#omg that feeling when you see your old drawings again

[laynore-x]

jjba archives

[aceyalonso]

we're both winners, sweetheart - LEWIS HAMILTON

pairing : lewis hamilton x fem!reader | READ PART 1 HERE

summary : Y/n and Lewis going through the typical struggles of marriage (or in other words, the struggle of keeping up the charade of being married)

warnings : THE ANNOUNCEMENT IN THE STORY IS FAKE!!! swearing, kinda angsty, drinking, nail-biting, talking about sex (nothing too detailed), discussions of raising a family, 11-year age gap (reader is 28 years old), smut, hair pulling, unintentional overstimulation, choking, unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!)

face claim - gracie abrams

word count : 18.6k

song : agora hills - doja cat

a/n : this isn't proofread and SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, I WAS DEALING WITH SO MUCH PERSONAL STUFF OMG (this was supposed to be fore my 300 followers celebration thing | i might make a separate series for lyka and lando…………………………

July 8, Monday, 7:09 AM

Toto Wolff sits behind his desk, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern. Y/n and Lewis sit on the other side, both looking a bit sheepish and on edge. Toto looks at them, a moment of awkward silence hanging in the air before he finally speaks. "So," he begins, his voice cautious. "I have to say, this is... quite a situation you've gotten yourselves into."

Lewis clears his throat, his gaze meeting Toto's. "Yeah, we kind of... didn't see this coming," he admits, a hint of humor in his tone. "It was a very unexpected development, to say the least."

Y/n fidgets in her seat, her fingers massaging her forehead. She glances at Toto, his expression still unreadable. She tries to sound calm and rational, but her voice betrays her nervousness. "We weren't... fully sober when it happened," she offers lamely, as if it's an excuse.

Toto's eyebrow quirks at this revelation, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Not fully sober," he repeats, his tone heavy with incredulity. "You got married... not fully sober?"

Lewis grimaces slightly at the bluntness of his words but doesn't deny it. "That... that's correct," he affirms, his voice a bit strained. "We were both a bit... impaired when we tied the knot, let's put it that way."

Toto rubs his forehead, seeming to struggle with how to respond to this information. He gathers himself and looks at them again, his expression more somber now. "And what exactly were you doing that led to this... marriage?" he asks, his tone slightly stern.

Lewis and Y/n exchange a glance, both knowing the answer will likely not help their case. Lewis speaks up first, his voice a bit sheepish. "We, ah... we were at a club. A very lively club, if you understand."

Toto leans forward in his chair, expression now a mix of thoughtfulness and strategy. "Okay," he says, "this is clearly a situation that will need some serious damage control if it gets out. We'll need the PR team to make something, anything to spin this in a way that... minimizes the impact on your image, Lewis, and the teams' reputation."

Y/n coughs, breaking the silence in the room and drawing everyone's attention. She clears her throat, feeling a bit awkward under the weight of Toto and Lewis' gazes. "Um, forgive me," she apologizes, her voice a bit hoarse. "But what... what are you suggesting?"

Toto's eyes shift to her, his expression still calculating. "Well, we need to control the narrative," he explains. "We need to get ahead of any potential media storm and craft a story that… makes this look less like a drunken mistake and more like a… a romantic love story, perhaps."

Lewis can't help but scoff slightly at this, his mouth tugging into a wry smile. "A romantic love story, huh?" he muses, skepticism in his tone. "Do you really think anyone's going to believe that?"

Toto's gaze hardens at Lewis' flippant comment. "At this point, any narrative is better than the truth," he says, his voice firm. "We need to protect your image, Lewis, and the team's reputation. We need to control the damage, and that means spinning this in a way that… makes you both look as good as possible."

Y/n mutters under her breath as Toto and Lewis continue their discussion, unable to hide her growing concern. "My dad is going to kill me," she whispers, her voice a mixture of dread and resignation. She imagines her father's reaction to this news, the fury and disappointment in his eyes.

She finally speaks up, her mind turning to her own interests in this situation. "Wait," she interjects, cutting into Lewis and Toto's discussion. They both turn to her, surprised. "If we're going to go along with this… PR plan, I want something out of it too."

Toto and Lewis look at her, a bit taken aback by her unexpected request. Toto quirks an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "And what is it you want, exactly?" he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and caution.

Y/n takes a deep breath, her mind racing as she formulates her request. "I want this to benefit me too," she says, her tone firm but tentative. "I don't just want to be a pawn in this charade. I want my own image to be protected, and… I want it to have a positive impact on my future, on my family's company."

Toto and Lewis exchange glances, both surprised but also understanding the logic in her request. Lewis turns to her with slight admiration, a small smile playing on his lips. "That's… very practical of you," he says, his voice carrying a hint of respect.

Y/n's response is matter-of-fact, and her expression is a mix of determination and practicality. "Business is business," she repeats, her tone resolute. "If we're going to play this game, we might as well use it to our advantage, right?"

Toto nods slightly, appreciating her mercenary approach. "You're not wrong," he concedes, a grudging respect in his voice. "If we can use this situation to our mutual benefit, then perhaps it won't be a total disaster."

Lewis looks at Y/n, a gleam of admiration in his eyes at her business-mindedness. "You've got guts," he remarks, a smirk playing on his lips. "I can respect that."

Y/n chuckles a bit at his comment, the humor beginning to shine through despite the seriousness of their situation. "Well," she says with a small laugh, "if you want to get technical, that is one reason we got married, isn't it?"

Toto glares at Y/n, his gaze is stern and reprimanding. Y/n's eyes widen in response, and she immediately feels a pang of regret, realizing she has spoken out of turn. She mutters a quick "Sorry, too soon," her voice a whisper as she shrinks down in her seat.

Toto sighs, his expression softening slightly. "Let's remain professional, please," he reminds her, his tone a bit weary. "We need you to be present at the next Grand Prix, okay? Because by then we'll have the PR statement announced. Lewis can send you the details."

Y/n nods, a bit chastened but also understanding. "Okay," she apologizes again, her voice sincere. "I'll check my schedule if I'm free on... whatever day that is."

Toto nods in acknowledgment, his expression is still weary but slightly less stern. He turns his attention back to Lewis and continues the discussion, the mood in the room now more serious and focused.

With the focus of the conversation now shifted to Lewis and Toto, Y/n pulls out her phone, sensing that she isn't needed in the immediate discussion. She scrolls through her phone, trying to distract herself from the ongoing conversation. Occasionally, she glances up, listening to bits and pieces of the talk, but mostly just biding her time.

Y/n scrolls through her Twitter feed, her eyes scanning over the various news and Tweets. Suddenly, something catches her eye, causing her to stand up from her seat and exclaim a surprised curse word.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Y/n exclaims, her voice laced with disbelief and shock. She stares down at her phone, the blood draining from her face as she processes whatever she has just seen.

Toto and Lewis' heads snap in her direction at the outburst. They look at her, startled and alarmed by her reaction. Toto's brow furrows in concern, and he asks, "What is it? What's wrong?"

Y/n holds out her phone to Toto, her face still etched with shock and disbelief. Toto takes the phone from her, his eyes widening as he looks at the screen. Lewis leans over to look as well, his expression turning serious as he reads whatever is on the screen.

Toto's jaw clenches as he looks at the image, his expression hard and guarded. He glances at Y/n, then back at the phone screen, seeming to be processing the implications of this photo.

Lewis shakes his head, his jaw clenching in annoyance. "That's just perfect," he mutters sarcastically. "As if we didn't have enough to deal with already."

Toto continues scrolling through the tweet and reading comments from fans and media alike. He pauses, seeing several comments speculating that the woman in the photo is actually Y/n. His expression darkens with concern as he reads these comments.

He glances at Y/n, then at Lewis, and sighs deeply. "This is really bad," he says, his voice a low grumble. "If people start connecting the dots… we're going to have a PR nightmare on our hands."

Y/n is silently freaking out, her mind racing with thoughts and worries. She gnaws anxiously on her nails, a nervous habit she has when feeling overwhelmed.

Toto notes her distress but focuses on the practicalities of the situation for the moment, exchanging a few more words with Lewis.

Toto and Lewis quietly discuss the next steps, trying to come up with a damage control plan. Toto occasionally glances at Y/n, noticing her anxious behavior, but doesn't interrupt his conversation with Lewis for the moment.

Y/n suddenly pipes up, interrupting Toto and Lewis' conversation. "Wait," she interjects, her tone a bit frenzied. "What if we lied? What if… what if we said we've been married for almost a year? Like, we got married during the winter break?"

Toto's expression softens slightly as he contemplates Y/n's idea. "It's a possibility," he muses, his voice measured. "Getting married during the off-season would make sense, given the hectic schedule of the drivers. It would be more logical that Lewis would take time off for a wedding rather than a drunken elopement."

Lewis nods, seeing the logic in Y/n's suggestion. "It could work," he agrees, his tone less skeptical than before. "It would at least make the whole situation seem less impulsive and foolish, and more like… a planned commitment."

Y/n continues to gnaw anxiously on her nails, her eyes flitting between Toto and Lewis as she waits for them to make a decision. The weight of the situation, the impending lie they are about to concoct, hangs heavily on her mind.

Toto notices her distress but is still wrapped up in the discussion with Lewis, he decides to address it once they have a plan. "Let's work out the details," he says, his tone business-like. "We need to make sure our story is ironclad, and our timelines line up."

He turns to Y/n, his expression stern but not unsympathetic. "And I suggest you stop chewing on your nails," he remarks matter-of-factly. "We'll need to present a united, calm front, and that doesn't include nervous fidgeting."

Though Y/n stops biting her nails as Toto advises, her anxiety doesn't diminish. She transfers her nervous energy to her palms, starting to scratch and pick nervously at the skin, leaving slight crescent-shaped marks.

Toto notices her new anxious habit but doesn't address it directly at the moment. He and Lewis continue their discussion, fine-tuning the details of the lie they are going to spin. The atmosphere in the room remains tense, but there seems to be a rough plan coming together.

As the meeting draws to a close, Toto excuses himself to take a call from the head of PR. He motions for Y/n and Lewis to wait, and they remain silent in Toto's office as he steps out to take the call.

When Toto returns, he appears even more tense than before. He bids both Y/n and Lewis a rushed farewell, as he needs to deal with the situation with the head of PR. The two of them are left standing in the office, the atmosphere heavy with the weight of the day's events.

Lewis glances at Y/n, her face slightly pale and tired from the stress of the situation. He can tell that she's still anxious and tense, and he reaches out to gently squeeze her hand, offering a small gesture of comfort. "Hey," he says in a soft voice, "it's going to be okay. We're… we're going to get through this."

Y/n looks up at him, her eyes weary and full of worry. She tries to force a small smile, appreciating his attempt at reassurance. "I hope so," she replies, her voice a bit shaky. "I just… I hope we can pull this off. The lie…"

Lewis nods in understanding. "I know," he says, his tone sympathetic. "It's a lot to take on. But we don't have many options at this point. If we don't control the narrative, someone else will, and…" he trails off, the implication clear.

Y/n nods, knowing that he's right. "I get it," she mutters, her voice laced with resignation. "I just… I didn't sign up for all this, you know? All this… lying, and spinning stories, and… pretending."

Y/n lets out a humorless chuckle, her voice resigned. "You're telling me," she says sarcastically. "I didn't even sign up for this marriage, not while I was sober at least... and now I have to lie about it, pretend it was pre-planned, and… play the part of the dutiful wife."

She shakes her head, the absurdity of the situation weighing heavily on her shoulders. "It's just… surreal," she continues her tone a mix of disbelief and frustration. "A few days ago, I was a private person, living my life, and now I'm suddenly… a married woman, the center of a media shitstorm, and I'm expected to lie about it all like it's no big deal."

As they walk down the halls, Y/n is still somewhat zoned out, her mind preoccupied with the stresses and worries of the day. Lewis is right beside her, his hand occasionally on her lower back, providing silent moral support. They pass by other team members and staff, and more than a few curious glances and whispers follow them, aware of the situation unfolding but unwilling to speak openly.

They reach the parking lot, and Lewis turns to Y/n, his expression concerned. "Do you want me to drive you home?" he asks gently, his tone sincere. "You look exhausted."

Y/n nods, her fatigue clearly visible in her eyes and demeanor. "Yeah," she replies, her voice a weary whisper. "That would be great, thanks. I'm… I'm feeling pretty wiped out."

Lewis nods in understanding and leads her towards his car. The trip to her home is mostly silent, both of them too emotionally drained to talk much. Lewis occasionally glances at her, checking if she is okay. Y/n just gazes out the window, her thoughts far away.

He follows the directions given by Y/n to her apartment. The car ride is quiet, neither of them speaking much due to the weight of the situation on their minds. Once they arrive at her apartment, Lewis parks the car but doesn't immediately get out. Instead, he turns to her, his expression a mixture of worry and concern.

Lewis watches as Y/n unbuckles her seatbelt and reaches for the door handle. Before she can open the door, he turns to her and asks, "You're going to be okay, right? You'll be okay alone? I can stay with you if you want."

Y/n offers a weary smile, touched by Lewis's concern. "I… I'll be fine," she assures him, her voice soft but strained. "You don't need to stay. I just… need some time to process all this. Alone."

Lewis accepts her decision to be alone, though his expression remains worried. "Okay," he says softly, "Take care of yourself, alright? And… call me if you need anything. Anytime, okay?"

She nods slightly, appreciating his offer. "Thanks, I will," she replies. "I'll… I'll be fine. I just need a bit of space to clear my head."

Y/n exits the car, her movements slow and weary. The weight of the situation seems to hang heavily on her shoulders as she stands outside her apartment, looking up at the building.

Lewis watches her from the driver's seat, a mixture of concern and sadness on his face. He waits a moment to make sure she gets inside safely before driving off.

July 8, Monday, 10:37 AM

As Y/n begins to unlock her apartment door, she hears the familiar sound of her cat meowing on the other side. The sound is both a comfort and a further reminder of her responsibilities, and she feels a pang of fondness mixed with exhaustion.

After unlocking the door, she pushes it open and is immediately met with the soft sound of her cat rubbing against her legs, meowing for attention. Y/n bends down and scoops up the cat in her arms, holding it close to her chest, seeking comfort in its presence.

She holds her cat “Extra Virgin Olive Oil” (“Evoo” for short) close, the familiar warmth and weight of her furry companion a soothing presence. The ridiculousness of the name, a result of yet another drunken decision, momentarily brings a bittersweet smile to her lips.

Y/n walks into the apartment, closing the door behind her and making her way to the living room. She sits down on the couch, setting her bag on the floor before setting Evoo down on her lap and gently stroking his white fur. The soothing motion and rhythmic purring of the cat help to calm her tumultuous thoughts.

As Y/n sits on the couch, gently stroking her cat, she begins to speak to him in a soft, quiet voice. Although it’s not unusual for people to talk to their pets, there’s an undertone of vulnerability in her words, unloading her worries to a receptive but silent companion.

“Hi, baby,” she begins, her voice laced with exhaustion. “You won’t believe the day I’ve had.” She continues to idly pet the cat in her lap, the gentle motion seeming to soothe her as much as her cat. “I… I’ve gotten myself into a real mess, you know? Things are… complicated, to say the least.”

She leans her head back against the couch, her fingers continuing to absently run through the white cat’s fur. “I know you’re just a cat, and you probably don’t understand what I’m saying. But it helps, talking to you like this. It helps to get it all out, even if you can’t talk back.”

As Y/n continues to talk, the words flow out of her in a rushed confession. “And… that’s not even the craziest, Evoo,” she murmurs, shaking her head slightly. “I got married. Can you believe that?”

Her cat, as if responding to her words, looks up at her with its large eyes, seemingly bewildered by the revelation. It tilts its head as if asking “What?!”

Y/n lets out a soft, humorless chuckle at her cat’s reaction, continuing to stroke its fur. “Yeah, I know. It’s crazy, right?” she continues, her voice still heavy with exhaustion but holding a hint of irony. “I… I got married, and I don’t even remember most of it. Isn’t that just wild?”

She pushes aside her exhaustion and moves from the couch, placing Evoo gently on the nearby rug. She then remembers to change her cat’s water bowl, her actions automatic and routine. As she fills the bowl from the kitchen sink, she glances back at her cat, still resting on the rug.

“Don’t worry, bud,” she calls out, her voice slightly less weary, “He’s… he’s a good guy. I think.”

After refilling the water bowl, Y/n returns to the living room, her mind still swirling with the day’s events. She glances at Evoo, who is now lapping up the fresh water. For a moment, she wishes her life was as simple as a cat’s, where the most pressing concern was the next meal, not an unexpected marriage and a web of lies.

Y/n rubs his head one last time before straightening up. “Alright, buddy,” she says, her tone softer now that she’s attending to her cat’s needs. “I’m going to take a bath. Be a good boy while I’m gone, alright?”

She sits in the bathtub, the water warm and comforting, surrounding her tired body in a soothing embrace. An iPad is placed on a wooden bath tray near the edge of the tub, playing a movie that she’s only partially paying attention to.

In her hand, she holds a glass of lemon water, taking small sips every now and then as she there, letting the hot water work its relaxing magic.

The scent of lavender from a bath bomb fills the room, adding to the atmosphere of calm and tranquility. However, despite the peaceful setting, Y/n’s mind remains restless, the events of the day still weighing heavily on her thoughts. Despite trying to focus on the movie, she finds her mind wandering back to the marriage, the lie, the future.

As the stream from the bath billows around her, Y/n takes another small sip from her lemon water, her mind still spinning. The bath was intended to relax her, to wash away the tension of the day, but her thoughts stubbornly refused to let her rest. She tries to force herself to watch the movie, to focus on something other than her worries, but the events of the day keep flooding back.

The heat of the bath, combined with the subtle fragrance of the lavender, should be lulling her into a tranquil state, but her mind is too chaotic, too filled with worries and regrets. She takes another sip of her lemon water, the tangy taste reminding her of the sourness she feels inside, the unease that hasn't let her go since this whole mess began.

Y/n is wrapped in a towel, her wet hair sticking to her shoulders as she steps out of her bedroom and into the living/dining space. She's surprised to see Lyka walking in with a bright smile, a stark contrast to her own weary state.

Y/n, still wrapping the towel around herself, glances up at Lyka through wet strands of hair. "You seem unusually cheerful," she remarks, her tone slightly teasing as she reaches the kitchen and sets her glass down in the sink. Evoo brushes against her leg, seeking attention, and she gives the cat a gentle pat before turning back to Lyka. "What's up?"

Lyka's eyes sparkle with excitement and a hint of pride. "The best night ever," she echoes, her smile widening. "You won't believe it, Y/n. I hooked up with the DJ."

Y/n raises her brows in surprise and recognition. "Oh, Lando?" she asks, a hint of amusement in her tone. "I saw you dancing with him at the booth last night."

Lyka blinks in surprise when Y/n says Lando's name, her excitement now mixed with a touch of curiosity. "Yeah!- Wait, how do you know his name?" she asks, her expression a mix of surprise and intrigue.

Y/n settles onto a bar stool, opening the wrapper to a small piece of chocolate. She takes a small bite of the chocolate and continues talking to Lyka as she munches on the sweet treat. "I became friends with one of Lando's friends last night," she explains, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

Her playful smile fades as the memory of her marriage hits her like a ton of bricks. She chokes mid-sentence, the taste of chocolate turning bitter in her mouth. "I... um..." she stutters, her mind racing to find a way to explain.

"I... I have something to tell you," she manages to continue, her voice a bit strained. She sets the chocolate bar down, her appetite suddenly gone. "And... it's kind of a big deal. Like, a really big deal."

Lyka's expression changes as she senses the seriousness in Y/n's tone. Her eyes widened slightly, and she leaned in, her face replaced by a look of concern. "What is it?" she asks, her voice low and worried.

Y/n takes a deep breath, bracing herself for the reaction that's about to follow. "I..." she starts, her voice faltering as she struggles to find the right words. "I... I got married."

There's a moment of stunned silence as Lyka processes Y/n's confession. Her eyes widen even further, and her hand grips the countertop, her knuckles turning white. "You... you what?" she manages to stutter out, her voice a mix of shock and disbelief.

"And... it may or may not have been a friend of Lando's...." Lyka's eyes widen even further when Y/n clarifies that the person she married is a friend of Lando. "Wait..." she starts, her mind spinning with the implications. "You married one of Lando's friends? Who..."

Y/n hesitates for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She swallows hard, preparing herself for the fallout. "Lewis," she finally manages to say. "I... I married Lewis."

As Lyka tries to remember if Lando mentioned anything Lewis, a flicker of recognition appears in her eyes. "Wait..." she says, her soft soft as she recalls the conversation with Lando. "Lando mentioned something about a party of celebrate one of his friends' win. Was that Lewis?"

Y/n doesn't trust herself to speak, so she just nods in affirmation. She can see the pieces falling into place in Lyka's mind, her friend digesting the information with a mix of surprise and confusion.

Lyka lifts her hands in a gesture of disbelief, her voice filled with a mixture of amusement and incredulity. "I swear, the universe has a weird sense of humor when it comes to you and alcohol," she says, shaking her head. "Seriously, the weirdest things happen to you when you're drunk. It's like you're attracting weirdness or something."

As Y/n gets up to change, she can't help but notice that Lyka is wearing a hoodie she doesn't recognize. She decides to bring it up later, as they have plenty to discuss when they regroup in the kitchen.

"Alright, let's change and meet here in five," Y/n suggests, her tone a bit lighter now. "We'll compare our crazy nights, and you can tell me about your new hoodie too," she adds with a smile.

Lyka flushes furiously as Y/n hints at the hoodie she's wearing, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. "Oh my god, shut up," she giggles, trying to hide her embarrassment. "It's just a hoodie, okay?"

Y/n grins knowingly as she responds, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, it's Lando's hoodie," she teases, emphasizing the name for effect. "And you're blushing like crazy."

Lyka buries her face in her hands, still blushing profusely. "Ugh, I swear, you're the worst," she groans, half-heartedly swatting at Y/n "Why do you have to point it out like that?"

Y/n laughs, enjoying the sight of her flustered friend. "Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing," she says, her voice filled with amusement. She moves towards her room, still smiling at Lyka's reaction. "You get changed, and I'll do the same. Meet you in the kitchen in five."

Y/n sits next to Lyka, a soft smile on her face. As they settle into their seats by the counter, Lyka begins recounting her night with Lando. Her cheeks are still a little flushed, betraying her excitement.

"So, about last night..." she says, her voice slightly giddy, "I had the best night ever with Lando."

Y/n takes a chip from the bowl on the counter, chewing on it as she listens to her friend's story. "Yeah?" she prompts. encouraging Lyka to continue. "Tell me more. What made it the best night ever?"

Lyka emphasizes her point, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "His hands were skilled," she repeats, her voice lowered to a whisper. "Seriously, Y/n, you have no idea. He was so fucking good."

"His touches, his moves, everything just... wow," Lyka continues, the memory clearly relived in her mind. She takes a sip of her water, her gaze distant for a moment before she focuses on Y/n. "I swear, it was like he knew exactly what to do, and how to do it."

