#mixed race reader

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Kissed by Moonlight (Alucard x Witch! Reader) 7

A/N: I feel like an ass for posting this one, surely I am cockblocking, but this slow-burning is here for a reason! Enjoy regardless! Mentions of anatomy and some language, Y/N gets drunk and nearly blurts all.

Summary: To be loved is to be changed.

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Chapter 7

In the day, Adrian was as glorious as the sun. At night, as beautiful and haunting as the moon and its glow.

In the month you had been in the castle, you had turned the once secluded castle into a living, existing place, for you and Adrian to simply ignore the rest of the world in. It had grown not to resemble a tattered and destroyed ruin, but instead, a place Adrian could call home once again.

Adrian himself had flourished in his skin once more: where you found him to take up hobbies when you were not with him. Before was once a man, lonely beyond an age before the age of twenty, losing his parents and closest allies, now, a man you could look upon with admiration and pride. He had grown out from his enclosed shell, opening his heart to a stranger, trusting you with his life unlike those who betrayed him.

It hurt more to know that this was your final day.

You feared for Adrian’s wellbeing, whether he would grow reclused after you left him, or would he rather thrive with your farewell?

You had grown recluse yourself from the Dhampir, finding closure in the fact that you would never look upon the face of Adrian ever again. Where could you go apart from as far out from Wallachia? Nowhere was safe for a girl like me. You told yourself when you wished you could explain to Adrian—though the words would always freeze on your tongue any time you tried bringing it up.

It seemed that Adrian had almost forgotten about the promise too, and you couldn’t help but feel guilt when he spoke of promises he wanted to do for you.

“I’ll show you one day the town nearby,” he said one night, curled up by the fire as he stared into its flames. “I know you’d like it. We could buy anything you’d like: spices, dresses, jewellery.”

He spoke of a future not just with him alone, but with you co-existing beside him, and it thrilled and destroyed you to know that this promise would crumple like sand.

The day came for you to leave, silently waking with dried tears still stinging your red eyes. You had spent all that night crying before you fell to sleep, dreaming of being with Adrian, laughter shared and memories to be made. You had even kissed him, your heart fluttering as he muttered words softly in your words that gave away he did not want you to go.

'Always and forever.' His words were soft and dying in the air when you faced the morning, and your lips could still feel his against yours, a dying dream never to be lived.

You tip-toed around to not wake Adrian, gathering anything you could and folding neatly the dresses you had been given to him. They were too lovely to be ruined and deserved to be in a place that could keep its beauty.

The only things you carried on you were the same dress you came to the castle in, rags that had been sitting in the corner of the room, waiting for the day you would have to wear them. The air grew heavy with a feeling of forlorn as you walked to find the kitchen, setting yourself by the counter and waiting for the person you dreaded to upset.

It was not long until you heard familiar footsteps drawing closer, familiar honey-blond locks coming into view as the man appeared. It snapped your heart in two to see the softness in his golden eyes as if you were better than the sun itself and you were his star. That all fell apart when his smile dropped, the uncertainty washing over his face when he saw the glumness on your face.

“Has something happened?” He did not waste two seconds stepping closer towards you, giving a small gap between the two but enough that you could be up close to him. In the four weeks, it had taken some time for Adrian to grow used to touch once again, always coiling away from your closeness, before he had taken the time to build trust and reciprocate first. "Y/N?"

He was quick to reach out to you first, extending for your arm as he pulled it towards him. He was warm to the touch, and you dared not want to look upon his concerned gaze without knowing you would blubber into a mess once again.

“You remember the promise, correct?” You lamented, watching for a moment as he took in your words carefully. It was as if everything poured through just from the question, and you could just about read every emotion visible in his eyes; melancholy, regret, grief.

“Where will you go?” His voice was quiet. Don’t go, it read in his eyes.

It didn’t dawn on you, no matter how many times you came to think of it. “Some place where it is warmer, perhaps east. But that means…” your voice cracked momentarily, “Wallachia will not be a home for me.”

“But how do you know?” His calmness cracked, and beneath you could see the grief-stricken man appear, though you did not think he would be holding concern for you of all people.

You didn’t want to answer his question, despite the unknowing questions that boiled, the silence was deafening, and it hammered in your chest like the chiming of a hammer.

“I will have to leave whilst there is still light,” you squeezed Adrian’s hand before it slipped from his, “Thank you for allowing me to use your library, and… to call you a dear friend.”

You didn’t know if that pained you more to call him a friend when your feelings had bloomed for him during your time there. A friend was the only thing you could call him: why would he want anything else with you? He’s immortal, he will have lovers come and go, but none will ever be you.

“Don’t,” he called to you when he stepped out of his reach, not expecting him to call you. Your name was a whisper on his tongue, hanging in the air as if he wished to say something more to you, “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I would be overstaying here, Adrian.” You could feel tears slip from your face, but you braved not to look at him, even when you knew he was staring at you. “You said a month-”

“Please,” there it was. Pain in his voice in the way he pleaded, desperate and gentle that you didn’t think you’d see this side of him, “I don’t think… living within these walls would ever feel the same with you gone.”

He stepped out to you again.

Closer.

His hand gingerly found your chin, raising your head to meet his gaze, delicately wiping the tear collecting at the corner of your right eye. You were both silent, only staring at one another, and never did you think anyone would stare at you the way he did with you.

“You wish for me to stay?” Forever?

Your mother had told you what that feeling would be like, though she had been young and never knew the experience herself. Did Alucard’s parents experience the same when they first met?

That feeling grew within your chest, butterflies you couldn’t stop from feeling: the great emotion that one day would bless you in having. Why was it that the moment you had to leave was when it came?

‘People come and go,’ your mother told you one day when you asked about it, naïve and full of hope. ‘It hurts when it grows for those you care for.’

Yes, you understand now why it came at this moment and all the times before.

It hurt.

Love hurt when it was about to leave for the first and final time.

It was his smile, so gentle and warm, so inviting and bright – full like the sun and the beginning of spring – that you could not decline his offer.

“I would very much like that.”

-

Telling yourself you had gotten used to the castle was an understatement.

The rooms you were more familiar with were the ones you kept to, never straying that much to explore. You knew that there were many rooms even Adrian never went into, telling you that they held too many memories, either good or bad.

You were understanding, knowing how much the castle – his childhood home – could hold a lot of disturbance to what he went through. He told you one day that his childhood bedroom was off limits: it was after all, where he had killed his father. He mentioned it was a place too “dampened with gloom” that you knew something else had happened for him to keep that part of the castle off-limits.

It had only gotten the best of you when you told Adrian you were going to do some cleaning, leaving him as he cooked in the kitchen.

You sprinted with much glee and inquisitiveness: the endless hallways could lead you anywhere!

Roaming the halls, you remembered to stay away from the rooms you were not allowed to go to, including his old and current bedroom. It was quite easy to get lost, taking to the upper floors, where the light grew dimmer, more eerie.

The rooms as you found them didn’t hold much for you to be intrigued until you passed what was another room in another endless hallway, you spotted that this room had its door ajar.

This was certainly a room you had not been told of by Adrian.

Bravely, the room seemed to be more of an intrigue to you than any other room. Slowly peeling the door back, you stepped through.

The room is dimly lit, with a sense of sweet orange that lingers in the air. It’s his scent, sweet, alluring, inviting; just like what surrounds you. There are books of all assortments: astronomy, philosophy, ecology, history – to name a few. Knowledge spanning from decades to thousands of years back, of all cultures and dynasties long gone and remaining. Maps hung around the room, some of the entirety of Europe, the world and one finally above his desk of Wallachia.

It took longer to find literature, where you find poetry, prose, children’s stories and old fables. You’re shocked when you stumble across some romance novels, not expecting that to come from Adrian.

His desk is a display of many things: papers, books, and journals. You dare not look in his journals knowing his work is private, but something catches your gaze. Since when was Adrian into drawing?

You find one first that makes you pick it up, a sketch of his mother, only a fine-line sketch that is only shaded and not with much detail, but you recognise her from the portraits that decorate the castle.

Will you be needing a muse anytime soon? You think to yourself, jokingly. You knew it was rude to snoop, and knowing you had come across Adrian’s study, you knew you had the best chance to look around when he wasn’t there.

But when you find his sketchbook, all nosiness takes over.

The leather-bound book is beautifully decorated, with its pages filled to the brim from use. The beginning of the pages were those you recognised simply by objects that Adrian used for inspiration: a stag beetle shell, many plotted plants and flowers some you recognised from your mother’s herbs. You read the dates that dated back to almost a decade ago, impressed by his skill at such a young age.

The more you draw the pages further into the book, the older the dates get, and his practice grows. His inspirations change from objects to anatomy. You’re impressed by the way Adrian draws the human body so well. Some sketches of hands in different positions and poses, full body sketches of a mixture of men and women, some clothed and others nude.

You could feel your cheeks darken, and though it was surprising to see the natural state of the human body, art was still captivating in showing it, Adrian drew with a way of conveying vulnerability. His mother was a doctor after all.

Other pages were of human faces: more drawings of his mother and father. Another was of a different man and woman: the woman had short hair whilst the man had a scar over his right eye and a shadow of a wispy beard on his face. You now had a reference to Adrian’s friends and allies: Sypha and Trevor.

A Belmont, scholar and sleeping soldier, Adrian told you, all out for different clauses and paths but joined to meet on one path; to kill Dracula.

You had forgotten to make sure you were still alone and not spotted looking through his things when you reached the last few of the pages, recently used. Wait a minute. You had to do a double take, imagining you were seeing double. This isn’t… who I think it is.

Those eyes, were similar to you, not that you could remember where you had seen them last. It dawned on you quickly why they were a distant memory: they looked like your mother's eyes—but that was impossible if Adrian had never met or seen an image of her.

But, as if looking back through a mirror, a glimpse through time, those eyes weren’t just hers, but yours as well.

Oh. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you dared not drop the book to draw attention to where you were. You didn’t close it, despite feeling that this was intruding—it was too late for that now.

He had gotten your likeness in a way you didn’t think he could: as if you had been captured in a moment, ready to come back to life on the page. Another sketch of you, reclined with your nose in a book and laying in a way that could’ve been uncomfortable to anyone else. Another of you tying your hair back, the ribbon dangling in your mouth, eyes in heavy concentration. The final one took you by surprise: a moment where you were snuggled into the armchair, a blanket wrapped protectively around you to keep you warm.

Have I been so blinded this entire time? It seemed like this wasn’t right: did Alucard… fancy you? You scoffed, absolutely not, there was no way—though you the more you spiralled, the more it had you questioning everything.

You had been so preoccupied with what you had discovered, that you failed to suspect the presence behind you, someone standing just on the edge of the doorframe.

An awkward cough brought you back to your senses.

“Forgive me!” You stumbled, throwing the papers behind you to hide them behind your back, in hopes you were quick on your feet. You were clumsy, ineptly whipping back to look at the blond Dhampir standing just a few metres in the doorframe. “I did not hear you come in.”

Adrian was dressed simply in his shirt, trousers and boots as he did if the weather was not too cold. It was only a small subtle detail that his dark trousers were coated and dusted with a light cast of flour, as if he had nothing else to wipe but on them. His hair was also tied up, revealing his slender neck, wisps of blond tresses falling to frame his handsome angular features.

How long had he been waiting there for? You panicked, knowing that he could’ve used his speed to reach you, using his inhuman scent of smell or to pick up your heart rate to find you.

“Yes, well, you did seem rather… occupied.” Adrian teased, though his face was incomprehensible, his movements leisurely as he ambled into the room, inspecting if anything looked out of place.

Was he just as embarrassed as how you were feeling? Regardless if he was or not, he was very good at hiding it from you.

He stopped just to the side of his desk, eyes quickly scanning as he spotted the disarray of papers, his sketchbook ‘neatly’ placed back where it looked to have been before. He did not say anything about it, instead, resuming conversation as if nothing was out of place.

“I was asking if you were free to help me downstairs. I needed assistance in deciding which spices to add to the cakes.” He continued, watching the way you shuffled to block what you were putting back on the desk.

You were not subtle in the slightest but Adrian did not make any remark for you to be snooping, rather, he watched on in visible amusement. The refined look when he raised an eyebrow, the small smirk that made you even more flustered when you were caught.

“Okay, ready.” You gestured for him to walk in front, hanging back as you took a final glance back, wondering when Adrian started drawing you.

-

 It’s his idea when he decides the two of you should share a bottle of wine.

Though you think it’s not good to have the entire bottle, Adrian agrees upon a glass or two, sharing thoughts as the night grows dark with the creatures of the forest outside, and your worries melt for a moment on your tongue.

The wine is sweet, not though you like it, and it's hard to consume something that feels so foreign. Adrian drinks it as if it's water, and you struggle to keep up. You’re a lightweight after all, and though you’re slower, you can feel the haziness that crawls in your vision, and you swear you’re almost seeing double.

Your laughter is warmer, chatter easier, and you notice he’s closer beside you by the table when he first brings the bottle and glasses.

“This is nice,” his voice does not slur as he speaks, and you’re shocked just by how content he is in drinking glass after glass if he could. If perhaps you didn’t say anything, perhaps he would, “It’s been some time since I stopped drinking.”

“When did you stop?” You can feel a headache begin to dull your senses, and you’re feeling bolder.

Adrian seems hesitant when he looks back at you before he answers. “I stopped after a couple of days after your arrival.” He’s nervously swirling the glass in small circles on the table, a distraction. “I’m sure the smell of piss and blood wasn’t helping.”

You chortle, “No, it didn’t, but I don’t suppose I was any different. A girl smelling of chickens.”

“I did wonder why.” He says in a dry tone, but his eyes are sincere, and you find yourself staring periodically down at his lips, the glint of his sharp teeth some distraction from the wine.

“It seems funny when I say it now, but I used to have two, and they had names.”

Adrian seems surprised by this, that of all things to have named were chickens, but he coaxes you with a raised brow, intrigued, to say the least. “Tell me they had normal names.”

“Henrietta and Duchess.”

“Oh, my God,” Adrian laughs quietly, “Next you’ll say you had a pig called Duke and a horse called Lieutenant.”

“Well, the pig was called Truffle.”

“Seems almost cruel,” Adrian laughs at the idea, “I don’t think I was any different. I did have a stuffed wolf called Fluffy.”

“Hey, that’s cute though.”

You laugh at the idea, but you’re carrying a sad smile as you continue to sip slowly at your drink. “I loved those chickens. It was weird, but I treated them like humans rather than animals—livestock. They were much nicer than-” You stop yourself mid-sentence, unsure if you’re ready to continue.

Your stomach coils as if ready to lurch, for you to leap from your chair and leave to your room, but Adrian is calm and patient, running a soothing hand over yours to console you.

“Take your time,” he says with quiet empathy, and it’s enough to pull you back to reality. “I’m here.”

“After my mama’s death, I fled to the nearby town—I was on the streets for some time, hiding behind buildings and sometimes getting shelter from a sweet old lady, before I was old enough to sell myself as a servant to any passing man who needed my service.”

You felt sick to your stomach, and the wine was not helping. “I stayed in his service for almost a decade, serving his son and wife who was no older than me.” You confessed. “It all boiled down one day when I was fed up with the fucking treatment. I was beaten if I did something incorrect, slapped if I spoke when not spoken to, and something… snapped in me. I… hurt him when he hurt me.” You pushed the wine away from you, eyes welling with tears. “I wish I did more.”

“You survived,” Adrian said with a sad grimace, “You’re much braver than most I know.”

“I didn’t feel brave then,” you admitted. “I felt like a stupid little girl, not capable of anything.”

“Hey,” Adrian seems clumsy in giving close comfort, but he tried nonetheless, leaning closer to finally embrace you. He smelt of oranges and lavender, and you nearly broke down into his shoulder, “you’re the strongest person I know. The bravest witch.”

He seemed tongue-tied with his next words, eyes moving across your face as if he wished to say something that you yearned to hear. “I’m proud of you.” He finally said, but in your mind, it didn’t seem like it was what he wanted to say as if there was something he was holding back.

Was I overthinking? You thought as you pulled away from his embrace, so tempted to lean across the table and kiss him there and then, but you pulled enough restraint to not horrify the man. “Thank you, Adrian. I’m thankful I have you.” You finally said.

“I’m thankful too.” He confesses, quickly realising what he’s just said and the blush on his face is obvious as he tries to change the subject. “I will leave you to catch some sleep. I thought it would be a good idea to head into town tomorrow morning. Gather some more supplies. What do you say?”

You smile sadly, “That’s a good idea.” You’re on your feet fast enough as you say goodnight to one another before you’re speeding down the hallway to your room, wiping the tears that have not dried from your face.

When you reach your room, you slink against the inside of the door. Your head is hammering, vision is hazy. Damn for drinking so much. You groan, only listening to the crackling of the fire lit in your room, the soft luring sound of crisp pages of a book being shut as a lovely interference.

“Ah, there you are.” the voice that pulled you from your thoughts was the one thing you needed to hear, sweet as honey as the figure emerged to stand close by from where you stood. His soft locks are pulled back from his face, and he’s practically glowing in the soft ambers of your room, the fire gently burning to keep the warmth.

Your lips are pulled into a tired smile, which the Dhampir notices quickly enough to soothe you for a night of sleep. “You’re exhausted, my little witch.” He’s yanking you by your hand, directing you to your bed. “You need sleep before it comes for you first.”

“Was it so obvious?” You laugh dryly, and the lack of sleep is fast indeed; your eyes are heavy, limbs sluggish as your mind slows from the alcohol. “I can get myself to bed by myself, you know?”

“I don’t doubt you,” he scolds lightly, the way he moves you is more persistent. “Dreams help everything go away, isn’t that what your mother said?”

“Yes.” You drawl quietly, silent in watching Adrian move around you, sitting you delicately on the edge of the side of the bed. He is gentle in getting you settled for the night, removing your outer layers of clothing until you’re left in your chemise. There is nothing overtly sexual in the way he undresses you, more so there’s such a tenderness to his touches that it almost leaves you weeping.

When you’re ready, he follows, undressing until he stands in his nightgown. You watch as he goes to as he crawls onto the other side to lay there. Shutting his eyes, his light blond hair cascades around the pillow like a halo, his body silent and still as stone.

You’re staring for some time before he speaks up, aware even without having to open your eyes. “Are you going to watch me sleep or are you going to join me?” He cracks one eye open, full of mirth as he catches the exact moment your face brightens.

“Right.” You scootch over closer, lying stiffly beside him on your back, not daring to get any cosier before he stretches like a cat, catching you by surprise as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in close.

“You’re shaking like a leaf, little witch.” He jokes, humming as he rests his head into the crook of your neck. This is all so real, and you dare fear if you fall asleep, it’ll all be gone, a fading memory to die in the back of your mind. “Am I that cold?”

“No,” you finally relax in his hold, having turned to face him, a feeling you wish not to ever forget. “It feels nice.”

“I’m sure one thing could make you feel better,” his eyes are open, watching you almost hawkishly, scooting himself closer. “Though, I’d have to know what you think.”

“What is it?”

He doesn’t answer you directly, but his eyes tell you what you’ve been waiting for. It’s the way his gold eyes glance from your eyes down to your lips, way too slowly before coming back up to meet your flustered state.

Neither of you make the first move, your heart is hammering too fast that you can barely keep up with your racing thoughts. You know he can hear how fast it's pumping, thunderous and dreadful against your ribs. It feels like it could explode any second.

Should I wait for him to lean in? Or would it be better for me to meet him halfway? To see how he reacts.

With your mind racing, your body moves on its own, ignoring your many questions and moving with little patience. A hand finds his cheek, stroking his cheekbone in contemplation, soft to the touch that you gasp from just the exhilaration alone.

You’re not waiting for him when you’re leaning close to him, closer and closer until his face is inches from yours. Your noses bump as you catch the final moment where his eyes flutter shut as you’re copying, stretching over until your lips meet his.

You didn’t know how long you had been counting for this moment to happen. Drinking him in, he is the sun, and you are a secluded plant, waiting for his rays to keep you from shrivelling. His lips are soft, neither warm nor cool as your contact is chaste and quick, and all that is gone when you’re not chasing for more-

“No,” you rasp as you pull yourself from him, leaping up to sit on the edge of the bed. “This is wrong.”

“Oh?” He doesn’t seem dissatisfied or enraged, rather it seems more like a question. He is calm when he asks, voice a soft rumble. “Is it wrong because you wish to continue? Or because you wish to experience this with him?”

You slump in your spot, guilt overflowing your body like a wave, ready to drown. “It’s wrong because… I’m using him.” You hug yourself, ready to weep aloud from it all. “I’m using him for this twisted fantasy, just to feel happy.”

This fake version of Adrian is collected, reaching your side of the bed as he places a consoling hand on your shoulder. “Happy… that you want to imagine a future with him?”

“Yes. Is that so wrong to have?” You sigh exasperated. “I want him to be happy, but I fear… I will never give him that happiness.”

“He’s been through so much already.” You continue. “I think of him all the time: like how the sun can’t live without the moon.”

You’re completely consumed by Adrian: mind, body and soul and it aches that this crush will continue to remain as one. His acts of kindness have completely floored you, confusing you to the point that you were left over questioning every small act he did for you.

The night is long and you’re left distraught, conjuring a version of him that you hope can give you comfort. “What do I do?”

“Tell  him the truth.”

Your head snaps almost drastically to glare at the fake version, who simply looks just as perplexed as you. “I’m just a manifested form you created of him in your head whilst inebriated. I’m the wrong person you should be talking to.”

Sighing defeatedly, you look to him for security. “I’m… confused.”

“How so?”

“Well, I know he sees me as a friend, but he’s just so thoughtful. He carries me back to bed, and we spend all day together. I mean, he drew sketches of me for fuck’s sake—that’s saying something, isn’t it?”

“He seems lonely too.” ‘Adrian’ answers, but it’s a reasonable answer that could be what you’re looking for, regardless of how you’re feeling.

“I know, I know. He’s awkward, but it can’t just be out of friendship.”

“Tell him in the morning,” he says, “you can’t see for yourself if he’s quick to reciprocate your feelings for him. Perhaps then you’ll be able to cuddle something that’s flesh and bone.”

You chortle at his words, knowing how uncanny and realistic he is sitting beside you. “Can we just- can we just cuddle for the rest of the night? Just so I don’t feel so lonely.”

Alucard gives you a sorrowful smile, pulling you into a side embrace. “You realise I won’t be there by morning?”

It’s a sad realisation, but you come to accept it. “I know. I just… want to imagine feeling something for once.”

“Of course, my little witch,” he kisses your forehead lovingly, leading you both back down to lie on the bed. The bed doesn’t feel as big when you share it with another, now in the fond embrace of the Dhampir you conjured in your mind.

“Sleep well, Y/N.” He tells you all the right things you want to hear, the lull of sleep pulls you in deeper and deeper, his voice growing quieter. “I’m still here with you, no matter what.”

“I love you,” you slur as darkness consumes you, the heaviness of your body pulling you into a sleep you need. You don’t feel upset when you don’t hear a response, just the arms of his embrace.

By the time early morning comes, the other side of the bed is cold, and the ghost of Adrian’s arms remains.

It’s not just knowing that the person on the other side of the hallway would never know how you felt, but the sense that you could never go back to seeing him just as a dear friend.

-

A/N:

This was a long one to write, but I hope you enjoyed it!

[curlymeme]

hazel levesue

[misznsworld]

THEY REACHED 6M SUBS !!

[highpri3stess]

Me: *Looks at the Kawata twins*

Me: *Looks at their hair carefully*

Smiley: What? What are you looking at?

Me and my black ass not minding my business: Are any of your parents or maybe grand parents, yknow ... um ... of a different ances-

Y/n: I TOLD YOU NOT TO ASK THAT, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU-

[lala1267]

Chocolate and Vanilla (some of part 4)

Summary:it has been a month since your incident with Claudia, Elvis was all eyes for you but Claudia was still lurking.

Warning: swearing, mentions of arousal,

VERY SHORT PART BECAUSE I DONT HAVE TIME TO DO A FULL PART 4 SORRY

It had been a month since my incident with Claudia and Carmella. Since then I had been staying with Elvis and hanging out with Lana, I was never alone, Elvis and Lana wouldn't allow me to have freedom since this is the second time that I had been attacked. Although I loved Elvis's and Lana's company I missed going on late night walks on my own,playing outside on my own, I had spent my whole childhood on my own. Me and Elvis grew very close, I was always at his house, I basically lived there.

I woke up one sunny morning, breeze blowing through the curtains and the birds singing. I didn't even wake up properly before I ran downstairs in my short nightgown and white thrilled socks. I ran straight out of the back door to the horses, I mounted Elvis's horse and rode to the end of the field. I loved horse riding, it was my only way of escaping Graceland even though I was still technically at Graceland. I saw Elvis walk over to the stables, he was wearing black trousers and a navy blue long sleeved top. I dismounted my horse just to run and jump into his arms. Elvis loved how I wasn't ladylike, he loved that I could walk around with no makeup on and my hair a mess, I could walk around barefoot outside, I could run far and fast. Elvis loved me and I loved him but he was like a brother to me or even a dad. Elvis squeezed my body lightly before pulling away to look at my face covered in freckles and my emerald green eyes. "Breakfast is ready honey, I might need horse riding lessons of you soon If you get any better" he said with a soft giggle. I took Elvis's hand as he escorted me inside to the diner table. Since the Claudia incident, she had been kicked out of the house by Elvis. I hadn't seen her since. I sat down in my pink silk dress. Elvis had made me cereal while he had eggs and toast. I quickly finished my cereal before saying, "Elvis, can I go out with Lana today?" Elvis's eyebrows furrowed, he thought for a second before replying, "ok honey, just make sure Lana returns you home safely" I smiled before sprinting up the stairs, Elvis followed behind me, as I ran up the stairs my dress bounced up and down, this gave Elvis the full view of my panties. I turned around to him as I reached the top of the stairs, he was adjusting his pants as If something had made him aroused.

I picked out some flared jeans and a tight crop top that I didn't realise pushed my boobs up.

Me and Lana were at the mall when we both saw a very familiar face at the exact same time. The blonde walked with a tall man with jet black hair. Claudia. And....who?. Me and Lana put our hats and sunglasses on and slowly sneaked closer to them. Both of our jaws dropped when we saw the man that Claudia was draping all over was "Elvis!" Lana shouted, I put my hand over her mouth to stop Claudia and Elvis from hearing her. "Lana, shush, we can't let them know we are spying on them!" I whisper yelled.

"But that is your man with his ex!"

"Whoa,whoa,whoa, first of all he isn't my man, he is just someone who cares for me. And second of all they are probably still dating, he never said that they broke up"

"So your telling me your not even a little bit jealous that the man who you love is with a girl that almost killed you!?" I let out a sigh before responding, "Well I guess but I'm not dating him so it's not my problem"

"Well if it ain't your problem then it sure is mine!" Lana snapped as she got up. I quickly took her hand and pulled her back down again. "Lana, look at me, I don't want anything to do with that girl so can you please just leave them alone"

"Ugh fine, just letting ya know If he is kissing and fucking that girl in the next ten minutes don't come running to me" Lana said as she grabbed my hand to walked us to the cafe. We were sitting at a table that was next to the window. The view was lovely. Until we saw Claudia in the view. Of course, she walked in the restaurant holding his hand. I grinded my teeth and squeezed my thigh as I looked away. Lana noticed that I was visibly uncomfortable. She took my hand and said, "we can go home if ya want and we can talk to him when he gets back"

"Ok but can you do the talking because I will just end up crying"

"Ok ari"

We arrived home, we had to wait a couple of hours before Elvis got done doing god knows what with Claudia. When he arrived home I instantly noticed the red lipstick on his collar and neck, he was also drunk. Tonight was gonna be a long night especially with Lana here.

[hfhxjdndnnrnt]

Hey this is for the black girls the mixed girls and stuff like that anyone who identifies with she/they and has more of a feminine attitude

Now that I got the other way I’m writing a book and my main characters are both going to be people of color the girl I want her to be Black and mixed but I want other black girls to be able to relate what do you think some good quality traits are? or things that you struggle with are?  I mean it could be really anything but I really want to make my character relatable to people of color. So far I kind of got in Spond higher with my character so look I’ll probably post about that later though anyways please comment and tell me about literally anything on your experience of being black or colored experiences just something people could relate to please!



[fairy-hub]

𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐢𝐧’, 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧’ 𝐧’ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: high!reader, satosugu au, cocksucking/face-fucking/pussy-eating, double pentration (same hole/no anal), heavy heavy praise/teasing, confessions, heavy overstimulation, mindbreak, squirting, dacryphilia, begging, creampie, satoru sucks on the mix of cum that suguru scoops out of your cunt, cervix fucking, letting wine trickle into your mouth with a kiss/licking wine off of you, first time with the reader, size kink, satosugu in an established relationship (they had talked about their feelings with each other for you previously/Satoru has talked to you and set something up for suguru’s b-day), bdsm sex room, bondage (with long silk ribbon instead of rope), suguru is blindfolded temporarily, biting, spanking

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞! 3.1k/11 minutes

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: HI PRETTY;!! today marks geto suguru's birthday iirc (3rd of February), so could this nonnie pretty please with a cherry ontop request something, anything that involves his birthday!! :3 bonus points if Satoru's being a tease to him all the way through ♡♡ can be smutty or fluffy according to your own fantasies, author!

Oreo: thank you anon for reminding me about his b day it straight slipped my mind! 🫶🏽

Satoru leads Suguru towards you, long blue ribbons wrap around your chest, and waist, binding your arms behind your back. Your legs are free, unable to touch the floor. A small bullet vibrator is pulsing on your soft, sensitive clit. Your cunt is dripping wet, your body is trembling, and you can't stop moaning.

Satoru reminds you, “Don't speak gorgeous you’ll ruin it.” Suguru’s cheek, stopping Suguru close to your bound body. Satoru glides two long, thick fingers in with a loud squelch. “You can moan all you want sweetheart.” Satoru pumps his fingers faster, stroking your sweet spot.

Satoru lets go of Suguru, leaving him standing with a blindfold on and his hard cock hanging. There is a thick white pre-cum beading up on the tip of his cock. He remarks, “She sounds sexy, looks like we don't have to gag this one.”

“I had a feeling you’ll like how she’s sounds. Best birthday gift we’ve given in years.”

“We?”

“You'll see.”

Satoru admires your soft cunt stretching for his thick fingers. “I wanna be able to hear you when I close my eyes and touch myself.” Satoru glides his fingers out, smearing your slick on Suguru’s lips.

