#i learned that one piece is actually not finished yet

[doyouknowthisdisabledcharacter]

Do You Know This Disabled Character?

At the moment, Roronoa Zoro from the live action version counting is debatable. Vote how you see fit if you only know him from the live action version.

Roronoa Zoro is visually impaired and has various scarring.

[jeneveuxrein]

kiss and make up (BLACKPINK Rosé)

word count: 10.1K

(posted right when the clock hits midnight in seoul, i hope everyone enjoys)

tw: brief depiction of sexual assault and actual assault

-- -- --

You watch her slip her dress on, blonde hair swept to the side as she reaches for her zipper. 

“Let me,” The blanket slides down your stomach, resting on your waist as you sit behind her. You slowly bring the zipper up, kissing her softly on her shoulder as she straightens the fabric. “Do you have to go?” You murmur, lips tasting her skin, the audible sigh coming from her body. 

“I do,” Rosie nods, straightening her hair to fall freely along her back. Her head turns slightly, “You know I can’t stay. He’s expecting me.” 

“Are you going to have sex with him?” The question comes out harsher than you intended. 

“Stop,” Rosie scoffs, shaking her head as she stands. “We haven’t done that.”

Yet, you add quietly for her in your head. 

Neither of you say anything else as Rosie reaches for the ring on the nightstand, slipping it on her finger. 

You’d love nothing more than to toss that offending piece of jewelry into the Han River. Hell, you’d fly over the Pacific Ocean and drop it where no one could find it. 

Because if Rosie was ever going to get a ring, it was supposed to be from you. 

“Are you going this weekend?” Rosie asks, placing your clothes on the bed. 

You nod reluctantly, as if you had a choice about the event taking place this weekend. 

It’s the annual gala for the wealthy and affluent of Seoul. Your family along with Rosie’s are attending. Her father will be saying a few words, which you’re sure that his youngest daughter’s engagement will be announced as well. 

“You’re not going to leave him, are you?” It’s a rhetorical question, one you wish had a different answer. 

“It’s not that simple,” Rosie rolls her eyes. You’ve known her long enough to learn her tells, and this being one that she’s tired from having the same conversation.

“It’s been a year,” You point out, reaching for your shirt. “You’re engaged now, Chaeng. It seems pretty clear that this isn’t going to continue.” 

The thing with you and Rosie is that neither of you wanted to be in this position. You were born into this, this being a stupid rivalry between your fathers. You were raised to hate each other, attending the same schools, competing for the top of the class while juggling the pressures from the public eye. 

Being part of Seoul’s elite made you want nothing more than to leave as soon as you finished at one of the most prestigious universities in the country. You wanted to live abroad, working for someone without having your last name be the reason you were hired. 

You couldn’t, as much as you tried. You were set to inherit the family business, even though your older sister, Jisoo, was much more capable and wanted to. The multiple arguments you’ve had with your father fell on deaf ears because you were the only son and naturally, you were next in line. 

Rosie, on the other hand, wasn’t set to inherit anything except for a cushion that would support her for the rest of her life while her older sister, Alice, ran the company. 

It wasn’t easy for her either since her father wanted Rosie to marry someone of equal status, ultimately expanding the Park name into other industries. 

When Rosie was introduced to Wonwoo, you knew that was who her father had in mind. 

God forbid it be you. 

As much as you two acted like you hated each other growing up, one night after a charity event three years ago was where things unfolded. 

Having drunk a little more than usual at these types of events, you confided over the shared misery of your families and why everyone just couldn’t get along. Besides that, you found out how much you had in common, sharing the same interests and similar values that sparked what led into something that neither of you were prepared for. 

You don’t remember who kissed who first, but that didn’t matter since you both ended up in your bed, spending the night together and realizing that this was the person you wanted to spend all your nights and mornings with. 

You’re in love with Rosie, and she’s in love with you. 

It’s tragic, really, at the end of the day. 

Neither of your families would approve. The media would have a field day if the secret, forbidden relationship got out. You’ve imagined the headlines countlessly throughout the course of the relationship of how the media would tear you apart about two major business conglomerates’ children dating.

If not them, then your parents. 

The only people that know of your affair are your siblings, Jennie, and Lisa. Though, the relationship between the latter have their own complexities that you couldn’t fathom. 

“What’re you saying?” Rosie asks, crossing her arms, even though she knows exactly what you’re implying. 

“We can’t do this anymore,” You say softly, tears pricking your eyes. It kills you to say that out loud, but that’s your reality. You might be meant to be together, but there’s too many things weighing on you that you don’t think you could survive. Hearing Rosie publicly engaged to Jeon Wonwoo is at the top of the list.

“What?” You’re not surprised by her reaction. You’ve had a soft spot for her and she’s always gotten her way with you, but seeing that on her finger changes things. “You can’t be serious.” 

“I am,” You frown, avoiding her gaze. Sure, it’s a bit messed up after what you just did together, but it’s even more messed up that Rosie showed up at your apartment right after Wonwoo proposed. He’s too smitten to believe that she was going to get drinks with Lisa, celebrating the engagement.  

(You absolutely knew that if you just proposed to Rosie, you’d be balls deep in her as soon as you were inside the car.) 

Wonwoo’s not a bad guy, just collateral in this fucked up situation that he has remained blissfully unaware of for the past year and a half. How oblivious could he be that you’re the one Rosie fucks on the regular, screaming your name as she tells you how much she loves you, is something you didn’t understand. 

You’re selfish, wanting her all to yourself, reminding her night in and night out that she was yours as much as you were hers. 

When you meet Rosie’s eyes, you almost fold. She looks like she’s about to tell you off, but you watch as she slips into the cool demeanor she carries whenever she’s in a board meeting. That very same demeanor that made her into one hell of a lawyer. 

“You know we can’t keep doing this,” You say honestly, “Wonwoo’s respectful, but I’m sure at some point soon, he’s going to want to make the relationship official.” In a way that you and I do, You think bitterly, biting your tongue. 

“Right,” Rosie nods, a tight smile forms on her face. “So this is it? I get engaged, fuck you right after, and you’re now ending things.”

You want to argue. You want to say something like how she agreed to date-date Wonwoo while actually being in a relationship with you. It might’ve been for appearances and to please her father, but you both know that what you were doing was wrong on so many levels.

“I guess. I love you, I want to be with you, but you’re engaged. It changes everything.” She knows things will change once this engagement goes public. 

Rosie doesn’t say anything else, nodding before walking out of your room, out of your apartment. 

Out of your life? 

You hoped not, but you’ve never had any control of your life to begin with. 

-- 

“Stop moping,” Jisoo hisses, forcing a smile when another executive walks by, briefly stopping to shake both of your hands. 

“I don’t want to fucking be here,” You smile, nodding politely as you greet the wife of said executive. 

You’ve been quietly arguing with Jisoo since you arrived. Thankfully you didn’t share a car together because that would’ve given you a headache.

Your sister knows what happened. She pounded on your door an hour after Rosie left because allegedly the woman you’re in love with called her, in tears and distraught, telling her how you ended things. There was one missing vital piece of information that wasn’t shared—something you had to tell your sister, softening as soon as the words fell out of your mouth. 

“We have, like, ten more minutes of this before you can wallow away at the bar,” Jisoo nudges you with an elbow once your aunt and Jennie approach. 

You give the two women a hug, commenting on their appearance because they are Kims after all. Everyone in your family looks good, and Jennie tells you so too.

“Wow, oppa,” Jennie gives you a gummy smile, straightening your bow tie after she hugs you. “You’re actually dressed up for once.”

“Not in the mood, Jen,” You say flatly. Jennie takes a second look, and her eyes narrow. 

“What happened?” 

“Not the time nor place,” You wave at a bunch of people you don’t recognize. All for show, their faces blurring together as they pass. “She didn’t tell you then.”

Jennie stares at you, waiting. When you remain stoic, she rolls her eyes, walking away to most likely find the woman in question. 

“You really shouldn’t have said that,” Jisoo warns quietly, elbowing you in the side a little harder. 

You don’t bother engaging with your sister anymore, just saying hello and answering any questions that people ask you as they walk by. It’s mechanical for you, something you’ve spent years perfecting on how to appear to people when you honestly couldn’t care about all this. You’d give it all up if that meant you could be with Rosie.

These past few days have been absolute hell for you. You’re pretty sure your body’s going through shock. You feel it in your chest anytime your mind so briefly thinks about her. You’ve dated before Rosie and heartbreak has never felt like this. 

When you see the next family approaching, you automatically smile. Jisoo notices your face light up, which she scoffs because she isn’t exactly the biggest fan of who you’re smiling at. 

“Hi Nayeon,” You ignore your sister, beaming as the eldest Im stands in front of you. She smiles, that same toothy one that you’ve teased her countlessly for over the years since it makes her look like a bunny. 

“Hey,” Nayeon chuckles, shaking her head as she goes in for a hug. You do her one better and wrap your arms tightly around her waist, nearly lifting her feet off the ground. She lets out her boisterous laugh, hitting you on the shoulder. “Put me down!”

You’re laughing, actually giving a genuine smile, as you do what she says. You keep your arms loose around her. Anyone passing by would think you’re together, which you do hear them commenting on how close you are. 

“If either of you want to make headlines this evening, please for the love of god, stop,” Jisoo mumbles, shaking her head as she greets Nayeon’s sister. 

“We’re just having fun, Sooya,” Nayeon rolls her eyes, taking a step back before sending you a wink.

“Yeah well, the night’s going to get more interesting,” Jisoo tilts her head toward the entrance. “The Parks are here.” 

You don’t want to look, but you can’t help yourself. Your gaze lands on Rosie. She looks absolutely stunning, wearing a strapless white gown that hugs her body perfectly, hourglass figure and all. It reminds you of a wedding dress, and something inside you breaks when you see Wonwoo right behind her. 

“Wow, Chaeyoung looks gorgeous,” Nayeon comments. Her sister nods approvingly while you don’t miss the concerned look on your sister’s face. 

You excuse yourself without waiting for any of the women around you. You beeline straight for the bar, needing something to ease the tightness in your chest. Hearing the crowd murmurs of Rosie and Wonwoo don’t help either. You even catch someone mentioning the ring, causing you to pick up the pace. 

Lisa intercepts you when you’re a few feet away, “Hey,” Her hand wraps around your bicep, stopping your rendezvous with a bottle of scotch. 

The brave face you put on at the beginning of the night cracks and she gives you a sympathetic smile. If there’s anyone Rosie would confide in, Lisa will be at the top of the list. 

“Hi Lili.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lisa asks politely, gently guiding you towards the bar, the grip on your arm strong enough to keep you from running in the opposite direction. 

“Not entirely,” You shrug, but not enough to shake her arm off. 

Lisa doesn’t push, which is one of the many reasons you consider her a close friend. Aside from the fact she’s secretly dating your cousin, she’s someone you trust. Even though Lisa’s a foreigner, she blends in well with this crowd, and that’s saying a lot. Everyone’s aware she’s not Korean by any means, but she’s networked enough that she has a seat at the table. The relationship she has with all of you have helped too, something she acknowledges, but it’s all her. 

Once you reach the bar, you pull out the chair for Lisa. You get teased a little for acting so gentlemanly since your relationship with her has always been platonic—for obvious reasons. 

“You haven’t spoken to her.” 

“Of course I haven’t,” You nod when the bartender brings over your glass of whiskey. You take it one go. The usual burn doesn’t faze you as it travels through your body.

“She misses you,” Lisa says casually behind a wine glass.

You scoff. Your temper flares because while it could be true, there hasn’t been any moment since you last saw Rosie that she let you know how she felt. You’ve laid it out to her that you’d give up everything if it meant you could be together, but she was scared. 

“She wants to be with you.”

“Sure she does,” You answer sarcastically. “If she did, we’d be engaged. Probably married by now.” 

“Come on, don’t be like this,” Lisa shakes her head, placing her empty wine glass on the counter. 

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up before you could respond. You’re suddenly hyper aware of someone’s presence behind you, that you don’t need to turn around to see who it is. 

“Hi,” You hear Rosie greet softly. 

Lisa turns around first, standing to hug her best friend. You don’t make any moves to engage, at least not without signaling to the bartender for another drink. He’s in front of you, giving you a heavy pour before moving onto the next person. Without waiting, you take the drink in one go again, the liquid amber burning stronger than the first. 

Slipping on the mask you had when you arrived, you turn to face the two women. “Chaeyoung,” You nod, acknowledging her for the first time this evening. It’s a low blow to call her by her Korean name because she’s reserved her English name just for you. “You look great,” You say with an easy smile. 

There’s more you want to say, like how she’s beautiful and all that, but you don’t think that’d be appropriate given the time and place and circumstances.

“Thanks,” Rosie says quietly, the smile on her face hardly reaches her eyes. “Can we-”

“I’d love to stay and chat, but you know, duty calls,” You interrupt, scanning the room for anyone to pull you out of this conversation. Ironically, your gaze meets Nayeon across the crowd, waving you over. “My presence is needed,” You tilt your head in Nayeon’s direction. Rosie’s eyes narrow when she sees who’s exactly demanding your presence. 

That’s a whole other story because you’re all aware of the crush Nayeon’s harbored for you over the years–something that peeved Rosie knowing that your mother’s approval of her if something were to happen. 

But maybe it was time for you to move on. 

“Have a great night, Chaeyoung,” You bow slightly before sidestepping around Lisa. “Congrats on the engagement, by the way. Wonwoo’s a lucky guy.” 

You don’t bother waiting for her response, walking away before you could hear it. 

Each step away feels heavier the farther you go. Every nerve in your body screams at you to turn back around. 

You don’t. 

--

You tend to sneak away in events like this. It’s a habit you developed as a teenager when high power executives and the like would talk to you about things you had no interest in. 

That’s how you end up on the outdoor terrace. It’s empty aside from a couple members of the event staff taking a smoke break, but they don’t pay you any mind, too engrossed in their own conversations about the worst person they’ve interacted with so far. You know that they’ll be back to work in a few minutes. 

You lean against the railing, letting the crisp cool air invade your lungs as you stare at the city skyline. It sobers you up just a bit, but you’ll admit you’re drunk—more than what your mother would deem appropriate at an event this big. 

You have to thank Nayeon for your current state. She immediately knew something was off after you left Rosie and Lisa at the bar. She didn’t ask, but she offered to ditch once the speeches were over. You compromised, only wanting to stay for the foundation’s before Rosie’s father spoke. She understood without question. She didn’t prod as to why specifically before that speech. 

The sound of heels coming to a halt behind you breaks you out of your thoughts. You sigh because there’s only one person that knows this habit of yours. 

“What do you want?” You ask without turning around. 

“Can we talk?” Rosie asks quietly that it forces you to turn around. 

“Okay, go ahead,” You cross your arms, jaw clenching as you try to control the wave of emotions crashing through you as you stare at her. 

“Let’s go somewhere more private, please,” She reaches for your arm, but her hand drops when she hears the quiet chatter from the staff a few feet away. 

You relent, pushing yourself off the railing as she walks back inside. You have no choice but to follow her, and you’re on edge when she chooses to walk into a private bathroom. 

Once the door shuts, you hold your breath, the tension between you much more obvious in an enclosed space. You feel suffocated by being this close to her when all you want to do is pull her against you.

“What do you want, Chaeng?” Your shoulders drop, the mental and emotional exhaustion catching up to you. You’re tired and just want to get as far away from this, from her, to think clearly. 

“I…I don’t know,” Rosie looks away, leaning against the marbled counter as the door holds you up. 

“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” You gesture to the space in between you. “If anyone sees us together, we’re both screwed.” 

You watch her move, something brewing beneath as she keeps her eyes on you. She walks toward you, bringing her arm back. Your head tilts in question as her dress slowly slides down her body. 

“Chaeng,” Your voice comes out low, hoarse as Rosie reveals what’s underneath–a white lace corset with the matching bottoms to go with. For how long you’ve been together, she knows your weaknesses, and if she had the garter belt, you would’ve taken her right there. 

She planned this. 

“What?” Rosie stands in front of you, keeping the smallest bit of space in between you that any movement, her body would be pressed against yours. 

“You’re engaged,” A strong reminder more to you than her. Your hand twitches, but you keep it at your side, not wanting to give her the upper hand. 

“I’ve told you time and time again, it’s not that simple,” Rosie leans forward, her breath ghosting over your lips. “What’re we supposed to do? Just leave everything behind?” 

“Yes,” You shake your head, frustrated. It’s the same conversation you’ve been having with her since she started public dating Wonwoo and it’s still not sinking in that you’d make it work. “It’s not like we don’t have connections outside of our family to support ourselves.” 

“You think too much,” Rosie rests her weight against you. Your cock stirs at the contact. “I love you, you know this. Is that not enough?”

“Chaeng,” You gulp when her hand slips in between your bodies, palming your cock over your slacks. You’re naturally conditioned to react to whatever Rosie does to you, big or small. She could tie her hair in a ponytail and you’d immediately get hard at the sight. “You know that’s not what I mean.” 

“Then what?” Rosie drops to her knees, her eyes demanding your attention. 

You grit your teeth as she undoes your belt. Her hands deftly work to unbutton your pants, tugging them down as she pulls your cock out. “What’re you doing?” You groan, head falling back against the door, the sensation of her soft hands wrapping around your girth.  

“Are you complaining?” Her tongue sticks out, licking the tip before she kisses the same spot. Her hands were doing wonders on you as all the blood in your body rushed south. 

“You know I’m not,” You moan as she takes you fully into her mouth, hollowing out her cheeks. You glance down, which is a mistake, to a filthy sight of your length halfway in her mouth. 

“Then shut up,” Rosie takes a breath, pulling back slightly before repeating the motion. Her hands weren’t idle, stroking at a pace that spread her saliva along what wasn’t in her mouth. 

You obediently listen, biting your lip to cover your moans as she goes lower with each movement. 

You don’t know what came over her. 

That’s a small lie. You could assume what spurred this. Besides your feeble attempt at ending things a few nights prior, Rosie seeing you interact–flirt–with Nayeon would be at the top of the list. It’s not like she would outright admit that she gets jealous because she’ll swear up and down she doesn’t, but you’ve been with her long enough to know how possessive she gets when it comes to you. 

Your hand finds her hair, gently rubbing her scalp as she continues her ministrations. The moment you tighten your grip to increase her pace, she stops all movement. She lets off your cock with a resounding pop before standing up. 

“We have to be quick,” Rosie mutters, standing to turn, and walks to the counter before stepping out of her thong. Your eyes never leave her form, watching her expression darken in the mirror. She bends slightly, shaking her ass in front of you. 

You’re a simple guy. Naturally when a woman as gorgeous as Rosie offers herself up to you, you can’t exactly say no. You’ll deal with any ramifications later, but right now the only thought coursing through your body is to fuck her, and fuck her hard. 

“We’re not supposed to be doing this,” You say, even though your hands grab her waist to steady you both. Her bare bottom presses against your very erect cock, the length in between her cheeks. You see how much precum leaks out of the tip as she tries to get you inside, missing completely. 

“You’re clearly not stopping. We don’t have much time,” Rosie moans softly as your length rubs against her clit. 

You shake your head, meeting her gaze in the mirror, a fiery look set in her eyes. You feel something weighing on your shoulders because you said you were done.

“Just fuck me,” Rosie demands and one of your hands drop, gripping your cock.

You tease a little, rubbing the head against her opening. She’s absolutely drenched that you slide right in.

Both of you moan, her eyes rolling back at being filled. You clench your jaw as she takes you in, the inner muscles tightening at the sudden intrusion. Once her bottom presses against your pelvis, you take a breath, needing it so you wouldn’t cum right away. 

Based on how her pussy keeps contracting, it won’t take you very long. 

“Hurry the fuck up,” Rosie hisses, and you pull your hips back before thrusting again. “I need your cock now.” 

You set a quick pace, watching the sight of your cock disappearing in and out of Rosie’s body. You stifle your moans by resting your chin on her shoulder, biting down as she lets out a gasp with every movement. You realize she’s getting louder, the pitch getting higher. You did not need anyone walking in, especially since you didn’t lock the door.

Your free hand snakes around to cover her mouth, but Rosie surprises you when she pulls your hand to her throat, your fingers encircling her neck. 

Rosie nods, giving you the green light, as your fingers gently squeeze. As soon as you do, her pussy tightens more and she pushes her hips into yours, meeting every thrust as the skin slaps. You knew her body well enough that she was close, especially the right angle to hit her sweet spot as she rolls down and along your length.

“I’m not going to last,” You whimper, panting against her ear. 

“Inside,” Rosie gasps out, back arching as you lose your rhythm. Her orgasm triggers yours, causing you to thrust wildly, pounding, stretching, and the grip on her neck tightening. Her hand clamps on your forearm, loosening the hold as you paint her insides white. 

You lose focus for a second, mind going blank as Rosie’s pussy rhythmically squeezes your cock, milking you for everything you have. 

You didn’t know how long it had been. It could’ve been five minutes or five hours, but your cock softens as you slip out. You kiss the back of her head, as both of you catch your breath. 

You don’t get the chance to see your cum flow out of her because her back straightens. Rosie turns, her chest against yours, arms resting loosely on your shoulder. Her fingers play with the hair on your neck while she stares up at you. She kisses you softly on the lips, smiling, before leaning against the counter. She keeps you close, spreading her legs  that you slot perfectly in between as she gently pecks your cheeks and jaw.

It feels different to be with her like this. 

You know what you’re doing is wrong on so many levels, but she’s your greatest weakness that you couldn’t resist her even if you tried. 

“We should go back to the party,” Rosie mumbles, nipping at your bottom lip before letting out a sigh. 

“Sure, whatever you want,” You honestly wanted to go back to your apartment and just cuddle, but you couldn’t exactly leave without drawing attention or questioning from your parents. 

“Seriously, we should go,” Rosie makes no move to leave. Instead you feel her tongue in your mouth. 

“Okay,” You nod against her mouth, which is also doing wonders, tempting you to go for another round.

Rosie pulls back, kissing you sweetly one last time. Her hand taps your shoulder, and you automatically step away, instantly missing her because you don’t know when, or if, this is going to happen again.