Lyka's excitement reaches a whole new level as she starting bouncing in her seat. "Oh my god," she exclaims, her voice a mix of shock and excitement. "When he was-" She suddenly breaks off, her words catching in her throat.

She cuts off her own sentence, biting her lip as if holding back a secret. There's a mixture of delight and surprise on her face. "He... he was just-" she stammers, struggling to put the experience into words. "It was incredible," she finally manages, her voice full of awe.

Y/n listens intently, smiling at her friend's enthusiasm. She can tell that whatever Lando did, it clearly surpassed Lyka's expectations. "Incredible, huh?" she teases, raising a brow. "Sounds like Lando's got some serious skills there."

Lyka takes a moment to fan herself, the memory of her night with Lando still fresh in her mind. "Yeah... yeah I was," she says, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I was shaking like a leaf by the time it was done."

She looks down at her hands as if reliving the sensation. "It was tense," she adds, shaking her head in disbelief. "Like, seriously intense. I don't think I could have handled much more."

Lyka lets out a shaky breath, a mixture of pleasure and disbelief in her voice. "Yeah," she replies, her face still flushed. "He just... he just kept going, even when I thought I couldn't take anymore. It was... it was too much, but in the best way possible, you know?"

She takes another sip of her water, her body still feeling the after-effects of Lando's touches. "He knew exactly what he was doing," she adds, a hint of admiration in her voice. "I've never experienced anything like it before."

Y/n can't resist teasing a little more, a sly smile on her face. "Well," she says, raising a brow, "Maybe Lando was just making up for the disappointing performance your ex put on."

Lyka, still flushed and giggling, enthusiastically agrees with Y/n's assessment. "ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY!" she exclaims, her voice loud and clear. "Lando was the complete opposite of my ex. He made up for that shitshow tenfold."

She takes a moment to catch her breath, her face still glowing. She can't help but gush about Lando's attributes, her voice filled with awed excitement. "I swear, he was HUGE," she says, her voice filled with excitement.

Y/n laughs, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and amusement. "Shh, shh, keep it down," she shushes her friend, laughing as she glances toward the wall shared with their neighbors. "The whole building doesn't need to know about Lando's... size."

Lyka, still caught up in the memory of her night with Lando, continues to rave about his skills and his 'size' ''I don't even know how to describe it," she gushes, her voice filled with admiration. "There's just... no comparison. Lando's in a league of his own."

She's so caught up in her praise that she practically glows. "I never knew it could be like that," she admits, her flushed cheeks a clear indication of her satisfaction. "He knows how to handle everything."

Lyka's voice softens as she reflects on the night, her face now taking on a more tender expression. "He was so gentle and caring afterward," she says, a hint of fondness in her tone. "It was like he knew exactly what I needed."

Y/n, curious about the tender side of Lando, asks how exactly he was caring after their night together. Lyka's expression softens even more as she continues. "He was really sweet," she explains. "He held me close, and told me how amazing I was. Kept asking if I was okay, and if I needed anything. Just really took care of me, you know?"

"Oh, and he left me a shit ton of hickeys too," Lyka mentions, causing Y/n to involuntarily spit out her drink in surprise. Y/n's eyes widen as Lyka casually mentions that detail. She was taking a sip of her drink at the same moment, causing her to almost choke on the liquid, spurting it out in surprise. "Hickeys?" she exclaims, her voice slightly strained. "Lando gave you hickeys?"

Lyka grins widely, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She shifts the collar of her shirt to reveal several small, purplish marks on her collarbone and neck. "Yeah," she says, her voice a bit smug. "He marked me up, good."

Lyka lets out a cheeky giggle, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, yeah," she confirms, her voice slightly lower. "He left some on my thighs too, but Lando said those were for his eyes only."

Y/n can't help but stare at her friend in disbelief. Her mouth is still slightly agape, her eyes wide as she processes the information. "For his eyes only, huh?" she manages to say, her voice a mix of disbelief and amusement.

She shakes her head, a little bemused by Lando's possessiveness. "Sounds like Lando wants to keep you all to himself," she teases, grinning. "No sharing allowed."

Lyka grins, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, absolutely," she confirms, giggling. "We made a deal. He wants to be my friend with benefits," she says, using air quotes, "And I just have to look pretty and make him feel good." She adds with a coy smile, paraphrasing Lando's words.

Lyka brightens up even more, her voice eager and excited. "Oh, and I'm going to his next race too!" she exclaims, bouncing a little in her seat. "I'll be in the McLaren garage, of course. Lando said he wants me there."

Y/n nods, a smile on her face. "I'll be there too, slightly against my will," she confirms, "But I'll be in the Mercedes garage." She glances at her friend, a spark of curiosity in her eyes. "This is gonna be fun, watching the race from opposite ends of the garage."

"So... what about your night?" Lyka asks curiously, looking at Y/n with amusement through her eyelashes.

Y/n takes a moment, her mind flashing back to the events of her night. "My night…" she muses, her voice a little dreamy. "Well, it was… eventful, to say the least."

She lets out a soft chuckle, the memory of the night still fresh in her mind. "So, I was on the dance floor, just dancing, and Lewis came up behind me," she recalls, her voice laced with a hint of excitement.

Y/n glances at Lyka before continuing, her voice taking on a wry tone. "Yeah, it was around the time you went to dance with Lando," she says, clearly amused by the coincidence. "Lewis just appeared out of nowhere, tapped me on the shoulder, and we started dancing."

She smiles, her cheeks slightly flushed as she describes the night. "We were talking, flirting a bit," she says, her voice holding a hint of excitement. "He bought me drinks at the bar, and we just… connected, I guess."

Y/n lets out a light laugh, her cheeks flushing a little at the memory. "Yeah, so… eventually… we may have found a secluded spot and, you know, things got a bit heated," she explains, a coy smile playing on her lips. "And I may or may not have told him I'd marry him as a joke."

She shakes her head, still amused by the audacity of her own words. "I don't even know where it came from," she says. "Just a spur-of-the-moment thing, you know? A little drunken banter."

Y/n continues, her voice filled with amusement. "Well, Lewis just chuckled when I said it," she recounts. "I mean, he knew I was just joking, right? But then he just… playfully agreed, you know? Like, he said something like, 'Sure, why not? Let's get hitched.' It was all just goofing around, really."

Y/n sees the look on Lyka's face and knows her friend is judging her, but it's in a friendly way. She laughs, shaking her head. "Hey, don't give me that look," she says, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. "It was just a joke, you know that, right?"

Lyka gives Y/n a sly smile, her voice filled with mock disbelief. "A joke that turned into an actual marriage," she repeats, her tone dripping with cheeky sarcasm. "Wow, I hope Lewis doesn't mind waking up to your morning breath every day."

Y/n playfully smacks Lyka's arm, laughing. "Hey, my morning breath isn't that bad," she protests, her voice light with feigned offense.

She then swats at Lyka again, her smile broadening. "And for the record, I would make an amazing wife," she boasts, her voice half-joking, half-serious.

Y/n straightens her shoulders, posing theatrically. "I'd be, like, the perfect trophy wife. I'd look good standing next to Lewis during his press conferences and podium interviews."

Lyka laughs out loud at Y/n's confident declaration. "Oh my god," she snickers, her voice filled with mirth. "You're actually picturing yourself as a trophy wife? Standing there, looking pretty while Lewis talks about racing strategy and tire compounds?"

Y/n grins, raising a brow at Lyka. "And what about you?" she asks a hint of challenge in her voice. "Can you see yourself doing the same for Lando? Standing there, looking gorgeous, while he talks about car setup and track conditions?"

Lyka nods with conviction, a sparkle in her eyes. "Absolutely, yes," she affirms. "I can totally picture myself looking all cute and pretty, with a whole wardrobe of amazing outfits courtesy of Lando's earnings. It's all about the perks, you know?"

She grins mischievously. "Besides, watching Lando on the track, all focused and intense, and then coming home to spoil me rotten? Sounds pretty damn good to me."

Y/n nods, her lips curving into a smile. "You know what, you have a point there," she admits, her voice laced with a touch of envy. "Getting to watch Lewis race, all focused and competitive, and then having him come home and… well, show me just how much he appreciates me… yeah, I could get used to that."

She quirks an eyebrow, glancing at the calendar. "Alright, when's the next race again?" she asks, her voice slightly impatient. "I need to check if I'm free that day, cause Toto- his team principal, I believe? said that I have to be there. Some PR bullshit."

Y/n pulls out her phone, quickly searching for the race schedule. "Lemme see," she murmurs, scrolling through her screen. "There we go. The next race is two weeks from now... Let's see… yep, I'm free that day."

She puts her phone away, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "All clear," she affirms. "I'll be there, cheering on Lewis every lap of the way."

Lyka smirks, her voice dripping with playfully sarcastic praise. "Oh, you're such a good wife," she teases. "Making sure you're always available to support your husband's racing career. That's true devotion right there."

Y/n laughs, returning the teasing with a sly grin. "And what about you?" she asks, raising a brow. "Ready to be Lando's arm candy, showing off all those designer outfits he'll buy you?"

Lyka nods vigorously, her face already picturing the fancy outfits she'd wear. "Oh, absolutely," she declares, her voice oozing with enthusiasm. "I'm so ready to be Lando's arm candy, strutting around in all the gorgeous designer outfits he'll spoil me with."

Lyka takes a moment to swallow her chip and then adds, "And hey, speaking of Lando's stuff, I actually need to return that hoodie he lent me. Gotta make sure he gets it back."

She grins mischievously. "Although, maybe I'll 'accidentally' keep it a day or two longer just to remind him of me."

Y/n tsks, shaking her head in mock disapproval. "Oh, wow," she chuckles, her tone laced with feigned surprise. "That's such harlot behavior, keeping a guy's hoodie just to remind him of yourself."

Lyka looks at Y/n in exaggerated shock, her mouth dropping open in mock offense. "Harlot? Really?" she exclaims, her voice filled with laughter. "Out of all the words you could've chosen, you went with harlot! That's a bit harsh, don't you think?"

Y/n shrugs, unable to keep a straight face. "What? It fits!" she replies, her voice laced with mirth. "You're deliberately keeping his hoodie longer just to keep his attention on you. If that isn’t harlot behavior, then I don't know what is."

Lyka rolls her eyes dramatically, a playful grin on her face. "Oh, please," she exclaims, batting her eyelashes dramatically. "It's not harlot behavior, it's strategic flirting. There's a difference."

Y/n chuckles, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay," she concedes, her voice still tinged with laughter. "You can call it whatever you want. Strategic flirting, friendly teasing, whatever floats your boat."

July 8, Monday, 4:51 PM

Y/n is in the middle of preparing dinner, peeling potatoes and chopping veggies, when her phone buzzes with a message from an unknown number. She glances down at it curiously, setting down her knife for a moment.

After a few moments, Y/n finishes replying to Lewis' message, a small smile on her face. She sets down her phone, the conversation with Lewis momentarily distracting her from her cooking preparations.

Y/n continues chopping vegetables, her hands moving deftly as she's suddenly interrupted by the sound of Lyka's phone ringing. She stops for a moment, looking up as Lyka grabs her phone.

Lyka's face lights up with surprise as she answers the phone, hearing Lando's voice on the line. "Oh! Hey, Lando," she replies, her voice already cheerful.

Y/n can't help but smile at Lyka's reaction, hearing the change in her tone. She continues chopping vegetables as she listens to Lyka's side of the conversation.

Lyka's voice is filled with excitement as she responds to Lando's question. "Yes, I'll get the tickets for the flight myself," she confirms, her voice slightly giddy. "I'll be there by Friday, no problem."

Her face flushes with a rosy hue as Lando brings up the subject of his hoodie. She lets out a soft, nervous chuckle and replies, a hint of playful charm in her voice, "Ah, about the hoodie… Well, I was actually thinking I might hang onto it a little longer."

Y/n, unable to contain her amusement, lets out a soft giggle, drawing Lyka's attention. She glances at her friend, a sly smile on her face.

Lyka continues the conversation with Lando, her voice taking on a flirtatious tone as she playfully teases him. "You know, if you miss the hoodie that much, you'll just have to come and get it from me yourself…"

Y/n stops mid-preparation, her eyes widening as she eavesdrops on Lyka's conversation. She gapes at her friend for a brief moment, surprised by the boldness of her response.

She can't help but chuckle to herself, thinking, "Lyka's really turning on the charm. Lando's going to be all over her when he gets that hoodie back…"

Lyka continues the conversation, her voice dropping to a sultry tone. "It seems like you miss this hoodie more than you miss me, if you're that desperate to get your hoodie back, maybe we should meet up tomorrow…"

Lyka smiles widely as Lando agrees to meet up the next day. "Great, I'll send you my address in a moment," she replies, her voice a mix of anticipation. "I need to go now, though. But I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

Y/n watches the exchange with a mixture of amusement and surprise. She can't help but shake her head in disbelief as Lyka ends the call, a cheeky smile on her face.

"Wow," Y/n says, her voice filled with admiration. "You really have Lando wrapped around your finger, don't you?"

Lyka grins, her cheeks still flushed with a hint of a blush. "What can I say? I have my ways of persuasion," she replies, a coy smirk on her face.

Y/n laughs at Lyka's response, amused by her friend's confidence. She continues preparing dinner, adding the ingredients to the pot and stirring it together in the pot, her mind temporarily preoccupied as she focuses on her cooking task. The kitchen emits a warm, savory aroma, the spices blending together to create a mouthwatering scent.

Y/n is suddenly interrupted by the sound of Lyka spitting out her tea, accompanied by an annoyed meow from Evoo. She looks up, slightly startled, setting down her spoon to look over at her friend.

"Whoa, what happened?" Y/n asks, looking at Lyka, who's wiping her mouth with a napkin. Her eyes move to the cat, who's also looking slightly grumpy from the unexpected spray.

Lyka, still catching her breath, quickly points at Y/n's phone, which is on the kitchen counter. "Check your Instagram," she says urgently, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Y/n grabs her phone from the kitchen counter, a look of curiosity on her face. She swipes through her notifications and opens Instagram, as per Lyka's instruction.

Y/n scans through her Instagram timeline and her heart skips a beat as she catches the first article. The statement from Mercedes about her marriage to Lewis is plastered right on her screen. She reads through it, disbelief and surprise etched across her face.

mercedesf1

liked by lewishamilton, george_russell, lyka.val and 563,447 others mercedesamgf1 Following the recent victory at Silverstone, unauthorized images of one of our drivers and his private life have been leaked. We respect our driver’s privacy and are addressing the situation with the seriousness it deserves. Here’s Toto’s reaction to the matter.

user44 HE'S WHAT? FOR HOW LONG?

lewishamiltonfan446427 who the fuck is y/n.... ↳ george.jpg i just searched her up, she used to be a model! she's still active on social media so it isn't that hard to find her account

mercluvr I'M SORRY???

nepobbylver ms rabbit has fainted.

y/nfan1 I'M GOING INSANE??????????????????????????

lewis.hamiltons.gf does this mean i have to change my username...?

y/nfan2 WHEN DID THEY MEET WHAT

y/nfan3 WHEN WHERE WHAT HOW WHEN HUH

rockstarlewis this is some 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 shit dude

wtfmerc so it WAS y/n

A mix of emotions floods through her as she continues reading. She feels a wave of shock, followed by a pang of confusion. Y/n grips her phone tighter, her eyes glued to the words on the screen.

Y/n looks up from her phone, her voice quivering with surprise and a hint of concern. "I didn't know they were releasing this statement today," she replies, her words tinged with a mixture of confusion and anxiety.

Her voice becomes more frantic, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a rush. "It was just an idea I pitched! The whole 'married for 6 months' thing- it wasn't supposed to be taken seriously, not this soon at least!"

She paces around the kitchen, her heart pounding with worry and uncertainty. "I never thought they'd actually make a statement about it without speaking to me first," she mutters, her voice betraying her growing anxiety.

As Y/n continues to pace anxiously, biting on her nails, Lyka takes action. She stands up from the counter and gently grasps Y/n's shoulders, trying to anchor her in the moment.

"Hey, hey," Lyka says in a soothing tone. "Take a deep breath, okay? Panicking isn't going to help the situation."

Y/n nods, trying to steady her racing thoughts. She takes a few deep breaths, letting the air fill her lungs and gradually slowing down her frenzied heartbeat.

Y/n is snapped out of her anxious thoughts as her phone rings loudly in her hand, jolting her back to reality. She glances down at the screen, wondering who could be calling her at this moment.

Her eyes widen as she sees her father's name on the caller ID. She stares at the screen for a moment, her mind swirling with thoughts. Taking another deep breath, she swipes to answer the call.

"Hello?" she says, her voice slightly shaky as she brings the phone to her ear.

She listens intently as her father's voice comes through the other end of the line, waiting anxiously for whatever he has to say. Y/n's father's voice is stern but concerned. "Y/n," he begins, "Have you seen the statement released by Mercedes?"

Y/n holds the phone a little tightly, her heart rate increasing again. "Dad," she begins, "Yes, I just saw it on Instagram. But listen, it's not what it seems-"

Her father's voice cuts her off, filled with disbelief and disappointment. "Not what it seems? It says you've been married to Lewis for 6 months. Explain that."

Y/n hesitates for a moment, her mind racing to come up with a viable explanation. Feeling cornered, she decides to go along with the lie, knowing that the truth will lead to even more disappointment and shame from her father.

"Okay, okay," she says, her voice quivering slightly. "Yes, it's true we got married. But Dad, please understand, it wasn't a spur-of-the-moment thing. We wanted to keep it quiet, that's why we didn't tell anyone right away…"

Y/n listens to her father's scolding, her heart sinking further with each question. "I know, I know," she responds, her voice filled with guilt and remorse. "I should have told you sooner. But Dad, you have to understand, Lewis and I wanted to keep things private at first. The public attention can be overwhelming, and we wanted to enjoy our newlywed bliss in peace…"

Y/n feels a lump form in her throat as she hears the disappointment in her father's voice. This is a first for her—she's never had to lie to her father before, and the guilt starts to weigh heavily on her heart. Fresh tears well up in her eyes, but she tries to maintain her composure on the phone.

Lyka sees the tears in Y/n's eyes and immediately takes notice, her face filled with concern. She walks over to her friend and starts rubbing her back soothingly, a silent show of support and solidarity.

Y/n's father continues to press, his tone slightly more subdued now, "And when can we meet Lewis? Your mother deserves to meet him as soon as possible. We can't just be finding out about your husband on social media, for goodness sake!"

Y/n swallows hard, the weight of the lie becoming more palpable. She racks her brain for an answer, trying to come up with a believable timeframe. "Uh, well, we're actually not together right now... he's still... with his family...," she says, her voice still shaky. "Maybe… Maybe this week? Or when their summer break begins?"

Her father remains silent for a moment, mulling over the proposed timeline. "Very well," he finally responds, his voice still edged with disappointment. "We'll plan something for next week then. I expect a proper introduction and explanation. No more secrets, understood?"

Y/n nods, even though her father can't see her. "Yes, Dad, understood. No more secrets," she mutters, her voice tinged with a mix of guilt and resignation.

After the call ends, Y/n closes her phone, a deep sigh escaping her lips. The weight of the lie and the disappointment from her father hang heavily on her shoulders. She feels like a guilty teenager all over again.

Lyka sees the distress etched on Y/n's face and quickly strides over to her, wrapping her arms around her in a comforting hug. "It's going to be okay," she whispers softly, trying to soothe her friend's troubled heart.

Y/n takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts and trying to rein in her emotions. She then looks over at Lyka, a newfound determination etched on her face. "I need to let Lewis know about the situation with my father," she says, her voice steadying slightly.

She swiftly opens her phone and navigates to Lewis' contact. She knows she needs to inform him about the recent turn of events. Her fingers grip the phone tighter as she starts typing a message to him.

Y/n closes her phone and sighs, her body still feeling the emotional toll from the conversation with her father. Seeing that Lyka has taken over the cooking, Y/n moves to a nearby chair and plops down, still mulling over the recent developments.

While sitting on the chair, she takes a moment to mentally process everything that has happened. Her mind is filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions - the lie, the need to maintain the facade, the guilt of deceiving her father, and the impending meeting with Lewis and her parents.

July 14th, 5:34 PM

The two sit in the car, the engine idling in the driveway of Y/n's childhood home. The atmosphere in the car is tense, and both of them are dreading the upcoming meeting with Y/n's parents.

She takes a deep breath, stealing a glance at Lewis before speaking up. "Okay, here's the plan," she begins, her voice a mixture of conviction and anxiety.

Y/n goes over the 'story' again, recapping the timeline of their 'relationship.' "We met during my vacation- your Christmas break of 2022, and became friends for about two months before you started courting me for three more months," she reminds Lewis. "We started dating after that, dated for five months, got engaged for around two months, and then got married in mid-January. Got it?"

Lewis nods, taking in the timeline and details of their fictional relationship. He's clearly trying to commit everything to memory, fully aware of the importance of maintaining a consistent story in front of Y/n's parents.

Y/n takes another deep breath, her hand fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Just remember, the key is to stay consistent and make it believable," she adds, her voice a tad shakier than before.

Lewis reaches out and takes Y/n's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We can do this," he says, his voice filled with determination and reassurance. "We just have to stick to the story and not let our nerves get the better of us."

Y/n nods, reassured by Lewis' words and the gentle squeeze of his hand. "You're right," she says, her voice steadier now. "Stick to the story, stay cool, and we'll get through this."

Lewis turns off the ignition, and the engine falls silent. Both of them unbuckle their seatbelts and get out of the car. Standing in the driveway, they take a moment to glance at each other, preparing themselves for the upcoming interaction.

Y/n's heart pounds in her chest as she and Lewis approach the front door. The familiar surroundings of her childhood home bring back a mixture of emotions—nostalgia, nervousness, and the weight of the lie they're about to perpetuate.

She reaches out and rings the doorbell, the sound echoing through the peaceful neighborhood. They wait for a few moments, the anticipation growing with each passing second.

The maid opens the door and greets Y/n and Lewis warmly. "Hello, welcome," she says with a friendly smile. "Your father is still in his study doing some paperwork and your mother is helping the chefs with the dishes. They should be finished soon."

Y/n thanks the maid and glances at Lewis, a hint of anxiety in her eyes. She leads him into the house, the familiar scent of her childhood home filling her nostrils.

She takes Lewis' hand and leads him into the living room. The spacious room is tastefully decorated with a mix of antique and modern furniture, a reflection of her family's taste and style. She guides him to a cozy sofa and motions for him to take a seat.

As they settle onto the sofa, the maid follows behind them and asks, "Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee, tea, water, perhaps?"

Y/n turns to the maid and responds, her voice a bit tense. "I'll have cold water, please. Thank you."

She then turns to Lewis, trying to keep a semblance of normalcy despite her inner turmoil. "Would you like anything, Lewis? Water, coffee, tea…?"

Lewis looks at Y/n and then at the maid and replies, "I'll have tea, please. Thank you."

As the maid exits the living room Lewis sidles closer to Y/n on the sofa, draping an arm around her in a comforting gesture. He leans in and whispers something in her ear, his voice low and barely audible to anyone else.

