking a single word, the two of you embraced in a tight hug, properly this time.

“Thank you,” you mumbled into her shoulder, the coldness of the morning being completely replaced by the warmth of Sakura’s hug.

“Good luck with everything, I’m always here for you if I can help with anything,” Sakura whispered back before letting go of you and shooting you a nervous glance. “When do you plan on talking to them?”

The talk with Sakura ended up creeping just a bit of doubt into your decision, but your mind was still set. You knew, as much as you didn’t want to do it, this conversation had to happen at some point soon because the longer you waited the worse it would become. With that in mind, you returned Sakura’s nervous expression with a look of determination.

“Right now.”

—

“Hey,” you whispered, peeking your head through the door to see if she was awake.

“Oh! I thought it was Kkura,” Kazuha blurted out as she looked up from her phone. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I came to see you, actually,” you answered while opening the door a bit more. “Mind if I come in?”

“Oh, uh, yeah of course,” she replied, sitting up in her bed and putting her phone aside. “Come, sit. What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

Kazuha raised an eyebrow at you as if you were an idiot. “I pieced together that much,” she giggled softly. “Did you not sleep well? Your eyes are a bit red.”

“Oh no that’s just-”

“You don’t have pinkeye do you?” Kazuha leaned back away from you. “I really don’t want to wear an eye patch, not during promos.”

“No, Zuha, it’s not pinkeye,” you smiled meekly.

“Okay good!” she giggled again, leaning back in and cuddling up next to you before quickly pulling away in fear. “Uh, sorry, that was… I probably shouldn’t do stuff like that right now with the whole… sorry…”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” you scooted closer to her as her face turned a shade light pink. “Forget everything else for a moment, because things are a bit complicated, but just listen to me. I like you, Zuha. A lot.”

“Oh,” Kazuha blushed even harder. “T-Thank you? I also like you, a lot.”

“I want to make you my girlfriend.”

“What?” Kazuha began blinking rapidly as if she couldn’t believe her ears. “But what about-”

“I told you, please just for a moment forget everything else, we’ll figure that stuff out,” you cut her off. “Just tell me, would you like that?”

Kazuha pondered your words. Unknown to you, her heart was beating harder than it ever has before. “I… I would…” she muttered before smiling brightly at you with her eyes twinkling. “Yes, I would.”

Just like that, you knew you made the correct choice. The way she looked at you, the way you felt right now, everything was perfect. You wanted nothing more in life than this girl sitting next to you, that precious smile and those pure eyes. Your insides were burning up in a warmth of comfort and love that you didn’t know you felt towards this girl, all of a sudden it just came rushing in. That gnawing sensation you’ve had inside you ever since her confession, it finally made sense.

Unfortunately, the feeling only lasted for a fleeting moment before reality came crashing in and Chaewon popped into your mind again.

“What’s wrong?” Kazuha looked concerned as she immediately noticed your shift. She pulled you into her arms, just like Sakura did earlier. “I guess we need to address the elephant in the room.”

“How am I supposed to tell her?” you whispered, pulling away from Kazuha slowly. “I want this, I really do, but I don’t want to hurt Chaewon.”

“And I don’t either,” Kazuha agreed as worry filled her expression. “Should we talk to her together?”

“You think that’s better? It’s a bit of a unique situation, I don’t really know what to do.”

“I don’t either,” Kazuha smiled softly. “You’d be my first relationship, remember?”

“I guess we’ll be traversing some uncharted territory together,” you smiled back at her before leaning in.

Without thinking, you kissed her. As soon as your lips touched, you froze, regretting and realizing this probably wasn’t the right time - but then you felt Kazuha kiss back. You let her take control as she ended up on top of you, her lips pressed softly against yours.

“Zuha,” you whispered into her mouth.

“You asked me to forget everything else, just for a moment,” she whispered back before kissing you again. “Can we really forget it all, please?”

“You mean?”

“Yes,” she gasped as she sat up and began taking off her shorts. “Can we?”

Your mind went a bit hazy as you thought back to the other night. The memories of how good Kazuha felt flooded into your brain.

“Fuck it,” you also began lowering your pants before you flipped Kazuha onto her back and spread her legs.

“Is this wrong?” she asked, looking up at you with her hair framing her face as if she was some sort of angel laying there beneath you.

“Probably,” you shrugged as you pulled her underwear to the side. “We could stop, we don’t have to do this right now.”

“No!” her voice cracked, immediately followed by an intense red glow of her cheeks. “I just mean… uh…”

“Don’t explain, I understand,” you smiled down at her as you lined yourself up. “Whatever happens in this room this morning, it’s between us and only us, let’s agree to put everything else on pause, alright?”

“I’d like that,” Kazuha nodded at you before spreading her legs a bit wider. “Go slow?”

“Let me know,” you whispered back as you pressed yourself forward carefully. You leaned in close, slipped your hands under Kazuha’s body, and pressed your mouth to her neck, kissing it softly as she flexed her body. “Try to relax, if you can.”

“It’s really fucking tight,” Kazuha whispered, arching her back.

“Should I stop?”

Kazuha hesitated, taking a couple deep breaths before speaking. “No, not yet, just… just slowly…”

“Okay,” you moved up a bit and began lifting Kazuha’s shirt up.

She helped you take it off, exposing her perky tits, letting a sweet moan escape her lips as you pressed your mouth to her chest.

“Oh that’s nice,” she whispered as you started moving your hips. “Good, but still really tight.”

“Hold on,” you moved your hips back and pulled out. “How about we slow down even more?”

Kazuha bit her lip. “I’m sorry, for some reason I’m more nervous this time.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled reassuringly while bringing your fingers between her legs. With delicate and deliberate movements, you tried your best to ease her nerves, slowly pressing where she was most sensitive. “We can take our time, or we can try again another time, it’s up to you.”

“How about a different position?” Kazuha suggested as she pressed her fingers down on top of yours and pressed them down a bit harder. “But this feels nice.”

“Yeah? Should we just keep doing this?” you asked before leaning into her again and kissing her collarbone.

“This feels really nice,” Kazuha moaned softly as she pressed her fingers even harder, guiding your hand around her pussy.

Your fingers began sliding easier as time passed. The gentle sound of wetness, accompanied by Kazuha’s eyes shutting and her features softening, put you into a state of ease. It was working, and you didn’t want to stop. You had her entire body relaxing, you could almost see each and every fiber of Kazuha’s toned muscles relax.

She began moaning in a musical-like tone, one that screamed class and innocence with just a touch of naughty. It fit her so well, that pretty - unbelievably pretty - face. Even as she scrunched up her expression, she just looked so fucking pretty. You could stare at her all day.

While this was going on, the pressure building up in your cock was becoming too much. You couldn’t help but start stroking yourself to the view, trying to relax your own body as Kazuha began squirming beneath your fingers. It took a lot of self control, you knew that you could finish in just moments if you let yourself go, but right now you were more concerned with how Kazuha felt.

“You’re so beautiful,” you muttered softly under your breath as Kazuha’s body began trembling. He moans crescendoed, that beautiful voice of hers piercing your ears, but despite the increase in pitch, she stayed quiet. Elegant, in a way, even as she started cumming on your fingers, the epitome of grace and tenderness.

“I want it,” Kazuha moaned, fluttering her eyes open as she let go of your hand.

“What were you thinking? You wanna try being on top again?”

“No,” Kazuha smiled before pulling you closer. “Just like this, I want to see you, to kiss you. Is that fine?”

“Absolutely,” you gasped as Kazuha spread her legs a bit wider for you and took hold of your cock. She gave you a couple of soft strokes before rubbing her thumb against your tip, pressing against the little glob of precum. “That sounds perfect.”

With your cock in hand, you slid forward between her legs, pressing your tip against her entrance.

“Come on,” Kazuha replied while spreading herself even more, showing off her flexibility. “I need this.”

“So do I,” you muttered as you eased your cock into her pussy.

This time was a million times better than last time. She was still perfectly tight, but her pussy accepted your cock beautifully. The warmth and snugness hugged your cock like a blanket, bringing you unmatched comfort and sensation. She had the most ideal pussy.

She was like a flower, her soft and delicate curves moist to your touch. There was this warmth, this allure, that kept you captivated. You were entranced by Kazuha’s body, so much so that you felt this irresistible urge of greediness within you.

As carefully as you could, you grabbed Kazuha’s neck from behind and began kissing her deeply. Once you started, you pressed your thumb against her clit, making little circles along her skin. Your tongue slipped past her lips, gently intertwining and mixing against hers, while you worked her entire body.

“You feel so good,” you whispered as you leaned away from the kiss.

“Give it to me,” Kazuha pleaded with her eyes wide. “Please.”

So you picked up the tempo, pushing your hips harder, pressing your cock deeper. You slowly broke down that layer of delicateness that you viewed Kazuha through - her expression was basically begging for it. The more you fucked Kazuha, the harder you went, and the better it felt.

At this point, your thrusts had lost almost all degrees of tenderness, and both your hands had found their way to Kazuha’s hips. She took it well, bracing herself as you pressed your fingers into her skin and slammed your cock against her pussy. She showed no signs of anything other than raw pleasure as she took your cock over and over.

If she felt good, you felt fucking amazing. You lightened the grip you had on her hips as you slowed down your thrusting. This wasn’t a moment you wanted to rush, but you could only slow down so much - your body wouldn’t let you stop completely, it was out of your control. Still, you made do, sliding your hands up Kazuha’s body and giving her tits a few little squeezes. Her body was fucking amazing.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that you were too close to hold back. Despite your best efforts, it was already too late, so you took hold of Kazuha’s hips once more, pushing down on Kazuha’s body and shoving your cock into her as hard and fast as you could. Kazuha’s moans filled your ears as she shut her eyes and arched her back beneath you.

She looked so fucking good right now, even as your vision was going blurry. You held on for just a bit longer, fighting back any fatigue as your cock throbbed harder than ever. Her warm pussy felt better than heaven in this moment, and with a couple of final thrusts and grunts, you began launching your cum deep inside her pussy.

“Zuha,” you grunted a final time as your body gave up, collapsing onto her.

The next few moments had you in a trance as you let your cock pulse inside Kazuha’s warmth as she wrapped her arms around your body, rubbing your back softly.

“You feel so good,” Kazuha whispered against your ear. “Oh fuck, you feel so damn good, cum for me, fill me up.”

Such gentle words when delivered through her voice, but she was driving you insane right now. You almost felt paralyzed inside her as your cock just kept on spilling cum again and again, the pulsing felt like it went forever. It took so much strength for you to finally, carefully ease yourself out of Kazuha’s body. Even lifting yourself up off her was a task.

“Fuck, that’s a lot,” you mumbled as you pulled out, leaving your cum spilling between Kazuha’s legs as you reached for some tissues. “One second.”

“Wow,” Kazuha muttered as she gently rubbed herself, spreading your cum around, playing with it between her fingers. “That was something.”

“Something good or something not good?” you asked as you sat back down on the bed next to her.

“Something amazing,” Kazuha smiled softly. “But also a bit inappropriate.”

“If it makes you feel better, Chaewon technically wanted me to do this,” you carefully wiped her inner thighs clean before tossing the tissues away. “Although it still feels a bit wrong.”

“Oh,” Kazuha turned her head away from you.

“Not you, that felt amazing,” you quickly pulled her into your arms for a hug before grabbing her by both shoulders and staring tenderly into her eyes. “Zuha, let there be no confusion, that was fucking perfect.”

“Right, sorry, I guess I’m still just a bit…” her voice tapered off as she looked up at you and gave you a weak smile.

“You’re. Perfect. And. Amazing,” you whispered, kissing her neck between each word. “It’s totally natural to be a bit-”

“Sensitive?” Kazuha finished your sentence. “Because I am, I’ll admit it.”

“And that’s completely okay. What I said was stupidly phrased. I’m sorry,” you wrapped an arm tightly around Kazuha’s shoulders, pulling her to sit next to you, and leaned against her head. “Things are just messy, but we'll figure it out. Together.”

“I hope so,” Kazuha sighed softly. Her hand began exploring your thigh, inching towards your shaft slowly until she gently caressed it with her fingertips. “I wish there was some sort of way that we could do this without all the mess.”

“Zuha, you know it doesn’t work like that.”

“I know,” her voice faded softly and she unwrapped your arm from her shoulder, leaning away from you and turning towards you. “Okay, this might sound stupid since you call me Zuha all the time, but I loved that. This time it felt… different?”

“I’m glad,” you smiled as a wave of warmth flooded your body. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly,” you kissed the top of her head. “But one thing - do not call me daddy.”

“Oh no I could never,” Kazuha agreed quickly, sounding completely put off just by the thought of it as she rested her head against your body again. “I guess we should probably talk about boundaries and stuff at some point.”

“We have a lot to talk about, but maybe we should wait until…”

“Until after you talk to Chaewon?”

“Yeah, I think,” you replied as your mind drifted into thought, trying to figure out how to go about things, gently stroking Kazuha’s hair. “Hey, I thought you said we should both talk to her together?”

“Well, I think you got it, I don’t know what I’d say.”

“I don’t even know what I’m going to say,” you sighed. “Zuha, do you think this might cause problems with the group dynamic?”

“Truthfully? At first, yeah, I did,” Kazuha answered quietly. “But then I got to thinking.”

There was a pause, a bit longer than you expected. Kazuha lifted and turned herself slightly so that she could look up at you.

“And?” you encouraged her to continue as the anticipation grew.

“Promise you’ll keep this between us?”

“I promise.”

“I’m serious, you can’t tell anyone.”

“Zuha, yes, I know. Not a soul.”

“Alright,” she bit her lip nervously. “I think there might have been a bit of… something… between Sakura and Chaewon at the very beginning.”

“Oh?” you waited for her to continue as you thought back to what Sakura told you in the car earlier.

“Look, I met them a bit after everyone else, but I could tell there was some sort of… resentment? I don’t exactly know, and maybe it was just because we were all getting to know each other.”

“Well, most of you were.”

“So you see what I’m saying?” Kazuha pursed her lips. “Chaewon and Sakura barely talked. I never understood it since they knew each other already, but then, seemingly overnight, the two of them became closer than ever. I don’t know if the others ever noticed it.”

“Chaewon never gave me details, but I sort of know around when this happened,” you explained. “She told me she spent a night with Sakura, and I didn’t really ask questions.”

“Right. Anyway, the reason I brought this up is because I really think no matter how the conversation with her goes, as a group we’ll get through things, we always do.”

Her words were reassuring at least, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit better. “Thank you, really.”

Then, you leaned in, but before you could kiss her, Kazuha lunged up towards you and pressed her lips against yours, catching you a bit by surprise. She kissed you aggressively until you fell onto your back with her on top of you. It felt like this kiss would go on forever, and maybe it would have if it weren’t for the knock on the door.

“I don’t know what’s going on in there, but I really need to get ready!” Sakura's voice came through the door.

---

A/N:

I posted a poll and based on the first day responses, Dating Seraphs was in the lead. Ask and you shall receive!