Suguru takes Satoru’s fingers into his mouth, licking and sucking with a loud groan. Till Satoru glides them out. “She tastes so good, I want more, lemme eat her out.” He reaches for the blindfold when Satoru gently grabs his wrist.

Satoru spits twice into his palm smearing it cover Suguru. Lowering Suguru’s hand as he drops his head back, softly sighing. “Fuck, love your hand is so damn soft.” Satoru lets him go, and closing the small space. Grinding his hips rubbing their cocks together.

Satoru looks down at the soft smile of lustful bliss on Suguru’s lips. “I'll let you take this off if you let me give you something first. It’s your birthday.” He slips Suguru’s blindfold off, tossing it aside.

Satoru steps aside to let Suguru see you. “We indeed, princess your trembling, how many times have you cummed?” Satoru hugs Satoru from behind with one arm. Grabbing Suguru’s thick, heavy cock, slowly gliding his fingers over his head, smearing Suguru’s thick pre-cum.

You moan, “Lost count! It feels good! I want more! Want something to split my cunt open.” The veins in Suguru’s cock pulse with his heartbeat racing.

Satoru pumps his swirling fist faster. “Helped her get high as fuck before tying her up. Left her with a vibrator on her clit, which is why she left the party a little early and why I spent so long in the bathroom.” He kisses Suguru’s shoulder, then bites.

Suguru moans, grinding his ass into Satoru’s cock. “Both of you will be forgiven if you let me do what I want.” Satoru grabs Suguru’s hair and tugs.

He protests, “But it’s your birthday!” Satoru slowly swipes his thumb over Suguru’s head. “Lemme suck you off, you can watch her cum, that vibrator is not going anywhere.” Satoru gets on his knees in front of Suguru, looking up at him, holding his cock up. His head close to Satoru’s lips.

“You look beautiful staring up at me like that.” Suguru grabs Satoru’s hair. “How’s about you suck my cock in between me stuffing it in her cunt?” He nudges Satoru’s lips then glides his cock deep into Satoru’s soft, warm wet mouth.

You can't string the words together, “Nnn fuck! Gonna! Nn! It feels!” Your soft cunt is squirting thick clear cum, writhing in the blue ribbon, your thighs trembling, your loud moans feeling the room.

You whine, “Too much! Wanna cum! Too muuuch!" Thick tears trickle down your face, and your cunt is dripping, adding to the puddle.

Satoru grabs Suguru’s thighs, digging his nails in. Suguru lets up, gliding his cock out and giving Satoru a moment to breathe.

Suguru remarks, “Our beautiful princess is obliterated n’ so fuckin’ wet. It’s been two hours! You’re so mean to her but fuck this is the best birthday gift y'all could have given me.” Suguru holds Satoru’s head still, his thick cock in Satoru’s throat, his nose touching Suguru’s short dark hair.

Slowly Suguru glides his cock out of Satoru’s mouth. Spit drips down Satoru’s chin, tears trickling down his face. “Crying from choking on my cock this easily? You’re such a pretty mess.” He smacks Satoru’s cheek with his heavy cock.

Satoru grabs his cock and trails soft kisses along him. He looks up at him with bright blue eyes. “Says the one getting off on it. Isn't that right daddy? You always like makin' me cry, make me beg to cum while my cock is drooling pre-cum.” Satoru quickly glides Suguru into his throat, gagging.

Suguru groans, tightening his grasp on Satoru’s hair. Keeping Satoru’s head still Suguru decides, “You less annoying with my dick in your throat.”

You cry, “Fuck!” The toy on your clit is becoming too much. You rub your thighs together; do nothing to move the vibrator off your clit. “Please! Please! Please!” Suguru glides his cock out of Satoru’s throat and steps around him. Leaving him on his knees trying to steady his breath.

Suguru turns off the toy, giving you instant relief and frustration. “Wanna be touched. Please! Wanna cum! But I'm tired of the toy!” Suguru gently takes the tape off, and you tense up, wincing from the soft stinging.

He tosses the toy onto the nearby bed. Then looks down at you, the admiration in his eyes has you feeling beautiful and desirable. “Poor sweet, beautiful mama. he gave you a lot didn't he, left you tied up in our sex room and made me think you left early.” He kisses your sensitive, puffy clit. You can feel your pulse in your clit. Going from the intense stimulation to no at all is unbearable.

Suguru grabs your thigh, holding it up, gliding one thick, long finger into you, softly pressing his thumb on your throbbing clit. You tense up, the pleasure is boarding on pain. He croons, “So sore and sensitive, the sudden lack of stimulation must be unbearable." He keeps his finger and thumb still.

You moan, "It is! Your hand feels wonderful, I love it when you touch me." His hands are slightly rougher and bigger than Satoru's.

Suguru wonders, "Are you sure you want more? I can take you down, clean you up, cuddle you close. keep my hand on your cunt. We can possibly let Satoru cuddle us." Satoru turns around on his knees and grabs Suguru’s hips then bites his ass.

Suguru jolts, his knees momentarily buckling before regaining the strength. He reaches back and grabs Satoru’s hair, “Damn brat.” He pulls Satoru off of his ass, pulling him up to his side. Causing Satoru to quickly move on his knees.

Suguru glares at Satoru who proudly smiles up at him. He wraps his hand around Suguru's cock slowly pumping his fist. "Do you want Suguru's fat cock in you?" Suguru lets go of Satoru's hair.

Satoru leans in and licks your dripping wet hole. You groan, "Fuck me please do what you want." You wrap your leg around Suguru's waist pulling him closer. Suguru stops you from closing the space completely. Gliding in another finger stretching you out.

Satoru pulls away, then sucks on Suguru's balls. Suguru groans, "He's such a fuckin' whore, now he can bother you more and me a little less. Welcome to the gojo problem."

Satoru pulls away from Suguru's balls and exclaims, "Hey I'm a delight."

"Sometimes."

"Occasionally a menace but you're our menace. It can be charming."

Suguru kisses your forehead then warns, "You're encouraging him."

Satoru stands up and wraps his arms around Suguru’s waist. Resting his head on Suguru’s broad shoulder. "She's right, you love it about me." Suguru's hips lightly buck when Satoru traces along his v-line.

Satoru insists to you, "Tell him sweetheart."

You wonder, “Like this?! Why not after?”

"Why not now?"

Suguru softly cups face. “You’re incredible mama, the color of your nipples, your soft clit, your wet lips.” He leans in, “Tell me princess.”

Your body flushes with a different type of heat. You look away from Suguru's intense gaze, “It’s stupid!” Tilting your head back groaning when Suguru's fingers graze that sweet spot that consumes you with sweet pleasure.

Satoru croons, “Aw you're sexy getting embarrassed while tied up."

Suguru pumps his fingers faster, lightly swiping your clit with his thumb. He gently kisses your cheek, urging you, "Close your eyes and say it beautiful."

You close your eyes and blurt out, “I'm not dating either of you so how can I be in love with you?" Suguru softly kisses you, gliding another finger in. Stretching out and loosening your soft cunt with his thick fingers. Your soft cunt squelches as he fucks three thick fingers into you.

Satoru pulls away from Suguru, moving behind you. Softly squeezes your ass before slapping both cheeks twice. He brings up, "It’s not like you don't already live here, it’s not like we message you good morning and goodnight when you do stay at your place.” He softly plays with your nipples, lightly squeezing, pulling, and massaging between two fingers.

Suguru adds, “Taking you on our dates, putting you in the middle. It chases off anyone that wants to flirt with you, we’ve been so damn obvious." He flicks, pinches, and twists your soft nipples.

You cry into Suguru's sweet, soft kiss. Suguru focuses on your sweet spot. Your soft cunt clenches his thick fingers. You're so close, getting off on the sweet pain as much as the overwhelming pleasure.

Satoru eases up, taunting you, "Aw how badly did that hurt?" He softly massages your aching nipples. Pressing his hard cock against your back, slowly rutting his hips. His pre-cum is smearing on your back, soaking into the silk wrapping around your waist.

Suguru glides his fingers out, smearing your slick on his thick cock. Then lines himself up with your soft cunt, lightly nudging his thick cockhead into you. "Fuck your soft cunt looks so beautiful love seeing the way she stretches to take my fat cock."

You moan and tug Suguru forward with your thigh gliding more of his cock into you. Suguru bottoms out and grinds his cock on your cunt, your soft cunt rubbing the soft ridge of his cockhead.

You whine, "Please!" Suguru slowly sinks his cock into you. Watching every inch glide inside your soft lips rubbing his cock. Satoru gets on his knees, groaning as he licks your hole stretching around Suguru's cock.

He kisses Suguru's balls and bites his thighs. Causing Suguru to roughly thrust in you. You whine, "Nnn fuuuck me." Suguru slowly fucks your squelching, warm cunt. His balls hit Satoru's face as he loudly groans. His warm tongue is soft on your cunt and Suguru's cock.

Suguru softly wraps his hand around your throat. "I thought we were too obvious. We haven't gone a single day without seeing you in the past year that we have met you." Satoru bites your ass, slapping your other cheek.

You cry and try to twist your hips away from Satoru. Who moves out from underneath you when he lets go. He grabs your hips and fucks you on Suguru's cock, making you meet Suguru's slow hard thrust faster.

You sheepishly moan, “I thought! Nnn I thought! Both of you were being really friendly.” Satoru rolls his eyes, letting you go and stepping away. His attention shifts to the wine in a bucket of ice.

Suguru lets your throat go, letting him grab your hips. Keeping his rough, hard pace steady. His face looks so beautiful when he is chasing his own pleasure with your cunt.

His soft brown eyes are fiery with an intense passion. His cheek flushing a soft pink, his mouth forming an o.

Satoru rolls his eyes, “Suguru might look sweet, but he is an asshole look at him! He barely tolerates anyone." He pops the wooden top off making Suguru and you jump.

Suguru with his cock in you snaps at Satoru, “I don't want to hear it from the sadistic dick that left her drugged and tied up with a vibrator.” He flips Satoru off who comes over, pouring some of the wine onto your tits soaking you.

Satoru defenses himself with, “I checked up on her when I was going to the bathroom.” He takes a swing then grabs your hair, yanking your head back and kissing you roughly. You part your lips and cool wine trickles in, forcing you to roughly swallow.

Suguru dips his head and licks the wine dripping down your chest. Slowly rolling his hips gliding his cock into you. Satoru pulls away and walks behind you, keeping his grasp on your hair firm.

He tilts the bottle pouring wine. You have to close your eyes and open your mouth Some of it trickles down your chin and neck. Suguru licks it up, wrapping his muscular arm around your waist.

The wine run dry, Satoru slaps your ass and lets your hair go. He walks away with the bottle setting it down on the closest surface.

Suguru groans “You’re so fucking wet, so soft n’ warm, love feeling your soft cunt squeezing my hard cock.” Fucking his thick, veiny cocky into you harder, faster, groaning when your cunt clenched him.

You loudly cry, “Daddy! Harder! Please! Fuck! Right there! Please wanna cum, please.” Suguru cock head is stroke that sweet spot. The pleasure is overwhelming, sweet and addicting making it hard to think.

Satoru comes back cock in hand waiting for Suguru to slow down and move his arm so he can line himself up.

You whine when Suguru stops and Satoru croons, “Don't worry your daddies are gonna help you cum, fill you full of cum, then cuddle you close after we clean you up.” Suguru bites your neck causing you to cry.

Satoru groans gliding his thinner but longer cock in, touching your cervix. The gentle burning ache fades with each of their unevenly thrusts, become toe curling pleasure, you’re so full of their thick, warm cocks.

Their cocks are rubbing together inside of you. Fondling your soft body with their large hands unable to get enough of how you feel. The sweet high makes your pleasure mind-numbing, body-tingling and intense.

It’s like you can't stop cumming. Your cunt is squelching, quivering and dripping wet.

Suguru groans, “You’re our’s! Need to hear you say it princess.” He slips his hand in between swiping your clit with his thumb, watching your cunt. “It’s so fucking sexy that your soft cunt can take both of us. Nnn Satoru’s is longer so my head keeps rubbing right beneath his.”

Satoru moans "It’s pushing me against her cervix, it’s like I might slip through, get deep in her guts.” Fucking you harder, you tense up, your toes curling jaw crying and eyes burning with tears from the sweet pain.

Satoru insists, “Tell our Daddy what he wants to hear, make this the best birthday we could give him." But the words are barely registering with you.

Fat tears trickle down your face. You cry, "Mine! Fuck! Miiiinnnnn! Daddy! Wanna!!”

Satoru breathy chuckle becomes a loud groan. He smirks at Suguru, "Hear that we are her new boyfriends and eventual baby daddies. I wonder if our cum mixes together in her does the dna-" Suguru chokes Satoru, who grabs your other thigh keeping it up, helping them bully your soft cunt with their cocks.

“I love you but shut up.” He pulls him in for a kiss. Your smaller body in between their large, hard muscular chest. You bite Suguru's thick pec as they make out over your head. He groans into Satoru's mouth.

Suguru's veins pulse warm thick cum spurts from his thick cock. He tightens his grasp on your thigh and you let his pec go. Satoru and Suguru break away, Suguru whines, biting his trembling body lip, his big muscular body quivering.

Suguru whines, "Fuck it's too much!" He goes to pull out when Satoru lets your thigh go. You wrap your leg around his waist. Satoru grabs a handful of Suguru's hair.

Satoru slips his hands between squeezing one of Suguru's tits along with pinching your nipple. "Don't pull out yet, wanna keep feeling rubbing our cocks together inside her soft warm soaking wet cunt." He looks down at your face, taking in your cock drunk expression as you rest your head on his chest.

"I can't believe you're our's to hold close, to fuck, to kiss, to say I fuckin' love you too." Satoru leans down for a soft kiss, contrasting his sloppy, rough pace. Suguru's legs are becoming wobbly, the pleasure becoming too much for him.

Suguru hunches over and bites your neck. Grabbing your hip, his thick fingers sinking into your soft hip's crease. He's trying to manage how good it feels to have your soft cunt squeezing him against Satoru's hard cock.

Suguru begs, "Fuck please cum Satoru." Satoru lets your sore nipple go, pulling Suguru in close crushing you with Suguru's chest.

He demands, "Wanna hear you both call me daddy."

"Please cum daddy!" Overlaps with,

"Wanna feel you cum daddy!" Satoru cum is thicker, tricking out of his cock when he's only half in you. He roughly stuff his cock in deeper, grinding his hips, rubbing his cockhead against your cervix. Pushing his cum in deeper with Suguru's.

"Happy birthday handsome." Suguru quickly bottoms out and stumbles over to the nearby bed where he collapses. Suguru stares up at the ceiling mirror, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.

You slur, "Appybirrday!" Suguru dryly chuckles, sitting up slowly. Admiring your tired, tied up the body with Satoru's cock in your soft cunt.

He softly smiles. "Both of you are beautiful." He stands up as Satoru slowly pulls his cock out. Together they carefully untie you, softly scattering kisses on your thighs, stomach, tits, ass, and cunt.

Satoru cradles your soft body to his chest, he kisses your forehead. Suguru kisses your cheek, "Let's get clean and fall asleep cuddling. I want her soft cheeks on my cock while I fall asleep." Suguru dips his thick fingers into your soft cunt scooping out a mix of cum which he stuffs into Satoru’s mouth.

He groans “Fuck that tastes so good.” Following Suguru to the bedroom. Where Suguru gets the shower started and Satoru sets you down on the toilet to use it.

When you try to stand your legs quickly give before you can even fully make get on your feet. Satoru grabs his hips, and croons, "Aw can't walk princess?" He bends over, holding his finger up next to his face. "Whose help do you need?" He softly taps the tip of your nose.

"Please carry me around and help me get cleaned up."

Satoru wiggles his finger, "No I wanna hear you say we are yours again." Suguru nudges him to the side and picks you up.

He insists to Satoru, "Stop holding her hostage." He sticks his bottom lip out in a pout. Following Suguru and You into the large shower. Where Suguru holds you to him underneath the warm shower.

Satoru wraps his arm around both of you. He whines, "You're no fun! I just wanna tease our princess a little."

Oreo’s m.list! 💕

[amiableness]

Little Lies

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader

Summary: James asks Sirius and Y/n to pretend to date after he blurts out they are to Lily.

Word Count: 11.4k

Warnings: smut 18+, male masturbation, oral fem receiving, fingering, unprotected sex (pls be so careful!), reader wears a bikini top, and jealousy

A/N 💌 Hope you all enjoy this; it's been my baby for a while!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I may have severely fucked up.” James sighs, his features tight with guilt as he stands before you. His chest is heaving like he has run all the way to you—it’s a likely theory.

Remus glances up from beside you; the two of you had been buried in your homework in the common room when James came racing in. He’s disappointed that James has disrupted the productive atmosphere. There’s no way that you or Remus will be continuing to work on your essays.

His admission doesn’t surprise you; James has come to you countless times seeking assistance after making a mistake. Being best friends since you were born, you’ve grown accustomed to being the one to untangle his messes.

Your parents were best friends, which meant that you and James were also raised to be. There wasn’t a memory that you could recall that James wasn’t in. It ended up working; to both of your mum’s excitement, you and James were inseparable. As the levelheaded one between you, you often found yourself trailing after James, tasked with picking up the pieces.

It was in the aftermath of pranks spiraling out of control, times when he impulsively voiced things he really shouldn’t have, or instances when he procrastinated excessively on his work, inevitably turning to you for help with his essays. Surprisingly, it’s become almost amusing to you, a reliable routine in your friendship.

You undeniably held the title of James Potter’s best friend.

Your eyes narrow skeptically, folding your arms over your chest, “Define severely.”

His demeanor turns sheepish as he nervously rubs the back of his neck, his gaze drifting away from you. He looks incredibly uncomfortable, “I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“You’re not starting off strong.” You snark, an amused smile finding its way onto your lips. Remus chuckles next to you.

“Y/n.” James sighs, his expression urging you to stop your teasing.

“James.” You mimic.

He shoots you a glare, eyes narrowed in mock irritation, “Lily and I were chatting, like really chatting,” He begins, sighing obnoxiously as he settles into the chair opposite you, his expression a grimace. “She told me why she hasn’t taken me seriously when I flirt with her.”

You pause, confusion etching into your features, “And where exactly did you severely fuck up?”

"She thought we were a couple." He says, his hands gesturing wildly between the two of you, his expression a mix of incredulity and amusement. "Can you believe that? You and me?”

You can believe that, actually. You and James have been mistaken for a couple more times than you can count. Even your parents were convinced the two of you would end up together. While you had told them it wasn’t going to happen, you were convinced they were still holding out hope.

You furrow your brows as you watch him a tad uneasy, “Okay, and where did you severely fuck up in this?”

“I panicked, okay?” James looks guilty when he blurts this out. He nearly shouts it, and Remus hushes him. “She said it wasn’t fair for me to flirt with her because of you. She didn’t want your feelings to be hurt and wouldn’t listen when I said we were just friends. And I panicked.”

“Mate, get to the bloody point.” Remus huffs out, tired of James dragging out the story. Nothing bothered Remus more than when James or Sirius took an eternity to get to the point of their story.

“I told her you’re dating Sirius.” James grimaces, shifting nervously.

“What?” You hiss, your palms smacking onto the table, causing James to flinch, “Have you taken too many hits to the head? James, we are not dating!”

James protests, panicking, "But Lily doesn't know that! If you two could just pretend-"

"No, absolutely not! That is going too far." You snap, sending James a frustrated look, while Remus is chuckling to himself next to you.

"Y/n, please. This could be it! My chance with Lily!" James pleads. He’s desperate to try and salvage the plan he had put all his hopes on.

"Starting your new relationship with a lie, are we?" You snap, massaging at your temples. Most of the stress is from spending too many hours studying, but James is undoubtedly making it worse.

James shrugs, a mischievous smirk starting to form, "Well, not really. You and Sirius already flirt a lot. It’s not that far off from the truth."

James was well aware of your feelings for Sirius; he had watched how you nervously stumbled over your words the first day you met Sirius. He had never seen you like that before, eyes lit up with inflation at first glance.

While he occasionally teased you about it, he understood that what you felt for Sirius was deeper than just a crush. Though you would never admit it out loud.

Your frustration grows, "It absolutely is far off from the truth. Lily probably didn’t even believe you! There's no evidence for her to believe the idea that we are together.” You cry, disbelief evident in your voice. James's casual attitude only adds to your frustration. He doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

Remus interjects, an amused scoff escaping him, “There's evidence to believe it."

"Are you joking?" You deadpan, your voice full of incredulity. Remus sends you a teasing smirk. He considers how Sirius flirts with you more than anyone else, but he doesn’t want to deal with Sirius furious at him.

Ever since you met Sirius, you have had a crush on him. Realistically, you knew it was pointless; Sirius had a fan club of admirers. So, you counted yourself lucky that you were one of his closest friends. Being his friend was manageable, and quite honestly, kept your expectations in check.

But Sirius acting like he had feelings for you? You wouldn’t handle that well.

James interjects, "Lily believed it. She even said she wasn't surprised."

"But she thought you and I were together?" You ask, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Your tone was snippier than you intended, but you could feel the stress building. The mere thought of pretending to be with Sirius made you feel nauseous.

"She might've just been jealous, wanting to know if you had feelings for James before she finally goes for him." Remus says casually, and James' eyes light up in excitement.

James is positively giddy as he leans forward, “You think she was jealous?”

"Does Sirius even know?" You interrupt, catching James's eye. He glances at Remus, clearly hoping to hear more about Lily’s supposed jealousy.

James shakes his head, and you scoff, opening your mouth to enlighten James on why you think this is a bad idea. Before you can say anything, Remus cuts you off, “Here’s your chance to tell him.”

You glance up to see Sirius walking through the library, and you resist letting out a lovesick sigh at how effortlessly handsome he is.

Your stomach plummets at the sight of a stunning girl effortlessly chatting with him. His laughter rings out, causing unease to settle in your stomach.

If he was close enough, you probably would’ve tried to eavesdrop.

Despite not knowing her name, you know she’s a Gryffindor; you’ve seen her in the common room. James nudges you, and when you glance at him, he sends you a knowing look.

"Glad to see you guys are having study dates without Peter and me." Sirius calls, settling into the seat next to James and patting him on the shoulder in greeting.

Relief washes over you as you notice that the girl who was with him a second ago is long gone. He glances over at you, and pauses in surprise at your disgruntled expression, "You okay?"

Remus chuckles at the question, finding the harsh look you shoot James hilarious. It’s clear that he’s finding this entire situation entertaining.

“Ask James about what he told Lily.” You say, voice strained with irritation. James sends Sirius a nervous smile, and Sirius looks at him oddly.

"What'd you do?"

Sirius asks, his eyes darting back to you, taking note of your frustrated expression. Your stomach tightens with nerves, scared of Sirius’ reaction. Remus leans back in his chair, excited to see how this will all play out.

"Lily and I were talking today," James sighs, "and she wouldn't stop going on about how she thinks Y/n is in love with me and that it's not fair for me to flirt with her because I could be hurting her."

"She thinks I'm in love with you?" You shriek, oblivious to the barely visible flinch on Sirius' face at James' words. Remus catches it, his grin getting bigger.

James ignores you, “Anyways, I said that it’s not a problem because you and Y/n are dating.” James finishes cautiously, his gaze locked on Sirius, curious for his reaction. Your breath is caught in your throat, your eyes fixed intently on Sirius, awaiting his reaction as well.

"You told Lily that Y/n's my girl?" Sirius inquires casually, causing your stomach to somersault at his words. You force yourself to focus on James instead of the warmth creeping into your skin.

"I panicked, and that's what came out. So, if you guys could pretend you're madly in love, that would be great!" James claps his hands together, and you feel the urge to wack him. You're prepared to snap at him, to explain why asking this of you both isn’t right.

But then Sirius shrugs, "Sure, shouldn't be too hard, right, sweet girl?" He says, and your legs feel like jelly.

You're floundering, not having expected Sirius to agree. He’s never maintained a steady relationship, so pretending that he’s dating you is a big ask. His agreement sends your mind spiraling with different scenarios. For a brief second, you wonder if he agrees so easily because he has feelings for you. But you quickly shut down that thought.

You’re delusional. You truly are.

"Sure, that shouldn't be too bad." You agree, hoping you appear casual about this.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"I need you two to amp it up. Lily is eating breakfast with us today." James directs, causing you to glance up from your breakfast, disbelief etched into your features. He takes a bite of bacon and casually observes you as though his request is perfectly normal.

"We've switched spots, is that not enough for you?" You ask sarcastically, and Remus shakes his head, wearing an entertained smile as he continues eating breakfast. He can tell you're panicking about pretending to be with Sirius; it’s painfully obvious to everyone at the table.

You're usually seated between James and Peter, but when you attempted to slide into the seat this morning, James slammed his hand down on the seat and instructed you to sit next to your boyfriend, wearing a smug smile. Peter snorted softly but quickly replaced it with a sympathetic smile, silently apologizing for his reaction.

"I mean, we all know Sirius is into PDA, and you look terrified to even be sitting next to him." Peter points out, and you find yourself scrabbling.

Were you two supposed to be super affectionate? Would Sirius find it weird if you initiated it? Questions are flooding your mind leaving you feeling overwhelmed.

"I am not terrified. I just don’t know how to act." You insist.

"Act like you’re in love with him; it shouldn’t be too hard, right?" James quips, earning a glare from you. He responds with a playful wink.

"The boys are right. You need to sit closer to me.” Sirius declares as his arm slips around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You squeak his name in surprise, flustered at how easily he moves you. The boys chuckle at your bewildered expression, finding your embarrassment hilarious.

You feel disappointed when he releases you. Even more so when he doesn't pull you flush against him. Instead, your shoulder to shoulder, the distance between you both feeling more pronounced than ever.

"I'm still waiting on the PDA." Remus says with a playful smirk; his eyes are full of mischief when you glance at him.

You elbow Remus in the side, and he playfully nudges you back, causing you to bump into Sirius' side. Sirius surprises you by wrapping his arm around you, keeping you against him while playfully calling out, "Oi, back off, mate." Being pressed against his side causes warmth to spread through you as you lean further into him.

James watches as Sirius's cheeks flush, a soft smile on his face as he gazes down at you. You appear flustered but content, being so close to him, and James can't help but grin at the two of you.

"We're not going to be all over each other." You say, attempting to distract yourself from the fact that you’re pushed up against Sirius.

"Why not?" James leans forward with a grin, clearly finding everything about this entertaining. “That is what most couples do. Plus, Sirius openly flirts with everyone. But he won’t kiss his own girlfriend? It’s not believable.”

“Merlin, we should have talked about this last night.” You mumble under your breath, and Sirius chuckles beside you. He's entirely at ease. It doesn’t seem like he has any worries about pretending to be your boyfriend. With that observation, you try not to let your worries spiral out of control.

"Listen, we can do whatever you're comfortable with. If you don't want to kiss, then we don't have to," Sirius tells you gently, "but it would be sort of odd for us not to be somewhat affectionate."

The last thing he wants to do is make you feel uncomfortable. But there's a rush of exhilaration at the thought of holding you close and calling you pet names that were once off-limits. And the thought of possibly kissing you?

Surviving that would be inconceivable for him.

"You're right," You nod. “Let's just start off slow. It will be weird if we're all over each other today when we didn’t even sit together yesterday."

"Yeah, yeah! Flirt, be a little touchy, throw some cute pet names in here, will you, Sirius?" James calls out with great enthusiasm. You send him a look that you hope he understands as shut the fuck up. He doesn’t acknowledge your discomfort. Instead, he makes a heart shape with his hands, which adds to your annoyance.

Sirius presses a quick kiss to your temple, “Fuck off, mate. I know how to flirt with my girlfriend, right baby?” You freeze, your eyes widening in disbelief, while the boys laugh at your reaction. How exactly were you supposed to survive this?

You fall into a comfortable silence, happy to enjoy your breakfast as James issues his warnings to the boys, ensuring they behave themselves. Remus, with a subtle eye roll, acknowledges James's words while Peter nods emphatically in agreement. While, Sirius simply outlines every embarrassing memory he plans to share with Lily.

“Y/n, get your man in check.’ James complains in mock irritation, throwing a grape at Sirius, who dodges it.

"Good morning." Lily greets quietly. You all turn to see her approaching, her expression a mix of embarrassment and hesitance, as if she's debating whether to turn around and go to her usual spot down the table.

James abruptly stands up, his hip thumping into the table. He stifles a wince, trying to maintain his composure as he greets Lily, who tries unsuccessfully to suppress a smile at his reaction. Remus cringes and turns back to his breakfast, unable to look at James.

"Y'ready for this?" Sirius leans in, his voice lowered to a hushed tone meant only for you, effectively pulling you away from eavesdropping on James and Lily's conversation. You glance up at him, surprised to find you’re a mere inches away from him.

You're so close that you could individually count each of his eyelashes if you wanted.

You still feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, creating an intimate connection between the both of you.

It feels like a magnetic pull draws you closer, tempting you to tilt your head forward and touch his lips with yours. The urge to kiss him is so strong that it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs.

You clear your throat, attempting to push the thought from your mind. "I think so. We're newly dating, so don't go overboard with it." You remind him, a gentle smile playing on your lips.

“When have I ever gone overboard with anything in my life?” The smile he gives you is teasing, and it makes your heart pound to have him this close, his eyes sparkling as he smiles at you.

You hum softly in response, “I can think of quite a few times.”

His voice carries a flirtatious tone, “Can you?”

“Good morning, Lily.” Peter's gentle voice steals your attention away from Sirius. Disappointment and longing settle in his stomach as he watches you pull away and turn to greet Lily, that sweet smile now directed at her.

Lily settles between Peter and James. For a quick second, you feel a pang of jealousy because that's your spot. But when you notice James's pink cheeks and flustered expression, you forget all about it. All you want for James is for him to be happy, and having Lily near seems to do just that.

Breakfast goes smoothly. Lily fits seamlessly into your group, and you can tell it makes James giddy. He doesn't even mind not getting to talk to Lily much. He simply enjoys seeing the girl he's so hopelessly infatuated with getting along so well with his best friends.

You and Sirius aren't acting much differently than you normally do, just sitting close to each other and chatting. However, when Lily turns to you and Sirius, a wave of nervousness washes over you.

“I was so excited to hear you guys were together!”

"Oh yeah? So you can finally go for James with a clear conscience?" Sirius grins, teasing Lily, who looks thoroughly embarrassed. You nudge Sirius in the side, and he responds by giving your hip a gentle squeeze. James sends Sirius an incredulous look, which he pointedly ignores. While Remus and Peter chuckle at the playful banter.