It’s a familiar sight as Rosie picks up her clothes from the floor. She fixes her hair, straightening the strands as best she could. You pulled your pants up, tucking your shirt in while she washed her hands. 

“You should probably wait a few minutes after I leave,” Rosie says softly, wiping her hands before bringing her gaze to you in the reflection. 

You agree, nodding, as the reality of what just happened sinks in. 

No other words are said as you watch Rosie open the door, poking her head in the hallway as she checks if the coast is clear. Before walking out, she says, “I love you.” 

-- 

One moment you’re chuckling at something Lisa says as she and Nayeon follow behind you. Nayeon invited Lisa on the way out as the speeches were commencing, which based on how it was looking with Jennie for the evening, Lisa made the decision to leave as well. She said she’d tell Jennie to meet after. 

The next moment you hear someone in distress around the corner. Your pace slows when the women bump into you. 

It takes you a split second before you realize that the person in distress is Rosie.

Wonwoo has Rosie pressed up against the wall, her leg straining against his as you notice his hand squirming to get in between her legs. 

“Oh no, I’ll get security—Wait!” Nayeon gasps quietly behind you, but you hardly hear it because in the next moment, your feet move on their own accord and you swing your fist at Wonwoo, knuckles hitting square in the jaw and knocking his balance for him to get off of Rosie. 

You think you hear Rosie scream, but you tune everything out because you’re pummeling him into the ground. You don’t care if you’re making a scene. There was absolutely no way in hell you’d ever let something like this slide with any woman, but the fact that it’s Rosie, the woman you’re in love with, all bets are off. 

It isn’t until a few moments later, someone grabs you by your blazer, tearing you off Wonwoo, when everything equalizes. You hear Rosie crying behind you with Lisa trying her best to console her. Your hands ache as you open your fists, a searing pain along your knuckles. The grip on your blazer slackens before you realize it was Rosie’s father—Mr. Park himself—that pulled you off.

“What the fuck is happening here?” His voice comes out stern. 

You notice the security guards tending to Wonwoo, whose face is covered by his hands, blood smeared all over his skin. 

You’re going to be in deep shit from your parents, but you didn’t give a fuck. You would’ve killed him if no one stopped you. 

“Mr. Park,” Nayeon interjects and you see a police officer next to her. Said police officer is her uncle—the police chief of Seoul. “We saw Wonwoo forcing himself on Chaeyoung. I went to grab security.”

A multitude of emotions cross Mr. Park’s face and you’ve never seen him angry before, but this would probably be the first time. It’s terrifying. 

He doesn’t respond to what Nayeon says, walking over to where Wonwoo is. The Jeon heir looks up as Mr. Park says something to him none of you can hear when his eyes widen, desperately shaking his head, as he loudly apologizes. 

“Oppa, let’s get you cleaned up,” Nayeon suggests, a loose hand wraps around your forearm.

You nod numbly, avoiding Rosie’s eyes as you walk by. Lisa’s still comforting her when Jennie and Jisoo rush over. 

“Why are your hands covered in blood?!” Jennie freaks out, hand covering her mouth. 

“Later, Jennie,” Nayeon pulls you away as a crowd starts to form, hiding you as best she could before anyone notices.

Nayeon leads you out of the building, forcing you to sit on a bench as she makes a phone call. She lets you know she’s calling her driver to take you home, but it doesn’t process as your blood’s still boiling over what you witnessed. 

You have half the mind to go back inside and continue with your fists, but when you go to stand, Nayeon’s pushing you down. “No,” Nayeon says firmly, “Sit your ass down. You’re not going back in there.” 

“But-” You try to speak for the first time since. 

“Absolutely not.” Nayeon glares. “My uncle will take care of it. Leave the rest to them.”

“Fine,” You pout, rolling your eyes. 

Nayeon keeps her gaze on you as she speaks with her driver. She ends the call, “Habin will be here in about ten minutes.” She sits next to you, crossing her legs as she stares at you curiously. 

After a few seconds too long of feeling uncomfortable, you can’t take it anymore, grunting out, “Stop.” 

“I’m not doing anything,” Nayeon says, shrugging, but you can sense the curiosity getting to her. 

“You’re staring.” 

“Would you believe me if I told you you're hot?” There’s a teasing tone in her voice that has you rolling your eyes. 

“No.” 

“Well you are,” Nayeon chuckles, “But that’s not why I’m staring.” 

“Stop beating around the bush, ask what you want.” 

“How long have you and Chaeyoung been seeing each other?” 

The question catches you off guard. Of all people, Nayeon was the last one you expected to pick up on your relationship. Jennie told you that Nayeon was sharp, having a good intuition about things, and you should’ve believed her. 

You go straight into denial, “What? Rosie and me? That’s absurd.”

Nayeon clicks her tongue, a satisfied humming sound leaves her throat, “Rosie?” 

Shit. 

None of Seoul’s elite refers to Rosie as ‘Rosie.’ In business meetings with foreign companies, yes, but in a casual conversation like this, no. 

You sigh dejectedly. There’s no point in denying it. Nayeon wouldn’t believe you either way. 

“A little over three years,” You confess, head dropping into your hands. 

“Assuming her parents didn’t know their youngest was already in a relationship before Wonwoo?” Nayeon asks, hitting it right on the money. 

“They did not,” You confirm, nodding in your palms. 

“Wouldn’t approve, eh?” She’s right again as you grunt, taking that as an affirmative. “Well, I hope things work out in the end. If this doesn’t prove to Mr. Park you care about his daughter, nearly killing someone, then he’s an idiot.” 

You actually smile.

-- -- 

It’s Monday and you’re not in your office. 

Your assistant, Mina, texted you early this morning that you were to report to the Park’s building for a meeting with the CEO—Rosie’s father. You tried to get out of it, calling her as soon as you read it, but she couldn’t do anything. Your father specifically, borderline demanded, requested that your morning be cleared for this. 

You hadn’t spoken to your parents since the gala. They blew up your phone as soon as they realized you left and after finding out what happened, thanks to Jisoo tipping you off about the flurry of messages and calls coming your way. You turned your phone off the following day, taking a much needed break from everyone. You didn’t hear from Rosie, which you were glad because you couldn’t face her. You were ashamed of getting violent in front of her. She didn’t need to see that side of you, but you couldn’t help it because it was her that was in danger. 

You don’t regret it one bit though. You’d do it again without hesitation. 

So here you are, waiting awkwardly in the seat as Mr. Park’s secretary types away at the screen. 

When you arrived, she didn’t say anything to you except to have a seat and Mr. Park will be with you shortly. 

You have no idea if you’re in trouble. The police didn’t show up at your place the day after, so you could safely assume no one was pressing charges. You do want to know what he said to Wonwoo that had him begging for forgiveness. 

You haven’t seen your parents either. You’re under the assumption at least one of them would be here, but Mina herself didn’t know when you asked. 

The office door opens and when you look who it is, it’s your father, motioning you to come in. 

You bow when you stand, walking inside the office to Mr. Park leaning against his desk. He gives you a gentle smile when he sees you. 

You automatically notice Rosie sitting off to the side on one of the couches near the window. She averts her gaze when she meets yours, something deflating inside of you. 

“Please,” The Park patriarch gestures to the seat in front of him. “Sit.” It’s not a demand, but there’s no question you won’t do what he says. 

Your father takes the seat next to yours, clearing his throat, “Chaeyoung told us some things this morning.” 

You brace yourself, not sure which direction this conversation was going to go. You and Rosie never discussed what you would tell your parents, so she could have literally said anything. 

When you don’t respond, your father continues, “It’s been brought to our attention that you’ve been actually dating for the past three years. Is that right?” 

You nod, waiting for the pin to drop. 

It never does because Mr. Park says, “Thank you for protecting my daughter.” 

Uh?

You laugh awkwardly, hand reaching to scratch the back of your neck, “Yes, of course, sir.” 

“No, you don’t understand. My daughter was engaged to him, and he’s disgusting,” You’ve never heard such contempt from someone. “If I actually announced their engagement while he tried something like that, it would look bad and my daughter would be stuck with a monster.” 

“What he’s saying,” Your father can tell you’re confused, “Is that if you and Chaeyoung decide to be together, we approve. Your mother’s very proud of you for being quick to stop something bad from happening, though a little scared what would’ve happened if no one intervened, but regardless, it’s okay.” 

Your shoulders feel so light after hearing those words come out of his mouth. You nod in understanding, doing your best to keep your composure.

“We’ll let you be. We have lunch to go over some things,” Your father says, a gentle hand squeezes your shoulder. 

Mr. Park’s hand’s in your face, forcing you to shake it as you stand up, bowing graciously as they walk out of the room, leaving you alone with Rosie, who still hasn’t looked you in the eye since you walked in. 

Once the door shuts, you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“Rosie,” You say softly, but she still doesn’t look up. She keeps her eyes focused on the floor. You roll your eyes, walking to stand in front of her, kneeling to be in her line of sight. “Chaeng.” 

“I’m sorry,” Rosie’s lips quiver, tears visibly forming in her eyes. “I should’ve called you yesterday, but my mother and Alice took me out of the city. I was so shaken up.” 

“Hey, hey,” You reach for her hands, kissing them softly to soothe her worries. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay. We’re okay. You’re okay right?” She nods solemnly. “Then don’t worry.” 

“I should explain-” Your index finger presses against her lips. 

“No need,” You brush off casually. You didn’t need to hear it. There’s a high chance you’d just get riled up having to hear about it. 

“I was breaking up with him,” Rosie mumbles against your finger. “I started to walk away so I could tell my father when he, he-” Her voice cracks.

You move swiftly, wrapping your arms around her as you pull her into an embrace, gently soothing her arm as you kiss the top of her head, “Baby it’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here.” 

“I love you,” Rosie cries into your chest, burying her face into you as her body shakes against yours. “I’m sorry it took me so long.” 

Words aren’t needed. You hug Rosie tighter, silently promising to never let her go. You can’t change what happened, but you can control what happens next. 

“I love you,” You whisper against her temple, kissing softly as she breaks down in your arms even more. “Is it a bad time to ask you out?”

Rosie shakes her head, giggling through the tears, “Like on an actual date?” She lifts her head, a watery smile painted on her face. 

You nod, lips curling up as you wipe the tears away.

“Yes.” 

-- -- 

You hang your arm loosely around Rosie’s shoulder, waiting for your driver to pick you up to take you home. She laughs at something Jennie says, but you’re hardly paying attention to their conversation. 

Your mind is preoccupied on other things.

It’s Rosie’s birthday and Lisa rented out a club in Hongdae to celebrate.

It’s been a few months since that night. Rosie and you have had to learn how to navigate your relationship in the public eye. Aside from many gossip columns speculating about the sudden romance, there have been numerous business analysts forecasting a merger between the families.

Which your father has told you would happen if you were to propose to Rosie in the future. 

Something that you want to do now, even though Rosie thinks it’s best to wait a year for the sake of appearances. 

“Oppa,” Jennie whines as Lisa holds her up, the effects of alcohol hitting her and the woman next to you. “Let’s go to one more place! I’m hungry.” 

“Go to McDonald’s,” You roll your eyes, irritated with your cousin.

You want to spend some time with Rosie, alone, because of the little stunts she’s been pulling throughout the night. 

She’s been relentlessly teasing you, drifting her hand on your thigh, even brazenly palming you over your jeans underneath the table while the cake was brought out. 

You did your best to keep a straight face through it all, but it was hard when she asked you to dance with her friends. You usually shied away from any public displays of affection besides holding hands, but you couldn’t resist her. 

Especially with the way she was dancing on you.

“Baby,” Rosie pouts, looking up at you. “Can we go with them?”

“Chaeng,” Your jaw clenches, sending her a pointed look. 

“Oi,” Lisa laughs. You see her shaking her head in your periphery. 

“Please,” Rosie ignores her friend. She even makes her lip quiver, that you have no choice but to say fine. She claps her hands excitedly before giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek. “I’ll make it up to you,” She murmurs against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“It’s your birthday,” You clear your throat. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever?” Rosie leans back, raising an eyebrow. 

You nod hesitantly. There’s a mirthful gleam in her eyes that whatever you had in mind, she has something else. 

-- 

Rosie’s lips move slowly against yours, tongue dipping in and around your mouth that has every nerve firing. Your hands tighten on her hips, guiding her movements, even though you’ve been powerless since you arrived back at your place.

There’s too many things going on at once that have you blanking out. The only thing you can remotely focus on is the sensation of her slick over your cock. 

It’s been torture watching, feeling, Rosie grind herself on you without letting you inside. You’re not sure what her end game is, but you’re dying for something other than this. It’s hot, no shit, but you’ve been on edge the whole night that you’re almost ninety-nine percent sure the moment her walls touch your length, you’ll bust. 

“God,” Rosie moans against you, body shaking, and it’s orgasm number two for her without any relief for you. 

“Baby, please,” You whine, hands gripping her waist as she starts moving again. You’re at the point of begging. 

Rosie’s hands are on your chest, pushing herself up. You make the mistake of glancing down and your cock’s nestled in between her lips, covered in a light sheen from her orgasms, and there’s precum leaking from your tip. 

“What’s wrong?” The teasing tone in her voice as you watch her swirl her hips in a circle has you hypnotized. Your cock brushes against her clit and you swear you feel her pulse. 

“Why are you being a fucking tease?” You groan, head thrown back as she continues to rub herself along your length. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rosie murmurs, placing her hands on your abdomen. 

After a few more minutes, your tip brushes against her opening. She lets out a surprised moan at the unexpected intrusion. Much to your dismay, she doesn’t take you in. 

“Chaeng,” You inhale sharply. “Seriously, come on.”

Rosie hums, clicking her tongue as if an idea just came to her. 

“What if I got pregnant?” 

What?

“Like, can you imagine? My father would probably kill you,” Rosie says casually when you don’t respond, too stunned by her question. “You’re practically throbbing down there.”

It’s not like it hasn’t crossed your mind. You’re definitely going to propose to Rosie when she thinks it’s the right time. You’ve talked about having kids, something you couldn’t care much for, but she’s thrown around the idea of it. If you wanted kids, you’d want her to be the mother. 

Though, the process of having kids is what gets you the most. 

Something Rosie knows absolutely gets you wild, nearly feral at the thought of filling her m as much as possible. 

“Chaeng,” Your voice is low, hands stopping her movements. “Is that what you want? You want me to fuck a baby in you?” 

“I mean,” Rosie shrugs, casting her hair behind her back, “Wouldn’t that solve the problem?” 

“What fucking problem?” Your patience’s running thin as your hips involuntarily roll up. 

“You know, the one where girls think you’re still single, even though all of Seoul should know you’re taken,” Rosie rolls her eyes, and her attitude is pissing you off. 

Your mind replays every situation, every interaction you had tonight. Mostly everyone that was there was your friend. There were a few people you knew of, but didn’t engage with them as much since they were more Rosie’s friends than yours. 

Nothing stands out, except for one. 

A light bulb goes off in your head because Rosie doesn’t get jealous, per say. 

Possessive is a better word to describe it. 

While Rosie was off taking shots with her friends, you were idly sitting at the table, waiting for Jungkook and Minwoo when a girl you didn’t know walked up to you. You weren’t sure if she was Rosie’s friend, but when she introduced herself as Chaewon, you knew what she wanted and you were her target for the night. 

You generally don’t entertain women when they come up to you, but Chaewon had disarmed you easily, charming you with a coy smile and flirty glances that you completely missed the daggers Rosie was sending her and you across the room.

The moment immediately passed as soon as Rosie plopped herself on your lap, crossing her legs in between yours, before kissing you heatedly that by the time she took her lips off you, Chaewon disappeared. 

It paints a clearer picture why Rosie’s suddenly dangling pregnancy in your face. It’s more for her to claim you than anything. 

“Is that what you want?” You sit up, wrapping your arms around her body. Kissing her softly before murmuring, “You want people to know who I belong to?” 

“I’m sure people know,” Rosie whispers seductively, “But it wouldn’t hurt for them to know that I’m the one that you can’t keep your hands off.” 

“Baby, I’m sure they know,” You smile against her lips. 

“Well,” Rosie huffs, too distracted by the way you move your mouth over hers, tongue finding its way in between her lips. “I want them to know for sure.”

“Then let me fuck you baby,” Your hips roll up, brushing against her clit as she moans. She shakes her head, gently pushing you to lay back.

Rosie’s hand slips between your bodies, a light grip encircling your cock as she aims the tip to her opening. She gently slaps the head, catching her clit in the process, before settling at her entrance. 

“Rosie,” You grit out, eyes locked on your cock in between her folds. 

“Watch me,” Rosie positions herself, careful not to slide you in just yet, placing her hands to balance on your cock. 

It’s something you’ll never tire of, no matter how many times you and Rosie have sex—and it’s a lot. 

Her hips swivel, adjusting, as she slowly drops down, your cock disappearing in her body. You’re engulfed by her heat, her walls stretch to accommodate your size, and you see stars as your eyes roll back. 

“Baby,” Rosie’s voice cracks, “Eyes on me.”

Your gaze falls back to your cock gone, completely sheathed by her that she uses her inner muscles to squeeze. You can’t help but thrust into her, jolting her body as her breasts bounce. 

“Nope,” Rosie clicks her tongue, shaking her head in disappointment. “Hands here,” She places them in the divot where her legs meet her hips, hands over yours as she slowly rocks her hips. 

“God,” She chokes out, “We fuck a lot, yet it’s always so much.” 

You don’t have any words because you’re too blissed out by her movements. Any coherent thoughts are out the window because she’s right. 

It is so much. 

You’re lost in her that your eyes roll back once she moves up carefully, methodically, before dropping her hips over you, repeating the motion that has you gripping her thighs roughly. 

“Imagine,” Rosie says lowly, looking at you through hooded eyes, “If you did get me pregnant. Just me carrying your child because you couldn’t help yourself. The media would be all over us.” 

Her words trigger a memory of the first time you and Rosie had sex, deciding together to go without a condom because she was safe and she trusted you enough. You don’t think you’ve ever fucked anyone like you fucked her.

“Baby,” You can’t control the moan that falls from your lip after a hard drop. “Don’t.” 

“What?” She stops her movement, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t want to? You’re the only guy I’ve ever let cum inside me.” 

“Jesus fuck, Chaeng,” Your hands drop from her hips. “You’re a fucking—”

“Tease? Slut? Whore?” Rosie swivels her hips in a figure eight, cutting you off. “It doesn’t matter what anyone calls me. I’m yours.” 

You have no control over your body as your hips move on its own accord, meeting every one of her gyrations with precision. 

“Come on,” Rosie goads, bending forward to kiss you briefly on the lips, “You don’t want everyone to know that?” 

Of course you do. People do know that Rosie’s yours, but the love bites and the like don’t compare to her being pregnant—the ultimate claim. 

In a quick move, keeping your cock in between her legs, you reverse positions, and Rosie’s on her back. 

“God yes,” Nails digging into your shoulders as you slide your length from her warmth before snapping forward. 

You buck into Rosie, thrusting wildly as the need to breed her takes the forefront of your mind. The thought of her belly swollen has you nearly going feral. 

You try to lean back, wanting to see your cock spearing through her walls, but her grip takes her with you. You watch as she rolls her body in waves, mesmerizing you as your cock moves in and out. Your hand splays over her stomach, and you could be imagining it, but you swear you feel your cock hitting her front walls. 

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Rosie taunts, eyes barely open with a dopey smile on her face. 

You grunt, too engrossed as she leans back, one hand on your shoulder as the other rests over your hand. Her breasts bounce with every thrust, bouncing rapidly on your cock like she’s in heat. Your thumb sneaks down, slipping underneath her hood to rub her clit. Her eyes widen before a sudden pressure grips your length. 

Rosie screams as her orgasm rips through her body, back arching as she pushes her chest forward, before convulsing, spasming all over you before you feel your cock getting forced out. A stream of clear liquid expels from her, drenching your crotch and thighs. You groan at her squirting because it’s happened before, but holy shit this feels more intense, more primal as you watch her eyes roll back at the pleasure consuming her body. 

She lets go, body falling limp on the bed as you stare at the woman you love in complete awe. Her pussy’s soaked, hole pulsing as she swings her leg over you, rolling onto her stomach. 

Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, but you’re surprisingly still hard, that you can’t wait. You move her legs with ease, straightening one and slightly bending the other before settling between her legs. 

“You didn’t cum?” Rosie asks, surprised, voice shaking as you aim your cock at her opening again. 

“No,” You’re able to answer before sinking in, engulfed by her heat once more. 

It won’t take you very long because you’re rutting into her like your life depending on it. Hips rolling after every thrust has your stomach tightening from your impending orgasm. 

“You fuck me so well,” She moans uncontrollably, sobbing into the pillow as she continues to babble nonsense, hands balling into the bedsheets.

You’re hardly paying attention to what she’s saying as you watch her ass ripple with every thrust. Your hands grip her cheeks, spreading them wide to her puckered hole.

“Would you let me fuck your ass?” You ask, absentmindedly massaging the muscles. She doesn’t need to answer because her body does for her, her walls tightening at the question. “That’s a yes,” Chuckling as you save that for a later time. 

Rosie mumbles something into the pillow that has you leaning forward, pressing your cheek against hers. 

“What was that?” Hips never ceasing as they continue their onslaught, slamming in and out. 

“Daddy please. Cum inside me.” 

You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried. 

The word had never been used before, but it sparked something dark in you. Your hips stutter, breaking your rhythm, after one, two, three thrusts you explode inside of her, painting her inner walls that trigger another orgasm from the woman wrapped around your cock. 

“God—shit, fuck,” You lazily thrust inside her one more time before groaning against her hair. 

Your cock twitches as her velvet walls keep contracting, draining you for all that you have, making sure you don’t leave her empty. 

You move her hair to the side, exposing her neck and back, placing soft, tender kisses—a stark contrast to what you were just doing to her—all over her skin. You don’t want to pull out, too comfortable with her snug warm walls, and you’re almost certain she wouldn’t care if you stayed inside her, too cock drunk to even notice.