In a quiet voice, Lewis whispers to Y/n, "Are there any cameras in the living room?" He asks the question, his gaze subtly glancing around for any visible signs of surveillance equipment.

Y/n is slightly taken aback by Lewis' arm around her, but she collects herself quickly. In a hushed tone, she whispers back, "Yes, there are cameras. They're hidden in various spots around the room, my father has access to the cameras from his study."

Lewis places a soft kiss on Y/n's temple and then pulls her closer, his voice a low murmur. "I know, I probably should have asked for your permission before doing that, but I thought it might help our act. For all we know, your father could be watching us on those cameras at this very moment."

Y/n can feel her heart rate increase a bit at Lewis' proximity and his reasoning behind the kiss. She glances at the hidden cameras, a hint of nervousness in her eyes. She nods subtly, understanding the necessity of keeping up the act.

The two of them maintain their close position on the couch, trying to appear as a married couple who are comfortable in each other's company. Y/n glances around discreetly, wondering how her father is handling the surveillance footage.

Just as they are about to continue their conversation, the maid re-enters the living room, carrying a tray with their drinks. She sets the tray down on the coffee table in front of the sofa, placing a glass of cold water next to Y/n and a steaming cup of tea next to Lewis.

The maid arranges the drinks on the coffee table, the sound of the glass clinking against the tray cutting through the silence in the room. She then smiles politely at them before discretely exiting the living room again, leaving Y/n and Lewis alone with their beverages.

Y/n watches the maid exit, her heart rate slightly elevated. She picks up her glass and takes a small sip of water, her mind racing with a million thoughts. The sound of Lewis' tea cup being placed back on the coffee table breaks the silence, drawing her attention back to him.

As Y/n starts to bite her nail, Lewis reaches out and gently moves her hand away from her mouth, his gaze meeting hers with reassurance. "Hey," he whispers "It's going to be okay. I'm here with you, every step of the way. We'll get through this together, alright?"

The simple act of Lewis gently stopping her from biting her nail serves as a small anchor, bringing Y/n back from the edge of her nervousness. She glances at him, his steady presence offering a small sense of comfort. She nods subtly, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and anxiety.

Y/n's breathing remains somewhat labored, the anxiety still coursing through her. Lewis takes her hand in his and begins rubbing his thumb against hers, a soothing motion that seems to ease her nerves, if only a little.

As she gazes at their intertwined hands, her eyes move up to the rings and tattoos adorning Lewis' fingers. The sight of them adds another layer to their carefully crafted pretense, the evidence of her supposed marriage right there on display for anyone who looks closely enough.

Their moment is interrupted as Y/n's mother walks into the living room. Her mother's presence brings Y/n back to reality, and the nerves come rushing back. She straightens up immediately, letting go of Lewis' hand to brush off any dust on her shirt and pants.

Y/n's mother enters the living room, her eyes lighting up as she sees her daughter and Lewis sitting together on the sofa. A warm smile graces her lips as she approaches them. "Hello, you two," she greets them, her voice filled with genuine affection.

As Y/m/n approaches, Y/n rises from the sofa, her movement slightly jerky due to her nerves. She tries to force a smile, hoping to appear normal, but the tension in her body is palpable.

Lewis follows Y/n as she nods, his hand gently moving to rest on her back, a small comfort in the face of the inevitable confrontation with her father.

He extends his hand towards Y/n's mother, his demeanor is polite and friendly. "Hello, it's lovely to meet you in person," he says with a warm smile. Y/n watches the interaction, her heart thumping loudly in her chest.

The introduction occurs, Lewis offering his hand in greeting and Y/n's mother shaking it warmly. Y/n stands nearby, the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears drowning out almost everything else.

As Lewis shakes her mother's hand and exchanges greetings, Y/n's heart pounds louder in her ears. Her eyes flicker between the two, the casual interaction between her mother and Lewis standing in stark contrast to the turmoil of emotions churning within her.

Y/n watches as Lewis engages in pleasantries with her mother, and the polite exchange is a far cry from the anxiety that grips Y/n's insides. The sound of their voices and the sight of their interaction blur into the background as Y/n struggles to keep herself together.

Y/m/n gestures towards the dining room, saying, "Follow me to the dining room, please. Your father will join us in about five minutes." With a nod, Y/n and Lewis follow silently behind her, the nerves tightening in Y/n's stomach.

Lewis takes Y/n's hand again, his touch providing a source of comfort in the midst of the mounting tension. With a subtle gesture, he begins rubbing his thumb against hers, offering a silent reassurance.

The gentle, soothing motion of Lewis rubbing her thumb helps to ground Y/n, and the simple action is a small balm against the anxiety that threatens to consume her. She glances at him, silently expressing her gratitude through her eyes.

They enter the dining room, and Lewis takes a seat next to Y/n, his presence a silent comfort. Y/n sits down across from her mother, leaving her father's chair vacant. The sight of the empty chair sends a jolt of anxiety through Y/n, her palms beginning to sweat.

Y/n sits across from her mother, her eyes darting to the empty chair that her father is bound to occupy shortly. The sight of the vacant seat is a ghost of the man who is about to confront the facade they've created. Y/n's palms begin to sweat, and the nervous energy builds rapidly within her.

The silence in the dining room is nearly deafening. Y/n's mother makes small talk, but Y/n's mind is elsewhere, consumed by the impending arrival of her father. She glances again at the empty chair, the seconds ticking by like hours as they wait for him to join them.

The wait seems endless, Y/n's mother's attempts at small talk falling on deaf ears as Y/n's mind races with thoughts. Every sound seems magnified, and every breath echoes. The empty chair looms over the table like a storm cloud, its absence speaking louder than any words could.

It seems almost too well-timed. Just as the silence is about to become unbearably awkward, the butlers enter the room, gracefully serving the meals that have been prepared. The aroma of the food fills the air, but Y/n's stomach is in knots, the thought of eating almost impossible.

As they express gratitude to the butlers, Y/n's father proceeds to place food on his plate, his hands moving deftly. Still in the midst of his task, he begins to ask questions, his voice laced with authority and curiosity.

Y/n's father continues to plate his food as he asks questions, his words almost nonchalant, but his tone hinting at hidden scrutiny. "So, Lewis, how did you and Y/n meet?"

Lewis responds calmly to Y/n's father's question, his tone matter-of-fact. "We met back in 2022, during Y/n's Christmas vacation," he says. "It was a coincidence, really. We just sorta bumped into each other and started talking."

Her father nods, seemingly taking in the information, still focused on loading food onto his plate. His next question comes with a hint of intensity, "And when did you decide to get married?"

Y/n's father's question about their marriage takes her slightly off-guard. As her mind races, she accidentally drops her spoon, the metallic clatter bouncing off the walls of the quiet dining room. Her heart sinks, the unexpected question leaving her feeling even more exposed.

Y/n apologizes for the dropped spoon, her voice a bit shaky. Lewis takes over, answering her father's question calmly. "We decided to get married after being engaged for two months," he explains. "We actually got married right before the off-season started. It was quite a whirlwind, to be honest."

Y/n's mother interjects, curious about the term 'off-season.' "What do you mean by off-season?" she asks, her tone casually curious.

Lewis responds to Y/n's mother's question, his tone casually informative. "The off-season is sort of like Christmas break," he says. "It's the time of year when school is out, and everything kind of slows down for a while."

Y/n's mother nods, absorbing the explanation, and then proceeds to take a bite of her food. She seems reasonably content with the answer, her focus shifting back to her meal.

Y/n's father, seemingly unsatisfied with the previous answers, resumes asking his questions. His gaze remains fixed on a spoonful of soup, but his voice drips with a sense of authoritative interrogation.

He continues to question Lewis, his eyes focused on his bowl of soup as his voice pierces the air. "So, you're an athlete, correct?" he asks, his tone suggesting he already knows the answer.

Lewis nods in confirmation, his demeanor still poised. "Yes, I am," he answers, his response firm.

Y/n's father persists with his questions, delving into practicalities. "How are you going to provide for Y/n when you're constantly traveling and training?" he probes, his tone skeptical.

Y/n's mother chimes in, gently nudging her husband and scolding him playfully. "Darling, you're acting as if Lewis is going to be your personal assistant," she admonishes, adding a little humor to the conversation.

Lewis chuckles lightly, finding a bit of humor in the situation. Y/n, on the other hand, lets out a somewhat awkward laugh, the tension still palpable beneath the facade of casual banter.

He responds to her father's question, his tone confident. "I have a well-established career, sir," he says. "I'm well-paid, and I can certainly provide for Y/n and any future family we might have."

As Lewis mentions potentially having a family, Y/n is caught off-guard and inadvertently causes herself to cough, the water going down the wrong pipe. She quickly composes herself while both their parents look at her in concern.

While Y/n recovers from her coughing fit, Lewis gently pats her back, a look of concern etched on his face. "Are you alright?" he asks, his voice laced with genuine worry.

Y/n responds nervously, her voice a bit shaky. "Yeah, I'm fine," she reassures, trying to brush off the incident, her eyes darting between Lewis, her parents, and the water in her glass.

Y/n's mother chimes in with a question, her tone light yet curious. "So, have you two thought about how big of a family you'd like to have?" she inquires, her eyes flitting between Lewis and Y/n.

Lewis expresses his thoughts on starting a family, his voice filled with warmth and optimism. "I'd really like a big family," he admits, "maybe 2-3 kids or more, and a few pets too. But ultimately, it'll be Y/n's call since she'll be the one carrying and giving birth to the children." He smiles affectionately at her, adding, "It's her decision, and I'll support whatever she chooses."

Y/n's gaze softens, her heart warmed by Lewis's words. Despite the awkward family setting, the way he looks at her, coupled with his last statement, touches her deeply. It's a small but significant gesture, emphasizing his support and understanding, something she didn't fully anticipate.

Y/n's father nods in approval, clearly satisfied with Lewis's response. "Good man," he remarks, appreciating the thoughtfulness behind Lewis's words. "Always considerate of your wife's feelings, as you should be."

As Y/n's father praises Lewis, a sigh of relief escapes her lips. The approval from her father seems to ease some of the tension, and she shoots Lewis a grateful glance, silently expressing her relief.

Y/n's mother chimes in with a question, her tone casual but slightly concerned. "Have you two thought about moving in together soon?" she asks. "I recall Y/n mentioning she's still staying with Lyka."

Y/n responds, her voice laced with a hint of anxiety, explaining the reasons behind their decision. "We haven't moved in together yet," she begins, "due to Lewis's job. With him traveling all over the world for most of the year, it would be quite lonely for me. I have some of my stuff at his place, but we agreed that I'll stay with him when he's home and stay at my apartment with Lyka when he's away."

The explanation seems to make sense to both Y/n's parents and her father nods in understanding. He seems to comprehend the challenges that come with Lewis's job, and the reasoning behind their living arrangement makes sense in their circumstances.

The dinner gradually comes to an end, and Y/n and Lewis bid farewell to her parents. There's a sense of relief in the air, mixed with a hint of lingering tension. As they part ways, Y/n's mother gives them both a warm smile, while her father offers a firm nod.

"Thanks," she says, smiling at his gesture, appreciating the small act of chivalry. She pulls out her phone from her bag before taking a seat in the car, the soft leather of the seats molding to her body.

As Lewis closes the car door, Y/n notices Lyka's name popping up on her phone's screen. She taps on the answer button, the phone pressed to her ear. "Hello?" she says, her voice slightly weary.

Lyka's voice comes through the line, sounding a mix of anxious and excited. "H-hi," she greets, her tone bordering on the guilty, like a child trying to conceal their mischief.

Y/n listens to Lyka's nervous greeting and responds, curiosity in her voice. "What's up?" she asks, setting the phone on speaker and placing it on the dash. Just as she does so, Lewis gets into the car, and they both focus on the now-speaker conversation.

Lyka's voice, sounding a bit unsure, asks, "Are you heading home now?" The question lingers in the air, suggesting that there may be something on Lyka's mind.

Y/n shoots Lewis a glance, their eyes meeting briefly as he maneuvers the car out of the gates. She's silent for a moment, contemplating Lyka's request and the implications of staying over at Lewis's place tonight.

Y/n turns her attention to Lewis, asking the question aloud, even though he had already overheard the conversation. She takes the phone off the dashboard, holding it in her hand as she speaks, her voice quieter than before. "Lyka's asking if I can stay over at your place tonight because Lando is a bit too drunk to go home."

Lewis responds, keeping his focus on the road, his voice calm and unwavering. "Sure," he says, seeming amenable to the idea. "You can stay over at my place tonight."

She relays the response to Lyka, conveying the okay from Lewis. "Okay," she says, her voice a bit lighter now. "I can stay at Lewis's place tonight."

Lyka's voice comes through the phone, brimming with gratitude and a hint of apology. "Thank you so much," she expresses, her tone sincere. "I'm really sorry for the sudden request. We just, uh…" Her voice trails off, leaving the rest unspoken.

Y/n chuckles, still on the phone with Lyka, and teases her gently. "Yeah, yeah, just make sure you take care of your 'boyfriend,'" she says, a hint of playfulness in her voice. "I'll be with Lewis."

Lyka's embarrassed screech comes through the phone, her voice full of flustered denial. "DUDE, SHUT UP!" she practically yells, her annoyance tinged with a hint of humor. "HE'S NOT MY BOYFRIEND!"

Y/n responds, a playful tone in her voice. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, Lyka," she teases. "You can tell that to the flowers he's been sending you every day." Her tone takes on a mock serious note. "Anyways, I've gotta go now."

Lyka's frustrated scream comes through the line, her voice muffled as she probably covers her face with her hands. Y/n laughs, having heard this reaction countless times over the years, knowing it's a clear sign of Lyka's embarrassment. "Bye," Lyka manages to say, her voice still tinged with flusteredness before ending the call.

Y/n looks at her phone, opening the text messages app to find the flurry of texts Lyka sent just moments ago before the call. Her eyes scan over the screen, curious to see what kind of messages her flustered best friend sent, no doubt venting about what was happening.

Lewis breaks the brief silence that had settled in the car, starting with a casual, "So…" His tone is conversational, suggesting he has something to talk about. He keeps his focus on the road, but his voice is filled with curiosity and a hint of anticipation.

Y/n sighs, her voice tinged with a mix of resignation and uncertainty. She closes her phone screen, resting it on her lap before responding. "Honestly, I'm not even sure," she admits, her tone reflecting a hint of frustration at her friends' complex relationship.

Y/n tries to explain the complicated nature of Lyka and Lando's relationship, her voice trying to convey the complexity of it all. "They're more than friends, but less than lovers," she clarifies, her tone thoughtful. "It's a bit confusing, really. They're stuck somewhere in between."

Lewis chuckles, reflecting on the implications of the "stuck in between" situation. He offers a playful observation. "Well, that could go one of two ways, right?" he muses. "Either it's really good, or really bad."

Y/n smirks, agreeing with Lewis's assessment. "Yeah, you're right," she concedes, her voice hinting at the complexities of Lyka and Lando's dynamics. "It's either going to work out amazingly or explode in their faces."

The car falls back into a moment of silence, the low hum of the engine filling the space. Lewis keeps driving, his focus on the road, his mind likely contemplating the complexities of relationships and the uncertainty of the future.

Y/n breaks the silence again, her voice carrying a hint of hesitation. "Uh…" she begins, her tone a bit uncertain, but there's a question lingering behind it.

Y/n's voice softens with gratitude as she addresses Lewis, her tone sincere. "Thanks," she says, her appreciation evident. "For, you know, not making a big deal about me staying over."

Y/n's voice takes on a more grateful tone, her appreciation clear. "And thank you for saving my ass at the dinner," she says, a hint of relief in her voice. "I really appreciate you having my back."

Lewis responds with a warm smile, his tone easy and hospitable. "It's no problem, sweetheart," he says. "You're always welcome at my place, even when I'm not around. I'll give you a key soon so you can come and go as you please."

Y/n turns her head swiftly, her gaze now locked on him. She repeats his term of endearment, "Sweetheart?" Her voice is tinged with a hint of surprise, her head slightly tilted to the side as she processes the familiarity of the word coming from his lips.

Lewis's eyes widen momentarily upon hearing her question, clearly surprised by the inquiry. He quickly recovers and responds, his tone questioning yet gentle, "Oh, is it okay if I call you that?" His voice carries a note of concern, clearly wanting to ensure he hasn't crossed any boundaries.

She lets out a soft laugh, the tension easing away. "Yeah, it's fine," she assures him, her tone tinged with a hint of amusement. "It's actually better that way. I won't be caught off guard when you call me that in public. It'll make our act more believable for the press."

Lewis nods, the concern in his eyes replaced by a hint of relief and a touch of playfulness. "That's true," he agrees, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It'll make it more convincing when we're around people. Plus, it's kind of nice…" His voice trails off, a slight implication behind his words.

A smile dances on Y/n’s lips, and she decides to tease him a bit. “Oh really? I feel like you have a big crush on me Sir Lewis,” she asks, feigning surprise, her tone lighthearted. Her eyes glimmer with playfulness, expecting him to respond with a playful banter.

His voice takes on a playfully challenging tone as he responds to Y/n’s teasing question. “And what if I do?” he says, his eyes briefly meeting hers before turning back to the road. “What would you do about it?” There’s a hint of a challenge in his tone but also a flicker of genuine curiosity, as if he’s eager to see how she would react if her teasing was based on truth.

Y/n responds with confidence, her eyes locked into his. “Oh, I have a few ideas,” she says, her tone dripping with a hint of mystery. Her voice drops lower, filled with playful tease, as if she’s already planning something.

Lewis raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued by Y/n’s response. He can’t help but wonder what kind of ideas she has in mind. “Oh yeah? And what ideas do you have in that pretty mind of yours, sweetheart?” he asks, a smile playing on his lips.

Her smile widens, her eyes glimmering mischievously. She remains coy, not revealing too much. “Oh, I can’t give away all my secrets,” she teases, her voice playful. “You’ll have to wait and find out.”

Lewis chuckles, enjoying the banter between them. "Fair enough," he responds, his tone playful. "I guess I'll just have to wait and see what you have up your sleeve, sweetheart."

Y/n smirks at the term of endearment, the name rolling off his tongue with a familiar ease. "Oh, you'll see," she teases back, her voice filled with confidence. "I promise it'll be worth the wait."

Lewis brings the car into the parking lot of the condominium building, the wheels smoothly coming to a stop. He turns off the engine, the sound of the vehicle falling silent as he shifts his gaze over to Y/n sitting next to him.

"We're here," he announces, his tone casual. He unbuckles his seatbelt and glances over at Y/n. "Ready to head inside?"

Y/n nods, the teasing banter settling into a comfortable quiet. She unbuckles her own seatbelt and prepares to get out of the car. "Yeah, let's go."

Lewis opens the car door and steps out, stretching briefly before closing the door behind him. He then walks over to Y/n's side and opens the passenger door for her, offering his hand to help her out of the car.

She smiles appreciatively, taking his hand and stepping out of the car. "Thank you," she says, her voice tinged with gratefulness. She then follows him as they head towards the entrance of the condominium building.

As they walk into Lewis's penthouse, the faint sound of a low thumping becomes perceptible. Y/n glances around, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. She looks over at Lewis, a quizzical expression on her face, silently asking if he hears it too.

Lewis catches Y/n's curious look and can't help but smile to himself, fully aware of what's about to occur. He says nothing for a moment, amused by the fact that she hasn't figured it out yet.

Out of nowhere, a chubby bulldog appears, sprinting toward Lewis with excitement. Its short, muscular legs carry it swiftly across the floor, its paws creating a thumping sound as they hit the ground. The bulldog clearly recognizes its owner and makes a beeline straight for him, tail wagging joyfully.

Lewis crouches down to meet Roscoe, his face breaking into a wide smile as the dog happily rolls onto his belly, begging for some attention. Lewis laughs and begins to scratch the dog's belly, his fingers rubbing the animal's belly fur affectionately.

"Hey, buddy," Lewis coos affectionately, his voice filled with warmth as he speaks to Roscoe. "Did you miss me?" The bulldog responds with a slobbery grin and continues to wiggle his short, stub tail on the floor in bliss.

Roscoe looks up at Lewis with big, soulful eyes, his tongue hanging out, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of his owner. He playfully licks Lewis's hand, expressing his happiness in the only way he knows how.

Roscoe, in the middle of his display of excitement towards Lewis, suddenly halts, his furry head tilting to the side as he notices Y/n's presence. His wide eyes focus on her, his gaze inquisitive and a little cautious, as if wondering who this new person in his home is.

Y/n stands there, a mix of surprise and uncertainty on her face, not quite knowing how to greet the curious bulldog. She looks over at Lewis, silently seeking some guidance on how to approach his pet.

He notices the change in Roscoe's behavior and the puzzled look on Y/n's face. He stands up and gestures for her to come closer, a reassuring smile on his face. "It's okay," he says, his tone comforting. "He's just curious. Come closer."

Y/n steps closer, her nerves palpable as she admits to Lewis that she isn't particularly fond of dogs. "Um, is this a good time to say I'm not really a dog person?" she mumbles, her voice tinged with slight unease.

Lewis chuckles, a mix of amusement and understanding in his eyes. He glances down at Roscoe, who is still sitting and watching Y/n intently. "Oh, really? Well, that might be a problem," he teases jokingly.

She cautiously moves closer and gives Roscoe a tentative pat on the head, her touch light and tentative. The bulldog responds by closing his eyes in the pleasure of the unexpected attention, his stumpy tail wagging once again as he basks in the affection.

Lewis watches the interaction and smiles, finding the scene amusing yet endearing. "See?" he says, his voice encouraging. "He likes you already."

He stands up, motioning for Y/n to follow him into the kitchen. "C'mon," he says, gesturing towards the kitchen. "I'll grab us some drinks."

Y/n follows Lewis into the kitchen, her face transforming into a surprised smile as she asks a question. "Why do we need drinks?" There's a hint of curiosity in her voice, as if she's secretly hoping for a particular reason.

Lewis uncorks the bottle, taking out two wine glasses from the overhead cabinet. As he pours the wine into the glasses, he glances over at Y/n, his eyes holding a playful twinkle. "Besides," he says, a sly smile on his lips, "we need to celebrate our marriage properly, don't we?"

He passes a wine glass to her, his fingertips lightly brushing against hers for a moment as he does so. The atmosphere in the kitchen suddenly feels a tad heated as the implications of his words hang in the air between them.

Y/n takes the offered glass, her heart skipping a beat as their fingers touch briefly. The look in his eyes and the undercurrent of flirtation in his tone are hard to ignore. The words "we need to celebrate our marriage properly" echo in her head, causing a flutter of anticipation in her stomach.

Lewis pours himself a glass of wine, then pours another for Y/n as she settles into her seat. He moves around the counter, the wine glass in his hand, and takes a seat next to her. The silence is comfortable, but the air is charged with a simmering tension, the earlier flirtation not yet faded.

Y/n holds up her wine glass, lifting it slightly in his direction. "Cheers," she says, her voice carrying a note of excitement. The clinking sound of their glasses meeting fills the air, the act oddly intimate and charged with unspoken desires.