Lily tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and clears her throat; her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. "Uh, no, just that you two have obviously had feelings for each other for years. Everyone knew."

You're at a loss for words. Is that really what people thought? Clearly, they read you right, but you weren’t sure what to think about Sirius having feelings for you. Maybe he did, or maybe they were mistaking it for how he constantly flirted with you. But that was just how Sirius was; it didn’t necessarily mean he had romantic feelings for you.

"Haven't gotten her out of my head since the day I met her." Sirius says casually, his right elbow resting on the table as he pops a piece of bacon into his mouth. His other arm remains securely wrapped around your waist, holding you close to his side with a gentle yet firm embrace.

You look at him in shock, your eyes widening at his unexpected confession. Even the boys look slightly startled at Sirius' words, their eyes darting between you and him.

“That’s so sweet.” Lily says softly, her eyes glowing with genuine happiness as she sends you a warm smile. The sight tugs at your heartstrings but also stirs up guilt in the pit of your stomach. Lying always made you feel uneasy like a weight was pressing down on your chest.

"Sirius, I can't believe you thought that she—" Lily begins, her voice trailing off as James interjects, his interruption tinged with a hint of urgency.

"Okay, love! I think I should walk you to class, don't y' think?" James stands up from the table, extending his hand towards Lily.

Lily looks slightly confused, but she takes his hand nonetheless. As they walk away, James glances back and sends a wink in Sirius' direction. Your attention immediately shifts to Sirius, curiosity written all over your face as you’re about to ask about Lily's interrupted comment.

Sirius cuts you off before you can ask, shaking his head with a gentle smile and flushed cheeks, "Don't even bother asking; I’m not telling you what she was talking about.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You’re curled up next to Peter on the common room couch, both of you chatting quietly together. For the last twenty minutes, he has been feeding you details about the Ravenclaw girl he has a crush on. He's sworn you to secrecy. Hoping for your advice on asking her out without enduring the teasing of the rest of the Marauders. Your gasp of excitement nearly gives away the secret, but you quickly compose yourself, offering a reassuring smile to Peter.

"Who is she?" You ask, excitement laced in your voice, but Peter sends you an apprehensive look.

"I'm going to keep that to myself. Your squeal almost let the boys know.." He teases, though his tone also carries a note of seriousness.

A laugh escapes you, "I promise when you’re ready to tell me I’ll be so careful about keeping it a secret."

"Oi! Are you two sharing secrets over there?" James calls out, his voice immensely curious. He’s sat with his back to the flickering flames, his palms flat against the floor as he leans back on them. Peter tenses beside you, but you maintain an easy smile. Remus and Sirius are lounging in the armchairs nearby, their attention piqued by the exchange.

"All my deepest darkest secrets." You tease, flashing James a grin. He furrows his brow and sits up, clearly riled up by your response.

“Y/n, as your best friend, I better know all these secrets.” James lips are pouted, his expression tinged with a hint of concern, as if he's genuinely worried that you and Peter are sharing secrets that he doesn’t know.

James has always been fiercely protective of your friendship. Despite being close to the boys, your bond with James was stronger. There was nothing that the two of you didn't confide in each other; he honestly did know all your secrets.

“You do.” You smile reassuringly, and James's expression breaks into a satisfied grin.

The boys continue their soft conversation by the crackling fire, the warm glow casting flickering shadows across the room, while you and Peter sit in comfortable silence. Both of you are lost in thought as you relax in the cozy atmosphere.

After stifling a good five yawns, you glance at the time and decide it's probably best to head to your room, the quiet of the common room signaling just how late it had gotten.

You inch closer to Peter, before finding the courage to lean over and envelop him in a friendly hug, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

He's momentarily taken aback, his body tenses at your touch, but soon he relaxes, reciprocating by wrapping you in his arms. It's a gesture that feels somewhat out of character for you, but after he trusted you with his secret, it seems like the most natural thing to do, a silent affirmation of support for him.

"I think I'm going to go to bed." You tell him softly, "But I promise we'll talk more tomorrow."

“I’d like that.” He smiles at you as you pull away. You grab your bag and make your way in the direction of the stairs.

“Goodnight boys!” You call out softly over your shoulder before disappearing up the stairs. Sirius watches you go, his gaze lingering on your figure, his thoughts full of you long after you've left the room.

Ever since you moved to hug Peter, his eyes have been on you, curiosity and jealousy settling in his stomach.

"Why the hell did you get a hug?" Sirius asks, his tone laced with bitterness as his gaze shifts to Peter, who appears taken aback by Sirius’ sudden question. Remus and James exchange amused glances, before they refocus their attention on Peter, waiting expectantly for an explanation to ease the tension.

“I don’t know, she just hugged me.” Peter squirms uncomfortably in his seat, his confidence quickly dwindling as he's put on the spot.

Sirius nods slowly, his lips pursing in contemplation. His carefully measured tone betrays the longing and a hint of possessiveness that he struggles to conceal, "What were you guys talking about over there?"

Remus interjects with a teasing tone, "Careful, Pads. You sound jealous." A playful glint dances in his eyes as he notices Sirius' furrowed brows and the discontent on his face.

“He’s got the boyfriend role down.” James quips, and Sirius sends them both a glare.

“I’m not jealous,” Sirius repeats quite grumpily. “I just don’t understand why Peter got a hug, and we didn’t.”

James barks out a laugh while Remus shakes his head, a chuckle escaping him in sheer disbelief.

"You're jealous because you have feelings for her." James states matter-of-factly.

Sirius begins to shake his head in denial, but Remus promptly interjects, his voice firm and unwavering, "’Haven't gotten her out of my head since the day I met her.’ What the fuck was that then?” Remus repeats Sirius’ words from the other day, perfectly mimicking his tone.

James bursts into laughter, the sound hearty and infectious, while Peter offers a small smile, observing Sirius as he struggles to respond.

“Not to mention, you’ve been staring Peter down ever since Y/n touched him.” Remus remarks while Sirius gazes blankly at him, his expression unreadable as he nervously chews on his bottom lip.

“You really have.” Peter adds with a grimace.

“You like her, mate.” Remus concludes, his words carrying a sense of finality that lingers in the air.

Sirius sighs heavily.

The conversation weighs heavily on him as he sinks down in the armchair, his brow furrowed in deep thought. The boys’ words replay in his mind. He was jealous, and he did like you. He already knew all of this. But he had always been cautious around you, mindful of the unspoken boundaries because of your friendship with James. A nagging worry in the back of his mind that James would be against any relationship between the two of you. James was his greatest friend, and he worried he could lose him if he attempted to go for you. The idea of James being unfazed by a romantic relationship between you and Sirius threw him off balance. It vastly differed from the scenarios he had envisioned, where James would react with fierce anger upon learning of Sirius' affection for you. The realization left Sirius feeling torn. Did that mean he could actually go for you?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

As the air is warm and balmy, birdsong emanating from the trees while the leaves rustle in the gentle breeze. The sun casts everything in a golden haze, letting you know summer is near. The boys are certain of their decision: today is the perfect day to spend at the lake.

Laughter and chatter echo across the shimmering waters as the boys swim around the lake, reaching where you’re draped over a soft towel next to Lily. You have been trading gossip back and forth for the last couple of hours. It’s refreshing since usually you’re glued to the boys’ sides. You were constantly in the company of at least one of the four.

You feel a twinge of regret in your chest, realizing you haven't made an effort to have a close friendship with the girls. And you really should have. It wasn't a deliberate choice; James had always been your go-to person. Then, when you met the boys, you naturally formed close bonds with them, too. The thought of branching out and making more friends never really crossed your mind.

Though you value your friendships with the boys, you decide you desperately need to spend more time with the girls. The possibility of James and Lily getting together has you hopeful.

“You realize Sirius can’t take his eyes off you, right?” You choose to remain silent, only giving a shrug, fully aware that Sirius is merely pretending to be in love with you. To his credit, he's played the part convincingly throughout the entire week. There have been moments when you've found yourself questioning the authenticity of his actions, wondering whether his affection is genuine or merely his acting skills.

For someone who hasn’t had much practice with relationships, he possessed an innate ability to treat you like you were the only girl in his world. Whether it was a reassuring hand on your lower back as you maneuvered through the crowded halls, a tender kiss planted on your forehead when you parted ways, or the subtle exchange of flirty smiles whenever your eyes met across the room.

Sirius' laughter drifts over from the lake, reaching your ears, and a subconscious smile graces your lips. Lily must have seen your reaction, “Merlin, you really like him, don’t you?”

It was driving you to the brink of obsession. If this was the experience of being Sirius' girl, you wanted it more than before.

Despite your efforts to contain it, a sigh slips from your lips, "Yeah, I really do."

Confessing this feels uncomfortable. You've never talked to anyone about the depth of your feelings for Sirius, and now you're doing so under the guise of a fake relationship. You had come close to telling James, but you really didn’t need to. He had an uncanny ability to read you like an open book. Guilt churns in your stomach once more as you think about lying to Lily. What will her reaction be when you reveal that you and Sirius were never actually together?

The silence lingers for a few moments before you gently break it, "What were you about to say at breakfast the other day? Before James interrupted?"

Lily's expression shifts from confusion to excitement, her eyes lighting up, “Oh, in Charms! I finally wrangled it out of Sirius that he had feelings for you. But he insisted that nothing was ever going to happen because you didn’t like him back.”

It feels like you've been plunged into a tub of cold water. Your mind goes momentarily blank, a surge of disbelief flooding your senses as you struggle to comprehend Lily's words. Your body freezes in place, grappling with what this could possibly mean. There’s no possible way you heard her correctly.

“What? When was this?” Your voice escapes breathless and startled, yet Lily appears oblivious to it.

“Just a couple of weeks ago! I’m so glad he finally told you how he felt.” Lily smiles sweetly before laying back on her towel. If she notices you’re in a state of shock, she doesn’t say anything.

You hear a whistle, and no surprise, your best friend throws himself between you and Lily, “Don’t you two look pretty!”

Lily gasps as James leans down, playfully pressing his lips against her cheek, his hair dripping water onto her. Though she protests, you both can tell she doesn't truly mind it.

As James and Lily become wrapped up in their own world, you find yourself drifting back to the conversation from a moment ago. Your mind spins, still muddled by Lily's words. Sirius had feelings for you. Why hadn't he spoken up? Did he not want anything to come of it?

Your heart nearly stops when Sirius drops down and hovers over you, his hands propping him up on either side of your head. You barely register that he's shirtless and above you just before icy water cascades from his hair onto your skin. A startled cry escapes you as the cold droplets trickle down your cheeks, tracing a chilling path along your neck and chest.

“Sirius Black!” You had intended to sound angry, but laughter slips past your lips, betraying your emotions. Sirius grins at your reaction, his eyes trailing down from your eyes to shamelessly check out the bikini top you have on.

The boys had been teasing him relentlessly after witnessing how he practically fell to his knees when you walked into the common room wearing a bikini top and tiny denim shorts. You were oblivious to his gaze, heading straight for Lily and conversing about who knows what.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from you all day.

He feigns ignorance as you whine at him, responding with a sweet smile instead, “What, sweet girl?”

"Get off!" You squeal, though your tone lacks any real irritation. Deep down, you’re secretly enjoying having him so close, enveloping you in his presence.

“Whatever you want, sweet girl.” He mutters as he rolls off of you, repositioning himself so he's sitting behind you. With a gentle tap on your shoulder, he prompts you to sit up, then guides you until your back hits his chest. Once you're settled, he loosely wraps his arms around your shoulders before placing a kiss on your head.

Remus catches your eye as he and Peter make their way to their towels. Unlike Sirius and James, they hadn't hurried over to you and Lily. Instead, they took their time, chatting lazily while the sun warmed their skin. Remus sends you a sly, suggestive glance, and you respond by narrowing your eyes at him playfully.

Sirius and Remus engage in their own conversation, their voices blending into the background as Peter gestures for you to follow him. Sirius protests lightly, his eyes following you as you pull away from him to walk down to the lake with Peter.

You're gone for no more than twenty minutes, offering Peter advice on establishing a friendship with the girl he likes, perhaps making it easier for him to ask her out in the future.

Despite Remus' attempts to draw him back into the conversation, Sirius remains preoccupied, his gaze fixed on you until you eventually return and settle onto the towel beside him, seeking the familiar comfort of his presence. Only then does Sirius relax, draping his arm around you protectively.

He despises the twinge of jealousy that creeps in every time Peter has you to himself.

“Mate, you’re fucked.” Remus chuckles, and you assume it's due to something amusing said during their conversation. Sirius simply rolls his eyes and playfully extends his middle finger in Remus' direction, a gesture of mock annoyance that elicits a smirk from both of them.

The rest of the afternoon is spent wrapped up in Sirius as you chat with your friends and bask in the sun.

You spend the remainder of the afternoon draped over Sirius, basking in the warmth of the sun as you chat with your friends. It's been a while since you've felt so at ease.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After lounging by the lake all afternoon, the thought of cleaning up for a party you had little interest in attending felt like an unnecessary chore. However, after an hour of James' persistent pleading, you eventually gave in and agreed to go. You were confused about why he insisted on your presence, especially when he'd be busy spending the evening with Lily. You couldn't help but think you could have been snug in bed with a good book instead.

“How long do you think it will take before they get together?” You turn to Remus, who is leaning against the wall next to you. He wasn't thrilled about coming tonight, either. The full moon was approaching, and he could already feel the effects beginning to take hold.

You scan the bustling room, eager to catch a glimpse of James and determine Lily's proximity. Impatience simmers within you as you wait for them to get together. Their relationship seems overdue, and you’re desperate for it to happen, bringing an end to the relationship you and Sirius are forced to maintain. Though being Sirius' girlfriend has its perks, the artificiality of the situation weighs on your conscience.

After a lazy afternoon enveloped in Sirius' arms, you had returned to your room feeling unsettled. The comfort of being held by Sirius felt genuine, yet it was all fake, and that realization deeply unsettles you. The longer this relationship goes on, the more you worry about your heart being left in pieces at the end.

“Probably any day now. Why? You aren’t having fun being Sirius’ girl?” Remus asks, casting a knowing smirk in your direction. You huff and give him a playful nudge, causing his drink to slosh around in his cup. He chuckles in response, amused by your reaction.

"It's not that, and you know it." You respond, frustration evident in your tone.

Remus turns towards you, a genuine smile on his face this time, "You guys are doing quite the job of looking infatuated with each other."

You shoot him a warning look, sensing where the conversation is headed.

But Remus persists, his gaze steady, "You should consider telling him how you feel."

You scoff. "Absolutely not."

"Why not? What have you got to lose?"

You meet his gaze, incredulous, "Our friendship, for starters."

Remus shakes his head, "Do you really think Sirius would end your friendship? I doubt you could get rid of him if you tried."

You meet Remus's gaze, your brow furrowed with uncertainty, "Okay, maybe he wouldn't end our friendship. But things would definitely get awkward, and who knows where it could lead."

Remus offers a small smile, "Or it could go well. You could end up together."

You remain silent, the weight of Remus's words sinking in as you contemplate the idea of confessing your feelings to Sirius. Your stomach churns with anxiety at the mere thought of opening up to him. The fear of rejection and the potential fallout from confessing weighs heavy on your chest.

But Lily had shared with you that Sirius had opened up about his feelings for you. Maybe there was a possibility that confessing your own feelings might not be as far-fetched as you had assumed. Maybe being with Sirius wasn't entirely out of reach.

Remus observes the slight furrow in your brow as you chew on your bottom lip, a clear indication of your spiraling thoughts. The dim light of the common room highlights the unease on your face. "Do you want a drink?" He offers, his voice gentle and reassuring.

You pause, considering his offer, grateful for the distraction, "Yes, please." You respond with a small smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly.

As Remus leaves to fetch you a drink, you're left alone with your thoughts, the chatter and laughter of the crowded common room serving as a backdrop to your contemplation. Your eyes wander over the sea of bodies, each occupied with their own conversations and activities, creating a lively yet chaotic atmosphere.

“Y/n, hi!” You startle as Max Townsend stands beside you, his sudden presence catching you off guard. You recall being partners in Charms a couple of weeks ago, but beyond that, your interactions had been limited.

"Hey, Max." You greet with a soft smile, noticing how his shoulders relax slightly at your acknowledgment. He settles against the wall, his posture casual yet attentive, as if genuinely interested in chatting with you.

"I know we haven’t talked much since Charms, but I’ve been meaning to catch up with you." Max says, his voice earnest as he breaks the silence between you.

You're surprised by his remark, "You have?" You ask, genuine curiosity coloring your tone.

"Yeah! I enjoyed spending time with you." Max admits, his voice slightly shaky as he offers you a shy smile. You notice the faint blush coloring his cheeks, a sign of nervousness.

"I enjoyed spending time with you too! I don’t think I could have passed the last exam without your help." You respond sincerely, returning his smile with warmth. His face lights up at your words, visibly relieved.

He regains some confidence and continues, "Actually, Y/n, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade sometime?"

Your smile falters, and you feel a pang of guilt. You have the excuse of having a boyfriend, at least. It makes things a little easier for you. For a second, you debate if you should say yes, go on a date, and move past your feelings for Sirius. But then you think about Lily‘s words and how he might possibly like you back. Not only that but you’re supposed to be in a relationship right now.

You can't bring yourself to say yes; truth be told, you don't really want to, anyway.

"That’s really sweet of you to ask. But I’m dating Sirius." You reply though the words feel heavy on your tongue, wishing they were true.

Max looks taken aback, "Sirius Black?"

"Yes." You confirm, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over you; turning someone down is always an awkward and uncomfortable experience.

Max shakes his head, looking confused, "I didn’t know Sirius-"

"You didn’t know what, Townsend?" Sirius looks hard at him, slipping his arm around your waist and handing you a drink. "Here, baby, Rem said you wanted a drink."

You thank him quietly, settling into his side with ease. Glancing up at him, you notice Sirius isn't looking at you; his gaze is fixed on Max. His jaw clenches tightly, and his usual friendly smile is absent. The message to Max is clear: back off, she's mine.

Max looks uneasy, eyes darting from you to Sirius, “Uh, I didn’t know you and Y/n were together.”

“And why were you talking about that?”

“Uh,” Max looks at you briefly, his expression tinged with panic. He lets out a sigh, reminiscent of a child caught in the act and resigned to confessing. “I asked her out.”

Sirius' entire body tenses, his tone laced with mock curiosity, “Did you?”

He feels sick at the thought of you going on a date with another guy. Images flash through his mind – Max holding your hand on a walk through Hogsmeade, flirting with you over dinner, and the possibility of him kissing you goodnight before you head back through the portrait at the end of the night.

A surge of intense emotion floods him, an overwhelming desire to lash out, to throw a punch and convey the unmistakable message that you are off-limits.

But then the reality hits him: you're not off limits. You're perfectly single, and maybe you actually wanted to go out with Max. The realization sinks in, gnawing at him from the inside, intensifying the ache in his chest.

“But look, man, I didn’t know she was your girl! Honest.”

"Max, it's okay. Really." You interject gently, offering him a reassuring smile. Max nods frantically, clearly relieved, before hurrying off in the opposite direction and disappearing into the crowd of Gryffindors.

“What the hell was that?” You turn to Sirius, but he refuses to meet your gaze. Instead, he drops his arm from your waist and leans back against the wall, taking a long sip from his drink, his expression unreadable

“Playing the part of your boyfriend. You should go find James, he was looking for you.” His mutterings reach your ears, and your stomach clenches with irritation as hurt flashes over your features. He's never shut down before you, and it hurts your feelings deeply.

You don’t bother saying anything; instead, you scoff and walk away. Sirius’s eyes follow you the second you leave, watching as you walk away with a heavy feeling settling in his stomach.

Maybe he did need to express his feelings to you. There might be a chance that you felt the same way. And if you didn't, at least he would know and could attempt to move on from you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I think you need to check on Sirius.” James murmurs into your ear as you stand in the common room, waiting for Lily to join you. You're flanked by the boys, but Sirius is conspicuously absent.

You glance over at him, confused, “Why? Is he not coming down?”

“He bailed, said he isn’t feeling good.”

“He isn’t coming to Hogsmeade with us?” You all had meticulously planned your trip to Hogsmeade during the lake outing yesterday, discussing the shops you wanted to visit and the Butterbeer you couldn't wait to taste.

“Oh,” You mutter, “I’ll check on him and catch up with you guys then.”

You still harbor concern for his well-being, a lingering sense of care that remains despite the the frustration you feel about last night. You ascend the stairs, faintly catching Peter's inquiry about your destination and James' response that you won't be joining them anymore. You contemplate turning around, half-tempted to inquire with James about his statement, but decided against it, choosing not to waste your energy.

You're so deeply immersed in your thoughts as you walk through the hall that you don't even notice the sound at first.

The muffled noise filtering through the boys' dorm door catches your attention, causing you to pause in front of the door. You briefly entertain the idea that Sirius might be genuinely unwell, but skepticism lingers in your mind. The persistent groans don't quite fit the pattern of someone who's just sick.

You were on the verge of turning around, genuinely considering it, until you caught a muffled moan that distinctly sounded like your name.

You pause, questioning the authenticity of what you just heard, wondering if it was a figment of your imagination or if you truly heard your name. But then you hear it, “Fuck, Y/n. Feels so good.”

Your legs turn to jelly, the words coursing through your veins like an electric shock, leaving you feeling stunned and breathless.

Without a second thought or even a plan forming in your mind, you find yourself knocking on the door. Inside, you hear a muffled curse followed by shuffling before Sirius swings the door open nearly a minute later, clad only in pajama pants. His hair is tousled, his cheeks flushed, and he's breathing heavily. The surprise on his face is evident as he takes in your unexpected presence.

“What were you just doing?” Your words spill out more confrontationally than you intended, catching Sirius off guard. The surprise flickers across his face, evident in how his eyebrows knit together and his eyes widen slightly.

“Uh, I-” He glances back into his room, searching for a believable excuse among his belongings. Flustered, he struggles to come up with a convincing lie.

"Sirius," You press, and his eyes flicker back to you. He appears guilty, aware that you've caught on. "I just heard you." You add, your tone that is firm but not accusatory.

“Merlin, Y/n. I’m sorry I-” He stammers, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach at the mere thought of you possibly feeling disgusted with him or worse, refusing to remain his friend because of what he’s just done.

“What were you thinking about?” You ask instead, taking a deliberate step closer to him. The room feels charged with tension, and you can sense Sirius's unease. His breath hitches as your presence draws nearer, his eyes flickering with a mix of apprehension and anticipation.

He glances over your shoulder, his gaze flicking to the empty hallway outside before he answers, “You.”

“Me?” You take a tentative step closer, your voice barely a whisper compared to before, its tone huskier, laden with curiosity and perhaps a hint of intrigue. You fix him with a daring look, a glint of challenge in your eye, as if silently daring him to take action.

He remains silent, his gaze fixed on you for a fleeting moment before he takes action, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the dorm without a word.

As soon as the door shuts, he presses you against the door, his movements swift and urgent. You let out a gasp in surprise, feeling the sudden shift in atmosphere as Sirius's intensity envelops you. His eyes, usually filled with mischief, now bore into yours with a mixture of seriousness and vulnerability.

“Y/n. Why did you knock on the door?”

You don’t answer at first, your eyes locked with his for a few heartbeats before you let out a sigh, “Because I heard you say my name, and now I know you want me the same way that I’ve always wanted you.”

Sirius doesn’t hesitate, his lips meeting yours with a sense of urgency that sends a shiver down your spine. The moment his touch connects with yours, you exhale softly, feeling the warmth of his lips against yours. With gentle pressure, you draw him closer, your arms wrapping around his shoulders while Sirius’ embrace envelops you, pulling you closer as if he never wants to let go.

He initiates with a tender kiss on your lips, then gently nibbles on your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp. Seizing the opportunity of your parted lips, he intensifies the kiss, pressing forcefully into your mouth. Sirius kisses you as if each moment is the first and last time, molding you into pliancy. You willingly surrender, allowing him to kiss you into a state of blissful oblivion.

As he withdraws, a soft whimper escapes your lips in protest. He casts a questioning glance your way as he lifts the hem of your shirt, and you respond with a nod of affirmation. Slowly, he peels it off of you and lets it drop at your feet. Shamelessly, he admires your breasts and how they sit so pretty in your black bra. For a moment, the thought of apologizing for the simple garment crosses your mind, but the way his gaze lingers on you halts any inclination to do so.

He leans down, pressing kisses and nipping at the exposed skin on your neck and trailing his way down to your chest. It steals your breath away, prompting you to weave your fingers through his hair as you tilt your head back, reveling in the sensation. He's murmuring praises against your skin, ranting about how beautiful you are, how sweet your moans are, and how you drive him crazy. Your heart pounds within your chest, and for an instant, you fear its thunderous rhythm might betray you, considering how near he stands.

“Take it off.” In a hushed tone, you speak, prompting Sirius's gaze to swiftly rise and lock with yours.

He encircles you with his arms, quickly undoing your bra, and you deftly push the straps down, allowing the garment to cascade down, unveiling your skin. Swiftly, you toss it into the growing pile that appears to be taking shape by the door.

Sirius gazes intently, his bottom lip captured between his teeth, and a subtle furrow forms between his eyebrows, “Fucking hell, y’have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.”

Before you can utter a word, his mouth is on your breasts. Pressing the softest kisses onto your nipple before gently biting it, causing your breath to hitch. He bends down, mirroring the gesture with the other one.

His hands, possessively grip at your hips, act as anchors, momentarily keeping you in place. However, a growing restlessness takes hold, and you start to squirm, a subtle plea for more of his attention. Silently comprehending your unspoken desire, he wordlessly responds. A gentle tug on your hand is all the communication needed, and without a moment's hesitation, you obediently follow his lead.

Guiding you, he directs you to settle onto his bed, a silent request you readily heed. Your legs dangle over the edge of the bed as you rely on your elbows to bear all your weight.

Sirius kneels in front of you, easily slipping off both of your shoes and tossing them to the side. He reaches up, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your skirt before tugging it down and off of your legs. You’re left in a pair of gray panties that easily show how soaked you are for him.

He pushes on your knees until your legs are completely spread for him, and he can get a clear view of your soaked underwear. A hushed curse escapes his lips, the words slipping out quietly as his gaze lingers on you.

“You’re fucking stunning. I don’t know what I did to deserve this. To deserve you.” You bask in his words, your body thrumming with warmth and delight as his sweet sentiments wash over you.

He glances up at you, and he nearly loses it right then and there. You’re watching him through hooded eyes, your pupils dilated wide, a silent reflection of your anticipation and desire. He doubts he could ever erase the image of the way you're gazing at him, etching it into his memory with the fervent wish to witness it for the rest of his days.

He caresses his hands along your thighs, fingers gently squeezing and kneading with each pass. Occasionally, he leans down, planting tender kisses on your sensitive skin, each one a whispered promise of affection. The closer he gets to your core, the more you squirm and let out soft whimpers.

“Can I take your panties off?” He asks, glancing up at you from between your thighs. The pad of his thumb brushes against your clit, and you jolt in surprise.

A gasp escapes your lips as you're overtaken by the sensation, yet swiftly, you find yourself nodding frantically in response, “Please.”

Overrun with desperation, Sirius pulls at them with such fervor that they nearly tear as he tugs them off. You can't help but giggle at his fervor, amused by his frantic actions and the unmistakable look of pure desire written across his face. He wouldn't be surprised if he was drooling, staring the sight of your glistening pussy.

“I want to be inside of you.” He declares, standing up from the floor, leaning over you to firmly grasp your jaw before capturing your lips in a heady, intoxicating kiss. The moan that escapes you sounds so foreign, so unlike yourself, that it catches you by surprise, leaving you momentarily taken aback. You don't bother vying for dominance, allowing him to take control of the kiss. He withdraws from you leaving your chest heaving and breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“Take your pants off.” You demand, reaching desperately for the band of his pajamas to shove them off. Sirius beats you to the task, swiftly shoving them off himself in a display of impatience.

“Sirius.” Drool pools in your mouth at the sight of him. Long, thick, and pretty. Your lips part slightly, and you look up at Sirius in surprise, caught off guard by him. For a fleeting moment, you sit there, eyes locked, contemplating whether you'll be able to take him or not. He’s bigger than anyone you have ever been with before.

Sirius doesn’t let you stare for too long before his fingers are sliding through your soaked folds and brushing over your clit. Whimpers and moans tumble past your lips as Sirius rubs firm circles over you to get you adjusted before dipping down and pressing two fingers into you. A cry escapes you at the intrusion, and your hand instinctively reaches down to grip his bicep firmly.

Sirius startles you by leaning down and pressing the softest kiss to your clit, before licking you the bundle of nerves softly. Your body tenses with pleasure, hands gripping the sheets beneath you.

“I’ve always wanted to taste you.” He confesses a surge of heat courses through your body, igniting every nerve ending as you absorb his words. He doesn’t waste another second before leaning down and gently sucking on your clit.

"Please don't stop." You plead softly, and Sirius complies, continuing with unwavering determination. He nips and sucks, licking through your folds and holding your thighs open for him. His fingers continue to slide in and out of you; the sounds you’re making are obscene.

You’re struck by the thojught that this doesn't compare to any other times that you’ve been eaten out. But maybe it's not just his technique that feels good; it might be the fact that its Sirius who’s between your legs.

Your thighs tremble, and a euphoric sensation begins to build up in your stomach, making it feel like you are floating on a delightful high.

“Sirius, I need you.” You gasp sharply, your fingers instinctively tugging on his hair, signaling for him to ease up. You wanted to come together for your first time, as cheesy as it may have been.

As he rises to his feet, your eyes meet, and contagious, goofy smiles spread across both of your faces. In this shared moment, a mutual understanding passes between you—acknowledging the absurdity of the situation yet reveling in the fact that there's nowhere else you'd rather be.

You watch as he wraps his hand around himself, dragging his hand up and down a few times. He whispers for you to scoot back until your head rests against the pillow, and with a gentle nod, you comply. He follows suit, settling on his haunches before you, creating a comforting, intimate space between you both.

“Y’ready?” He asks in a hushed tone, leaning in to hover over you, and at that moment, a rush of memories floods your mind, reminiscent of yesterday by the lake. You're convinced you must look rather pathetic with the speed of your nod, but Sirius only responds with a sweet smile.

With a grip on his cock, he slides the tip through your slick, both of you sucking in a breath at the sensation. He gently pushes at your entrance. Sirius steals a glance up at you, silently seeking reassurance, and you respond with a simple nod and a warm smile, letting him know that everything is perfect. Sirius catches you off guard as he leans down, tenderly pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips, a gesture filled with unexpected sweetness.