The Kazuha arc continues! Maybe? Probably? I guess next chapter will have more answers. The talk with Chaewon, the history with Sakura, sex with Kazuha, there's so much to cover in the next few chapters! Also, there's a cameo appearance coming soon that I can't imagine anyone will be able to guess because I don't know if I've ever talked about this idol, but we'll see how popular she is among my readers (ex-izone member). I'll give this chapter at least a few days to marinate before my next post.

Based on how things are going in my writing world and the initial responses to that poll, Dating Seraphs needs attention. My next post will probably either be Debauchery p2 or something in the roommates universe, followed by Dating Seraphs ch11, and then most likely I'll give Twice some love and post an update to that story. Of course, this is subject to change!

Feedback, requests, messages, comments, asks, whatever you feel like sending, feel free. I'm a bit more active these days with writing stuff, but just please be considerate if you're going to send something. I've gotten a few questionable DMs recently. Use common sense!

[formulaonecrumbs]

omg what if oscar got his deadpanned nature all from his older sister and those two as they get older are always sarcastic together towards everything

my little echo

Oscar Piastri x older sister!reader

summary: oscar piastri slowly turns into a smaller, sassier version of his older sister. simply because he thinks she’s the coolest person alive.

warnings: sibling sarcasm, chaotic household, oscar being your mini-me

A/N: i love this au so much, well i love all of the older sister au’s but baby oscs got a soft spot in my heart. thank u for the request anon!! enjoy, sweet angel 🫶

༻ ❤︎︎ ༺

you’d barely gotten three steps into the kitchen before chaos greeted you like a warm, screechy welcome mat.

edie was standing on a chair yelling about how mae stole her diary. mae was yelling back that she didn’t, that she was just looking. hattie was stirring a pot of something violently on the stove, earbuds in and completely oblivious to the screaming behind her.

you just blinked. took a deep breath. leaned against the fridge and stared blankly at the wall.

“sounds peaceful,” oscar said from beside you, mirroring your stance, hands in the pockets of his hoodie like he’d been doing this for years.

you glanced at him — twelve, gangly, hair sticking up at odd angles — and raised one eyebrow. “tranquil, really. zen.”

“serene,” he added, nodding solemnly.

edie’s voice went up an octave and mae hurled a cushion across the room. it missed everyone and hit the dog.

you sighed. “we’re being punished for something.”

“you think mum cursed us for eating the good biscuits?”

“only logical explanation.”

he stood there, shoulder to shoulder with you, arms crossed and expression perfectly blank. and it hit you — not for the first time — how much he’d started to act like you. the timing. the tone. the subtle sarcasm. like he’d watched you handle the chaos a hundred times and decided, yeah. that’s how i’ll do it too.

it was kind of adorable. and also mildly terrifying.

“you know you’re turning into me, right?” you said, half a smile pulling at your mouth.

he shrugged. “there are worse people.”

“aw,” you teased. “is that love i hear?”

“don’t ruin it.”

you tousled his hair. he didn’t fight you, just scowled and smoothed it back in a very you kind of way.

he even sighed like you.

“you’re like a little clone,” you said, grinning. “my echo.”

“your taller echo,” he muttered, smug.

“barely. and watch your attitude, or i’ll make you be the one to tell edie that mae drew hearts around her crush’s name.”

he blanched. “i’ll do the dishes instead.”

“wise choice.”

nicole passed through the doorway, gave you both a look. “if you’re standing there judging everything again, go take the bins out.”

you and oscar, in perfect, practiced unison:

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

“not at all.”

she rolled her eyes. “you’re raising a monster.”

“i’m raising a legend,” you said proudly, clapping a hand on oscar’s shoulder.

he stood a little taller.

and as the house swirled with noise and crashing and the smell of something mildly burning, the two of you remained side by side — still, dry, unfazed — a matching set.

THE END :>

[chrissv4mp]

♱ before your kisses turn into bruises, i'm a warning

warnings. smut, scissoring, fingering, nipple play, fluff, angst, and language.

synopsis. you have a run-in with a "shark" during a walk on the beach—turns out, it's just a runaway dog with terrible name timing. it's owner? a girl who you never intended to meet but is now stuck in your world.

words. 5.7k

letters. longest thing i've written in a while!!!! hope you all enjoy this, i enjoyed writing it cus it made think about my vacation to hawaii last winter 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

the sun's just starting to rise, stretching slowly over the water as you make your way down stone steps that are eventually swallowed by the sand. it's soft and a bit cool beneath your feet, a nice contrast from the warm condo sheets and god-awful pillow that felt like it was suffocating you. jetlag from your flight had you asleep the second you stepped into your designated room for the two week you'd be here.

your friends were still sound asleep in the condo, just as tired as you were. maybe even more tired, seeing as they were still out cold.

the waves are soft, controlled as you walk along the shoreline, sunglasses perched on top of your head even though there's hardly any light. just a bit of pink and purple across the sky. it's all peaceful. steady.

"shark!"

you swear you feel your heart skip a beat, stopping dead in your tracks as you hear the single word. you whip your head around quickly, swallowing nervously.

and there stands a girl—about your age—skipping the steps and practically throwing herself into the sand, dark hair catching the wind. she's got a muscle tee clinging to her body, a backwards cap threatening to fall off her head, and jean shorts that are definitely way too big for her. she's yelling like someone's getting murdered.

"shark! hey, c'mon, boy, get back here," she calls, voice less frantic now.

your brain short circuits. what?

you look around, trying to figure out if this is some type of joke. or maybe this is how locals handle emergencies. she's bolting right towards you, kicking up sand, looking completely unbothered by the actual shark she just screamed bloody murder about.

taking a step back, you raise an eyebrow. "hi, um... is everything—?"

then, barreling out of the dunes behind her, a dog comes sprinting toward the water. a pit bull. tongue out. tail wagging.

you stare. then look back at the girl.

she stops, glancing over at you for the first time, a lazy grin forming on her pink lips.

"that's shark," she says, like that explains everything. "my bad. he's always scaring the tourists away."

you blink, opening your mouth but then closing it.

all you can think to say is, "...who names their dog shark?"

her grin widens, "i do."

then she whistles, calls out for him again, and jogs past you like it's the most normal thing in the world, sand sticking to the back of her calves, cap crooked and hair messy.

you watch her run up the stairs, trying to process the whole thing and contemplating if it's a dream or not.

until a familiar voice cuts through the quiet, "who was that?"

your friend, mia, is at the stairs that billie just walked on a few seconds ago, arms crossed, oversized sleep shirt hanging off one shoulder. the morning breeze plays with the ends of her braids, and she squints at you like she's still just waking up.

you shrug, beginning to walk towards her, "nothing. just some girl yelling about a shark."

she scoffs, "...that's not nothing?"

"well, the shark was a dog," you say, earning a chuckle from your friend, "and they scared the shit out of me."

your friend gives you a suspicious look, but she doesn't push. instead, she just mutters something about how you always attract the weird ones as she turns on her heel and starts walking back to the condo.

the rest of the morning seems to pass by slow after you and mia sneak back into your rooms and pretend to wake up again a few hours later. you're the first one out of bed, dragging your feet as you walk into the kitchen and sit at the rather large marble island.

a door down the hall you just came from opens just before you can do anything else, and here comes ivie. she's only wearing one sock, her hair is everywhere, and she's smiling sleepily as she walks into the kitchen and drops onto the stool next to you.

"sleep good?" you ask, an amused smile on your lips as you turn to her.

her reaction is delayed, which is all you need to know in order to put the pieces together that she, in fact, had a terrible night's rest.

a soft groan escapes her puffy lips as she leans forward into your chest, "the pillows were the worst. kept feelin' like they were trying to suffocate me in my sleep."

glad you weren't the only one who thought that.

"you too?" both of your heads turn to the staircase, watching as paige came down the stairs rubbing her eyes and yawning.

mia is a few steps behind her, sending you a small smile that you return as she goes to open the fridge, asking if anybody was hungry for breakfast. you all agree on eggs and toast, and ivie runs off to her room to grab a speaker from her bag.

she sets up her phone and hits shuffle on the playlist you four shared, and pink + white by frank ocean starts playing through the speakers loud enough to get a noise complaint.

the morning is calm, comfortable. just like the ones you imagined you and your friends would share on this little summer getaway. paige singing awfully in the shower. mia complaining about how her sunscreen won't rub in all the way. ivie throwing all of her clothes around in her room to find the perfect outfit.

when everyone's finally put together, you suggest a smoothie run, which turns into a whole afternoon trip into town.

the streets are warm and quiet, full of surf shops and flirty guys with sunburns. you've got on new sunglasses and your smallest pair of shorts, your friends muttering about stickers and overpriced tote bags.

when someone catches your eye.

it's that girl from the beach. same muscle tee, same backwards cap. now she's standing at a cart with a bright yellow umbrella above it, arguing with some ice cream. shark is sitting beside her, panting happily.

you pause for a second, actually stopping in front of ivie and paige, causing them to bump into you.

but she looks up—and there's no doubt she doesn't see you.

her lips quirk up into a half-smile. lazy. a bit smug.

she nods over at you, silently letting you know she sees you. but your friends have already started teasing you so much you don't even notice.

mia laughs, eyeing the girl, "is that the shark girl?"

you roll your eyes, starting to walk again and straight up ignoring the question even as your cheeks heat up and your palms start sweating. she was just some girl you had a small interaction with, you weren't gonna fall for her, let alone have any interest in her.

still, your heart beat speeds up just a little.

paige is already rambling on about some girl she saw at the smoothie shop, unknowingly saving your ass from the embarrassment and teasing of ivie and mia. her story lasts the entire walk back to the condo, and you silently thank her for being able to fall in love with any and everyone she sees.

the sun's started to go down, casting golden light onto the sidewalks. you're carrying a few shopping bags, still half-full on smoothies and sunburned in the one spot you swore you covered before leaving.

"okay, don't get mad at me for this," paige adds after a moment of silence, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. "but while i was talking with that girl, we snuck off..."

you raise a brow. "...and?"

she grins. "she invited us to a party. it's tonight. rooftop access, a few blocks down, music, hot guys and girls, free drinks if they like you."

you sigh softly, looking around at the group as you all approach the house. as you unlock the front door and walk in, you hear a chorus of yeses and excited scrambling behind you.

and you?

you're not about to pass this up. especially when you're on vacation. and also because billie might be there.

so, you agree.

the party's already in full swing when you get there—balcony lights strung up like constellations, music thumping through the wooden floor, and that salty, warm air enveloping everyone like some oddly comforting blanket.

ivie and paige are already making their way through the crowd not even 5 minutes after getting through the door, and mia politely excuses herself to go find the restroom.

so, you slowly make your way through the crowd to find the kitchen. after pouring yourself a drink, you tuck yourself into some corner in the living room, watching the mess unfold. you're already regretting coming here, eyes moving all around the place.

and then something pulls your attention.

the girl. again.

you swear the universe was trying to tell you something, or maybe she was literally stalking you and the perfect little idea you made up of her in your head wasn't true at all. you hope it's the first option because the way she's looking at you from across the room is making your stomach flutter.

she's in a jersey and some jeans now. her hair's a little messier than the last time you saw her, wild from the wind. but her hat's facing forward this time, casting a dark shadow over her eyes. it shouldn't make her hotter. but it does. stupidly so.

and, as always, she sees you too.

it's subtle at first, the little game you two are playing. the flick of her eyes in your direction. the way you look away as soon as you catch her gaze.

eye tag.

she's sneaking through the crowd like she belongs there, eyes trained to you like a predator. but you don't feel intimidated or scared. just drawn to her. yet you didn't even know her name.

you lose her after a minute, someone walking in front of you just as she's about to come close, but then she's gone. your brows furrow in confusion. there's no way. was that imaginary? is she imaginary?

"keep staring and i might have to call someone on you," her voice startles you for just a moment until you realize it's her.

turning your head, you're met with ocean blue eyes and the lazy smirk you'd grown accustomed to. a smirk of your own tugs at the corners of your mouth, "sorry, sorry."

she huffs a laugh, looking down, stuffing her hands in her pockets, and leaning against the wall you're up against. her eyes meet yours again, soft, comforting.

"i don't mind," she says quietly, just above the music. "i think i like the attention. especially from pretty girls like you."

you nod your head slowly, "wow, flirting already and i don't even have a name yet."

"i'm billie," she adds, like she hasn't owned half of your thoughts since sunrise.

you hum, trying to play it cool as you exchange your own name. "guess i can stop calling you 'shark girl' now, huh?"

billie laughs, biting her lip and taking a step closer, "'shark girl' is cool too," she shrugs, voice lower now, lazy. dangerous in the best possible way.

her eyes burn into yours, making you glance away just to catch your breath. there was something about her energy. the way she moved, spoke, existed. it was so unlike everything back at home.

she was just... different.

"do you always hit on tourists at parties like these?" you joke, trying to give yourself a break.

but billie's already shooting back, nodding down, "only one's that wear skirts that short."

"you're impossible."

"and yet... here you are. still talking to me."

you bite your lip, finally gaining the courage to look her in the eyes again. bad idea. the way she simply stares at you just makes your heart start beating 10x faster than normal, your breath catching again.

she notices this time, you're sure of it. but she doesn't say anything, just observes you, waits for your next words, your next move, like she's trying to predict what you'll do.

"got me there," you murmur softly.

the whole reason you came here was to make memories, to make the best of this short vacation. and here you were, talking to some girl you met just this morning and already falling in love. some girl that you'll have to leave in a few days.

it doesn't hit you that you only have one week here when billie's staring at you like that, lower lip tucked between her perfect teeth, eyelids droopy, and full of interest.

but then someone runs up to you, grabbing your arm and shaking it wildly, "okay, okay, okay—hey, come with me!"

fucking paige.

she's tugging you away from billie before you can even make an effort to protest, "don't ask questions, just come with me, 'kay?"

you glance at billie as you're being dragged away, only to find her following you with slow steps that somehow keep up with paige's fast strides.

"am i about to get sacrificed, or...?"

"only if you're lucky," she giggles. "come on!"

you mutter some curse under your breath but follow her anyway, heart still thumping from billie's words. speaking of billie, she's still following right behind you two, smirk growing wider like she already knows what's about to happen. the three of you make your way down a narrow staircase, past drunk couples, and empty plastic cups until you reach a basement that looks like someone's personal man cave—but much cleaner.

there's a circle of people formed on the floor, an empty bottle in the middle of it.