Their eyes meet over the rims of their glasses, the moment charged with a mix of tension and anticipation. Y/n takes a sip of her wine, the liquid smooth and cool as it touches her lips, but it's the man sitting next to her that leaves her feeling flushed and warm.

Time has passed, and the wine has taken its toll. Both Y/n and Lewis are visibly tipsy, their cheeks flushed and their inhibitions lowered. She finds herself in a slightly drunken state, her speech more slurry than Lewis's. They're exchanging stories, the wine loosening their tongues and making them more susceptible to sharing their secrets and embarrassing anecdotes.

Y/n continues her story, her voice a bit slurry from the wine but filled with amusement. "So, there I was, planning to go grocery shopping, right? But then Lyka calls and invites me out for drinks. And well, as you can imagine, one drink turns into several, and the next thing I know, it's been three hours. I completely forgot about the grocery shopping. Then, instead of coming home with actual groceries, I end up bringing home this stray white cat I found. And thus, my cat Extra Virgin Olive Oil was born."

Lewis can't help but chuckle lightly as he listens to Y/n's story, finding it both absurd and endearing. He leans his face against his palm, his elbow propped up on the counter, his eyes sparkling with tipsy amusement. He glances at her, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "You named your cat what?" he asks, his voice tinged with playful disbelief.

His laughter continues, the image of Y/n coming home with a cat instead of groceries amusing him more than it probably should in his current state of drunkenness. "You named your cat Extra Virgin Olive Oil because you forgot about grocery shopping and got drunk instead?" he asks, grinning widely, clearly finding the situation hilarious.

Y/n grins widely, nodding enthusiastically in affirmation. "Yep, that's right," she says, her voice filled with tipsy mirth. "Extra Virgin Olive Oil. And let me tell you, he's the most spoiled cat ever. All because I couldn't stick to my grocery shopping plans."

She feels a sudden brush of fur against her leg, her gaze dropping down. But before she can even react, Roscoe takes off like a shot, darting away with one of her high heels clenched in his mouth. Y/n's eyes widen, and a tipsy laugh escapes her lips.

Y/n jumps out of her seat, a tipsy grin on her face. "Roscoe!" she yells, giggling as she tries to catch the dog who's now prancing away with her high heel. Lewis watches the scene unfold, his laughter joining hers, finding the whole situation hilariously adorable.

Y/n's pursuit of Roscoe continues, her steps a bit unsteady from the alcohol. She tries to catch him, but her foot catches on the edge of the rug, her already tipsy balance getting the better of her. She trips over, her body stumbling forward, a yelp of surprise escaping her.

Lewis sees Y/n's fall, her carefree chase after the dog abruptly interrupted by her slip on the rug. He gets up from his seat, a slight worry crossing his face. But before he can make a move, Y/n raises an arm up from the floor, and yells out, "I'm okay!" Her voice is slightly slurred but there's a sense of pride in her tone, as if she's proud of her resilient demeanor despite her tipsy state.

As she stands up with a wide smile on her face, she doesn't realize the small cut on her elbow until Lewis points it out. Y/n glances down, noticing the slight trickle of blood on her arm. She touches the spot, a little surprised, but the alcohol has numbed the pain, giving her a false sense of invincibility. She giggles, looking at the cut with amused detachment.

Despite her stumble and the small cut on her elbow, Y/n's demeanor remains carefree, her eyes blinking in a slightly confused manner. The alcohol has dulled her senses, so pain feels distant and the reality of the fall hasn't quite registered in her mind yet. She looks up at Lewis, a slightly bewildered expression on her face as if she's not quite sure how she ended up on the floor in the first place.

Lewis lets out a small, playful exhale and saunters over to Y/n, gesturing for her to sit on the couch. "Alright, come on, sit down," he instructs, his voice laced with a hint of amused frustration. He guides her over to the couch, steadying her a bit as she clumsily flops down onto the cushions.

He turns away, giving her a warm smile, and says, "Okay, sit tight. I'll be right back. I'll get a bandage for that cut on your elbow." He strides out of the room, leaving Y/n slumped on the couch, a little drunk and a bit bewildered.

Y/n lounges on the couch in a slightly disheveled manner, her body stretched out like a starfish. She looks like a ragdoll, her limbs flung about in a completely comfortable yet chaotic way. The alcohol has made her feel relaxed and carefree, completely unbothered by the fact that she's lying haphazardly on the couch, waiting for Lewis to return with a bandage for her now-forgotten cut.

After 5 minutes, Lewis enters the room carrying a small first-aid kit. He looks over at Y/n, noticing that she's a bit more composed compared to a few moments ago. The alcohol's effect seems to have subsided a bit, perhaps due to the short break in time. He walks over to her, sitting down on the couch next to her, the first-aid Kit in his hand.

"Seems like you're getting a bit more sober now," he observes, his tone gentle as he opens the first-aid kit. He takes out an antiseptic wipe and a small adhesive bandage, preparing to clean and cover the cut on her elbow.

"Hold still for a moment," he says, his voice soft. He gently takes her arm and begins cleaning the wound with the antiseptic wipe. The cool touch of the solution stings a little, but he's careful not to cause her any unnecessary pain.

Y/n winces a bit as the antiseptic wipe touches the cut, a small "ow" escaping her lips. The alcohol has numbed her a bit, but the sting of the antiseptic still registers. She looks at her arm, watching as Lewis carefully cleans the cut, his touch light yet deliberate.

"It's alright," he soothes, his tone gentle. "I'm almost done." He continues to clean the cut, making sure it's free of any dirt or debris before gently placing the bandaid over the cut. His touch is light and careful, his fingers grazing the soft skin of her arm.

Once the bandaid is placed, he gently pats the area around the cut, securing it in place. He then releases her arm, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. He looks up at her, a small, reassuring smile on his lips.

Y/n gazes at Lewis, her eyes studying his face intently. She takes in every detail - the curve of his lips, the flecks of gold in his eyes, the slight stubble on his chin. The alcohol still in her system has lowered her inhibitions, making her bolder and more observant. She continues to stare at him, not saying a word.

Lewis notices Y/n's unwavering gaze, her eyes taking in every feature of his face. He raises an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his expression. Seeing her silent observation, he jokingly asks, "Got something on my face?" His voice is light, and his words are filled with humor.

Y/n shakes her head, continuing her silent observation, her gaze still fixated on his features. And then, in a surprising move, she leans forward, her lips brushing against his in a soft, slow kiss. The alcohol in her system lowers her inhibitions, making her actions more impulsive and carefree. The kiss is unexpected but filled with an undercurrent of desire and affection.

Lewis is taken aback for a moment, caught off guard by her unexpected kiss. But then, he relaxes into it, his eyes closing as he responds to her contact. His hand comes up to cup the back of her head, his fingers lightly brushing through her hair. The kiss deepens, the alcohol in their systems making it heady and impulsive.

Y/n, emboldened by the alcohol and the heat of the moment, makes another bold move. Without breaking the kiss, she shifts her position, straddling his lap, a leg on either side of him. Her body presses against his, her hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer as she continues kissing him, her actions driven by a combination of intoxication and desire.

She suddenly pulls away from the kiss, the reality of her actions sinking in. Her blush spreads across her face, a mixture of embarrassment and desire filling her. She looks at him, her eyes wide, her breathing slightly ragged from the intensity of the kiss. The alcohol in her system has lowered her inhibitions, making her bolder and more impetuous, but she still feels a mix of shyness and confusion at her own behavior.

Lewis looks at Y/n, a hint of confusion and surprise in his eyes. He gently cups her face with his hand, his thumb tracing the contour of her cheek. He asks her softly, "Why did you stop?" His voice is a mix of curiosity and tenderness, his gaze holding hers as he waits for her response.

Despite the buzz of alcohol in her system, Y/n hesitates, her actions and her desires at war within her. The kiss had been spontaneous, driven by a heady mixture of alcohol and desire, but now she feels a sense of self-consciousness and insecurity. Her blush deepens under his touch, and she looks into his eyes, trying to find the words to explain her sudden break in their intimate moment.

"I…I don't know," she stutters out, her voice small and unsure. "It's just…I don't know…" Her gaze flickers away from his, unable to hold his intense, questioning stare. The alcohol and the heat of the moment have made her impulsive, but now she feels exposed, vulnerable in her straddling position, her guard faltering under his soft but insistent touch.

Lewis gives her a reassuring smile, his hand still cupping her face. Seeing her hesitant, he gently draws her back towards him, his other hand coming up to rest on her hip. He pulls her down, bringing her face closer to his, and kisses her again, his lips pressing against hers with a soft but determined pressure. The kiss is slow, tender, and deliberate, his tongue slipping out to caress her lower lip, seeking more.

With a swift movement, Lewis stands up, still not breaking the kiss, his hands holding onto Y/n's thighs to keep her stable. The shift in positioning causes her to tighten her arms around his neck, and their bodies press even closer together. Lewis's grip is firm but gentle, his strength evident as he holds her up with ease, the kiss continuing unhindered.

He walks with purpose towards the bedroom door, his strength and balance holding Y/n securely in his arms. In a move that seems completely effortless, he keeps one hand on her thigh, supporting her weight, while his other free hand reaches out, unlocks the door, and swings it open. He strides across the threshold, carrying her into the room, the kiss never once breaking.

Inside the bedroom, he kicks the door closed behind them, shutting out the rest of the world. The only sounds filling the room are the soft gasps and sighs exchanged between them as the kiss deepens, fueled by a heady mixture of desire and alcohol. Lewis shifts his grip slightly, his hand sliding from her thigh to her waist, holding her steadily as he guides her towards the bed.

Lewis gently sets Y/n down on her feet, helping her regain her balance. Then, with a soft yet firm pressure on her shoulders, he eases her backward until she sits on the edge of the bed. He stands in front of her, his body looming over hers in a way that is both dominant and protective. He looks down at her, his gaze darkened with desire, his breathing slightly heavy.

With a subtle but deliberate action, Lewis's hand moves up to Y/n's neck, his fingers wrapping around the delicate skin in a light but firm grip. He squeezes gently, not enough to cut off her air, but enough to assert a sense of control and possessiveness. The kiss that follows is quick, fierce, and possessive, his tongue invading her mouth in a dominant, needy manner.

Y/n whimpers into the kiss, the sound caught between a protest and a moan of pleasure. Lewis's dominant grip on her neck, the way he claims her mouth in a possessive kiss, fuels the fire within her. Her hands come up to cling to his shoulders, the mixture of pleasure and submission washing over her in waves.

Too caught up in the intensity of the moment, she grips the loops of Lewis's pants, her fingers hooking onto them as if anchoring herself. The action is both needy and desperate, a silent plea for more as she looks up at him, her eyes burning with desire and anticipation.

Lewis glances down at Y/n, noticing her fingers gripping his pant loops, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. Teasingly, he leans down, his face close to hers, and whispers, "So needy, aren't you?" His voice is a low, gravelly murmur, his words carrying a hint of possessive satisfaction.

She looks up at Lewis with wide, innocent, doe-like eyes, her expression a mixture of need and submission. She doesn't respond, her voice caught in her throat, but her grip on his pant loops tightens just a fraction, her body silently begging for more. The contrast between her innocent gaze and her needy actions is striking, and the heat in her eyes speaks volumes.

Lewis continues to look down at her, his eyes taking in her beautiful, vulnerable expression. He reaches out a hand, tracing the line of her neck with his fingers, but the touch light is barely there. He can hear her soft, ragged breaths, can feel her pulse quickening under his touch, and his own need, his own desire, increases exponentially.

He leans in, his lips moving to her ear, his breath against her skin as he whispers, "You're so gorgeous like this, so needy for me." He kisses her ear, his lips moving down to her jaw, leaving a trail of soft, hot kisses down the delicate curve of her neck.

Lewis continues to kiss along her neck, his mouth nipping and sucking gently at her skin, his tongue darting out to taste her sweetness. His hands slide down her body, caressing her sides, his touch both tender and possessive, his own need growing with every soft sound that escapes her lips.

He bites gently at her pulse point, a small, possessive act that makes her gasp and whine softly. His hands move to the hem of her shirt, his fingers tracing the line of exposed skin, his touch both gentle and firm. "I want you," he whispers against her skin, his voice rough and full of desire, "so badly."

His hands slide underneath her shirt, his palms pressing against her skin, feeling her warmth and softness against his touch. He feels her shiver at the contact, her body responding to his touch like a perfectly tuned instrument. He kisses her collarbone, his mouth moving down to the hollow of her throat, his lips trailing along her skin with increasing need.

His hands move higher, his fingers tracing the contour of her stomach, her ribcage, her breasts. He feels her arch into his touch, her body craving more contact, more of his touch, his caress, his attention. He can feel her need, her desire, the way her breath hitches at his touch, and it only fuels his own fire, his own burning need for her.

Lewis pushes her gently back onto the bed, his body hovering over her, his weight propped up on his forearms. He looks down at her, his eyes roaming over her face, her body, taking in the sight of her beneath him, soft and yielding, yet filled with an undeniable fire and desire.

His fingers move to the buttons of her shirt, his touch slow and deliberate as he unfastens them one by one, revealing her bare skin inch by inch, his lips following the path of his fingers, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin.

Y/n's breathing becomes ragged as Lewis' hands reach the last button, freeing her breasts from the confines of her shirt. She pushes the fabric off her shoulders, tossing it aside, her nipples hard and aching for his touch.

Lewis' hands cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her sensitive nipples. Y/n moans, her head falling back as she arches into his touch. Her hands roam over his body, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

She slides her hand inside, gripping his erection through his boxers. Lewis groans, his hips bucking into her hand. Y/n pulls him closer, their lips meeting in a rushed kiss as she fumbles with his boxers, freeing his hard cock.

She strokes him slowly, her thumb rubbing over the head, making him moan into her mouth. Lewi's hands leave her breasts, training down her sides to her waistband. He hooks his thumbs into her pants, pulling them down her legs, leaving her completely naked.

Y/n steps out of her pants, her body trembling with desire. Lewis' eyes roam over her, drinking in the sight of her before he pulls her back against him. He reaches around, unfastening his braided belt, letting it fall to the floor.

He pushes her onto the bed, following her down, his lips trailing kisses down her neck, his hand guiding his cock to her entrance. Y/n's breath hitches, her legs parting, welcoming him.

Lewis positions himself at her entrance, his eyes locked on hers, filled with lust and desire. He pushes inside her, slowly at first, allowing her body to adjust to his size. Y/n gasps, her nails digging into the sheets as he fills her completely.

Y/n bites her lip, her eyes widening as she feels the full extent of Lewis' size. "Fuck, you're huge," she hisses, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through her.

Lewis smirks, his hands gripping her hips as he begins to thrust, his rhythm slow and deliberate. "Like it sweetheart?" he growls, his voice deep and seductive.

Y/n nods, her eyes fluttering shut as she adjusts to his size. "Yeah, I... I love it," she admits, her voice breathy and needy.

Lewis grins, his hand sliding around Y/n's neck, applying gentle pressure. "Good," he murmurs, his thrusts growing faster and more forceful.

Y/n's eyes widen at the added sensation, her body arching off the bed as her arousal intensifies. "Lewis," she whispers, her nails digging into his back, "don't stop."

He doesn't, his thrusts becoming more aggressive, his hand tightening around her neck just enough to heighten her arousal. Y/n's moans grow louder, her body trembling in anticipation of her impending orgasm.

Y/n's voice is barely a whisper as she gasps, "I'm... I'm close, Lewis."

Lewis, however, is lost in the sensations, his focus solely on the feel of Y/n's tight, wet pussy wrapped around his cock. He continues to thrust, his hand still tightly around her neck, his body moving in perfect unison with hers.

Y/n's orgasm hits her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as she cries out, her nails digging into Lewis' bicep. Her walls clench around his cock, milking him as he continues to thrust.

Lewis' thrusts grow more erratic, his grip on Y/n's neck tightening as he feels her orgasm grip his cock. Her shaking only serves to fuel his desire, his release drawing near.

He pulls out of her, Y/n's protest cut off by the loss of his cock. He positions himself at her entrance once more, his cock glistening with her juices. "On your knees, sweetheart," he commands, his voice thick with lust.

Y/n obeys, her body still trembling as she gets onto her hands and knees. Lewis lines up his cock with her wet pussy, thrusting back inside her, this time from behind.

His hand leaves her neck, instead gripping her hair, pulling her head back as he begins fuck her with renewed vigor. Y/n's moans fill the room, her body responding to her every thrust,

Lewis' thrusts become more rushed, his breathing heavy. "You're such a good girl, taking my big cock like that," he praises, his voice thick with desire.

Y/n's body shudders, her arousal building once more as she feels him fill her from behind. "Mmm, Lewis," she moans, her voice thick with lust.

Lewis' hand tightens in her hair, his thrusts growing more urgent. "Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum for me one more time," he says, voice a mixture of command and desire.

Y/n's body responds to his words, her orgasm building once more. "I... I'm close," she gasps, her nails digging into the bedsheets.

Lewis feels his own release building, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Come for me," he demands, his cock pulsing inside her.

Y/n's body convulses, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wave. Lewis can no longer hold back, his cock pulsing as he releases his hot seed deep inside her. He collapses onto her back, his breathing heavy as he tries to regain his composure.

Her body shudders, her mind swimming in the aftermath of her orgasm. Lewis slowly pulls out of her, his cock leaving a trail of cum between her legs. He rolls off her, pulling her into his arms, their bodies entwined.

They lie there, their bodies intertwined in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Both are out of breath, their hearts still racing from the intensity of the experience. Lewis is holding Y/n close, her head resting on his chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back. The room is quiet, the only sound being their ragged breathing, the sound gradually slowing and evening out as they regain their composure.

Y/n breaks the silence, her voice a bit hoarse but weary. She looks up at Lewis, her head still pillowed on his chest, and says, "That sobered me up real fast." Her words are a mixture of exhaustion and satiation, the aftermath of their passionate encounter leaving her both depleted and fulfilled.

Lewis gives a soft laugh, his fingers still tracing patterns on her back. He nods, agreeing with her words. "I guess that's one way to sober up," he replies, his voice still a little breathless. He gently brushes a stray strand of hair from her face, his touch soft and affectionate.

Y/n jokes, a weary but playful smile on her face. "Well," she says, "that was like our very own little honeymoon night, wasn't it?" Her comment, although lighthearted, carries a hint of seriousness, a nod to the intense and passionate connection they had just shared.

Lewis chuckles softly, a smile on his lips. He gently pulls her closer, his arms tightening around her. "I guess you could say that," he responds, his voice warm and gentle. "We definitely made some memories tonight." He looks down at her, his gaze filled with tenderness and affection.

Y/n hisses as she adjusts her position, a slight wince on her face. Her body is likely still sensitive from their passionate encounter, and she moves gingerly, trying to find a more comfortable position.

Lewis notices her hiss and the wince on her face, his expression immediately becoming one of concern. He asks her gently, "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" His voice is laced with worry and concern, his fingers lightly coming up to caress her cheek.

Y/n shakes her head, her eyes meeting his. "No, I'm alright," she reassures him. "Just a little sore, I guess. But it was worth it," she adds with a sleepy smile.

Lewis continues to look at her, his eyes searching her face for any signs of discomfort. He asks again, his voice filled with concern, "Are you sure you're alright? Soreness is normal, but I don't want to hurt you." He gently tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch tender and caring.

Y/n nods, a small smile on her face, and jokingly says, "Well, I guess there's an easy fix for that. Just take me out on a shopping spree, and I'll feel like a million bucks again." Her tone is light and humorous, indicating that she's not entirely serious but also hinting at her desire for some pampering and shopping therapy.

Without hesitation, Lewis reaches for the nightstand near the bed and grabs his wallet. He opens it and pulls out a credit card, then hands it to Y/n with a smile. "There," he says, his voice lighthearted, "your ticket to feeling a million bucks. Go wild."

Y/n's eyes widened as she took his credit card. She playfully gasps, a mischievous smile on her face. "Are you serious? You're giving me carte blanche with this?" she says, holding the card up and examining it like it's a precious gem.

Lewis nods, a smirk on his face. "Dead serious," he confirms, leaning back against the headboard. "Go nuts. Buy whatever you want, and don't hold back. It's on me."

Y/n places the credit card on the nightstand, her smile playful. "Oh, it can definitely wait till tomorrow," she says. "I think we should both rest and recover from tonight's… activities." Her tone is teasing, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction.

Lewis chuckles, a knowing smile on his face. "I agree," he replies, his voice deep and gravelly. "We definitely need some rest after tonight. But tomorrow…tomorrow is all yours. Shopping sprees, pampering, the works. I can't have you sore for too long, can I?"

Y/n smirks at his words, her eyes narrowing mischievously. "You know, you might be starting to regret giving me that credit card already," she teases. "You're creating a little monster here."

Lewis laughs heartily. "Oh, I'm fully aware of the monster I'm creating," he replies, still sporting a smile. "But honestly, I find it kind of hot. The thought of you going on a shopping spree, spending my money without a care in the world… it's strangely alluring."

Y/n teases, a mischievous grin on her face. "Oh, don't worry, I plan on getting something for you too," she says. "After all, a good shopping spree isn't complete without a little gift for the guy who's footing the bill."

Lewis pulls her back towards him, drawing her close against his chest. He settles back against the pillows, his arm wrapping around her in a protective, comforting embrace. Y/n's head rests against his chest, her body tucked snugly against his, and he gently kisses the top of her head. "Sweet dreams," he whispers, his voice soft and affectionate.

yn.ln

liked by lewishamilton, lyka.val, george_russell and 644,819 others yn.ln Shopping sprees, a hot best friend, and an even hotter husband? I'm winning. tagged lewishamilton, lyka.val

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[meo-eiru]

*cracks knuckles* here I am again. this time with Micah as my victim

so at first,

you definitely should add some more story to him. so far, if I'm being honest, he feels a bit too plain to me. but oh boy, what a potential I see here!

alright lets begin

omg look at him! such a hypocrite! how smart it is, to put all blame on MC while being just as (actually even more) sinful. and he sure hides well; it's your fault, isn't it? oh you and your sinful mind.

buut despite him not really being my cup of tea, I still do like a good old concept of ugly insides, hidden behind a beautiful shell (if that's the vibe you were going for).

Micah seems so pure, so holy, almost like an angel (you played smart by adding a lot of white in his design) – but behind that pristine facade? he's ugly. and that shell eventually starts to crack, because no matter how pure he may seem, Micah is just as human as we are, and definitely not a good one. and what are we, if not a bunch of cruel, egotistical animals? and deep inside he's exactly that, sickeningly human. with that in mind the very first comic you did abt him is actually pretty hilarious to me. your desires? what about his desires, which are strong enough to ruin your whole life?