His gaze shifts, watching as he pushes his cock inside of you, letting out a string of curses as your pussy grips him tight, pulling him deeper inside.

“Fuck,” Gritting his teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut, breathing deeply through his nose, determined to regain control and prevent himself from losing composure. He’s sitting fully inside you, and he has to take a breather because you feel better than he could have ever imagined. The last thing he wants is for this to end as soon as it begins.

His voice sounds utterly shattered, “You’re so wet, fuck.”

You entwine your fingers in his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingertips as you pull him closer, urging him to meet your lips with his own. The anticipation builds as his warm breath mingles with yours, creating an intimate connection before the gentle press of his lips against yours. Parting your lips, you deepen the kiss, and Sirius eagerly reciprocated.

“Sirius. Fuck me, please.” You exhale softly against his lips, and Sirius responds with a low, guttural groan of longing and desire.

He doesn’t waste any time before dragging his cock along the sensitive walls of your pussy, before thrusting back into you, “God, your pussy feels incredible.” The cry that escapes you resonates loudly in the room, and you're immensely grateful that everyone is out at Hogsmeade. The absence of others allows you the freedom to be as uninhibited as you are, knowing that the full dorms would never afford you the same level of privacy and volume.

“Feels so good.” You gasp, head rolling to the side, your cheek resting against the pillows. Sirius’ hands rest against the back of your thighs, holding your legs against your chest, giving a clear view of the way his cock is so seamlessly slipping inside of you.

He watches you, transfixed on the way your brows pinch together in pleasure, lips parting to let moans slip past. It's as if a dam has burst within Sirius, an unstoppable torrent of words and emotions pouring forth as he finds himself unable to contain everything he's been holding back.

“Fuck, you sound s’pretty, sweet girl,” The groan that leaves his lips is downright sinful. “Thought about this pretty pussy all day. Pretended to be sick just to get off to the thought of you.”

“Sirius.” You whine, reaching out to thread your fingers through his hair and pull him down to you. You’re soaked and aching, desperate for Sirius to fuck you faster. However, much to your disappointment, he remains insistent on maintaining a slow, teasing pace.

“Pictured, tugging that fucking bikini top down. Watching your tits bounce while I fuck you. Fuck, cumming all over them.” The whine that escapes you feels pathetic, and under different circumstances, you would've been embarrassed by it. However, given the situation you're in, embarrassment takes a backseat.

“I know, baby. I know.” He complies, adjusting his position so that his right arm supports him above you while his left hand gently traces your skin. Brushing over your nipples, trailing up and over your tits, before placing his hand loosely around the base of your throat.

“You’re fucking perfect,” He grunts, admiring how ruined you look for him. Your mascara smudged beneath your eyes from tears, and your lips swollen from his earlier kisses. He loved seeing you like this. Being the one to ruin you, to smudge your makeup and bring you to tears. “Taking my cock s’well.”

You’re incoherent, begging for Sirius to go harder, to fuck you faster. Hands pawing at his ass, desperately trying to bring him closer.

His hand squeezes your throat gently, “Tell me you want me to fuck you harder. C’mon love, wanna hear you beg for it.”

A smug grin tugs on Sirius’ lips as he watches you struggling to form words. You’re getting close if the way you’re squeezing him so tight and rolling your hips is any indicator.

But then a desperate, needy whine with the words he so badly wants to hear slips past your lips. Babbling about needing his cock and wanting him to ruin you. The second he hears your pleas, he thrusts into you harder, setting a brutal new pace that has you crying for him.

“I’ll give you anything you ask for, m’love.” He speaks so sincerely that you feel a surge of emotions welling up inside, an overwhelming urge threatening to bring tears to your eyes.

Overcome with your emotions, you reach for Sirius’ hand and interlace them together before Sirius presses your clasped hands into the sheets. His headboard thumps against the wall rhythmically.

“Need you to fill me up. Please.” You plead desperately, and Sirius curses, his voice rough and strained.

“Shit, that’s my girl. Want me to fill you with my cum?” It's the praise that pushes you over the edge. Your back arches, pressing your breasts into Sirius’ chest and your legs tremble.

“Doing so good f’me.” He’s close behind you. Your tight, wet walls clenching around him is what does it for him.

“Fuck, baby. Gonna cum. Fuck.” Sirius moans, burying his head in the crook of your neck as his hips stutter and you cry out at the feeling of his warm cum filling you up. You clench his hand tightly, your nails likely leaving imprints on his skin. A sob escapes your lips, and your fingers weave through his hair, a desperate attempt to draw him closer.

You both remain entwined, lost in each other's embrace as you gradually come down from the euphoric highs. The room resonates with the sound of your intertwined breaths, each one heavy and labored. Your body feels utterly slack, every muscle loosened, and you're so relaxed that you could easily doze off at any moment.

Sirius presses a couple of tender kisses against your neck, eliciting a satisfied hum from you. When he withdraws from you, a wince escapes you as you feel the separation, and Sirius’ eyes dart up to you in concern.

“Y’okay, sweet girl?”

“I’m okay, just sore.” You grace him with a sweet smile, and Sirius leans in, gently pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Gonna get a towel, one second.” He assures you, rising from the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. You listen to the faucet running and the faint sounds of the cupboard opening and closing. Lying back, you gaze up at the ceiling, absently nibbling on your thumbnail until a smile breaks across your face at the thought of what just happened.

“Here, love.” Sirius says, sitting on the edge of the bed holding a washcloth in his hand. He’s got a fresh pair of pajama pants on, you didn’t even notice him grab clothes from his trunk, too lost in your thoughts.

Sirius gently grips your ankle, encouraging you to spread your legs. His breath hitches at the sight of his cum dripping out of you and onto his sheets, desperately hoping to see this sight again. He murmurs a curse under his breath, his touch gentle as he delicately uses the warm washcloth to clean between your thighs.

“There.” He whispers softly before aiding you to sit up. As you glance over, you notice the t-shirt and pajama pants laid out beside him, meant for you. Your heart swells with warmth as he assists you in slipping it over your head. With a grateful smile, you slide into the pajama pants. Meanwhile, Sirius utters evanesco to fix the sheets up, before joining you in bed.

“C’mere.” He beckons to you, sinking into the pillows, and you nestle against him, finding solace as you rest your head on his chest.

In the silence, you both relish the comfort of each other's embrace, enveloped in a cocoon of intimacy. Lost in contemplation, your mind wanders, grappling with what just happened and what that meant for the both of you.

"That wasn't just a one-time thing, was it?" You inquire, the hopefulness evident in your tone.

"No," Sirius responds, tilting your chin so you can meet his gaze. "I want you to be mine, for real this time."

The fluttering butterflies that dance through your stomach are overwhelming as you absorb his words. A lovesick grin spreads across your lips, unable to contain the rush of emotions coursing through you, “Then I'm all yours."

You settle back into Sirius, and his arms hold you against him. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your head lull you into a serene state, the sound of his steady heartbeat serving as a soothing lullaby that guides you into a peaceful sleep.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"I'm sorry, so you asked us to fake it not for Lily, but for Sirius and I to get together?" You gaze at James, confused, knitting your brows, while he sits opposite you at the table. Remus and Sirius are absorbed in their own conversation, and Peter is having breakfast with the girl he harbors a crush on. Despite their current status as friends, Peter seems overjoyed nonetheless.

James grins, casting you a smug look. "I mean, Lily genuinely thought you and I were a thing. At first, it really was because Lily thought we were together, but then I realized that this was the perfect way to get you and Sirius together.”

“James! So you lied to us?” You huff in disbelief.

James shrugs nonchalantly, his demeanor radiating an air of casual indifference, “You already knew I lied to Lily; what’s the difference?”

You sigh softly, "That's true, but what about you and Lily? Are you two getting together?"

James smiles, “We’ll get there eventually. This was more about you and Sirius. And before you start, yes, I’ll tell her the truth.” He sends you a pointed look, and you chuckle, already preparing to remind him to come clean to Lily.

"You're certifiably insane." You tease, exhaling a laugh.

“Well, it worked, didn’t it? You got the guy.” James watches with delight as a lovesick smile effortlessly graces your face before you steal a glance at Sirius.

"Oh, hey. Pick up your clothes next time you're napping with Sirius," He remarks casually, but the emphasis on the word napping lets you know that he's fully aware there was more happening than just sleep. "My shoe got tangled in your bra."

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Kissed by Moonlight (Alucard x Witch! Reader) 2

A/N: Thank you for your patience! I've been very busy with Monstober and have taken time to focus more on this story. Hope you enjoy it!

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Chapter 2

In your dreams, you’re whole again, and the happiest you’ve ever been.

You jolt in a familiar bed, one cold and worn from the years melting away: a bed too small. Yet, it’s not the bed you had when you were under Bogdan’s roof, and it brought forth fond memories.

Your mother was situated by her workbench, humming a soft tune you remembered from your childhood. Standing behind her, you could only watch, observing how she had not aged since that day, and she looked as you remembered.

“You are very hard to communicate with, sweet girl,” your mother spoke, her dark dress swayed in the deadness of the air, keeping her back to you. “Your mind has been elsewhere.”

“I don’t understand how I’m speaking to you,” you wavered, holding a hand hesitantly but pulling away, afraid of touching her again, “you are not here anymore, mama.”

“I and my sisters are in the ancestral plane, my girl,” she continued. “I have always been with you, in mind and spirit.”

You could only choke on a laugh, bitterly replying, tears threatening to spill. “Then I must have failed myself for losing all my powers. I’m not the prophecy you spoke of.”

Your mother turned so you could see her face finally, and a veil covered her face, darkness shrouding her appearance. Despite not being able to see her face, you knew she was smiling.

“Why do you think that?”

 “I cannot do anything,” you held your hands out in front of you, trying to concentrate on anything, flames or cold to reach your fingertips, yet nothing came, “I am hopeless.”

“You are speaking to me through a veil of limbo, are you not?” She questioned and there was sadness in her tone, as if you had disappointed her.

It made you question her words, thoughtfully reflecting on them. “You did not teach me about astral projection—or how to reach the veil of the ancestral plane. I… did not know it existed.”

“It belongs to us,” she sang sweetly, “it has always belonged to us, my Y/N.” She reached towards you and placed a hand on your shoulders, her grasp as cold as death.

“There is one thing that has always made me proud of you, what has made the sisters believe in you,” she spoke, and you felt the chill spread like wildfire through your chest. “You were everything they needed in a witch.”

-

The comfort of dreams and darkness spat you out until you felt exhausted, shuddering back life into you.

Your mind felt as if it was in the middle of a fog, slowly clearing up as your heavy eyes opened and shut with the contrasting brightness. The burning sensation seemed to dwindle from your chest, and you were replaced with the cold that came harshly.

You shivered, groggily taking in the sight of flames that brightened the already dark room. You seemed to be in a reception or lounge, the Corinthia you were laid on was a deep crimson colour, and gold leaf trim took part most of its decoration.

“I see you’re awake.” The same voice cut through the sharpness of the air, startling you to stare at the entrance. Oh, right, your saviour—if you could call him that. You could still remember the blade, as cold as ice, pressed against your neck before you passed out, and you were suddenly very aware that you were alone with this stranger; a stranger with a habit of murder.

“Where am I?” You groaned, clutching your head as you found beside you a glass of water already by the table, gingerly picking it up and debating whether to drink from it. If he wanted you dead, he would’ve killed you by now, and the liquid was already being chugged, cooling and crisp down your throat.

“I’m surprised you didn’t even think twice before you stepped a foot inside these halls,” the dulcet voice sounded both bored and irritated by your mere presence. His silhouette moved like a black cat, sticking closely to the doorway. You heard his voice closer to you this time. “I can’t tell if you’re brave or a fool for coming here.”

It dawned on you finally and slowly that you were still inside Dracula’s castle—that the Vampire king himself owned it. It brought a shudder down your spine, but the curiosity in wanting to know why he was there.

“You don’t seem afraid to be here.” You questioned vigilantly.

“No, I would be if this had not been my home.” The figure finally emerged from the shadows, and you almost squinted at his appearance. The first thing you noticed was his wavy long pale blond hair, reaching past his waist, skin pale as moonglow. It was his eyes that were the most beautiful and eerie: golden as honey or the same colour of leaves that fell in the autumntime.

There was something unnatural about him: not exactly human that you could place, a sombreness that hung over him. You did not know what he had seen in his lifetime, but you could see it in his eyes.   

The handsome stranger was dressed in black leather trousers and boots, a simple shirt that showed some of his chest, and a long drawn scar was visible, grotesquely large and haunting.

It was only when you saw what was floating beside him, a long, thin sword, glinting brightly with silver and ornate beauty as it stood vigilantly by his side.

He seemed to notice quickly your eyes darting between him and the weapon beside him. “Will you put that thing away?”

He did not answer you but the sword pulled back from him to stand by the door as he inched closer towards you, watching you with suspicion. “Who are you?”

The stark contrast of his words was not as soft as they had been before, and with the sword standing in the background, you chose to answer him honestly rather than risk being another body staked outside. “My name is Y/N. I come from a village not far from here—”

“You do not speak the truth.” He snarls, and something glints as he opens his mouth wide enough, but is gone within seconds. The blond’s nose scrunches in almost disgust as if the most revolting stench fell over him “It reeks of sorcery,” there’s something feral in his demeanour and the way the sword flickers to move closer to his side, “witch.”

“Yes, I am a witch,” you reply honestly, eyes darting between the sword and him again, your life dangling on the edge. “Please, I don’t have anywhere else to go—I wouldn’t be here for long if you—”

“I do not have anything for you. Leave at once.” He interrupted tersely, circling you, posture tense as if he was either ready to lunge at you or flee. “I do not welcome strangers.”

No, if the bodies were not a warning already. You gulped. “I have no choice but to leave there. I had to for—” Your words stilled on your tongue, nervously tracing your fingers along your wrist in feeble comfort. “I cannot go back there. They… I fled for my life.”

The blond man doesn’t speak for a moment, instead, he watches in hawkish contemplation, studying you, examining if you are telling the truth. It felt as if you could be set on fire by his gaze alone, and finally, he looked away, eyes taking to the hearth.

“Very well,” he says after some time, “you have one month to stay here. One month, and then you can find your way somewhere new.”

Your heart leapt from your chest, ready to almost jump into his arms with gratitude. You watch as he turns, before saying over his shoulder. “There is a bathroom on the second floor, the last room to the left. You stink.”

There is no time to speak your thanks to him, as he’s gone in a hurry, away from the room you occupy. You don’t go looking for him, following up the winding hallways as you follow his instructions, finding the room after looking for some time.

The bathroom is as splendid as the rest of Dracula’s castle: all marble and gleaming white stones and a bath! You take your time to make sure you’re alone, before finding the way to get water through. It’s utterly incredible to witness true science, how hot water comes through without ever needing to gather it from a source. You laugh to yourself, believing how undeniably insane you look in front of his man, and how you too, would be wary of your presence.

It was obvious by your state when you looked in the mirror: your hair was tangled and difficult to even run your fingers through, with the odd chicken feather poking out. Your skin was riddled in mud and bruises covered your thighs and arms. Your cheek is still sore from when Bogdan smacked you, though it is not as red when you see splatters of red across your clothing.

My God, I look mad. You pluck the feathers as you try detangling your hair with your fingers, before stripping off your clothes as the water grows to a level that is good enough for you to get in. The water almost stings from how hot it is, your skin grows pinkish from the heat as you sigh in relief, submerging your body as the water grows clear to a greyish-brown hue.

Grimacing, you occupy yourself with the shelf of many bottles by your side, picking out shampoos and conditioners as you begin the long process of washing your hair. Your curls hid many secrets, as well as the knots that take forever to untangle until they’re smooth and soft to the touch. You dip your head to lean the suds, scrubbing your entire body with the bar of soap until it's red raw.

Not wishing to get out, the water grows cooler, and you grab a towel for your body and head, wrapping your hair up securely as you gather your dirty clothes. You debate on putting them back on or awkwardly trying to find the man of the castle, opening the door to feel something wedged in front.

You inspect the neatly folded clothes, a dress as seaweed green and looking a decade or two out of fashion, a clean chemise and stockings. You dress quickly in the bathroom, finding the kirtle fits you nicely, and you can feel that the material is good quality – as if it’s not been worn before.

Questions dance in your mind – why does he have dresses? Did they belong to a previous wife?

You kept them to the back of your mind as you let your hair air dry, keeping everything as neat as possible as you wandered back to where you could hope of finding the oddly handsome man.

You checked rooms on the second and ground floor: to no avail, was he around, until you found the kitchen on the ground floor, empty, except for the beautiful smells that wafted through the room. You didn’t realise how hungry you had been, not when the food smelt as amazing as it looked.

“You found the kitchen fine then.” A voice interrupted you.

You turned to find the culprit, the blond man was carrying a basket of apples, passing you as he placed them in the middle of the table. The apples were so large they didn’t look real!

He noticed you staring, looking at you for a moment up and down. “The dress you found I see?”

“Yes,” you gathered the material, feeling its softness, “it is very beautiful. Was it your wife’s?”

You see it for yourself, his pale cheeks erupt into a brightness you’ve never seen before, and he averts his gaze from you. “No, the dress is actually my mother’s.”

“Oh.” You say, awkwardness filling the room as he continues sorting out a meal. “Is fish okay for you?” He asks to break the ice.

You nod, watching as he preps two plates, filled with vegetables you’ve never seen before, as bright as anything that could be harvested. The two of you gather your plates as you go to sit at the table, and you fill your stomach with food before it reaches your eyes. The food is rich in flavour and you almost cry from having something so filling in your life.

Neither of you speak as you eat, and though you wish to keep asking him questions, he is quick to speak. “My name is Alucard.”

You choke almost on your fish, staring wide-eyed at him. “Like The Alucard? The one who defeated Dracula?”

“I do rather not like being used that title, but yes, I defeated Vlad Dracula… my father.”

It suddenly dawns on you: his pale skin and unnatural eye colour, how he moves on a whim and as fast as the wind. There was an ethereal beauty to him that you could not place at first, and you were now certain you weren’t losing your mind when you thought you saw fangs in his mouth.

“Oh.” That is all you can say, and Alucard is quick to scrunch his eyebrows at you incredulously, with a look that reads ‘Oh? Is that all you can say?’

“I’m sorry for your loss.” You finally manage to say, and you think you’ve said the wrong thing, but the look that flashes across Alucard’s face is one that you think he’s not felt before.

“No one has ever said that to me, that they were sorry,” his words are soft, tired from a life of grief. You can understand him, yet you wish for him to warm up to you. You notice his sword is still in the room, floating in the corner like a sleeping soldier, idly waiting for orders to strike. “It feels quite relieving.” It takes you a moment to realise that he’s trying to joke from the solemness of his tone.

The tension is still there, and quickly you notice that his softness is replaced by the cold exterior once again, as he stands from his spot, cleaning the dishes. “If you’re to be staying here as a temporary guest, you should find the bedroom on the first floor to the right is free to use.”

Watching him pass from the room and disappear is enough to make your heart sink, from the loneliness of the castle, and from the pain of having to share it with a living,  broken ghost.

[alwaysmoncheri]

𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — JAMES POTTER!

pairings ❧ james potter x reader

summary ❧ no one makes james potter feel the way that his girlfriend does and he definitely knows it

warnings ❧ female!reader, cheesy writing, lots of fluff, sunshine!reader, james is whipped for the reader, based on my girl, by the temptations, implications of wolfstar, pda, not proofread

word count ❧ 1.1k

additional notes ❧ my first james fic sort of blew up and i was feeling inspired to write another—thank you for all your support | i also have a longer version for this so let me know if you’re interested ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა

You’re James’ sunshine, you’re his bundle of light and happiness on a cloudy day, and you’re all of his favorite things mixed into one beautiful girl. To James, nothing can ever compare to the way you make him feel. Every time you look in his direction with those captivating eyes that always sparkle with love—love that you constantly spread across the school like it’s your only goal in life—to make people feel loved, special, wanted—unlike so many—your contagious smile that makes him feel all giddy and causes his stomach to flutter with excitement.

Everything you do, everything you are, makes James feel like one of those special recipients of all the love you have stored in your overflowing heart. James feels like the luckiest guy in the world to have the privilege of holding you in his arms during the cold winter nights spent in his dormitory, the early spring mornings strolling through the flower meadow the two of you found in the outskirts of Hogwarts, the hot summer days spent in the backyard of the Potter residence, and the cool autumn evenings feeling the cool breeze blowing the fallen leaves past your feet.

Even now, you stroll through the doors to the common room and look so effortlessly breathtaking. The elegance you seem to carry with you to every room you enter makes James’ heart race because you’re his girl and no one else can take you away from him.

Yours and James’ friends always know when you’ve entered a room, not just because your presence is enough alone, but because James always seems to have an absolutely stunned expression dancing across his face, almost as if his heart has stopped beating—this time it leads the group to tease the love sick boy.

“What’s got you all smiles, Prongs?” Sirius asks curiously and with a teasing smile he playfully nudges his best friend’s shoulder, earning no reaction from James—who seems to be mesmerized, by your presence, “Is it that girl of yours, again?”

“Is that even a question?” Lily scoffs lightly and with a dramatic roll of her eyes she gazes past the small crowd of people also entering the common room in an attempt to spot your radiant figure, “Of course it’s (Y/n).”

“Let’s ask the lover boy,” Marlene suggests with a sly grin and points the book she's currently reading towards James, before calling over to him teasingly while tilting her head to one side, “Oh, lover boy?”

“Yeah?” James responds without tearing his gaze away from you and when your eyes finally meet he can’t help but let out a captivated sigh, his eyes screaming his absolute admiration for you.

“See, here she comes now," Lily smirks, gesturing in the direction of you, as you continue to make your way towards the group, who are casually sitting in their respective spots around the room—Lily and Mary are sitting together on the couch closest to the blazing, however warm fire, Remus and Marlene are reading on the couch across from them, Sirius is comfortably situated on the floor between Remus’ legs, and finally James is sprawled out on a lounge chair angled directly towards his lovely girlfriend—you. 

“Good morning, everyone.” You greet your friends with a loving smile, plop yourself down on James’ lap, and finally turn your long-craved attention toward your favorite boy, “Hey, Jamie.” You add sweetly and swiftly lean over to plant your soft, addicting lips upon his flushed cheek.

“Good morning, love.” James replies, adjusting his hands on your hips in order to pull your back flush against his chest—something you shamelessly lean into. As James wraps one of his arms around your waist and nervously fidgets with the hem of your shirt, you wrap your own arms around his shoulders, place your hands at the nape of his neck, and begin to twirl the ends of his curls (that need a trim, you notice) around your fingers—something you know he’s obsessed with.

You then glance around the room at your friends as they engage in each of their preferred activities on this peaceful and quiet evening. Your face transforms into a content smile, reminiscing on what your life might be like when you and your friends all leave Hogwarts. A day where all of your friends come over to the Potter resistance—you and James’ house, and spend the day around the fire, warm cups of tea within reach, silent communication being shared between you and James before the two of you sneak away and up the perfect wooden stairs to your bedroom, where laughter and secrets are shared under the sheets.

“Prongsy here hasn’t stopped smiling since you walked through that door.” Sirius smiles causally, leaning further back against Remus’ legs as the sandy-brown-haired boy nervously shifts in his chair and swiftly runs the hand that isn’t holding his book through his hair. Sirius’ comment is directed towards you, and you finally snap back into reality when you notice that knowing smirk plastered across Sirius’ face.

James lets out a dramatic groan while throwing his head back against the chair that the two of you continue to sit in. Your boyfriend’s reaction to Sirius’ constant teasing causes a quiet giggle to fall from your lips. The sound of your contagious laugh makes James’ stomach swoon with love and his face visibly lights up after lifting his head back up off of the chair. James can’t help but stare at you even when you’re sitting right in his arms. You look so sweet, radiating with love and warmth. At this moment, James can only imagine what those lips of yours might taste like. And that’s when he kisses you.

James can’t control himself and for valid reasons. You taste just the same as you always do—like honey, sweet as can be. It would be impossible for the bees not to be jealous of him. James could never get tired of kissing your lips and he’s not ashamed of it. If he’s going to spend the rest of his life with you then he’s always going to express his everlasting amount of love and affection for you.

The kiss catches you off guard, not expecting such passion and aggression in front of your friends, but you instinctively kiss James back. Your hands tangle through James’ hair while his grip on your hips and the waist tighten ever-so-slightly. This earns him a surprised squeak from you, and causes a boyish grin to form on James’ face as he kisses you.

“Get a room!” Sirius shouts jokingly from his spot on the floor which causes you and James to pull away with love sick grins consuming your expressions.

“You’re my girl.” James whispers into your ear and affectionately bumps his nose into the apple of your cheek, tickling your sensitive skin. A soft giggle bubbles into the air when James begins to pepper kisses all over your face.

“And I’ll always be your girl.”

masterlist . my taglist

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[pucksandpower]

hiii! with the chaos that was today’s career, could I request one with driver reader that she started telling her team that she wasn’t feeling good but still wanted to continue but the next moment she isn’t answering her radio because she fainted in the car and the car goes out, the marshals take her out of the car and she doesn’t wake up, maybe she has extreme dehydration and is hot to touch, etc.

How the other drivers react when they found out, her team, etc.

Thank you

Too Hot To Handle

Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: the Qatar Grand Prix pushed every driver to the limit … and some past the limit

Warnings: heat stroke, dehydration, crash, medical conditions

The Lusail International Circuit hums with electric anticipation, its asphalt ribbon shimmering under the floodlights. The roar of the crowd fills the night but the oppressive heat weighs on everyone, creating a contrasting atmosphere of excitement and cautious apprehension.

Standing alongside your Red Bull Racing car, you wipe a bead of sweat from your brow. In only your first year with the reigning double champions, you already have a record that has quickly become the talk of the paddock. But for all the praise and whispers, there is one voice that stands out.

“Remember, liefje, it’s not just about speed tonight. Keep hydrated, alright?” Max’s voice is full of warmth and concern. His hand rests gently on your arm.

You flash him a confident smile even though you’re battling your nerves internally. “I’ve raced in heat before, Maxie. I won in Singapore. I’ll be fine.”

He pulls you into a quick embrace, the temperature doing little to dampen the spark between you. “It’s different here. This heat ... it’s like nothing I’ve ever raced in before.”

Pulling back, you raise an eyebrow teasingly. “You worried about me, Verstappen?”

He laughs but there’s a hint of steely seriousness in his blue eyes. “Always. Just ... promise me you’ll be careful out there. For both our sakes.”

You nod, touching your helmet to his. “Promise.”

The intercom in your ear crackles to life. “Drivers, to your cars!”

You both exchange a final glance. Racing is in your blood, it’s what brought you together, but it also keeps you apart, if only for the few hours you’re no longer partners in life but competitors on track.

Sliding into your car, you secure your helmet and gloves. The world outside becomes a bit muffled but your focus sharpens. The engine’s purr is a familiar comfort, but tonight, it’s edged with the unease Max’s words left behind.

Your race engineer, Hugh Bird, checks in over the radio, “Everything good, Y/N?”

You take a deep breath, “As good as it’ll ever be. Let’s light up this track.”

“Give them a show.”

Lights out and away we go.

***

The Qatar Grand Prix unfolds with its usual mix of intensity and skill, drivers navigating tight turns and overtaking with precision. But beneath the spectacle, a subtle tension mounts. The oppressive heat, the stark floodlights, and the weight of expectation — all of it seems to be building to something.

In the garage and on the pit wall, your team closely monitors the race and your performance. Hugh occasionally chimes in with updates, “You’re doing great, Y/N. Remember to hydrate whenever you need to.”

You nod even though he can’t see it, “Understood. The heat’s something else in here.”

A pause. Then, “Just keep stead. And Max told GP to tell me to tell you to remember what he said.”

A smile touches your lips, “I always do.”

***

The track is a blur as you push your car to its limits, feeling the adrenaline surge in tandem with the roar of the engines. It’s as if the heat has seeped into your very core, burning with intensity. Each lap feels slightly longer, every turn a tad sharper, as the humid air takes its toll.

“Y/N,” Hugh radioes through, sounding distant and slightly distorted by the pounding in your head, “you’re P2. Great pace. Remember to sip some water.”

A trickle of sweat runs down the side of your face, stinging your eye. Blinking rapidly, you reach for the button that activates your hydration system.

“Got it,” your voice sounds foreign even to your own ears. The water is lukewarm and tastes metallic, not as refreshing as you had hoped.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” he urges.

With every lap, the world outside your visor seems to grow brighter, the floodlights shimmering like mirages in a desert. The race has become a battle, not just against other drivers but against the environment and, increasingly, against yourself.

“You’re dropping pace. Is everything alright?” Hugh’s concerned voice crackles through.

A knot tightens in your stomach. “I don’t know. I ...” You trail off, the words catching in your throat as a wave of overwhelming dizziness hits.

You can hear the alarm in your engineer’s voice becoming more pronounced. “Y/N, talk to me. Do we need to pit?”

The heat wraps around you, constricting, making it difficult to breathe. Your hands, slick with sweat, struggle to grip the wheel even through your gloves. “Guys ... I don’t ... feel ...” The world spins and your words falters.

“Y/N? Y/N, talk to me!”

But before you can respond, before you can even finish your sentence, the world tilts and blurs into an incomprehensible whirlwind. The sweltering heat, the relentless pursuit of victory, and the weight of expectation converge into a maelstrom that engulfs you entirely.

Your hands, once deftly steering the RB19, now hang limply by your sides. The car veers off the track, careening towards the barriers. Panic rises in you but it’s too late. Your body refuses to act.

The deafening sound of metal against metal fills your ears, followed by the nauseating sensation of impact. The world outside your cockpit twists and spins, a kaleidoscope of colors and chaos. Then, abruptly, it all goes dark.

In the garage, your team watches in horror as the monitors show the violent crash. The radio falls silent, the connection severed. In that heartbeat, the world goes eerily quiet, punctuated only by the distant echoes of screeching tires and the blaring alarms.

Moments pass like hours and finally the static on the radio clears, replaced by your frantic race engineer, “—please respond. Y/N? Are you okay?”

But there’s no response. Your world remains shrouded in darkness as the circuit comes to a standstill, gripped by an eerie silence that drowns out even the most deafening of cheers.

The track is plunged into chaos. Red flags wave fervently, signaling danger. Marshals rush towards your wrecked car, their fluorescent jackets contrasting brightly against the night.