Rosie lets out a pathetic whine as you regretfully pull out. Your cock’s covered in your shared fluids as her you take a good look at the mess you made. You notice a dribble of cum ooze out of her lower lips, and just to fuck with her more since you’re a little shit, you use your finger to push it back in. 

“Hey,” Rosie moans softly as you deftly massage her walls, spreading the load. “Too much.” 

You nod, removing your finger, but not without brushing over her clit. She weakly slaps you away as you chuckle, dropping your weight next to her. She immediately turns to face you, pulling you into her and throwing a leg lazily over yours. 

You bask in the moment, letting the endorphins release as you listen to Rosie sigh contentedly. 

“You’re not serious about getting pregnant, right?” You ask, slightly nervous as the post-orgasm clarity hits. 

Rosie giggles, shaking her head as she looks at you, “You really think I’d go off birth control without talking to you?” 

Smiling sheepishly, “I don’t know. It just caught me off guard.” 

“Sorry, just felt extra attentive for you tonight since it was my birthday,” Rosie kisses your jaw. 

“Do you mean jealous?” You quip, which earns you a light slap on the chest. 

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, I don’t get jealous,” Rosie pouts all cutely that you chuckle. 

“I can’t help that I’m such a hot commodity,” Another slap. 

“Yeah well you’ve been off the market for almost four years, you think I’m going to really let some girl get to me?” 

“I’ve had to go on dates with people my parents set me up with. How do you know I didn’t sleep with them?” You tease, earning a pinch this time. 

“Because you literally came over after every single one,” Rosie rolls her eyes. “I’d remind you that there wouldn’t be anyone else, don’t you remember?” 

The few dates your parents forced you to go on resulted in some of the hottest sex you’ve had with Rosie. You remember vividly the things she did so you never had to think twice about being with another woman. 

It’s making you hard again at the memory. 

“I feel you twitching,” Rosie smirks, shaking her head. “Let’s sleep first, okay?” 

“Fine,” You pout. Though, you have one more question. “One last thing?”

Rosie hums, snuggling into the crook of your neck.

“Marry me?” 

Rosie pulls back, gaze meeting yours, searching your face for an answer she only knows. “You’re serious this time.” 

“I’m serious every time I ask,” You scoff. 

“No, but this is different,” Rosie sits up. “Do you have a ring?” 

“In my sock drawer, all the way in the back,” You answer simply. 

You watch her slide out of bed, walking to the dresser. She slips on one of your old university shirts from when you studied abroad before digging through the mentioned drawer. She pulls the small velvet box out before joining you on the bed. 

“How long have you had this?” She asks softly, staring at the box. 

“Honestly?” Rosie nods. “Two years. Lisa’s the only one that knows. Jennie might, but if she does, she’s never said anything.” 

“You were that sure about us?” Her voice trembles as she looks at you. 

“Yeah.” You didn’t know what was going to happen back then, but all you did know was that you wanted to be with Rosie. You would’ve given everything up right then and there if your parents didn’t approve. 

You still would. 

“You’re a big softie, you know that?” Rosie smiles. 

“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone. I have an image to uphold.” 

The small box is placed in your hands, and Rosie gives you an encouraging smile. 

“You sure? Didn’t you want to wait a year?” 

Rosie shrugs, “It was advised by Alice, mainly because it was already a big deal that two rivaling companies’ kids were dating that she suggested waiting was the best for the news outlets to cool down. But at this rate, I don’t think I could wait.” 

You open the box, the diamond shining brightly in the low lit room. 

It’s a fond memory of how you picked this ring, mainly because of the woman you took with you. She dragged you to five different places, even suggesting flying to Paris since she had connections there. You argued that leaving to Europe would raise suspicion to Rosie. Lisa pointed out some ostentatious design with diamonds around the band would be the best, which the jeweler agreed—most likely wanting to get a bigger commission. You shook your head, opting for a simple solitaire, a three-carat diamond that still had a hefty price tag. 

You take a deep breath, smiling at the woman in your bed, unshed tears in her eyes. 

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes. A thousand times yes,” Rosie cries, throwing her arms around you as she pulls you into a heated kiss. 

You drop the box, uncaring about where it goes. Your hands find themselves on her hips, lifting your fiancée onto your lap. Neither of you are clothed from the waist down, and you’re surprised with how wet she is. 

“Already?” You murmur against her lips. 

“Shut up,” Rosie breaks the kiss, embarrassed as she buries her face into your neck. “Can’t help it,” She sucks lightly, marking your skin. 

“What about sleep?” You moan, rocking her body along your hardening cock. 

“Later,” Rosie mumbles, “I’m engaged. Let me celebrate, daddy.” 

You groan at the new nickname, earning a giggle. 

“Who knew you had a daddy kink,” Rosie teases, kissing you on the lips again. “I probably have a praise kink.” 

“Be a good girl for me then,” You say, easily slipping into character. 

“It’s not hard to be,” Rosie trails her lips along your jaw, peppering kisses as she slyly slides her hand in between your bodies. “Especially with a cock like this,” She sighs as she slowly strokes your stiffness. 

“I love you,” You tilt your head back as she moves herself lower, eager for whatever she has in store.

“I know, I love you too, my fiancé.” 

-- -- --

[alicenpai]

my piece for the Hemisphere: a Witch Hat Atelier seasons themed zine! thank you for having me! they're having a leftovers sale until stock runs out 🖋🍀🌷🍁❄🌧 WIPs + inspiration board + symbolism under the cut! got some requests to put this on my inprnt! the site has sales very often & you can grab it as a small or big size print.

I had a pretty good idea of the composition from the get-go. I took inspiration from art nouveau (primarily Alphonse Mucha), German fairy tales, and some 1920s perfume ads. I wanted the girls to look like fairies, akin to The Root Children by Sibylle von Olfers.

Olly just didn't work out in this drawing due to time restraints. I do love him very much though.

I actually kinda stopped making illustrations like these (including the TGAA/DGS tarot card + TGAA/DGS zine pieces a while back) because they were starting to get very hard on my arm, as I had an RSI (repetitive strain injury) a few years back during school. (Not putting the onus on the zines at all ofc! I genuinely love working with zine projects! it's def a me thing WAHAHAHA. my style was getting too anime and too detailed for my liking and everything was just taking forever to finish ngl. but I didn't have time to experiment with a more simple style outside of all of my deadlines)

I think that realizing you need to stop is okay. It's something that Shirahama teaches us in her story and I want to learn to take it to heart.

---

MILD SPOILERS AHEAD (for those who havent read the story I guess)

each character's symbolism:

- Coco - spring, clovers - Coco is the quintessential spring girl, and I wanted her to symbolize new beginnings, and oh boy did Coco bring a big one. The four leaf clover in particular symbolizes luck and good fortune - to some characters, Coco may have brought fortune, to others her presence brings misfortune, take that as you will.

- Tetia - summer, gladiolus - the name "gladiolus" comes from the Latin word "gladius", meaning "sword", based on the shape of the flower. you can interpret it as "you pierce my heart", perfect for a girl like Tetia, who has a contagious energy, with a romantic and grandiose nature.

- Agott - autumn, marigold - I read somewhere marigolds symbolize strength and power, perfect for our little magical powerhouse Agott. They can also symbolize jealousy (yellow flowers in particular have this association), which reflects on her rivalry with Coco in the beginning.

- Riche - winter, snowdrop - The white color of snowdrops has a strong connotation to innocence, which reflects on Riche's wish to stay a child forever. It can also symbolize rebirth and new beginnings (like Coco's clovers), as the snowdrop is the first flower to bloom in the spring, when the snow has not yet melted. I wanted the concept of "rebirth" to associate with Riche's friendship with Euini, and of his sort of "rebirth" into a new being.

- Qifrey - he does not have a flower per se, but as the caregiver and educator of the four girls, he represents the rainy season - precipitation being the one thing that binds all of these seasons together. (Note some areas of the world do not have a rainy season like where I live). I think somewhere along the line I wanted to put hydrangeas behind him, to really bring out the "rainy" theme, but the thought probably got lost somewhere in translation...

- bg flowers - honestly I just picked whatever. white lily, daffodil, hydrangea, zinnia, tulip

[wandasfifthwife]

(6) said that we were done but you’re all up on me ***** | I got a bad idea series

—> masterlist

southern!wandanat x fem!city-girl reader

tw: SMUT MDNI, top wanda, top natasha, bottom reader, strap in v (r receiving), oral (w&r receiving), fingering (r receiving), they’re complete southern horn dogs in this (5 times… yikes oopsieee!!), shorter chapter (this is just smut basically)

a/n: piece of shit writing but I hope u enjoy. also SAVE A HORSE RIDE A WHAT?? (Don’t be fooled nobody rides anyone in this chapter)

You fell asleep soundly, wrapped up between the two. It was wonderful. Something you told yourself was a one time thing. You had your fun last night, tested the waters, but now it’s the next day. They apologized last night for being rougher than they had hoped to be, mentioning something about not doing that again. You assumed not again in general.

Four times. They took you four times in a day. Worst is? You were begging them to.

First time was that morning. Wanda was downstairs, eyes watching the pan on the stove when you wondered in. She had greeted you with a smile, opening an arm to hug you into her side. It seemed innocent enough until you woke something in her by kissing her shoulder.

You were slung onto the counter, legs wrapped around her head and a hand tangled in her hair. She worked her tongue into you, circling it around your clit making you cry. You were beginning for her to let you come, tugging at her hair when she turned to bite at your thigh.

“Be good,” was the only thing she told you before sending you over the edge. Pressing a small kiss to your clit before reaching to actually kiss you. All done while the food finished cooking.

Second time consisted of Wanda having a field day strapping you. Ass up, hands tightening their hold against the bed to try and push back against her thrusts. You made a pitiful sound when she stopped, grinding back against her length.

She slapped your ass playfully but you reacted much worse, pushing further back until Wanda moved with you. She picked up a pace again, rocking into you with a hand on your hip. The sheets below you grew dark from how soaked you were. It slid down the backs of your thighs, beginning to drop onto their white bed sheets. Wanda didn’t care, if anything, she pushed harder until you were whining her name.

Third time was you turning on Wanda. She had her hair up, reading emails on her laptop. You had finished yet another shower after you two dogged it out on their bed just over an hour ago. She hadn’t been receiving anything and you felt bad, coming behind her and talking about it for a minute.

The conversation ended with you between her legs. She still sat at the dining room table because you didn’t care to move elsewhere. You creeped on your knees, spreading her and learning about what she liked.

She preferred you to flatten your tongue, pressing it against her. She would moan at the feeling of your tongue entering in her. It was enough to make you wet again, snaking a hand down to try and relieve yourself at the same time.

She came so prettily, lips agape but no sound coming out. You felt her clench, body aching from the pleasure floating through her. She praised you, a smile on her that pleased you.

Fourth time was your fault. You weren’t subtle when Natasha came back. The screen door swinging shut caught your attention, leaving Wanda behind to run down and greet her with a kiss that stole her breath away. She returned the enthusiasm, pressing you between the wall by the door and her body.

She told you all about how she thought about you at work. Spilling her mind on how she can’t get enough of you, tongue spreading on your nipple making you gasp the way she liked.

Natasha pushed you onto the couch arm, your body hanging over the side uncomfortably but you didn’t care. You never wanted her to stop, the feeling of her sliding in and out of your walls never failed to push you into a headspace that you’ve grown all too familiar with.

You were bent at an awkward angle but it felt better. Natasha didn’t think too much of it, snapping her hips into yours. You grabbed between the couch cushions for purchase, moans loud and luring Wanda to come downstairs.

The day after you woke up with a small limp in your step. It became obvious when you tried to use your left leg, hip jerking from how sore you were. You felt like a different person took over yesterday, every bone in your body crying out for them. Now you’re pushing them off with a complaint, telling them you’re too sore. They only do it to bother you, you know that, but you feel if you have them leeway they would pounce.

You were determined you were done. Everything was saying you were. Your apparent limp and the spotty light bruises were dead giveaways that you needed rest.

Natasha had been outside, her body leaving the bed early that morning to feed the horses. You stayed behind, falling back asleep peacefully. When she got back, she had walked straight into the bedroom. The water turned on, sounds of it hitting the floor making its way into the bedroom where you laid. You had a show on but lost attention when she came walking in.

You said it was because you missed her, but the way you were pressed up against the shower wall said otherwise. Wanda was asleep in the other room, so you pressed your lips over hers to quiet them. She took whatever you allowed, giving it back to you completely.

Her fingers were deep in you, her voice teasing you. Telling you how needy you are for them, how you’re apparently worse than she is. You were sore, and overstimulated, but she could still work you up like it was your first time. Cunt still dripping on her fingers, a moan leaving you when she licked them clean after you were satisfied.

Five. Five times. You said you were done, they said they were too much, but you spent the day tangled with them. Their skin was touching you almost every second. Sitting by them after, laughing at the stories they told.

All the while, you’re laying with your hand in their hair, brushing it to soothe both you and Natasha. Wanda too apparently, the sight of you brushing out her hair having her spill on about a tangent they have often. You were sad to side with Wanda, saying she does look professional with her hair done.

“Betrayal.”

“I’m not betraying you, I’m helping and complimenting you,” you whine, trying to get her to face you.

“Help is a funny word put in that sentence,” she snaps back.

“No, please forgive me.”

She throws herself on top, heat crawling up your body from her added body warmth. You wheezed, begging Wanda for help but she focused on the book in front of her, a smile growing on her face from you two.

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[marvelsmylife]

Begin again

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Plot: Azriel grants you your wish of being left alone for a while. The second the times up though, he starts his plan to win you back.

A/n this is the last part to Damned if you do, Damned if you don’t story. I would like to remind you that my requests are open (please try to send in fluffy or smut requests. I need to chill out on angsty stories for a while 😂😂😂)

Warning: fluff

Part One Part Two Bonus Scene

Clinging onto the hope you gave him the night of the dinner party, Azriel gave you the space you asked for and settled with giving you three weeks. He was still a wreck during those three weeks, but he spent that time planning the perfect way to win you back. When the three weeks were up, he set his plan into motion.

It started out small. He was leaving you roses by your front door with a note that included a happy memory you shared. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the memories he wrote down, from the first day you met to the first book he ever bought you just because he saw it and thought you might enjoy it.

You couldn’t believe he remembered the tiny moments you shared together and started feeling bad that you had been ignoring him for two years. You knew that any other male would have moved on if they were in Azriel’s position. Yet he stayed loyal to you, and while he was over the top while he begged for forgiveness he never once stopped fighting for you or your forgiveness.

He then resorted to the one thing he told Cassian he would never do, writing poems for you. Granted, they weren’t that great when he started writing them, but by the sixth week, he had you swooning by the time you finished reading the poem.

The best part was that he actually got help from some of your students. Every day, he would approach one of them and ask if they could hand you the poem and give you a beautiful set of either earrings or a necklace. The students would be excited that the spymaster of the night court asked them for a favor and were more than happy to deliver the poem, along with a few jewelry pieces.

Azriel would watch from a distance as you read the poem and held the piece of jewelry against your chest.

The next thing Azriel did was stop by the old dance studio you attended and properly apologize to your old instructor. He apologized for his actions and explained what drove him to do what he did.

Azriel was surprised when your old instructor accepted his apology and told him he would let you know that Azriel apologized to him. Of course, Azriel told him he didn’t have to do that, that he did it because it was the right thing to do. “The apology might be two years late, but at least you did it. Most males would never apologize in the first place, let alone an Illyrian male.”

Even though Azriel told him he didn’t have to, your old instructor stopped by your studio and informed you that Azriel apologized to him: “He seemed so remorseful for his actions. Do you ever plan on forgiving him?”

“I already have,” you confessed and started playing with the necklace Azriel had gifted you a few weeks back: “The thing is, I'm scared that he is going to resent me again and take his anger out my studio because I built a career out of something I’m passionate about. I love teaching dance too much just to go back to being the spymaster's mate.”

“Why can’t you be both?” your instructor pointed out: “Be the spymaster's mate AND an amazing dancing teacher.”

You went home that night replaying the conversation and wondered if your old instructor was right.

His big move came six months later. He had gotten wind that you were now providing private lessons for fae’s who were too shy to learn around other people. They would have to pay in order to receive those private lessons, but they were reasonably priced.

You thought others wouldn’t want to pay for private lessons after attending your other classes for free. You were surprised when all of your openings for private lessons were booked for the foreseeable future.

You were getting ready to teach someone late at night when you spotted Azriel walking through the front door: “Azriel! What are you doing here? I have a private lesson in five minutes.”

“I’m the one who requested the private lesson,” Azriel confessed: “Teach me everything you know about the thing you love the most.”

A smile formed on your face at Azriel’s request, and you were more than happy to oblige. You started teaching him the basics and were surprised at how fast he learned to dance. “Look at you,” you beamed at Azriel: “You’ll be a better dancer than me in no time.”

“Not possible,” Azriel stared lovingly at you.

By the end of the lesson, Azriel had his arms around your body, holding you close to him. He was enjoying having you in his arms after being denied it for years. “I’ve missed you so much, my love,” Azriel spoke into your hair before getting ahold of your chin and making you look into his eyes: “I am nothing without you.”

Azriel found himself staring at your lips and was tempted to lean in and kiss you, but he didn’t want to overstep and potentially ruin all of the progress he had accomplished thus far.

To his surprise, you were the one that pulled him into a kiss. He didn’t complain. As a matter of fact, he took control of the kiss immediately and had you pinned against the mirrored wall. 

You let out a soft moan at Azriel’s action and found yourself pressing yourself against his body, desperate for his touch. “I really am sorry for all the pain I have caused you these past couple of years,” Azriel whispered as he cradled your neck: “I never realized how much I needed you in my life until you left me. I was such a fool for saying such hurtful things to you.”

A small smile appeared on your face at Azriel’s apology: “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear you say. Thank you for apologizing and for all the flowers and poems you’ve sent me these past few months.”

“Can you come home now? Our house is not a home without you in it” Azriel begged, his scarred hands were now tangled in your hair.

“Yes, I will come home,” you replied before a mischievous smile appeared on your face: “But what do you say we spend the night here, just for tonight?” Azriel was going to question why you would want to sleep in your studio when you tapped on the mirror behind you. “You have always said it would be nice to fuck in front of a mirror. Well, we have one right here.”

“Have I told you how much I love you yet?” Azriel groaned before leaning in and capturing your lips again.

A/n. Let me know if you guys would be interested in a bonus scene with the reader, Azriel, and that mirror.

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[thisismeracing]

Heartdresser | LH44

― Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x braider!reader ― Warning: mentions of a brother, social media au mixed with regular writing, tooth-rotting fluff, fem!reader (she/her); - 2.8k words + social media setting. ― Summary: When Lewis finds himself just a couple days away from a racing weekend and without his usual braids he desperately searches for suggestions of available hairdressers in the area. As the saying goes, love can come from the most unexpected places, and Lewis is about to discover that this is, in fact, true. (based on this request)

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Being a Formula One Driver had its perks, from obvious and big things such as traveling everywhere to not-so-obvious and small things like having your hair stylist travel to you when you needed them. After becoming an adult and famous, it took Lewis a couple of years to come to terms with his hair, how to style it, how to take care of it, and how to embrace the texture and volume. He felt finally whole when he reached that point, one where meaningless comments on the internet wouldn’t make him rethink his path, goals, and achievements. Of course, comments hurt, but being comfortable with yourself helped, and that was something Lewis learned. 

Now, his braids were part of him. The hairstyle being associated with his image in the blink of an eye. Something that made him feel handsome, and connected with his roots. Something that seemed to help other young black boys around, who started to see themselves as stylish and handsome too.

That’s the main reason why he was so frustrated when his braider called him to tell them they couldn’t make it to Las Vegas. And the thing with braids is that it's not only a style that connects you to your roots, and makes you feel comfortable, it is also a hair protection style. Though Lewis doesn’t tell people he has superstitions and somehow it is true, part of him feels like he races better when he’s feeling himself in all senses of the word. This means having his hair in the braids he’s been looking forward to for over two weeks is something important to him.

So in the heat of the moment, he decides to look for help on Twitter.

“Hi, you must be Lewis,” you smile, extending your hands, and the man in front of you takes it in with a grin. 

“Hey, good afternoon,” his grip is still thigh yet soft on your hand. “Yeah, it’s me. Thank you for having me on such short notice.” He’s handsome and polite in all the ways one should be to be considered perfect, and you start to understand why your baby brother was drawn to admire his persona outside the tracks. 

You shake your head with a chuckle, “It was actually my day off, but I had no problem fitting you in since it meant Dee would get to meet you.”

“Oh- honesty is something I find hot,” he chuckles and adds a grin for good measure, all while looking straight into your eyes and you can’t help but laugh.

Add funny to the list of things Lewis Hamilton seems to be. 

“Who’s Dee, by the way?” 

“It’s Aiyden, my little brother. I call him Dee,” you explain before adding, “He’s finishing a Chemistry project with a few friends at school. He was tempted to skip but gave up after a pep talk on how school is important, and I would take forever doing your hair just so he could see you.” 

Lewis nods while you explain, and then he’s chuckling just like minutes ago. 

“I don’t mind waiting for him with you,” he winks.

You’re not sure if he’s being friendly, funny, or flirty, but any of these F words coming from the black guy in front of you are surely making your heart skip a beat. 

“You can sit here while I grab everything,” you point to a chair in front of a big mirror and Lewis does as said. 

“Your hair looks fire,” he comments, watching from the mirror while you go through the small saloon gathering the packs of hair and combs you would need. “Did you do it yourself?” 

“Thanks,” you stop just for a second, smiling when your eyes meet. “And yeah, I did it just last weekend.”

“You look even more stunning with this style,” and just like that he has you giggling again. “I mean it. I saw your profile picture and I was convinced you couldn’t get more beautiful, and then you opened that door with a smile and these amazing braids and I was like wow.” “You’re a funny one.”

“I’ve heard some women like their man funny, is that your case? If so, I’m ready to get into stand-up comedy.” 

