#plus i'm not distracted by... a boy... this year

[shoehorseconstant]

my differential equations prof is so cute in a lanky british grandpa way T_T he has so many silly jokes to tell and he meanders so much while answering question....i had to go on a walk with him while he answered two of my questions and he didn't conclude his answer until we reached his destination

[bottomoftheriverbed]

Tagged by @theshakespearetrash

9 films I watched in 2024 (although I watched barely any films so I've expanded to include a couple days either side)

Tagging @starstruckpurpledragon @lanehutsons @steeple-sinderby-belles

[renskaji]

baby fever!

multi-char. x implied fem!reader, wc: 4.3k (total), req? no.

starring! sakura, kaji, umemiya, togame, hiragi, suo

mentions of pregnancy/being pregnant

h. sakura

You can see it in his face, how he's freaking out without trying to move a single muscle. You've known your husband for far too long to miss the panic shining in his eyes, the panic you've been watching steadily grow over the past nine months of your pregnancy.

But now he's holding your son, and it's so very clear that he's totally overwhelmed.

You had naively thought, while distracted by the difficulty of pregnancy and labor, that Haruka had come to terms with the fact that he was going to be—and now was—a father.

Your baby is here, a healthy boy with two beautifully different colored eyes, and you've only been home from the hospital for a few short hours. You had meant to sneak off and take a bath, but then you saw the nervousness lace your husband's lean frame and knew you needed to settle your big baby, first.

"Haru," You coo, kneeling on the couch cushion beside your husband. Your son is sleeping on his chest, Haruka's large hands holding him in the exact perfect way you were taught in those parenting classes Nirei had suggested you take together. "How's it going?"

"Dunno," He answers quickly, but you hear the breathlessness in his quiet voice, desperate not to wake your perfect son. He doesn't even bother looking at you, amber and coal eyes trained on the crown of your newborn's head. "He fell asleep."

"He's a baby. He'll do that." You tease, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your husband's head while the other brushes gently over your son's back. You see Haruka's ears burn red, still not used to your affection, even after so long married, but for once, you bite your tongue.

"I don't..." Your husband starts then pauses, jaw clenching tight in the way he always does while struggling to piece together what he wants to say. He's gotten better at talking through his feelings over the years, but big milestones always make him revert back to the way he was in high school. You know to wait for him, your fingers brushing mindlessly through his two-toned hair while admiring your son. "I don't know what I'm doing."

His words make you snort a laugh, and he looks away from his son just long enough to glare at you.

"Sorry, honey," You mumble, proving you're truly sorry by placating him with a sickeningly sweet kiss to his lips. "But you think I know what I'm doing?"

"That's not what I meant," He huffs. His usual dramatics are toned down, and you credit it to his awareness of his sleeping son on his chest. Your baby has been an easy sleeper so far, but you know it's subject to change.

"I know," You confess, leaning closer into your husband's side, cheek pressed against his shoulder so you can swoon over your son. He really is a perfect mix of your husband and yourself. It makes your lips twitch with a smile unknowingly.

"How am I supposed to be a good dad, when I had such an awful role model for mine?" He's asked this question before, shortly after you announced your pregnancy to him. He had been wracked with panic, then, but you had spent hours chasing those thoughts away. The arrival of your son must have stirred up old feelings.

"I think that the fact that you're even worried about that proves that you're already better than your father." You hum, letting your words sink in. You mean them, too. "Plus, I wouldn't have married you if I thought you were anything less than absolutely perfect for me."

“Shaddup,” He huffs, but his blush has spread to his cheeks. From your spot against his shoulder, you lean up and forward to press another kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“Mmm.” You settle against his shoulder once more, your adoring gaze settled on your sweetest baby. You’re certain that you could spend the rest of your life exactly where you’re sitting—on your couch, against your husband’s side, your son asleep on Haruka’s chest.

You reach out a hand and brush your son’s tiny closed fist, resting against the soft fabric of your husband’s shirt. He’s so tiny, and so, so loved. And you know he’ll grow up knowing it, if Haruka always holds him as tenderly as was at that moment.