"spin the bottle? seriously?" you deadpan, feeling paige's hand slip from yours.

she nods, practically bouncing. "they said only cool people, so obviously i told 'em we were coming."

you shoot her a glare, but she's already scurrying over to the girl you assume invited her. billie's not far behind her—sitting in an empty gap of the circle like it was routine. like she's still not invading your every thought. so, with a defeated sigh, you go and sit next to paige and her little girlfriend, across the circle from billie.

a few spins go by. strangers kissing strangers. obnoxious laughter. half-hearted cheers. you're nearly asleep from how boring it's getting. and billie can tell, her eyes raking over you and examining your facial features and body language, the way you rested your chin in the palm of your hand. she bites her lip, smiling like she's planning something.

and then it's your turn. you're on the verge of dozing off when paige nudges you harshly, muttering something about billie that you don't quite hear.

you lean over, spinning the bottle and then sitting back down calmly like you're not trying to calculate who it'll land on.

it slows after a few seconds, stuttering.

then, it stops.

billie.

you hold your breath as you look up at her, watching as the smirk on her face grows into a full smile, showing off her pretty teeth.

she just chuckles, laughing louder when paige hollers, "finally!" like she was waiting for this very moment to happen.

billie just sits there, so, you move first. she's biting her lip again, keeping eye contact with you and letting herself relax like it's normal to be kissing someone in front of nearly 15 people.

and when your lips touch—it's anything but normal.

she kisses you like she's trying to prove a point. one of her large hands grips your hip, the other sliding up your side like she owns your body. you gasp into her mouth, fingers curling at the collar of her jersey.

someone groans. another mutters, "holy shit."

neither of you can hear, though.

your free hand tangles in her hair, knocking her hat off her head accidentally, and billie just groans softly against your lips, pulling you onto her lap like nobody else is watching. like she didn't just meet you this morning.

when you finally pull back, your lips feel swollen and your pulse is wild. you don't even attempt to look around, but you can feel the silence.

billie's breathless, her grip on your body tightening like she doesn't want you to go. but, when paige buts in again, she decides it's better to continue this later.

you head back to your spot next to paige, eyes still glued to billie. you're both still catching your breaths, and she's trying to maintain any sense of self control she still has left before she pounces on you in front of everyone.

it's the next girls turn, a curly brunette wearing a cherry red top. you can hear the whispers already starting to surface, hearing the name "riley" amongst everyone hoping the bottle lands on them.

"just a heads up," she announces whole crawling over to the bottle, "i don't do half-assed kisses."

you already don't like her.

then she spins the bottle, dragging her fingers across it as if she's trying to make it land on a certain someone. it twirls, stuttering a few times, and you can already feel it in your chest before it even stops.

it lands on billie.

again.

riley grins. "rules are rules."

billie rolls her eyes playfully, beckoning her over with a curl of her fingers.

she's on billie's lap in less than 2 seconds, their mouths connecting instantly. and it's a lot.

hands in hair, mouths open, and billie's practically licking the inside of riley's mouth, and someone's literally filming it. your jaw tightens. because it's hot, sure. but it's not you. and that just makes the situation worse.

you still watch, pretending not to care. pretending like your nails aren't digging into the carpet.

but the kiss doesn't look the same. nobody's gasping or gawking over it like when you kissed billie. there's no tension in the air, no fingers digging into hips, no slow pull-away like she wants more.

it's just for show.

paige's girlfriend breaks the silence, "okay, okay, damn. game's over. we're not filming a porno in the basement."

there're a mixture of laughter and disappointed groans. people start getting up. paige is just about to grab your hand, but you're already on your feet. already heading upstairs.

you set your cup down on the counter when you reach the kitchen again, pouring yourself another drink to try and get rid of the jealously burning beneath your skin. try to ignore the way your heart's beating in your ears.

"you jealous?" billie's teasing voice erupts from behind you, a small laugh escaping her throat.

you don't turn around to face her. just sip from your drink slowly. "why do you think that?"

she steps closer, crossing her arms over her chest. "because i could feel your eyes burning holes into riley and i when we were kissing."

that's when you turn around.

she's closer than you thought—hat in her hand, hair a little wild from the kisses and the heat. her eyes drink you in like she hasn't already had a taste. like she wants more.

"you think i kiss everyone like i kissed you?" she asks, voice low.

"i think you could."

billie hums. "but i don't."

you hate the way that makes your cheeks heat up.

she reaches out, putting hat back on, and brushing your fingers where they're clenched around your cup. "you mad at me?"

you shake your head. but it's too quick.

"liar," she says softer, stepping closer. "i can tell. your expression is tense. and you're looking at me like you wanna kill me."

billie grabs your waist before you can say something smart, pulling you in like it's nothing. like you belong this close to her.

she just stares into your eyes, grabbing the cup from your hand sneakily and setting it down on the counter next to you. it's darker now. the only light source being the under-cabinet lights. upstairs, you can hear the music and the energy. it's pulsing through the ceiling. bass and bodies and someone screaming along to whatever's playing.

but down here, it's quiet.

just you.

and her.

you can smell hints of salt and something citrusy clinging to her jersey. her eyes are locked on yours, slowly drifting to your lips as if she's trying to figure something out. as if she wants to lean in closer and kiss you again.

and you want her to. you really, really want her lips back on yours. but the longer you look into her ocean blue eyes, the more you realize that your time together is limited.

a huff passes through your lips, a defeated one.

"look, you can kiss whoever you want. it's not like i'm gonna be here any longer, anyway," you say, trying to shrug off the feeling like the words don't sting. "only a week. and i'm not exactly planning a long distance... whatever this is, with some girl i literally met today."

she pulls you closer. "so don't plan."

you chuckle. "oh, cause it's so easy, huh?"

"it is, actually."

you roll your eyes, but your voice has an edge to it. "what's the point if we have limited time? why should i bother creating a bond with you if we don't even live in the same place? you don't even know me."

she leans in, breath shallow like she's getting mad.

"so what, you think i'm just some girl you can kiss and forget about?" she scoffs, voice low. like she's challenging you to say something smart.

you don't say anything. and that's all she needs.

her lips are on yours in an instant, and this time, it's not gentle. it's messy. urgent. no audience. no background talk. just tongues and teeth and hunger, like she's been waiting all night to finally get her hands on you. her fingers slide beneath the hem of your top, gripping your waist tighter.

you should pull away, but the way she's holding you so securely, so tight, it makes you wanna melt into her. the way her grip never lets up practically forces the argument out of your head and turns it into something hotter. your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you really forget about everything else—your anger, your stress, the fact that this might be the worst idea of your life.

when she pulls away, her forehead rests against yours. her breath's ragged, and yours isn't any better.

"you're right," she murmurs. "we don't have much time. so let's make it count, yeah?"

you're silent at first, still trying to catch your breath as you search her eyes for something. but then you nod, and billie wastes no time in dragging you down a dark, narrow hallway, hand gripping yours like you'll leave if she lets go.

you let her take the lead, your heart pounding in your head louder than the music upstairs. her shoulders are tense. and so are yours. everything's moving so fast, but somehow not fast enough for your liking.

she pushes open a random door at the end of the hall without knocking, kicking it shut when you're both inside. it's someone's room, or a guest room, you don't know. the bed's made, but the blinds are broken, and there's a jacket tossed over the desk chair. the air's somehow warmer in here.

you can barely register anything else before billie's lips are on yours again, hands on your face. you kiss her like you're still mad. like you need to get something through to her that is beyond words.

her hands find your waist again, fingers tugging at the hem of your top and tugging it up your body. you put your arms up, pulling it over your head and throwing it on the floor. her fingers are back on you immediately, pulling you close until your hips collide. she leans back in, teeth catching your lower lip and making you gasp.

pushing her forward by her chest, you watch as the backs of her knees hit the bed, then she's forced into sitting. you push her back, causing her back to hit the mattress. she's grinning stupidly at you, hat still on—but now it's crooked.

you crawl over her, hands placed on either side of her head.

"you don't even know me," you whisper, echoing your words from earlier.

she's breathless. "then let me learn."

with that, you kiss her again. it's slower, deeper. like you wanna memorize the pillowy feeling of her lips. her fingers slide under the waistband of your skirt, nails grazing your skin, and it's all too much. too much and not enough.

her hat finally falls off when you run your fingers through her hair, and you smile against her lips when you feel one of her hands leave your skirt and then hear the soft thud of it falling to the floor. then she flips you over so that you're beneath her now, one hand beside your head, the other trailing down your body.

the tips of her fingers run along your bare stomach, leaving a trail of fire. she's still devouring your lips, gripping the sheets beside your head like she's trying to control herself.

her lips trail down your jaw, your throat, and then she kisses your collarbone roughly. like she's been thinking about it since you kissed her in the basement.

and maybe she has.

voice muffled against your skin, she asks, "how long do we have left again?"

"a week," you breathe, eyes half-lidded, voice shaky.

she stops when she reaches your bra, looking up into your eyes, "better not waste another second, then."

and she sticks to those words, her hand reaching behind your back. you arch into her, letting your head fall back against the pillows as you feel billie undo the clasp of your bra. then she's slipping the straps off your shoulders, throwing it to the floor and latching her lips onto your nipple gently.

you moan quietly, fingers tangling in her hair when she rolls your other nipple between her thumb and index fingers. she's sucking gently, humming quietly against your skin before releasing your nipple with a pop.

her kisses trail lower, slow and deliberate, breath ghosting over your skin and making you twitch under her. you grip her hair tighter, knuckles bleeding white, biting down on your lip to stifle the whimper building in your throat.

the room is thick with heat, but there's still that flicker of jealousy and uncertainty in the air. it crackles between the space where your eyes meet, even as her lips brush against the waistband of your skirt.

"you're still jealous," she mumbles, fingers tugging your skirt down your ankles and then discarding of it on the floor. "i can tell."

you nod reluctantly, eyes fluttering closed as you feel her fingers running up your inner thighs, feather-light and maddening.

she kisses your inner thigh, then your clit over your panties. a soft gasp escapes between your lips, earning a quiet chuckle from the girl between your legs.

"stop teasing," you swallow hard.

her eyes flick back up to you, smirking just like always. "i'm not teasing."

and she's right. she isn't teasing.

she's taking her time—too much time—touching you like she wants to remember what your body feels like before you're gone. kissing you like she wants to burn the taste of your chapstick into her memory.

you raise your hips, tugging at her hair.

"please, don't make think anymore tonight."

billie pauses, breath still, cheek resting against your inner thigh. then, barely audible, she whispers, "okay."

and she gives you what you ask for—not holding back as she takes the waistband of your panties between her teeth and tugs them down your thighs until they're bunched around you ankles, letting them fall onto the floor.

as she's on her feet, she pulls her jersey over her head, unclasping her own bra, then unbuckling her belt. her jeans hit the floor with a soft thud, and you can barely make out the little sliver of a tanline on her hips when her underwear drops.

the room is so dark that you can hardly see anything—just the soft curve of her body in shadows, the swell of her breasts, and the tension in her shoulders as she leans over you again.

her lips part to ask a question, but then she shuts them, remembering your words from earlier. you didn't want to think. you didn't know what you wanted, exactly, but you knew you wanted her.

"i don't wanna forget this," you gasp as you feel her fingers swipe through your folds. you didn't mean to say it out loud.

but you did.

and billie stops for a moment, eyes flicking back up and finding yours, even in the dark. her lips quirk up into a small smile, lowering her head into the crook of your neck and pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses all over.

"then don't," she whispers, so quiet you almost don't hear, "don't forget me. please."

you nod, hands snaking around her body and resting on her back. you whimper when her thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow but tight circles on the little nub as she kisses and nips at your soft neck.

she slots her legs around yours, fingers leaving your cunt and finding their way to her lips as she lowers her pussy onto yours. your eyes can't seem to pull away from the sight of her pretty digits slipping between her lips and sucking your arousal off of them.

her hips shift, eliciting a low moan from the both of you. you're already shaking. maybe from nerves. maybe from how good it feels.

or maybe because it hurts, knowing that this may be the last time you'll see each other.

"fuck," billie whines, hands moving to your hips as her head falls back in pleasure. her pace is slowly increasing, getting needier and faster with each thrust of her hips.

the squelching sound only makes it hotter, knowing that the both of you are equally wet. it distracts you both from everything.

you're not sure when her name starts spilling from your mouth like a prayer or when your nails start digging into her hips to pull her closer against you.

she's everywhere on your body—hands moving around the expanse of your skin, lips brushing against yours so rough yet so lovingly. curses fall from her mouth every now and then, breath ragged and sharp, muttering, "god, you're unreal."

her eyes drift down to where you're connected, and now she's not sure if she can take her eyes from the sight of her dripping cunt grinding against your own. she can't help but whimper when her clit bumps against yours.

your own eyes are fixated on billie's face. the moonlight shining through the broken blinds illuminates her face just right, giving you the perfect view of her faded freckles and pouty, pink lips. you're not sure you'll be able to forget the furrow of her brows after tonight, the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips in concentration. her hair is falling over her shoulder, framing her face beautifully and bouncing subtly each time she moves her hips. your thoughts were starting to get cloudy, the only clear visions happening to be billie and that stupid smug smirk of hers. the one that you were starting to like a little too much.

"you're so beautiful," you manage to whisper between moans.

billie's eyes snap up to yours the second she hears your broken moan. she bites her lip hard, making herself flinch and whine at the slight pain.

her hips grind harder against you, fingers digging into your waist and causing you to arch into her. the angle makes the pleasure 10 times better, the bed creaking quietly beneath you two.

"m'gonna cum," she warns, voice a higher pitch than before.

her breath picks up quickly, coming out in shallow, short huffs as the knot in her stomach snaps. the sticky, warm feeling of her cum seeping onto your cunt is enough to make you cum with a loud, throaty moan.

your hips gradually slow down once your body starts to feel spent, heart still beating rapidly but starting to go back to normal. billie rolls off of you, sliding under the covers and helping you under.

the room goes quiet, save for the mixed sounds of your heavy breaths and sighs and the hum of music still bumping loudly upstairs. you roll onto your side, draping your leg over her waist and pulling the covers up more.

her fingers trail up your side and around to your spine, dancing along the expanse of your back as she stares into your eyes. she's warm—so warm and comforting.

you're not saying much of anything now. maybe it's because you're both spent, or it's because you don't need to say anything.

you lean forward, nuzzling your head against her chest, skin still damp with a thin layer of sweat, but you're already too comfortable to care. her arm wraps around your body, pulling you flush against her body, your curves slotting against hers so satisfyingly.

"hey," she says suddenly, voice hoarse. "d'you think crabs know they're sideways?"

exhaling tiredly, you tilt your head up to look at her. "billie."

she laughs at your half-annoyed half-amused expression, fingers drawing shapes along your skin as she continues with the dumb topic, "no, seriously. what if they think we're the weird ones?"

you shift on top of her, deciding to just shut your eyes and listen to her. "we just fucked and you're talking about crabs."

"you'd be surprised what my brain can do post-orgasm," she whispers, voice all smug like she's proud of herself.

billie goes quiet after that, her free hand coming up and running her fingers through your hair. you relax against her completely when you really start to pay attention to the soft beating of her heart, the sound lulling you into sleep.

her fingers never stop tracing patterns on your skin or combing through your hair, touch so soft and careful. she can hear the crashing of waves against the shore even through the glass.

your breath is even now, lips slightly parted, fingers twitching against billie's waist.

she watches you for a moment. then she swallows nervously, the corners of her lips curling with the need to say something. something stupid. stupid but true.

"you're gonna ruin me," she whispers, chuckling quietly.

tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @karaeilishh @mybluebossanova @strwberrybils @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @natbelovasblog @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @fawninlove @meliciousmel13 @jul3esz @rightarion @svelish @hkkuugu @eeuni @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize

[sillymusings]

summary: Spencer and you haven't been dating for long, but you decide you're ready to take the next step together.

word count: 2241 words

a/n: My first fic on here so I hope you like it!!