You double with laughter, shaking your head and biting your lips to keep the funny noises inside.

“Same style you’ve sent me the picture?” Lewis nods. “Any addition or preference?” you ask, starting to section his hair, and he answers no while making himself comfortable on the chair.

And even though you joked about taking forever just so your brother would catch Lewis, you ended up really taking forever because the driver in front of you would joke around and give you flirty comments and you couldn’t help but stop to laugh. The style he wanted was fairly fast, and his curls weren’t that thick, but still, you two did a small snack break when he ordered from a vegan bakery downtown. He was a fun guy to talk to, you came to learn that pretty quickly, which only added to his face card, which certainly was never denied. 

It was one of the best sessions you’ve had in a long time.

You were just finishing the final touches, adding water to boil, and cutting the small strands coming off the braids, when the bell over the door rang, announcing your little brother’s arrival. He has an incredulous expression on his face watching his idol sitting on the chair of his sister’s salon. 

“Hey man, how was the chem’s project?” Lewis asks and Aiyden turns around to the door, doing a small victory dance and, probably, the most hideous expressions to conceal his eagerness and happiness. 

You and Lewis laugh.

“Omg, hi, Lewis!” He finally walks to you, shaking hands with Lewis. His eyes – big orbs gleaming with excitement. 

“Aren’t you gonna say hi to your sister, young man?” with your hands on your waist you furrow your brows in the direction of the curly-haired boy who smiles, engulfing your body in a big hug. You hug him back before tapping his back and fake complaining about how he was crushing you. 

Aiyden had just turned fifteen, but his love for sports seemed to help him defy your DNA and grow more than your family’s average size. He was almost reaching your height, and he sure was stronger than you, but he was still just your baby boy. 

“These new braids are lit, man! Told ya my sister would make it happen,” Ayiden, who still has one of his arms around your shoulders, tells Lewis with a proud smile.

The driver moves his head confidently checking his hair in the mirror, “She was a great braider, and even better company, to be honest.” 

Yn rolls her eyes playfully before going back to the water and mentioning for Ayiden to take a step back. She dips the ends of the braids into the water, waiting for a bit before taking them off and draping a towel around Lewis’ broad shoulders. 

“So, your sister mentioned a chem school project. How was it?” 

And just like that Ayiden and Lewis are talking non-stop while you tidy the salon, watching their interaction with a fond smile. The Brit was attentive to your brother, always ready to listen rather than speak, always engaging, and making Ayiden feel comfortable to share whatever he wanted to. 

He probably had no idea, but that was an easy way to get to your heart. Ayiden was your treasure, and the fact that Lewis was treating the boy as if he was his little treasure too only added to the list of things you found amazing about him.

“...right, Yn?” Dee asked and you snapped out of your daydream.

“What?”

“Lewis just invited us to the Vegas GP, I said we were going, right? Please, please, please,” he pleaded in front of you with his two hands together as if in prayer, and you bit the inside of your mouth.

“Sunday?” 

“No, the whole package, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday!” he explained excitedly.

“It will be fun, c’mon,” Lewis tried.

“You have school on Friday.” You reasoned, but Ayiden was quick to explain that Friday wouldn’t be until 6 pm. “You’re the one asking Kali to get my appointments from Saturday,” pointing a finger to your brother you accepted, knowing that your friend and coworker, had a space on Saturday for a hair or two and wouldn’t mind covering so your clients wouldn’t be hanging out to dry. Still, she would probably huff and yapp before accepting. That was something that Ayiden would now deal with though, so you were all good. 

Ayiden jumped up and down the same way he did when he was ten years old asking you to get him a new pair of soccer jerseys, and you accepted. It was endearing.

You talked for a few more minutes, Ayiden got his picture, and just like that Lewis was saying his farewells. This time he didn’t shake your hands, rather hugged you and you couldn’t help but breathe in his scent and relish his warmth.

“See you on Friday, guys,” he waved, showing off his perfect set of teeth. 

“See you, man!” 

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yourinstagram had to drive the kiddo to school today or else he would stay home choosing his weekend outfits lol (traffic is a bitch btw, so if you can avoid downtown, pls do!)

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youngdee why would you expose me like that

⤷ yourinstagram I'm your older sister, ofc I'm gonna act like a mom ❤️😘

lewishamilton nice fit, ayideen!

⤷ youngdee thank you, man! 😎

⤷ fan4490 OMG KJSDKGJSKG

charleslechair she looks so cute

⤷ charleslechair scratch that I just went through her pics

⤷ charleslechair she's hot

⤷ charleslechair and super talented

wolffmickey so its confirmed, she's the braider?

schumachinho *on my knees begging* pls, do my hair too, yn, pls pls 🧎🏾‍♀️🧎🏾‍♀️

yourfriend I spent an hour on traffic today in a road that usually takes me about ten minutes 🫠

yourfriend2 bruh, ayideen is getting bigger and bigger, I feel OLD 😭

Friday rolled around quickly and you got to watch the total amount of fifteen minutes of practice 1 before all hell broke. Ayiden explained everything to you along with the whole controversy going on with the LA Gran Prix, which you were just a tad aware of. Lewis wasn’t able to spend much time with you guys that much was expected, but whenever he found a few seconds he would pass by, ask if you guys were ok, if Dee was having fun if there was something he could do, and just overall being the goofy Lewis he was during the appointment. Ayiden seemed to find the flirtatious glances and lines funny, and so did you, except this time it felt a little more real because you were sure a few people around overheard some. 

It was an amazing night, you made friends with a couple of people from the crew, and Ayiden had the time of his life meeting a few other idols, and almost started hyperventilating when Hamilton told him he would take him to meet Charles Leclerc on Sunday. 

Saturday was even more of a rush, you almost didn’t see Lewis, but he texted before and after quali. So when Sunday came you were still trying to navigate the whole paddock thing, but a bit more comfortable about it. Aiyden was still acting as if it was his own version of Disney land and it was his first day discovering the adventure world. You were loving it for him, of course. 

“Nice outfit,” Lewis whispers right beside you, catching you off guard and making you jump in surprise. You were in a corner, just texting a friend, and checking your next few appointments while Ayiden went to meet Charles and you thought Lewis would be there until he came back, but it wasn’t the case.

“You’re sneaky,” you chuckled, straightening your instance and looking into his face only to notice he was already staring at you. 

“You look cute when you’re focused,” he winks, before adding, “and when you’re scared too.” 

“You look cute when you joke like this,” throwing back at him you didn’t expect for his brows to furrow in confusion. 

“You think I’m joking?” 

“Aren’t you?” 

Lewis giggles. He giggles and you can’t help but smile with the sound and the way his lips part while his eyes squint. “I’m not.”

“You’re not?!” 

“I think you’re pretty and smart, and talented. I was genuinely flirting with you,” his explanation makes your insides turn in giddiness, and as if it wasn’t enough Lewis smiles, eyes glued on yours before he asks: “Wanna go on a date with me?” 

“A date?” You repeat trying to let the idea sink. 

“A date?” This time it’s Ayiden’s voice and you turn alarmed, expecting to see a confused and jealous brother, only to find him with the biggest grin ever.

“Yeah, a date,” Lewis smiles briefly to Ayiden, before staring back at you, waiting for your answer.

You blink still unsure. Fair enough, he was hot, educated, smart, and he checked all the boxes, but that wasn’t any guarantee of a successful relationship, or fling, or whatever he had in mind. And also, his lifestyle wasn’t something you were used to. How would dating him work when he’s often traveling around to drive?

“C’mon, don’t overthink it, Yn.” Ayiden comes to help, standing beside Lewis and the Brit chuckles. “It’s THE SIR Lewis Hamilton,” he points, and this time Lewis laughs. 

You bit your lips, not helping but letting a smile escape. 

Lewis is in front of you, hands in his pockets, big brown eyes watching you, and the smallest smile gracing the corner of his plump lips. He looked great. And as much as you wanted to deny, there was a vibe going on. 

You take a deep breath, smirking at him, “Get yourself a podium and we’ll talk about a date later.”  

Ayiden’s eyes widened. 

“Did you forget how quali went?! It’s gonna be hell to get a podium, almost impossible,” your brother tries to reason, but Lewis shakes his head, extending his hand to which you clasp in yours.

“Deal,” the driver smiles. “I’ll get you a podium.”

Lewis squeezes Ayiden’s shoulder and winks at you before disappearing into the garage to get ready for the race.

“One more reason why he’s the goat, see? If I were you I would go on a date with him even if he didn’t get a podium.” 

You laugh, “For the few things I saw, he likes the challenge. Let me indulge him.” 

“You’re crazy.”

“And he’ll get a podium.” 

“It’s very unlikely, but I won’t deny the possibility. It’s Lewis after all.” Your brother leans on the wall beside you. “And it looks like he wants this date bad.” 

“What makes you think this?” 

“C’mon, he’s been flirting with you nonstop since the hair appointment.” 

“I genuinely thought he was joking.” 

“You can be so clueless sometimes,” your brother rolls his eyes playfully and you slap the back of his head. 

“Watch it, young man, I’m still the oldest.” 

And you were still right too, because hours later Lewis impressed everyone by getting third place. He kept everyone on the edge of their seats along with Charles who did a brilliant race, and just like that your brother was grinning devilishly your way because now you had a date with no one other than Lewis Hamilton who happened to walk into the garage just as you were handling a water bottle to Dee after he ran to watch the ceremony as if his life depended on it.

Lewis was smiling brightly at you, sweat mixed with champagne, but you couldn’t help but grin right back and lace your arms around him, taking him by surprise. 

“I’m all sweaty, sorry,” he whispers, his tattooed hand flatting on your bag and bringing your body closer. 

“It’s fine. Congrats on the race.” 

“Congrats on the race, man!” Ayiden hugs him too and Lewis smiles, eyes still trapped on you. When your brother lets him go and stays rooted in place looking from you to Lewis you trap the laugh inside, and roll your eyes fakely, pointing for the young boy to give you both some privacy.

“So, looks like I scored myself a date, huh?” 

You nod, taking a small step in his direction and trying to keep your hands from tracing all the small details on his face from this up close, “You sure did.” Your eyes were now on his lips, and Lewis grinned. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“You already have a date, what else do you wanna ask me?” You’re teasing and he knows it because this time he’s the one to take a step in your direction. The tips of your shoes are touching, and you can hear the rustling outside, but it’s just you two in the corridor, and you hope it stays like this for just a little longer even though you knew he had an interview in a few minutes. His company and attention are something you enjoyed having.

“With how many dates do you find it ok to kiss someone?” His playful tone is there, but his expression makes your knees almost buck. “Can we count practice, quali, and the race as dates?” 

And just like that he has you laughing and grabbing his neck to close the distance and smash your lips in a very much-awaited kiss. 

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yoursername best date night ever 🤍

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────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this piece! <3 I wanted to add a huge shout-out to C (my coffee emoji anon on Tumblr) for proofreading this (Ily, C!)

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[nohoney]

Bakugou would listen to you rant all about work. Even though he’s the one out on the streets with more exciting stories to tell, one of his favorite things is to hear you talk about your own work. He follows and nods along with whatever work story you have for him for the day, always attentive but never telling you what you should do to handle it (as he had learned from a prior relationship).

“I can tell he fuckin’ hates me, you know?” You continue on about your current work events as you sit on the countertop and watch Bakugou cut vegetables, “He keeps on bringing up my old manager as if she has anything to do with it now. Like, no motherfucker! You answer to me now and I’m saying pay your stupid invoice!”

The vegetables for dinner are set aside while the oven is still preheating. Two pieces of pork chop are taken from the fridge and is set aside on a clean plate as Bakugou looks for spices to rub into the meat. “So what happened baby? Did he pay? Y’said you were dealing with this for almost two weeks.” He asks you, genuinely curious if your annoying client is actually complying with you. The thought in his head is wondering how you handled it.

“I have to read you this email that I wrote. I gotta say the professional ways of dissing someone in email is something I finally understand now.” You laugh as you pull up your work email on your phone. Word for word you read out your well thought out response to your difficult client, not backing down and upholding work policy as you are expected to. Bakugou had never really bothered with any type of skill of being professional through communication in his job; it’s what his team is for while he gets the really privilege to cuss as he pleases and have his team handle it for the public. “Here is how I signed off, I think it’s probably my most eloquent and business-like ‘fuck you’ I’ve written so far.”

You clear your throat first before reading aloud, “‘I hope that the explanations of how to navigate your account has cleared up any confusion you may have and that you are able to move forward in compliance with our company policy, if you have any further questions then please let me know.’ God I know he’s going to hate me as soon as he reads it!”

He chuckles, happy that you know how to stand your ground in such a manner that Bakugou knows he struggles in. “You tell him, baby.”

“I fucking did Katsuki!” You boast with a proud little smile as you hop off the countertop and go to his side as he heats oil in a pan. “Sorry, I’ve been going on about this annoying client for a while. I wanna hear about your work today Tsuki.”

Bakugou shakes his head though and urges you to talk about what else happened at your work. The meat sizzles as he presses it into the pan, crackling and sizzling in a way that’s reminiscent of his quirk but to a much lower degree. The oven beeps to indicate that preheating is finished and you move to put all the vegetables into the glass pan and stick it in for him, already setting a timer before he can even ask. “What about that other guy? The one who keeps on saying that he’s getting investors so he wants to make you wait a little longer?” He asks you when he recalls another client you complained of a few days ago.

You excitedly pop off about your work again, unknowing how you calm Bakugou down with your own work stories. Your series of responsibilities that he wouldn’t know the first clue how to handle are interesting to him to hear how you handle yourself. It’s simple compared to what he does but in no way is it easy either. To see you struggle sometimes with your own career wasn’t easy for him but you were also strong enough to handle it all the same.

And he liked to think that he made it easy for you to handle because he wanted to hear anything and everything about your job that’s so different from his. “Tell me about the parking permits, did that get solved yet?” He asks as he starts to set food on the plates.

“No! I’m on week three of dealing with it and it’s ridiculous! I sent everything in so early and they deal with it so late!!”

Bakugou listens with a happy heart to hear you talk, never wanting you to apologize over the things that frustrate you. And by the end of your rants, even he feels a little lighter as he readies to get in bed with you.

And the next day as he’s just about to enter a meeting in his agency, Bakugou gets a text from you.

[1:57 pm] omg i need to tell you what this mofo emailed me when we’re home

He looks forward to it, letting a little smile come onto his face. He can see you all cute and puffed up and mad, and he can’t wait to hear about it.

[1:58 pm] can’t wait baby. love you.

You text him back within seconds.

[1:58 pm] love you!!!

Bakugou can’t wait to be home and listen to you.

[koboldfactory]

Hiii, I really love your art and I really wanna ask a question, but how do you your cel-shading stuff but yet still use some textured brushes while at it! And how to use these textured brushes without making it too muddy? I would really love to learn your process

Well my technique varies a little bit from piece to piece but I have a few general rules of thumb developed usually to allow me to finish coloring pieces in a timely manner. I'll throw in an example piece here to reference while I talk about what I did in it below the break!

Ok so this is basically my go to coloring style for character art. I block out a base flat color (usually like the primary fur/feather color of a character), and then create a new layer (with the clip to layer below modifier) for each individual flat color on top of that for the various elements of the design. Then when coloring I tend to stick to the rule of one primary darker shade and one highlight shade, but since I'm using a rough brush it gives me a little wiggle room for opacity and texture (also use lock alpha to make shading way easier on the individual parts). These shadows and highlights are usually painted-on actual colors but sometimes I use multiply layers to push the contrast in areas a bit further. And for shiny metal bits, like Iris's claws here, I sometimes throw an airbrushed glow layer on top to make it really appear shiny and metallic!

Oh! also i create another clipping layer above the line art and color over it in parts to better match up with the colors below. Like over the brown clothing bits the lines become a dark reddish brown, they become shiny and light on the metal sword, etc etc.

Hopefully that helps and wasn't just random rambling.

[elyvorg]

Kieran Part Bonus: I AM SO PROUD OF MY BOY

And now for my really actually final analysis post about Kieran, covering both the epilogue and also his scenes in the League Club room once you’ve finished that. Somehow both of these relatively short pieces of content still managed to be packed with delightful nuance showcasing both how Kieran’s still struggling with his issues and yet also how much he’s grown since his main arc. They are absolutely lovely and fill me with so many warm happy feelings about my boy.

Honestly, it’s remarkable, not just from a Pokémon-writing perspective but as a piece of fiction in general, to have this kind of satisfying follow-up for a character arc. Usually once a character’s arc reaches a resolution, their story just ends there, and we don’t get to see more of how they’re processing what they’ve been through and learning to grow further in the aftermath. So it’s a really wonderful breath of fresh air to get to see something like that for once here with Kieran! The Pokémon writers absolutely did not have to make the epilogue and postgame content focused on showcasing this, and yet they did. I am, once again, pleasantly boggled by how much they cared about doing Kieran’s story justice. Just, wowzers, man. There really is no more appropriate word for my amazement than that.

(This is an epilogue, if you will, to my previous two analysis posts discussing Kieran’s character arc in The Teal Mask and The Indigo Disk! Reading those before this is probably recommended.)

Before even getting into things that are strictly from the epilogue itself, can I just say: I really love that Kieran took a mental health break from Blueberry Academy to give him some time to process things? (Okay, the game only calls it a “break”, but let’s be real, it is for his mental health, and this is Good.) It just makes me very happy that the writing acknowledged that he’d probably need something like that after what he’s been through instead of going straight back to business as normal at school – and in an in-story sense, it’s lovely that Kieran realised he needed this and didn’t try and force himself to just keep going as if nothing had happened. He’s starting to learn to take care of himself and not push himself way too hard!

Making new friends

The first lovely sign of Kieran’s growth that we see in the epilogue is that, not only does he want to catch up with you, he also wants to meet your friends from Paldea! He must have spent some time during his break thinking about the fact that you mentioned you had friends from there.

And the thing is, with Kieran’s insecurities, it would have been so easy for him to slip into a mindset of “your friends are probably way cooler than me, why would you need me”. But instead of letting himself get caught up in that jealousy spiral again, he fought against it and did the healthy thing of asking to meet them himself. Hopefully he can become friends with them too and then he’ll have nothing to feel jealous about! He outright says when he meets them, “Any friend of [yours] is a friend of mine!” Look at him go. (Arven should take notes on how not to act insecure about one’s best friend having other friends, because damn, Kieran’s managing to be more well-adjusted than him now.)

All this is also just a sign that Kieran’s hoping to try and make more friends in general. He’s such an introvert that he must have figured that’d be easier for him to do with people for whom he has a mutual friend to get to know them through. Plus, if they’re your friends, then he already has a guarantee that they’ll be good and nice people. Way more manageable for him than trying to approach complete randos.

And really, it’s such a huge remarkable thing for Kieran that he is trying to make friends now. Friends, plural! This is the kid who used to be so lonely and shunned by others that his big dream was to one day be like the ogre who, according to him, doesn’t care that it’s all alone. And maybe then, if he managed that, he’d be able to befriend the ogre – just that one other person who is also alone and outcast. It never even crossed his mind to try and imagine that one day he could be confident and worthy enough to just… have some human friends. That wasn’t even an option in his head – it was “learn to not care that he’s alone” or nothing.

And yet look at Kieran now, actively reaching out to try and make new friends! I am so proud of him.

Learning to ask for help

Soon after you meet up with Kieran, it becomes apparent that something is Very Wrong with his sister. According to Kieran’s account, it was shortly after he sent you the letter that Carmine became possessed, so it’s not that the letter was secretly a call for help in which he couldn’t bring himself to admit the actual problem.

And even now that you’re here… Kieran wasn’t going to tell you about this problem at all until Carmine happened to wander up and start mochi-dancing in front of you. He tries to play the whole thing off like it’s totally normal and she’s definitely just… excited to see you???, even though he has to know that doesn’t make any sense at all. On some level this is just because it’s really scary to admit to himself that something is very wrong and he doesn’t have a clue how to fix it. But it’s also because… he still doesn’t feel like he has the right to ask you and your friends for help.

This is one of the ways in which Kieran’s issues and low sense of self-worth from before are still lingering and have not just been magically, instantly fixed. While he may be making a conscious effort to fight through his insecurities to try and make more friends, he hasn’t started consciously tackling everything that was holding him back just yet. It seems like he imagines that asking your friends for help, these people he’s only just met, would just make him a burden on them and maybe spoil any chance he had of actually becoming their friend himself. (Although, even if you’d come to visit him alone, I suspect he’d still struggle to ask even just you for help, simply due to his old ingrained mindset that he’s not worthy enough to deserve it.)

Happily for Kieran, your friends are all good people who instantly unthinkingly offer to help without him even needing to ask them! Kieran’s sheer surprise and gratitude when this happens is so telling about his insecurities for why he didn’t feel he could ask, but it’s also lovely to see him starting to realise that his instinctive way of thinking about this is mistaken. Welcome to having friends, Kieran, this is how it works actually! Most people are good and will be happy to help out a friend in need! It’s okay to need help sometimes!

There’s another very innocuous line that I find interestingly telling about Kieran’s mindset regarding this. When you’re all at the community centre wanting to use the TV, Kieran laments that it’s stuck playing the tourism ad because the caretaker hid the remote, so Arven immediately suggests you all look for it. And Kieran reacts, in surprise, “Why didn’t I think of that?” It reads as largely rhetorical, but… it’s a good question.

Why didn’t Kieran think of just trying to find the remote? Because he’s spent so long stuck in a mindset where, if things are bad for him, it’s just what he deserves for being weak and there’s nothing he can do about it. His response to his problems during the main storyline was to completely separately fixate on making himself Stronger so that, in theory, problems would just stop happening to him entirely. It never occurred to him to try and just face and deal with his problems directly – at least not until the climactic battle with Terapagos, which was the first time he ever found the courage to take such an approach – so the notion to do so still isn’t quite habitual in his mind just yet.

Hopefully Kieran asking why he didn’t think of that wasn’t quite so rhetorical, and he was reflecting on it himself a little when he said it. He ought to realise that actually, taking action to directly solve his problems is a good thing and something he should strive to do more! He has already begun to do so in some ways by reaching out in an attempt to make more friends, at least.