“Just give him everything you wished your father had given you,” You murmur, feeling your eyelids start to droop. So much for getting the chance to shower while your son slept. “And if you mess up, I’ll be there to set you straight.”

You mean it as a joke, but you’re so sleepy the words drift out of you on a whisper. Haruka breathes a little heavier, something indicative of a laugh while his mind is a million miles away yet grounded to the moment.

“Yeah,” He hums, voice a deep vibration your son surely feels in his sleep. “I can do that.”

You drift to sleep with a smile on your face, your son nearby, and your husband feeling lighter.

r. kaji

You should’ve known you were in trouble when your husband and daughter were being quiet.

It’s not like they’re overly rambunctious or anything, at least, not for a toddler. But you don’t recall hearing even a peep from the two of them in the past ten minutes while you cooked dinner for your small family, and that never happens.

Suspicious, you turn down the heat and venture out of the kitchen. You saw them last in the living room, Ren roped into watching your daughter’s favorite shows. Except, they’re not there, and your confusion mixes with worry about what they could be getting into.

Yes, you trust your husband endlessly, but your daughter has him wrapped around her finger—just like you do.

You make your way further into the house. The door to your bedroom is shut, but your daughter's room is cracked just wide enough for you to finally hear the telltale whispers of your husband and child clearly getting up to something.

"Where did everyone go—?" You ask as you push open the door and step inside, though you pause the moment you find two so similar faces staring up at you with wide, we're getting in trouble, eyes. What's worse is the twin lollipop sticks hanging from their mouths—contraband. "Ren Kaji, I know you're not giving my baby candy while I'm cooking dinner."

Your husband, sitting on the floor with your toddler, looks so guilty you don't even need the bag of evidence—the bag of lollipops usually hidden atop the fridge—to know he's played right into your daughter's tricks.

And your sweet baby girl, your cunning three year old, turns to face you with a big grin on her face and one chubby cheek puffed out with a lollipop stored inside it. You try to frown at her, really, but it's so hard to get mad at her when she's nearly a carbon copy of her father.

"Mama!" She calls, voice muffled by the candy in her mouth. She's standing between Ren's spread legs, but one toddler-sized fist is pointing accusingly at her father. "Papa gave me this. I not in trouble!"

"Way to sell me out," Ren huffs, crossing his arms. Your daughter pulls the lollipop from her mouth and holds the treat in one hand. You have to use your own palm to smother the adoring smile overtaking your features as you watch the scene unfold, especially when your daughter leans forward to smack a sticky kiss to her father's cheek.

"It's okay, Papa." She assures him, voice serious and bright, like she wasn't playing her father right in front of you. Honestly, you admire her skill at getting Ren to do what she wanted. "I still love you, 'kay?"

And Ren nods dutifully, falling hopelessly for his daughter's tricks. You're not even certain he realizes that he just took the blame for the act they undoubtedly conspired in.

"You both know we don't eat candy before dinner," You remind them sternly, though your pointed mom-is-pissed look is mainly trained on your husband. You're grateful that they both look down at the floor in shame, because it gives you a chance to grin at how cute they both are before clearing your throat to get their attention.

Their attention snaps to you, and suddenly you're reminded that you're just as powerless to Ren's and your daughter's wide puppy-dog eyes.

"Dinner's almost ready. Wanna help me finish cooking while Papa sets the table?" Your question is met with a cheer as your daughter races towards you, getting scooped up easily into your arms. With a smile, you press a series of kisses to her chipmunk cheek, which has her squealing with laughter in seconds.

The sound is like heaven to your ears, and you know you can never be truly mad at Ren for caving to your sweet daughter's demands for an extra lollipop when you're just as likely to bend the rules of the world to give her what she wants.

Ren appears at your side, one hand settling low on your back while he presses a kiss of his own to your temple, despite the lollipop stick hanging from his mouth. You tug it out carefully, angling your chin up for a proper kiss that he readily gives you.

"Thanks for not being mad," He murmurs against your lips, words a quiet hum despite the way your daughter rambles on about something she had done at daycare that day.