I kinda feel like he's also a little pathetic in his own way; if he can't make you fall for him, he will break you. isn't it like a very cowardly move? he wants you badly enough to use whatever method it may require to have you, but will never admit it.

but let's talk about that strange desire to destroy MC's purity. why? to make you just as dirty as he is? cute, but doesn't seem like a full explanation to me. he's a priest, right? and even despite those dark insides of his, I feel like Micah still kept at least some of the priest mindset. I mean, they're raised and taught with a very strict discipline. so I feel like deep down, he feels bad (not ashamed, but in a "how dare they" way) for his attraction to you, and punishes you for that attraction. it's not your fault, of course, but who cares? you managed to destroy his perfect, clean facade, which he was methodically building for his whole life with simply your existence. isn't that unfair? so now you must fall into the depths of hell with him.

I like how we can't justify him. Micah is perfectly aware of what he is doing. and of twisted nature of his feelings too, I think, yet still chooses to indulge in his desires, even if it hurts you, the person he was supposed to love and cherish. he makes me feel an absolute, poetic rage, and I love a character I can hate. (don't get me wrong, it meant to be a praise)

and I absolutely adore his design. also if I was on point with the idea you meant for him, that is wonderful too. if a character makes me feel something, I like that character. but girl, you really should add more details about him. because everything I've written here is, basically, just my own brainstorming and bare theories. Micah needs to have more meat on him for a full character analysis >_>

but anyway, I actually have a question.

what if MC wasn't in any way pure? what if they're a complete opposite of that word? count it on my love for hunchback of notre dame

unlike the nun MC, I suggest a MC who fully embraces their sins. like an evil succubus, they enjoy the joys of being tainted. they know what influence they have on their dear Father Micah, and isn't ashamed of that. I feel like that would make a pretty interesting story

(cough cough draw him blushing and moaning and my life is yours darling)

Another absolutely incredible ask I'll have a field day answering.

I do agree with him being a bit under developed at the moment. Micah was a bit unfortunate as in he was never meant to be an actual character. He was just a momentary creation who existed for me to study color theory. A beautiful man of flowers who didn't have an identity.

Then he joined the cast when I was busy with working on commissions and the 5k celebration comic so I didn't have the time to draw his introduction comic with the things I had planned for him, though I've been trying my best to explore him a bit more thru asks like this one. The fact that I don't want to spoil the stuff I'll draw in his comic is also holding me back a little.

I think Micah is evil, but not completely bad. A man who was born twisted, who was raised into goodness, and even with all the love he received never truly got rid of his inner darkness, but just once, just for one moment, I think he had good in his heart. And that is when he first saw you.

With all his twistedness, all his evilness, all his darkness, I think that love he felt for you was truly pure. Because in his eyes you appeared truly beautiful, like a pure lily.

But Micah isn't a pure man, neither does he want to be. So he prefers to pull you down to his level, so that you two can be sinful together. A truly impure way of feeling that pure and innocent love.

I have gotten asks about him with a more rowdy darling, one who isn't a nun or one who is more sinful. I've been really brainstorming about it but I don't think it would work. Not because I personally can't force the story into being like that but because I think it was just not meant to be like that.

You see I do come up with the characters, but I don't control their actions. If the character is unwilling I can't shape the story to my will. Because that story is their life and they control it. The best I can do is to try to fill the gaps I can.

I might prefer submissive yanderes, I might want Micah to have a more sinful darling instead but it wouldn't be Micah's story anymore. That's one of the reasons why he's so different from the rest of the boys. I'm not super into very dominant guys, I could probably count the ones I have with one hand, it wasn't my intention for Micah to be the way he is, but I don't think he could've been any other way.

Micah was just meant to be manipulative, a gaslighter, a dirty man who'll pull anything to push you below him.

I guess me looking at my stories from an actual novel or manga perspective also contributes to this. Father Micah exists to shine with a darling who he can soil.

Now the darling can maybe go against him in the future, she might rebel or give in to his sinful ways, but that's a different story.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Hype!!!! For your 1k follower party - fic prompt request!!!

G, 💐, 🥰 and 🍎 These were so hard to pick omg Congrats again to you!!! 💖😊🫂

Kei, thank you so much!! This was a delight to write, all the more bc you offered to draw a little something to go with it!! Everyone, look at the beautiful art @firefly-party has created to go with this little ficlet! 🌸💖😍

The language of flowers

Words: 1000

Rated: T

Tags: Meet cute; Flower shop AU; Bookstore AU; Background Buckingham; Platonic Stobin; Platonic Hellcheer; Flirting; Horny disaster Eddie Munson

“Chrissy, we have to make a decision.” 

Chrissy stops stirring her cold coffee, tearing her eyes away from the bookstore across the street. Or more precisely the owner, who has just stepped outside with an armful of magazines. Eddie watches how she blinks at him, futilely trying to return to their conversation, and sighs. 

“Ever since that place opened, it's like I'm talking at a wall. A pining, sighing, exorbitantly gay wall. Either, we find a new coffee place…” 

Chrissy’s eyes widen. 

“... or you'll need to ask bookstore chick out.” 

The shock on Chrissy’s face morphs into horror. 

“What?” she squeaks. “No way, I'm not doing that. Have you seen her? She's dreamy, she probably has people queuing up left and right.”

On the other side of the street, dreamy bookstore chick trips over her own shoelaces, sending the magazines flying all around her. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Anyhow. Just walk over, ask about the merchandise. Use your charme, get her number.” 

Chrissy scowls. “You say that like it’s easy.” 

“Because it is,” Eddie laughs. “I could do it right now.” 

“Oh, yes? Go ahead.” Chrissy quirks a brow, gesturing at the flower shop next to the café. “If you can walk over and get a random employee’s number, I’ll to ask out bookstore chick. If not, you pay for our coffee.” 

“Oh, it’s on,” Eddie cackles, sliding out of his chair and prancing over to the flower shop. “Watch and learn!” 

He lets his gaze sweep, scanning the employees in the green polos milling about between the flowers. He’s just thinking that all of them are either decidedly too old or decidedly too female when he spots him. He has his back turned, so all Eddie can see of him is a shock of chestnut hair, streaked gold from the sunlight. That, and the polo stretching over the muscles of his shoulders and arms as he bends over the colorful bouquets. Eddie feels his mouth tug into a grin as he saunters closer. That one's perfect.

“Excuse me,” he starts to say. “I'm wondering-” 

The guy turns. And all words evaporate on Eddie’s tongue. 

He was wrong. This one isn't perfect. This one's divine. 

Hazel eyes with gold flecks, brought out by the green shirt. Full, pink lips begging to be kissed. A strong jaw and long neck dotted in moles, like the heavens themselves painted constellations all over the guy’s skin. Eddie is overcome with the sudden, irrational urge to rip off that polo to see if they continue on his chest, maybe trace them with his tongue and teeth. 

“Hi,” says the guy, and even his voice is nice. “Something I can help you with?” 

Eddie thinks there’s many things he’d like this hottie to help him with. 

“Erm …” is what he says. 

Flower shop hottie cocks his head at him and lifts his hand to his mouth. He’s holding an apple, crisp green to match his shirt. It crunches as he takes a bite out of it. Eddie wastes half a brain cell wondering why he's eating at work. The rest ceases functioning over the thin sheen of juice glistening on those lips. Flower shop hottie raises a brow. 

“Flowers,” Eddie croaks after an hour or ten. “I wanna buy flowers.” 

That perfect mouth twitches. “Well, duh. This is a flower shop, y’know?” 

Eddie nods dumbly, wondering if those lips would taste of apples if he licked them.

“Well,” hottie says helpfully, taking another, very unhelpful bite of his apple. “What did you have in mind? Sunflowers would be great for your friend. Bright, cheerful, not overly romantic. Roses for a crush, obviously. Red is the classic, but maybe pink if it's still fresh? Peonies for a more elegant and subtle alternative.” 

Eddie eyes the flowers, the ones with the long stems and dramatic, voluminous blossoms. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Peepo- … Pony- … Those.” 

“Excellent choice,” Hottie beams at him. “They're my favorites.” 

“Cool,” Eddie squawks. “Great. How much are they?” 

“Huh?” says hottie. “No idea, I don't work here.” 

Wait, what? 

Hottie takes in his dumbstruck face, the way Eddie gawks at the green polo - markedly devoid of a company logo or name tag - and smiles.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie groans.

Hottie throws his head back and laughs, like Eddie just made the funniest joke in the world. 

“I'm on my lunch break,” he then explains. “I own the bookstore. Well, co-own. And, speaking of which…” 

Eddie flinches as the half-eaten apple is pressed into his hand, but hottie gestures at him to wait, so he does. The amount of things he'd do for this guy is quite frankly alarming, and he's only known him for a few minutes. 

Hottie fumbles around in his back pocket for a second, finally emerging with a pen. 

“Overheard your little bet,” he says, pulling Eddie’s free hand towards himself. It tickles as he scribbles something onto the his arm and Eddie needs to hold back an undignified snort. “Not the coolest of moves, but if Robin rants at me about your cute little friend one more time, I'll club her to death with a book. So here you go.”

He steps back, snatching the apple and taking another bite while Eddie peers down at his arm. There's a number on it, and a name above that. 

Steve. 

“You don't work here, though,” Eddie blurts. “I didn't win the bet, strictly-” 

“You want this to continue for another month or five?” 

Eddie follows Steve’s nod to see Chrissy gazing forlornly at the front of the bookstore and winces. 

Steve chuckles and nudges him towards her. 

“Go on, then. Put us all out of our misery.” 

Eddie has already started walking when something occurs to him.

“Is this your actual number?” he asks, flapping his arm up and down. “Or did you make it up?” 

“Why don't you try it and find out?” Steve winks at him. “I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot of each other either way.” 

Congrats, Eddie, you've just acquired your very own bookstore hottie!

More celebration ficlets

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄: Shower Sex w/ CDC!Daryl Dixon

a/n: omg y'all's tags on your reblogs of my posts make me giggle. there's an equal amount of thirst to y'all just being plain old funny! i love all my silly little gooses!! thank you for the support!

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At first the CDC just felt like a fantasy, a great idea, but unreachable. But there was something about the way in which Rick spoke about it that sparked the last bit of hope that had been residing in your chest.

The fall had taken everything from you: you parents, siblings, relatives, a job that you had worked your ass off to get; but the worst part is, it put your relationship with Daryl on hold. You knew it was only because he was afraid of losing you, but it was like you missed him even though he was right there. So, when an opportunity to be a couple again arose, you took it.

"Why haven't ya showered yet?" He asked while walking in your shared quarters — which had been Daryl's insistence when you tried to claim one for yourself. 

You looked up from the book you were reading on the miniature sofa in the room. "I figured we could shower together. I tried to find you while everyone else was, but I didn't know where you were." He only grunted, chewing on a hangnail nervously. 

"Ya wanna shower with me?" He asked sheepishly. You smiled softly, setting the book face down and standing up to take his large, callused hands in yours. "Of course, babe. Why wouldn't I?" He just shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno… figured ya wouldn' want me to see ya… ya know… like tha'." 

"Just because it seems like we aren't dating doesn't mean you're not my boyfriend." You reassured the archer. "Now c'mon before there's no more hot water left." 

He allowed you to lead him to the showering quarters where you had begun to remove your clothes. He looked away bashfully, the tips of his ears turning red. 

"D!" You giggled. "It's nothing you hadn't seen before. Now strip!" You commanded playfully. You kicked off your pants and panties, stripping off your shirt and sports bra before standing bare before him.

He had stripped down to nothing as you approached one of the enclosed showers. You twisted the knob and hot water sprayed down your sweat and dirt covered skin, drawing a blissful sigh from between your lips.

"Oh, Daryl! This is wonderful! You gotta get in here!" You cheered, standing under the head of it. You allowed the water to soak the front of your body, your head tipped back in relaxation. 

You felt his warm body before you heard the door slide shut. You smiled gently when you felt his hands land on your plush hips, the hunter placing his chin in the crease of your neck. You squirmed at the feeling of his beard tickling your skin.

"It's been too long since we've been alone, huh?" You asked carelessly. You reached up an arm to massage at his scalp and he purred in delight. "Mhm." He agreed with a hum.

He let his hands wander up and down your body, his fingertips skimming over your nipple. You knew he didn't mean too, that he was just simply worshiping your body without any lustful intent behind his touches, but God, it's been so fucking long.

"Do that again. Please." You plead breathlessly. "Okay." His voice was gruff and deep as his palms cupped your breasts, twisting your nipples and teasing them just the way he remembered you liked. 

You moaned softly, head falling back on his shoulder as he placed sweet kisses all up and down your skin. Your body heated up unashamedly, core dampening with each twist of his skillful fingers.

"'Missed you so much. Missed this." 

"Missed ya too, sunshine." His hands descended down your torso to your weeping cunt. The rough pads of his fingers teased your labia, stroking it up and down in fluid motions before sinking two digits into you slowly.

"Ah! — shit." You gasped at the stretch of the intrusion. Your hips jolted out in an attempt to fuck yourself on his fingers; but with him, you never had to beg. He'd give you anything you'd ask for and tenfold.

"I gotcha, I gotcha." He cooed, lips settling near your ear so you could listen to his ragged breathing. 

The only thing that could be heard over the splashing of the water was the squelch of your cunt followed by your ecstasy ridden moans. His fingers continually curled against your g-spot. You felt your stomach tighten, your grip on his hair tightening as well.

"I'm gonna cum, Daryl!" You gasped. You were on the precipice of pleasure, but you needed just a little bit more to push you over the edge. As if reading your mind, he inserted a finger and the pad of his thumb circled your clit.

"Cum f'me, sunshine." He demanded softly, a light rasp following his words. "Fuck!" You cried out, body quivering as your orgasm overtook you.

You could feel his hardness poking your back as he resumed his soft kisses to help bring you back down from your high.

"Don' gotta keep goin' if ya don' wanna." 

"I wanna keep going, D. Please. 'S been too long." You begged, pressing your ass on his hard-on. He choked on a grunt, palms squeezing your wide hips. "Okay." He said thickly.

He turned you around, your arms instantly wrapping around his neck. He walked you back barely even a step before your back touched the surprisingly cool tile.

"'Wanna see ya." There was a sheepish look on his face at his own admission. "I wanna see you too, baby." You agreed, bringing your lips to his as they joined together in an amorous embrace.

He wrapped one of your legs around his hip, his tip poking at your folds. He reached a free hand down to guide his cock to your entrance where he slowly penetrated you.

You broke the kiss by your head falling back, your jaw slightly dropping at the intrusion.

"Fuck." You both called out in tandem when he bottomed out inside of you. 

You spent a few moments catching your breath, but as need twisted in your gut, you squeezed down on him, pulling a bellowing groan from him. 

"Please move, Dar." 

You didn't need to tell him twice. He pulled out, before slamming into you, a loud slap resounding throughout the showers. You were glad that you decided to wait for him. 

He tried to keep up a slow pace, but your noises and gummy walls beckoned him, sucking him greedily in an attempt to take him for all that he was worth. 

You knew you'd be sore later with every smack of his toned hips to the insides of your plush thighs. 

"Ya feel so good, sweetheart." He growled, his tip prodding at your g-spot with each thrust. "You feel good too!" You repeated back to him. "God, I missed you so much." You recalled once more, pulling the man to your body so there wasn't an inch of space left between the two of you.

"Missed ya too, sweetpea. 'Gonna make you cum real good, alrigh'?" You nodded fastly in excitement. "Need it." Your response was simple, but he knew it held a heavier meaning behind it.

You knew that you were going to cum soon, and if Daryl's dick twitching was any consolation, he was right behind you.

"I want you to cum with me, baby." He nodded, "I will, I will." He repeated breathlessly.

Your bodies worked in sync to bring the other to their climax, and when they were successful, Daryl was quick to pull out of you, jerking off before he exploded on the floor; whilst you rubbed your clit to completion.

"You okay sweetheart?" He asked. "Yeah," You responded with a heaving chest. "Just a little worried about the fact that the water feels a little chilly."

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[merakiui]

I saw your answer to the tier list where you mention the staff. Did you know Vargas is 2 years younger than Crewel? So, in theory, Vargas would have been a first-year when Crewel was a third-year.

I feel like there is a lot of room for some AU there where reader gets isekai'd into that timeline instead. Trein is the young(er) hot history teacher. Crowley and his eternal fae ass is probably the same as always. Downside is that Sam is only 10... so we'll have to take artistic license to age him up into our AU!

Omg the potential this has!!!!!! A Vargas and Crewel rivalry where they're both doing what they can to impress you. Vargas being a bit of a bully sometimes. T_T but it's also you who inspires him to continue working out and doing his best so that he can be the strongest. AAAAAAA sitting in an empty classroom beside Crewel while he sketches out different outfit designs and chats with you about them. You fawn over all of his designs; they're just so pretty and unique. As you flip through the notebook, so absorbed in Crewel's creativity, he's busy admiring you with a fond smile.

That line of "boys will be boys" and so it's Crewel and Vargas always trying to best the other in really petty, silly competitions. Professor Trein who usually comes between them if it gets out of hand and lectures the both of them on how they ought to be more mature. The three of you studying together in the library or sleeping over at the others' dorms. Occasionally skipping class to go smoke with Crewel. Always getting caught and punished by Trein LOL. Or joining Vargas for morning exercise. Maybe he sort of,,, drags you to it. It's important to stay in shape! Run laps with him! You draw the line at downing a dozen and more egg yolks. T_T you just want to sleep in and eat something sugary for breakfast...

Omg and all of the school events......... a dance or a visit to another arcane academy. Crewel designing an outfit for you for that dance!!!! Both him and Vargas aiming to be the first one to ask you to the dance WAAAAAAAA.

Maybe neither of them ends up confessing come graduation, and you never find your way home. Perhaps you become a professor at NRC alongside Crewel and Vargas, so all of you are reunited again as adults when they get jobs at NRC. And then you meet Sam and become fast friends with him as well!! Of course Crewel and Vargas are still in their rivalry. Seeing you again after so much time apart has fueled old feelings. <3 reminiscing about your school days with the lot of them. The students being so nosy and intrigued when they start to pick up on bits and pieces of the shared lore of their professors hehe.

[vmlnrznotfound]

Hello hellooooo first of all congrats on 300+ followers! I’ve been seeing ur fics all over recently and they’re so scrumptious omg ur writing <333

Saw that ur requests r open so i wanted to ask if u’d be willing to write sth for Hiori? Maybe like childhood friends trope where reader also has strict parents and they care a lot about academics/a certain extracurricular etc.

Congrats again and thank u for feeding the bllk community!!

maps we draw ourselves.

hiori yo x reader

a/n: thank you so much anonnie, im legit BLUSHING! i try my best!

the sun was bright and warm on a afternoon. at just seven years old, you and hiori were playing in the small backyard of his house, which had become your favorite hangout spot. the grass was freshly cut, and the scent of it mixed with the smell of the nearby barbecue your parents were preparing.

hiori had set up a makeshift fort using old sheets and a few wooden sticks. inside, it was a cozy little hideaway where you both could let your imaginations run wild. today, you were playing pirates, with hiori proudly wearing a pirate hat he’d crafted from cardboard.

“arrr, matey!” hiori declared, holding up a plastic sword. “we’ve got to find the treasure before the other pirates do!”

you giggled, playing along. “aye aye, captain yo! where do we start?”

hiori pointed towards the far end of the yard. “we have to sail through the wild jungle and avoid the dangerous traps!”

as you both pretended to navigate through the jungle of your backyard, you noticed hiori’s face turning serious. “hey, y/n,” he said quietly as you paused for a moment. “do you ever get tired of all the stuff we’re supposed to do? like school and... you know, everything?”

you looked at him, puzzled. “what do you mean?”

hiori sat down on the grass, “well, my mom and dad are always telling me i have to practice soccer. it feels like i don’t get to just play and have fun like this.”

“my parents keep saying i need to study hard to become a doctor. but i just want to play and not think about studying,” you explained.

hiori shrugged and picked up a small stick, pretending it was a treasure map. “maybe one day we’ll get to choose what we want to do, and we won’t have to worry so much.”

you smiled, feeling comforted by his words. “yeah, and until then, we can hunt for treasures, as pirates!"

hiori grinned, clearly pleased with the idea. “yes! and we’ll make sure to find all the treasure.”

the carefree days of pirate adventures became cherished memories. the small backyard fort was long gone, replaced by the responsibilities that came with growing up.

at seventeen, you and hiori were sitting on the front steps of his house, watching the sun dip below the horizon.

the conversations you used to have about treasure hunts and wild jungles had been replaced by talks about exams, future careers, and the weight of expectations.

“remember when we used to play pirates in the backyard?” hiori asked, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips.

you laughed softly, nodding. “yeah, we really thought we’d find some buried treasure back there.”

“i wish things were still that simple,” he admitted, his voice tinged with the same seriousness you’d first noticed all those years ago.

“me too,” you agreed, leaning back on your hands. “it feels like everything’s been decided for us, like we’re just following a map that someone else drew.”

hiori glanced at you, his expression thoughtful. “but maybe we can still find our own treasure, you know? maybe it’s not about what everyone else wants for us, but what we want for ourselves.”

you looked at him, surprised by the familiar words. it reminded you of that day in the backyard, when he’d said something similar about choosing your own path. “yeah, maybe you’re right,” you said, feeling a bit of that old excitement returning.