Solving the problem

Kieran sure does get a lot more practice at Directly Solving Problems thanks to the events that go on to occur that night, doesn’t he. I love that the epilogue’s plot, while ostensibly just there to give players an opportunity to catch Pecharunt, is also a narrative that exists to let Kieran get to be a hero alongside you.

It’s somewhat low key, but Kieran definitely gets pretty freaked out about everything that’s happening. Which is really perfectly reasonable – though the effects of the possession are incredibly silly, it’s still got to be genuinely frightening to see people he knows getting controlled against their will by some unknown force, especially when this includes his own family. (One detail I love is that the game uses that lack of a highlight in his eyes during certain lines to communicate the fear he's feeling and trying not-so-successfully to hide; it’s a small thing, but it works so well.)

Once you’ve fought off his possessed grandparents, Kieran starts to panic, convinced it’s only a matter of time before it gets him (even though the evidence of how exactly the possession occurs is right there if he’d just stop to think about it for a moment). On some level, he must still have this sense that, if it can get all these people he looks up to, surely it’ll get him too who’s so much weaker than them. His inferiority complex is still there and affecting him, especially in this stressful situation.

Good thing Kieran has you by his side, the strongest coolest friend ever whom he knows he can rely on! If you hadn’t been there to reassure him and snap him out of it, he really might have lost himself to his panic. Or he might have just not even tried to battle the possessed people and do something about all of this in the first place – see the earlier point about how him facing problems directly is still not instinctive to him. He’s able to do so here, but a lot of that is probably thanks to being able to follow your lead. Still, this is bound to help him get better at doing so on his own in future!

Kieran’s also still a bit too liable to feel like things are his fault even when they really aren’t. He blames himself for not warning Arven and Penny about the mochi in time, even though he was literally about to do so when Pecharunt showed up and sniped mochi directly into their mouths. That can’t be called Kieran’s fault at all! He tried! (And, hey, it’s not like you made any attempt to warn them either.) But he still feels responsible for it anyway.

And he’s also still rather defeatist when it comes to facing Strong Opponents in battle. Kieran couldn’t defeat Nemona earlier in the day, so when it comes down to facing off against her in order to get to Pecharunt, he just feels like he can’t do it, end of. Really, that’s not necessarily the case – since this is an emergency and not a friendly battle for sport, there’s no reason you have to beat Nemona in a fair 6-on-6. Anything to get past her will do; the two of you could have taken her on in a 12-on-6 double battle, perhaps! Kieran did not need to momentarily feel useless in this situation, but he did, because not being able to win against someone still equates in his mind to being No Good At All. Kieran, nooo.

Happily, the narrative provides Kieran with something else to do with himself while you fight Nemona so that he is very decidedly not useless in the slightest – fighting off the entire town’s worth of people behind you??? That is equally as necessary as taking down Nemona, something without which you’d never have managed to get to Pecharunt, and it must take some incredible battling skill to be able to hold off that many opponents at once. Like, dang, Kieran. I really hope he’s able to reflect on this in the aftermath and realise how incredibly strong and cool that was of him, because it was.

(He was holding his own one-against-many, just like he always admired Ogerpon for doing!)

Kieran’s fear and pessimism also show through just a tiny bit as you’re fighting Pecharunt at the end, when he reacts to the fact that you were able to damage it. Apparently he was afraid that this thing would be completely invulnerable and it just wouldn’t be possible for even someone as amazing as you to beat it and stop the curse. Yikes, that must have been a scary thought. But still, it all worked out in the end! Kieran’s learning that even when things are scary and feel overwhelming, by facing up to them and doing his best, it’ll usually turn out okay! Especially because he’s not alone and has friends by his side to support him now.

And, hey, one way or another, it seems like the events of the epilogue did help give Kieran that last little push he needed to decide to go back to Blueberry Academy! I imagine he was already thinking about doing so – he is actually a very stubborn and determined person at his core, so I don’t think he could ever have been considering just giving up on it – but all of this probably helped give him the confidence to make that leap. The thought of apologising to everyone for how he acted must still be incredibly daunting – but, he’s begun to realise that he can face scary things!

His old Kitakami team

During the epilogue’s battles, I was absolutely delighted to see Kieran send out Poliwrath, one of the Pokémon he used in Teal Mask but not in Indigo Disk – because this is proof that he’s been reconnecting with the Pokémon friends he left behind back then! As it turns out, the rest of his team for these multi battles is the same as his Champion team, with only the Polis switched, but even so, Poliwrath’s presence is enough to be a promising sign for all of his old Pokémon friends.

And this gets further confirmed by his dialogue with Arven in the clubroom! Arven asks Kieran which of his Pokémon he’s closest to, and he mentions his Hydrapple (which has been with him since it was an Applin), his Poliwrath and Politoed, his Yanmega, and his Furret! This accounts for all of the Pokémon Kieran had in his Teal Mask battles up to the third one, after which he started to fixate hard on getting stronger to prove himself to you, so these are likely all of the Pokémon that were friends of his from the start. And he still considers them friends now, which means he reconnected with them all and apologised as necessary for any leaving them behind/thinking they were weak/etc that he might have done! Yes good, Justice For Furret was had, I could not be happier.

(Okay, we never saw the second Poli back then, but the way he talks about both Polis together suggests they’re a pair, so I imagine they were both his friends back then, too. He also never used Applin against you before evolving it into Dipplin – which is fair, Applin is very not good in battles – so the lack of us seeing another Poliwag/whirl is probably because he felt he needed to use a diverse team that didn’t have two of the same species. He doesn’t have to battle with all of his Pokémon for them to still be his friends, after all! He still doesn’t battle with most of them now in the clubroom battles either, which use his same Champion team, but that doesn’t stop them from being his precious pals!)

(On the other hand, since there is no sign nor mention of them in the postgame, I suspect that, like Cramorant before them, his Gliscor, Shiftry and Probopass from the final Kitakami battle got released. Kieran would have only had them for like a day or two during the events of Teal Mask, since he only caught them after he fixated on getting stronger, so I doubt he’d grown very attached to them during that time. Still, that’s okay, because hey, he did make them stronger, which is probably all they ever expected from him when they joined his team.)

Nemona is Good

One extremely delightful aspect of the epilogue and beyond is Kieran’s interactions with Nemona. It turns out that her outlook on battling is exactly the kind of thing Kieran needed to help regain a healthier view on it himself!

His feelings about his own battling skills are still very all-or-nothing at the beginning of the epilogue. When Nemona excitedly declares that she’s heard he’s really good at battling, Kieran’s pretty dismissive of that idea. He couldn’t beat you, therefore that means he’s Not Good At It, right? (Kieran, no.) He also says that Nemona “destroyed” him once they’ve battled – but based on the fact that she has nothing but praise for how good he is, I very strongly suspect that he actually gave her a really tough fight, and he only framed it that negatively because losing at all still makes his inferiority complex blow things way out of proportion.

Happily, delightfully, Nemona tells Kieran exactly what he has always needed to hear this whole time, which is that it shouldn’t matter whether you win or lose, because battles are fun either way! And with a moment to reflect on that, he agrees… yeah, they are, he had a lot of fun!

We’d heard from Drayton that Kieran was always a kid who’d deeply enjoyed battling, from the very beginning. But it seems that somewhere along the way he’d stopped loving it so much, at least when he’s the one battling - probably because he’d often lose, which would trigger his inferiority complex and make him feel bad. We only saw a small glimpse of his passion for battling ourselves at the beginning of Teal Mask, mostly when he watched you battle his sister, and a little bit in his own early battles with you, but he still felt bad over losing, poor kid.

But with Nemona’s help, Kieran’s been able to remember just how much he always loved battling and can just enjoy himself with it again! In your clubroom battles with him, he has a line just before he Terastallises where he says “these feelings never change” – and though he doesn’t specify what feelings he’s talking about, the one thing about Kieran that has never changed this entire time, even if he sort of lost sight of it for a while along the way, is the thrill he gets from battling! He also says in another line that he’s “having a blast” – which is phrasing that Nemona uses that Kieran never has before, so apparently he picked that up from her? Aww. I am so glad he could meet her; she is exactly the breath of battle-loving fresh air he always needed.

Kieran’s clubroom conversation with Nemona is also very good and helps him let go of his all-or-nothing mindset a little more. Nemona praises him for how quickly he climbed the ranks of the BB League, which he insists is meaningless because he pushed himself unhealthily hard and then still couldn’t beat you in the end. But Nemona helps him reframe it and think of it as: he was incredibly dedicated, and it must mean he really loves Pokémon and battling, which is true! This has to help Kieran view his training arc in a more positive light instead of focusing on the negative aspects like his toxic obsession and lack of self-care. Hopefully if/when he starts training hard again, he’ll be able to feel better about it and not associate it with all the bad things, thanks to Nemona! (But also, Kieran, please remember to not neglect self-care again, that was bad. I imagine he has indeed got the message about that, since the way he talks about that aspect in this conversation seems tinged with regret.)

Carmine is Trying

Another thing we see in the epilogue – admittedly only a small glimpse near the end, but it’s something – is that Kieran’s relationship with his sister seems to have gotten a little bit healthier? They each make equal-opportunity Sibling Banter jabs at each other, and Kieran doesn’t slump and shrink and look so defeated when she bites back against one of his. There’s probably still some ways to go here on their dynamic becoming completely truly healthy, but it’s definitely progress from before, which is good to see.

I think Carmine really must have reflected on her role in Kieran’s breakdown and is trying in her own fumbling awkward way to do better by him now. A delightful sign of this is one of her scenes in the clubroom, in which she resolves to be less protective of Kieran, even if it’ll make her lonelier without him around as much. That’s exactly what she needs to do! After all, this whole thing started because Carmine couldn’t bear to let her brother endure even the tiniest amount of badfeels that would have come from learning he happened to miss out on meeting the ogre. Carmine has realised on some level that she needs to have more faith in Kieran and his ability to endure and get through stuff on his own, rather than trying too hard to protect him from everything ever, which just results in coddling him and stifling his possibility for growth. She still does want to look out for him from a distance and be able to help if he really does need it, but she’s trying not to overdo it any more. Yes good, I am proud of her too.

Reconciling with his schoolmates

I said already in the Indigo Disk post that it’s incredibly brave of Kieran to resolve to apologise to everyone he hurt and make amends, and this is still true. That has to have been so scary, but he went and did it anyway! It seems he even apologised to the people who cared about him, such as his sister and Amarys, for worrying them with his behaviour – which also means he has managed to comprehend the fact that people cared about him, even back then when he was at his most unlikeable.

And by the sounds of what he says in his clubroom scenes, most people took his apologies well and are talking to him like normal now, which has to have been such a relief. It means a lot that Kieran wasn’t expecting anything of the sort and apologised anyway despite expecting backlash, simply because it was the right thing to do – but hey, most people are nice and can probably tell he was decidedly Not Himself during that time and are willing to put the past behind them! Social interaction isn’t quite as scary as he’d used to think, it turns out!

Even then, some things are still a bit weird, and with how far-reaching his impact as Champion was, Kieran’s bound to keep having to deal with this for a while. There must keep being more people he was a jerk to that he still hasn’t apologised to yet, people being intimidated by him because they don’t realise he’s changed, constant reminders of some of the hurtful things he said and did back then. Making amends is going to be a pretty long-term thing, but Kieran is putting in the effort to do so all the same, because it’s the right thing to do, and he is so brave.

Someone who is making this harder than it needs to be is Drayton, because of freaking course he is. He still insists on rubbing in the “ex-Champ” thing, even though Kieran has made it clear he does not appreciate being called that (of course, he no longer minds that he’s not Champion any more, but the fact that Drayton insists on constantly reminding him of his past self has to sting). On the one hand, Drayton is still concerned about Kieran in his own way, because he does effectively ask if Kieran’s eating better meals now, but on the other hand their entire clubroom interaction features him deliberately dodging Kieran’s genuine attempts to just engage with him in an effort to make amends, and, geez. This is exactly what he wanted from Kieran all along, and yet he is somehow still not satisfied. Seriously, Drayton.

At least Drayton is the only one of the Elite Four to be like this, and the others seem to be on good terms with Kieran now! Look at Lacey insisting that the past is in the past when Kieran acts confused that she’d want to help him after he was such a jerk to her. (Someone needs to take notes there, Drayton.) And it seems like Kieran’s got another good friend in Crispin, who’s in the same class as him! Our boy is making so many new friends and it is wonderful.

Of course, his insecurities are still around, and he’s still a little too liable to assume he’s doing something Wrong in social situations, as we see in a couple of his clubroom interactions. That one with Arven about his Pokémon is an example, as Arven phrased things as if he expected Kieran to have just one single closest Pokémon buddy, and Kieran seemed to feel bad that he actually had multiple candidates and couldn’t pick – but happily, Arven reassured him that it’s cool to not be able to choose, too! And in Kieran’s interaction with Crispin, he reflexively apologises for not having watched the latest episode of a show, but Crispin calls him out on the apology, and Kieran is able to question himself as to why he apologised and conclude that he didn’t need to, because it’s not like Crispin’s going to mind.

He is learning! He does not need to feel like he has to perfectly match his conversation partner’s expectations in order to be their friend! Kieran’s approach to his own issues has become so healthy and filled with self-reflection and growth, and I am so proud of him.

Friendship with you

Kieran is also able to be a whole lot healthier about his friendship with you, now that you’re properly friends again after everything! Possibly my favourite completely innocuous line in the epilogue is when he casually mentions that you and he became friends during the school trip to Kitakami. This is actually huge, because Kieran had spent so long utterly convinced that you couldn’t possibly have meant it when you called him a friend back then, not after the lie and all of his issues about being too weak to deserve it. But now, he’s been able to reflect on that and realise… of course you meant it. Of course you always wanted to be his friend, right from the very beginning! It wasn’t on purpose of you that he got left out of meeting Ogerpon at all, because you’re a good person and you wouldn’t do something like that, and he never actually deserved that after all.

(Perhaps sometime during his break, he had a proper talk with his sister about what happened and why she lied, and Carmine finally got to fully express that you and she never meant to hurt him and shun him with that.)

Kieran is still not over his idolisation of you, mind you. He reacts to you being the one to find the TV remote of all completely mundane things with “Wowzers! ‘Course you found it first!” – which, really isn’t a wowzers or an of course? Your magical protagonist powers do not and should not extend to this, and yet they still do in Kieran’s head. But even though he still views you this way, Kieran is so much healthier about it now. He’s no longer bitter and jealous and beating himself up for not being as perfect as he thinks you are, since nobody is (not even you, not really) – instead, he’s just so incredibly thrilled that he actually gets to be friends with someone so cool!

I really love that the devs went and gave Kieran a new losing animation for his clubroom battles, too. His previous ones always had him being varying levels of upset about losing, but not any more! He just stares in wide-eyed awe at your amazingness, and then breaks into a big smile and thanks you for the battle, because he still had great fun even though he lost! And he’s able to freely admit that he looks up to you because you’re so strong, or, in an optional line in the epilogue, he admits that he’s jealous that your friends are all really good people. He still has those feelings, but he’s able to healthily express them now without letting them twist him into something harmful.

It seems like he’s still a little insecure about if he deserves to be friends with you, though, based on a few small things. When he asks you for a trade in the clubroom, he appears hesitant to ask, as if he’s not sure he has the right to, and if you say no – even though there’s every chance this is just because you want some time to decide on an appropriately special Pokémon to give him – he slumps, probably having had his sensitivity to rejection triggered. And even once you’ve traded, he can later ask if you’re absolutely sure he can really keep the Pokémon you traded him, because he can’t quite believe he could get to have such a cool gift from you of all people. Aww, Kieran. Hopefully his hypothetical future interactions with you will help squash this insecurity of his further, because he deserves to feel comfortable in his friendship with his best friend!!!

Ogerpon

Another seemingly-innocuous but extremely good line in the clubroom is that Kieran can ask you if Ogerpon’s doing well and say that he thinks she’ll be pretty happy with you. He says this in a completely casual way, with no hint of bitterness – which tells us that he’s no longer jealous that you caught Ogerpon! It makes sense that he wouldn’t be, because he doesn’t need her acknowledgement any more like he used to think he did in order to feel worth something. He’s already got acknowledgement and self-worth and happiness now for so many other reasons, after all! So he can just be selflessly happy for Ogerpon that she’s found a trainer she can feel safe and happy with too, without being irrationally preoccupied over what she thinks of him.

It is interesting to see in this dialogue that Kieran initially calls her “the ogre” before correcting himself to “Ogerpon” – apparently, he’s only quite recently made an effort to shift what he calls her in his head. It’s true that in his reaction to her in the Champion battle, he did indeed just call her “the ogre”. It’d make sense that he didn’t actually work to shift his mental idea of what to call her during his Indigo Disk arc, despite knowing her species name, because the name “Ogerpon” likely brought back too many painful reminders of everything that happened in Kitakami. It was probably easier for him to just stick with “the ogre” and try to forget anything had changed. But he’s okay with what happened now!

And maybe Kieran trying to make a habit of using her name now is a sign that he’s started to realise that Ogerpon is her own individual who’s not quite the same as the mental image he always had of what “the ogre” was like? Maybe. It’s hard to be sure. Unfortunately the epilogue/postgame can’t do much with Ogerpon because it’s always optional for her to be on your team or even in your game at all (since you could in theory have released her or traded her away). But we can at least hypothetically imagine that in Kieran’s continued interactions with you, he’ll get the chance to hang out with Ogerpon a little and come to understand her better. It certainly seems now that he’d be able to hang out with both you and her without feeling uncomfortably jealous, which is a good start! (And Terapagos is on the list of ‘people’ he owes an apology to, so let’s imagine he gets a chance to do that, too.)

Moving forward

The “climax”, such as there is one, of Kieran’s mini-arc of scenes in the clubroom is him excitedly telling you that he’s had the BB League drop him from their rankings. Although your character seems a little bewildered by it (they are still a bit of a social dumbass), this is in fact an extremely good thing for Kieran! He’s taking a step back from the competitive side of things for the sake of his mental health, so that he can untangle himself from the toxically-obsessive mindset that he was in back when he was only focused on winning! Look at Kieran doing all this good self-reflection and self-care, it is so lovely to see. He doesn’t even seem to view this as any sign of him failing, either – he’s just comfortably acknowledging that he needs to do this for now for his own sake and there’s no shame in that.

Kieran seems pretty sure that he is going to want to get back into competing once he’s cleared his head a bit, but he’s already so much more casual and healthy about it! He says he’s going to shoot for the Champion title again, and even if you respond with a friendly taunt of “You still won’t beat me!”, he takes it so well. He’s genuinely okay now with the thought that he might never quite be good enough to beat you – he just wants to have fun trying. Look at how far he’s come!

In the meantime, while he sorts his head out, he just wants to spend time with his Pokémon (who mean a lot to him as far more than just sources of battling strength!) and his human friends (whom he has so many of now???) and figure out what he really wants to do with himself from here. Good for him!

Kieran’s still just a kid, and seeing him already learn how to grow from his mistakes and face up to his lingering issues and be just so emotionally healthy about things now is such a promising sign for wherever he’s going to end up in future. I love that the epilogue and these postgame clubroom scenes put so much effort into showing us this about Kieran now, reassuring us that he really is going to be okay. I truly could not be more proud of or happy for my boy.

[queer-n-here]

once again comin in with another meal to cook !!!

character of your choice ♡

stalker, obsessive and possessive reader (quite literally just yandere) seeing their SoulmateTM one day and just going full degenerate and doing everything in their power to learn more of their new lover, even getting rid of powerful foes or imaginary rival love interests for them. no one has any idea as to how they're able to do things no human or gifted can do. eventually, reader slowly comes in and orchestrates their first meeting and slowly woos their lover, but they have major issues on hiding their possessiveness and jealousy of others. lover can either a) be all for it and find it hot or b) lover is unsettled by it.

either way, after someone flirts with their lover, reader kind of snaps and after that person leaves, reader excuses themself and goes to absolutely maim the persom who dared to approach what was his. it's nighttime when reader is finished with them, and they come home to their lover who is worried, but becomes horrified at seeing all the blood covering reader. all reader can think about is claiming his lover, breeding him and imprinting himself so deep inside his lover that they'll always feel empty without him. (dubcon would be amazing)

~ 🕸

Oh my god 🕸️ bro 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Bruv this is so good, love you for this, and yeah, y'all I've recently started reading a shit ton of dubcon/noncon so yeah...

I did this one for Akutagawa, cuz I feel like this could work for a situation where the reader is in the Port Mafia.

Also,this one got really long, and I haven't posted in like two days, so I thought I'd make two parts, yknow? Read Pt. 2 here!

Contents: Yandere reader that stalks Akutagawa and plans out their first time meeting in person. Not that Akutagawa already knows reader's name since they both work for the Port Mafia, but that's about it.

Warnings: No smut in this part yet, top male reader, yandere tendencies, mentions of stalking, murder, ability user reader.

You had been watching Akutagawa ever since you joined the Port Mafia. In total, this is what three years of stalking and careful planning was gonna boil down to: this one opportunity.

You had planned it out meticulously, paid seventy eight people to be nearby and on the scene to prevent anything from going wrong.

A heroic rescue!

As you watched Akutagawa cut open those men with Rashomon, you couldn't help but smile. He was so precious, so brave, so beautiful, so-

You shook your head, forcing yourself to concentrate. You couldn't miss your cue. Akutagawa wasn't stupid. If you made half a mistake, he'd know what was up.

One of the men got too close to Akutagawa for your liking, and you pounced on the opportunity like a starving cat.

You dashed out of your hiding spot, your ability leaping out and cutting the man to the ground.

Akutagawa turned to look at you, surprised.

Some of the men halted, too. They hadn't thought that you would actually hurt one of them. Before it was too apparent, and before Akutagawa could notice the changes in their expressions, your ability flew out, covering the entire area. Soon, all the men but the one you were enamored with were lying on the ground in pieces.

"[Name]," Akutagawa said, frowning slightly. "Aren't you supposed to be responsible for the East block tonight?"