"You're dealing with her sugar rush later," You fire back, winking as his face pulls into an expression of pained realization at what he had done. Popping his lollipop into your own mouth, you grin around the candy and turn to leave your daughter's room with her on your hip and Ren's heavy sigh.

And a chastise from your daughter, too.

"Mama, no candy!"

h. umemiya

There was never a doubt in your mind that Hajime would make a brilliant father. Always so doting, so attentive. He practically oozed fatherhood long before you married him.

So when you found out you were pregnant with twins, you knew you'd be perfectly fine.

Not that you thought it would be easy, oh no. You knew the hardships of becoming first time parents, and now you had double the tasks to do with two babies, but you had Hajime by your side.

And you were right.

The twins, one boy and one girl, are only three months shy of being a year old, and everyday has felt like a dream. They each have developed their own personalities, but one thing's for certain—they love their papa.

You're doing laundry. It's a mundane task, but with two babies, there's always a pile of something that needs to be washed. Hajime has the twins, so you're able to knock through a few loads without interruption. It's only when you take a load of sheets outside to hang that you realize just where your husband has been entertaining your children for so long.

"And this one's a tomato plant!" Hajime declares proudly, pointing to the aforementioned vegetable not quite yet producing. The twins are in their carrier, both strapped to his chest and facing outward as he shows off his garden for the umpteenth time to your drooling babies. "You both liked tomatoes last time we tried them."

You're stuck standing by the laundry wire, arms wrapped loosely around yourself. There's something so unbelievably heartwarming about seeing your husband talk to your children without him knowing you're there.

"And, oh, that's sweet peas! You like those," Hajime presses a kiss to the crown of your daughter's head to reference her while he stands tall with his hands on his hips. He repeats the action with your son, a chuckle shaking his shoulders as he does so. "But you just threw your peas in my face. Your mama thought that it was really funny."

You grin at the memory. Of how your son wasted no time in lobbing his food at his father the moment he got control of the spoon, how despite the sweet pea puree sliding down his face, Hajime didn't once stop smiling.

"When you're both old enough, you'll have your own garden plots to grow whatever you want!" Hajime declares, to which your daughter babbles excitedly, matching her papa's energy. Your son turns his head to chew on the strap of the carrier, and the action brings you into his line of sight. He coos instantly, chubby baby arms stretching out for you to hold him.

The movement catches Hajime's attention, and he turns to face you. Just like his son, your husband brightens when he realizes you're nearby, one arm extending to beckon you closer. And really, you'd be a fool if you ever denied Hajime anything, so you abandon the laundry to find your way to your husband's side, overlooking his garden plots.

"There's Mama," He wraps an arm around shoulders as soon as you're in reach, crushing you into his side, careful of your son's legs. You twist in his hold so that you can press kisses to the chubby cheeks of your twins, then to your husband's lips. "We were admiring the garden. I can't wait until they can help me with it."

"They're going to be veggie experts before they enter preschool." You joke, poking Hajime's side teasingly. Adoration shines so brightly in his eyes, you're once more reminded why you made the perfect choice in marrying him.

"I think we're going to add some cucumber seedlings before the season for them passes. The twins love them." He sways side to side as he speaks, large hands splaying on the bellies of both your children through the carrier. You smile at him, swaying along with him. Your son has a tight grip on one of your hands while your daughter expertly gnaws on the fingers of your other, anchoring you in place.

Not that you had any intention of running off anytime soon.

"That sounds perfect, Haji."

j. togame

"Papa, what about that one!"

Your son's excited shouts carry over the crowd of the festival. You smile up at him, sitting on your husband's shoulders and excitedly pointing at the fifth food stall you've passed so far.

"Oh, yeah. That one too." Jo assures your son, squeezing his legs in his large hands that are holding him still and safe over his shoulders. Your four year old giggles in excitement, pudgy palms pushing against Jo's cheeks from his vantage point.

"I met your Papa at a festival, you know." You call out to your son, smiling brightly up at the miniature carbon-copy of your husband. "He was working at a food stand, then."

"Woah..." Your son gasps, drawing a deep chuckle out of your husband. You slip your hand in the folded crook of Jo's elbow, keeping yourself close to him while you walk.