“Get her out! Get her out!” One of the marshals shouts as they reach your car. Your limp form is carefully extracted and they begin immediate first aid. The severity of the situation is clear — the heat, the dehydration, it’s all taken its toll.

The crowd watches, a collective gasp filling the air soon replaced by a thick, heavy silence. As your unconscious form is stretchered away, the weight of all those warnings crashes down.

Back on the pit wall, four words whispered into the radio are the first of many about to turn your boyfriend’s world upside down.

“Safety car, safety car.”

***

“Max, we’re pitting this lap. Box, box,” the calm, steady voice of Gianpiero Lambiase, Max’s race engineer, instructs over the radio.

Max’s voice is curt, his mind still on the race. “Why? Tires feel fine.”

“Non-negotiable. Safety car is out. We need you to pit now.”

The urgency in GP’s voice is not lost on Max and he immediately senses that something is wrong. “What happened? Why is there a safety car?”

Silence follows for a heartbeat too long. “There was an incident. Just focus on your race.”

An icy dread seeps into Max’s bones. The circuit is massive yet his world feels terribly small at this moment. “Who was it? Who crashed?”

His engineer hesitates, and in that pause, the weight of a thousand possibilities presses on Max.

“Who. Was. It?”

GP wavers, “It’s … Y/N.”

Max’s breathing becomes ragged. Panic and fear flood his system. “Why the hell wasn’t I told immediately?”

“It was team orders. The decision was made to keep you focused on the race.”

Max laughs but it lacks any humor. “Team orders? You’re saying Christian decided not to tell me that Y/N ... my Y/N is hurt?”

“Yes,” the reply is uncharacteristically soft, “It was believed to be in everyone’s best interest for you to be fully focused on the race.”

Max has never felt such white-hot rage. He spits into the radio, seething with fury and pain. “You tell Christian that if he ever makes a decision like that again about someone I love, I’ll cut his balls off with a rusty spoon.”

“Max, I understand you’re upset. But right now, we need you to stay focused.”

Stay focused? When the love of his life is in potential danger? The weight of what that means presses down, threatening to crush him. “I need to see her,” he finally rasps out, voice breaking.

The plea hangs in the air, met by another long silence. Finally, the radio clicks on again, softer than ever. “Y/N would want you to finish. You know that. Win this for her.”

Tears blur Max’s vision, mixing with the sweat already pooling in his helmet, but he nods, a silent assent. The roaring engine now sounds distant, the glinting lights a backdrop to the storm that rages within him. Every second is an eternity, every turn a test of his resolve to keep racing. But Max drives on, pushing his limits for you.

Every fiber of his being silently screams your name, a prayer or a promise or both, Max doesn’t know. All he knows is that the faster he crosses the finish line, the sooner he can be with you.

For the world watching, the race continues, cars whizzing by. But for Max Verstappen, each lap, each second, is a race against his own heart, torn between duty and desperate love.

***

“Her pulse is erratic! Get the defibrillator ready!” A medic shouts as the emergency team frantically works around you, the ambulance parked haphazardly nearby.

Another voice, calmer but filled with urgency, counters, “Wait, give her a moment. She might come around.”

“Come on, Y/N,” A young medic mutters, pressing an oxygen mask to your face. “Don’t do this.”

The ambulance door opens again, the head medic speaking into a radio, “We need an airlift, now. The situation’s deteriorating rapidly.”

Another voice, muffled, replies, “The helicopter’s on its way! Clear the area.”

As the medics continue to administer aid, working desperately to stabilize you, the chief medic tries to maintain order, “Every second counts. This heat stroke is severe, coupled with dehydration ... it’s a nightmare scenario.”

“We should have had more cooling stations,” the younger medic mutters. “The humidity coupled with the heat ... it’s brutal tonight. And we’re not even the ones out there driving.”

The older medic takes a deep breath. “That is on the organizations. We can’t fix there mistakes but we can focus on what happening now and do everything we can to get her through this.”

The thrum of helicopter blades soon overwhelms the noise of the circuit, growing louder as it approaches. Soon, the bright light from its landing spotlight punctuates the night. “The helicopter’s here!” Someone shouts.

“Alright, team, on three,” the chief medic commands. They work in perfect sync, lifting you carefully but quickly, your body still unresponsive.

As they approach the helicopter, the pilot shouts over the roar, “We’ve got the best onboard. She’s in good hands.”

“She’s one of our best,” the younger medic shouts back. “She has to be okay.”

The chief medic, securing you inside, murmurs more to himself than anyone else, “Come on, Y/N. The race isn’t over. Keep fighting.”

***

“You expect me to smile and stand on that podium knowing she’s been airlifted to a hospital?” Max’s voice trembles with rage as he confronts the FIA officials blocking his way.

“Mr. Verstappen, there are rules, procedures,” an official replies stiffly.

“Rules? Y/N might be fighting for her life right now and you want to talk to me about rules?” Max’s hands clench and unclench as he physically holds himself back from throwing a punch.

Another official steps forward, trying to mediate, “Max, we understand your feelings but millions of viewers are watching. The podium is an essential part of the race.”

Max’s eyes flash with anger. “You think I care about a trophy when my girlfriend is in a hospital? Do you really think that piece of metal means anything to me right now?”

“We sympathize— ” the first official begins but is cut off by Max’s heated response.

“You sympathize? Do you even know what that word means?” He’s on the verge of breaking, voice barely above a whisper as he continues, “She is everything to me. Everything. And you want me to smile and wave for the cameras?”

The air grows thick with tension. The two drivers from McLaren waiting for their cue to go to the podium are silent, their eyes darting between Max and the officials.

A new voice interjects , “Let him go.”

It’s Lewis Hamilton, who despite DNFing early in the race, made his way across the paddock after seeing the distress on his rival’s face. “There are things more important than a ceremony.”

The officials exchange glances, clearly not expecting this intervention. But before they can reply, Max levels them with a final scathing look. “Fine me if you must! Penalize me! Suspend me for all I care! But I am going to her.”

And off he goes.

***

A nurse at the desk recognizes Max immediately when he runs into the hospital. “Mr. Verstappen,” she begins hesitantly, “Miss Y/L/N is in the ICU. Room 302.”

He doesn’t need any further prompting to sprint down the hall. Reaching the room, he stops dead in his tracks. You’re there, surrounded by machines that beep and whirr, tubes running to and from you, an oxygen mask on your face. The sight of you, once so full of life, now frail and vulnerable, breaks him.

His voice, when he finally managed to finds it, is a choked whisper, “Y/N ...”

Approaching the bedside, Max gently takes your hand, feeling its clamminess. “Hey, liefje ... it’s me,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. His tears fall freely, wetting the back of your hand.

“Come on, love,” his voice cracks as he continues, “You’ve got to pull through this. For us.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, tracing the familiar curves and lines he’s come to adore. “Remember that time in Monaco? When we snuck out for that secret dinner that our trainers would have killed us for? We promised each other forever that night. You can’t leave me now. Not when we’ve got so many more memories left to make.”

The room’s silence is punctuated only by the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor in a cruel reminder of the fragility of the moment.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs. “Please ... please come back to me.”

Leaning in, he rests his forehead against yours, allowing the weight of his anguish, love, and hope to flow between the two of you in the sterile room.

***

Nothing has changed. The steady beep of the heart monitor still punctuates the silence of the hospital room. Max sits vigilantly at your bedside, his hand gently clasping yours.

It’s been three days since the crash and you still have not woken up. The doctors say your condition is stable but uncertain.

Max leans in close and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Morning, liefje. I’m still here. Not going anywhere.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch impossibly gentle as if you might break. In the stark hospital lighting, the dark circles under his eyes are visible. Sleep hasn’t come easy to him, not with you lying here.

A soft knock at the door draws Max’s attention. Hugh pokes his head in hesitantly. “Hey, Max. Any change?”

Max shakes his head, swallowing hard. “Nothing yet. But she’s fighting. I know she is.”

Your race engineer steps further into the room, his expression solemn. “I should have seen the signs earlier. Pushed her to hydrate more. Slowed her pace.” His voice catches, “It was my job to look out for her.”

“This wasn’t your fault,” Max says firmly. “Y/N is stubborn. We both know that. She wanted to prove herself.” A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “It’s what makes her brilliant.”

Hugh pulls up a chair on the opposite side of the bed. For a moment, the two men sit in pensive silence. Then your race engineer speaks again, softer this time. “Has she ... has she responded at all? Squeezed your hand or anything?”

Max clenches his jaw and stares past Hugh at the blank wall. “No. Nothing yet. But I know she can hear me. I tell her about training, the team ... I update her on everything. She’ll want to jump right back in when she wakes up.”

Footsteps approach and a nurse enters, checking the equipment and your vitals. After making some notes on a chart, she offers an encouraging smile. “No change but she seems stable. Just keep talking to her. Familiar voices help.”

After she departs, Hugh leans forward, clasping your still hand. “Hear that, Y/N? You’ve got to wake up. The team needs you. Your fans are all rooting for you. And ...” His voice cracks. “I need my driver back.”

Max looks at him gratefully. “We all need her back.” Reaching out, he gives your race engineer’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Another knock sounds. This time, it’s Christian. His face is etched with guilt and worry. “Max. Any improvement today?”

Max’s expression hardens. He hasn’t forgotten Christian’s decision to withhold news of your crash. But his voice remains even as he responds to the team principal. “Nothing new.”

Christian pulls up a chair next to Hugh. He chooses his next words carefully. “Max, I need to apologize. I made the wrong call that night. You deserved to know immediately about Y/N. My priorities were skewed.” His voice shakes slightly. “Seeing her like this ... I would give anything to go back and change what I did.”

Max studies him for a long moment and some of the hardness leaves his eyes. “I appreciate that. But right now, the past doesn’t matter. All that matters is her getting better.”

Christian nods. Reaching out, he gently smoothes your hair. “You hear that, Y/N? We’re all here for you. Your whole team. Now you need to come back to us.”

A heavy silence settles on the room once more. The three of them remain clustered around the bed … keeping vigil … willing you to show any small sign of recovery.

After some time passes, the ringing of Hugh’s phone snaps the three men out of their thoughts. “Sorry to interrupt,” your press officer’s voice filters through the speaker, “but the team’s on the line. They want to send their well wishes to Y/N.”

Hugh glances at Max questioningly who nods, “Patch them through. Let the whole team remind her why she needs to wake up.”

A smile tugs at your race engineer’s lips. “You got it. Go ahead, team. She can hear you.”

A chorus of voices floods the room. Your mechanics, pit crew, strategists, PR team … everyone chimes in with encouraging messages.

“Come on, Y/N! We need our star girl back on the grid.”

“You can do this, kid. You’re the toughest one out there!”

“We all believe in you. Keep fighting!”

Max grips your hand tighter, emotions threatening to spill over. Even Christian and Hugh have sheens of tears in their eyes.

“Alright,” your race engineer says after the team signs off. “You heard them. Time to wake up.”

And that’s when Max feels it. A short, weak squeeze of his hand.

Then your eyelids begin to flutter.

“Y/N?” Max leaps to his feet, leaning over you anxiously. “Can you hear me?”

Slowly, painfully, your eyes open, taking in the scene around you. Confusion clouds your expression. “M-Max?” You rasp.

A brilliant smile breaks across Max’s face. Relief floods through him so powerful that his knees nearly buckle as he chokes out, “Yes, yes it’s me! You’re back, liefje. You’re really back.”

Hugh lets out a shaky laugh, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Welcome back, superstar.”

You try to speak again but Max hushes you gently. “Save your strength. We’ve got all the time in the world to talk.”

Christian grins, looking years younger. “Oh thank god. I need to tell the team. They’ll be thrilled. Welcome back, Y/N.” He hurries from the room, phone already in hand.

Your race engineer squeezes your shoulder. “Get some rest. We’ll all be here when you wake up.”

As he and the nurse move discreetly out of the room, you gaze up at Max. “You ... you stayed.”

Max lifts your hand to his lips, blinking back tears. “Of course I stayed. I’ll always stay by your side.”

He leans down, pressing his lips against your chapped ones. All the fear, the uncertainty, the heartache of the past few days melts away.

You’re back. You’re really back. And Max knows, without a shred of doubt, that your lives from this day on will be greater and more meaningful than all your wildest dreams.

***

In the following days, drivers from across the grid make the pilgrimage to your hospital room. They come bearing gifts — flowers, balloons, even a nearly life-size plush race car. But more importantly, they come bearing a message.

“That race should never have happened,” Lewis says solemnly, handing you a get-well card covered in signatures. “The heat was dangerous. We should have acted sooner.”

Esteban grips your hand tightly. “I’m sorry, Y/N. We should have spoken up about the conditions sooner. We all suffered but you suffered most.”

“Your crash woke us all up,” Lance adds. “No trophy is worth risking drivers’ safety even more than we already do each race.”

You’re moved by their solidarity but sigh knowingly. “The FIA would never have listened to just one driver saying something. But maybe they’ll listen to all of us.”

Max’s jaw clenches, residual anger simmering beneath the surface. “They have to listen. We won’t race in unsafe conditions again.”

The other drivers nod, They know the power that you all wield together and for the first time in a long time, you are going to use it.

In a show of outspoken unity, the GPDA drafts a strongly worded letter condemning the lack of caution around extreme heat and demanding tangible changes to make sure drivers aren’t put in avoidable jeopardy.

All twenty of you threaten to strike.

To your surprise, the FIA not only apologizes for the oversight but pledges to implement the requested changes immediately.

“Your crash was a wake-up call,” the FIA president says solemnly during a visit to your hospital room. “We should have protected you better. That will never happen again.”

When he departs, you let out a long breath, leaning back against the pillows. The anger and hurt from that night haven’t disappeared entirely but you feel a sense of hope, that some good has come from the experience.

Max clasps your hand between both of his. “What you went through is unacceptable but you used that to make the sport safer for every driver out there. I’m so proud of you.”

You give him a tired smile. “We did this together. All of us.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest. When you’re better, we’ve got plenty more checkered flags to take. Side by side.”

The long road to full recovery still lies ahead. But with Max by your side, and all the drivers behind you, you know everything will be okay.

The race goes on but it will be a safer race thanks to you.

[yunopouts]

trick or treat - j. jaehyun

→ jeong jaehyun x neighbour! reader

-> dilf! jaehyun au

→ CW: dom! jaehyun, breeding kink (jae's horny, i'm horny, everyone if fucking horny), age gap (reader is in mid-20’s and jae is a divorced 29yo Jae), unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, handjob, oral (f receiving), praising, pussy slapping, biting, spit kink, oral fixation (jae), there are some cringey lines (i'm sorry but i wanted to have them in there but i didn't know how else to phrase them T-T), jae's thick in this one guys :D

-> a/n: omg haii ^-^ okay so this one isn't necessarily halloween related but his kid in the fic is going trick or treating so it counts!!! Jae is DOWN BAD in this one y'all. also just an fyi, this one has a lot more dialogue since they have more of a relationship and it's not just mindless sex this time?? but there still is quite a lot of sex??? okok enjoyyyyyy

-> wc: 6k

-> upcoming: switch! yuta (playboy yuta :) will explain more on that later) psst! requests are open!!

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jaehyun’s face dropped as he read the email he had just been sent. Cursing under his breath, the man pushed away from his desk and poked his head out the door. 

“Hayoung,” he said. The woman at the desk looked up at him and from the look on her face, she knew what he was going to ask.

“Sir, I’m so sorry…” and she truly did sound sincere. “Gongmyung had no other times available to meet. He’s leaving for London tomorrow morning.” 

Jaehyun pursed his lips as he nodded. He felt awful that he couldn't take Subin out tonight, but he had one idea that could make his daughter feel better. 

The man checked the watch on his wrist, reading the time as 5:30pm. If he left now, Jaehyun could be at Subin’s school for 6:15pm to pick her up from daycare, talk to her, and bring her home for 6:45pm before he had leave the house by 7:30 to be back at the office for 8:00 pm to meet the clients for dinner. 

 “Alright, I have to leave now, but I’ll be back in time for the meeting.” Hayoung looked as if she was going to object, but instead she just nodded her head. Jaehyun grabbed his jacket from his office before pulling his phone out from his pocket. As he walked to the elevator, he scrolled through his contacts, searching for your name. 

As Jaehyun stood, waiting for the elevator, his heart raced with both the urgency of the situation and the lingering nervousness he got when you spoke. His thumb hovered over the call button when he hesitated. He took a deep breath and leaned against the glass railing behind him, feeling a pang of worry gnaw at him. Would he be imposing on you once again?

The elevators hummed softly as they stopped at different floors of the building while Jaehyun debated with himself, the prospect of the impending meeting weighing heavily on his shoulders. He decided to call you, but not just for Subin’s sake, for his too.

“Hello?” Your voice on the other end had a certain warmth, and it sent a shiver down Jaehyun’s spine.

“Hey,” Jaehyun let out a sigh at the sound of your soft voice. His voice tinged with the tension that had been building in the pit of his stomach ever since he received that email.

“What’s wrong? You sound stressed.”  You grew concerned when you realised how his voice was quieter than usual.

“It’s just work stuff…” Jaehyun’s shoulders slumped. “I really hate to ask you this,” And he really did. “I was wondering if you could watch Subin tonight? I know it’s Halloween, and it’s super last minute, but I was just scheduled for a meeting, and you’re the only one she’d want to go with.” the disparity in his voice ran deep, but you didn’t have any plans anyways, so why not?

“Of course, Jae.” You said, and the man sighed with relief. “What did she dress up as for school?” The calmness in your voice soothed Jaehyun’s nerves. The elevator sounded as it arrived. After the doors opened, Jaehyun entered and leaned against the wall as he felt a strange mix of emotions. 

“She decided she was going to be Elsa and when we went trick or treating, she wanted me to be Anna.” There was a moment of silence, but Jaehyun already knew what was about to happen. As the man closed his eyes momentarily, you burst out laughing on the other line.

“You were really going to dress up as Anna for her?” you asked, your voice was laced with amusement that made Jaehyun chuckle. 

“It was either that or Quasimodo from the Hunchback of Notre Dame.” A hand ran over Jaehyun’s face in embarrassment, remembering the conversation he had with his seven year old daughter last month when they were discussing costume ideas. 

“What, did she want to be Esmerelda?” you asked with a scoff.

“No, she wanted to be Laverne.” Jaehyun groaned, wondering from whom his daughter gets her ideas from.

“The gargoyle?” you cried. You held the phone away from your ear as you laughed loudly, clutching your stomach. 

“Yeah,” the man replied, looking at his shoes with a smile, the sound of your laughter resonating with him. “How much do you want me to pay you?” he asked as he walked out the elevator and to the entryway of the building. He waved to the secretaries and to those who greeted him with a smile.

You tried to reason with him, arguing that you didn’t need the extra compensation, but Jaehyun’s insistence on repaying your kindness only heightened the nagging tensions between the two of you.

“Jae, you really don’t have to, you know I’d do anything for you guys.” Your voice was gentle, “You know I feel bad asking you to watch her without paying you.” Jaehyun’s voice dropped lower, carrying an undertone of a deeper emotion with it. 

As he exited the building, silently thanking the valet driver for his keys.

“But I’m telling you that you don’t have to.”

Your attempt to reason with him was met with Jaehyun’s unwavering determination. “We’ll talk about it later.”

With no room for further discussion, you conceded, “I’ll see you at seven, then.”

“I’ll see you then.” Jaehyun confirmed, the tension settled down thickly in the air.

“Bye, Jae.” You said softly. 

“Bye, y/n.” Jaehyun replied, the sudden strain in his voice giving way to a sense of longing as he entered his car.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, Jaehyun gripped the steering wheel and looked down, feeling a slight strain in his pants. “Jesus fucking Christ…” the man muttered. “What am I, twelve?” his head fell back against the headrest in frustration. 

Jaehyun rolled down the window before he began to drive, in hopes that the cold breeze would clear his mind of the thought of you, and focus on what was more important: trying to find a way to tell Subin that he can’t take her trick or treating. 

-

By the time Jaehyun had parked in the school parking lot, he had nothing. He still didn’t know how to tell his daughter the news. Taking a deep breath, Jaehyun pushed open the car door and got out of the vehicle before locking it and heading to the waiting area. 

Minutes later, the bell rang and children of all ages flooded out the doors. Jaehyun stood amidst the sea of children pouring out of the school, his eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar little girl in an Elsa costume. He spotted her soon enough, her blonde wig glistening in the autumn sun, and a smile spread across his face. Subin was chatting excitedly with her friends, and he knew he had to break the news gently. 

He approached her, kneeling down to her eye level. “Hey, princess,” he greeted her with a warm smile. 

Subin’s face lit up at the sight of her father. “Daddy!” she squeaked and launched herself into his arms. Jaehyun laughed as he almost stumbled onto the floor, but his arms wrapped around his daughter tightly. 

“Come on, let’s get you to the car.” Jaehyun stood up carefully with his daughter still in his arms. As he walked, Jaehyun sucked in a deep breath before he told his daughter the bad news. “Subin, about tonight…”

The girl looked up at him with curious eyes. “What is it, Daddy?”

Jaehyun cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. “Well, I know how much you were looking forward to trick or treating tonight, and I was really excited too, but something came up at word.” He paused, gauging her reaction.

Subin’s smile faded, and her brows furrowed. “Do you have a meeting tonight, Daddy?”

Jaehyun’s heart felt like it was breaking off piece by piece. “I’m so sorry sweetheart, I tried to reschedule it for later, I really did, but it didn’t work out.” Jaehyun frowned, but his daughter smiled. 

“It’s okay, Daddy. Do you think you’ll be back to watch HalloweenTown with me?”

“I’ll do my best, okay? I promise I’ll make it up to you sweetheart.” Jaehyun promises. “Until I come back home, I asked the lady from the floor below us to watch you, you remember her, right?”

“The pretty lady you invite over every weekend? I remember her.” Subin nodded, unaware of how red her fathers ears had turned.

“She doesn’t come over every weekend.” Jaehyun mumbled, looking away from his daughter as they arrived in front of the car. 

“She does… Dohwa even asked me if she was my mom.”

“Oh…” he replied simply. Jaehyun stayed silent as he sat his daughter in the booster seat behind the passenger’s side, the thought almost consuming him. 

Dohwa asked if she was her mom…

After he clicked her seatbelt in, Jaehyun shut the door and headed for the driver’s seat, still entirely thinking of you… as a mother…

The man paused right as he was about to open the door when he felt the same stiffness from earlier, and he had to stop himself from screaming curses at the sky. Jaehyun closed his eyes and swallowed harshly before he opened his eyes and entered the car like nothing had happened to him.

“Daddy, can we listen…”

“Of course,” Jaehyun gave his daughter a smile through the rearview mirror. He knew exactly what the kid was asking for, and with a few presses of some buttons, the intro of the infamous ‘Let it Go’ from the Frozen soundtrack was blasting from the speakers, and Subin was belting out the words.

The rest of the ride was filled with more Frozen, which consisted of duets, the respective solo’s of both Jaehyun and Subin, and the booing of Hans whenever he sang in Love is an Open Door. 

Jaehyun had arrived at the condo building at 6:45pm, “Right on schedule,” he said to himself as he walked to the other side of the car to help his daughter out of the car. “Come on, sweetie,” he said, lifting her into his arms. With how adorable she was in her Elsa costume, he was determined to make it up to her for the missed trick or treating.

After a quick elevator ride, they reached his penthouse. The elegant, modern space was impeccably decorated, a reflection of Jaehyun’s refined taste. 

“What d’ya want to eat before the pretty lady gets here, Miss Elsa?” Jaehyun asks Subin, who was already halfway to the kitchen. He followed behind her and held the door open for her as she entered. “Goldfish…” she said hungrily, causing a laugh to escape from Jaehyun’s lips.

“Goldfish it is, then.” The man took a bowl from one of the cabinet’s before he scanned his pantry for the snack that was requested. While Jaehyun looked, he heard Subin squeal with excitement. A mix of confusion and concern churned through Jaehyun, so he tried to be quick with his search and found them on the top shelf. 

“Subin, I found them…” Jaehyun stopped in his tracks when his eyes found yours.

“Hey Jae,” you smiled, your insides twisting at his current state. He’d come from the office, you knew that already, but seeing him in that suit definitely messed with you a bit.

“Hey,” Jaehyun couldn’t help the way his heart raced at the mere sight of you. You were holding a neatly folded Anna costume in your arms, and the smile you gave him made his heart skip a beat. “You’re early.” he said. Although he looked quite distracted, Jaehyun still managed to pour Subin her goldfish and hand the bowl to her.

“Yeah, I just thought I’d come by a little early to see if Subin needed help with her costume.” Your innocence warmed Jaehyun and forced a smile onto his lips.

“That’s really thoughtful, thank you.’

“Don’t even mention it.” you said.

“Pretty lady, are you going to put your costume on now?” Subin interjected while she munched on the small crackers. 

Jaehyun shuddered lightly, realising his daughter had just watched that whole interaction, even though she probably didn’t register what was going on. 

At least that’s what you both hoped.

“Oh! Yes, yes, I will go do that. So, give me a few minutes, yeah?” you winked at her which earned you a big grin from the little girl.

“You can change in the guest bathroom.” Jaehyun blurts. “I’ll show you where it is.”

“Yeah, yeah, sounds good.”

Jaehyun walked out first, but it didn’t take long for you to catch up to him. You walked silently up the stairs and down the hall until you reached the room. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” he said.

You thank him before you enter the bathroom, one you’ve definitely seen before. You set the costume down on the counter and begin to undress. Everything was going well until it came down to actually doing up the back of the dress.

“Jaehyun?” you raised your voice ever so slightly, just to check if he was still there, and in a heartbeat there was a soft knock on the door. 

“You called?” His voice was a bit muffled from being on the other side of the door, but you opened the door, finding him leaning against the door frame. 

“Could you help me with this?” you asked with a hand across your chest to keep your dress from falling. 

Jaehyun looked away from your eyes, suddenly feeling very warm in the face and ears. “Yeah, could I come in?”

You moved so he had room to enter, and you shut the door almost immediately after and locked the door. Your back was facing Jaehyun, but you were watching him through the mirror. You felt bold until his dark eyes met yours in the reflection, and since then, his gaze didn’t leave yours.His heart raced as he looked into your eyes, and his fingers trembled slightly as he began to tie the strings at the back of your dress. 

The tension in the air only grew stronger as his fingers brushed lightly against your skin, and your breath hitched. You couldn’t help but steal a glance over your shoulder, meeting Jaehyun’s gaze once again.

“Done…” he gulped, holding your stare. It was a moment where words were no longer necessary, and the attraction between you two was undeniable.

Jaehyun leaned in closer, his lips brushed against the nape of your neck. Your heart raced, and you tilted your head slightly, granting him access to your skin. His kisses were gentle, sending shivers down your spine, and his arms which had wrapped around your waist, had become your new form of support. 

As he continued to trail soft, lingering kisses along your neck, Jaehyun whispered, “You’re making it hard for me to focus on anything other than you.”

You turn around to face him, your lips dangerously close to his. “Maybe that’s the point,” you replied with a mischievous glint in your eyes. 

With a surge of longing, Jaehyun closed the small distance between your lips and his. The kiss was passionate and electric, and yet still so familiar from the previous ones you’ve shared from almost every weekend for the past three months.

One of Jaehyun’s hands cupped your cheek as the other snaked down to your waist, pulling you in closer. He felt the heat of your body merge with his, and his heart raced as he deepened the kiss. Your hands were tangled in his hair, and the taste of his lips sent a wave of euphoria through your body. 

Jaehyun pulled away, but only slightly. His forehead was still pressed against yours, and he whispered, "I could kiss you like this forever."

Your lips curled into a small smile and you replied, "I wouldn't mind it."

With that, Jaehyun kissed you again, and this time it was more desperate, more passionate. He moved his lips hungrily against yours, exploring and tasting your mouth. You let out a soft moan as his hands moved to your lower back, and your kiss became more passionate.

His hands moved to the small of your back, and he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, and you melted into his embrace. 

He carried you to the counter, and sat you down on the cold marble, and your arms tightly wrapped around him. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, and the intensity of the kiss was enough to make your head spin. You felt like you were in some kind of trance, and you welcomed it with all your heart.

With his hips in between your legs, you reached out your hand to palm his growing erection through his pants. Jaehyun pulled away from the kiss, letting his head fall back in pleasure.

“God, baby, I got hard twice today because of you.” You hummed in response, slowly undoing Jaehyun’s belt and freeing his cock from his boxers. Bringing your hand to your mouth, you spit into it before lubing up his dick with it.

You started to move your hand up and down, slowly stroking his shaft and Jaehyun let out a low moan. His eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily, his hips starting to move in time with your hand. 

Your hand closed over the tip, stroking it in circular motions before you moved your hand to jerk off the rest of his length. You increased the speed of your hand, Jaehyun's breathing getting heavier with each stroke. You could feel how hard he had gotten, and you smiled as you continued to pleasure him. Feeling your spit start to dry up, you started to use more of your hand, your fingers tracing circles around the head of his cock. Jaehyun's hands were gripping the material of your costume tightly, and you could feel his hips twitching with each of your strokes. 

You moved your hand faster, your thumb now rubbing circles around Jaehyun's most sensitive spot, and he let out a loud moan as he was about to cum, but before he could, a timer went off.

“Fucking christ,” You both sighed out of disappointment, and Jaehyun rested his forehead against yours.

"I have to go," he said, regretfully. He quickly fixed himself up and helped you off the counter.

“What if you’re still hard during your meeting, though?” You joke while your fingers toyed with his belt loops. 

He chuckled, and kissed you one last time before reluctantly pulling away.

“I’ll figure something out." You pouted, and he leaned in to give you one last peck on the lips before he grabbed his phone and unlocked the door. "I'll see you soon. I promise." He said before slipping out of the door. 

You sighed and smiled to yourself, savouring the moment. You felt more alive than ever.

Sliding off the counter, you turned and inspected your face to make sure you didn’t go back to Subin looking like a hot mess. 

“Pretty lady!” Subin yelled as you walked down the stairs. The young girl squealed as she ran to wait for you at the edge of the steps. She gushed at you once you had fully arrived in front of you. “You look so pretty!”

“Thank you sweetheart.” you said as you ruffled her hair. “Ready to go?” you asked her with a grin. Subin nodded frantically and grabbed your hand before she darted towards the elevator, her candy bag in the other hand waiting to be filled to the brim with treats.

“Trick or treating!” she cheered and jumped with excitement, and your heart warmed at the sight.