Spencer had always known that the world could be a dark place. He had never quite been naive, but years as a profiler in the FBI had shown him just how evil mankind could be. It was something of a domino effect. Cause and effect, or often cause and consequence, suggested that everything connected. As a profiler and a "perceived" genius —he still had his doubts about whether intelligence could be accurately quantified—it was in his nature and training to notice these connections. 

Years in the field had shown him how easy one could be consumed by the weight of it all. It was a constant exercise, he had realized, to not become jaded and hold onto hope. He'd had introspective conversations with his teammates before about the hollowness he felt after cases sometimes and all their advice had circled back to one key idea: find things you love and hold onto them like crazy. And Spencer realized that for all the pain, and the evil, and the hate, there were just as many things that he loved. He loved learning and teaching. He loved magic and ghost stories. He loved making a difference. He loved the team and he loved his mom. And he loved you.

You had only joined the team a year prior, but the closeness that had developed between you and them felt like you had known each other for decades. Spencer was the person you had grown close to the quickest. One month into working at the BAU, you were already trading book recommendations and tagging along with him to foreign film festivals where he would give an added bonus of simultaneous whisper translations for the movies without subtitles. You'd had a crush on him immediately, of course. How could you not? Spencer was kind and tender. He was so incredibly knowledgeable, but he wasn't a know-it-all. He didn't display his knowledge as an act of superiority but rather as a form of sharing. His rants made you inexplicably happy because it was like he was giving you leeway into seeing what fascinated him and why. The more he said, the more you understood him, and the more you liked him.

Almost like winning the lottery, he liked you back. You started dating two months into your time at the BAU. He asked you out with a magic trick because he knew how much you loved it when he performed them. He eventually revealed that he had spent weeks stressing about how to do it and it wasn't until Derek suggested using something that made him "feel like an expert" that he had gotten the idea. Eight months later, you were going strong, seeking any opportunity to escape into romantic bliss. There was never a boring day spent between the two of you. You went to movies and conventions. You read books together. Between cases, you played Chess and Go on the jet (he usually won, but you were getting better) and you took lots and lots of naps. Your lockscreen was a photo that Derek had taken of the two of you napping. Spencer had his arm around you as your head rested on his shoulder, the two of you fast asleep. 

Then there were the days like this. Another case had wrapped up in Vegas and you'd been on a journey to cheer Spencer up because you knew that cases in his home state were always a little bit tougher on him. You'd insisted that the two of you request an extra day and Spencer had shown you all the nooks and crannies he hung out in throughout adolescence. You noticed that those spots were a bit more isolated, away from the places that he pointed out his classmates had frequented. Spencer had told you the awful stories of what it was like to be in high school as a 12-year-old genius and let's just say that you hoped—for their sake—that you would never run into any of those people. You hadn't exactly been "miss popular" in high school either, so you knew that it wasn't super accommodating to those that deviated from the status quo. 

Afterward, you went to see his mom for the first time. You talked for a couple of hours and to Spencer's chagrin, she told you the things that he had said about you in his letters to her. She's intelligent, and witty, and beautiful, mom. And when I'm with her I don't get nervous that she'll think I'm too much or too little, but I get the sense that she thinks I'm exactly enough. She's exactly enough for me, anyway. Spencer's cheeks had turned bright red and the look of appreciation on your face and your adoring teasing had done nothing to hide the overwhelming love that you had for this man, not that you wanted it to. When Spencer stepped out to use the restroom, Diana took your hands.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For loving him. For reminding him that it's okay to want and need love. For reminding him that he deserves to be happy. This life is short, this world is so dark, and love is the only thing that makes any of it worth it."

It was early in the evening when the two of you finally left, wandering into a nearby park. You sat on the worn wooden bench with your sides pressed together and your hands intertwined. Your mind was racing. Maybe it was because his mother's words kept playing in your head even after you said your goodbyes. Maybe it was the remnants of the last case you’d been on, which, outside of the sour taste it had left in your mouths, had carried along the promise that tomorrow wasn’t given. Or maybe it was a combination of all of it. 

Your hands cradled his face, hearts full and lips flushed from the kiss you’d just shared. 

“What is it?” Spencer asked, softly. He knew that inquisitive look of yours, the furrow of your eyebrows that was the physical manifestion of the gears shifting in your brain.

It was normal for what was on the other side of that to take him by surprise. Sometimes it was fun facts you had learned and wanted to share with him because you were on a mission to find something that he didn’t already know, a silly challenge between the two of you. Other times, it was something more outrageous. Would he love you if you were a worm, or a spider, or a bird? 

At first, he struggled not to focus on the unrealistic nature of the questions, but over time he mastered the art of conversations with you. If you were a worm, he would make you a beautiful garden that you could live in. If you were a spider, he would never get rid of your web (to which you had scrunched up your nose in disgust). If you were a bird, he would build you a bird house. You giggled each time, flattered by the answers he gave and grateful that he loved you enough to be silly with you. 

And your laugh, gosh it made him feel like he was ten feet tall. How lucky he was to be loved by a woman like you. One that was so kind, so intelligent, so captivating. The questions were ridiculous but he loved them because he loved you. Yet, nothing had ever surprised him as much as the words that came out of your mouth next.

“Will you marry me?”

“What?” His eyes, big and brown, searched yours for some sort of sign that you were pulling a prank on him. You had been known to pull a practical joke or twenty. You were a fun girl, really. But this wasn't one of your pranks. In fact, you had quite possibly never been this serious or sure of anything in your life. 

“I know that it seems sudden, and maybe it is in a way, but who’s to say that’s not the point? To act on your love when you have it? I don’t want another gruesome case or a tragedy or even aliens to descend on earth when I am not your wife.” You knew that Spencer could probably give you some statistic about how marriages that happened too soon were more likely to end in divorce, but statistics couldn't account for the way your heart raced when he looked at you like you were everything that was good and beautiful in this world. And you knew that when looked at you like that, with the same eyes that had seen horror after horror and the ways that this world could be twisty, he meant it. 

You could be very forward. You knew that. It had gotten you into trouble a time or two, branding you as being “difficult” or “intimidating”, but you had always believed it to be one of the things that Spencer loved most about you. You had a fiery spirit that insisted you always spoke your mind. But seeing the look on his face at that moment made it hard not to think that you took it too far sometimes. 

You let out an awkward laugh, wondering how you could take words back that you had meant so deeply. “I’m sorry. That was silly. I shouldn’t have sprung this on you.” 

You started to retract your hands, hoping that that your eyes weren’t bright with embarrassment and that the rejection that you feared would swallow you whole wasn’t emanating off of you in waves. Spencer wouldn’t say it if he could feel it. He was a good guy, empathetic, and kind. He didn't derive pleasure in hurting others. 

Before your hands were fully out of sight, he gently pulled them back to him.

“Honey,” the word laced with tender intonation, the same one he always used when he spoke to you. “I’m not saying no, I-I just. . .” 

Sometimes words weren’t enough. He let go of one of your hands and reached into the brown leather jacket you had gotten him, pulling out a black velvet box. You felt your breath hitch. “I just couldn’t believe that you beat me to the punch,” he smiled nervously. He stood from the bench and got on one knee in front of you.

“Oh, Spence, you don’t have to do–"

“Baby, this is one tradition I’ve always wanted to keep.” And so you let him.

“Y/N L/N, I used to worry that I wouldn't know enough about romantic love to notice it if it ever came. I always wanted to fall in love and start a family, but I worried that my childhood or my job or the terrible things that had happened in my life would stand in the way. But when you came into my life, it all became clear. You always describe yourself as a tornado, but honey, that’s nowhere close to accurate. What you are is a paradigm shift, a critical shift in approach.” You laughed because only Spencer Reid would use science to propose to someone. It was so niche and unusual and exactly what you had never known you wanted. “You shifted how I saw the world, how I saw myself, and how I saw my life. Now, I can never go back and I never want to. I love you. I love you so much that I've searched in science and literature and art, but nothing comes close to describing it. And just like right now, you remind me that there is never a right enough time to wait to show someone that you love them. There is only the present. I might not know whether there will be a tomorrow, but if there is one, there is no doubt in my mind that I want to spend it with you.”

"Wow," You breathed. "I love you so much it hurts. And this is crazy. We haven't even been dating that long." You didn't know why you said it. Maybe for the need to point out some time down the line that you'd had some semblance of rationality in the moment. That some part of you had considered the weirdness of it all. But let's face it, you had already made your decision. You threw rationality out the window the moment you met this man. 

"Hey, you just asked me!" Spencer laughed.

You nodded. "I've always been crazy though. But you. . .I've made you crazy!"

"Yeah, you have. I like to believe that it was always inside of me and I just needed someone to bring it out. Will you keep being that person for me? For the rest of our lives?" 

Gosh, your voice had never trembled the way it did as you muttered yes after yes after yes. 

There were tears in his eyes and tears in your eyes. His hands shook as he pulled the ring out (a center-piece diamond like you’d always dreamed) and your hands shook as he slipped the ring onto your finger and he kissed you like something out of a film. It was perfect. He was perfect.

You strolled out of the park that night with the love of your life, your heart bursting with love, and a beautiful rock. 

“Technically, I proposed to you first and we have to tell everyone that now, okay?” You instructed. 

He smiled. “Anything you want, baby.”

[morganaawriterr]

Desperate; Lee Heeseung

SYNOPSIS ➺ Heeseung is a vampire who fell for the cute, hybrid bunny girl, you. Though his family doesn't approve, you stay together no matter what. After a fight with his parents, Heeseung runs to his safe place, you.

REQUEST ➺ For this cutie @heesbbygurl! Her bundle was: Moonstone (Heeseung). The empress (Forbidden love) Moon water + clove (Vampire) Suggestive. 11,“if I get a taste… I won’t stop.” 6. If I could have one ask is that the reader is a pretty cutesy type girl (channeling a bit of myself here).

WARNINGS ➺ Suggestive (sexual themes) Biting; mentions of blood and blood drinking; reader is a bunny hybrid for the plot; Hee is a cutie pie; Very intimate and cute; He almost cries;

Check out "Enchanted Corner" to see the original post with the rules to make a request yourself!

Heeseung’s parents' cruel voices and comments keep surfacing in his head, but they seem to get quieter the closer he gets to your small dorm room. It's past midnight, and you're probably asleep, but he can't help it.

He needs you.

His parents have planted poisonous seeds in his mind, and he needs to confirm your feelings for him before he goes insane.

The vampire knocks on your door softly, twice, his signature knock. To his surprise, you open the door before he can knock again. As soon as your pretty face peeks from behind the door, all his worries fade away.

“Baby?” you ask, confused. “Aren’t you supposed to be spending the weekend at your parents’ house?”

“I was…” Heeseung replies, eyes avoiding yours, feeling humiliated.

You find the behavior strange, knowing your boyfriend well due to the years you've been together. He is usually bright and clingy, his voice sweet and confident, but now he stands in front of you as if he has a heavy weight on his shoulders.

“Come in, please,” you instruct, giving him space. Heeseung grins just a little and steps inside.

You and Heeseung met in the first year of college, the National University for Creatures, where everyone was treated the same. No discrimination, no danger. And though vampires don't usually hang out with Hybrids, you were the exception. You and your cute bunny ears that made Hee lose his mind.

He has only been in your dorm once, and it didn't end well. You were supposed to be studying with him, but ended up on his lap, making out while the math books were long forgotten on the table.

The memories fill Hee’s mind, and he feels his body relax, your presence calming his racing heart. He sits down on the bed, and you sit by his side. One of your hands settles on his knee, and the other brushes a red hair out of his gorgeous face.

“What’s wrong, Hee?” you insist, your voice overflowing with worry.

Heeseung finally makes eye contact and completely melts at the sight of your big, round eyes. They’re staring at him with such purity and love, and your long, fluffy ears are perched up, concern evident in your face.

“It’s just… my parents keep telling me to leave you,” he starts explaining quietly. “They say we can’t trust other ‘species,’ and especially hybrids. They say they’re known to be hypersexual, and that leads to them cheating and leaving their partners. And I know that isn’t true—you would never do that! But I get angry at them and I yell and then we fight, and it gets worse.”

You gaze into his eyes with tenderness, listening to his concerns and bonding with him silently. When he finishes speaking, you reach for his face and caress his cheek. Heeseung looks at you with wet eyes, tears threatening to fall.

“Aw, baby… I understand. And it’s okay. Your parents don’t have to approve of our relationship. My parents are here for us, no matter what. I am here for you, no matter what,” you assure him, showing him a big smile.

Your vampire boyfriend smiles back at you and nuzzles his face against your palm, loving how warm your hand feels on his skin.

“Come here…” he pleads, gently helping you move and settle on his lap.

Heeseung doesn’t say anything else. He just rests his head against your chest and closes his eyes, savoring your loving embrace. And you let him stay just like that. Your hands slowly move upward and gently massage his scalp, playing with his hair.

After a few seconds, Heeseung’s mind travels somewhere else. He notices that your chest feels soft, and he figures you’re not wearing a bra under your pink Hello Kitty pajamas. Then his hands drift to your waist, and he rests his freezing hands on the exposed skin, loving how your body shivers almost instantly.

Naughty hands can’t help but slide upwards under your shirt, and with no warning, his fingers find your sensitive nipples. Your hold on his hair tightens, and your breathing quickens, obviously distracted by his teasing touches.

“I want to taste you so bad…” Heeseung hums against your neck. “But if I get a taste… I won’t stop.”

He doesn’t sound cocky, he sounds like he’s desperately trying to hold himself back. You’re already feeling worked up; being a hybrid makes you very sensitive, especially around the person you love.

“Hee…” you call breathless, your hands holding his face and forcing him to look at you.

“Yes, Princess?” he teases, his hands cupping your breasts beneath your shirt.

“Kiss me, please,” you whine, eyes closed in frustration. Heeseung smiles and shifts you further up on his lap. Now, you sit directly on top of him.

“Anything you want, princess.”

Heeseung approaches you with a gentle, almost teasing lean, and his lips then come together in a long, unhurried kiss. Your lips move smoothly against each other, molding as if you were made for one another. Your body burns, lost in the pleasure of both his lips and his dirty hands as they continue to toy with your breasts.

“Heeseung…” you moan, pulling away from his bruising kiss to breathe.

“What is it that you want?” he remarks, his mouth now grazing the underside of your jaw and neck.

“You… please… touch me more.” Begging is embarrassing, but you’ve had enough of his teasing.

“You asked for it…” Heeseung says before sinking his fangs into your neck, earning a gasp from you.

While you’re lost in the sensation of him sucking your blood, you don’t notice his fingers sliding down your body. Another moan escapes your lips when you feel his teasing touch on your sex, slow and torturous over your shorts.

Your hands fly to his head, and your fingers dive into his red hair, losing complete control.

“Heeseung… we have to stop…” You whine. “I’m not normal… I need more… I can't—”

Heeseung pulls away from your neck with bloody lips and a smirk. “I know, baby. I’ll give it to you. Be patient.”