Jo had told your son about all the food stalls he had helped out at over the years, which led to your son asking if he had worked at every stand you passed.

Jo told him yeah, but you're starting to question the legitimacy of his assurances. There's a very real chance that he's just saying so that he can keep hearing your son's excited laughter at each stall.

"That's why your mama fell in love with me," Jo smiles, though it's a little wonky with the way your son squeezes his cheeks. "One bite of my fried noodles and she was begging to marry me."

"Oh please," You huff, laughing. Your free hand smoothes over the swell of your baby bump, six months pregnant with another boy. "You were the one begging for a date."

"Worked out pretty well for me, didn't it?" Jo's grin is charming and wide, his lazy grin sliding over to you with a warmth that matches the burning in your chest.

"I wanna work at a food stall!" Your son exclaims, bouncing with energy is certainly did not get from Jo. You laugh at his eagerness, turning your chin to press a soft kiss to your husband's bicep.

"I'll ask around," Jo nods, not even wincing when your son pulls a little too tightly on his hair in his excitement. He's twisting around on your husband's shoulders, like he's already looking for someone Jo can ask to let him help. It reminds you of Choji, and you make a mental note to invite him over to dinner so he can run out your son's endless energy.

"But for now, why don't you think of something you want to eat?" You pinch your son's leg, enjoying the shriek of laughter he lets out. Jo holds him tighter, a secure anchor keeping your son safe atop his shoulders.

"Hmm..." He hums in contemplation, considering the very important decision of what to eat. Something very important for his four-year old self, evidently. "What does baby brother want to eat, Mama?"

"I don't think you want what baby brother's been craving." Jo warns your son in a comment meant to tease you. In retaliation, you nudge him with your elbow but you can't argue. Your second pregnancy cravings are far stranger than your first had been.

"Baby brother wants some sweet bread." You counter with a snack you see at a food stall nearby. Jo sees what you're talking about and carefully redirects your route, sending you a subtlety pointed look when you attempt to remove your hand from his arm. With the crowd picking up the longer the festival carries on, Jo doesn't want you far from his side.

It's his own brand of silent, easy protectiveness that makes you wish you could marry him all over again.

You just might have to ask if he'll let you—after you give him his second son.

t. hiragi

Oh, your husband is screwed.

He's late for dinner, and your two year old daughter is going to give him hell for it. You really aren't sure if you should feel sorry for him, considering she gets her demand for punctuality from him.

But it might be your fault your daughter is even aware your husband is late coming home from work. It's not like she's able to tell time, but you had made an offhand comment, something mumbled more to yourself than for anyone else's ears.

"Papa should've been home already,"

Your daughter overheard, her little ears picking up on any mention of her beloved Papa. But the excitement she felt about hearing her papa's name was quickly overtaken by anger at the fact that he wasn't home to play dress up with her, like usual.

"Mama, what time?" Your tiny drill sergeant of a daughter demands while standing in front of the door, little arms crossed over her chest. She's pouting, and you know she's pissed because her little foot is tapping impatiently.

You tell her the time because there's no way you're going to end up on her bad side, too. Toma is out of luck, but it's every man for himself when your daughter's wrath is at hand.

Finally, you hear the tell-tale jingle of Toma's keys in the lock. You'd be lying if you said you weren't the tiniest big eager to see the showdown between your husband and your mini-me. Because as Toma likes to say, he was blessed with a daughter that's too similar to you.

"Hey, sweethearts. I'm home—" Toma calls out to the two of you, but he freezes in his tracks when he sees the lethal glare his daughter is giving him. You're struggling to smother your grin at the sight. "Uh-oh. What's happening?"

"You're late, Papa!" She huffs. In a dramatic flurry of movement, she crosses her arms tighter over herself and turns her back on the man she's been waiting the past ten minutes for.

"Mama sold me out, huh?" Toma sighs, defeated. You feel the slightest twinge of guilt when you see the hurt on his face at getting the cold shoulder from your daughter, but then you remember how he left you to handle bath time alone the night before, and you feel a little vindicated. "Well, baby, I only stopped to get dinner like Mama asked. That's why I was late."