-

“Thank you so much for your time Gongmyung.” Jaehyun smiled as he shook the older man's hand. 

“Of course! The pitch was great, so our lawyers will be in contact with yours very shortly.” 

Jaehyun saw the man out of the smile and one final bow before he looked down at his watch. It was 9:30pm.

‘They should be home by now.’ Jaehyun thought as he got in his car and began to drive home. 

It only took him about twenty minutes to get home from the restaurant, and by the time he reached the penthouse, he found you sitting on the couch with his daughter sleeping peacefully next to you, her head resting on your thigh. 

“Hey,” you smiled up at him. Jaehyun mirrored your expression as he sat down next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

“When did she pass out?” Jaehyun’s fingers drew circles against your arm as you leaned into him. 

“About an hour ago? She already brushed her teeth, we were just watching The Nightmare Before Christmas.” Jaehyun looked at you, his brows scrunched closer together.

“Is that not a Christmas movie?” 

“Tsk… no one knows what it is or isn’t.” you said, jutting out your bottom lip before Jaehyun pecked your cheek. “I think I’m gonna put Subin to bed… show me to her room?” You slowly moved in a way that wouldn’t disturb the little girl too badly, and you brought her to your chest and rested her head on your shoulder. Both you and Jaehyun stood and you cautiously walked up the stairs and down the hall. 

Jaehyun opened the door, revealing a baby pink room with toys and stuffed animals astray. 

“This room is so…”

“Scary?”

“Her,” you shot Jaehyun a dirty look which made him laugh. “Not too loud, idiot.” you scolded him when you felt Subin stir at the loud noise. Cradling her head, you ordered Jaehyun to pull her bed covers back. Gently, you set the girl down before tucking her in. You stepped back to watch Jaehyun crouch beside her head and plant a light kiss on forehead. He sat there for a few seconds, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. With one last peck goodnight, he got up and smiled softly at you before he took your hand in his and led you out of the room.

With the lights off in Subin’s room and her door shut, the two of you stood in the hallway, staring into each other’s eyes. 

“Thank you, again, for watching her.” Jaehyun stepped closer to you. You noticed how his tone dropped, how his hands squeezed yours gently, and how his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips. 

“Like I’ve said, you don’t have to thank me… but you can show me your appreciation in a different way.” you teased and hooked your fingers around his belt loop like you did earlier.

Jaehyun smirked devilishly, leaning in to kiss your neck. His hands moved around your waist, dipping lower until he cupped your ass. 

As he trailed kisses along your neck, he paused to nibble and suck on your sensitive skin. His hands moved up your back, tugging your hips even closer to his. You felt your own arousal growing as his lips moved from your neck to your lips, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth. You moaned against his lips as your hands found their way into his hair, fingers curling around the strands of his hair. 

“We shouldn’t do this out here…” you said breathlessly, and Jaehyun groaned in agreement.

He pulled away and took your hand, leading you to the guest room. Your pulse was racing as he pushed open the door, and you both stepped inside. He pulled you close and kissed you deeply, while your hands moved to the back of his neck, tugging him in closer as your lips moved together in an urgent, passionate kiss. His hands travelled their way down your body, exploring your curves as you explored his. He trailed kisses down your neck, making you gasp as his teeth lightly grazed your skin. You groaned in pleasure as you felt his erection growing against your belly.

He grabbed your hair and pulled it back, his face hovering close to yours. "Tell me what you want," he growled.

You bit your lip and smiled, your desire rising with each passing second. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in to whisper in his ear, "I need you to fuck me."

He groaned and pulled you closer, his hands roaming your body. His lips brushed against your ear as he responded in a chuckle, “Waited all day for you to say that to me.”

In an instant, Jaehyun brought you towards the bed, a fire raging in his eyes. You were both eager to get undressed, and you started with his shirt. You reached to undo the buttons of his suit and slowly started undoing them, never breaking away from his embrace. Jaehyun’s breaths were heavy and rushed as you finally released his shirt and pulled it off his body. 

His hands moved to your shirt and he proceeded to do the same with you, slowly pulling your shirt off and tossing it aside. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, his lips finding yours again. His hands were frantic as they roamed your body, the intensity of his kiss growing with each passing moment.

He leaned back and pulled you with him, the two of you standing there in nothing but your underwear. His eyes were ablaze with desire and he stepped forward, pushing you back onto the bed. He leaned over you and slowly trailed his lips down your body, his hands massaging your curves as he made his way down.

He pulled back and looked into your eyes, his own filled with a primal hunger. With one hand, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, his lips finding yours again as the other hand found itself making its way down your navel, all the way to your pussy. His thumb took to your clit, drawing small circles on it.

The friction felt electric, you couldn’t help but shiver at his cold hands touching such sensitive parts. A soft moan escaped your lips as your hips involuntarily arched towards his touch. His thumb moved faster, increasing the intensity of the pleasure. You felt pleasure radiating through your body, slowly building to an unstoppable force. Your breathing became shallow, your heart raced, and all you could do was surrender to the sensations. His thumb began to move with more intensity, each circle growing wider and wider. His touch was gentle yet demanding, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins. The hand that had your wrists in a tight grip suddenly let go, but it moved to your hip and he grabbed firmly, steadying you as his thumb continued to bring you closer to the edge. 

You could feel his breath against your neck, his fingers digging into your hips as he moved them. Suddenly, he slapped you hard on your pussy and you gasped in surprise. The repeated action brought you close to tears. As your jaw hung open from a mix of surprise and pleasure, Jaehyun saw this as the perfect opportunity to do the thing you love. Hovering just slightly over your mouth, he let his saliva drop into your mouth, and he watched with a smirk as your jaw shut immediately, swallowing what he gave you. 

His tongue soon found its way into your mouth, and you tasted the bitterness of his spit as it mingled with yours. His hands moved with purpose, sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body. 

You could feel the anticipation building in your body, and you could barely contain the moans that escaped your lips. You were so close to the pinnacle of pleasure, and his touch was the only thing that could get you there.

“Fuck, Jae… oh fuck.” you said as a signal to him that you were cumming. If that didn’t tell him, then the way your body shook definitely did. 

Not long after you came, Jaehyun sat himself in between your legs. Both of his hands moved to your thighs, pushing them apart as he knelt in front of you. He looked up at you with pure adoration and started to kiss and lick your inner thighs. 

Jaehyun kept one arm around your hips while the other explored your pussy, fingering you slowly. You gasped and hissed in pleasure as he teased your sensitive areas. He moved his mouth to your pussy and started to lick and suck in a tantalising rhythm. His tongue moved in slow circles, alternating between soft and hard strokes. 

The arm he kept around your wait found itself lazily dragging from your waist, up to your breasts. His nimble fingers squeezed and teased your nipples, not helping the fact that you were trying to keep your voice down– even though you were several rooms down from his daughter.

The back of your hand moved to cover your mouth as you moaned, while the other grabbed his head, pushing him deeper into you. He bit down on your labia and licked the sensitive skin around your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Jaehyun moved his fingers inside you, pushing them in and out in a steady rhythm, his thumb finding the spot that sent sensations of pleasure through your body. 

He then began to massage your clit with his tongue, circling it slowly and then faster and faster until you felt your toes curl in anticipation. His hands moved down to your hips, holding you tightly as he increased the pressure and speed of his tongue. 

You felt your muscles tensing and your breathing becoming more rapid as you got closer to the edge. His fingers moved faster and faster, stimulating you in all the right places. You moaned and gasped as your orgasm finally overcame you, your body shaking in pleasure.

“Came so quick.” Jaehyun stated, slowly moving his mouth back up to yours and kissed you passionately, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands moved to your waist. 

He grabbed your hips and spread your legs wider, pushing his hard cock inside of you. He moved slowly at first, letting out a guttural moan as he entered you. 

He moved his hips in a circular motion, pushing himself deeper into you as he felt your tight walls stretching around his thickness. He felt as if he was being consumed by a blanket of pleasure, and he loved the feeling of being completely surrounded by you. With each movement, you could feel him stretching you out further, and the sensation made his body tremble with delight. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re doing so fucking well.” His breathing quickened as he felt the sensation of being fully engulfed inside of you, and the sensation of pleasure coursing through his body. He felt as if he were melting into you, becoming one with you as he moved faster and faster. 

He added a new layer of pleasure to his movements, as he sucked and licked on your nipples while he continued to thrust. His tongue felt like velvet on your skin, teasing and tantalising you with every movement. His hands moved to your back, caressing it with every thrust. 

You grasped his shoulders tightly as the sensations built up inside, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Finally, you threw your head back and let out a loud moan as you reached your climax, your pleasure washing over you. Jaehyun’s breathing became heavier, and you could feel his muscles tense up, his whole body shaking with pleasure.

“Fuck baby…” Jaehyun groaned, looking down at your pussy. “You’re so fucking full.” he bit his lip to stop himself from showing his smile, but it was useless– Jaehyun was grinning from ear to ear with pride. He watched as his cum dripped out of you, but with two fingers, he took whatever had leaked and shoved it back into you.

“Hey,” you said, grabbing his attention with his fingers still inside of you. “You gonna fuck me full of your cum, or what?”

Jaehyun almost lost it. Asking that of him was not the smartest idea, considering the fact that he’d do anything you told him to.

“Is this you asking to have my second kid? We’re not even together.” He joked as he sat himself with his back against his headboard. 

You knew what that meant.

Getting on your knees, you crawled on top of him and positioned yourself above his still very hard cock.

“I could do both…” you say without another thought.

“Oh baby,” he said, voice more seductive than you’ve heard before. “I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll get pregnant right away.” And with that, he thrust upwards, shoving his thick cock into you.

You exclaimed in surprise, eyes going wide, but your hands flew to his shoulder, stabilising yourself as he moved inside of you. He moved long and slow, his hips rolling against yours, and you felt your pleasure building with each thrust. He reached down and grabbed your ass, squeezing the soft flesh as began to pick up his pace. His breathing became ragged as he went deeper and deeper into you. 

His hands moved higher, gently caressing your breasts, his lips lightly sucking and licking them. His fingers moved lower, rubbing and teasing your clit, and his tongue licked and sucked your nipples.

“Fuck, just look at you, your fucking tits bouncing…” he mumbled, his mouth watering at the sight. “Gonna get you pregnant with my baby, and your tits are gonna be so fucking big.” Jaehyun moaned at the thought. You felt his tongue flick against your nipples, and you gasped in pleasure as he teased them with his mouth.

As he sucked on your nipples, Jaehyun started to pick up the pace, pushing himself in and out of you. His hips moved in a perfect rhythm, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure through your body. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your breath coming in ragged gasps. 

You could feel the heat building inside you as he continued to move. His hand moved down, rubbing against your clit as he moved, sending pleasure coursing through your veins. His thrusts were getting harder, and faster, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

Just then, he pulled out of you and flipped you over onto your back. He stared into your eyes, holding your gaze as he penetrated you again. “Fuck Jaehyun, I need your cum.” You whined. His thrusts were more forceful now, and you could feel yourself moaning louder and louder as he continued to move inside of you.

He then started to move one of his hands up and down your body, playing with your nipples and lightly caressing your breasts. His tongue lapped at them, and you felt your body tense up as he sucked on them. He moved the other hand down to your clit again, rubbing it in circles as he moved inside of you. 

“Need to get you so fucking full.” Jaehyun spoke aimlessly as he fucked your cunt, his thrusts growing harsher by the second. You hummed at his words, equally as brainless as he was from the stimulation. 

You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and Jaehyun increased his thrusts, pushing himself deeper inside of you. He grabbed your hips and held you tight, pushing himself deep inside of you. You screamed out in pleasure, your orgasm ripping through your body, and he followed shortly behind, his body shaking in pleasure.

His moans grew louder and his thrusts became more intense, the pleasure becoming too much for him to handle. He felt his orgasm build up inside of him, and as he reached the peak, he let out a cry of pure ecstasy. Jaehyun slowly pulled out of you before he laid beside you.

Turning to face him, you both lay there for a few moments, your breathing ragged and your hearts pounded in your chests.

“I meant what I said…” Jaehyun said, his thoughts now cleared from his prior state of mind. “About being together. The baby too, but that can come later.”

“I like that idea,” you hummed and pressed your lips to his.

[mermaidfanficlibrary]

If only I could hold you through a screen

Characters: Venti, Zhongli, Xiao, Ei, Yae Miko, Nahida, Wanderer, Furina, Neuvillette

Summary: Self Aware Archons and their companions react to you crying as you stare at them in the character screen, they try to comfort you but all they hear you say is "I wish you were here with me."

Warnings: Reader is crying, possessive behavior, immense anger, violent thoughts

A/U: Self aware genshin AU

A/n: IM BACK FROM THE DEAD GUYS!!! This is platonic on Nahida's end

VENTI

He was devastated as you gently sobbed, staring at his character in the character menu. He only wished to play you a song to ease the pain you were feeling. Who or what could make a God, no, the creator cry? He was more upset the more he thought of the possibilities of what made you break down.

“I-I…wish you…were with me.” 

As those words spilled out of your mouth, all choked out with sobs following each word, Venti could feel a tear roll down his face. Venti pulled out his lyre, doing one of his idle animations in hopes of cheering you up. On his side, he was playing you the most relaxing tune in all of Tevat! 

But it was blocked by the code. You could distantly hear it, however, if you listened close enough. You drift off as you focus on the secret melody, leaving Venti with a solemn smile. Seeing your peaceful sleeping face brought the Anemo Archon a sense of calm. 

As your screen dimmed due to inactivity, the more he wished to hug and comfort you. He couldn’t wish for anything more than to wipe your tears away and comfort you. He gently slowed the tune as your screen turned off. There was only one thought he had, and whispered out to comfort himself.

“One day, no tears will be shed when I’m with you, my dear god.”

ZHONGLI

He didn’t understand when you just started sobbing when you stared at him in the character menu. He started to panic the more you cried staring at him. Something in him broke the longer he heard you cry. He thought he had did something wrong to hurt you, but that suspicion was broken when you spoke through broken sobs. 

“I wish you were with me…”

That’s when his heart shattered. He started to mumble to himself, a mix of comforting words directed at you and words comforting himself. The more you focused on him, the more you could hear him speak outside his code. Out of anger, he did his idle with his little rock spinning around him. 

He wished it hit whoever, or whatever, had hurt you. Seeing you cry brought this strong protectiveness over you. Seeing you this fragile was new to him, and the fact that the creator could be sad slightly scared him. He wished for nothing more than to be there to comfort you.

Due to the exhaustion of crying, you started to fall asleep. The more your screened dimmed more and more as you dozed off to sleep, Zhongli could only imagine one thing in his mind. He mumbled it out loud, and you smiled as you could faintly hear it.

“I will protect you soon, there will be no need for you to feel any more tears roll down your pretty cheeks.”

XIAO

The fact that such a higher being such as yourself could cry surprised him. And him not being able to handle human like emotions didn’t help either. He only stared in disbelief and guilt as he couldn’t be there for you. He’s asked those around him what he should do when someone close to him cries, but never thought he needed to try the advice he was given with you. 

Your broken sobs did so much to his already aching heart. And hearing you scream into a nearby cushion made him even more angry. He wanted to purge whatever or whoever did this to you. You stared at his character, he was doing his mask idle due to his increasing anger and sadness watching you, which had only increased as you mumbled to him in broken sobs.  

“I w-wish y-you were h-here with me.”

His anger only increased, he tried so hard to keep his adeptal energy under control. Nothing could stop his racing mind and what could have happened to you out of playing the game. He wanted nothing more than to keep you safe. Seeing you in this much pain, straining to talk as you sobbed into a cushion, didn’t help his urges. 

He calmed down as he saw your sleeping face. You dozed off, and his eyes were stuck on your resting eyes. A wave of peace had cleared his angry head, his fists now relaxing. As your screen dimmed, his voice was faint and soft.

“Nothing will make you cry ever again when I’m around, I swear it.”

EI

Your tears fell as you stared at the Raiden Shogun, the puppet, in the character screen. Sensing your saddened presence, Ei had switched her consciousness to see what that matter was. Her eyes widened as you stared at her with a heavy breath and shaky eyes. She didn’t understand what had gotte you so upset. 

Seeing you cry hurt her so much as she stared at you through the puppet’s eyes. Ei wanted nothing more than your happiness to last for eternity. Her electro energy was becoming too much, while her consciousness possessed the puppet you had stared at. Her electro ball animation seemed a lot more aggressive than normal as she heard your screaming voice. 

“I wish you were here with me!”

She felt touched at first that you wanted her with you. She wanted you with her too for so long. But your scream made her anger even more prominent. She couldn’t bring herself to look away as you choked back sobs, your breath uneven. The more you calmed down, the more she started to relax. 

She saw your exhausted, tear stained face and felt her heart, outside the puppet, long for your embrace. She wanted nothing more than for you to be in her Plane of Euthymia, where no one would ever hurt you. Your soft breaths made her smile as your tears stopped. As the screen dimmed, her soothing voice spoke. 

“You will be safe with me soon enough, my dearest creator.”

YAE MIKO

She seemed confused at first as you were stuck on the character menu. But seeing your tears made her quickly understand what was going on. Someone had hurt you, and they needed to be dealt with. Your crying got louder and she couldn’t help her growing anger. 

Just as you stuttered out words, a bird had flown to her finger before her very angry fox spirit friend tried to bite it. She may have been smiling, but her anger was bubbling over. Hearing your weak and stuttering voice speak pulled her attention away from her angry fox spirit. She felt so honored to hear those words from you. 

“I-I w-wish y-you w-were w-with m-me.”

She had to hold herself back from electrifying everything right there in the menu. She was so focused on who had done this to you, she had started to plot. She wanted to humiliate and hurt those that had disgraced you. No one should be treating a deity of your caliber with such disrespect. 

Yae Miko smirked as she saw you shrink and fall asleep on the place you were sitting. The more the screen dimmed, the more her eyes glowed with mischievous intent. She hummed to herself as she plotted the demise of those that made you cry. Her voice was smooth as she hummed her words through her teeth. 

“My my, your protection will soon come from the familiar of the Electro Archon my dear god, so please have patience with me~.”

NAHIDA

Nahida wanted to understand why you felt so sad. She was only a baby Archon after all, she looked to you for guidance on human emotions seeing as you had similar ones. But your crying to her had worried her, as she was ill-equipped to help. Nothing in her mind mattered, only you smiling down on her and giving her your happy aura.

She thought of so many ways to try to cheer you up. She did her string to people idle, trying her best to remind you that she is your friend and is there for you. She did what she could, trying to show you how much you were cared for. Her heart broke as she realized her efforts weren’t working. 

“I wish you were here with me.”

She smiled up at you, noticing how the tears stained your face. She was so grateful that a deity like you wanted her, even if she was an inexperienced Archon. She had worshiped you greatly, and only wished to see you smile. Her mind wasn’t on those that had hurt you, but on you feeling better at the moment. 

Seeing you fall asleep brought a smile to her face. You being asleep brought her hope that she could finally meet you in your dreams and bring you comfort. She looked at your now relaxed face, your screen dimming. Once you had fallen into a calm slumber, her voice spoke in hopes to bring you reassurance in your sleep. 

“I promise to protect you in your dreams, so no more tears, oh wise one!”

WANDERER

You were staring at him in the character menu, as tears rolled down your face. It scared him, thoughts of worry and panic, thinking he had done something to displease you. But the more you just stared at him, the more he could tell that it was something else that bothered you. Anger replaced the panic as you started to sob.

He never understood how human emotions worked, and a deity like you having those emotions were new to him. The more your soft sobs caught his ears, the more uncomfortable he felt. He started summoning his anemo ball, doing the start of his idle, but the anemo ball kept getting bigger the longer he held it. The anemo energy then dissipated as he was surprised by your mumbling. 

“I wish you…were…here with me…””

He was caught so off guard when you said that. He felt like it wasn’t fair for you to say that out of nowhere, especially when you were this sad. He thought you were joking, you wanting a puppet like him to be with you to help bring you comfort. He looked into your eyes and saw the exhaustion in them. 

Seeing you fall asleep in front of him was like a gift. He knew it would help you feel better, but something in him wanted to cuddle you while you drifted off. Anger gripped him once more, how could anyone make you cry was the only thought in his head. Subconsciously, he spoke, hoping you heard him.

“Those lousy vermin don’t deserve you. They will know their place once I’m with you.”

FURINA

Furina never understood how to handle someone crying, especially since she was one to bottle up her emotions and hide them away from others. But seeing you like this made her softly smile, it meant you trusted her to be emotional and raw. The next emotion that came barreling in was anger. Anger at those that had made you so sad. 

Her mind raced as she tried to think of a way to cheer you up from the other side. She started holding her water seahorse as she was doing her idle, trying to cheer you up. Her face was left with a shocked expression as she held her water seahorse closer, not ready for you to mumble out to her. 

“I wish you were here…with me.”

Those words made her eyes flutter to yours. You wanted her, no one else, her to be with you as you cried. Her ego and stature wad boosted as she straightened her posture. She wanted to reach a hand out to your cheek to stroke your tears away. 

Her sense of justice was strong, and she’d bring anyone to justice in your name. Especially if they had made you cry like this. The screen dimmed as she was so focused on your crying state. She was so caught up in her theatric mind, she didn’t notice either you falling asleep and her loud proclamation that you swore you heard. 

“I will make laws just to make it so if anything makes you cry, they will have to stand justice in front of the Hydro Archon herself!”

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette wasn’t ready for you to stare at him in the character menu with teary eyes. He wasn’t new to tears and sadness, but your sadness was something fresh to him. He wanted to do something about it, wanting to bring those to justice if they had hurt you. Little droplets of rain started to fall around him. 

He did his rain idle as his sadness increased, seeing you stuttering through your cries. He was saddened that the one being he looked up to felt so much sadness. There was a guilt as he felt happy that someone as important as you could have vulnerable moments. The surrounding rain in his idle poured harder as you stuttered out something softly in your tears.

“I w-wish you w-were h-here with m-me.”

He couldn’t stop his rain animation after hearing you speak. Your vulnerable voice and stutters made his eyes widen, he couldn’t bring himself to think that you could be this hurt. It worried him as he only wanted to be with you. He wanted to comfort you properly and not from the confines of code and screen that held him. 

The rain started to stop as he saw you falling asleep. He understood that you had a raw emotional moment and only thought that sleep was much needed. He thought of ways to bring those that made you cry to trial, not sure how they would get there in the first place, however. The screen dimmed more as he only stared at you. 

“Those who made you cry will be judged by the Oratrice itself. So save your tears, my lovely god, for when we can cry together.”

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ! ❞

❝ EVERYONE WANTS PROF GETO — IN A WORLD OF BOYS, HE’S A GENTLEMAN ! ❞

✧ pairing: professor!geto x f!reader (part three of the prof geto series)

✧ summary: you always had the wrong timing with professor geto -- first you were his student, then his T.A., and now it was the wrong place -- he’s moving to Kyoto. but you had a few weeks together before then -- so can you make them last?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, a lot of smut (for real), so much fluff (we've earned it), depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader is a grad student, but age is vague, fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, shower sex, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, surprise appearance by someone :)

✧ wc: 12,010 (is anyone surprised?)

✧ other parts: part one | part two | v-day special

Time was the one thing that seemed to always escape you and Suguru — fuck,  timing was never your strong suit to begin with—if your late arrival to Suguru’s first class was any indication. 

You always ended up too early or too late to places, your entire day spent waiting for an appointment in the middle of the day, and your meeting days often mixed up in your head. And now—

Your relationship had an expiration date before it had even started. 

The question you asked when the message from the department head came through hung in the air of his office like a death announcement. And it almost was — the second death of not even the start of what could have been a relationship. 

Suguru’s eyes can’t meet yours, brow furrowed as if he had thought hard enough, he could solve the problem of distance with a simple application of an ethical theory — but unfortunately Socrates nor Plato had invented any solutions for instantaneous travel. 

So the elephant remained. 

“When did you—“ 

“No,” he’s swallowing, his eyes meeting yours again — desperate, but not the desperation you had both felt a moment ago — the desperation felt in the throes of passion — no, this desperation was the one felt when clinging to sand slipping between your fingers, “let’s not talk about this, not right now,” 

“Suguru—“ and his lips find yours again, more insistent this time, his hands slipping around your waist, and each brush of his lips steals away another ounce of sense from you, “we have to talk about—“ 

“I know we do, I know,” he murmurs between kisses, his fingers cupping your cheek, thumb brushing back and forth against your cheekbone, “but I don’t want to think any more — I just want to be with you. I just want you,” and his voice breaks ever so slightly, and it cracks any reservations you have — just as this man always did, “but if you want to talk, we can talk right—“ 

And your lips cut off his sentence, only a moment’s pause before he’s melting into your touch again, your hands sliding against his bare chest, his heartbeat racing as fast as yours was — so much so that you wondered if the beating you heard was your own or his. 

“Your place or mine?” and he blinks, as you kiss his jaw, a chuckle on your lips, “unless you’d like to fuck me in your office, I’ll have to admit it’s one of the things I’ve thought about,” 

And god, all the blood in his body must have fled south in a half second with how much he aches for you, “Now who needs to watch their language?” His words are whispered against your neck, as he leans down to press a sweet kiss there, “what other things have you thought about?” His fingers find your chin, tilting your head until your gaze met his again — dark pools of lust stared back — and your thighs would have pressed together, if his knee wasn’t between them, teasingly rubbing against your far too damp panties. 

“Patience, we have time for that,” and his eyes soften ever so slightly, an iota of relief rippling across his features.

“We do?” And it’s a question he needed to ask — had to ask, but that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the answer to — because he knew it could break him. 

“We do,” you pull him into a kiss, your lips sliding against his, “so the question remains, Professor,” you tease, and a shiver runs down his spine, “your place or mine?” 

~~~

You end up at his place — the car ride there was relatively short, but far too long — wringing your hands in your lap, so you wouldn’t touch him. Because you know it would only take one touch — one touch for him to pull to the side of the road and pull you across the console and into his lap. 

But you wanted to do this right — you needed to do this right. You had both waited long enough — you couldn’t hurry, not when you were both about to cross the finish line. But it didn’t mean you couldn’t toe it. And your fingers brush his outer thigh, and his eyes flicker over to you — a silent warning, and you knew you were playing with fire — the same fire that had burned you both time and time again, but this wasn’t his office. And you weren’t to let a goddamn phone stop you from having what you wanted. 

And you wanted him — so bad — and from the way his gaze found yours, tongue flicking across his lips — he wanted you all the same. Your fingers just rested on his thigh, if only to ground yourself — as if touching him was the same as pinching yourself, to remind you that this wasn’t a dream. It was real — this was real. 

It only became more real as he pulled into his apartment parking lot. He got out first, opening the door for you, as he offered you his hand, and helped you out, drawing close, too close for your brain to function — his lips brushing against your ear, “that’s for teasing me in the car,” you barely manage to gape at him, before he’s leading you inside, a palm resting on the small of your back, as you sneak a glance at him — cheeks still burning.

He was so beautiful — in every sense of that word. His dark hair fell in waves, strands slipping from his bun, assuredly from your tryst in his office; his lips were curled in a slight smile, as he pulled his keys from his pockets; and even his hands were gorgeous — they were so much bigger than yours, and his long fingers, lovely veins running across the back of his hands. 

And you’re finally inside his apartment, as he holds the door open for you — the quiet click of the door makes your heart squeeze, his footsteps against the hardwood still when he’s behind you, his arms slowly curling around your waist. His lips ghost your neck, breath warming your skin, “should we talk first?” 

You lean into his touch, your back pressed into his chest, his fingers lightly squeezing your hips, “we should,” and you should, you had to talk about what was going to happen, what this meant, what Kyoto means — but you want to just stay in this moment, you turn to look at him, and your noses brush, “but I don’t want talk right now,” 

And his breath hitches, as your lips brush his, “But we will later?” his voice is barely above a whisper, as if even a word muttered above a whisper could break this moment. 

“I promise we will,” you murmur, your lips curling, as you turn to face him fully, “but let’s not worry about later right now — there’s only one time that’s important, and that’s right now,” 

“Paraphrasing Tolstoy?” He hums, his arms pull you flush to him, your fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, already rumpled fabric wrinkling further under your touch, “And what do you plan to do to me right now, Princess?” 

“Oh I have many ideas,” you lean up and brush your lips against the cut of his jaw, delighting in the shiver you draw from him, “so many ideas, Professor — should I write an outline up?” 

“Fuck the outline,” and his lips find yours, his arms curled around you, pressing you flush against him, “I have all I need in my arms right now — I’m sure you’ll give a wonderful oral presentation, now won’t you?” He hums, as his lips part yours a moment, his thumb dragging down your puffy, kiss bitten lips — “I already know you’re an incredible orator,” this fucker knew exactly what to say to make your knees buckle. 

“And I know how good you are with your hands,” you guide them to your hips, “able to tear papers and pantyhose apart,” you teased as a tinge of red appeared across his pretty cheekbones, “I’ll expect a new pair by tomorrow,” 

“Consider it a promise,” and he’s kissing down your neck now, and you wonder if he can feel your pulse jumping under his touch, “but I can’t promise that I won’t do the same thing again,” 

And he’s guiding you to his bedroom, walking backwards, as his teeth nibble at a soft spot of your neck, your fingers finding his jaw to guide him back for another kiss when you pause. 

“What is it?” And you’re reaching into your pocket for something, and then reaching into his as well, as he flinches, fingers far too close to a very sensitive spot, and both of your hands emerge with your phones, turning them off before tossing them onto his couch. And he chuckles, “no risks?” 

“There’s already far too much risk when it comes to us — call it preemptive measures,” and you’re leaning back into a kiss, his lips curled in a smile, “no landlines right?” 

And he laughs, nodding, thumb and forefinger tilting your chin up, “Sure you aren’t a utilitarian at heart?” 

“Well, you are certainly the best consequence, now aren’t you?” and he smiles the same smile that doomed you from the start— 

“What a coincidence,” he murmurs, as he pulls you into his bedroom, helping you lie back on his bed, just as he imagined far too many times to be anywhere near ethical, — I was going to say the same about you.” 