And just as he finishes speaking, he’s back on your neck—this time on the other side, closer to your shoulder. That’s when you knew… You were in for a long, loving night.

Author's Note: I'm exhausted and in pain (literally) but I managed to write and post this, so I hope you guys enjoy, especially you cutie that requested this! As always, thank you so much for all the love, reblogs are always appreciated! Masterlist

Taglist: @mrsjjongstby @kawaiichu32 @maewphoria @tunafishyfishylike @deluluscenarios @firstclassjaylee @rjssierjrie @reibelhearts @pshfan0812

If you wanna be added or removed from the taglist just comment below!

[pittsick]

TRIBBING WITH FTM!ART ‼️‼️‼️‼️

summary: art is a bit shy about telling his girlfriend what he really wants; but once he does, he doesn't regret it. he knows his girlfriend will always take care of him and what he needs.

pairing: ftm!art donaldson x afab!girlfriend.

cw: +18. mdni. 1.1k words. praise. tribbing (vulva against vulva). messy kissing. submissive art donaldson. kind of dirty talking (soft).

taglist .ᐟ @blastzachilles, @lvve-talks, @jordiemeow, @strfallz, @222col, @soulxinxthexsky, @diyasgarden, @jinxedbambi, @lexiiscorect, @religionlost, @bluestrd, @jclolz22, @magicalmiserybore, @destinedtobegigi, @fwaist, @idyllicdaydreams (to be added)

The air was thick with summer heat, even with the window cracked open. Somewhere outside, a cicada buzzed lazily, the sound distant and muffled under the soft hum of the box fan in the corner of the room. The semester at Stanford was over and you had invited your boyfriend for vacation at your family’s house.

Art sat on the edge of your bed, fingers twisted in the hem of his T-shirt, thighs tense where they pressed together. His eyes flicked up to yours—dark, hungry, but nervous too.

“You sure?” you asked gently, stepping between his knees. The bed cracked.

Art nodded, hidden adam’s apple bobbing. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Just… just don’t stop talking. I like when you talk.”

You smiled and leaned down to kiss him—soft at first, your lips brushing his like a whisper. But the moment he leaned into you, you deepened it. His lips parted, eager and open, and your hands found his jaw, thumbs stroking lightly across his cheeks. He tasted like mint and nerves. The kiss was messy from the start, all breath and need and little whimpers that caught in his throat. You loved how easy it was to unravel him with nothing but your mouth.

“You’re already shaking,” you murmured against his lips, your voice low and fond.

Art let out a tiny, desperate sound, hips shifting involuntarily. “I can’t help it. You make me feel—fuck, I don’t even know.”

You pushed his shirt up and over his head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, a soft flush spreading across his skin. You let your fingertips skim over his scars with reverence, thumbs circling his nipples until he gasped.

“You’re so handsome like this,” you told him. “I love every inch of you. You know that?” Art’s eyes fluttered shut, as though the praise was too much to take. “Say it again.” He almost begged.

You leaned in, nipping gently at his jaw. “I love your body. Love the way you melt under my hands. You’re beautiful, Art.” He let out a shaky breath, hands coming up to grip your waist. His voice was smaller now, breathless. “Please… I want to feel you.”

“You will,” you promised, brushing your nose against his. “Lay back for me.”

He obeyed immediately, scooting up the bed until his head hit the pillow. You followed, straddling his thigh as you kissed him again—this time deeper, wetter, like you needed to taste every sound he made. Your hand slid between his legs, cupping the heat of him through his boxers. Art gasped, hips arching into your touch.

“You’re already soaked,” you murmured, half in awe. “I haven’t even taken these off you yet.” It wasn’t teasing, it wasn’t mocking—just a fact.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he admitted in a whisper. “Thought about you on top of me. Thought about your thighs, your hands, your kisses…” You kissed his throat, then lower—pressing your mouth to every inch of skin you could reach just to hear his beautiful sounds. “You’re gonna get what you want. Just stay still for me, baby.”

He whimpered at that, thighs twitching. You peeled off his boxers with care, and he helped, lifting his hips, baring himself completely to you. The trust in his eyes nearly knocked the breath out of you.

“Look at you,” you said, tracing a line down his stomach to where he was slick and flushed. “So wet for me. So perfect.”

Art keened, covering his face with one arm. “Fuck, stop—you’re gonna make me come just from that.”

You grabbed his wrist and gently pulled it away, making him look at you. “Don’t hide from me,” you said softly. “I want to see every reaction. Every twitch. Every time you fall apart.”

His eyes darkened with arousal, lips parting in a silent moan.

You sat up just enough to strip off your own shirt and underwear, leaving you both bare. His gaze dropped to your thighs, your folds already glistening. His hands gripped your hips as you moved to straddle him, your wet heat pressing against his. You rocked gently, grinding down, and both of you gasped at the friction.

“Fuck,” Art groaned, his head tipping back. “Feels so—God—feels so good.”

You cupped the back of his neck, pulling him into another kiss, open-mouthed and slick. Your tongues slid together, and the sound of it—the soft, wet suck—sent heat spiraling low in your belly.

You rocked again, slower this time, dragging yourself along the length of his wet folds. He was flushed and trembling beneath you, hands tight on your waist, mouth falling open with every drag of your hips.

“That’s it,” you whispered into his mouth. “You feel so good like this. So fucking soft. So easy to love.”

His nails dug into your skin. “Keep talking.” You bit his lip gently. “You’re perfect, Art. You make me want to take my time. Make you come slow. Make you feel everything.”

He moaned—long and deep—and ground up into you, searching for more pressure. You shifted your angle, thighs tightening as your clits met again, slick and swollen, sending sparks through both of you.

“There,” you gasped. “Right there, baby. You like it like that?”

He nodded furiously, words failing him.

You took his face in your hands, kissing him through it. It was messy now—spit-slick, desperate, full of moans. His lips chased yours, like he couldn’t stand to be without the taste of you.

“You’re being so good for me,” you said, rocking harder now, your pace growing erratic. “So responsive. So fucking pretty.”

“Please don’t stop,” he begged. “I’m gonna—fuck—I’m so close—”

“Let me feel it,” you whispered. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

The sound he made then—half whimper, half sob—sent you over the edge with him. His thighs tensed and trembled as he came, grinding up against you, body jerking with every wave of pleasure. You followed seconds later, burying your face in his neck as your own orgasm crashed through you, leaving you breathless and shaking.

You stayed like that for a long time—bodies sticky and tangled, mouths still occasionally brushing in soft, open kisses. His fingers ran up and down your spine in a lazy rhythm, and your hands cradled his jaw as you murmured praise into his skin.

“You did so good for me,” you said. “So perfect. I love how you fall apart. Love how you feel against me.” Art’s cheeks were still flushed, but his smile was soft now. “You make me feel like I’m perfect.”

“You are,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You always are.”

[thestarsaboveme]

­this was a request from a kind anon.

summary: angst with comfort, reader and lads men having a misunderstanding because reader is overthinking that they’re cheating on her with the mc since they always spend time with the mc and spending less time with the reader.

rafayel ver. | zayne ver. | sylus ver. | caleb ver.

xavier x reader | angst/comfort

The city outside buzzed with neon, flickering in rhythmic patterns against your windowpane. But inside, your apartment was too quiet. An oppressive sort of silence that crept into your bones and stayed there.

You stared at your phone. Again.

Nothing.

Not a single message from Xavier. Not today, not last night. Not since two days ago, when he said he had ''missions with MC.''

Again.

Your fingers curled around the device like it could ground you, but the storm inside your chest only worsened.

You weren't the jealous type. At least, you never thought you were. But lately, your thoughts had become poisoned by doubt, each unanswered text and broken plan feeling like another crack in your already fragile peace.

You remembered when things were different. When Xavier's voice was the first thing you heard in the morning. When he'd show up at your door, hair tousled from wind or battle, and kiss your forehead like it was the only place he belonged.

Now, he was always with her. With MC.

It wasn't just about the time. It was the way he talked about her. His partner on missions, someone who ''gets it'' someone he ''clicks with''. Someone who wasn't you.

And the worst part?

You understood. MC was exceptional. Smart, brave, capable. She challenged Xavier in ways maybe you couldn't. They had chemistry in battle, a synchronicity you never quite shared. And deep down, your mind whispered cruel things. That he might have realized she was the one for him.

And you? You were just…a detour.

The thought made your stomach twist. The ache swelled in your chest, and before you knew it, you were typing.

Hey, are you free later? Can we talk?

You stared at the message for a long while before pressing send.

The reply didn't come until dusk.

Of course. On my way now.

He arrived barely twenty minutes later, dressed in that familiar light jacket, blond hair slightly damp from the rain. His eyes softened when he saw you, but you didn't miss the tension beneath the calm exterior. He always saw too much.

''You okay?'' he asked, stepping inside.

You nodded. Then shook your head. ''Not really.''

His gaze narrowed, concern flashing across his face. ''What's wrong?''

You took a breath, trying to steady the tremor in your voice.

''Are you…seeing her?''

His brows furrowed. ''What?''

''MC,'' you said, biting your lower lip. ''Are you cheating on me with her?''

The words sounded awful out loud. Raw and brittle. But there was no taking them back now.

Silence.

He stared at you like you'd just slapped him. His expression was unreadable, but the hurt in his eyes was unmistakable.

''No,'' he said, voice low and deliberate. ''I'm not.''

You looked away, swallowing hard. ''You're always with her. You spend more time with her than with me. You cancel plans, go silent for days. I get it. Missions come first. But it feels like I'm always second.''

His jaw tightened. ''You think I'm cheating on you because I'm doing my job?''

You flinched. ''It's not just that. It's how you talk about her. Like she's… important. Like she gets you in a way I don't.''

The silence after that was the kind that threatened to break both of you.

He took a step closer, and something in his voice cracked. ''She's my mission partner. That's it.''

''Is it?'' you whispered, eyes shimmering. ''Because it feels like I'm just…here. Like you don't even see me anymore.''

Xavier exhaled, long and slow, before sitting down on the couch.

''I didn't know you felt this way,'' he said, his voice quieter now. ''Why didn't you tell me sooner?''

''I didn't want to seem clingy,'' you admitted. ''I didn't want to be that person. But it started eating at me, and every time I tried to bring it up, you were already gone again.''

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped.

''I didn't mean to make you feel this way,'' he said. ''But I won't lie. I've been…avoiding things. Not you. Just everything else. The pressure. The fear. The part of me that knows I can lose you if I screw this up.''

Your eyes widened. ''What?''

He looked up at you, and the raw vulnerability in his eyes hit you like a wave.

''You think I'm pulling away because I don't care,'' he said. ''But the truth is, I've been terrified. I've seen too many people I care about get hurt. MC…she's been through hell. Working with her remind me what's at stake. I thought…maybe if I kept my distance a little, I could protect you from all of that.''

Your chest ached at his words. ''So you were pushing me away to protect me?''

He gave a short bitter laugh. ''Yeah. Stupid, right?''

''No,'' you whispered. ''Just…heartbreaking.''

You moved to sit beside him, slowly, cautiously. He didn't move away.

''I miss you,'' you said softly. ''Not just physically. I miss us.''

His eyes closed, lashes trembling.

''I miss you too,'' he murmured. ''More than you know.''

The silence that followed was heavy. But it felt different now. Like something had shifted.

When he spoke again, it was with a gentleness that made your throat tighten.

''I never cheated on you. I never even thought about it. You are the person I come home to in my mind. Even when I'm not physically here. But I should've shown you more. I should've been here with you.''

You nodded, tears slipping silently down your cheeks. 'I just wanted to be part of your world. Not shut out of it.''

''I'll do better,'' he promised, reaching for your hand. ''No more shutting you out. You deserve all of me. Not just the pieces I think are safe.''

You held his hand tightly, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours, the pulse of something real and fragile between you.

''Just don't go quiet on me,'' you said, voice shaking. ''Even if it's hard. I'd rather fight with you than wonder if I'm losing you.''

He smiled faintly, brushing a thumb against your cheek. ''Then let's fight together. For us.''

And in that moment, under the soft hum of rain and the city's distant glow, the space between you finally began to close.

[lsunstreakerl]

Very nicely asking with a big 🥺 for catboy!Max with Rico

Do what you want with that ♡

this was supposed to be all smut but actually ending up being 4.1k words of catboy max finding his forever home and getting fucked. as ver2 normally goes, this is tooth rotting fluff, and I may find myself inclined to revisit them later. explicit!

pairings: rico verhoeven/max verstappen

relevant heads up: catboy max, maxussy, hybrids are not treated like people, toys, breeding kink (right at the end)

The hurt sets in on the car ride back home. Rico can feel every hit, every bruise, and the exhaustion is starting to sink in as he comes down, head resting on his folded hands.

He just wants to get home, maybe run a bath, and sleep.

He groans when he remembers the small snag in that plan— he's somehow ended up emergency housing a catboy for a friend who works with a rescue agency, and it was supposed to be dropped off today.

It's a great first impression, not even being home when the poor thing is dropped off, and now he's going to come inside, clearly bruised up— he'll be lucky if he sees the hybrid at all.

The house is quiet when he steps inside, keys dangling from his limp fingers. There's a box on the counter, and when he steps closer he realizes it's stocked with snacks.

The hybrid has a fondness for stroopwaffles, apparently. There's a handwritten note at the top with a lengthy apology about having to dump it on Rico last minute, and the barest amount of information.

The catboy's name is Max, he's standoffish, and the rescue agency thinks he might be a nontraditional hybrid— his eyebrows fly up when he reads the current guess.

He hadn't signed up for a snow leopard in his house when he'd agreed, he thought he'd end up with a European domestic.

There's no sign of Max, but Rico takes a package of snacks into the bedroom with him. He raises his voice slightly as he pulls his shirt off, tossing it into the basket in the corner of his room.

"Hello Max. Sorry I wasn't home when you got here. My name is Rico, I live alone, and I would really like to take a bath, so please do not destroy anything."

He knows that the hybrid won't understand him, but it makes him feel better to attempt and communicate, even if it's pointless.

There's still no sign of Max as he settles into the sunken bathtub, water hot around him as he leans back and closes his eyes. The catboy is probably hiding in a closet somewhere, or maybe under the bed— he's not expecting to see him right away. Assuming Max had even been dropped off at all, because if he hasn't Rico is going to feel incredibly dumb, talking to himself out loud in an empty house.

------

He's dozed off in the water when he wrinkles his nose. It tickles slightly, like there's hair at it, and he blinks his eyes open, confused and needing to sneeze.

He's eye to eye with Max. The catboy is stretched out on the floor, eyes wide as he bats at Rico's face again. He has short little claws, still dressed in traditional transport gear, the black compression wear standing out against his pale skin and bright eyes.

There's short ears poking up out of his hair, and he has the longest tail Rico's ever seen, swishing against the tile of the bathroom floor as he swats at his nose.

He can't help the grin tugging at his lips, leaning his head forward so that Max's fingers pause against his face.

"Oh, you're pretty. Hello, baby."