He holds up the bag with the takeout you'd requested in it, trying to get your toddler to see sense. You're not sure if it's working, but she does turn back around to face him at the mention of food.

"I don't like when you're late," She says in her tiny voice, and it's like shots to the heart for you—so you can't even imagine what it's doing to Toma.

At this point it's just cruel. You know you need to intervene.

"You know what? I completely forgot I asked Papa to stop and get dinner for us." You say, crossing the short distance to where your husband is still standing by the door and desperately trying to win your daughter's favor. You trade him a kiss for the takeout bag, and things seem almost normal when your daughter steps forward to hug Toma's leg. She's still pouting, though, so you make a show of looking in the bag and gasping dramatically. "Papa got your favorite, too! Isn't that so nice of him, baby?"

"You 'membered my favorite?" Your daughter asks with wide eyes, and your husband wastes no time in scooping her up off her feet. He presses a kiss to her cheek, big and dramatic the way she likes it, and he's rewarded with the sound of her laughter ringing through your small home.

"Of course I did." He assures her with a smile. You see the relief in his eyes that her attitude didn't last long, and you can't help but poke his side teasingly. "Now, why don't we go eat?"

"Yes, Papa!"

h. suo

Your home is concerningly quiet when you come home from work.

With three kids and a husband, it's a miracle that the place isn't torn up. But Hayato does a good job at keeping the kids entertained and in line, so when you come home to an empty living room, you wonder if he took them to the nearby park.

But when you wander into the kitchen to try and figure out a plan for dinner, you see the teapot on the counter, along with an open and ransacked box of cookies, and you know exactly where your missing family members are located.

You grin and make your way down the hallway to your eldest's room. Just like you expected, the door is cracked and your three year old daughter is hosting a tea party. But instead of having her stuffed animals seated in the small chairs around the table, she has her two younger brothers and father playing along.

You lean silently against the door frame, grateful that Hayato's back is to you so you can observe without his teasing comments. Your smile overtakes your face as your daughter gives orders to her brothers—one just two months shy being two and the other only four months and in a bouncer.

Your middle son clumsily holds his—thankfully empty—teacup, cookie crumbs over his face. He's clinging onto his favorite blanket, and you make a mental note to sneak it away and wash it while he's napping next.

Your youngest hasn't grasped the concept of pretend play yet. He's making a valiant effort to eat the plastic tea cup his sister set in front of him.

"The tea is quite good today, dear." Hayato sips his empty cup, his long frame folded into the tiny chair set up at the table. Your daughter giggles at the dramatic voice he uses when he talks, and you can only imagine the proud grin he wears at making her laugh.

Though, your secret admiring is short lived when your middle son spots you, his baby voice babbling out something only you and Hayato recognize as 'Mama!' that you hope he never stops calling you.

"Ah, there she is." Hayato hums sweetly as he twists in his chair to face you front his seat. You step fully into the room, found out, and have every intention of greeting him with a kiss like usual, but then he opens his mouth with a smug comment you should've expected. "We're in dire need of waitstaff. Can you refill my tea for me?"

You stop just short of kissing him. You flick his forehead instead, his laughter ringing throughout the room. Your kids see the smiles on both your faces and laugh along; your youngest blows a raspberry and spit dribbles down his chin.

"Mama isn't the waiter!" Your daughter protests, jumping up to set another placemat for you. "Sit next to me!"

"Someone likes me," You grin, poking your tongue out at your husband. He smiles back, like usual, and doesn't miss a beat when he hands your middle child another cookie he's no doubt babbling for.

"Yeah, Papa." Your daughter carefully pours you fake tea. She takes her time, concentrating, wanting to get it exactly right. Just like her father taught her. "Don't be mean to Mama."

"But that's what makes Mama fall in love with me," Your husband smoothly reasons. You roll your eyes, but you can't deny it. His relentless teasing drew you to him. There's something to be said about a man that can make you laugh.

And Hayato is funny enough that you gave him three kids.