~~~ 

“Shouldn’t I be making you feel good first—“ Suguru sucks air through his teeth as your pretty lips press a kiss to his sensitive erection through his tenting boxers, a dark patch of his pre-cum visible on the fabric, “please, sweetheart—“ 

“This is for all the times your email and phone calls blueballed us—“ you smirk, teasing the head with your thumb through the fabric — “and I have to tease you — I mean Professor Geto begging me to suck to him off? Maybe I should make you work for it, write a paper on why you think I should let you cum in my mouth,” and he’s gritting his teeth, cock twitching in his boxers, your words far too effective, “tear it apart until you’re begging for it,” he’s swallowing thickly — and god, he’s so pretty like this, hair splayed out like a halo around his head, cheeks ruddy from his flush, and his chest rising and falling, teeth baring down on his lip, “but I’m much too kind for that,” you’re sliding down his boxers, his cock nearly slapping against his stomach, “and we’ve waited long enough,” 

His cock was even gorgeous — truly what was he? Intelligent, kind, funny — and even his naked body was perfect — his cock was flushed red at the tip, black hair neatly trimmed dotted around it, a slight curve that you knew would feel far too good inside your cunt, and pretty veins you couldn’t wait to memorize— 

You weren’t his favorite student for nothing after all. 

You reach for his cock, smearing the thick beads of pre-cum along his length, kissing the tip, as your fingers slowly gripped the base. He grunts, a sigh leaving his lips, muscles tense as he tries not to rut into your hand and hang on to one iota of self control — and oh, you smirked, you’d do away with that soon enough. 

“You think about me in this room, Suguru?” your fingers slowly start to pump him, his head falling back, “did you touch yourself to the thought of this?” 

“Fuck, Princess—“ your lips curl. 

“Is that a yes?” And you lean down, parting your lips for his length as your tongue traces a teasing trail down his vein, “or a no?” the tip of your tongue lapping at the pre-cum that leaked from his slit, “c’mon, Sugu, not so good to keep your student waiting — maybe I’ll drop the class,” 

“I’ve thought about you — you know I have,” the words leave his lips, any hint of self control lost as his length presses against your cheek when you run a thick stripe with the flat of your tongue up his dick, “wanted to fuck you, taste you, make you scream my name—and,” his gaze softens ever so slightly as his only can in the midst of all this passion, “I wanted to wake up with you, make you breakfast, cuddle you—“ 

And he’s groaning, as you finally wrap your lips around his throbbing cock, tongue swirling around the tip, as his name left his lips in reverence, long fingers finding their way to weave in your hair. Your hand pumped what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. And you know he’s already close by the way his twitching now when his tip nearly brushes against your throat. 

“Sweetheart, stop, I’ll—“ but you don’t oblige him, fingers brushing against his balls, before you’re bracing yourself against his thighs, as you suck and lick at his length, until he’s groaning, “where should I—“ and you suck at his tip in reply, and his head falls back, lips parted in a groan, as he cums hard, swallowing every drop as he paints your throat white with his release. He’s panting and twitching as he comes down from his high — deliciously flushed and messy, as his chest falls up and down as he pants, trying and failing to catch the breath you had stolen from him — sucked from his dick undoubtedly. 

Eyes lidded as he watches you pull yourself from his cock, a string of spit and cum connecting your lips to his cock, before it drips down your chin, “I may get addicted, Sugu,” and you’re climbing back onto his lap, your lips grazing his still racing pulse, grunting as your clothed cunt rubs against his cock, “gonna have my professor’s cock every night at this rate — maybe I’ll suck you off under your desk next time,” your lips brush against his ear, as he gasps, cock twitching against your needy cunt, “how unethical your cock is compared to the rest of you,” and you’re undoing the buttons on his shirt, until it falls open for you, “wonder what other sounds I can draw from you tonight? Shall we learn together—“ 

And he flipped you onto your back on the bed, lips curled in a smile — but a smile laced with lust, eyes raking over your body as he began to strip your shirt off your body, “did you forget, Princess? I’m the professor,” and he leans down to kiss your erect tits through your bra, delighting at your gasp, before sucking lightly at your erect nipple through the fabric, “and I still have so much left to teach you,” 

He is kissing agonizingly slow up your body, first the valley of your breasts, along your collarbone, and the curve of your neck — until his lips finally find yours again. His tongue traces the seam of your lips before being granted access, tasting your own with a moan you swallow all too eagerly. It’s truly not fair for a kiss to be this good — but again, everything about Suguru Geto was.

“What are you going to be teaching me? Kant? Rawls? Aquinas?” You ask between kisses as his fingers sliding behind you to undo your bra, slipping it from your body, his lips parting from yours, a string of spit connecting your lips to his. 

He drags a thumb down your bitten red lips, “No, today's lesson is a bit unorthodox,” and now he’s kissing back down your body this time, tongue dragging over your stomach and belly button, before kissing right above the elastic of your panties. “I’m going to show what I owe you — what I’ve always wanted to owe you—“ a smile playing on his lips, as his legs force your thighs apart, eyes falling onto the wet patch on your underwear with a lust ridden gaze, “and how much I can make you moan my name from it,” 

His fingers begin to ghost up your thighs, before he leans down to ghost all too chaste kisses up your inner thighs, pretty hands holding your flesh still even as it shakes under his attention. 

“Seems like you enjoyed tasting me almost as much as I did,” he teases, dark eyes flickering up to meet yours, as his finger teased the drenched fabric, thumb rubbing against your clit, drawing a lovely gasp from your lips, “no smart remarks now? You always have so much to say,” and he’s pulling your panties down your thighs, seeing your pretty folds on display for him, glistening with your arousal — your need for him, “don’t tell me all it takes is my face between your thighs to get you to fall quiet,” and his lips curl as your lips pout, only making him chuckle, “don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll make sure the only thing you know how to say is my name after this,” 

He presses a sweet kiss to your dripping folds, nose brushing against your sweet clit, the tip of his tongue tracing your outer lips teasingly, “thought about this so long, dreamed about this sweet cunt, Princess — tastes and smells better than I ever imagined,” your fingers grasp at the strands of his hair, tugging the hair tie from his messy bun, toes curling into the sheets, “wanna spend all night buried in this pussy,” 

And his tongue licks a stripe up your cunt, ghosting over your entrance, before he’s circling your clit again. Moans leave your lips, again and again, lips closing over your clit to suck. Your muscles tense, back arching and your nails digging into his scalp, “barely even started, baby, don’t go cumming just yet,” 

“Sugu, please, more,” you whine, looking down at him, eyelashes nearly fluttering. 

His lips curl, “How can I say no to my favorite student?” And his fingers spread your sweet folds, your cunt fluttering around nothing, as he gathers your slick on his thick digit, working his way into your tight walls. 

You’re gasping at the way his finger sinks knuckle deep into your tight cunt, your insides wet and warm, “your pussy is as talkative as you are,” the lewd squelch of your walls fills the silence, “maybe even more,” as he begins to fuck you in earnest, “think you need more, don’t you, baby?” And he’s adding another finger, the delicious stretch making your mouth fall open at the intrusion of his fingers. 

You’re bucking against his touch, thighs shaking as you do, his fingers curling against that spot that has you moaning his name, his dick half hard already just from feeling your walls around his fingers. 

You’re so fucking close — the drag of his fingers against your walls, your hips meeting his thrusts, “good girl, you take me so well, can’t wait to sink into you, Princess,” and his lips find your clit again, teeth grazing it teasingly, “s’good for me, baby, you close?” And you’re nodding, walls fluttering around his fingers, and he grunts, “cum for me,” 

And you do, your head falling back onto the pillow, as you cum hard, his name on your lips, as your walls squeeze around his fingers. He finger fucks you through your orgasm, tongue lapping up your release, his lips leaving your clit with a pop. 

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers around your sweet cunt. Your eyes flutter open, watching him lick his lips clean, before he meets your gaze, pressing his fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean, “sweetest thing I ever tasted, baby,” 

He’s kissing your thighs, as you come down from your high, teeth grazing the plush flesh of your inner thigh, sucking and pinching, before soothing it with his tongue, “s’good for me,” and he’s slinking back up your body, his hard cock catching on your clit, making both of you groan. 

“Please, Suguru, I need you,” your fingers find the back of his neck, threading through his hair,  and he smirks. 

“Look at my T.A., so needy for her professor,” and your fingers tug at his hair to pull the smirk off his lips, “I’d say you hold all the power in this relationship, Princess,” 

“Do I, now?” Your fingers curl around his length, teasing the leaking head with your thumb making him hiss. 

And his gaze meets you so earnestly, it nearly makes you melt, a gasp leaving his lips as he cups your cheek, “You could ruin my life, and I would thank you for it, if it was you,” 

“Suguru—“ 

“If you were going to use me, I’d tell you to use me. If you needed me, I’d want you to call me,” he leans down to kiss your forehead, “and If you didn’t love me, I’d love you anyway,” and he doesn’t let you respond, lips brushing against yours, as he gently moves your hand away, and lines himself up, the head of his cock rubbing against your sensitive clit, “are you ready?” 

And you’re nodding, a huffed chuckle escaping your lips, “Been ready for far too long — there’s no other electronics around here right?” 

He laughs, “No, just you and me,” molten lava stared back at you, a heat seeping into your skin as he guided himself into your fluttering cunt, inch by inch, as his name leaves your lips in a desperate moan that nearly has him cumming right then and there, not to mention how eagerly your pussy swallows his cock whole, “fuck, such a good fucking girl f’me, baby,” 

He split you open as he sunk into you, pretty walls stretching around him — delicious pleasure with an undercurrent of pain, soft praises whispered in your ears as he did, setting an agonizingly slow pace, “that’s it, baby, look at you, taking me s’well,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your neck, as you bite your lip, “are you okay?” and he finally bottoms out, stilling as your walls clamp around him, a groan leaving his lips, “so tight, so much better than I could have imagined,” 

“Sugu, please, move,” and you didn’t need to say anything more — he starts slow, languid thrusts that drive him deeper into your cunt, his fingers lift your legs up, hooking them around his waist, and you wrap them even tighter, the tip of his cock hitting even fucking deeper, “fuck, Sugu, so deep, so good—” 

“You were made for me, just like this cock was made for you,” he grunts, the lewd squelch of your insides, the slapping of your skin against his, “been thinking about this for so long, pretty girl, never wanna leave this cunt,” his vulgar words only made your walls flutter around him, “trying to keep my dick, Princess? Don’t worry, it’s only for you anyway,” he teases, “my pretty girl’s cunt been denied twice — gotta make sure you learn your lesson this time, right?” 

And god you were — you were learning his shape, his length, the slight curve he had, every vein that lined his cock, every inch — and you’d be sure to memorize it. Because he may be reaching you this time — a moan leaving your lips as his cock kissed a particularly deep part of your cunt — but the next lesson, you would be sure to pass with flying colors. 

“S’close, Sugu, fuck, ngh—“ and he’s nodding, his fingers reach and rub your clit in circles, cock hitting that part of your cunt that has you seeing stars as pleasure rips up your body, as you cum. Your toes curl, fingers grasping at him to pull him impossibly close, His eyes flicker open, watching your cunt squeeze around his cock, a white ring of cum around his base, he fucked you through your orgasm. 

His hips begin to stutter, a groan pulled from his lips, “S’good baby, I’m close—where—“ 

“Inside,” and his dick twitch, “cum for me, Suguru,” and he does, notching himself deep inside you, as he spills his seed inside, thick spurts painting you walls, as he moans your name. His thrusts slow, his lips brushing against yours. And you smile up at him, still dazed, his softening cock still inside you, “well that was very unethical,” a giggle escaped your lips, and his lips curled, as he leaned up to kiss you again. 

“And how much more unethical would it be to do it again?” and you hum, as you flip him over onto his back. 

“It’s a sunk cost fallacy at this point, think we can get away with it now,” and your lips find his in a hot kiss, your teeth grazing his bottom lip, tugging at it as he pulls away. 

“A philosopher and an economist?” he chuckles, his lips grazing your jaw now, murmuring, “I learn more about you every day,” 

“I could cite Kant or Butler if you’d prefer—” and he’s grinding his hips under you, a gasp parting your lips, as his cock slides against your soaked cunt, “Sugu—” 

His lips curl in that damn smile, and all words fall away, as he kisses you, “I think I would rather listen to my name leave you lips instead, princess.” 

~~~

RING. RING. RING. 

Fuck. You give a soft groan — a dream again? 

A small sigh parts your lips, as reality washes over you. Eyes fluttering open and shut, as sleep pulls at your eyelids still. Your hands reach over to both sides, but find no one as expected, you sigh, rolling over and burying your face in your pillow. It was all soft sheets and shining sunlight — but no Suguru. You kicked your feet up and down, pouting. You thought you were over having those dreams. 

But then….why did it smell like him? 

“What are you doing?” And you snap up, turning quickly, the comforter sliding down slightly and find Suguru standing in the doorway of his bedroom, leaning against his door frame. He looks sinfully good — long hair still thoroughly rumpled from the night before, pretty lips a little kiss bitten red, only a black t-shirt and boxers thrown on, and his obsidian gaze fixed on you. 

“What—what are you doing?” And he raises an eyebrow. 

“Isn’t that obvious? Watching you,” he chuckles, as your cheeks burn, “can you blame me? I’m enjoying the view,” he teases, as you glance down and see that half the blanket had slid down, exposing your bare chest. 

You pull the blanket back on, wrapping it around yourself, “So one night in bed and the ethics fall out the window, huh?” 

“Well, you did a good job defenestrating them, didn’t you?” He chuckles, sipping his coffee, “have to take responsibility for your actions — it is your duty,” 

“Oh, it’s my duty now?” And he’s climbing back into bed beside you, “and what does this duty entail?” And he hums, as your fingers find the fabric of the front of his shirt and tug him close, before sliding up to wrap around his neck. 

“Well, Kant said, it’s not the consequences that matter, but the motives behind the actions,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your jaw, “so what are your motives?” 

“My motives are…” you consider your words, as you suppress the moan from his teeth grazing his pulse, and you pout, “you’re distracting me,” and he laughs, the lovely vibration against your skin making you shiver, before he draws back, thumb drawing circles on your palm now, “I want to wake up with you, I want to fall asleep beside you, I want to hear about your days and your night — even ones I spend with you, and I’d say my main motivation is to be with you,” your fingers clasps his thumb, before slowly intertwining your fingers with his, “is that a sufficient answer, Professor Geto?” And he’s silent a moment, a sweep of anxiety rushes across your body, fingers grasping at the sheet hidden under the comforter, as you add, “but Kant would also argue that the behavior is not one done of good will since, even if the consequence is good, it’s not done out of respect for the moral law—“ 

And his lips find yours, cutting off your ramble mid sentence, letting each sentence, word, and thought burn under his touch, each brush of his lips and his hands — as one palm cupped your cheek, while the other found purchase on your thigh — erased more of your worries, until he finally parts—

“It’s always good, if it’s you that I have as my consequence,” and he erodes the last of your concerns with his words, as his lips find yours again, “I was going to make you breakfast,” he mutters against your lips, meeting and parting again and again, before he’s easing the blanket from your fingers, gaze darkening as he sees you fully. And he’s easing you onto your back, against the plush pillows and sheets, as he kisses a hot trail down your body, before he finds himself between your legs again, tongue darting out to lick his lips, “but I think I may have my meal first.” 

~~~

Suguru would have thought it was a dream, if he hadn’t woken first. To wake again in your arms, sunlight filtering through in his bedroom, your arms curled on his front, and your legs entangled, the warmth of your breath heating his skin, and your face tucked into the crook of his neck. 

He had to pinch himself to make sure, eyes drifting up to the ceiling to the same fan he had stared at on many sleepless nights with only thoughts of you plaguing his mind, before his gaze fell back to you — only to find you beside him now. 

There was no more perfect dream than this, but it wasn’t one, as the back of his fingers caressed your cheek gently, and you stirred only for a moment, a whisper on your tongue, “Sugu,” you murmured, lips parted as your nestled further into his chest, and his body burned with want. 

Fuck. He tried to shift his hips away from you — this wasn’t helping his early morning problem — now was it? He really didn’t want a repeat of the hotel bathroom again, but this time, he could take his time — because you both had it. The end of the semester had mostly come and gone — he could wait on grading the papers — if only it meant a few minutes more in bed with you. 

You woke up soon enough after he had left bed, hoping to start on the beginnings of breakfast, but he found himself feasting on another meal instead. 

“Sugu, please, s’close,” what was it about you that tasted so heavenly? He had spent his life pouring over ethical dilemmas and trying to tackle problems of moral truths, but as he brought you over the edge to your second orgasm, he couldn’t help but wonder if he should have spent his time buried in your cunt instead of books. 

He lapped up your release eagerly, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his tongue before running a thick stripe up the length of your cunt, drawing another gasp from you — thighs shaking from pleasure. 

“Sugu, please, enough,” and he eases off, chin and lips still sticky with your cum, as his tongue darted out to clean some of it off, wiping the rest off with his arm, “I want you, please,” 

And fuck, he could cum just hearing those words from your kiss ruined lips, eyes blown out in lust, and your bare chest rising and falling. He drags his cock over your folds again, “need me again, Princess? Last night not enough for you?” he grunts when he watches your walls clench around nothing, as if to tempt his dick to sink into you. 

He bit his lip, it was working. 

Eventually, the two of you lie entangled again, a little stickier than before, your faces half an inch apart, and your fingers tracing his jaw. 

“I wish we could stay here in this bed forever,” you murmur, and he turns his head to brush his lips against your fingertips, soft kisses pressed to each one, his nose then rubbing against your palm, “no responsibilities, no reality, just us,” 

“Sounds like heaven,” he murmurs, words whispered against your skin, “of course I think any place with you is,” except when he can’t touch you, when he can’t kiss you, when he can’t smile at you without his heart aching — but he doesn’t say that, “we should talk shouldn’t we?” 

“We should,” your eyes meet his, an ache that only made the ache in him grow, “I don’t want to stop you from going to Kyoto,” 

“I would if it was for us, for you,” and your lips curl sadly, teeth bearing down on your bottom lip, as if to stop yourself from saying yes, that you’d let him — let him say no, let him keep his old job, let him stay in Tokyo. 

“But that’s exactly why I can’t do that, for you — you said you wouldn’t jeopardize my future, and I can’t do that to you too,” you say softly, pressing your forehead to his, “I can’t let you put your career on hold for us, I know you’ve wanted this. You must’ve since you applied,” 

“I only applied because I thought we would never—“ he cuts off, lump sitting on his throat, “I don’t want this to end before it’s barely started,” 

“Me either,” you say softly, and his lips brush yours — he didn’t want it to end, not now. Not ever. 

And then he realizes — it doesn’t have to. 

“Then we start there,” he says, as he parts from your lips, words said in the promise of the same breaths you both had just exhaled, “I’m not moving until next semester. We have two months of summer before I’ll be in Kyoto full time, and before you have classes again,” his fingers find yours, intertwining with his, hand engulfing yours, “We’ll live as philosophical presentists,” and you scoff, a smile pulling on your lips. 

“You don’t miss an opportunity to give a lesson, do you?” He gives a wry smile. 

“Take the professor out of the classroom—“ and you snort, “what I mean is let’s live in this moment — we could discuss the future and past all day long — but neither exist right now,” and he rests your palm against his cheek, fingers squeezing your own, “but we do, in this moment right now, so why don’t we savor it?” 

Your lips can’t help but curl into a smile, “How about instead of a drink you make me breakfast?” 

~~~~

Was it possible to get deja vu from an experience you hadn’t had yet? 

You step into Suguru’s shower, a distinct sense of deja vu settling over you as you wash yourself, the marks of the night before (and this morning) still littering your body, as if to remind you that it wasn’t a dream. 

It better not be, as you pinched yourself again, pressing your hands to your still hot cheeks, sticking your head under the water. God, this shower smelt like him, the scent of his shampoo and soap lingering in the bath, even after he had left. He had showered here this morning, after you had laid in for a bit longer, emerged from the master bath with only a towel around his waist, stray water droplets running down his chest, drenched black strands clinging to his skin. He had stood here, and washed himself — lathering his body, hands drawn up and down his muscles, from his shoulders to his chest to his stomach — lower and lower—

You bit your lip, as you pressed your thighs together.

No, no, if you did that and Suguru caught you, he would never let you live it down. You finish your shower, the squeak of the faucet as you shut the water off, before toweling off. You glanced at your clothes hanging on the towel rack outside the shower, rumpled from the night before, reluctant to pull it back on. Instead, you step out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around your body, 

You had a better idea. 

~~~

“You have good timing,” Suguru says, smile on his lips, as he folds the omelet, yours he had decided, as with pancakes, his first omelet has not come out as well as this one had, “not late for once,” as he carefully plates the other omelet with some rice as well as miso soup he had made the night before, “I—“ 

And he turns, words fleeing his mind, assuredly taking his several years of education and teaching with it, as all the blood from his brain floods downward. 

You were wearing his button up from last night, the wrinkled fabric draped over your body, falling past your thighs, the buttons mostly done, with a few top buttons unbuttoned far too teasingly — just one more and he could kiss your chest, two and he could— 

Fuck. 

“What?” You blink, chewing on your lip, “sorry I didn’t want to get back on my clothes from last night, so I stole your shirt, and uh,” your gaze shying away, “your boxers,” 

Self control. He had perfect self control — hell, this last year had been an exercise in self control — control from brushing his fingers over your cheek, control from saying anything that pushed the line any further than the two of you had blurred it, control himself from taking you in his office (though he had not controlled himself as more as he was interrupted — twice). 

But it was as if the dam had broken,  the small cracks formed in the concrete now had compromised the integrity of the barrier and had burst the night before, and now — he rounded the counter, his arms reaching for you — there was no putting the water back in the dam after a flood. 

Then again, he was more than happy to get swept away — if it was you. 

“Sugu—ummph,” his name was muffled by the namesake’s own lips, swallowing the rest of his syllables along with your breath. His hands rake down your sides, his large hands slipping under your shirt, finding bare skin underneath. 

“Nothing but my boxers and shirt?” He kisses your jumping pulse, lips lingering on your neck, as his hands squeeze your hips, “it’s like you knew what I wanted for breakfast, Princess,” fingers toying with the hem of the boxers you stole, “stealing isn’t very ethical,” 

“Neither is a professor sleeping with a student,” you said between gasps. 

He chuckles, “Well, a fair point, but let me remind you,” his fingers tease the elastic of his boxers you wore, the pads of fingers burning against your skin, as his erection pressed between your ass, drawing a gasp from your lips, “you wanted it,” 

“What’s gotten into you?” you murmur, as his hand dips into your boxers, your head pressed against his body, lips parted, as a ribbon of heat spreads like a fire in dry heat. 

And he knows exactly what’s gotten into him, his clothes on you, the scent of his soap and shampoo on you, and the way your body just melts under his touch—as your eyes drift to meet his own, looking up with lust scrawled across your features. 

“You just look like a dream,” and his body met yours with a practiced ease, as if he had loved you all his life, and not for the first time last night, “one that I’ve had for far too long,” he buried. His face in the crook of your neck, lips pressing careful kisses as if you’d disappear under his touch, “is this real?” 

And he doesn’t know why his breath catches at the question, a question he knows the answer to, because he knows you’re real, your warm skin under his touch, the pulse he felt racing under his lips — but he still worried he’d wake up in any second and you wouldn’t be here. 

You softly chuckle, pinching his arm, “you feel that?” And he nods, and you turn to face him, leaning up to kiss his lip chastely, “did you feel that?” And he’s nodding, eyes fluttering, before you kiss his neck, teeth grazing his soft skin there, a gasp parting his lips, as you lean back, a smirk pulling on your lips,  “and you definitely felt that,” you press your body into his, “this is real, I’m not going anywhere,” and he smiles, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush against him, “should we have breakfast now?” 

His lips curl, his fingers tilting your chin up, as he leans down to kiss you again, “in a minute.” 

Because now you both had plenty of those. 

~~~

“Where are we going?” 

Suguru laughs, you were sure his laugh was in the top five noises that he made — right between him whispering your name in the mornings  and the way he groaned when you teased him particularly badly. 

His eyes still fixed on the road, flickered to you for a moment while he drove, “The more you ask, the less likely I am to tell you,” and you pout, hiding the smile that creeped on your lips as you crossed your arms. 

After the day you two spent, the next day, Suguru had already made plans to take you on a date — only giving you a day or so to prepare. No instructions except to wear layers to keep a little warm. 

“You weren’t likely to tell me anyway,” he chuckles, as you glance at him again — it still almost feels forbidden as you did — he had opted for contacts rather than glasses, his hair tied in a bun as usual, lips curled in your favorite smile — you didn’t have to steal glances anymore, these glances were yours to have. 

It felt so different from that drive you had taken to the conference — it felt as if you were being suffocated by your feelings, sucking the air you breathed from your lungs as if to stop you from speaking because any word you spoke would only cross that line you couldn’t even toe without drowning. But now, that line wasn’t even blurred, it was gone, washed away by the decision the two of you made — and it couldn’t have been better. 

Because now you could do this. 

Your fingers rest on the gap of the console, before sliding over, and finding his thigh. His eyes slide over to you, “Need something sweetheart?” 

You hum, drawing circles on his thigh, “Wondering if I could convince you to tell me where we’re going with some extra credit?” 

“I don’t remember assigning any extra credit, plus you’re not being graded, but even if you were,” you smile, “you’d have at least a B+,” 

You gasp, “Suguru!” He laughs, even harder when he spots the pout on your lips, “I think I deserve higher than that,” 

He pulls up to a stoplight, fingers finding yours  “well maybe you can change my mind tonight,” 

“Will we ever get there? Or is it a ‘Waiting for Godot’ situation?” He snorts, as he intertwined his fingers with yours, lifting the back of your hand to his lips and holding it there. 

“I promise I’ll never keep you waiting,” and your gaze softens, as he continues to hold your hand as he drives. 

You smile, squeezing his hand, “Good, because I think we both have waited long enough.” 

~~~

“Is the blindfold necessary?” 

“Trust is essential to a relationship,” Suguru replied, his arm around your waist as the other hand held your own, a blindfold tied around your eyes, as he guided you somewhere — the blindfold had come a few minutes before you reached your destination, “don’t you trust me, princess?” 

“Oh I don’t know, it depends on whether you’re planning on murdering me and disposing of my body in the ocean,” and he pauses — you can almost see the furrow of his brow, “you may have blindfolded me but I can still smell,” the scent of sea salt carried by the cool breeze tickled at your nose, even as you still walked on pavement approaching the beach, you could faintly hear the distant sounds of waves crashing against the shore. 

“I suppose I should have gotten nose and ear plugs for my far too observant girlfriend,” and the title makes your heart squeeze, as his fingers squeeze your hand, before parting, only to brush against your hair as he undoes the blindfold, “well since it’s spoiled already,” 

The blindfold falls away, sunlight peeking through a moment, as the world comes into view — a beautiful sandy beach with salty waves parting through the shore, so bright as the sun reflects off the sand, making your eyes squint, only for Suguru to place sunglasses carefully on your face, “You came prepared,” your lips curl, as he tucks the blindfold away, and lifts up a picnic basket, “in more than one way,” 

“Well, I thought a picnic on the beach was a nice way to begin today,” and he pulls out a sunhat from his bag as well, placing on top of your head, “don’t worry, I have sunblock as well, in case we need it,” 

“You thought of everything, didn’t you?” and you look up at him, the light glinting off his flint eyes like sparks, “and now what’s my job here?” 

“Enjoy today, take in the view,” and your fingers brush his cheek, somehow warmer than before. 

“Funny, I thought I already was.” 

~~~~

“Are you cold?” Suguru murmurs, when he feels you lean on him, a slight shiver against his chest that runs up your spine, and before you can answer, he’s wrapping a blanket around the two of you. 

“Mr. Philosopher always has all the answers don’t you?” Another breeze has you moving even closer, as his palm moves to lean towards you, arm brushing against your back. 

“Not all the answers,” and he brushes a stray hair behind your ear, as his lips brush against it, “I still don’t know how you became so irresistible,” 

“All the ethics, of course,” and he snorts, as he hums, his hand sliding against your cheek, as his lips press against the soft skin beside your ear, “Sugu—” 

“Hm?” he leans back to listen so intently, noses brushing, and all the words you have slips off your tongue, every thought flies right out of your head, and all that’s left is the feeling of warmth that comes with being this close. 

God, he was unfairly gorgeous — even now, his hair unkempt from the wind as dark locks trickled out of his bun, his  skin painted with a pretty flush, and his warm body pressed against you made any thought of being cold evaporate. 

“Sweetheart? You okay?” he murmurs, fingers drifting over your cheek, a tilt of his head, and pulls you back from your reverie like the waves pulling more sand back into the ocean. 

“I’m okay,” you shake your head, as your fingers rest over his, leaning into his touch, “I just was thinking how perfect this moment was,” 

“And what’s so perfect about it?” 

“You and me, just,” you bite your lip, “I didn’t think it’d happen,” 

“Me either,” he admits, “I don’t ever want to hold you back — I couldn’t stand to be the reason for your unhappiness,” 

“I could never see you as that,” and his lips curl, “promise you’ll never leave me?” 

“Princess—“ 

“Just promise,” you murmur, “even if it isn’t real—“ 

“Who says it isn’t?” His lips brush yours, a heat that swallows your cold, creeping anxieties and burns them to nothing, “I promise, I’ll never leave you,” 

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” 

“Well, call me a Kantian,” he kisses you again, whispering these words against your lips, “because I intend to keep this promise.” 

~~~

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?” 

You chuckle, glancing over your shoulder at Suguru looking perfectly lost as he stood, watching you, hands crossed if only to stop him from taking over. 

“For the millionth time, no,” you continue stirring the miso soup you were making, as you tenderized the chicken for the chicken katsu, “just keep me company,” you glance at him, biting your lip as your eyes raked over his outfit — a white shirt tucked under a navy pullover tucked into dark jogger pants, “and you’re already providing eye candy,” you teased. 

“Oh, am I?” He raised an eyebrow, and you turned back to the task at hand, as you set the meat tenderizer down, to prepare the chicken to be breaded, and his arms curled around your waist, “and what if I want you to use a little more than your eyes?” 

“Suguru, my dinner—“ but he continues, fingers brushing your hair aside, his warm breath turning your blood to molten molasses, “you’re making a habit of interrupting our meals like this.” 

“The only thing I want to eat is in my arms,” he kisses your neck, feeling you shiver, “there’s another philosophy — ‘the customer’s always right?’”

You laugh, warmth blooming in his chest at the sound, “this isn’t a restaurant, unless I’m charging you at the end of this,” 

“Maybe you should, I’d be more than happy to oblige,” and you hum as he trailed kisses down your neck to your shoulder — he never had a sweet tooth, but you were the only dessert he ever had craved. 

“Knowing you, it would also come with a review written in red pen,” and it’s his turn to laugh now, as you lowered the stove temperature on the soup, before turning to face him. 