Max makes a small chirp, fingers pressing against Rico's cheek as he tilts his head, ears twitching. He doesn't seem standoffish at all— just curious. Rico patiently lets him explore, careful not to move and accidentally startle him. The water has started to get lukewarm, and he's really wishing he'd taken painkillers earlier, but the hurt is overridden by the quiet sense of awe he's feeling at Max.

It only lasts so long. Eventually the pain is impossible to ignore, and he blows air out of his nose softly, catching Max's attention from where the catboy has been inspecting the shower.

Max's head swivels around, ears twitching as he looks at Rico.

"I'm going to move, baby. It's probably going to scare you, and I'm sorry, but I am seriously hurting, and I would like to not be doing that."

Max makes a soft chirping noise, but as soon as Rico leans forward to stand, he's out of the room in a blur of black and blonde, disappearing around the corner.

Rico winces, easing himself out of the tub and drying off. He doesn't bother with a shirt, just low slung sweatpants as he walks into the kitchen. The painkillers are easy enough to locate, and he's washing them down with tap water when he can feel eyes on him.

Max is peeking over the back of the couch, ears flat against his head, pupils blown.

Rico wiggles his fingers at him.

"Hi."

Max continues staring, and Rico fumbles in the box for the stroopwaffle container. He bites his tongue to silence his laugh at the speed his ears perk up when the package opens, plastic crinkling loud in the kitchen.

He breaks one in half, extending his hand out slowly. He's not sure what kind of environment Max came from before, and he doesn't particularly want his fingers bitten off. Max watches him warily, eyes narrowing as Rico stops, arm fully extended.

The stroopwaffle half disappears from his hand in a blur, and Max darts off the couch and around the hallway, completely silent. Rico doesn't even hear his footsteps— it must be the hybrid genes.

He shrugs, popping the other half in his mouth. Max taking it at all is a good sign, and he's still got all his fingers, so it's a minor victory.

------

He wakes up slowly in the morning, overheated. His body feels heavier than normal, and when he blinks his eyes open he freezes.

Max is lying on top of him, hair brushing his nose. There's a deep purr vibrating through his chest, and his tail is wound around Rico's ankle.

His heart pangs. He's never considered having a catboy of his own before, but he feels like his heart is going to squeeze out of his chest, overwhelmingly fond of the hybrid sleeping on top of him.

Max's ear twitches, and blue eyes crack open to stare at him. The catboy doesn't move, holding Rico's gaze.

He clears his throat softly.

"Good morning baby. Comfortable?"

Max shifts his head closer, gingerly butting up against Rico's jaw. It's heartbreakingly gentle, like he thinks Rico might reject him.

He leans into it instead, feeling the purring intensify as Max scents him.

He's practically melting on top of Rico, tucking his head neatly under his jaw, and he's wondering how anyone could've possibly not wanted him.

He slowly brings a hand up, stroking lightly down Max's spine, mildly fearful of getting his throat ripped out— but Max chirps into his neck, nuzzling closer.

"You're so sweet— makes me want to keep you."

Rico leaves the base of his tail alone, because he doesn't have a death wish, and instead pokes Max gently in the side.

"But I need to do my morning run, so you're going to have to get off of me."

Max doesn't budge.

Rico sighs, slowly starting to roll them until Max slides onto the mattress, which earns him a disdainful meow.

"I'm sorry, but you seemed pretty happy to stay there all day,"

He runs his hand along Max's side gently, wiggling his fingers.

"And I've got work to do."

------

Rico is four miles into his run when Max catches up to him, although he doesn't notice until another jogger waves at him.

"Gorgeous cat there mate!"

"Thank you! Wait, Wha—"

Rico spins around, and Max chirps at him. His ears are pushed forward, eyes bright, and his tail is swaying gently behind him.

"Oh my— Max, how did you— I locked the door!"

Max rolls onto the balls of his feet before leaning forward again, looking at Rico expectantly.

"Sweetheart, I don't even— you can't come free roaming, you don't have tags, or a harness, or a collar, or— or anything."

Max meows, nudging into Rico's chest. He takes a slow breath in, pinching the bridge of his nose as he counts.

He gets to 33 before he decides.

"Fine. But only this one time, okay? You can't free roam with me, I'm not your owner."

He really shouldn't be doing it at all— he should be walking Max back to the house, one hand securing him at all times, because he's not his. He's a foster, unchipped and unregistered, and that means he has to stay put. Strays don't do well in the wild, and he's so sweet, so pretty— Rico doesn't want to think about how he would fare.

Instead, he's letting Max finish the run with him. He keeps Max directly at his side, within eyesight the entire time, and when they finally get back to the house he's panting, sweat running down his back.

Max seems perfectly content, chirping at Rico happily at he smiles and drops into a stretch, arms high above his head.

Rico is captivated by the lines of his body, the casual elegance and power carried on his frame. All cat hybrids are pretty, but Max is something wilder. He's not a breed diluted down to look pretty and laze around— he's active, hints of solid muscle under his skin.

He sighs, looking fondly at him.

"Point made, kitty. You don't like being cooped up, I get it."

------

He sets the phone down with a low groan, dragging his fingers through his hair. The rescue service had called, just to tell him they weren't able to locate any placements for Max. There's a few catch and release programs for truly wild hybrids, but Max has been around people too long. He's too domesticated now, and he wouldn't survive on his own.

It's put Rico in a situation. He has Max— indefinitely— who needs to be active, out and about far more than the average catboy.

As it stands, Rico can't provide that, despite his lifestyle near perfectly aligning to what Max needs.

He can afford the specialized diet, he can afford accommodations to take Max around the world with him, he's an athlete constantly on the lookout for new ways to be active.

He's a perfect fit.

Rico drums his fingers against the table, clicking his tongue.

"Maxy baby, come here."

Max perks his head up from the couch, stretching fully before slinking off of it and making his way over. His ears twitch as his head cocks, reaching over to play with Rico's fingers.

"You want to stay here? With me?"

He chirps, butting his head against Rico's shoulder. Rico presses a quick kiss between his ears, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"If you weren't so sweet I wouldn't consider it, but..."

------

"Max, baby, you need to— hold still—"

Rico gives up, tossing the leash to the side before he manages to snag Max by the back of the neck, yanking them both down onto the floor. Max likes to roughhouse, and it's convenient that Rico's made himself a tidy little career out of that kind of thing.

He gets a leg around Max, fingers gripping his wrists together as he pins them above his head. Max shamelessly grinds up onto his dick, thighs shiny with slick.

Rico sighs, pointing a finger at his face.

"You love ski trips, so I'm not sure why you are always so determined to be an ass on the way there."

Max makes a plaintive noise, wiggling his hips. The end of his tail flicks against the floor, and his pupils are wide, dusty pink on his cheeks.

Rico raises an eyebrow, sparing a moment to mourn his sweatpants before he readjusts so his weight is pinning Max's hips. Near immediately his catboy starts to try and grind against him, fingers curling helplessly into his palms as he squirms.

His free arm bats around at the table before Rico finds what he's looking for— he'd dropped the toys once he realized Max was trying to lead him on a merry chase around the house.

Max catches sight of the dark purple silicone and yowls, ears pinning flat.

"I know, I know, but you don't like flights. This works best for everyone."

Sure, it leaves Max incapacitated for the duration of the travel period, but Rico doesn't mind carrying him around.

He pins Max's legs apart with his knees, rubbing the tip of the toy through his soaked cunt a few times, watching it start to glisten with slick before he pushes it in.

His hips jerk up under Rico's weight, lashes fluttering as the toy stretches him wide, pushing deep inside. It's textured with bumps and ridges, and it's slightly wider at the base— Rico has to give it some encouragement to lock itself into his catboy's pretty pussy, slick shiny on his legs.

The front of the base curves and locks over his clit, and Rico presses his fingers carefully to make sure it's comfortable for Max, not pinching anywhere it isn't supposed to. He lets go of Max's wrists, using his now freed hand to scratch through his hair, rubbing at the base of his ears.

"Good boy."

Max starts up a low purr, watching Rico with anticipation as he grabs the plug, dragging it through the dripping slick. It's shorter, wide at the base, with a unique bump along the top. It'll stimulate Max's tail while it's inside of him, rubbing against the sensitive glands whenever he moves.

The tip of it pushes into his ass easily. Rico had spent ages stretching him out earlier in the morning, nose buried deep in his cunt as he worked him open on his fingers, Max wailing above him. It's paying off now as the toy worms its way inside, encountering little resistance.

Max trembles as it settles into place, softly panting. His tail flicks against the floor before brushing against Rico's knee, curling at his thigh, and he leans down to kiss him, squeezing at his chest.

The tension that had started to build in his catboy slowly seeps out as he makes soft little gasps into Rico's mouth, fingers curling at his shirt. The kiss is filthy, small claws digging pinpricks into his side as Rico pins him in place, and he gets lost in it, the slick slide of Max's mouth, the warmth of him underneath his hands.

He hadn't considered how nice this part of owning Max would be. His kitty loves kisses, loves when Rico settles on top of him and lazily grinds while they make out. He's perfectly happy to stay under him for hours, liquid and malleable to whatever Rico wants. It's intoxicating.

He pulls back and Max pouts, lips kiss swollen and spit slick, cheeks red. His ears flick as Rico sits back, carefully pulling Max with him.

"You ready for your transport gear?"

Max can't necessarily understand him, but he's brilliant at pattern recognition, and he knows that transport gear means trip. His eyes brighten as he starts out a loud purr, butting excitedly against Rico's chest.

He laughs, picking Max up and draping him across his shoulder on the way into the bedroom. Max's hips wiggle against his shoulder, tail flicking as Rico pinches his ass, earning him a high pitched yelp.

"You excited, sweetheart?"

He tosses Max onto the bed with a wide grin, and Max scrambles to roll off of his back and lay out against his front, hips pushed up. He's bright and alert, still flushed at his cheeks and chest, but that's going to be a permanent fixture for the next several hours, due to the toys.

Rico digs out the transport gear from its drawer. Black leggings, blue athletic shorts, and a soft compression top. it's designed to keep Max comfortable while avoiding chafing from his harness and collar, and while Max isn't required to have his legs cuffed together for the flight— at least, not on the airline Rico is taking— he still has to have the equipment on, just in case.

"Chest up Maxy."

He taps at Max's sternum, and he goes easy, holding still and wigging his head through the top of the shirt. He can adjust it himself to sit comfortably against his skin as Rico works on the leggings, double checking the fit of the toys inside of him. They're snug and secure, Max's cunt wet and puffy at the edges where it's stretched around the toy. He's not worried about size discomfort, because Max takes his cock on the regular, but he wants to make sure there's no unexpected irritation.

Once he's satisfied, he slides the shorts over the leggings, checking to make sure Max's tail isn't pinched. His hips push up into Rico's hand as he feels at the base of his tail, whimpering softly.

"It's alright baby, I'm just checking. You're okay."

He presses another kiss to Max's lips before dropping a light one on his nose. The real gear is folded carefully in the drawer, and he runs his fingers across it to check all the rings and connectors. He keeps his equipment in good shape, and Max's is no different.

The harness fits snug across Max's chest, a large leather panel at the front and back, the two sides connected with straps and rings. Max is patient as Rico puts it on, although there's an excited wiggle he can't quite shake, and he keeps pressing forward eagerly into Rico's hands.

Rico hooks his finger into the ring at the front, tugging at Max to make sure everything stays put. He pats Max on the thigh, twisting to push him facedown in the bed. The leather cuffs as easy enough— there's four of them, one on each thigh and ankle, and they can connect to each other however is needed.

Not that Rico's ever needed them. The toys keep Max docile, and Rico carries him everywhere they need to go anyways. It's just a show, to prove they're meeting regulations.

A quick pat at Max's ass, and his catboy is sliding to his knees on the floor, head tilted back so Rico can secure his collar on. He's microchipped, but the thick black leather makes it unmistakable who he belongs to. The tag information is stamped into the side, as well as Rico's logo.

Although— Max features in his Instagram often, so he's a fairly famous figure in his own right.

He pockets an assortment of gags into his carry-on bag. Max doesn't normally need them, but he'd rather be over prepared.

"You ready?"

The loud, incessant meowing Rico gets as Max launches up, butting against his chest and under his jaw, is answer enough.

------

Rico parks the car in the private terminal, twisting to look at Max in the backseat.

"Be good, baby. You know how this works."

He thumbs open the app on his phone, which loads for a moment before cheerily letting him know he's connected to his device. There's a specific setting for Max flights— it starts low, picks up for the flight, and simmers back down again closer to landing. He starts it.

Max arches up with a loud cry, fingers digging into the seat as he thrashes. Rico shushes him gently, running a hand through his hair. This part he'd cuffed Max's legs together for, on account of the way his kitty jerks around, trying to escape the vibrations. Rico nudges the intensity up as Max's eyes roll back and his muscles lock, starting to tremble at the vibrations get stronger.

"Good boy Maxy, so pretty for me. You're going to be so good on the flight, and we'll be landing before you know it, you just need to come a few times first."

Tears drip from Max's eyes at the overstimulation, limbs locked as he sobs, yanking at the cuffs helplessly, and Rico slides the intensity higher, pushing him over the edge again. Max has a high tolerance for being fucked stupid— but they'll reach it eventually, and he'll be hazy for the entire flight.

They just have to get there first.

------

Rico wakes up from his midflight nap to soft sniffles against his collarbone, Max curled tight in his lap. They're in a private cabin, and he has his hips pressed into Rico's, clinging onto him.

"Oh, baby. You're doing a good job, it's almost over."

He kisses Max's hair, running a hand down his back slowly. It's a long flight, but when he checks the tracker, they'll be landing soon. He'll spend a few hours slowly coaxing him back to normal, and then they can get started on the actual trip— he's found an open air park in the snow where Max can free roam, which means Rico will probably get pounced on from a tree once or twice.

He's got a private gym booked out, and his team is flying out tomorrow to meet with him so they can get his season scheduling figured out, but this first day is just for him and Max.

He unfolds the blanket next to them, wrapping it across Max as he shutters the window, lips pressed to his forehead.

"You're going to be so excited about this park, Maxy. It's perfect for you."

------

Rico moans, gripping Max tightly at the hips as he teases the tip of his cock through his puffy folds, drenched wet with slick. The toy is tossed aside, and Max is mewling underneath him, far gone and desperate. He's pliant, fucked out and hazy from the flight, and Rico goes for another slow drag before pushing in.

Max's eyes roll back into his head as he arches his back underneath him, wet and warm as Rico presses their hips flush. Traveling together has been a process of trial and error, but he thinks they're getting it figured out.

He grips one of Max's legs behind the knee and folds it up into his chest, fucking in deeper as Max trembles, shaking helplessly.

His head dips down into the crook of Max's neck as he starts to fuck him in earnest, hips snapping in as he nips at his ear. Tiny claws are scratching lines down his back as Max's other leg hooks up across his waist, and he's near folded in half as Rico angles up inside of him, wailing.

His teeth sink into Max's shoulder as he comes, hips grinding in slow circles against him. Max whimpers as he feels it inside of him, trembling starting to slow.