“so, what do you say, y/n? one last treasure hunt before we head off into the real world?” hiori asked, his grin widening.

you smiled back at him, feeling a surge of determination. “let’s do it, captain yo. we’ll find our treasure, no matter what.”

tag list: @fishii28 @someprettyname @ikuaiku

[rinstrumental]

ellie gf headcanons

# modern au. im in luv with her. this is so long oh my god its an illness

did karate from 1st grade all the way up to high school and basically considers herself your bodyguard

immediately offers you her hoodie without a second thought when you show the slightest signs of being cold. she lets you keep it too, of course. what kind of girlfriend would she be if she didn’t ???!!!!

she needs either your hands on her or her hands on you at all times. sosososo touchy and BIG on pda her kisses are inescapable. constantly has an arm around you or resting on your waist… the whole world needs to know. she’s actually insufferable i’m sorry but in the most endearing way ever how can you resist

“would you still love me if i was a ____???” she wants a serious answer too

genuinely thinks ur the prettiest person alive. which is kind of the bare minimum but she worships you truly

happy with any sort of date as long as it’s with you. fancy dinner? this is the only reason she keeps a suit and tie. staying in? what movie do you want, babe? running errands? she’s already waiting for you in the car!!!

speaking of cars she drives an old station wagon which used to be joel’s. ellie used to moan about how lame it was until you said that the back was perfect for sitting together during camping or stargazing…. and other activities too ;) wink wonk

gets flustered when she makes you flustered because you’re telling her that SHE did that?? she made u nervous??? shit man now shes blushing too

her love language is gifts she loves to spoil you with your favourite snacks and soft toys and even homemade gifts. she just wants you to see her in your room and have her on your mind as much as you’re in hers!!

it’s no secret that she’s an artist and it’s also no secret that her favourite subject to draw is youuu!!! her favourite thing to do is just have you sit across from her and draw what she sees

of course naturally that means she takes tons of pictures of you… to study for her drawings… and keep in her special photo album of you… and to look at when she misses you. Ofc

makes fun of you/teases you sometimes. she can be a mean bitch to other people but she would never actually hurt your feelings and you know that

ellie hates goodbyes. even if it’s after spending a full day together and you’re going to see her soon anyways… i just know she’s the kind of person who feels empty after hanging out with someone.

calls and texts about everything… and it’s always so cute :( she definitely has autocaps on

ellie: I drew you again!!

ellie: Hey babe I saw this funny bird it reminded me of u

ellie: I miss you so much. When can I see you again?

ellie: These cats r like us lol

keeps a pet gecko or something like that for sure. it’s you guys’ baby

her top two movie genres are horror and romance after that. the only reason romance is that high up is because it reminds her of you

does stupid romcom shit like hold a boombox outside your window. makes you mixtapes even though CDs are basically extinct (joel has a player thank god). corny pickup lines. asks you to be her valentine publicly. runs to your house in the rain. dances with you in said rain.

when she gets sick it’s like the end of the world omg… she needs u to be at her side 24/7 and hold her and keep her company and give her get well soon kisses, it’s essential to her recovery. doctors orders. he said it not her!

gets along so well with your friends and family. she does her research and takes this shit seriously! whatever it takes to make you happy because what’s better than watching your girlfriend get along with the people you love

she also takes her own family seriously - family time is important to her and she spends a lot of time with joel. it’s even better when you can join, some of her best memories are with the two of you

“i’m happy as long as you’re happy”

pet names galore. her personal favourite is just babe (classic) but when she likes others too (sweetheart, honey, darling etc she’s so cheesy it’s awful)

in conclusion she’s just a clingy sappy lesbian who’s absolutely head over heels for you. and you wouldn’t have it any other way <33

bonus: (these tweets that are so ellie)

[fettuccin-e]

I can’t stop thinking about Steven and Marc in oversized jumpers and how cozy they look (even tho they’re in a crisis at the time 😅) so requesting a nsfw fic about one/all of the moon boys finding the reader wearing their clothes and it does something to them

hi anon omg this request is so old and i am so sorry that I'm just getting to this!! this is so fun and YES the way marc spector would go fuckin FERAL over his S/O smelling like him,, like he's so possessive i love him sm!! i hope the smut makes up for my lateness. love u!!!

A Soft Ray of Sunlight

Tags: Marc Spector x Reader, fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls wrap it up irl, fuck them kids), kitchen sex lol, really light spit kink, possessive!Marc (w/c: 1.7K)

You’re in the kitchen when he sees you from the hallway, cooking dinner and humming to yourself as you swirl a sauce around in a pan.

Marc is used to you wearing Steven’s jumpers; you always claim that Steven always manages to find the softest ones, even though you have several others just like them. 

But this one, the jumper adorning your pretty body, the bottom of it just brushing the tops of your thighs, it’s his. Marc’s. It’s one he’s had for years, the cuffs of the sleeves starting to fray and a coffee stain on the side that he can’t manage to get out. You’re always beautiful, and that sweater looks better on you than it’s ever looked on him. 

And it’s all you’re wearing.

The sweater is big on you, but definitely not big enough to only be worn with panties, which is exactly what you’re doing. If you were to bend over, god, Marc would see everything.

His legs move of their own accord, the pull of you like gravity, endlessly drawing him in. His hands slide gently over your waist when he reaches you, and you jump slightly, pulled out of your reverie.

“Shit, Marc, you scared me,” you giggle, leaning your head back against his chest. His strong arms curl around your middle, melding you to him as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“No you’re not,” you whisper, turning in his arms to press your chest against his and kiss him softly. “You are a terrible liar, Marc Spector.” 

He moans softly into your mouth, clutching at your hips. Has this sweater always been this soft? It doesn’t feel nearly as good on him as it does on your skin, smelling like a mixture of you and him, intoxicating him. He never wants to wash it again, wants to keep it smelling like you forever.

You smile into his mouth. “Something got you worked up, babe?” 

Marc groans again, head swimming with your taste, your smell, the feel of you under his fingers. “You just,” he rasps, pressing kisses to your mouth between words, “God, you’re so pretty, baby. When- when did you take this sweater?”

You make a noise of understanding. “This morning, fresh out of the dryer. Just looked too comfy to fold.” You lean away from his mouth, chuckling when he whines softly. “Why? Do you want it back?” You know he doesn’t, but you still like to see him squirm.

You’re one of the few people in this world to break down Marc Spector’s stoic nature, and you’ve never been known to use your powers over him for strictly good things. Getting him desperate is just too fun.

“Please no,” he mutters, moving from your mouth to pepper kisses down your jaw and neck. “You look way better in it than I do.”

“Not possible,” you whisper, winding your hands into his hair to tug him back to your mouth. You can feel the outline of his cock through his sweatpants, pressing into your hip. You untangle a hand from his hair to palm the bulge, relishing in the wet gasp that rips out of Marc’s throat. “Happy to see me, Spector?”

“When you look like this, how could I not be?”

You lick feverishly into Marc’s mouth as he walks you backward, crowding you into the kitchen counter. His thick fingers dig into your hips, likely going to leave light bruises. “You know,” you whisper, pulling away from his mouth to drag a finger down his chest, teasing. “I’m still wet from last night.”

Marc chokes on a breath. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. Not to mention that I’m soaked whenever I see you.” You watch Marc’s mouth drop open a little bit, his pupils blown wide with arousal. “But you boys fucked me so good last night. I’m still dripping,” you lean in further, your lips brushing against his ear, “gaping for you.”

Marc groans loud, the sound ripped violently from his chest. He leans down, grabbing the backs of your thighs in his big hands to lift you until you’re sitting on the counter, your legs rising to wrap around his waist. “God, baby,” he mutters. “You wanna kill me?”

“Not kill you, just drive you crazy.”

“Mission fucking accomplished, sweetheart.” He licks into your mouth all over again, pressing himself into you. The position is perfect; from this height, his cock presses so perfectly against your pussy, the both of you only separated by your pesky clothing.

You whine into him, your hands moving down to push at his sweatpants till they’re around his thighs, freeing his aching cock. You wrap your hand around him to give him a long stroke, and he breaks from your lips to gasp, his eyes clenched shut.

“You gonna fuck me, Marc?” you murmur, pumping him slowly. “Make me drip even more?”

“Can I, baby?” he whines, and you answer him by licking into his mouth all over again, letting go of his cock to reach down and pull your panties down your hips. Marc grabs them as you work them down the fat of your thighs, tugging them roughly over your knees and letting them fall carelessly to the floor.

Then you both are colliding, an endless pull between you, never close enough. You grab at Marc’s cock again, sticky and throbbing, guiding the tip of him to your entrance. You weren’t lying; your boys had all come out to fuck within an inch of your life just the night before, leaving you still gaping and still leaking their cum. Used.

Marc has an iron-clad grip on your thighs, holding you steady as he presses in, reaching so deep it’s like you can feel him in your fucking stomach, knocking the breath out of your lungs. “Marc, Marc,” you whine, tucking your face into the crook of his neck and digging your nails into his broad back.

“Shit, baby.” He pulls out just a bit before rutting back in, and you choke on a moan. “You’re so fucking tight. How are you still,” he ruts into you again, and again, “so fucking tight?”

You can barely acknowledge his words, your brows furrowed as you concentrate on the stretch of him in your cunt, mumbling “s’big, Marc. So fucking big in me, gonna break me apart baby.”

An almost pained sound erupts from Marc’s throat, and suddenly he’s fucking into you like a man possessed, one hand traveling to the small of your back, snaking under the sweater to get to your heated skin, while the other travels up into your hair. He grabs a handful of it in a fist and yanks your head back from his neck, forcing you to look into his face, and fuck, Marc looks like an animal. His cheeks are flushed, his hair mussed, and his pupils are blown wide, intoxicated by the feel of you.

You can’t imagine how you must look, little grunts escaping your throat with every one of Marc’s thrusts into your needy pussy, your eyes shiny with tears. It’s so good, the stretch of his heavy cock, bullying into you just right. And then Marc shifts his hips just barely.

You shout wetly, jerking so hard you would have fallen off the table if not for Marc’s strong body pressed against yours, his hand pressed firm against your back. And he has the audacity to chuckle, like the bastard he is.

“Oh baby,” he coos, fucking into you hard at the very same angle, and your thighs are trembling, overwhelmed tears rolling down your cheeks. “That's the spot, pretty girl? Feeling good?”

You barely have the words to describe how amazing he feels, his fat cock pushing hard against your g-spot, unrelenting. “It’s so, it’s so good, Marc. Oh god, oh my fucking god.”

“Shit, taking it so good. So goddamn beautiful like this.” Your body bounces with every one of his thrusts, the hand he has in your hair keeping you from bumping your head into the cupboard behind you. He tugs your face towards him.

“Open.”

Your mouth drops open, almost unconsciously, and Marc spits into your sticky mouth. He groans like he’s dying when you swallow, unthinking and so fucking dumb on his cock that it’s got him lightheaded.

“Good girl,” he groans, and you whine in the back of your throat at the praise. Every thrust into your sensitive pussy feels like lightning rocketing up your spine, and your legs raise higher around Marc’s hips, your heels digging into his ass, urging him in again and again.

 “Gonna cum, gonna fucking cum, Marc,” you whisper, your throat tight and achy. “Please, please, please,” you don’t really know what you’re begging for, not really, but Marc answers your pleas anyway.

“Right behind you baby, c’mon, c’mon,” Marc grunts, rutting into you feverishly. “Gotta feel this pretty pussy make a mess around my cock.”

You press yourself into his neck again as you cum, wetting his shoulder with tears as you gasp wetly, your body shuddering uncontrollably. Marc is murmuring little praises into your hair as he finally presses his hips as far as he can go, cock pulsing and filling you with his cum. “So good, baby, y’did so good for me. Looking so pretty for me, sweetheart, how did I manage to land you?”

You answer him with a chaste kiss, tilting your head up from his neck to meet his lips. You cling to each other, unwilling to let go while you will your heartbeats to beat slower, in time with one another.

Marc thinks that he could bask in this moment forever, with you in his arms, warm and soft against him. He hasn’t had a lot of softness in his life. Maybe you’re the softest thing in the world.

Then you giggle softly under his chin, and it sounds like sunlight. He tilts his head down to meet your eyes, mirroring your blinding smile.

“Damn, if I knew that wearing your sweaters would make you fuck me like that, I’d never take them off,” you whisper, unwilling to interrupt the unshakeable sense of peace that fills the kitchen.

“Baby, if you did that, we’d never make it out of the apartment.”

[rafferty3207]

omg I'm the anon who requested the jamie x reader neighbours fic and boy you delivered! fucking love it! can't wait for part 2

This is so lovely anon, I'm so glad you liked it!!! For you, I will deliver a part two with the caveat that I'm so sorry I got carried away and now it will be in three parts (sorry again), but the last part will be the finale!!! Anyway I present to you:

Too Good to Be True (part two)

read part one here

warnings: allusions to abuse, mention of anxiety/panic attack, daddy issues, two hopeless idiots flirting, a bit of angst at the end but worth it (sorry again)

A/N: I have nothing to add except this gif is not mine and has turned me feral

It’s been several days since you left your phone number and you are nervous. 

You don’t get why you care so much.

It’s just Jamie, your annoying neighbour. Your annoying, but also extremely handsome neighbour. Your annoying, handsome neighbour who massaged your feet, and your legs, and almost your thighs and god you couldn’t think straight. You’d been able to get nothing done as you had spent the last few days just constantly replaying that evening in your head. And to make things worse, it turns out Annoying Handsome Jamie was in fact a very famous Premier League footballer. Who has also been caught having sex on TV. (Yes, you had binged the entirety of his Lust Conquers All series since that night, but that was neither her nor there.) 

After almost a week you had given up. The exhibition was just under two weeks away and you hadn’t seen him in the garden or outside the house at all. He had probably come to the conclusion that you were both too weird and too normal for him and the only conclusion was move on with your life and forget his stupid sexy face ever existed, when you got a text. 

u free tonight

Jxoxo

Of course, you wanted to play it cool. After all, you had spent the entirety of the week waiting for this message.

29 minutes and 59 seconds later.

I might be.

The phone immediately pings.

do u not know??

xoxo

Depends, what are you thinking?

thought u wanted a model

Xoxo

Of course, he was thinking about the painting. As you also definitely were. You were a professional artist. Almost.

What time?

ill come after the match

You spend your evening preparing and also perhaps figuring out an outfit that says 'casual bohemian artist that definitely doesn't care' while redoing your makeup twice. However, as the hours stretch on and on and on you are at the point of giving up and going to bed, when the doorbell finally rings.

You race down, before waiting a minute, quickly checking yourself in the mirror and pulling out your phone to pretend you had already been looking at something when you open the door.

But before you can pull the casual act, he walks right past you.

“Hello to you too, Jamie.”

He strides into your living room where the canvas is set up and immediately starts taking his clothes off.

“Woah, what do you think you’re doing there?”

“Er, I thought you were painting nudes?”

“Er no-”  At this point his shirt has already come off and he’s starting to unbutton his trousers. Of course he is very toned, with tanned arms and neck where his football shirt has been. You feel the breath knocked out of your body, glimpsing the very top of his boxers as you struggle for words.. He looks at you confused. Eventually you stutter an answer. "K-Keep the trousers on, okay?” 

“What should I do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do I pose, like?” You shrug.

“However you want to, Jamie.”

“I dunno what I want.” You sigh.

“You just need to stand there and look pretty.”

“Well I do that all the time, so.”

“Great. So just…keep doing that.”

Jamie smiles to himself.

“What is it?”

“So you do think I’m pretty?” He smirks at you. You fold your arms.

“What are you, a sixteen year old girl Jamie?” You start sketching. “Besides, you know what you look like.” You go back to drawing in silence. You swear you see his cheeks dust pink for a second before he ouffs his chest back out and smiles.

“Aren’t you going to ask if I think you’re pretty?”

You freeze.

“No, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m not sixteen. I am an adult woman and I don’t need random men for unsolicited affirmation, no matter how pretty they are.”

Jamie opens his mouth, before closing it again. Maybe that was a bit harsh, but what else could you say? Tell me how pretty you think I am Jamie. Or better yet, show me. I’m dying to know. You could practically feel the feminism leaving your body.

You dismiss these thoughts and get back to sketching. You can see Jamie is looking down and acting fidgety, swinging his arms.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” You walk over and plant your arms on his shoulders. He is surprisingly warm and firm to the touch, and you try not to blush. “Is it okay if I move you?”

He nods, surprisingly quiet. You turn him ever so slightly, before gently pushing him down onto your stool. As you move one of his (very muscly) arms, you swear you feel a slight tremor. Was he shaking? You step a little closer, a hand on his back. 

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Jamie.”

His face hardens.

“But I said I will, so I will.”

“But you don’t have to. Only do this if you want to.” You smile at him, and his face softens again.

“I do want to, trust me. It’s just been a long day.”

“Okay, but if you need to stop or take a break, just say the word.”

You step back to your canvas. You try to focus solely on the drawing, but every time he looks at you, you find your whole body heating up. Despite this, you steal glances anyway. He stares at you constantly, in a way that makes you feel stupid and giggly. Observing all the soft and hard lines of his body, you eventually start to notice small scars all over his body until you reach his hands. You don’t know why it took you so long to notice, but his knuckles are slightly bruised.

“Jamie?”

“Yeah?” 

“Tell me about your day.”

“Why? It was dead boring.”

“I don’t know. I find it helps me find the right mood.” You prepare your brushes. “You know, it tells me what colours to use.”

“Oh. I mean, nothing much happened.” He looks down at his feet. “I got up, went to play football, came here.”

“But why did you text me? Why today?”

“I dunno.” You sit in silence for a moment, as you mix the colours. “I mean, my dad came to the match.”

“Right.”

“Pulled his usual shit.”

“Usual shit?”

“Just being a complete dickhead.” You start painting. 

“In what way?”

“Saying stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Just the usual stuff.”

“You keep saying “usual” Jamie. I don’t think whatever he said is usual for most people.”

“What about your dad? He said that thing about you being a teacher right? Because you couldn’t paint or summat?” You put your brush down. 

“Yeah he did say that. He says a lot of shit, none of which I would consider usual. Or at least it shouldn’t be.” You step off your chair and towards Jamie, reaching gently for his hand. “We don’t just have to take this shit, you know.”

“I don’t fucking take it!” He pulls away. You flinch back. He looks alarmed as he realises. “I should go.” He starts to walk out.

“Jamie, I didn’t mean to upset you -” You walk after him as he paces towards the door. He halts at the entrance.

“I’m not upset,  I just - I came here because I didn’t want to think about my dad. When I’m with you, I never think about him. Or anything else, really.” He pauses. “I’m sorry.” Before you can reply, he runs off. 

The next few days pass by. You send a few texts to Jamie, but no reply. The exhibition is only a couple of days away now, so you try to keep yourself busy. But his words won’t stop swirling in your head to the point you struggle to sleep. So you do what you always do: paint. 

It’s not until one of these nights when you're up late at the canvas that you glance out of the window. Your heart stops. Someone is lying in Jamie's garden, very still. You dare to look closer. Is that..Jamie? He looks glassy eyed. He can't have...Without thinking, you run down.

"Jamie! Jamie!" Your heart is thumping in your ears so loudly you can't hear anything else. "Jamie are you okay?" You ask as you scramble to climb the fence. However just as you are almost over, you catch your foot, spectacularly falling over it into the bushes.  You hear that trademark laugh.

"Why are you laughing? I thought you were dead, dipshit!" You say, crawling out of the shrubbery. 

He remains lying down but he’s smiling at you now.

"Why would you think I was dead?"

"Why are you lying in your garden on your back completely still at 2am? Let's not pretend this is normal." You crawl down next to him.

“You’re going to think I’m stupid.”

“No I won’t.”

He looks away from you.

“I mean everyone else does, why wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t think they do.”

“There’s my dad. Plus, I’ve read Twitter.”

“You know how I feel about your dad and Twitter is full of very stupid people. But never mind them. I can promise you I don’t. And let’s be honest, I’m the only opinion that matters.” He scoffs as you offer him a pinky. But, he puts his pinky in yours before looking back up at the night sky.

"I can't get up."

"What? Are you injured?"

“No…I dunno, I told you it was stupid."

“It's clearly not that stupid. Are you okay Jamie?”

"I dunno. I was thinking about the other night with you and my dad and then I came outside because I needed some fresh air and then I lay down and started thinking about everything and now it feels like I'm stuck here. It's stupid -"

“Stop saying that.” You lie down and grab his hand. “Sometimes when you've gone through some shit, it comes out of your body in weird ways. But you're okay. We can stay here for as long as you like, but when we get up, you will be able to.”

He nods, and the two of you lie there holding hands in silence. You take some deep breaths and he follows. Eventually a small voice pipes up.

“I think I can go in now.”

You sit up and slowly pull him.

"See?"

He smiles at you gingerly before he looks down.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Huh?”

You look down. Both your knees are cut, along with one of your palms and your wrist.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” 

He gently holds your wrist up to the light. He looks sad.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I need to work on my graceful dismount. Either that or just walk around to the back door.”

“I mean, I dunno, I think you could give Simone Biles a run for her money.” You swat him.

“Oi, you cheeky shit! Next time I’ll just leave you for dead.”

“I think the blood loss is going to your head, we should treat that ASAP.” He leads you into his house. “I think I’ve got a first aid kit upstairs.”

He starts walking up and you follow him. He seems surprised. You realise your error.

“Oh, I can wait downstairs if you like.”

“Er, no, it’s fine.” He steps into a bedroom and starts rummaging around in what is clearly an ensuite bathroom. You sit on the edge of his bed and look around. There’s pictures of him and his mum, as well as some pictures with the team and one with a slightly older moustachioed man.

“Is that your dad?”

He pokes his head out and laughs. 

“No, that’s our coach Ted.” You look up at him. “He’s a nice guy though. Annoyingly nice. Almost too nice, if you know what I mean.”

“Right.” It was clear Jamie was soft on this man, but you wouldn’t push it today. He sits down and starts gently wiping the cuts. It is the same tenderness he held your foot, and it is the same tenderness that is slowly melting your heart. If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were starting to fall for Jamie Tartt.

You yawn as he applies the final plaster. “Right, you need to go to sleep.” He says, through his own yawn.

"I could say the same for you"

You sit up to leave, but hesitate. YOu feel Jamie’s about to say something.

“Hey, I don’t suppose.. You’d maybe fancy…”

You turn around.

“Staying around?”

Jamie looks at you pleadingly.

“No funny business I promise.” He looks up and offers you a pinky.

“What if I want funny business?”

“Eh?”

“I’m just messing with you Jamie. Besides, I’ve already stolen your knickers anyway.”

“Someone told me that’s a weird thing to say to people.”

“Well, that person sounds very wise.” You look around. “Can I use your bathroom?”

He gestures towards it and you go in. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you think: what the fuck is going on here? You splash some water on your face and tell yourself to get a grip.

“There’s a spare toothbrush in the blue pot if you need it.” Jamie calls through the door.

“Ew gross Jamie, I don’t want to use one of your many girlfriend’s toothbrushes!”

“I’ll have you know that’s brand new as I don’t have any girlfriends at the moment. Although there are sanitary towels if you need them love.”

“Piss off you patronising git!”

“‘Ey, I was trying to be nice and a good feminist and that.”

You brush your teeth before coming out and leaning against the doorframe.

“No girlfriends? What happened to the Island’s top scorer?”

He groans before flopping back onto the bed.

“I thought you didn’t know who I was.”

“I’ve been doing my research.” You get into the bed next to him. He flashes you a dirty grin.

“Bet you have, you little perv.”

“Me? The perv? What you did in that jacuzzi was a crime to my eyes, and probably in several countries.”  

“Woah, you have been doing your research - that was like episode 42? 43?”

“What can I say, you make good television?”

Jamie pulls the duvet back before hovering for a moment. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” He gestures to the bed.

“I know. But I’ve been in your position before, and I really needed a friend back then. And I think you would do the same.”

“Any time.”

You squeeze his hand.

“Now go to sleep, you menace.”

“Aye aye captain.”

____

You wake up and find yourself once again not in your own bedroom. In fact, not only are you not in your own bedroom, but you appear to be cuddling Jamie Tartt. You panic silently. Your leg is swung over his, while his arm is draped over you. You try to move, but still asleep, he squeezes you a little tighter. And then something really surprising happens.

He kisses you. Just a little kiss on the forehead, but your chest is fluttering.  You hate to admit it but, it feels just so natural. You’re so content and relaxed in his arms then…

Fuck. You fell back asleep. You’re in the exact same problem as before.

This time however, you are both awoken by Jamie’s phone going off. He reaches to switch it off, eyes still closed, but then it rings again. And again. The third time his eyes shoot open.

“Shit!”

“What is it?” You ask from behind bleary eyes.

“The match!”

You slowly sit up and watch him run around and get dressed, silently handing him things on occasion. He runs downstairs and you plod along after him, still half asleep. He runs out of the door, before abruptly stopping and turning around.

“Aren’t you going to wish me good luck or something?”