"I asked Higuchi to handle it." You shrugged seemingly casually, your hands in your pockets as you scanned Akutagawa's body for any injuries. "The weather is great tonight, so I thought I'd step out for a drink. And good thing I did, otherwise you would have been cut to pieces."

Akutagawa sulked slightly, no longer focusing on the reason behind your sudden appearance. "I could've handled it."

Of course he could've, he's literally perfect.

"Were these Guild's men?" Akutagawa looked around the bloody mess of bodies around you two.

"How would I know?" You placed your hands behind your head.

Akutagawa shrugged. "Whatever, they're dead now."

And so the night ended. You took Akutagawa back to his home, pretending to ask for directions, when in reality you had his address memorized. He tried to turn you down, saying that you were being paranoid, but you said you'd rather be safe than sorry.

When you reached the tall apartment building, you watched him step inside, waiting for the light to turn on in the window you knew was his before leaving.

Over the next few weeks, you orchestrated multiple meetings between you two, always appearing out of nowhere and going back to it. Slowly, Akutagawa opened up, and started trusting you.

Miraculously, you even got Mori to assign you and Akutagwa to the same area. It cost you it's worth; you had to help Mori convince Elise into some bullshit.

It wasn't long before you were sure Akutagawa had developed feelings for you. He was painfully easy to read; his cheeks would flush every time you got too close, you could sometimes feel his eyes following you as you moved around. Once, when you 'casually' playfully winked at him, and you swore you could hear his breath hitch.

But you waited. The perfect thing to seal the deal for you and Akutagawa would be a confession from him, and not from you.

There were times when you almost gave up on this thought, like that one time one of your clients found interest in Akutagawa. He was ugly as hell and nowhere close to Akutagawa, who shone brighter than the sun. You had to take care of him your own way afterwards, slitting open his insides in your secret warehouse and throwing his pieces away to the dogs.

That wasn't a first-time occurrence, nor was it the last, but you fought well to keep your cool as long as Akutagawa was around. You didn't want him to know that side of you.

That day, you had known something was up even before you saw Akutagawa. There was a funny feeling in your stomach, and you felt like something great was going to happen.

And it did.

"I... I really l-like you."

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment you almost punched yourself in the face to confirm whether it was a dream or reality. But you stopped yourself.

"Really?" Even as you spoke, your hands were already reaching for Akutagawa, pulling him closer to you.

He nodded, his entire face red.

A small broke through your face, and you kissed him, holding his waist in your hands.

It was finally happening. It was finally happening! Three years, four months, twenty-seven days, sixteen hours and forty-two minutes after you'd first laid eyes on this angelic man, you had finally kissed him!

It was a gentle kiss, despite the roaring in your head and all the urges to crush him into yourself. You nipped at Akutagawa's lips gently, making his breath hitch in that oh-so majestic way. He tasted like the best thing in the world, and you just couldn't get enough.

It was him who pulled away first, you wouldn't willingly part from those beautiful lips even if you suffocated to death. Staring at you with shining eyes and a shy little smile on his ethereal face, Akutagawa spoke.

"So... D'you... wanna be my boyfriend?"

Yes, yes, YES! A thousand times yes!

You nodded, pressing your forehead against his.

[nastyaromatherapy]

Hiii I love ur work mwah mwah

Could u make some stuff for Gf Ethan as the readers Bf . Like a list of the different things happen to reader that they're unaware is by Ethan to trap her with him.

Ex: As Gf making the reader break her leg or arm so she has to relay on Ethan to take care of her.

Just a list of stuff like that

bf ghostface ethan headcanons 😽

wc: 700+ cw: mentions of sex, sociopathic ethan, reader's colorblind, a little dark but not rlly

๋࣭ ⭑ you met Ethan in econ class when your teacher paired you two for a project. you both hit it off instantly. it didn't take long for y'all to start dating, you making the first move of course.

๋࣭ ⭑ after that, the two of you were inseparable, two peas in a pod. you were never seen without ethan, and you never realized it was all subliminal.

๋࣭ ⭑ ethan was a master manipulator, a sociopath if you will. he wasn't toxic, he wasn't trying to use you, but he needed you. to be around you at all times. he knew someday you would leave him. girls like you didn't like to settle down, and often nice guys finished last. that was his ideology.

๋࣭ ⭑ first, he had to turn you away from your friends. he had to be your only emotional outlet. besides, since your friends were pretty sane, he knew that they would worry for you at some point, and maybe try and drive you away from him, which couldn't happen.

๋࣭ ⭑ he would casually talk about how he didn't like them while on dates, and he'd find the smallest things about your friends to turn you against them,

“the one with the wavy hair, yeah, i think she was kinda, laughing at me. it's okay if i'm embarrassing you, i'll wait in the car.”

๋࣭ ⭑ in turn, you would give the girls a piece of your mind and continued with your life, your long life in his captivity.

๋࣭ ⭑ now friendless, the only person you could talk to was him, which he loved. he loved whenever you were vulnerable and confided in him, even sometimes spilling a bit too much. you knew he had issues and was angry, but you never thought he'd ever actually kill for you.

๋࣭ ⭑ he could never let you know that he's killed before though. he knew you were soft and not like him. he was aware that if you had found out there would be no saving it, no coming back.

๋࣭ ⭑ so he did everything in secret, chalked it up to coincidence. you puked in bed, leading him to have to nurse you back to health? must've been the shrimp. the town is on lockdown due to the deaths recently, all of them being people that you despised or despised you? karma.

๋࣭ ⭑ the sweet boy persona worked so well, even having you fooled. even when he dicked you down into the mattress, claiming you, making you say you'd never leave him and that he was the only boy for you, you thought he just cared about you.

๋࣭ ⭑ he cared about nobody but himself. you were the closest he's ever got to caring for someone. he wanted to hurt anybody who hurt you, going lower than those who went low. but that was because he knew if they really hurt you, you'd be gone, and that wouldn't be good for him. it was always about him.

๋࣭ ⭑ even once, you insisted to go roller skating with some classmates you didn't even classify as friends, yet, but you would. so, he followed you. he couldn't just force you to stay home, but you needed to learn a lesson.

๋࣭ ⭑ he would cower around the rink as Quinn, his accomplice, "accidentally" crashed into you. For safe measure, she cushioned herself with knee and elbow pads. You, already great at skating, had nothing to help break your fall.

๋࣭ ⭑ you yelped loud enough for the whole plex to hear, your arm broken. Quinn was quick to apologize for the "mistake," it all being a face as she shared the same sociopathic traits with her brother.

๋࣭ ⭑ your friends took you to the hospital, and you called him unaware that he was still following you, already on his way.

๋࣭ ⭑ he coddled you when he saw you laying in bed with a cast on your arm, and you were quick to hug him as much as you could.

“I let you out of my sight for a couple of hours, god, promise you won't leave me again.”

“I won't Eth, I'm so sorry. I promise.”

[myhairpintrigger]

hello!! hope ur having a great day! i read ur recent piece and was completely bewitched by your writing 🫶🏽

i saw ur reqs were open and wanted to request the following!

darkling x reader, where the reader misinterprets his relationship with alina, and pulls away from him (maybe they were friends / acquaintances before?) but they don’t know that the darkling secretly has his eyes set them only. so one night at a ball, when the reader is flirting / dancing with a grisha, they’re confused as to why the darkling snatches up to his quarters? and a confession entails 🫶🏽 could it be some smut if u wish?

thank u !! <3

my lovely anon, I apologise for the quality of this imagine </3 I stayed up far too late to finish it.

as always I am begging for more requests. pls send them in

warnings: smut, a little bit of angst. please only read if 18+

word count: 6.5k

Yours

(Aleksander morozova x AFAB!reader)

-

The first day you realized that something had changed was a mere day after the Sun Summoner arrived at the Little Palace. You sat at a table with Aleksander and David early in the morning and you stirred honey into your cup of steaming tea and your eyes traveled back and forth between David’s distracted eyes and Aleksander’s very focused ones. The intensity upon which Aleksander stared off with was not uncommon, in fact, you’d learned that it was actually quite normal for him. The two of you had become friends when he had found you, a skilled Heartrender, working on the frontlines with his army and had eventually relocated you to the Little Palace. He gave an excuse saying that you were more useful here than out close to the war, but you eventually came to suspect that he worried about you just enough to put you somewhere safer. Ever since being moved to Os Alta, the two of you had only become closer, spending almost every moment with one another. You considered him to be your closest friend and you were grateful to be considered his in return.

  You decided to break the comfortable silence by clearing your throat and flashing an excited smile at Aleksander, “Are you still taking me riding today?” you asked expectantly, excited to finally see your best friend after weeks of him being away.

He tore his dark eyes away from the wall he had been so fixed on and he reached across the table and patted your hand affectionately and his face softened apologetically, “I am terribly sorry, darling. I have to take care of a few things with Miss Starkov. Can I take you tomorrow instead? Just after breakfast, I promise.” 

Your eyes raked his face and you blinked a couple of times. You let out an understanding hum and then nodded, “Yeah, that's fine. I know you're busy. Just don’t ditch me again, or you’ll be sorry.” you threatened with a wink and pointed at him with the spoon you were just stirring your tea with.

“Ditch you? I could never.” 

But he did. He did ditch you. Quite literally, too. You had hurried through breakfast excitedly and hardly wasted any time going out to the stables, to find that he wasn’t there yet. You waited for nearly half an hour, first messing with your horse’s mane and then moving into the stall adjacent to greet Aleksander’s horse. When it reached an hour and he still hadn’t come, you let out a low huff and you dragged your hand through your hair moodily. He had never stood you up before. Ever. If there was one person who was always true to their word, it was Aleksander. You decided to cut your losses and walked out of the stables, a slight worry growing in your stomach. Perhaps something had happened, that was the only explanation as to why he would have simply not come. Your face twisted worriedly and you hurried inside to check on him. You made your way to his chambers as fast as you could and you swung the door open to reveal an empty room. You stood in the doorway confusedly and you reached up with one hand to rub your face with your palm and you let out a long sigh. Where on earth could he be? You wondered, taking a step back out of his room. You felt your back collide with someone and you spun around to see Zoya’s bitter face, though, right now it looked particularly like she’d bitten into an especially sour rhubarb, all scrunched up and angry.

“Oh, my apologies, Zoya. I didn’t see you.” You said, keeping your tone as light as you could, not wanting to set the feisty girl off.

She simply nodded once at you and you grabbed onto her arm gently. Despite her fiery personality and overall unpleasantness, you never had any qualms with the talented Squaller, so you gave her a sympathetic look and gently brushed your thumb across her arm where you held it, “What’s wrong? You look upset.” 

The contempt in the girl’s eyes didn't lessen upon your question, in fact, it just got worse, “I’m so sick of seeing that stupid girl getting paraded around on Kirigan’s arm. All morning she’s been stuck to his side while he’s been introducing her to just about everyone under the sun,” Zoya let out a sound that resembled a scoff and a grunt mixed together and you let go of her arm, “and furthermore, it doesn’t help that he looks at her like she’s going to personally hang each and every star in his sky.”

You looked at her curiously, your jaw dropping, “He… He’s been doing that this morning?” you asked, clearly shocked. The Squaller nodded once and then she pointed down the hall towards the banquet room and you blinked a few times, your chest filling with something between fury and disappointment, and without another word, you trudged down the hall and stood in the doorway to indeed find Aleksander with his hand on Alina’s back as he was introducing her to a few of his friends. You stood there unmoving for a while before his eyes shifted and fell upon you, and you watched the polite smile melt off of his lips and turn into instant regret when he saw you. You could tell he was readying himself to walk to you, but you only scoffed and spun on your heel, leaving his sights immediately.

-

The week following, you had successfully avoided Aleksander, though you were almost sure that he hadn’t been looking for you all too urgently. It was nearly midnight and you sat in the library with Genya, a habit the two of you had formed together when you couldn’t sleep. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a long time before she cleared her throat.

“The General was looking for you today.” she remarked casually as possible, not bothering to look up from her book.

You didn’t dare look up from your own, wanting to avoid the emotion that would betray your face if you looked up into her kind eyes, “Well, he knows where to find me, so I doubt it was all too pressing.” you replied. 

The only sound in the room for a few moments afterwards was the turning of pages and the crackling of the fireplace. You felt your nose begin to sting a bit and you almost laughed in spite of yourself. There was no way you were tearing up over this.

“Why don’t you just talk to him if you are upset about the Sun Summoner situation?” she asked, her voice flat, and you could tell she was half distracted by her book.

“Alina Starkov is not upsetting me.” you sputtered, your cheeks flushing.

Genya flicked her eyes up at you and then back at her book and she shrugged, “You seemed pretty bothered by her and him the other night at dinner. I’ve not seen you ever sit with Zoya before and she, too, is having her own conflicts with Alina.” Genya pointed out and you simply shook your head and buried your nose back into your book, but Genya wasn’t done yet, “I invited him to join us in the library tonight.” she added and then looked back into her own book.

You closed your own book so hard that the smack echoed in the warm room and you stood up from the chair, “Well, tell him I went to bed early.” you muttered

“Or you can bid me goodnight before you leave.” 

You froze in your place and looked over at the door to see Aleksander standing there in the dim light. He wasn’t wearing his kefta and his hair looked a bit out of place and he had a soft smile on his lips. Everything about the man looked so inviting and sweet in that moment, and you had to swallow the feeling that bubbled up from your stomach into your chest and up through your throat that screamed at you to run into his arms. You impressed even yourself when you stayed rooted to the ground and you shrugged once, setting your book down on the table next to the armchair you sat in.

“Would you even care to hear it if it wasn’t in Alina’s voice?” you snapped, your hands sliding into the pockets of your fluffy bed robe. You stared at him defiantly and he cocked an eyebrow upwards at your words.

“Don’t be childish.” he chided and then took a few steps into the room, closing the double doors behind him gently. Genya took this as a good opportunity to get up from her chair and scuttle out of the library like a retreating animal, leaving you alone with Aleksander.

His words infuriated you and you shook your head and looked down.

“I have every right to be a little childish right now. You stood me up. You’ve never done that to me before.” you said indignantly and looked up at him again. You wore a stone expression on your face, but as you met his eyes, your own eyes burned with hot tears. You tried to keep them from falling over your bottom lashes, but your chin wobbled and you instantly lowered your face into your hands and hid it from him. You didn’t have to look up to know that he was approaching you, and when he reached you, he gently grabbed your arms and pulled your hands away from your face. You were sure the look on your face was pathetic, because you watched his ever-serious eyes soften greatly, and he reached up to wipe your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Oh, y/n. Don’t cry, please. I'll make it up to you. I swear it. I know I’ve been distant as of late and I am terribly sorry. I didn’t know it hurt you like this.” he said with a sincerity you seldom heard from him. You felt weak and desperate at the same time and you leaned forward and planted your face against his chest. This certainly was not the first time that Aleksander has seen you cry, and it wouldn’t be the last, but you couldn’t help but feel ashamed this time. His arms found their way around you and he gently pet your hair as if you were a kitten in distress.

“Let me take you riding tomorrow afternoon, sweetheart. I promise I’ll show up this time. Why don’t you meet me in the courtyard around noon? Yeah? And we can spend the afternoon together before my meetings.” he offered, his tone velvety and soothing, making you feel much more at ease, bit by bit. 

You nodded once and stayed against him for a few more minutes before you pulled back and looked up into his eyes. He looked down at you in return with a certain serenity you’d not seen in his eyes before and for the first time in the last three years of knowing Aleksander, you wanted him to kiss you right there and then. The thought surprised you deeply and this must have been evident on your face because his own face twisted in curiosity and he cocked his head to the side.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked gently and you didn’t respond. Not outwardly, at least. You wanted to know where the sudden urge to kiss your best friend came from, and why. You knew for absolute certain that, for one, Aleksander did not see you as anything other than his closest friend, and that was evident in many ways but mainly because you knew he had been actively sleeping with Zoya as recently as a month ago. For another, you knew that if this was a path you let your mind go down, you would eventually have to say something to him, and by doing so, you would jeopardize your entire friendship. But then that also begged the question: did he value your friendship? The past week had you questioning this much more than you were willing to admit to yourself for comfortability reasons, because despite your best efforts to hide from him, if he wanted to find you, he simply would have. And of course, there was the matter of Alina too. His Sun Summoner. His Equal. The current recipient of his attention and the topic of his every thought. You were ashamed to admit even just to yourself that you were jealous of the sun girl for taking away your closest friend, but the truth of the matter is: you were. You were angry and you were hurt, and the multitude of realizations and emotions that had come to you in the last five minutes filled you with dread. The kind of dread that filled you slowly, as slow and quiet as one of Aleksander’s shadows. Your stomach twisted painfully as your mind raced and you began to feel rather anxious. You’d almost forgotten that you were in Aleksander’s arms until he shook you a little bit and looked down at you with concern.

“Y/n. You look ill.” he commented and you wiggled yourself free of his arms and you shook your head.

You let out a puff of air and you rubbed your eyes. She was important to him, he seemed content, and you were just the best friend that wanted him to kiss you. The panic of it all consumed you and you gently pushed him away from you and you shook your head, “No. I don’t wanna go riding with you tomorrow,” you breathed. You wanted to get away from him, you wanted to stop feeling so overwhelmed. You had to push him away before he picked Alina over you or before you could say something stupid and ruin it all anyway, “I want you to leave me alone, Aleksander. Go back to your Sun Summoner or whatever. Just leave me be.” you said pathetically and you shielded him from seeing your face with your hand and you brushed past him and darted towards the door and slipped out of the library, holding a sob in until you reached your room.

-

Aleksander hadn’t sought you out in almost three weeks now. Of course you’d seen him in passing in the halls and such, but you hadn’t stopped to say hello. Rumors were now swirling around the Little Palace about him and Alina being a little bit more than just… friendly. In fact, the day that he asked to take you riding, he’d instead gone with her, and one of the servants for Alina told someone who told someone else who told Zoya, who inevitably told you, that he’d even tried to get her to start wearing black. His color. Of course this tore your insides up, but by the third week of ignoring Aleksander, the rumors stopped surprising you, and the sadnesses and pains were reduced to a dull ache that only bothered you when you dwelled on it. Which you tried to make as infrequent as possible.

You were awoken today by a loud knock on your door and when you finally mustered up the will to rise and answer the knock, you were pushed back into your room while Genya pushed her way in. She laid a thin, white box down on a small table you had in the middle of your room and she sighed, pointing at it.

“This was just finished this morning. I had them change it. I didn’t think you’d like the initial… design.” she explained and you eyed the box curiously.

You finally walked up to the table and opened up the box and pulled out an intricate, long red dress with silver embroidery over the sides of it and you looked up at Genya, confused, “What do I need a dress for?” you asked, but then remembered as soon as the words left your mouth. The Queen’s birthday party was that evening, and you had promised Aleksander you’d go with him. You stuffed the dress back in the box and closed the lid, shaking your head.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be insolent. Come with me if you’re going to be that petty. But this dress took forever and you’re gonna look so nice in it. You’ll have fun, you always do.”

Yeah because I always go with Aleksander, you thought and then looked up at Genya for a long time, contemplating. She stared you down in return and you were determined not to buckle under the intensity of the redhead’s stare, but you did nonetheless and you sighed dramatically.

“I'll go. But I’m not staying all night and you cannot do another set up. I mean it. I don’t want to be around him.” You stated and she agreed, pointing to the box.

“Then get yourself ready please. You’ve slept late enough as it is.”

- 

The walk to the grand ballroom was made with your arm linked with Genya’s, and many bystanders that were standing outside of the party rather than within, all cleared out of your way when the two of you walked past. You supposed it was either due to the fact that you two were so clearly Grisha or perhaps it was the dreary look you wore on your face. Either way, you didn’t mind it. Once inside of the ballroom, Genya finally released your arm and she caught a server and grabbed two glasses of wine and passed one to you.

“You do look nice, you know.” she said kindly and you glanced down at your dress. It was true, she had done a lovely job at fixing you up so that you were presentable for the party- she’d even put some intricate little braids in your hair.

“Thank you, Genya.” you said softly and she gave you an affirming nod before she squeezed your arm gently. You took a sip of your wine and went to say something else to your friend, but instead your attention was pulled elsewhere. Up close to the King and Queen, Aleksander stood with a pleasant smile on his face. He was dressed in all black, looking much more regal than usual. As you would have expected, Alina stood next to him in a simple yellow gown, and he had his hand resting against the middle of her back. You turned away, but not before Aleksander could catch a glimpse of you. You pushed down the ache that you so often found yourself suppressing and you turned your attention to Genya now, who was talking to a Inferni boy now, and when you inserted yourself into their conversation, she eagerly introduced you to the boy who simply went by Eli. 

Eli was kind and he was friendly, and even when Genya walked away to greet David, you had no problem staying back and chatting with the boy. After what seemed like hours of talking to him, he offered you his hand and gave you a bashful smile, which you returned.

“Can I dance with you? Or rather, will you dance with me?” he asked clumsily and you let out a giggle and graciously accepted the offer, not aware of The General’s bottomless eyes boring into your back and staring daggers at your dance partner. His jaw tightened and he had begun to phase in and out of the conversation he held with Alina, The King, and the prince Vasily. 

The Darkling’s hand shook around the glass he held and he didn’t dare tear his eyes off of the dancing pair, worried that if he did, they’d disappear together. 

You danced with Eli with elation and you let out a content sigh, “You’re pretty good at dancing, you know.” you pointed out, and the boy blushed brightly.

“I learned when I was fairly young. Just something my parents insisted on.” he said humbly and you simply let out a little laugh and continued to dance with him.

Aleksander watched you laugh from his spot across the room and felt a certain patience inside of him snap. He set his glass of wine down on a table near them and he excused himself gruffly as he walked through the crowd of partygoers to reach you and your dance partner.

When he finally did, you didn’t notice until Eli had frozen in place and stared off over your shoulder. You looked up at the boy concernedly, but he simply bowed his head slightly and you turned your head back over your shoulder to see Aleksander standing there, his face cold and furious.