Rico doesn't normally come inside of him unless he has the rest of the day free to make sure there's no complications, but it's a quick grounding tactic for after the flight— and it's self indulgent. He pulls out slowly, index finger and thumb spreading Max's pussy wide as he watches the slow trickle of cum escaping him.

Max weakly bats at his hand, trying to push him away, and Rico laughs softly, leaning up to kiss him.

"Feeling better yet? Or do you want a bath first?"

His catboy twitches, and Rico tilts his head curiously as he realizes Max is trying to keep his hips up, whining softly as two of his fingers push inside. He can't possible want to come again, so what—

The arousal hits him so fast it's dizzying, and he knows he can't get hard again yet, but he's trying his best anyways.

"Oh— Sweetheart, you want to keep it inside?"

Max whimpers, shifting in Rico's hold before he rolls over, chest pressed into the pillow and hips up in the air. He has to shut his eyes for a moment, reminding himself that he has things to do on this trip, and he can't stay cooped up in the hotel all week just because he's discovered his pretty boy has a thing for getting bred.

He presses a kiss to the side of Max's hip, hopelessly endeared.

"You still need a bath, Max. You're being so sweet, so pretty for me, and it is,"

He takes a deep breath, palm pressed at the dip of his spine.

"So hot that you want that, but not right now."

Max makes a soft noise as Rico rolls him back over, kissing the hollow of his throat before pressing a light kiss to his lips. His kitty is cock drunk, unseeing eyes blinking up at him.

Rico mentally skims his schedule, trying desperately to think of a good time before he realizes.

He leans in close, lips brushing against Max's pulse point. His sweet boy doesn't know what he's saying, but the words drip from his mouth like a promise, a secret tucked tight between the two of them.

"When your adoption day rolls back around, I'll take the whole week off, keep you stuffed full. I won't let you waste any of it, baby."

Max mewls underneath him, arching up to press along his chest, fingers scrabbling at the muscles of his back. Rico adores him, can't remember what life was like without him— and Max is spayed, which means he can spend the entire week fucking him full of cum and keeping him that way.

He kisses gently at his neck again before swinging an arm under his legs, lifting him as he stands from the bed.

"But that's later, Maxy, which means right now,"

He grins at Max, resting limply in his arms.

"You get a bath."

[novaschips]

Okay. So. Walk with me.

It's the fourth of July shift, Frank's first day back, and it's immediately HELL.

He tries to keep his head above water, but he constantly feels like drowning. He can't afford to have a panic attack. It's case after case after drug test after drug test.

His work routine is slower now, always having to track down a fellow resident and or attending to sign off on his medication requests, and that's a hell of its own kind.

And Frank endures it all. He endures the whispers. The lingering glances. The judgmental stares, the way Robby barely even looks at him. And maybe. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe he shouldn't have come back and

"YOU'RE HERE!" A voice, excited, greets him and there she is, like an oasis in desert, Dr. Melissa King. He always thought he's forever lost her trust, but she's smiling at him, and for the first time that day, he finds himself smiling back.

And, against all odds, Mel sticks by him, stands up for him, and maybe. Maybe Frank found in her a harbor he can ride the storm in. She is strong, dependable, and takes no bullshit, and Frank is grateful for her. She signs off on any medication requests he has for patients without asking what they are for, the implicit trust THERE, never wavering.

So, Frank slogs through. And at the end of the shift, he finds himself falling into step with Mel. Mel, with her noise cancelling headphones on because she loves watching the fireworks, but she hates the noise. Frank gets her.

They are standing on the steps of the hospital when the fireworks start, and Frank watches the colorful display for a second before he finds himself turning his head to watch Mel.

And Mel, beautiful and wonderful Mel, is watching the fireworks, colors dancing across her face, a huge smile on her face. Frank feels his breath arrest, in awe, and he can't look away from her. He eventually does, but it takes so much effort to turn back to the fireworks.

What he doesn't see is Mel turning to look at him, smile soft around the edges, in awe at him, at this man who managed to turn his life around, who never gave up the fight, who clawed his way out of rock bottom. The fight is not over, but Mel vows to be with him every step of the way.

She reaches for his hand, and Frank's breath is punched out of him. They lace their fingers together, and time starts once again.

He can do this, he finally thinks to himself. This wasn't a mistake. He's right back where he needs to be.

He anchors down. He's home.

[lynzishell]

🎶Ready to Start by Arcade Fire

Prev // Next

Reference Post: 8 Years Ago

I have to give a HUGE shoutout to my dear friend @honeyjars-sims who not only helped me with the Goode Boys Gaming logo, but also with the cover art for the boys' first game: Oneironaut I am forever grateful to have such a talented and generous friend who is always willing to help me bring these little details to life!! I can't tell you how much I appreciate you, T!!! Thank you so so much!! 😭💖

Oneironaut cover art + Transcript below the cut:

SFX: Ambient bar sounds 🎶Ready to Start by Arcade Fire

The businessmen drink my blood Like the kids in art school said they would And I guess I’ll just begin again You say, “Can we still be friends?” And if I was scared, I would And if I was bored, you know I would And if I was yours, but I’m not

Asher: Yeah, I mean, you could always move to San Sequoia. I’d make you a hell of an offer to have you on my team again. Evan: It’s tempting. But, um, I think I’m gonna stay in the city for now. I’ve been seeing someone new, and I kinda want to see where it goes.

Asher: Damn. Rejecting me for some guy you barely know. That’s fucked up. Evan: [smirks] Consider it payback. Asher: [laughs] Wow. Been hanging on to that one for eight years, have you? Evan: Nah. You obviously made the right choice.

Charlee: We’ve actually been talking about moving out that way. Jensen: Yeah, I don’t know what your plans are, but if you’re looking for a developer…? Atlas: Yes, absolutely. Let’s talk next month. We have to get a few things sorted before we can start hiring people, but— Lex: [dramatic gasp] Is that THE Atlas Goode?!

Atlas: Oh my god, Lex, finally! Lex: I know, we’re late. I’m so sorry. Atlas: It’s alright. How are you? Lex: I’m good.

Lex: Congratulations! I knew you guys would kill it! Atlas: Thank you. Lex: Is Ash around? Atlas: He’s back by the bar with Evan. Will you go get them? I want to say a few words. Lex: Ooh! I’m on it.

Atlas: Alright, everyone, listen up! I fucking hate speeches, so I’m gonna make this quick.

Atlas: It was eight years ago, at that table in the corner over there, when Ash first told me about his idea for a video game and asked me to work on it with him. For me, this dream was born on that night, but for him, it was years in the making. He’d already spent countless hours building incredibly vast and detailed worlds, creating compelling characters and storylines. His passion for this project was contagious. It reminded me why I got into gaming in the first place, and it has been an honor to be a part of bringing his vision to life.

Atlas: Ash, you are the most incredible person I’ve ever met. Not a day goes by that I’m not in awe of how brilliant your mind is, and how big your heart is. And I’m so proud to stand next to you, to build this company with you, to share my life with you, and pretty soon, to raise two little gremlins with you.

Atlas: To Asher - The love of my life, the father of my children, and the genius behind Oneironaut! Everyone: [cheering]

Everyone: [cheering louder]

Asher: Can we step outside? Atlas: Sure.

Atlas: Was that too much? Asher: No, I just needed a minute. I’m starting to feel a bit sentimental, and I didn’t want to get emotional in there.

Asher: I’m gonna miss this city. And our friends. Atlas: Me too. Asher: And our family. Atlas: I know.

Asher: Promise me we’ll still come back to visit? Atlas: Of course. Why wouldn’t we?

Asher: You know why. And I get it, I can come visit any time I want, and if you choose not to join me then that’s your prerogative. But I’ll want to bring the twins with me, which means they’ll be around Ezra, and I don’t know how you’ll feel about that, but like, our kids and his are going to be cousins and I’m not going to keep them apart. There’s no detangling him from our life, and I just worry that this whole thing is going to get worse over time. Atlas: No. I won’t let that happen. Asher: How?

Atlas: Would it make you feel better if I called my old therapist to see if I can get an appointment? Asher: Yes. It would. Atlas: Good, because I already did. He’s going to get back to me on Monday. I promise I’m dealing with it. I just need a little time. Asher: Okay. Yeah, you’ve got it.

Asher: Y’know this is the spot where we had our first kiss. Atlas: I remember. Asher: That will always be the most memorable part of that night for me. Atlas: For me too.

Asher: We should probably head back inside. Atlas: Or… we could get outta here. Asher: Nice try, but we are not bailing on our own party. Atlas: Worth a shot. Asher: Come on. We don’t have many of these nights left. I don’t want to take it for granted.

Atlas: If it helps, it sounds like we won’t have to say goodbye to everyone. Jay and Charlee are thinking about moving to San Sequoia too. Asher: No shit? Atlas: Yeah, Jay’s interested in working with us, and with Charlee out there, you may be able to convince Evan to join us too. Asher: I already tried. They’re not ready to leave the city.

Atlas: Are you ready to leave the city? Asher: We haven’t lived in the city for a while. Atlas: I know, but you know what I mean. Asher: Yeah. I’m ready.

[literary-lesbo]

A Cold Fire

MedWhump May Day 5: Fever (Alt prompt) Summary: Emily's sick at work, JJ takes her home. set in CME Word Count: ~800 A/N: I'm disappointed in this one tbh but I got out of work too late to rewrite so here we are. I might redo it someday when I have more time

AO3

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Emily was cold. Not ‘add an extra layer cold’, the kind of cold that made your veins run with ice. No mug of warm tea or hot shower could fix the cold burrowing deep into Emily’s body, settling rather uncomfortably into her bones. She ached, everything ached. Every blink was agony, the click of her keyboard tore knives into her brain. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this awful, long before Hotch had gone into hiding leaving her in charge of the BAU. Long before BAU Gate had plagued her life, forcing her to work at all hours of the night to figure out how to get it taken down. 

The woman reached for her now cold mug of coffee, taking a few swigs of the bitter liquid. On other days she would’ve added a bit of splenda, maybe some milk, but she wasn’t drinking the coffee to enjoy it right now. She needed to stay awake and there was not a whole lot else she could do. She also had this fleeting hope that the caffeine would help her headache, it didn’t seem to be touching it yet. Nevertheless, she continued to drink it. 

Time was typically something that Emily had time tracking, she had several alarms set on her phone just to keep track of her days off, but in her current state she was a mess. Before long the sun had slipped behind the DC skyline, leaving her office lit only by the small lamp on her desk. She had considered getting up to turn it on, but she was fairly confident that if she stood she would collapse. If she could even make it to her feet. She hadn’t even begun to consider how she would get herself home, maybe just sleep in her office for the night? It wouldn’t be the first time. 

The woman was still debating when a familiar figure with blonde hair darkened her doorway. 

“Hey Em, everybody’s going out for drinks. You want to come?” JJ asked, offering her boss a practiced smile. Their relationship had been strained as of late, but she was trying. In truth, she missed her friend. She missed what their relationship used to be. 

Emily looked up from her computer, blinking a few times as she tried to process the words. Her head felt fuzzy, she could take JJ’s words and understand them individually but for some reason put them together in that order wasn’t making sense. The silver haired woman shook herself slightly, trying to force herself to answer. Her thoughts were moving sluggishly, she couldn’t manage to form an answer. 

“Emily? You okay?” JJ’s voice poked at the fog in her head, forcing her back into the present. She blinked up at JJ, squinting as she tried to remember what she had been asked. “Prentiss, are you in there?” The blonde tried again, taking a few steps into the office. Before lockdown, waltzing into Emily’s office wouldn’t have been a problem for JJ. Now though, it felt like she was breaking some unspoken rule. 

What Emily meant to say was: 

“I appreciate your concern but I'm fine JJ, don't worry about me. Go have fun with the team, you guys deserve a break.”

What she actually managed to get out was far less eloquent. 

“Uh…’mfine, go drink,” she croaked out, rubbing a hand across her sweat beaded forehead. Her hair had started to stick to her skin, probably the fever that had been slowly getting higher. Emily knew that she was sick, but there wasn’t a whole lot she could do about that. 

“Woah, you sound like shit,” JJ remarked, previous concerns about invading Emily’s space abandoned. She walked over to her boss’s desk, tilting the lamp slightly so that she could see her better. The sight that she was met with left JJ amused and concerned. 

Emily’s cheeks were flushed red, the rest of her face a ghostly white. Her eyes looked sunken and glossy, dark circles making it appear that she hadn’t slept in days. JJ frowned, reaching over to press her palm to Emily’s forehead. 

“Oh Em,” she moved her hand from the BAU Chiefs forehead to her cheek, trying to understand why Emily would even come to work today. JJ couldn’t help the sad smile that crossed her face when Emily leaned into her touch, pushing her fevered cheek into the soft palm of her coworker. 

“Pack up your stuff, I'm going to take you home.” 

“Hm? No, you…you’re goin’ out. ‘Mworking.” She couldn't deny that home sounded nice. The idea of not having to drive sounded even nicer. What she wouldn’t give to be curled up in her bed right now, tv on and mug of tea on her bedside table. 

JJ shook her head slightly, beginning to gather Emily’s stuff for her. It wasn’t a surprise that she was resisting, JJ was still having a hard time believing that she was conscious right now. 

“You’re done honey.” There was just not much arguing with that. JJ’s authoritative tone, coupled with just how terrible Emily was feeling, was enough to tip her towards agreement. She was too tired to fight with JJ and she was so cold. At least if she were home she could add a few more layers. That sounded nice. 

@medwhumpmay

[mysteriouswolf]

Day Six: Mumbo!!

GRUMBO FIC GRUMBO FIC GRUMBO FIC :D

also!!! go donate to the fundraiser!!! LETS BEAT LAST YEARS!!

It started out small- a gray hair, out of place upon the jet-black, dark purple circles under Mumbo’s eyes, bits of redstone dust covering his suit head to toe and smudged across his cheek almost every time Grian saw him. He told himself it was nothing, that he was worrying more than he needed to. But the less and less Grian began to see him, Mumbo always hurrying off with a forgotten chore he hadn’t completed, or another excuse that didn’t quite add up, the more Grian’s worry grew.

So he found himself standing outside Big Ron’s, wings twitching agitatedly. The moon had risen hours ago, streetlights giving off a warm glow. The city should’ve been silent- but that lab, the one Mumbo swore wasn’t important,”It’s just holding an XP farm, Gri.”, was still aglow, sharp white light flowing out the windows in the distance. 

Stepping closer, he could hear the quiet hum of machinery, the building practically vibrating with life. Gears on the outside clanked together, generating power for whatever was inside of it, and Grian could’ve sworn he’d heard the familiar crackle of electricity inside. He stood at the large metal doors that led into the building, though they seemed to be rusted shut, ruddy brown edged along the sides. Another sign that Mumbo hadn’t been in here in ages.

Grian wanted desperately for him to be telling the truth. For all of this to just be in his head, that maybe Mumbo was just stressed, or something else entirely. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. And that frightened him more than he cared to admit.