He pulls you flush against him, “I’d hope you’d do better than a B+ this time,” and you glare at him, before your lips curl into a smirk, as you dare closer, your chest now pressed against his. 

“This time I will because my annoying prick of a professor is very much able to be persuaded by other methods not available to me at the time,” your lips ghost over his ear, just as your voice used to haunt him in his dreams, “but now, I think he’ll be quite amenable to my work,” 

“Don’t you want to earn your accolades?” and your smile is more wicked than the night itself, as you lean up to meet his own.  

“Oh I will be earning them,” your lips are so close he could feel the words you spoke as you did — every part of your lips, every flick of your tongue — and then he’s met with your fingers dragging flour over his cheek, “after dinner.” 

Suguru gaped at the flour smeared across his cheek, as you turned back around, the click of the burner as you turned it high again, “Was that necessary? You snorted, as you began to season the chicken, as he wiped the offending flour from his cheek. 

“Well, was it necessary to give me a 99 on the final paper?” 

~~~~

“Well, this is just unfair,” you sat in the middle of a cat cafe — arms crossed and biting back a small smile that threatened to bloom across your lips — the cutest one you had found in the heart of Tokyo that you had reluctantly dragged Suguru. 

He wasn’t a fan of cats or dogs, for that matter. 

But now, after paying the admission fee, and ordering your drinks, the two of you sat in an enclosure of cats you were far too eager to meet — and perhaps, they could sense it. 

“Did you break Kantian principles and lie about hating cats or is the universe playing a prank?” you watch as yet another cat approaches your boyfriend, an entire litter already taking up residence on any available real estate on his body, while you had only a single cat in your lap the entire time, as if it was taking pity on you. 

This was no better than when you were a T.A., swarms of students surrounding Suguru, while you were left with barely a soul. Apparently it applied to students and animals, and you felt a small twinge of jealousy — but you weren’t sure if you were more jealous of the cats or him. 

“I don’t hate them, I just don’t particularly want one of my own,” he shrugs, as he scratches the newcomer behind the ear, “but maybe you’ve changed my mind,” 

“I tend to have that influence,” and his lips curl. 

“I have seem to have developed a soft spot for strays,” and you gape at him, as he snorts at your aghast expression, a cat swatting at his bobbing bangs as he shook with laughter, “but you’re my favorite one,” 

“I better be,” you grumble, crossing your arms and pouting, before you watched him pet yet another cat that had made itself at home on your boyfriend’s lap. And you pull out your phone to sneak a few pictures.

“I wanted to ask you something actually,” he says as you glanced up from your phone, he bit his lip, a small hint of nerves apparent in his stiff shoulders and shy gaze, “I’m going to Kyoto next week to look for an apartment for when the semester starts,” and your heart sinks a little at the thought — the summer was half over already, and it was far too quick for your liking. The more you wanted time to linger, the more it seemed to escape you, “I wanted to ask if you’d like to come to see apartments with me,” 

You blink, you ask softly, “You want me to come?” 

He gets up, easing the cats gently out of his lap, as he makes his way to your side. He sits beside you, the cat in your lap, stretching its way between the two of you, as you rub his head.  

“I know we said we would see how this would go before the start of the semester, but I know what I want — I think I did from the very start of this,” he says, as his ebony gaze finds yours, “I want to be with you — and I’d like you to come with me to pick out an apartment, because I want it to be somewhere you want to be too—“ 

And you cut him off with a kiss, arms thrown around his neck — he freezes a moment, before melting into your kiss, his fingers cupping your cheeks, “We’ll have to make sure it’s pet friendly,” 

He chuckles, his forehead pressed against yours, “So we’re getting a cat?” 

Your fingers find his own as another cat brushes against both of your legs, “That or a poodle.” 

~~~

“What did you think of that place?” You ask as you both walk out of another viewing for an apartment, as he looks at the list he made on his phone, “it had good light, it’s close to the university, it’s pretty spacious,” But he’s sighing, as you tilt your head, “Suguru?” 

“Sorry, it’s nothing,” he’s shaking his head, “i think we should look for another place,” the same thing he had said for the last three places — he had found something wrong with each of them, but this one seemed different. 

“Why?” and he doesn’t answer, and you cling to his arm, a hand on his cheek to guide him to look at you, “Sugu?” 

He bites his lip a little, as he rubs the back of his neck, “it’s just far from the station so when you come to visit, it might be a little difficult for you,” and your gaze softens, mouth opening to reply, “I didn’t want to tell you because I know you would tell me not to worry,” and you close your mouth, and he chuckles, “I was right huh?” 

“Oh, a man is a smart ethics professor and he thinks he knows everything,” you kiss his lips, “you really don’t have to worry. We’ll make it work,” 

“I know, but the round trip on the bullet train is four hours, I don’t want to make you wait longer or waste even a minute of your time together,” he murmurs, as you twirl a dark strand of his hair between your fingers. 

“No moment spent getting to you or being with you is a waste,” you smile, fingers smoothing your boyfriend’s furrowed brow, “plus the train gives me time to catch up on my reading — and you’ll be coming to see me too,”

“I know, I just,” he sighs, leaning into your hand resting against his cheek, “I don’t want to ever be a burden,” 

“Not to me, it’s not a burden when it’s you,” your fingers find his and bring his knuckles to your lips, “you’re worth every minute,” 

“And you’re worth so much more than that,” and you smile against his skin. 

“Always have to one up me, don’t you?” And his arm wraps it’s way around your waist, tugging you close. 

His lips brush yours again, “Always, when it comes to caring for you.” 

~~~

“You found such a perfect hotel room,” you sighed, collapsing onto the pristine (not so pristine now) bed, your feet very sore from all the walking you had done over the last three days, “I’m glad you finally found a place you liked,” and he sits at the edge of the bed, beside you, as he chuckles at the sight of you laid starfished on the bed, “the apartment’s beautiful, close to the university and a station, and it allows pets,” 

His fingers find your foot, massaging the sore sole, bringing a low groan from your lips, eyes fluttering shut, “Good thing, otherwise, they’d never let me bring you in,” and your eyes snap open to playfully kick him and he laughs, as he stares at you, fingers ghosting over your ankle. 

“What are you staring at?” You tease, and he can’t help the words that escape his lips. 

“I love you,” and your breath catches, as your mind struggles to process the words that left his lips, and a chuckle leaves his lips, as he leans over on his elbow to hover over you, “I’ll say it again, as many times as you need to hear it,” 

“You will?” your lips curl into a smile, “because I think I would like to hear it again,” 

“I love you,” and his lips graze against yours, “I love you,” again, his lips linger a moment longer, “I love you,” again, “I love you—” 

And you kiss him this time, your fingers cupping his cheek, sliding to the back of his neck, as your forehead press together, “I love you too,” and he grins down at you, his lips finding yours again and again, pressing you into the comforter, “I love you, Suguru,” you murmur, his fingers skimming your cheek.

“You know you don’t have to say it back—” 

“I know,” you scoff, as you pinch his cheek lightly, “I said it because I meant it, I do love you, Suguru — I have for a long time,” 

He smirks, “A long time?” 

“Shut up,” you pout, and he’s laughing as he showers your face with soft kisses, “nooo, I changed my answer, I don’t know if I love y—” and he’s swallowing your words with another kiss — but this one is languid and deep, a heat that sinks in from his touch, as his body brushes against yours, until he finally parts to allow you both a breath, “not fair,” 

“Sorry sweetheart, no changing your answer now,” he runs his fingers through your hair, and you’re pulling him into another soft kiss, before you bury your face in his chest, and he gives a soft sigh, as the two of you cuddle, a small chuckle on his lips. 

“What is it?” 

“Deja vu,” and you blink, he laughs again, “the last time we were in a hotel together, we weren’t together, but we had these feelings, and now—” his lips find the top of your head, fingers running through your dark locks, “things are so different — it almost feels like a lifetime ago,” 

“It wasn’t that long ago, but I’m glad it feels that way,” your nose brushes against the hollow of his throat, “I want us to fill up our present with good memories, so that we don’t have any of those other ones linger,”

“I think we can manage that,” his lips glide against yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, “we should shower,” 

“We?” you raise an eyebrow, a heat that sparks and settles over your skin that only stokes brighter and hotter, when his hand runs down your side and squeezes your hip, “Sugu—” 

“Should we take a utilitarian approach? The benefits: it’s better for the environment to preserve water, we can stay close to each other as we clean our bodies, and reach the spots that are hard for us ourselves to reach. The costs would be,” his lips ghost your collarbone, “we would take longer thus using more water, we would get messier before we would get cleaner, and we might spend a lot more time in bed after,” 

“How is that a cost?” you slip off the bed, tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it at him, before pulling down your shorts, as you open the bathroom door, leaning against the door frame, “Are you going to show me the benefits of being my boyfriend?” 

~~~

“Suguru,” his name left your lips in broken syllables, as the head of his leaking cock teased your drenched entrance, your hands braced against the shower wall, the cold of the wet glass contrasting with the warmth of his body pressed against your back, “please,” 

“Please what, princess?” his lips ghost over your shoulder, licking a water droplet from your neck, as he moves a few wet locks to kiss the skin behind your ear, “You’re going to have to be more specific — I can’t help you, if you don’t tell me what you need — isn’t that the first thing I taught you?” 

“No, the first thing you taught me was to never be late,” you gasp as he allows his tip to sink into your needy cunt only a little, before he allows it to slip out, “fuck, Sugu, please, I want your cock,” 

“There we go,” his chuckle rumbles against your skin, as he guides his length to your dripping pussy before beginning to sink in, “I told you we would be in here for a while,” his fingers find yours, as he thrusts into you in one smooth movement, his balls pressed flush to your ass, “even your fingertips have become like prunes,” he turns your head to see your lips parted and panting for him, cunt twitching as he drags a thumb down your lips, “but my favorite student doesn’t mind does she?” and you whimper as he pulls his hips back, only to pump back in even harder, a moan leaving your lips, as he holds an arm around you to hold you, as he presses his other palm against the wall, as he starts to fuck you in earnest. 

The slaps of your wet skin echoes in the glass walls of the shower, steam from the hot water filling both of your visions, as his tip brushes against your cervix, “S’good, Sugu, so deep,”  your walls flutter around his dick. 

“Good girl, so perfect f’me, take me so well,” his balls slap against the soft flesh of your ass as he fucks you harder, “been thinking about this for so long, thought about taking you in that hotel room all those nights ago, and it’s better than I could have imagined,” one of his hands finds your breast, tweaking and pinching your nipple, as your walls only pull him in deeper and deeper each time he sinks back in, “perfect little princess cunt made f’me, only for me,” 

He’s desperate, as he fucks you deeper and deeper, “Please, I’m close,” your soft cries and moans will be the death of him. He’s turning your head and leaning forward to pull you into a kiss, a sloppy kiss that’s all tongue and teeth. His hands squeeze your hips as he rocks against you again and again, the wet squelch of your cunt ringing in his ears, until he finally hits that spot that has you seeing stars, pulling you over the edge. You cum, the coil in your stomach snapping as you do, your walls clamping down on his dick, as he notches himself deep and cums — spurting his hot release deep inside, as the two of you moan, lips parting. The quiet water drumming against his back fills the silence along with your soft gasps and his pants. The two of you slump forward in the shower, his arm braced around your middle, as his softened cock slips from inside. 

He presses soft kisses to your neck and cheek, whispering quiet praises, “Let’s finish washing up, baby, and I’ll help you into bed,” and you nod, boneless, as you lean against his chest, fingers brushing down his cheek, “are you okay?” 

You nod, as you lean up to kiss his lips, “More than, when I’m with you,” and you add with a dreamy smile, “especially when I find out you’ve fantasized about me,” his already flushed cheeks even redder than before, “you’ll have to tell me more about these thoughts,” 

“And if I refuse?” he murmurs, the blush kissing his ears now, the pink of his soft skin contrasting against the black of his gauges. 

You hum, “I have my ways of making you talk,” and he snorts, as your expression softens, “I love you,” 

He turns you gently, finding your lips in another kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck — and he can’t think of a place he’d rather be than with you, “I love you too.” 

~~~

“It’ll fly by,” you murmur, as you rake your fingers through his hair — you had convinced him to get a trim a week ago, the dead ends long gone, and all that was left were his gorgeous locks. He still opted for the long hair look — sometimes it was tucked away in a bun, other times it was half up, and even at times, he kept it down, “it’s two weeks, and then I’ll come by to visit you,” 

“It’s two weeks too long,” Suguru sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “I’m sorry I had to do—” 

You place a finger over his lips, “Don’t apologize for furthering your career with something you’ve always wanted to do,” you cut him off, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I only have one year left of the program, and then after that, we’ll see where we’re at—” 

He glances away, “I don’t know where either of us will be — but I know I want us to be together,” he bites his lip, and it only makes you want to kiss him all the more, “if that’s what you want too,” 

You pull back only to find his lips again, “You never mince your words do you, Professor?” You can’t help but smile at this man — the man you loved more than you could express in any combination of words. 

“Well, I find my most bright students need a more direct approach,” and you laugh, as he’s pressing needy kisses along your jaw, nosing the sensitive skin, “I think you’ll find it’s a tried and true method,” 

“Oh yeah, I’ve tried it — it’s very true,” as his lips kiss their way back to yours, “do you mean that? And what did you mean? Do you want us to live together or live in the same city—” 

“I would like us to live together, if we are at that point then,” his gaze meets yours, a hint of concern dancing across his ever furrowed brow, “I don’t want to pressure you — so why don’t we discuss that when we get there?” 

“Sounds reasonable,” your fingers smoothing his brow, “but for the record,” you kiss the tip of his nose, “I want to live with you too,” and you bite back a grin at the joy that evaporates the hints of worry on his features, “along with our non-negotiable dozen cats and adorable poodle,” 

He laughs, an easy smile that pulled on his lips, as it always did with you, “I told you, I don’t take in strays aside from you,” you grab your pillow and hit him with it, as he laughs, “ow, ow, I’m joking! I’m sorry—” and you’re giggling as he rips the pillow from your grasp, only to roll you over onto your back, “it sounds nice — a home with you — waking up next to you, planning our days, spending our evenings,” he murmurs, “feels like a dream,” 

You pull him into a kiss — you’ve had many dreams about this man before you — far too many sleepless nights hoping for this reality, only to have it ripped away. But you wouldn’t wake up from this dream, the back of your knuckles grazing his cheek, not ever. 

“It won’t be — not for long.” 

~~~~

“Still not awake? You’ll be late if you wake up any later,” a murmured whisper in your ear stirs you awake, words prying you from your unconscious, as you groan softly, limbs and eyes still so heavy with sleep. But you know you have to get up, part ways with your far too warm bed and the tempting grasp of your blanket. 

“Don’t wanna wake up yet,” and a laugh rings in your ear, lips pressing soft kisses to your neck, “noooo, please, five more minutes,” 

He relents as you stretch your limbs and stare at the spinning ceiling fan above you — your thoughts similarly circling the drain — you had a lecture, a presentation, a student council meeting to tend to — not to mention a meeting with your advisor and the department head about your thesis. 

You turn and cuddle into his chest, pressing soft kisses along the space where his collarbone and chest meet, you smirk against his skin as he shivers, as he murmurs your name. 

“What? I’m trying to wake up,” as you lean up and meet him in a lazy kiss, fingers finding the back of his neck, “what better way than this?” 

Today was going to be long, but you supposed it was worth it only to end up here at the end of the day, as you turn and run your fingers through his black locks, “What do you have to do today? First day of a new semester,”

“Two lectures and our meeting later today, and maybe lunch with you?” And your lips curl, as you pull your phone off its charger to check your emails. 

“Really? Lunch? You don’t think that wouldn’t rally scandal across campus two members of the student council conferring outside their meetings on the first day of spring semester?” And he laughs, turning to face you, his short black hair fell in messy tangled in front of his forehead, “might be tempting political intrigue, Yuta,” 

And your boyfriend only smiles, jet black short locks falling in front of his forehead as his fingers brush your cheek before he leans over to press a sweet kiss to your forehead, “I think we’ll be alright,” his fingers intertwined with yours, “we’ve been pretty lucky, don’t you think?”

It was so simple, it was so easy, and it was so right. 

And your phone flashed with a reminder that caught your eye: Meeting with Suguru Geto — the first time you’d see him in several months, the first time since you had broken up, and the first time since he had broken your heart. 

And Yuta called your name, his eyes curious, “You okay?” And you only smile, locking your phone and the glaring reminder away, to lean over and kiss your boyfriend. 

“More than okay,” as you slowly sit up, “come on, we can’t be late, can we?”  

✧ a/n: this has been a long time coming - so when i planned part three with hannah, it was supposed to have three arcs -- this is only one of them lmao - i suppose i was a bit too ambitious with what i thought i could contain in one part. anyway sorry about this ending lmao :) love you - don't worry they will all have a happy ending

✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @difficultdomains, @diogodxlot, @that-goth-bisexual, @bash1018, @dazailover1900, @aliyalala, @ashhlsstuff, @blue041803, @mwtsxri, @bblgumfairy, @sukunasleftkneecap, @xo-evangeline, @fiannee, @teatreeoilll, @chalametet, @ryukaver, @d1gitalbathh, @saga3ious, @seventhcinema, @satosugucide, @your-l0nely-star, @sokkasmoon, @deegausserr, @hyookka, @oggsyy, @littlebitb, @higuchislut, @ti-mame, @itoshisins, @cerene-dipity, @onionsoop, @sinlillith, @izzythenaive, @akvrae, @lalacute03, @rxndou, @c-themoon, @xxrag-d0llxx, @hqtoge, @sugarxlumps, @hopeluna, @actualdeemon, @enchantedpendant, @serendididy, @soulstealercat, @neuviloved, @simply-a-s1mp, @satorusmochis, @maddietries,

[vivwritesfics]

Sweat, Baby, Sweat - MV1

Singapore is hot, incredibly hot. So, what do you do when you sweat through your shirt? You borrow your simp of a teammates shirt.

Max Verstappen x RB Driver!Reader

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Masterlist

Singapore was Y/Ns favourite track. It was taxing, but it was her favourite. High adrenaline and incredible heat. Anything could happen out there on the track.

If anywhere was going to end Red Bulls reign of dominance, it was Singapore. Y/N L/N and Max Verstappen had worked together, teammates in harmony, to keep the winning streak going.

On the rare instance Max wasn't on the podium, Y/N was in his place. More often than not they shared the podium, spraying the champagne with the biggest grins on their faces.

Only twice that year Y/N had gone out in Q2, not making it to Q3. When that happened, she couldn't face Christian, couldn't look at Max. Nobody was a bigger critic of Y/N than Y/N herself.

Singapore was hot, hot, hot.

As Max and Y/N did those little press videos (for the life of me I can't remember what they're called SOMEONE HELP PLS) Y/N was sweating. Several times while they filmed, she was pulling her shirt away from her neck, trying to get at least a little bit of air.

Sweat beaded on her forehead. She had long since taken off her Red Bull hat, too hot for that extra fabric on her head.

The press video was hard to get through. Y/N had gotten through at least three bottles of water before they finally finished. While they filmed, Max kept looking at her, frown on his face. Clearly, he was concerned.

Actually, all of the Red Bull team was concerned, but none more than him.

As soon as they'd finished filming, Y/N ran off to the bathroom. She did her business, splashed some water on her face and smelt the inside of her shirt.

It wasn't pleasant. The Red Bull shirt was such dark colours, no wonder Y/N was having trouble. She'd have to change before she and Max got on with the next round of press.

Y/N rushed off away from the press and the cameras. She ran by a concerned Max, who tried to grab her by the arm, and past the Red Bull team. "I'll be back in ten minutes," she said to Christian as she ran past.

Y/N made her way back to her hotel room. It wasn't too far away from the track, and she had almost all of her friends (aka, the other drivers) on the same floor as her.

When Y/N first started in F1, driving for Toro Rosso, there was a mixed response from fans. At that point, the fans were mostly older men and their sons. Their reactions were a mix of sexualising her and slut shaming her. Most had fears that she'd distract the rest of the grid by sleeping with them all before every race.

But the F1 Fans had grown used to her. And they loved her. They loved her as much as they loved Carlos and Pierre and Magnussen. They loved her as much as they loved every other driver on the grid.

Once in her hotel room, Y/N got changed into another Red Bull shirt. She didn't have many left, certainly not enough for the next three days of the grand prix (if things were keeping up the way they were).

After getting changed Y/N quickly checked her phone. Messages from Max and Christian, her manager reminding her of the next bit of press she had to do and her parents wishing her luck on the qualifying.

By the time Y/N got down to complete the press interview, she was already sweating. Anxiety bubbled up in side of her. What if she smelt bad? What if the cameras picked up on her pit stains?

Before the interview started, Max nudged her with his elbow. "Is everything okay?" He asked her, keeping his eyes trained forward.

Max had always been considerate when it came to Y/N. He knew what she had been through at the start of her career, the things she had to deal with from the fans. He was more aware than anybody that it was still going on. If Y/N was caught having fun with any of the drivers, they'd ridicule her online.

"Yeah, Max, I'm fine."

Y/N made it through the day in that shirt. She went to bed that night in only her underwear to try and keep cool.

By breakfast that morning she had already begun to sweat. Not through her shirt, not yet. She made it to lunch before she had to get changed.

Before the qualifying, Max pulled her to one side. Out of the prying eyes of any camera, Max grabbed her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. Once again, she wasn't wearing her hat, making it easier for him.

"Something is going on with you. You keep disappearing," he said to her, not loosening his grip. And he wouldn't until she told him what was going on.

Y/N shook her head. "I'm okay, Max, really."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"Just tell me!"

Letting out a sigh, Y/N looked up at him and pulled his hat from his head. She placed it on her own and smiled. "Is it hot in here, or is it just me?"

"It's just you."

Max's flirting had been really subtle since Y/N became his teammate. He hadn't wanted to toe the line, didn't want to receive the repercussions of trying to date his teammate.

Qualifying was horrible. Y/N swore in all the years before it had never been this bad. The heat was distracting and she was out in Q2, taken out by Lance fucking Stroll.

Y/N was fuming. There was only one person who could comfort her. And he was currently driving around the circuit with the fastest lap.

Y/N's post qualifying interview was short. She answered every question with one word answers, her face like a slapped ass. As soon as the interview was over she was off to her drivers room to sulk.

She was only granted two minutes to herself before there was a knock on the door. Christian didn't wait for an answer before he walked in. "How are you doing?" He asked her, leaning against the door.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. It was far too hot to think.

"Well, whatever it is, have it sorted by tomorrow," he continued. "And, come and celebrate with your teammate."

The next day went much the same. Y/N sweated through breakfast and, by the time she got to lunch, she was having to change her shirt.

But there was one problem. She didn't have any shirts she hadn't already sweated through.

With nothing else to do, Y/N tucked her hands into her armpits and walked towards her boss. "Christian," she muttered almost timidly. It wasn't like Y/N to be timid. There wasn't room for it, with her being a woman in the sport.

She took him into her drivers room and made an embarrassing confession. She couldn't look Christian in the face as she told him how much she had been struggling in the heat and that she had no more shirts left.

Christian pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "Well, I know for a fact Max has another shirt. I'll go and grab it for you," he said, sparing her the embarrassment of telling somebody else.

When Christian returned with a shirt for Y/N she was quick to change. She put on some more deodorant and pulled Max's shirt over her head. Lifting the collar to her nose she breathed in. Max. It smelled of Max. It smelled amazing.

When she walked out of her drivers room, there were stares. She wasn't much aware of the stares she was getting, her eyes searching for one person and one person only.

Max didn't know what to do when he saw her. The shirt was slightly too big, hanging down to her thighs. It was oversized on her, the short sleeves almost at her elbows. Wow. That was all Max could think. Just wow.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He watched as she lifted the collar of the shirt to her nose and smelt it yet again. His heart fluttered. Wow. Just wow.

Y/N turned around and spotted Max hidden behind a team of engineers. She wove her way around the engineers, approaching him. "Thanks for the shirt," she said with a smile.

Max didn't know how to respond. He kept staring at herm unable to take his eyes off of her. It was struggle before she was wearing his clothes, but now Max didn't stand a chance.

When Y/N took his hat from her head, he finally looked at her face. "It suits you," he managed to say. She was irresistible. It was almost too much for him.

No, it was too much for him.

"Fuck it," Max whispered under his breath. He placed his hands on her hip, catching Y/N off guard. Max wasted in time in leaning in. He pressed is lips to hers in a somewhat awkward kiss.

But it didn't take Y/N long to get with the programme. She pulled the hat from her head and wrapped her arms around his neck. Closing her eyes she deepened things, leaning into him.

When she finally pulled away, Max couldn't stop staring at her.

"I've wanted to do that since we became teammates," he whispered, taking the hat from Y/N and placing it on his head.

"What stopped you?"

[lewisvinga]

truly mothering | max verstappen x fem! reader

summary; news about y/n mysteriously retiring from mercedes shocked the f1 world in the middle of the 2020 season. what shocked them even more was when she appeared on the paddock four years later…

fc; various girls on pinterest

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1

note; requested ! mix of smau + written ! also one of the tweets was supposed to say 2017-2020 instead of 2016-2020 lol

word count; 700

masterlist !

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“Arabella, Angelina! Wait up!” Y/n exclaims as the nearly 4-year-olds run towards a familiar man clad in skinny jeans and a Red Bull shirt. She ignored the cameras on her and recorded as she ran across the paddock with heels to chase after her twin daughters.

“Papa!” The eldest of the two, Arabella, exclaims when she sees her father surrounded by a group of other drivers.

“Bella! Angel!” Max loudly exclaims, stepping back from the conversation to crouch down to the level of his daughters. Arabella wrapped her arms around him and Angelina quickly followed. The Dutch driver kissed their rosy cheeks as they giggled at their father's actions.

“You both look very pretty.” He said, pulling away for a moment.

“Mama dress us,” Angelina said in a softer voice compared to Arabella’s shout.

Y/n appeared moments later and was clearly out of breath from chasing the two. “Your daughters don’t listen, Verstappen. I cannot chase after them in heels.” She said out of breath, not noticing the shocked yet happy looks from the drivers.

“Oh my goodness, is that Arabella and Angelina?”

A familiar voice caused the two blonde girls to look up. “Uncle Lew!” The youngest, Angelina, exclaimed as she escaped from her father's grasp to hug the Mercedes driver.

Lewis was quick to scoop her up into his arms as Arabella also gave him a tight hug. He was Angelina’s favorite uncle, but Arabella’s favorite was actually his future teammate.

“Wow, you two are getting big!” Charles exclaimed, picking up Arabella who let out a laugh. “How old are you girls now?”

“Almost four!” The eldest replied as she held up her 4 fingers.

“Wow, Y/n, I’m surprised you actually came,” Lando said with a chuckle as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

They all knew the truth of why she retired. It was because she was 3 months pregnant with twins. Although she kept it a secret from the public, she was always close with the grid hence why they weren’t shocked about the twins but more so shocked that she’s back on the paddock.

“About time the twins know the paddock,” Y/n replied with a smile, watching the twins chat with their favorite uncles. “Plus, it’s nice to be back. It’s been ages. The girls should also know how cool their mama was.”

“Was? She still is.” Max corrected her.

“Yeah, but Mama doesn’t race anymore.”

“Mama drive with you?” Angelina asked Lewis. He let out a laugh, his eyes crinkling as he glanced at Y/n.

“Yeah, and she was a great teammate. But be careful, Y/n, Toto might convince you to replace me.”

His words caused her to laugh as she shook her head. “Gee, no thanks. These girls are tough to handle on their own. I don’t know if I could handle racing on top of that.” She sighs, reaching over to fix Angelina’s messy blonde curls.

“These babies? Difficult? Angelina and Arabella are angels!” Charles said in an exaggerated tone as he squeezed Arabella tightly.

Y/n leans in close to Charles and glances at Max, “Between you and me, they take after their father.”

“Hey!” The Dutch driver exclaimed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means go get ready for the race.”

At the reminder of the race, Lewis and Charles set the twins down and quickly said goodbye to also prepare. The rest of the drivers soon followed leaving the family of 4 alone.

Max turned to the smiley twins who stared at their favorite uncles walk away. His eyebrows furrowed up as he looked at Y/n who just let out a chuckle while shaking her head.

He focused back on the twins and crouched down again. “How about a hug and a kiss for your papa?” He suggested. The twins didn’t have to be told twice and were quick to run back into their fathers arms, each giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Papa, you win okay?” Arabella demanded as Angelina nodded in agreement. Max laughs, giving his daughters one last tight squeeze.

“If I win for you both and for Mama, we can have ice cream for dinner. How does that sound?”

His deal caused the two girls to cheer in excitement as Y/n sighed again. “You’re dealing with their sugar rush, Verstappen.”

“Not if I’m a race winner!”

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liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, and others !

yourusername: the girls loved seeing their papa win! ( but they loved seeing their favorite uncles more! ) congratulations on another win, my love! we’re all proud💗

tagged; maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1: i don’t like how they were looking at lewis and charles….

yourusername: they take after their father! they like pretty drivers 😁 especially angelina, she is team merc like her mama🙈

maxverstappen1: team merc? she’s all yours!

username: tears the twins are just like me fr

maxverstappen1: i love you❤️liked by yourusername !

username: MOTHER RETURNED AND SHE’S A FR MOTHER??

username: SHES BACKKK

username: she looks so good as a mom🥰🥰

username: SHE WAS DATING MAX THIS WHOLEEEE TIME??

username: bye so the baby f1 rumor was true except it was twins and w MAX???

carmenmmundt: such sweethearts 🥹🥹

francisca.cgomes: i know! such cuties💗

yourusername: ugh they love their auntie carmen & kika! they keep asking about you both😅💓

username: stoppp you guys rmbr when she said her biggest dream was becoming a mother 🥹🥹🥹

username: in her merc days💔💔 i love seeing her dream come true 🙁

lewishamilton: best part of this weekend was seeing the coolest gals on the paddock😎

yourusername: angelina won’t take her 44 merc hat off!!

charles_leclerc: my favorite verstappen are the twins

maxverstappen1: woah now….

yourusername: ( arabella is secretly team ferrari )

maxverstappen1: WHAT

username:will i get over this? no!

username: i am SHOCKED

username: from her party girl rookie era to being a mother, wow i love y/n🥹

mercedesamgf1: we miss the princess of the paddock!🩵

yourusername: and i miss my merc crew🤍

redbullracing: welcome arabella and angelina to the red bull crew! ❤️ liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1 !

username: in her birkin mom era

username: mother truly is mothering 😩😩