You wrinkle your nose at him in confusion.

“I don’t need to. You’re going to smash it anyway.”

“How do you know that?”

You shrug and smile. 

“I just know.”

At this point, he strides right up to you, before cupping your face in both his hands. 

“Jamie what are -” Before you can finish, he kisses you, hard. Your eyes flutter closed and you melt into the kiss, before he pulls away, but only just. His arm reaches around the small of your back and his forehead touching yours, he whispers.

“Wait for me.”

He runs off to his car, and you stroke your bottom lip, where you trace the swell of where he used to be.

Your heart is still pounding and you are unsure what to do with yourself, so you try to make yourself at home. You take a very long, hot shower before getting changed. Of course, you didn’t have any clothes here, so you find some pyjama shorts along with one of Jamie’s old jerseys.

You sit down to watch the match. You had never really gotten into football, but now you were glued to the screen. You couldn’t believe that the little Jamie on screen was the same one who shared a bed with you last night. And the same Jamie that kissed you…

The game is electric, and Jamie in particular is the standout player. Even the commentators remark on his zest this match as he keeps skilfully weaving through the players to lead Richmond into not one, not two but three goals.

Once the match is done, you watch, still glued to your seat when Jamie is invited to an interview.

“Jamie the way you played today was extraordinary, against Man City too. If you don’t mind us asking, what happened?”

“Ah well, I was really inspired by Simone Biles. She’s honestly changed my life.” At that moment, he turns straight to the camera, grins and winks, and you feel like he’s somehow winking right at you. Your heart skips a beat. You were really in trouble.

You look at your phone and Jamie Tartt is trending. Simone Biles herself has already tweeted reminding everyone she is a married woman and has never met Jamie. There are plenty of other women, including some famous other gymnasts and celebrities offering their Biles-like services to Jamie in some rather explicit tweets. You wonder if Jamie reads these ones too.

You walk to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea and as you wait for the kettle to boil, you look at Jamie’s calendar. There’s all sorts of notes, primarily training and matchs but you notice your exhibit is there too, with a little heart drawn around it. Jamie never stopped surprising you. But then a cold shock goes down your spine. You remembered today’s date. You are meant to be going to the gallery this evening to plan the exhibition. Shit. You check the time. You’ve still got three hours left, but you need to get back into your flat ASAP. You scramble around before realising that you had left your phone in the flat last night in the chaos to get out. But you also remembered Jamie and what he had said.

Wait for me.

You write a little note and stick it on the fridge.

____

Jamie comes back way later than he planned. Of course, after the match, there were drinks and celebrations but he couldn’t concentrate on them, just trying to leave to get back to you. He finally manages to break away, but when he gets home, he finds the living room empty. He searches around the rest of the house, and you are nowhere to be found. He checks his phone. No messages. He gets a message through from Keeley about how he’s trending online. 

Of course he sees all the Simone Biles stuff and smiles to himself. He made a note to send Simone Biles a message in future, if this all worked out. Then he sees all the stuff other women are saying online. A lot of it is quite graphic and he wondered what you’d think. He imagined the two of you laughing together at them. Then he sees. The tabloids are already speculating. Not only do they actually think he’s having an affair with Simone Biles, but they have already posted some paparazzi shot of him with Keeley, along with long extensive timelines of his tumultuous dating history. His stomach drops. Anyone would run away if they saw this much baggage.

He tries to ring you. Once, twice, three times, No pick up. He’s desperate and pacing, until he realises he can just walk over to your front door. He rings the bell several times, before loudly knocking. Still nothing.

He can’t believe how much he’s fucked it. He knew he shouldn’t have kissed you, but he couldn't help it. No one had made him feel like this, like he was going crazy but also that he was calmer than he had ever been, like riding a lifeboat in the centre of the storm. As he walks back into his flat and into his kitchen, he doesn’t see the small corner of a note that has fallen under the fridge. He checks his phone again. 

Still nothing. What could he do?

____

Sorry for the angst kids, hope it was worth it and the finale will be juicy!! lmk if you want to be tagged in the final part!! Not sure if I've done these tags right, apols if not!!

@skewedcherries @e-mmygrey @reading-blogs @alex-sulli @cameoutstruggling93 @sqrlgrl22 @maydayfigment @aiyaiy @alipap3 @okkkkkkksure @city-of-cards

[kaiju-krew]

Hey there! Firstly, big big fan of your art and headcanons, ty for your cool and awesome big brain ❤️ Now that you’ve seen the movie, I’m wondering what your thoughts are on Shimo??? I’ve just seen impressions of her so scattered. (I saw your post on how she will NOT be treated as a pet, and I so appreciate that.)

I will say, for me the ‘old gal’ vibes are so strong and I’m here for it. Like when Goji blasts his atomic breath into the sky at the end and she’s looking at it with such awe and her cute super gummy smile, it reminds me of when a grandma gets shown some common piece of technology that the rest of us are used to, but she just can’t heckin believe it because she lives in a damn cave??? I loved that.

hi hi! omg u think i have a big brain...... compliment of the century.... i must have ppl fooled bcuz i am viscerally dumb most of the time

anywAYS. gxk spoilers below (and a lot of ranting)

shimo my beloved💙 i appreciate most interpretations of her, besides people who are just straight up caling her a dog. and like, not in the way i’d compare goji to a cat? for me it's more mannerisms based, so for goji my main expression/mannerism inspirations are cats, wolves, and komodo dragons (obviously), and for mosu it's owls and cats, with a crumb of horses because of their 'ear' communication so i use that with her antennae.

sorry for tangent but anyways. i dont need someone barking at me that i call goji a cat/draw him acting like a cat so calling shimo ‘kong’s pet dog’ is fine. i think its the difference between goji having the personality i characterize him with + mannerisms inspired by other animals, vs. him having no personality besides Being A Cat. like, he’s a dumbfuck but he’s clearly an intelligent creature capable of communication and understanding. i make a lot of shitposts but truly in my personal hc i’d never reduce him to ‘pet level intelligence’

i think i’m extra touchy about people calling her ‘kong’s pet’ because like. dawg. did you watch the movie? she was JUST freed from being skar’s slave/beast of burden/abused pet whatever you wanna call it. why would you want her to become another creature’s pet again?(obviously minus the abuse) idk mannn it just feels…. reductive somehow. she clearly shows intelligence and understanding when she realizes what’s happening during the fight and helps to kill skar. i just refuse to reduce her entire character to kong’s pet status bcuz that makes me uncomfortable asf.

as a disclaimer, you’re welcome to have whatever hc you enjoy. me expressing my personal thoughts on the matter isn’t an attack on anyone who characterizes her that way, i’m just not interested in engaging with it in the slightest.

DOUBLE ANYWAYS i just needed to get that outta my system. TIME FOR CUTE FUN IDEAS YAHOOO

i’m seeing mixed info about her age so idk where she actually sits there?? i remember seeing something like she’s the First Titan but i also think the novelization of the movie said she’s only 3 million years old?? when im p sure they’ve said goji is 250+ million years old so…. i have no clue there lol. personally she feels less jaded and grumpy than goji does to me so my brain automatically sees her as similar or younger bcuz of my Grumpy Old Man bias.

i’m still workin out my ideas for her but based on how the movie ends i like to think she helps kong with relocating the apes to a better home, and they mostly live in HE. her n kong venture up for surface dates bcuz she gets what she fucking deserves 💙

goji nearly has an aneurysm the first time they come up, since mosu literally takes them for a lil tour of monster island. bro standing there clenching his fist like the arthur meme, he begrudgingly knows she’s right and eventually he gets used to it

i got more ideas cookin for her but this post is already too damn long cuz of my ranting time to stfu

SHIMO BEST GIRL 10/10

[thegoober010]

HI the mettaton headcanons were AMAZING I LOVED THEM!!

Ok I have a bit of a specific request SO IF YOU CANT DO IT I WONT BE UPSET!!

But could you do a oneshot where Mettaton finds reader’s drawings of him, and old love letters they never gave him, and he realizes they love him AND THEN READER FINDS HIM LOOKING THROUGH THEM AND SJFJFJFJDJFJJD sorry im SO NORMAL ABOUT METTATON

-🐾 (im claiming my place as paw print anon now)

OMG I AM SO SORRY I DID NOT SEE THIS EARLIER GRRRR I WAS BEING SILLY YESTERDAY BUT I AM BACK ON TRACK NOW 😈😈

AND ALSO HELL YEAH I CAN DO IT DEARIE OMG TYSM IM GLAD YA LIKED THE HEADCANONS <33!!

I SHALL GLADY DO THIS REQUEST PAW PRINT ANON!!!

also IMA DO IT LIKE THAT THEY'RE ALREADY TOGETHER JUST THAT LIKE reader got too shy to give the letters/drawings and such to him even after they got together/didn't see the point after YA KNOW ANYWAYS LETS GET INTO IT

as usual gn! reader <3!!

TW/CWS -> NONE JUST FLUFF <3!!!!

word count -> 1.8k/1,848

"Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever?"

"Thanks so much for helping me out Mettaton!" You grinned as you picked up the huge overfilled box with your clothes. Mettaton turned his head over to you as you spoke, giving you a playful smirk, " Awe no need to thank me darling~! I'm always happy to help you out, especially since it's helping you move out into my home." Mettaton replied flipping his hair as he looked for any more boxes to put into the trunk of your car. Your face turns a light shade of pink due to his little pet names. You let out a soft chuckle as you open the door "Heh, still thank you, Uh I think there might be a few more boxes in the basement, could ya check for me?" You ask. Mettaton nods "Of course dearie~! Leave it up to me!" he says putting a hand on his hip before walking down to the basement to check for anymore boxes.

As you walk out to put the box in the trunk you slouch onto the side of the car, letting out a soft sigh. Jesus these boxes were heavy! Sometimes you forget how much stuff you buy.

As you were relaxing outside and taking a break from all the heavy lifting Mettaton was searching all throughout the basement. He was checking every crook and crevice of the basement so that he wouldn't accidentally leave anything behind. His metallic feet making a loud clanging noise as he walked, his eyes shifted over to a small box on the side of a dusty desk. He raised a brow as he quickly made his way to it. "Hehe, almost didn't notice this!" Mettaton giggled to himself as he gently grabbed the box and inspected it. As he moved it up to his eye level a small note escaped out of the open box. He raised a brow before bending down and picking it up. He inspected the note quickly, seeing how the envelope was open he let himself look inside. He took out the small note from the envelope, a small peek never hurt anybody, right? He skimmed over the note, his metallic body quickly heating up as he read every word from it.

'Mettaton, I wanted to give you this note because I've been wanting to tell you how much I truly love you, I love you more than anyone I have ever met, you're one of the first people, or well robots, to have ever made me feel this way. My heart beats a trillion times faster when I'm with you, I start to sweat and I dont know what to say, you just catch my attention every time you're near me or talk to me, you're one of the bets things to have ever happened to me and to have appeared in my life, no one has ever caught my attention like you. I hope you know what I mean, I hope you say the same to me, I hope you love me the same, because I love you so much more than you could ever imagine, I love you, so so much.' Mettaton read the note, over, and over, and over again. Each time he read it he could feel his body heat up and his heart (or well metallic heart- or monster heart? not even sure-) beat 10 times faster. A playful smirk quickly formed on his lips before he put the note back in, his eyes heart shaped as he placed the box down onto the desk. He opened up the box and saw even more letters. He grabbed a few of them and opened them, he read them as quickly as possible to not make it seem like he's taking to much time down in the basement.

'Ugh I don't even know why I feel like this, Mettaton I love you so much more than you could ever imagine, I know this note is a bit stupid, I know you probably would never like me back, but I just wish I could tell you already, I hope I don't just give up on this note like all the others but anyways I love you so much Mettaton, I genuinly do and I hope you feel the same. Ive never felt like this with anybody besides you. I feel like being with you my whole life, I feel like spending all my time with you, I want to spend all my time with you give you all my attention and love. I want to be with you for as long as I possibly can! I hope we can. I love you so much.' Mettaton could not stop reading these notes, god they were just so sweet! Mettaton let out a soft laugh, "Did they really think I wouldn't have liked them? Pff, this cutie really had no idea how much I loved them before huh." Mettaton thought out loud. He quickly opened up all the other notes, reading them. His body was currently overheating from joy and love. His pupils were heart shaped as he read through all of these little love notes that you had never given to him before. "I wonder why they didn't tell me about these notes now that we're together! Hehehe, I'll have to ask them later." He muttered, you both were daring after all, so he's a tads bit confused why you never gave him these notes after you confessed to him, he understands these were form way before you had confessed, but he wonders why you never gave them to him now that you two are together after all they're from the past and they honestly are super sweet.

He let out a soft chuckle before grabbing all the letters and organizing them. He closed them and peered inside the box once more before putting back the letters. He noticed a few more papers inside. Mettaton turned his head over to the stairs which led to the living room floor. He didn't hear any footsteps so he assumed it was safe to check. He grabbed the papers and gently placed them on the desk, he flipped through them. They were all little doodles of you and him together. They were mainly of you two going on dates and your little date ideas or about you thinking of him. He placed a hand on his mouth as he let out little giggles. His body was overheating as he looked through each one of them. As he looked through each of them he couldn't help but have a huge smile on his face. While he was giggling and smiling like an idiot at these notes and drawings he wasn't really paying much attention to his surroundings so he didn't hear you coming down to the basement, but once he heard your voice it was too late, you had caught him in the act of looking at your old and meant-to-be secret love-letters and doodles.

"Hey Mettaton I think that was all the boxes are ya done hereeee-..... uh- honey.... what are you doing...?" You ask as you had been making your way downstairs. You stopped midway on the stairs as you realized he had found that old box filled with your old love-letters and drawings. Mettaton turned his head over to you, a laugh escaped his lips and a playful smirk formed on his face as he saw your red, embarrassed face. "Hello darling! Nothing much just looking at these wonderful little drawings and letters you made to me in the past! Hopefully ya don't mind dear!" Mettaton replied putting the drawings and letters back gently. He closed the box and carried it, he walked over to you and looked down at your blushing, embarrassed face. He pinched your cheek as he laughed "No need to be so embarrassed! These are adorable I think I'll keep them!" Mettaton grinned, you tried to take away the box but due to his tall stature he was able to keep them out of your reach by holding them higher. "Mettaton!! Those are private! You weren't ment to find them! They're really old they're from before we got together and- and they're really bad!" You replied, your tone filled with shame as you crossed your arms, you hid your face with one of your hands trying to hide your embarrassment and just yourself in general as if that would work.

Mettaton smirked and shook his head. "But they're cute! I like them! So what if they're old and cheesy? They just show how much you really love me, no need to be so embarrassed!" Mettaton chuckled ruffling your hair. You grumbled in response causing Mettaton to take your hand of your face and pinch your cheek once more, admiring your cute features. "You look so adorable when you're all embarrassed like this! Just look at you darling so cute~!" he teased causing you to stumble all over your words. You let out a grumble.

"I'm taking these with us dearie! Now come on let's get going so we can move everything in early! We wouldn't want to be unpacking all your stuff late at night now would we? We don't want you missing out on your beauty rest hehe!" Mettaton giggled before using his arm to pick you up. Despite your many protests he loved picking you up, being able to keep you so close to him physically and being able to show everyone how close you two are made him very happy for some reason, it felt like he was able to show you off like this and he loved it! He giggled as he brought you two to the car, he placed you down so that he could open the back car door and place the small box on the seat. Once he did he closed the door and looked down at you. "Awe don't look at me like that dear~! It's not my fault your little love letters were so cute that I want to keep them." Mettaton remarked noticing your blushing face. "Ugh it's just a bit embarrassing is all..." You mumbled.

Mettaton placed his hand on his hip. He put his other hand on his chin as he seemed to think for a bit. "Hmmm, well, no need to be embarrassed! Those little notes just show how much you love me darling~!" he smirked. "Now come on, get in the car so we can get going, I want to get home and relax with you already!" Mettaton smiled as he bent down to give your face multiple little pecks on your cheeks, forehead and lips, leaving you all red in the face and feel embarrassed but also lovely. You gave him a peck on the cheek before nodding. "Fine, fine, let's get going then." You reply with a soft smile forming. He grins widely as he played with you hair. "Good~! Oh and- don't be scared to make me some new letters or drawings hehehe!! I'll appreciate every single one of them!" "Hm, fine, if that's what you want my love." You reply.

"Heh, I love you so much darling!"

[ssahotchnerr]

going in a babymoon with aaron 🥺 going to greece or somewhere else in europe for like months and documenting how ur bump changes over those months. u end up running out of clothes that fit bc u werent expecting ur bump to get so big 😭 and every month being like “baby is the size of ___!!!” and buying the fruit/vegetable to show aaron 😁

- 🍓

omg that is EVERYTHING cw; fem!reader, descriptions of pregnancy

UGH a babymoon with aaron 🥰🥰🥰 he'd be so so so sweet and even more attentive if it were possible - making sure you're hydrated, that you're getting your steps in, which is SO easy due to sight seeing and it's so exciting seeing new places!!! but he makes extra sure you're not overexerting yourself, insisting you sit and take a breaks here and there, and again, staying hydrated - the man has an extra water bottle on him at all times. and once you get back to the hotel, he's gently massaging your ankles and feet after a longgg day of walking 😭 and as the baby grows, it becomes a nightly ritual too because of your ankles swelling up, and aaron is more than happy to dote on you 🥺 you're doing all the hard work, so he'll help in any way he can <3

if you're nauseous :( aaron's more than willing to spend the day in the room with you <3 just laying in bed, giving you kisses, rubbing your belly gently and talking to the baby, saying sweet words and sometimes says something like "ease up on your mom please🥺" 😭😭 because you've just been in the bathroom all morning :( BUT you're literally not going to lift a finger on his watch. he fluffs your pillow, makes sure you're comfy in bed, draws the curtains if you need a break from the sun, makes sure the temperature of the hotel room is just right. and if you get nauseous while sight seeing :((( aaron pulls you to the side, finds a shady spot, and gives you some water - his eyes are full of concern and a tad touch of guilt - he feels bad because he wishes there was more he could do :((( because he greatly contributed to the newest member of the hotchner family, but yet you're the one dealing with the not-so-great parts of being pregnant :((( he gives you a second to see if it passes and if you feel alright/want to keep going, or if you prefer to go back to the hotel, that's perfectly okay too <3333

late night cravings? he'll run to the store if room service doesn't have what you want/is closed, regardless if he even knows where a store is due to being in a different county - he will find one 😭 AND!! before you even left for the babymoon, aaron does his research when it comes to restaurants, and makes an itinerary of places to go 😭 so you're getting all your necessary nutrients while away, what food options there are that you can eat while pregnant, etc..

finding out the gender while there too 🥰🥰🥰 hehe the two of you make a lil date night out of it - dressing up, a fancy dinner, and then finding a reallyyyy romantic place at sunset to open up that little card that has the baby's gender on it 🥰 or!!!! you find a local bakery and have them put blue or pink frosting inside 🥹🥹🥹

and after showing the fruit/veggie to show aaron once, just a cute - "hey look! this is the size of our baby :D" he has to download that app himself too for his phone - the one tells you what size fruit the baby is hehe 🤭 he'll consistently report the current size to you over breakfast <33333 he checks it like social media hehe <3

AND every month aaron insists on taking a polaroid of your baby bump progress 🥹🥺 hehe he loves comparing all the pics throughout the months and once the lil baby is a bit older - aka old enough to sit up hehe - he has them on their lap, and is showing them the pictures <3333 and tells them "that's you growing in momma's belly :D" 😭😭😭😭 and he takes sooo many pics of you sight seeing!!! hehe you have that pregnancy glow and he loves it, so he wants as many pics as he can get of you showing off that bump where your little one is growing <3333 so he'll show the baby those too!!! and tells them just look at all the places you've already been!!! while we were celebrating you!!! 🥰💓💞💕💓

[allineedisonedream]

omg i stumbled across your blog recently and your art is gorgeous!!! i love the style and the way you draw dick in particular so much!

also i couldn’t stop thinking about your tangled au it’s so clever! it got me thinking of an au of your au (if that’s presumptuous or annoying feel free to ignore this ask lol). but it always bugged me slightly in the original tangled that rapunzel could remember stuff from when she was a baby bc babies can’t do that lol (obv she also has magic glowing hair so suspension of disbelief and all). but what if dick was actually older when slade (or court of owls tbh take your pick) kidnapped him? like he came under bruce’s care just like in canon after his parents died, and was around long enough to become brothers with jason, and tim had just been adopted when dick and bruce have a fight and dick storms off. not as bad as comics and bruce doesn’t kick him out bc he’s not an ass lol, but maybe dick wants to do more with his powers and bruce is overprotective, so dick storms out fully intending to come back, but slade has been watching him and takes this chance to kidnap him. and when bruce goes looking for him all he finds is a bloodstain and no dick.

and obviously dick is very keen on escaping the creepy dude who’s kidnapped him, but slade brings him to the basement of the tower and begins to torture/brainwash him sort of like the apprentice arc. and over time bc slade sucks and is good at the whole brainwashing thing, dick slowly looses his memories and eventually can’t remember a life outside of the tower at all. and he continues to grow up in the tower with slade as his “father” and he always has this sense that something isn’t quite right, but he can’t put his finger on it. like he has all these weird torture-like scars that he can’t remember getting, but slade tells him that it was from when he was young and before slade rescued him, and that’s why the world is so scary and dangerous and he has to stay in the tower where slade can protect him. and ofc he does bc slade loves him and wouldn’t lie to him right? and he doesn’t know why the name richard doesn’t fit him quite right, or why his heart races when slade appears unexpectedly (that’s how love works right?). but he stays in the tower like he’s supposed to until wally and roy show up.

and slowly after traveling with them he begins to get weird flashes of both painful and good memories, and strange sensations of deja vue. while meanwhile bruce is still all brooding and mourning bc it was his fight that led dick to run away. and added angst is that jason and tim actually remember and miss dick, even though tim had just started to get to know him. and damian is angsty bc he’s the only one never to have met dick (handwavy on the ages just like dc lol). meanwhile the kingdom still remembers and mourns the charismatic adorable prince that they lost.

and then when slade eventually catches up to and captures wally and roy, dick offers to give himself up and promises never to escape if slade spares them. and it’s extra sad bc he finally remembers what he’d be giving up. he remembers bruce and alfred and his brothers, and he remembers all the trauma slade put him through, and he’s willing to go through it all again to save wally and roy (bc is it really dick grayson if he isn’t super self sacrificing lol). and ofc it eventually ends happily and dick is delighted to go back to his family with his new friends and see his old brothers and meet his new brother all with a new haircut.

but yeah overall your au wormed its way into my brain and i couldn’t stop thinking about it lol, it’s so good!!!!