Grian flew along the building, looking for a way in, finding an open window leading into a sterile white room. Taking a single breath before he lost courage, he flew in, claws skidding on the tile floor, and he fell face-first against the tile.

“Great job, Grian.” He muttered to himself. “Now you’ve done it.”

Almost as if on cue, the motion in the building seemed to pause as Grian readjusted himself, walking towards the door, talons clicking against the cold ground. He paused, holding out his hand right above the doorknob, before twisting it and gazing out upon a long beige hallway, with doors on either side. The stark white light he’d seen outside bled underneath the final door. Careful to not make a sound, he took a step forward, only for the door to be flung open, revealing Mumbo holding out what looked to be part of a rusted pipe.

“BACK  OFF!” Mumbo said, his voice fierce, but wavering. “I HAVE A WEAPON AND I’M NOT AFRAID TO USE IT! WHAT ARE YOU- Oh….Grian?”

Grian flinched backwards, before taking in the sight of Mumbo. To say he looked awful would be an understatement. Harsh lines drew across his forehead, suit wrinkled and ripped in places, hands calloused and scraped. But most astonishing to Grian were his eyes- a dark, almost soulless onyx, behind them someone Grian almost didn’t know. 

“...Mumbo?” Grian asked tentatively, taking a step towards him. 

His figure deflated at hearing Grian’s voice, and he ran a hand through his now peppered hair. “Hey.”

“Are you….you’re not okay.” Grian stated, taking in the sight of him. “What’s going on?”

Mumbo tried to smile, but it came out broken, more of a grimace. “I’m working on something new. Something no one’s done before.”

Grian rolled his eyes, “You’re always doing that, Mumbo. There’s something different this time. All these secrets, these- these late nights, your hair? Please, I- I want to help.”

Mumbo sighed, his eyes shifting to the floor. “I’ve been dreading this moment for months, you know.”

“What moment? Mumbo-”

“I- I’m getting older ever faster now, and I-” He paused, eyes watering, “I have to say goodbye.”

Grian stopped, eyes wide. “Wh- what?” His next words came out broken, trapped in his throat. “You’re- leaving me?”

“Well, I-” Mumbo started.

Grian’s eyes welled up, “There’s- there’s got to be another way, Mumbo, I can’t- you can’t leave.” 

“Grian, I’m-”

“After everything? I get you back just long enough to hug you goodbye before you leave all over again?” Grian swallowed, tears flowing rapidly down his cheeks. His mind was stuck on the loss he had felt before, how broken and unsure, his other half ripped away from him, leaving him bloodied and scarred. 

And Grumbot. The anguish he had felt, how he didn’t know how to express himself, he was just a machine after all, but no, he was so much more. My Grian was sorry too.

Grian’s knees went weak as he shook, his gaze holding strong on Mumbo’s, though he was now just a blur. His voice shaking, raw, he gasped, “I need you, Mumbo.” 

Mumbo swallowed, and Grian saw the Mumbo he knew, his Mumbo, return, uncertainty and concern in his dark brown eyes. “I- I don’t know what to say. I-”

Grian ran towards his best friend and squeezed. One hand around Mumbo’s back, scrunching into his suit, the other making its way into his hair, and he held on to Mumbo like he wasn’t going to be there tomorrow- for all Grian knew, he wasn’t. 

He buried his head into Mumbo’s chest, breathing in the smell of smoke and dust and Mumbo, his tears staining the torn suit jacket. Mumbo lay his head on top of Grian's, a hand rubbing his back soothingly, engulfing him. 

“It’s okay, mate. I’m not leaving you. Shhhhh…I’m right here. I’m staying right here.” Mumbo murmured as Grian shook, though his breath began to slow.

When he’d collected himself, Grian pulled back from the hug though made sure to still stay close, his hand grabbing Mumbo’s to make sure he wouldn’t disappear. 

“So what’s this about then?” Grian asked, his voice still raw.

“I- I’ve never been happier here.” Mumbo began, “Well…maybe not as much recently, but I needed to make sure it was finished in time. I didn’t ever want to leave you or the others, or this place- honestly, it’s probably one of the things I’m proudest of. So when this company called Mined reached out, asked if I wanted to work on a new invention I- I said yes. I built the lab, a scientist came over, and he told me something I thought impossible. A way to make immortality not just science fiction. A way to stay here, forever.” 

Grian stayed quiet, watching the way Mumbo’s eyes lit up when he talked about his town, about the hermits, about him. 

“And so I began working on it.” Mumbo continued, “And it had some- unforeseen consequences as we went through the trial and error phase. And it had to be top secret, so I could only really use myself as a test subject so- I started getting older, faster. And so now my time is ever closer, but we’re so close, just a day or two away from getting this right, and then I’ll be okay. But this is why it has to be finished. And all the secrets I’ve been keeping. And I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” Grian said, sounding confused, “That’s all well and good- well, it’s not and I have words for whoever decided to make you the test subject but- what does this have to do with saying goodbye?”

Mumbo flinched a bit, though he didn’t drop his gaze from Grian’s eyes as he spoke. “The immortality…you transfer your consciousness into a chicken.”

Grian cocked his head, a laugh forming in his throat as he grinned. “A- a chicken?” 

“Yeah. Just like you, ey?” Mumbo smiled softly, jabbing Grian playfully, “‘The man in the chicken costume.’”

“That’s not me!” Grian exclaimed, feathers ruffled. “I can’t believe you’d try and accuse me of something I very much didn’t do.”

“Yeah right.” Mumbo said, laughing, before swallowing, the smile slipping off his face. “But…well. I have to go through with it now, because who knows how much longer I’d have left if I didn’t. Weeks? Months at best? But I- I’m not sure I want to leave you in that way. I haven’t been for a long time- that’s why I’d been dreading this conversation.”

“We’ll find a way to bring you back.” Grian said confidently, “I promise. You’re basically the smartest person in the world, and I’m like- the best at redstone, obviously, and if we can’t figure it out together I’ll make those “Mined” people regret they ever met me.”

Mumbo grinned. “I love you, Grian.”

“I love you too, Mumbo.”

Mumbo's pokemon team coming later today :D

[awstrainingtipsandtricks]

What is the first step in getting started with AWS?

The first step in getting started with AWS (Amazon Web Services) is to create an AWS account. Here's a step-by-step guide on how to do that:

Visit the AWS Website

Open your web browser and go to the official AWS website: https://aws.amazon.com/

Click on "Create an AWS Account"

On the AWS homepage, click on the "Create an AWS Account" button. This will take you to the AWS account creation page.

Choose Your Account Type

You will have two options:

Root User: This is the primary account holder and has full control over billing and account management. You can sign up as the root user or delegate account management to others later.

IAM User: If you want to set up separate accounts with limited permissions for different users or applications, choose this option. However, you'll still need to create a root user account first.

Follow the Sign-Up Process

Fill out the required information, including your email address, password, and AWS account name. This account name will be used as the account alias.

Provide your contact information and agree to the AWS course in Chandigarh Customer Agreement.

Payment Information

Enter your payment information. AWS requires a valid credit card to verify your identity. However, some AWS regions also accept alternative payment methods like PayPal.

Identity Verification

AWS may perform an identity verification process. This may involve receiving a call from AWS and entering a verification code on the phone.

Choose a Support Plan

You will have the option to select a support plan. AWS offers a free Basic Support plan, but you can also choose a paid support plan for additional benefits and technical support.

Complete the Sign-Up Process

Once you've provided all the necessary information and selected your support plan, click "Continue" to complete the sign-up process.

[sanchomps]

doom eternal being so obsessed with face reveals they forget the captivating mystic of leaving the helmet/hood on and letting people fill in the gaps with their imagination

[meowmedusa]

looking at the clock and going "oh. i didn't. even realize it was past 8pm." and its not funny or cool its just unbelievably concerning

[kthologue]

then and now — gojo satoru

synopsis. only satoru gojo would be jealous of himself.

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, mentions of pregnancy, time travel inaccuracies probably, not proofread :x

you’re not quite sure how you ended up here.

one minute, you were curled up in bed, fighting a wave of nausea courtesy of the growing child of the strongest inside of you. the next, you were wandering toward the kitchen, wondering what was taking your husband so long to bring you the damn breakfast he promised — only to find him standing rigid in front of the stove, staring down…

himself.

you blink.

twice.

“satoru, what’s taking so long—”

your voice dies in your throat the second your eyes land on him. no — not him, but a younger, wide-eyed, hopelessly awe-struck version of him. standing in your kitchen, mouth parted, face pale, and gaze locked entirely on you.

you freeze.

he stares.

you stare back.

and then—oh no—he starts to smile. bright. dopey. disbelieving. there might actually be drool.

the younger gojo looks at you like you’re made of stars and everything he’s ever wanted in life, and you’re only in your husband’s oversized tee shirt. 

he looks like he’s about to fall in love with you on the spot.

then comes your gojo.

he appears behind you like summoned by jealousy itself, pressing flush against your back, arms encircling you. his chin hooks over your shoulder as he narrows his eyes at his teenage self with all the warning.

“oi,” your husband growls low, “eyes off my wife, you brat.”

the trance breaks instantly.

“what the hell—she’s my wife too!” younger gojo snaps, voice cracking in disbelief.

“like hell she is,” your husband shoots back, his hand sliding possessively down to cradle the swell of your belly. “i put a baby in her.”

you choke on air.

teen gojo’s eyes drop down—

—and bug out.the younger gojo is practically gaping, his eyes wide in disbelief, as he stares between you and your husband. "y-you let this man impregnate you?!" he blurts out, the crudeness making you flush with heat.

you feel the immediate rush of embarrassment. “i—how— satoru, explain.”

both of them whip their heads around at the mention of his name, as if they were no more than dogs waiting for a command.

your husband rubs your back, “i guess my younger self must have managed to travel to the future.”

you’re gaping at the two men.

the younger version of him is practically wagging his tail, a wide grin tugging at his lips like he’s just won first place in something that actually mattered. he looks completely lost in his own world to understand his future self’s subtle jab, and you could swear you hear him whispering under his breath, breathless and giddy—“i did it, i did it, i did it.”

“ah,” you slowly try to rationalize. “satoru, i know this might seem strange, but—”

“no, no,” your husband cuts you off with a tight squeeze around your waist, leaning slightly into you. “i’m satoru. he’s just gojo.” his tone makes it clear who he thinks should have the honor of the name, but his attention never leaves his younger self, and the muscles in his jaw are flexing.

the younger gojo squints, confused, then his face contorts with a mix of irritation and amusement. “since when did i become so uptight?”

your husband snorts. "yeah, well, you have a lot of growing up to do."

the younger gojo mutters, crossing his arms and leaning back, his posture almost defensive. "i get it. you put on the blindfold and suddenly you're mr. 'i've got it all figured out.'"

the tension in the room thickens, palpable between the two men.

"yeah," the older gojo retorts, voice steady but tinged with a bit of pride. "and i also got the girl of my dreams."

the younger gojo’s eyes narrow, his voice rising, "she’s my dream girl too!"

the older gojo shifts, locking his gaze on his younger self. his expression hardens, becoming a little sharper. "she’s my wife. not yours."

you sigh, exasperated, stepping between them. “oh, for heaven’s sake. you’re both the same person. you’re arguing with yourself.”

younger gojo leans forward slightly, eyes fixed on you. “i could love you just as much as he does, you know.”

your husband scoffs, clearly unimpressed. “please. you don’t even know what to do with her yet.”

“try me.”

“enough!” you snap, your glare cutting through the air like a blade. there’s no mistaking the warning in your eyes, a silent promise that things are about to escalate if they don’t stop.

both satorus fall silent in an instant as they both straighten at your words.

“me and the baby are starving,” you declare, your tone laced with a hint of challenge. “and if neither of you plans on helping, i guess i’ll have to do it myself.”

the younger satoru’s eyes flicker to your growing belly, then back to you.

in an instant, they’re both at your side, moving in synchrony like two halves of a whole, each hand hovering near you, as if they could protect you from something, but you know the truth. it’s not about protection. it’s about proximity—about the excuse to touch you.

“you know,” the younger satoru murmurs, a playful glint in his eyes, “you’re even more beautiful now. who would've thought you could get hotter?”

your breath catches at the unexpected compliment, and before you can stop it, your cheeks flush, a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the heat of the room. “t-thank you,” you mutter, not quite looking at him, trying to hide the effect his words have on you.

your husband, who’s been standing just behind you, makes no attempt to hide his irritation. his gaze sharpens, but his voice remains smooth, controlled—too controlled. “it’s no surprise, of course,” he says, his hand sliding around your waist in a possessive gesture, pulling you a little closer, a subtle but undeniable claim. “you’ve always been breathtaking. she’s glowing, don’t you think?”

you feel his lips brush against your temple as he says it, and though his words are directed at the younger satoru, they’re meant for you—just the two of you, wrapped in this small, intimate moment. his grip tightens ever so slightly, a silent declaration of ownership that you can feel in your bones.

“thank you, dear,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, but there’s a flicker in your chest that betrays you—something more than just appreciation for the compliment.

as you open the fridge, you don’t notice the younger gojo’s subtle frown at the pet name, nor the way your husband’s chest puffs just a little, satisfaction practically radiating off him. but you do feel it. the electricity. the unspoken challenge. and you can’t help but wonder which of them will break first.

the clink of chopsticks and the sound of your satisfied hums fill the room as the three of you eat breakfast, the tension at the table simmering beneath the surface. the younger gojo eyes the older version of himself from across the table, suspicion flickering behind his sharp gaze.

he sets his bowl down slowly.

“so tell me,” he says finally, chopsticks tapping against ceramic. “how’d you do it?”

the older gojo raises a brow. “do what?”

younger gojo tilts his head pointedly in your direction. “get her. my [name] doesn’t want to do anything with me.”

your husband doesn’t miss a beat. he smirks, annoyingly smug, and drapes his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side like a trophy. “i charmed the living daylights out of her. obviously.”

you give him a flat look. 

your husband ignores you. “she thought i was endearing.”

“i thought you were desperate,” you add with a sly smile.

he turns toward you, hand over his heart like he’s been shot. “desperation? is that what we’re calling devotion now?”

“you were on both knees when you proposed,” you point out, smug.

“i really wanted you to say yes,” he mutters, now clearly sulking. he stabs at his food like it personally offended him.

across the table, the younger gojo leans in, chin propped in one hand as he watches the two of you. there's something soft in his eyes now, envy tempered with awe. 

“don’t listen to him,” you say with a playful smile, your gaze softening as you turn to your husband. “i only gave you a chance when i realized how big your heart is. how much you really care. your dedication to reshaping jujutsu society—that’s what made me see you weren’t just a nuisance.”

both gojo's eyes widen in shock, clearly not expecting that.

your husband, though, pouts, his usual smugness replaced with playful mock hurt.

“aww~” he whines, a teasing lilt to his voice. “i think you’ve got a little crush on me!”

you narrow your eyes, a warning simmering beneath your words. “satoru, i’m about to bite your head off.”

he grins, leaning in with that signature mischief. “don’t threaten me with a good time.”

the younger gojo’s eyes dart between the two of you. perhaps his future wasn’t too bad.