“May I steal your dance partner from you for a moment or two?” he asked icily and Eli nodded, clearly nervous to be in the presence of the Black General. The boy dropped your hands and stepped away from you before Aleksander grabbed your wrist and yanked you towards the door. You tried to stand your ground and not allow him to drag you, but that lasted for all of two seconds when he completely overpowered you, tugging you out of the ballroom and out into the courtyard.

Once you were outside, you tried to pull away from his iron grasp again, but he simply yanked you up closer to him and glared down at you with an anger that burned like fire in his eyes, and he spat one word in a tone that chilled you to the bone: “Don’t.” 

You looked up at him, clearly frightened now, and he continued to drag you the rest of the way across the courtyard and to the Little Palace. Once you two had arrived inside, he grasped the back of your neck and steered you to his chambers. Though silent, you could practically hear the rage in his breath, and you could certainly feel it radiating off of his skin. Why he was so mad, you couldn’t figure out, but you assumed you were just about to find out why.

He gave you a little shove into his bedroom and he slammed the door behind you two and locked it, finally letting go of your neck.

You spun around to face him, but the second you did, he grabbed your wrists and pushed you back against the wall.

“Who do you think you are?” he asked furiously, his grip tightening around your wrists enough to make you yelp. 

“Excuse me?” you squeaked, taken aback by the sudden physicality and anger he was displaying, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t scare you.

His lip twitched upwards in disgust and he shook his head rigorously, “Oh, don’t play dumb.” he warned and you looked up at his face that was consumed with rage and you shrunk back a bit. You wanted to fight back, but he’d never ever been this way with you, let alone raised his voice to you.

You opened your mouth to speak but he held up a hand and effectively silenced you, “You ignore me for almost a month now and then go and blatantly parade yourself around with another man in front of me, in a dress completely different than the one I had made for you. If you’re trying to enrage me, y/n, let me begin with how well it happens to be working.” he seethed and leaned closer to your face.

You gaped up at Aleksander and opened your mouth to speak again, but words seemed to have escaped you. The wrathful fury on his face twisted his soft features into something you didn’t recognize, and you suddenly knew why his enemies were so fearful of him. You’d only seen him angry once, and it was during a battle. This ferocity that he displayed reminded you vividly of that, and suddenly you couldn’t take it anymore. Your bottom lip wobbled a few times before a sob escaped your lips, and by then, the softening of Aleksander’s features was pointless. You buried your face in your hands and you shied away from him as much as you could. He very slowly moved his face away from yours and he felt his stomach drop as you sunk down to the floor, instantly pulling your knees up to your chest as you cried into them. 

Aleksander often prided himself on his patience and even temper, his ability to control himself at all times. He felt white hot shame brand his insides and he dropped to his knees in front of you and he took your hands in his own, to which you promptly pulled away. 

“y/n…” he began and you shook your head a few times.

“No! No, Aleksander! You don’t get to make this better now!” you cried and he watched you with an ache in his chest that wouldn’t let up. 

“My love, let me make this right, I should not have ye-”

“I said no!” you exclaimed, hurt and sadness swirling around in your chest, “nothing you can ever say will make this right! You have been unfair to me ever since Alina came here! You have not been a good friend, and I wanted to just forgive you so badly, but you never even bothered to apologize properly, and it doesn’t help that you go and display her on your arm every day. She’s your little saint, your miracle, whatever else, I get it, but I can’t just stand here and watch anymore while I have to sit on the sidelines and just be in love with you silently as she gets all of your time and attention!” you blurted and then you placed your hand over your mouth and looked up at him with wide eyes.

The room was silent. There was no trace of malice on his face, it was as if it had never even been there in the first place. Your eyes watered even more in embarrassment and you moved to stand up, but Aleksander delicately caught your arm and pulled you close to him.

“I didn’t mean any of that, I just-”

But he cut you off by tugging you down by your arm and shut you up entirely with a kiss that would have brought you to your knees if you were standing. He could taste the salt from your tears on the corners of your lips and you could taste the strong red wine he’d been drinking at the party on his, and you blushed darkly when he parted his lips and bit down on your bottom lip, tugging it backwards some before he released it and broke the kiss. His forehead met yours and you closed your eyes tightly, your brain trying to comprehend what had just happened.

He let out a short breath that tickled your face and he stared into your eyes, and at this close proximity, his looked like two pits of pure blackness, “My dearest friend, I will never be able to apologize enough for the way I have behaved tonight with you, for the way I have failed to see your pain, for all of it. But you must listen to me and know my words ring true when I say that there is nothing going on between Alina and I. Do you want to take a guess as to why, Little Angel?” he asked and you closed your eyes and shook your head once. He was quiet for a long time before he let go of your arms and took you into his entirely, cradling you against his chest, “Because, my love, I have only wanted you. I am so terribly and adamantly in love with you and you alone.” he insisted, and you would be more inclined not to believe him if it weren’t for the tone of desperation that was clear in his voice.

You pulled your head back to look up at him and you blinked back more tears, which he must have noticed, because he brushed away the wetness from your under eyes with his thumbs. You studied his face for any trace of falsity, but found none, and you didn’t know what else to say, so you said nothing at all and instead, moved in to let your lips touch his for the second time that night. The kiss was tentative and experimental at first, but he quickly changed that as he swept a hand up into your hair and pressed your lips closer to his, and you let him take the lead. Of course you’d been kissed before, it wasn’t as if you didn’t know what you were doing, but nothing had ever felt like this before. It was as if each kiss was an expression of emotion all of its own. You felt his happiness, his desperation, and his affections for you all in that one kiss, and it had you crumbling under his touch. He pulled back only when air became necessary and he stared into your eyes for a long time before his lips crashed into yours once again. This time, the kiss was much hungrier, much more intense than the last two, and Aleksander grabbed onto your jaw, holding you in place. You let out a soft whine into his mouth and he broke away instantly, his bewildered eyes searching yours.

“Let me show you that I am yours.” he whispered and you looked up at him almost hazily. You gave him a little nod and he leaned back in to place a wet string of kisses against your exposed neck, biting down every now and then to leave a little mark against your skin. You reached up and tangled your fingers within his neatly done hair and you gave it a little tug, earning you a groan from him. He pulled back briefly only to grab at the neckline of your dress and he nodded towards you.

“Are you okay with this? All of it?” he asked and you needed only give him a nod before he was yanking the gauzy dress up over your head and you lifted your arms to help him rid you of the clothing. You gasped softly at the cool air of his room when it touched your bare chest and Aleksander stood up, pulling you with him as if you were weightless, and he brought you to his bed and laid you back against it. By now, the anticipation of what was to come was beginning to set in and you bit down on your bottom lip as you stared up at him. He unfastened his kefta and shrugged it off before he leaned back over you and attached his lips to your neck again, his hands both finding their way down to your thighs. 

No words needed to be exchanged, he simply looked at you with one eyebrow cocked up questioningly and you nodded once before he nudged your legs open and he brought one hand up to trace one finger over your clothed clit. Your mouth opened slightly and you wiggled your hips down toward his touch just a bit. He laid one hand on your hip to keep you from moving and he glanced up at your face and shook his head, “Calm down. I’m going to take care of you, Angel. Have patience.” he said, his voice as smooth as the black silk sheets that adorned his bed. He dragged his finger up and down your covered folds and he let out a little sigh before he carefully ridded you of your underwear.  He tossed the garment aside and he outstretched his fingers to collect a bit of your growing wetness on the tips of his fingers and you looked down at him with a frown. 

“Aleksander, please.” you pleaded, needing him to do anything at this point.

He seemed to finally understand your need for his touch and he carefully slid one of his fingers inside of you, brushing the pad of his finger against your walls. You let out a little whimper and he began to slowly pump his finger in and out of you. You closed your eyes and willed yourself to be patient while he seemingly toyed with you, and just when you were about to beg for something more, he dipped his head downwards and covered your clit with his lips, taking the sensitive bundle into his mouth and he sucked at it gently. You tossed your head backwards and gasped his name, and he took this as an opportunity to add another finger inside of you and he curled them upwards, his fingertips pressing a spot that had you gasping for air. Noticing this, he repeated the motion a few times before he moved his fingers in and out of you faster now. He flicked your clit with his tongue a few times and you reached down with one hand to grasp at his hair. He moved his mouth away from you and reached up with his hand that held your hips down to lazily rub at your clit with his thumb.

“You sound so pretty for me, you know.” he cooed and you looked down at him, your lip trembling a bit.

“Aleksander, please.” you whispered and he raised his eyebrows.

“Please, what?” he asked, a devilish glint flashing across his eyes.

You struggled to find words as his fingers continue to hit that one spot and you moaned, your head falling to the side a bit, “Please, I need you to fuck me.” you whimpered and he looked up at your face and he let out a little hum.

“You need me to fuck you?” he asked playfully and you nodded a few times, closing your thighs around his hand. He thought about it for an agonizing moment before he nodded and pulled his fingers out of you. He brought them to his lips and licked them a few times before he brought them to your lips instead and nodded once.

“Open your mouth.” he commanded, and you did so without argument, allowing him to slide his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on his long, slender fingers and looked up into his eyes and he turned his head and cursed quietly under his breath before he pulled his fingers from your mouth. He sat up on his knees and ridded himself of his clothes and stood to get his pants off, which had become tighter in the moments that had passed. He let out a sigh of relief when he freed his cock from his pants and he crawled back over you and settled himself between your thighs. 

“Look me in the eyes.” he commanded and you obeyed immediately, “I am yours. Wholly. Say it.” he ordered and you blushed softly.

“You’re mine.” you whispered, and he gave you a nod.

“And you’re mine. Say it.”

“I’m yours.” you whispered, and a proud little smile made your lips curl upwards.

“Good. Such a good little Angel.” he murmured and reached down to position his cock at your entrance. He slid into you very slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a moan, shuddering just slightly when he had finally fit his entire length inside of you. He waited just like that for a moment until you whined and rolled your hips against his, and he took this as a signal to move. He drew his hips back and moved them forward into you once again and you reached up to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Oh, saints, Aleksander.” you moaned and he reached up to grab your chin.

“Keep your eyes on mine. Don't look away.” he breathed and you nodded, your eyes staying glued to his as he began to rock his hips against yours steadily. He never sped up too much, but instead kept the same medium pace, allowing you to feel every single inch of him, and he leaned down to kiss your lips a few times, “So good, darling. You feel so good.” he praised and you reached down to grab one of his hands. You grabbed onto it and dragged it down between your thighs and you pressed it down against your clit. He took your not so subtle hint and he pressed his thumb back down against your clit firmly and began to rub it in circles in time with his thrusts, which gradually became harder.

He hit a spot within you that rendered you entirely breathless and he took advantage of this, making sure to hit that spot every time. He had you seeing stars in the edges of your vision and you felt tension building rapidly in your stomach. Aleksander could feel you tighten around him and he moved his thumb against your clit a bit faster now, determined to get you to your climax, which he could tell you were steadily approaching. He drove his cock into you with a bit more speed now and you arched your back off of the mattress and whimpered his name, causing a proud smile to form on his lips. His name, of which was kept a secret to nearly all of the world, was now falling from your lips in ecstasy, and it filled him with a sense of pride, and he fucked you harder, still moving his thumb against your clit. He could tell you were close by the way you squeezed his cock and he gave you a soft nod, his eyes meeting yours, “Eyes on mine, darling. Tell me who you belong to.” he prompted, making sure to hit that spot deep inside of you each time he drove his hips forward.

“Y-yours. I’m yours, Aleksander.” you stammered and kept your eyes on his. All it took was one perfect thrust more, and you were cumming around him, your fingernails digging into his shoulders. He intently watched the way your face went dazed as you came and your release triggered his own, and he came nearly right after you, still fucking you through both of your orgasms. He finally slowed when the two of you came down from your highs and he moved his thumb away from your clit and went to sit up, but you tugged him back down.

“No. Stay like this for a little longer. For me.” you requested in just a whisper, and Aleksander nodded once, keeping himself inside of you, his head settling against your chest. The two of you laid there in the soft candlelit afterglow and he placed a few lazy kisses to your chest.

“I love you, you know. I am deeply ashamed of my outburst earlier.” he said softly.

You simply hummed and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, “I love you too. You’re mine.” you said sweetly, a wave of exhaustion overtaking you. Your eyes fluttered shut and the last thing you remember hearing before you drifted off was the soft voice of your lover, whispering back what you now already knew.

“I’m yours.”

[starstruckmoony]

paper rings.

masterlist

pairing - sirius black x reader

summary - you make paper rings for yourself and sirius in potions class.

trope/tags - lots of fluff

word count - 1.3k

warnings - language

potions were never really your cup of tea. you could never wrap your head around anything you'd learn about them at all. the recepies, the effects, why people even made some of them knowing how awful the consequences could be- in other words, you loathed the class.

to top it all off, you were slughorn's least favourite student, or at least that what was what you managed to convince yourself. you had a feeling that the man was out to get you. you were pretty certain that he could sense your negative energy whenever you stepped through the door. sirius always tried his best to reassure you, but you were certain that your professor would get a thrill whenever you would ruin a potion or accidentally curse in the middle of his class because it meant that he could give you detention.

the class started off quite alright that day. slughorn was in a rather good mood and he settled for only having you all read a passage from your books, which was very conveniently about the most powerful love potion itself - amortentia.

you and sirius finished with reading the writing you were given by your professor a bit sooner than the other students, which meant you were left with nothing to kill the remaining time. the bloody thirty five minutes of it.

since you couldn't actually speak to your boyfriend, because that would result in the both of you getting detention (and having sirius get in trouble just because he happened to have some involvement with you was the last thing you needed), you were forced to look for a new form of entertainment - which somehow happened to be making rings out of paper. sirius was not as successful as you, though, he tried to find something interesting about the dirty classroom ceiling and he looked like all life had been drained out of him. nobody could blame him. remus wasn't doing any better either, the taller boy was absolutely exhausted and he had fallen asleep only a few minutes after the lesson started.

"fuck." you whispered, mostly to yourself, when the tiny piece of parchment in your hand refused to bend in the direction you wanted it to. sirius noticed your sudden change in attitude and got intrigued by what you were up to.

"what's that?" he shifted in his seat, curiously looking over your arm to get a better look at your doings.

"paper rings." you whispered in response, a happy smile making its way to your face when you finally finished with the second one. he took one of the rings into his hands and observed it for a moment before sliding it onto his finger, showing it off to you with the biggest grin. it fit perfectly.

"i wonder who was on your mind when you made this." he smirked in satisfaction and inched a little closer to you. you laughed quietly, glancing over at slughorn who was too busy with other things to notice that you weren't exactly doing what you were supposed to.

"your little brother. such a nice bloke, isn't he?" you teased, sliding the other ring onto your own finger. he snorted at your sarcastic reply to his stupid remark, but immediately composed himself once he heard slughorn clear throat. the man glared in his direction, and sirius quickly put his head down and pretended like he was still the reading the text from his book.

because of that, you had to spend the next few minutes sitting in complete silence. the only thing that could be heard was ticking of the old clock on the wall. twenty five sodding minutes.

you couldn't wait to finally leave the godforsaken class and head to your next one. you weren't even sure which lesson you needed to attend after potions, yet all you wanted to do was to get the hell out of there, even if your next class was going to be something just as frustrating. you would rather have sat through five hours of divination than whatever that was.

sirius seemed to have decided that he wanted to put his good reputation at risk, yet again. being one of the best students in the year and coming from a family that was known as noble had its perks, but sirius had always told himself that it had more disadvantages than anything else. he was supposed to be a model student, and set an example to others. that irked him the most, as it was pretty challenging for a marauder, considering he got detention at least ten times that year and november had barely started. he thought about it for a while, but after he realised he was probably no longer in professor slughorn's good graces after receiving that glare anyway, he moved dangerously close to you. you felt his breath fanning over your ear, his lips were almost pressing against it.

"i think i might ask you to marry me with one of these in a few years." he broke the silence between the two of you, whispering those words only for you to hear. that simple sentence turned your face crimson red. you inhaled sharply in attempt to hold back the surprised giggle that was threatening to escape.

"you're mental." you guffawed, hiding your blushing face in your arms that were rested on the table. he smiled in satisfaction, that was the very reaction he wanted to get from you and he'd never felt so proud of himself. that shit-eating grin of his only left his face when you pressed your own lips against his ear.

"wanna know a secret? i'd say yes." you said the words with a smirk and knew all too well that they sent him into a frenzy. one could say he was malfunctioning. you bit your lip harshly, struggling to keep yourself together. sirius turned his head look at you, and neither of you could hold back your laughter for any longer after seeing each other's rose red faces.

"miss l/n! mister black!" slughorn looked at the two of you in shock. he did not miss the mess that you created on the table, or the rings that you and sirius had on your fingers either. his surprised reaction and the sheer terror you saw in him only made the giggles more difficult to stifle, so you accidentally laughed in his face.

"miss l/n!" the poor man could barely keep himself together, so he glanced over at sirius as if he was the last possible resort (which he was), searching for some form of explanation, "mister black, what's the meaning of this?"

"well, if you must know, we were just about to start planning our wedding." he cleared his throat as he spoke, trying to come off as formal as he possibly could. his serious facial expression and the blaringly obvious mocking tone of his voice made you snort, which sent the rest of the students into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. james was having a hard time breathing, and the whole commotion had woken poor remus up.

"very well. i will see you both after class. you are free to leave now." professor slughorn said blankly, walking back to his table and putting his glasses on as he returned to grading a pile of essays.

"yes, professor." sirius choked out, tugging at the sleeve of your jumper. you left the classroom snickering, and not without almost falling over because of your clumsy sprint.

"planning our wedding?" you questioned in amusement as you walked with him in the hallway, and he intertwined your fingers with his.

"yes, i'd like to think we just got engaged. " he pointed out what he thought was obvious, that smug smile never leaving his face.

"oh-" he kissed your cheek before you could put your thoughts into words, and you realised that getting in trouble this time may have indeed been worth it.

[generalkenobee]

Ted Theodore Logan Headcannons

This story contains NSFW headcannons and SFW headcannons

• The first time he sees you literal heart eyes-

•I mean you guys don't even have to be dating for him to not talk to other girls

•he thinks that it's disrespectful to even look at other girls now that you've officially introduced yourself to him

•talks about you all the time, to Bill, his dad, even Deacon

• literally looks at you like you're a fallen angel

• attached at. The. Hip. He never leaves you alone

•he'll walk you to every single one of your classes

•shares everything with you! He brought some gum to school? he brought 3 pieces (you, him, and Bill)

•he let's you pick his outfits when you ask

•compliments!!!

•you guys share clothes. Not in the way where he gives you his coats. I mean he'll take your socks 😭

•genuinely loves listening to you talk, he'll sit there for hours just staring while you talk about how practice is going or rehearsal, or just your day? He's all for it and ready to hear about it

•matching outfits...

•so many photos of you in his room...all over his bookshelf, his desk, even in his drawers

•he truly thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen

•I think he's low-key self conscious about not being very smart or good at sports, he thinks you can do better

•kisses no matter what, you haven't brushed your teeth yet? No problem, chapped lips? Ted literally could not care less, you could spit in his mouth and he'd be happy

•takes any kind of affection he can get

•I just know he gives the best hugs ever

•Tells Bill ALL about you

•doesn't pay attention in any classes except for health because he wants to learn about menstruation because you're always complaining about your 'period' so he wanted to know what it was (he got a c+ in heath and you were insanely proud of him)

•your parents don't like him because he's 'stupid' and you could 'do better', so he sneaks into your room almost every night

•has cried to you about his dad and how pressured he feels before

-NSFW-

•ok so I know not a lot of people will argue but like, hasn't even thought about actually having sex till you guys get together

•so so so thankful when you give him any sort of pleasure

•honestly submissive

•will finger you for hours on end

•doesn't like public sex, he doesn't want to do anything that could result in you being uncomfortable or exposed because he wants to be the only person to see you like that

•loves when you pull his hair

•giving you pleasure gives him pleasure

•came in his pants one time while eating you out

•the first sexual experience you had together was in his bed with you jerking him off and he finished in under a minute

•eye contact!!!!

•the first time you ever came around his cock he went absolutely fucking farel

If you have any ideas about Ted please share because I have lots more to say!!💕

[leslie-lyman]

Menagerie

Part of the Euclidean Geometry ‘verse

Summary: Early on in their relationship, when everything is new and exciting and uncertain, Pero introduces their girl to his work as a glass artist.

Pairing: modern!Pero Tovar x Frankie x Jack x nameless!OFC/f!reader (written in third person, reader is only referred to as she/her, with no physical descriptors)

Word count: 3.9k

Rating: Explicit 🚨 absolutely no minors!

Warnings: smut; mentions of sex between everyone in this polycule (Frankie x Jack x Pero x reader), but the actual smut is just Pero x reader; unprotected PIV; completely unregulated POV switching; that thing where I write all the dialogue in italics instead of using quotation marks because it just feels right for this series for some reason?; everything your author mentions here about glassmaking she learned from YouTube/Google

a/n: look mom, I actually finished a fic again! Maybe my ability to write hasn’t abandoned me after all…?

Masterlist.

———

She notices the sculptures the very first time they take her home. (Though not, she must admit, until the morning after, having been awfully distracted the night before by the attention Frankie, Pero, and Jack lavished her with on the way to their bed.)

Three glass animal figures sit together in a proud display in the living room built-ins next to the fireplace: a falcon, wings spread wide and claws poised to attack; a rearing horse, tall and magnificent; and a bull, one hoof raised and head lowered as it prepares to charge.

They are Pero’s work. In his post-Army career he now runs a small but highly regarded workshop of glass artisans, all veterans like himself.

His talent is obvious. Each feather in the falcon’s wings is rendered in exquisite detail. The horse stands on just his back two feet, perfectly balanced. The bull’s pose denotes a gracefulness underlying all that brute strength. They feel alive.

It’s the three of them, they tell her.

Frankie, the pilot, is the falcon. Precise, controlled, deadly. Vigilant. Protective.

Jack, the cowboy, is the horse. Proud, independent, wild. Confident. Courageous.