Ahjajfk thank youuuu<3

And OMG, this is amazing! Beautifully written, yes, absolutely love all the details, especially Slade's and Dick's relationship in all this. I've actually thought about him being taken later on so Tim and Jason would also remember Dick. But I think I started overthinking everything and made it way too complicated (I think I wrote about 20 pages of notes and stuff, I kinda got lost in them. I was/am pretty obsessed with this AU), so I just reeled back a bit and stayed close to the plot. It also simplifies things; I don’t have to rewrite the whole story, which, with my overthinking skills, would take forever. 💀

And that part with Slade making Dick forget who he was is great. I kept the whole AU pretty open with some stuff for imagination. My running idea at the moment is that he got sick when he was 8, so Bruce found the flower, and later Slade kidnapped him, making him forget everything and thinking Slade is his father.

But yeah, OMG, this is awesome. I totally love it. I tried to make it as detailed as possible story-wise, but at the same time, I really needed to limit myself to finish fast because I was scared I would lose interest or don’t have the patience haha But Now I’m kinda even more excited about how people will react to the next chapters. 👀

[milkbreadandtadpoles]

soup and stars

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snip: you keep sukuna's favorite after workout drink in your fridge. and no, you don't frequent that store. sukuna looks at you like you hung the moon and painted the sky yourself when you're either on the brink of death or not paying attention (it's only with his eyes, though. he's a certified rbf). the two of you have been hooking up for over a year with little conversation outside of snarky comments and emojis he doesn't get.

and he sometimes takes care of you when you're sick for five hours only.

warnings: suggestive language, sukuna being a parallel of this guy i used to hookup with who was srsly emotionally constipated and really milked my daddy issues, reader being dumb (lol me), probably a lot of run on sentences and weird descriptions but i am not srry ab it, no Y/N here, a lot of parentheses for some reason

authors note: omg hey. i have this a03 and i thought i'd put a tumblr to pair it together cuz i had an old tumblr but i was kinda done w her (may she rest in peace!) anywayyy my name is lillie, hi again. hope u enjoy this!! luv me some sukuna who reminds me of all my bad flings.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆｡°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒｡⋆୨୧˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆｡°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒｡⋆୨୧˚

Since when did you get sick like this?

This time, not that time you lied to your boss, you have an actual stomach bug. Stomach thing. Food poisoning from bad sushi. You don't know.

What you do know, however, is that everything smells bad, you can’t stomach anything other than a handful of saltine crackers. You couldn’t even finish your coffee yesterday morning; you’re just coming down from a fever. Everything is hot and cold, nothing feels right on your skin. Noises are too loud, but the silence is making your ears bleed. 

Curled up into the sheets, you shiver. It rocks over you, feeling cold despite your body burning off whatever infection is brewing in your gut. Your skin feels crusty yet damp, scalp itchy and pulled back into two haphazard buns. Stray strands lay over your forehead that twinkles with cold sweat.

Vampire Diaries plays in the background, volume loud enough so you can hear where you’re at within the series but quiet enough to give you grace if you wish to take another four hour nap. You don’t even want to get on your phone, ignoring the occasional, silent buzzes and flashing light that draw your eyes away from the fuzz of your blanket.

Time passes in a druken haze, not knowing whether you slept or not, not feeling entirely there at all. You fail to count the amount of times you got up to throw up or sit on the toilet, thankful the walls are snug enough to rest your head on the wall of it to contemplate if it’s worth passing out before you gather your wits and crawl back into bed.

There’s a rustle in your sheets, a distant sound of intro music for the vampire show.

“You still watchin’ this shit?” A gruff voice sounds from above you.

Your brows furrow in your sleepy haze- you don’t have energy to fight an intruder, pulling the sheets over your head that throbs from lack of everything. Horribly big hands paw at the clothed dip in your waist. And you let out a mixture of a whine and huff at the realization that your little fling (if you could even call it that) picked a horrible day to play.

“Sukuna,” You murmur, drawing the blankets higher above the crown of your head before he has a chance to yank it down and see your very unprepared self, “Not a good time.”

Sukuna, an occasional fuck and lackluster addition to your friend group, scoffs a laugh, muttering something about you really being a freak, something about thanking your dad for giving you all these issues that only he can handle as he gropes the flesh of your ass.

And it would feel so lovely if you weren’t on the brink of death.

“Eggroll. All the eggrolls.”

He groans, lifting his hand away from you in agreement to the safe word (because that one time when the two of you didn't have one and you reacted that way actually scared the shit out of him). 

“I’m sick.” You add quietly, urging your body to morph into a tighter ball. If Sukuna were his younger brother, or his younger brother’s friend, you’d ask either of them to cover you with another blanket. Or to refill your water bottle. Maybe even run to the store down the road and grab you some soup. But this is Sukuna, and-

There’s a harsh tug at the blanket covering your head, and you try to weakly grip the fabric in place.

“That’s why you didn’t answer my text? ‘Cause you’re all disgusting and shit?” He questions, giving one more quick tug to reveal your messy hair, the tint to the apples of your cheeks. The way his gaze feels makes the very top of your gut churn, and you scrunch your face as you decide whether or not you need to puke again.

“Mhm.” You nod, begging for the fabric back with a soft tug. Sukuna relents, snorting as you cover your head back up.

His body weight makes your bed frame squeak as he repositions himself to slouch next to you, and you peer at him through the crack of the blanket. He pulls out his phone, typing on it lazily. Through your bubbling stomach, confusion festers simply because he isn’t moving.

“Thought you not replying was you trying to be cute ’n shit.” A hand makes its way onto your lower back, the weight of it making your eyes bulge in silent surprise. With all your strength, you shake your head and whisper a soft sorry. He tuts, like all weirdly immature but mature, rude but nice and confusing older brother types do, dismissing your apology with a little pat on your back.

Another pat, and you’re snuggling into the blankets and letting your eyes close, mapping the way his hand feels and ignoring the way your stomach cramps. You hear the distant sound of a picture being taken, only being able to mutter a humiliated groan. There's a vibration where your phone is, and you know that the group chat has been notified of your predicament. 

“You eat? Take a shower?” Sukuna asks, mastering the art of making his concern dismissive. The silence on your end answers everything he needs to know, humming in acknowledgement. You’re a stubborn little shit who likes to suffer in isolation, he’ll give you that.

He synchs a basketball game to your TV, adamantly rotating between patting and rubbing your back until you’re snoring and curled up next to his lap.

When you wake up, you’re still cold, still sweating off your fever. You peers towards the bed, noticing the empty spot but the basketball game still softly playing on the screen. For a moment, you let your head slump back into the mattress before you force yourself out of bed to pee.

The weight in your body is too overwhelming to be horrified by your appearance when you emerge to make your way into a shared bathroom with your roommate. They’re all gone for work, and you don’t have the wit to ask where Sukuna got the time off to come fuck you in the middle of the day. Or why he was looking at your location. 

“I forgot how much of a bitchy face you have.” He comments, voice a note softer than you would usually hear, as you pad towards the bathroom. You grumble a quiet fuck you, slinking towards the bathroom.

You fix your hair to the best of your ability- standing up too long made you throw up. Your abdomen feels like it’s gone to three HIT classes in a row, hardly having any reserves to help you stand and brush your teeth. So you do it knelt over the bathtub, making sure to lock the door to make sure that stupid person of interest doesn’t see you so weak.

Rinsing your mouth out knelt over a tub is a new low, spitting the globs of toothpaste and water into the drain before you turn it off and brace the sides of the tub to stand and wander back out into the kitchen. Your bones feel like brittle, a bowling ball in your stomach forcing your posture to look horrifyingly old. It's been two days but you've aged thirty years. 

“Hi.” You greet weakly, rubbing your eyes before putting your arms back down as swiftly as you can. When was the last time you shaved?

Sukuna nods back, digging through a plastic bag. It’s only a few seconds before you’re sitting on the floor. The tile makes you twitch, and you wonder how you’re going to get up without looking like a hobbling mess. Maybe you’ll just crawl.

Soup and some electrolyte drinks are set out on the counter- along with your favorite candy. For a moment, your brows furrow, and then your lip wobbles in realization.

“Did you get that for me?”

“Can’t fuck you if you’re all pitiful and disgusting.” Is all he says, but his lip twitches into a bewitching smirk as your eyes well with tears and you sniffle out a sweet thank you. "Of course you’d cry over stupid shit like this." He adds, shaking his head. 

His shoes click bluntly against the floor, and he peers down at you with that devastatingly handsome, horribly mean face.

“You could just go fuck another girl.” You murmur sappily, lip jutting into a pout. And it’s true, you know it. The two of you have established that. He throws it in your face, too, when you tell him you’re busy or you’re too sleepy. Or when you simply don’t want to deal with his attitude.

His laugh tickles your heart, staring at him with wide, watery eyes as he bends down and gathers you into his arms. You squirm, or try to, holding any pride and ego close to your chest like a rabid animal as you let out a faux uncomfortable noise. There’s a familiar tap to your ass that urges you to stop, and you sink into Sukuna’s terrifyingly comfortable embrace as he carries you back to your room. The two of you have hardly cuddled before, the absolute most being him begrudgingly letting you cling onto him after one particularly rough night- only to shove you off five minutes later, giving you a pat on the head as if to say good job, thanks for the head, before leaving.

So this is new, awkward, when your semi friend with semi benefits sets you down with the upmost genteel fashion and retreats back into the kitchen. He comes back with an armful of products moments later. Soup, your favorite cup filled with mystery get well liquid, a straw and a big spoon.

“I don’t like big spoons.”

“That’s too fuckin’ bad because that’s what I got- stop pouting like that, it's disgusting.”

Sukuna sets everything down and defiantly does not grab another spoon for you. You make a noise in the back of your throat when he reaches over and urges you to sit up with a silent look that you’re expected to figure out. He lets you maneuver a pillow behind your back, lets you curl a blanket around your body and change the TV back to Vampire Diaries- he does not let you feed yourself.

When you reach for the bowl of soup (your favorite- chicken and stars), he uses only a percentage of his strength to swat your hand away, giving you another demand to stop sulking like a little kid before he’s crawling (crawling!) across the bed. Bowl of soup and too big of spoon in hand, he sits across from and in front of your view from the show.

He leans forward in a sort of endearing way, brows furrowed in a certain concentration as he scoops the perfect spoonful of soup and stars, holding it to your mouth. And he watches when you open your mouth with furrowed brows, lips closing around the dipped metal so that nothing drips down your chin. The broth warms your mouth, your stomach in an instant, making your face relax and your back slump into the pillow that supports you.

There’s a prickle of humiliation on the apples of your cheeks, something Sukuna would likely make fun of if you weren’t half asleep by the time he finishes spoon feeding you. And yea, there was one singular instance of him swiping away fallen liquid away with his thumb. And yea, you’re going to remember that forever. And most definitely are you going to internalize this as something more between the two of you than just friends who fuck (friend being a huge overstatement).

“I don’t like you.” You find yourself murmuring as Sukuna thrusts your clunky, metal, pink water bottle in your face. Obediently, as you always are, you sip at the liquid, swallowing down any grimace as he stares right at you while you swallow.

“You’re not my favorite, either.” He grunts, picking the cup up as soon as you set it down and representing it to you with a face.

“I’m at least second to your video game console.” Your grumble with pursed lips, taking another measly sip. When Sukuna raises his brows, you take a few more.

“Third. Second is pot. And it’s a PS4- fucking nerd.”

The part of your stomach that isn’t cramping to shit flutters, your fever probably rises, and you smile to yourself as you take a big gulp of the electrolyte solution. You swallow before he says the softest atta girl and takes the cup to set it back down.

Sukuna helps you shuffle under three big blankets, gives you your phone and goes to wash the soup bowl. You text Satoru with sick enthusiasm, to which he reiterates it in your (other) group chat where everyone just starts sending silly fangirlish memes. Shoko isn’t phased, Suguru isn’t pleased, either. But there’s an icky smile on your face, the thought of when it’ll end and Sukuna will go back to, well, Sukuna, gnawing at the back of your throat.

But you’ll pretend for today, like you do everyday.

“Are you leaving?” You ask when he comes back into the room, question answered when the bed dips once more.

He grunts a no, to shut up and sleep as he synchs up another sports game. You don’t mind, turning your head so you’re facing him. His back rests against a pillow with a floral case, one of your weighted stuffed animals squished between the weight of his back and the metal bed frame.

You stare with lidded eyes and hot cheeks, tracing the musculature of his shoulders and the sharpness of his face in the same pattern you do after he’s done making you quiver and shake and cry. The plush of the blanket is a perfect excuse for the sheen of sweat on your face, your stomach still molten lava and convulsing.

But it’s just a little more than a dull ache with Sukuna here, bored face and all.

For a moment, before you fall asleep for a third time today, you feel his fingertips, hard and gruff and soft, brush against your cheek, your chapped lips. You’re too tired to hide or quip at him in the static-like fashion that makes him laugh.

You swear you see his lips twitch when you hum affectionately. There’s a text waiting for your friends, a mental scoreboard to update. Smile number two. Four days apart. From holding a sparkler and ogling at it like a child at Satoru’s New Year’s Eve party to laying in bed sick, purring like a cat as he pets you.

“Stop looking like you’re going to die.” He all but requests, covering your face with a sliver of the blanket and looking back at the game. Grabbing the remote, he turns the volume up a few more notches to ignore your itty bitty, very sleepy laugh.

Seconds away from sleep, Sukuna uncovers it- you. His lingering gaze tingles your nose, all the way down to the tips of your toes. Your infatuation with him might as well be the cure to cancer from the faintest spark of energy it gave you.

He’s not there when you wake up. It could have been a fever dream for all you know if it wasn’t for the refilled hydro flask and oddly neat note scribbled for you to ‘drink the fuck up’ on one of your Sanrio sticky notes. There's a brief look of horror on your face knowing that he looked through your drawers to find one. 

You drink it all and take a gruesome looking picture, sending it to him with a silly caption- your way of saying thank you. Sukuna doesn’t respond, but the read receipts are on. And he doesn’t talk to you for awhile, as if he curates the perfect way to make you stay by letting the bubbling like for him simmer into nothing, only for it to come back in full force when asks if you’re awake three Thursdays later.He asks if he can still use the key you gave him to come by after the gym to shower because his little brother and friends are over and he doesn’t want to hear them blubber while they figure out their alcohol tolerance (or lack thereof).

A pearly, well built increment of yourself hopes it’s so he’ll check up on you, too, after he slinks into your room and fucks you just the way he likes- because he knows you like it, too.

And you say yes, like you always do. Tell him about this new body wash you got that he can use, that you just so happened to get his favorite drink from the store he get his protein powder and supplements from when you went grocery shopping.

you don’t even like that store lmfao

found a new prebiotic there! Saw it on Pintrest

sure

Sukuna is not immune to exploiting your obvious cartwheels to please him. He’ll never say thank you, and you won’t ever ask him to. You do it for all your friends, you tell him. Shoko’s toothbrush brand is in your bathroom cabinet when she sleeps over. Satoru’s moisturizer and favorite tooth-rotting snacks. Suguru’s blanket because he gets cold at movie nights. But Sukuna knows he could have whatever he asked for within the hour.

He’ll never address that he took care of you when you were sick. Both times. Or that there's a packet of your favorite gum in the console of his car. And he'd rather be dead than you, shit, anyone, find out that there's a hidden album of little you's in his phone. 

i’m just a good friend  *ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆

we’re not friends.

It doesn’t hurt your feelings. Because you know he’s emotionally constipated, that no one’s ever really cared. Except Yuji, but little brothers always care. That whatever affection and consideration thrown his way will be burnt to a crisp, that he’ll only ever look at you like you hung the stars when no one’s looking, or only think about you at night when the weed isn’t helping him sleep. 

uh huh, we sure aren’t. see you later! make sure to stretch before you lift!!

stop texting me, it's fucking up my music

₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

?

[qvrcll]

I have a prompt for you, if it makes u feel inspired! Reader is human, grew up with the sully boys (like Spider) but as her life was in danger, she transfers to her own avatar. The boys (+ Kiri if you'd like!) help her adapt? With lots of physical touch stuff and pining maybe- its all up to you! Thank you!!!

𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 — (SULLY BOYS + KIRI) ʚ ɞ

✰༉ — (avatar : twow) -> drabble !

-> cw. ࿐ gn + non sully + human -> navi reader

-> auth notes. ࿐ omg tysm for this req , i really enjoyed writing this idea — i hope u enjoy ! ^^

-> characters. ࿐ neteyam , lo’ak + kiri sully (♡⃕)

-> warnings. ࿐ tiny bit of angst , might contain spoilers ! injury warning

✧    ﹒     ♡       ⁺      ៹    ﹒       ♡    ﹒       ✧      ₊ ✧    ﹒     ♡       ⁺

NETEYAM . ༉‧₊˚

` don’t be afraid, i am right behind you ` .

ଘ human form — he is agile, it is no secret. navi bodies are sinewy and cut from a general, visual audit. but neteyam is kind and slow when it comes to you — he will often curb his pace when you assay or strain your body too much. as an after-stroke, you share bodily sagacities of your own capabilities or struggles ( i.e. your inability to breathe pandora air — as a requital for the info you share, he will aid you in finding masks to breathe suitably + check in on you ) he is unconditional in his love and sacrifice for you, despite the visible difference in aspect, he makes up for it with connection and patience. upholds a lot of interest in human strength + bodily capabilities, so expect a lot of physical touch if you allow him it. he would try to shield you from harm’s way from a lot of things, take the blame for countless misgivings. i also see him as a massive sucker for your hands / feet; he’d find it adorable how soft and small they were compared to his. however, he isn’t a machine — his frustrations will come belting after a tough day, ties of “it’s hard slowing down always, okay!” and when you visibly pull away in hurt and confusion, he will seek you out and apologise. apologise first and foremost. then, if you give way, he will draw you close and exude his frustrations with his family. and when you giggle, let him know that you trust him. grab his hand. rub his knuckles till they’re warm and oozing with an amity unmatched. expect tears, love and a bond re-strengthened, twisted and woven into new.

` your tail , it’s longer . hey , you’re still smaller ! ` .

ଘ navi form — i reckon it’s due to battle wounds / misgivings that you would have to ultimately switch to navi — he’d find you in a heap between shrubs and vegetation, huddled and breathing all too loud. when the transference process occurs, this kid is all tears and fear — he is at your side at any give able moment. it is initially hard for him to deliberate on the change; as eywa twines around the small of your naked back, embosoms your body and counts you for new, he sees life being surged into a newer body. similar to his mother in the first film, he will bid farewell to your old body and render the patch of skin with love and devotion, an orison from eywa. then, after the overhaul, your similarity in nature is easily similar — your height had doubled and your hips had snapped to within a couple of inches. whilst his siblings are less altruistic with their giggles and amusement when you trip over wet, soft shrubs or aren’t accustomed with your legs, he will stunt his speed and carry you with both his hands. just as you had once been patient in fashioning a bond with the sully boy, he will shirk hours upon hours teaching you efficacious routes, how to stretch your legs past the horizon. he would be very verbal + compassionate, a constant string of “come on, let’s do it again.” due to your inexperience with your navi body , he’d be hesitant to amass the same physical touch as he did before , but when you tell him you miss him, best believe his heart is swelling and he won’t keep off you. definitely praises you when you overcome a particularly hard challenge or recuperate from an emotional defeat — ready to jump from the heights of the mountains when you do.

LO’AK ౨ৎ ࣪ . ⊹ :

` you’re short . cute . come , follow me ` .

ଘ human form — heavily influenced by his carnal interests in humans, in you — he isn’t foreign to the aspect of your body, when he is already close to spider. he understands their basic strokes and interests and motivations. how your heart beat is amassed. how your feet and hands are smaller. he’s a grabber for sure, constantly feeling your pinkies or thumbs, stroking the back of your palms, having you raw and flustered for him. on a certain occasion, he had grabbed you effortlessly and swung you onto his lean shoulders, giggling the entire time you are punting his back. he would also be very open to bring you to every inch’s worth of pandora if he was able to — for now, the forest was his heart’s domain ( he makes sure your escapades are safe and secret ). i reckon he’d love your eyes — they’re smaller and glassy, like two globes. he wasn’t always this artless — in the mere happening’s of your relationship, he was rather quiet and kept to himself. it was a certain turning point that depicted that pleasant change; helping him with chores or painlessly kicking him out of harm’s way. he’d be surprised, with your stature already lacking a far way off his, yet your heart was strong. mighty. and half of his already.

` you’re beautiful … but still cute . and smaller ` .

ଘ navi form — i would see him as less than capable of keeping still in battle — he’ll want to be here and there and do this and that, that he’d ultimately blur the line between it and your inability to perform certain things. i reckon it’d be something small, like a slip, or miscalculation in a certain route, and your mask cracks beyond relief or you twist your ankle and are barely conscious as you grit your teeth. i’d see him scooping you up and booking it for the lab — there is a redundant existence of a few avatars and he’s sweat and bones and a little boy holding all your weight, towering above your wheezing body as he plugs you in and withstands his father’s words. the only thing on his mind would be the smell of your blood and struggles, how “it’s my fault… mine…” — after the process, he’d be more than happy to support your quavery limbs and blurry vision. in the future, i’d definitely see him as a trial and error sort of individual + a lot of silent affirmation, presence to keep you grounded. loves, loves, loveeees your ears + tail, he thinks they’re true insight into your deepest wishes and the slightest twitches have him smirking. this cheeky boy would definitely do the most to keep his hand on yours at most times, heart rate hurdling. but he’d spend a life time protecting your honour and life, still that boy eagerly palming half of your heart.

KIRI ・⸝ . 𖥔

` what is a pinkie ? come , sit. tell me ` .

ଘ human form — absolutely enamoured by you. after befriending spider, she is intrigued by humans, having had a human mother. i reckon she’s incredibly inquisitive with your true nature. she doesn’t strike me as an individual to constantly remind you of the difference between you and her; the obvious dissimilarity between the two of you is squashed immediately when you pose your deepest respects for eywa and her countless creations. her verdure. her strength. her heartbeat, mighty. she finds no hesitation confiding in you of her origins or her ‘weirdness.’ she does tend to close off from you in select portions of emotions, when she too overwhelmed. but when she sees you, set apart from the countless, tall beings around you, digging your toes in the sand and painstakingly trying to blend into the noiseless background, she’ll join you. she’ll guide your hand to the heightening marshes or breathing strands of grass. her favourite part of you is definitely your personality + ability to adapt.

` your heartbeat is strong , still , like her ` .

ଘ navi form — i assume since she’s almost always subsumed in lo’ak’s escapades into the deepest inches of the forest, you would take a tumble or wander too far from her eye, whilst she’s synchronous with the life around her. it takes her several minutes to gather herself and place her tremulous hands onto your chest, feeling your heartbeat lodged deep within your bones and flesh — she knows you have more to give. your body is a vessel of energy, where is it borrowed and exchanged for when it is appropriate. so i reckon she wouldn’t find it strange at all when you transfer over to navi. she would definitely need to get used to the similarity in height + appearance, but she would be excited to show you the countless other things connected to eywa + pandora. definitely not as much of a toucher as her brothers but loves holding your hand + braiding your hair into protective styles. jealous when lo’ak or neteyam try to buy your time -> would never say it out loud but her body language is clear and booming. spends entire days teaching you + hugging you tightly when things go off radar, silent and understanding because the feeling of you always chases her.

© 2022 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.