And Pero, of course, is the bull. Strong, stubborn, fierce. Masculine. Powerful.

There’s evidence of his work elsewhere in the house the three of them now share. Their kitchen cabinets are full of mismatched glasses, bowls, and plates, many of them early versions of new techniques or designs Pero worked to master before offering them as options to clients. The base of an end table in the den is a cresting glass wave nearly three feet tall. Brilliantly colored vases that sell for thousands at the workshop line either side of the back deck steps, filled with impatiens and begonias carefully tended by Frankie.

Pero asks her to come to the workshop with him one day, and she can sense without being told that such an offer is significant. It’s still early on in…whatever this is between her and the three of them. Early enough that it hasn’t solidified yet, it hasn’t settled. She wants them, all of them, and they want her (all of her), but whether the fantasy can manifest as reality is uncertain. Can they all rearrange their lives enough to build something lasting, something real?

Pero has been the hardest to figure out. He is the quietest of the men, the least quick to laugh, the last one to betray what he’s thinking. He fucks like he wants to consume her, devour her, and yet he can be as gentle as Frankie or Jack when he’s done, silently cradling her to his chest as long as she wants as they come down from their highs. He’s much less forthcoming about himself than the other two are, and she’s far less sure about what he wants.

It’s a chilly Sunday morning when she meets him at the workshop. It’s the first time she’s spent any real time with him alone, her stomach full of an odd combination of excitement and nerves.

He takes her in through the gallery of finished works at the front of the building. Bright lights and mirror-backed shelves show off the many pieces, from large imposing sculptures to tiny coupe cocktail glasses that sparkle and glimmer. The middle of the space is dominated by a sculpture of a dragon-like creature larger than she is, its many-fanged mouth open in a roar and its skin a rich rippling green.

Pero doesn’t give her time to linger, however, leading her quickly into the back where the workshop itself is housed. A tension in his shoulders loosens when they enter, and she gets the sense that he isn’t interested in showing off his finished pieces. It’s the process of creating that he likes, that he needs.

If the gallery is bright and shiny and polished, the workshop is a dark, gritty warehouse-like space. Multiple forges line one wall, and it is clear each artist has their own space set up here. Pero’s space is near the back, tucked into a corner. Various tools and implements hang from the walls and rest on tables: blowpipes of every length, tweezers, pliers, clamps, paddles, torches, molds. It looks a little like a medieval torture chamber.

Despite the cavernous feel of the space, it’s warm inside; the forge nearest Pero’s corner is already lit and glowing. She sheds her jacket, leaving her in a soft chambray button-down shirt and black leggings. Pero gives her a gruff explanation of safety basics and insists that she wear a pair of enormous clear safety glasses.

Really, Pero?

Do not argue with me, querida.

The endearment is new, and makes her shiver.

You make all the girls you bring here wear these, hm? She says it playfully, but there’s curiosity behind it.

I have only brought two others here, and Jack and Francisco wore the glasses without complaint.

That pulls her up short, but Pero merely hands her the glasses and busies himself with his tools.

She’d assumed at first that this would be entirely a demonstration on Pero’s part, with her as mere spectator. Normally the idea of a date spent watching a man show off some skill to try and impress her as a one-woman audience would make her roll her eyes. But Pero isn’t boastful about any of this. This isn’t about his ego. He’s letting her in, showing her things that are important to him rather than telling her.

And, she quickly discovers, she’s hardly expected to sit idly by and observe.

Pero loads the tip of a pipe nearly as tall as she is with a glowing lump of molten glass the size of a softball.

Glasswork is rarely a solo endeavor, he tells her. Large pieces often require an entire team of people working in sync. Even small pieces necessitate a partner. It takes not only speed and skill, but also constant communication and trust to successfully bring a piece to life.

As he speaks, he rests his pipe against the edge of a table and rolls it back and forth, helping the glass to keep its roughly oval shape.

Give it a try, querida. He offers the end of the pipe to her.

It’s heavier than she’d anticipated, the heat of the glass sinking through her clothes like the rays of a tiny sun. Her first few rolls of the pipe are too fast, but after a minute she begins to get the hang of how to keep the glass from bending and morphing under its own weight.

Good, Pero says, and suddenly there’s a flare of heat in her stomach. Keep that steady turn all the while, and bring it over here.

There’s a large tray set out on the end of the table, filled with tiny squares of glass in shades of blue and green and milky white. Pero instructs her to roll the glass on the pipe through the squares like a lint roller until there’s a rough coating covering it. It’s an oddly satisfying sensation, the molten glass acting like putty or taffy that grows steadily less pliant as it cools.

Now we take it back into the forge, Pero says, and she gives him room to take the pipe from her, but he merely gives her an encouraging nod of his head toward the forge.

The opening into the heart of the furnace isn’t terribly large, maybe a foot or so in diameter. But the heat roars from it with a power she can feel, rather than hear. It throbs and beats at her like a warning.

She hesitates, but then Pero’s arms are around her, gently but firmly grasping the pipe on either side of her hands.

Like this, he murmurs in her ear as he guides the ball of glass into the belly of the forge. She’s intently aware of every inch of him pressed up behind her, the firm wall of his chest and his slightly softer belly, so close she can feel him breathe.

He likes to fuck her from behind, she’s found.

Every time they’ve had each other, in the handful of times they’ve been intimate thus far, Pero’s put her on her hands and knees, his impossibly big hands holding her down as he fucks her with his impossibly big cock. He likes to wait until Frankie and Jack are done and spent, their cum dribbling out of her or dripping down her skin, before rolling her over and sinking deep into her heat. His grip is firm and possessive, his fingers insistent at her clit. He never fails to make her come with a pace just the right side of too much, the other men soothing her with soft praises of good girl and you take it so well for him, sweetheart.

It’s an automatic response now, the fire that blooms in her belly when she feels him at her back that has nothing to do with the flames licking the molten glass in front of her.

————-

She somehow manages to concentrate on the tasks at hand enough to safely move through the rest of the process.

Fire the glass, roll it, shape it, fire it again, push, pull, fire, roll, shape, fire…

How did you learn to do this? She asks Pero, holding the pipe steady for him while he plucks at the glass with a massive pair of pliers.

My father, is all he says at first. She lets the ensuing silence be, lets him decide if he wants to elaborate. He does.

My father was a glassmaker. When I was a boy in Spain, I would spend every spare minute in his workshop. He taught me everything he knew. I would watch him craft beautiful things out of nothing, shaping and coaxing the glass to his will in an act of creation. He was like a god in my eyes.

She tries to square this information with the little she already knows about Pero’s life.

Why did you leave Spain?

He plucks the pipe from her hands and returns to the forge. His grip is so sure, his movements so fluid. When he returns to her, he passes her the rod and picks up the pliers.

My father died. I was fourteen. My mother moved us to America, and I was full of grief and teenage rage. A combination I was all too happy to let the US Army exploit.

This part she’s heard. Twenty years in the Field Artillery, operating mobile rocket systems and infantry support guns, leading men and their weapons into combat zones across multiple tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. A life lived under fire.

But you found your way back to this, she says.

He looks up at her from where he crouches over the glass, now taking shape as a small vase.

It is the only other thing I know how to do.

She frowns at his modesty, but before she can respond he beckons her around the other side of the table they’re working at. He’s rolled and pulled the glass until no more than a slim column connects the bottom of the base to the pipe. He puts on thick heat-resistant gloves and cradles the vase, instructing her to tap ever-so-gently at the connecting sliver of glass with a small mallet.

With a barely perceptible chink the column breaks, freeing the vase. Pero then fires the bottom of the vase with a handheld blowtorch to smooth it out, and settles the vase into the bowl of a large round kiln for the final cooling process.

The vase stands maybe ten inches high, vaguely v-shaped with a flat bottom. The once bright orange ball of molten glass is now a brilliant turquoise, speckled with the tiny green and blue and white fragments she’d rolled it in. The rim is uneven, pulled and twisted by Pero’s pliers and it makes her think of the edges of a crashing wave.

She stands next to him and looks down at it before he closes the lid to the kiln. It’s small and simple and doubtless less polished than what Pero could have made with a more experienced partner, but it’s theirs.

We made that, she says, turning and giving him a shy smile.

His lips quirk up - not quite a smile, but there’s a softness to his expression that makes her breath catch.

A satisfying process, no? He asks. She nods. The moment stretches between them, the silence not awkward, but instead full of a warm, quiet intimacy.

Come on, pretty girl, Pero murmurs, reaching up to gently remove the safety glasses from her face. Let’s clean up.

Somehow she finds even the sight of him returning every tool back to its proper place, knowing exactly where each piece goes so that it’s ready for the next time he needs it, terribly attractive.

She catches his hand after everything’s put away, pulling his focus.

Thank you, she says, for this. Thank you for letting me in, for revealing this part of you, she doesn’t say, but hopes he knows that’s what she means. I’d…I’d love to do this again sometime.

He brushes his other hand across her cheek.

Anytime you like, querida.

She moves in to kiss him and it’s soft in a way she hasn’t felt from Pero before. He pulls her flush against him and simply holds her there, lazily exploring her mouth. He smells like sweat and heated metal, and she turns her head to lick the salt from the skin of his neck. A sound rumbles from deep in his chest, and the moment goes white-hot in an instant.

Touch me, Pero, she whispers. Put your hands on me.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He slides one hand to the back of her neck to yank her lips back up to his, the other disappearing into her leggings to grab a fistful of her ass. He swallows the pleased little gasp she makes, greedy for more.

He backs her up against the side of his workbench, moving to unbutton her top. Once he has access he pulls down the cups of her bra and turns his full attention to her breasts, kneading the soft flesh with his hands and laving his tongue over her nipples.

Her fingers run through his hair, longer than Jack’s but with curls less unruly than Frankie’s. His hips press against hers and she squirms against the bulge in his jeans, searching for friction.

Need more, baby? He coos up at her, a wicked glint in his eye.

Need you, Pero, she whines.

He straightens and turns her around to bend her over the workbench, curling his fingers in the waistband of her leggings to yank them down and expose her gorgeous ass to him…

Wait.

He freezes.

Could we…I want…

He runs a soothing palm over her hip.

What do you want, pretty girl?

She twists back around to face him. He lets himself be nudged backward until he feels the edge of a nearby chair behind him and sits. She towers over him now, and he looks up at her with one brow raised.

I want to see you, she says shyly, and his blood heats. He slowly spreads his legs in invitation.

She slips out of her shoes and shimmies her leggings and panties off, then similarly loses her shirt and bra. He reaches for her with a growl and hauls her into his lap. She goes willingly, wrapping herself around him as his hands rove over every inch of her skin. This time their kiss is messy and desperate, and when Pero trails a hand down her stomach and finds the soft hair of her mound to pet at her clit, she whimpers into his mouth.

You want it? He rasps. She nods frantically, their noses brushing.

Then take it out, pretty girl.

She undoes his jeans and frees the stiff length of his cock, pumping him slowly, drawing bead after bead of precum from the tip.

But then her grip falters.

This is okay, right?

Pero frowns at her, confused.

What I mean is…I know we talked about it, and you all said it was okay, that we don’t always all have to be together, but…

Ah, so that’s her concern. Something wild and beastly claws at his ribcage in triumph at the realization that he’ll be the first of them to have her all to himself.

It is more than okay, he reassures her, smoothing a thumb over her kiss-swollen lips. We told you we can each take our pleasure from the others whenever we wish, and none of us is a man who says things he does not mean. Least of all to those we care for.

He can feel her body relax at that, and he tilts her chin and draws her in for another kiss. Her hand starts to move up and down his cock again, the tip of him grazing the pillowy skin of her inner thigh with each pass, and a hiss leaves his mouth at the sensation.

This will not go the way you intend if you keep that up, he warns her. A newfound deviousness unfurls itself in her grin.

Maybe this is what I intend, she says. Maybe I want you just like this, hard and aching in my hands until I make you come all over yourself -

He cuts her off by crashing his lips to hers, stilling her movements on his cock and hooking one hand under her ass to push her up until his length prods against her entrance.

Perhaps, he murmurs, perhaps one day if you’re a very, very good girl, I’ll let you have such a way with me. But for now - he notches himself just inside the slick rim of her pussy - put me inside you.

She obeys, working herself down on him inch by inch. When he’s fully seated inside her she sighs as if in relief, a dazed look in her eyes. There’s a distant thought in the back of her head that despite the workshop being closed today, one of the artists could still walk in unexpectedly at any moment, but she can’t bring herself to care.

They make twin sounds of pleasure at the first swirl of her hips. As her body adjusts to his size she finds her rhythm, bracing her hands on his shoulders as she rides him.

And god, what a sight.

She knows what sex with Pero feels like. She knows what it sounds like, smells like, tastes like. But none of those things has prepared her for what it looks like. What he looks like, as they move together, face-to-face for the first time.

The clench of his jaw, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. The tendons that pop and strain in his neck. The dewy sheen of sweat across his brow. And his eyes…

She could fall forever into the endless black abyss of his eyes, she could lose herself entirely in their depths and never look away and would be thankful for it. How could she not be, when he looks at her with such unrestrained want that she feels it like a physical thing…

She brushes a thumb over the scar that bisects his left eye, as if she could soothe the long-ago wound with present tenderness. She knows it’s far from the only scar he carries, and would that she could heal them all through sheer force of will.

Pero swirls his thumb around her clit, bracing his feet as he begins to meet her hips with thrusts of his own. Her movements stutter as her control over her body wavers. She becomes nothing more than molten desire in his hands, to be molded and shaped and consumed by flame as he sees fit. The pressure he puts on her clit is unrelenting, and this is familiar, the way he doesn’t coax an orgasm from her, but demands it. It builds and builds in between her legs and when she would close her eyes and tip her head back to welcome it he grabs her chin to stop her.

Look at me, he pants. Look at me when I make you come, querida. Look…

It starts as a command, but ends as a plea.

The tension bursts inside her, and her cry of his name and the way her climax tightens her pussy around him like a vice pulls him headlong over the edge with her. He cums with a roar, pulling her down on his cock as he empties himself as deep as he can inside her.

It’s a long minute before they both fully come back to themselves, breathing hard as their bodies milk every last drop of pleasure from each other. She collapses into his chest, and he’s content to hold her there for as long as she wishes.

We can do that again anytime you like too, he says quietly in her ear, and she smiles into his neck.

——————

There’s no big reveal, no fanfare or presentation when it happens. She simply comes home one day (and funny, how she’s started to think of it as home, how her apartment has become merely a place where most of her things are, including the vase she’d made with Pero, but not where she lives) and there it sits on the shelf, catching her eye immediately.

The falcon, the horse, and the bull, now clustered around a fourth statue.

A lioness.

She moves towards it as if pulled by gravity. The beauty of it steals her breath. The great cat is posed sitting, tall and elegant, her body at a three-quarters position but her head turned to look straight out at the viewer. Her tail is wrapped neatly around her, and her tiny delicate ears are alert.

What do you think? says a soft voice behind her. It carries an uncharacteristic hint of uncertainty.

She doesn’t turn, doesn’t need to look to know the man behind her is the one who made this.

She’s gorgeous, she murmurs.

Pero hums low in his throat, and comes to stand over her shoulder.

You can ask, he says. I want to tell you.

Why a lioness? she whispers.

Pero is silent for a moment.

She is strong, and graceful. Clever, and brave. Loyal. Beautiful.

A tingling warmth floods her chest. It feels like too much, the implied praise too high.

They’re remarkable creatures, she replies.

They ain’t the only ones, darlin’, Jack drawls from the doorway. He’s flanked by Frankie, who has one arm wrapped casually around Jack’s waist.

I don’t know what to say. Tears prick her eyes as she turns to face them.

You don’t have to say anything, Frankie tells her.

Just be ours. Pero says it so softly she almost doesn’t hear him. As we are yours.

She pulls Pero in for a kiss, her answer whispered like a vow against his lips:

I already am.

———

Fun fact I learned about glassblowing equipment during my research for this fic that I wasn’t able to work into the story but absolutely need to share with you anyway:

Did y’all know that the furnaces like the one Pero uses here to heat the glass are called GLORY HOLES?!?!?!? Swear to god. Be careful googling that if you don’t believe me. 😂

[thisismeracing]

Pretty Liar | LN4 (Patreon exclusive)

― Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader ― Word count: 5.6k ― Warnings: mentions of food and alcohol; +18! graphic description of sex (p in v, oral - both, fem and male receiving). ― Summary: Ever since Lando was a kid he knew his future would bring fame somehow, always involved with racing and having just what it needed to become a Formula 1 driver, he was happy with everything it entailed, up until said future became his present and he realized there was also a rough side to the fame. That’s why, when he found you – someone who had no idea who he was, he kept his career from you. He would tell you, and he would eventually clarify the situation, he had it all planned, however, all it took was one week. One week for you to discover that what you thought started as a beautiful story, was actually a perfectly told lie. Lando was pretty, but he was also a liar. Now he had to find a way to explain everything, and you had to find it in you to forgive him.

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Some scientists believe that it takes around ten minutes for an average person to make an everyday decision. Yet, the moment Yn’s eyes met Lando’s, and he smiled at her, she knew they would go home together that night, and this exchange took less than a second. 

His face seemed familiar, but she couldn’t remember where. She thought maybe it was from an old Instagram post their friends in common had made. Maybe they saw each other in a pub before. The city wasn’t that big, their crowds were similar, and they were both young.

Lando seemed surprised with the news, “You don’t…know me?” 

“Should I?” Yn asks, quirking her eyebrows with a glimmer of humor in her stare. 

He shook his head before Oliver, their common friend, could say something, “Nah, it’s just…I’m a DJ, I thought maybe you had seen something about me around a party you know?!” 

Yn bit her lower lip, chuckling. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you must be a great DJ, but I’ve never heard of a Lando Norris before.” 

“Now I’m hurt,” the Brit turned to their friend, and Oliver’s laugh boomed around. 

That was how their first interaction went, with both aware of the tension line being pulled. Lando had never seen someone match his energy like she did, and Yn had never felt that giddy with a guy before. When someone grabbed Oliver away, the speakers gave space to a remixed tune of  Zedd and Yn asked what Lando was playing that night, or if he was playing at all. 

He smiled at her showing the small gap between his teeth which she decided was one of her favorite features of his, after his eyes, “It depends. What do you want me to play?”

“Oooh, smooth, I like it!” she giggled, taking a sip of her drink, and using the seconds to breathe in some air. “Would you mind playing Rihanna?” 

“Most recent ones or oldies?” 

“Around 2010s would be perfect.”

“I know exactly the song,” he announced like a promise, and Yn nodded, grabbing his hand, lacing their fingers, and starting to head in the direction of the bar. It would be an hour or so until the pub’s DJ finished his thing. 

“Do you wanna drink something?” Yn stopped to say in his ears now that the song seemed much louder and so did the crowd. Lando’s free hand grabbed her waist, and he shouted back that he had just grabbed his refill, but he was fine going with her. 

Truth was, Lando didn’t even like the bar area that much, drunk people would tend to gather there sometimes, spill their alcohol, scream, and try creating scenes, but something about Yn’s eyes would make him follow her to hell, and they had just met. That felt a tad scary, but he wouldn’t think too much about it, trying to focus his mind on Danny’s words about enjoying the butterflies, enjoying the naivety, and enjoying the nerves that came with it. 

**********************

“I still gotta learn how to bake properly.”

“We could try together. I know a thing or two about sugary recipes,” she suggested. “Meanwhile, you cook the main dish and I make the dessert—” she stopped mid-sentence, putting the palm of her hand on her forehead. “We forgot about dessert, Lan!” 

But the pilot can only grin, watching in awe as her lips pout slightly.

“I didn’t.”

“What do you mean?” her tone started with a confused hint, but when their eyes met and Yn caught the way his gaze drifted  across her body like a caress bringing a shiver along. Her legs instinctively crossed in search of the slight tinge of pressure. 

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean,” his grin was wicked, and the way his head pointed to the space in front of him at the table almost made Yn whimper. Lando pushed the plate and glass to the side, watching as Yn got up and walked to him. The noises of the city came through the open windows, just like the cold wind, creating the perfect harmony with the way her bare steps hit the ground, the slight sound coming from it. 

The legs of Lando’s chair scraped on the ground when he pushed it just a tiny bit to make room for Yn. She sat on his lap, legs on either side of him, caging him in place, and giving him the feeling of her bare cunt against his dress pants. 

“Aren’t you wearing anything under the dress?” he asked, mocking shock on his expression. 

Yn merely shook her head, “It would just ruin it anyway.”

And just like that cooking conversations and random subjects were long forgotten, their lips smashed together in a heated kiss, and Yn moaned into his mouth when Lando gripped her waist and guided her movements on top of him, his cock hardening with each motion. 

*****************

“Come in my mouth,” she rasped, it sounded like a plea, and Lando couldn’t help but give it to her. At that moment he would give her anything and everything she asked for. The way her eyes blinked at him from between his legs, mascara a bit smudged on her cheeks, lips swollen from sucking, she looked like an angel. 

And he couldn’t deny an angel its request.

So when her mouth enveloped him again, cheeks hollowing and tongue twirling Lando gripped the table, hips buckling slightly and body finally succumbing to pleasure. He watched as his cum leaked from her mouth, his dick still spurting the white liquid and making it land on her chin and collarbone. 

Yn grinned up at him, licking her lips. 

He scooped cum from her chin using his finger and she eagerly opened her mouth, sucking his thumb and smiling up at him again. At that moment, he wanted them to be intimate enough, so he could grab a camera and save that image. Frame it. Store it under locks. Have it with him forever. Something about the way she looked and what they had just done stirred his insides again.

“Can I have mine now?” he scooped more cum this time from her collarbone and Yn nodded, parting her lips to him again. 

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, honeybees! I hope you guys liked this piece. I've been meaning to write a long piece for Lan for a while now, and it felt good to put this together, I'm looking forward to writing more for him, let me know if you wanna see it! <3 I wanted to add a huge shout-out to Delia (@struggling-with-delia) for proofreading and beta-reading this (Ily, Dee!).

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