"Now," You lift your plastic teacup and tap it gently against your daughter's before taking a 'sip'. You even make a point to hum contentedly, like it was the best tea you've never tasted. "What were we talking about?"

"Papa said he's gonna teach me to fight!"

[a/n: I loved writing this so much. lmk if you want more because I would be SO down.]

[vin-taege]

muse (m)

summary: Erik is having trouble sketching a design for a pin-up tattoo. No matter how many references he looked through, he just couldn't get the pose right. Luckily, his girlfriend is there to be his real-life model.

genre: fluff, smut

pairing: erik campbell x reader

CW: p in v, unprotected sex (stay safe irl!), spitting, choking, spanking, light degradation, light dumbification, pure filth, lowkey biting kink, erik is a bit of a sadist, aftercare!

words: ~4.4k

"I'm going to get carpal tunnel." Erik shook his wrist, the motion unable to contain the pain from his pinched veins. The house was empty, save for him and Bobby. The rest of the family went out for a grocery run, while the two of them were restricted either by college or by work.

"That's not good," Bobby grimaced, barely glancing up from his chemistry textbook. "You won't be able to jack off properly."

The blunt end of a rubber eraser hit the younger boy square in the head. Rubbing the sore spot, he shot a displeased look towards his 'attacker,' only to be met by a shit-eating grin. 

"Oops, it slipped."

Still feeling his brother's pointed glance, Erik let out an exaggerated sigh. "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm just stressed because Mark won't get off my ass for this project."

"Aren't you guys allowed to use reference sites?"

"Yeah, but I'd rather not slowly burn my eyes out of their sockets. Also, I think I’ve gone through every picture Pinterest has. The frat boy who wants this tattoo keeps asking for updates every thirty minutes and he’s busting my balls."

To say this specific tattoo design was kicking his ass was an understatement. Drawing was both the easiest and the hardest part. Erik was skilled enough to go from neo-traditional to realistic at the drop of a hat, but the amount of work it took—plus his shit working posture he swore he’d fix—was out to knock a few years off his life. The more he drew poses again and again, the sloppier they looked. He groaned in frustration, balling up another piece of paper.

"Why don't you ask ___ to model for you then?" Bobby picked up a highlighter, aggressively running it across what Erik estimated to be an entire paragraph. He almost didn't hear what Erik hastily mumbled under his breath. "What was that?"

"I don’t want her to feel conscious, okay?" Erik huffed. "Plus, I’d get a bit… distracted from drawing, and the whole point is to draw."

Bobby screwed his face in disgust. He shook the mental picture of whatever his brother and you do underneath bed covers and went back to focus on studying for his finals. What he didn’t know was that his off-handed suggestion truly stuck with Erik.

Erik tucked his pencil and graphite stick back into their case, carefully wrapping the latter in tissue to prevent it from making a mess. Even though he had an iPad, he still preferred to draw traditionally—one of his quirks you loved. He was so particular about small details like texture and shading control, loved the feel of wood rather than smooth metal.

He looked back at his phone, scrolling through his mess of a gallery. A mixture of personal pictures, pose references, playlist screenshots, and shitpost gathered under the “all photos” tab—not that he bothered to ever sort them into proper albums. He aimlessly scrolled, not exactly sure what he was looking for. Finally, he was hit with serendipity.

It was a picture from two weeks ago. He had been working late as the shop closer and texted you that he’d spend an extra hour over time. You had whined at him over a brief call, rightfully so, since he had planned for that night to be a movie night.

“Erik, I got all pretty just for you,” he could almost see your pout through the phone.

“You’re always pretty, baby.”

“That’s not my point!”

“I know,” he sighed. “I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you when I get there, okay?”

After a few more bouts of apologies and a reluctant “I love you,” that’s when he got the picture. You were kneeling in front of the mirror, your free arm planted on the ground. It pressed against your chest, making your cleavage more pronounced. In between your thighs, behind your hand, he could faintly see the shimmer of lace panties—the ones he picked out for you after you made him listen to the Brat album. The only thing covering you up was his favorite leather jacket, the thick fabric embracing your frame while still showing your silhouette.

And damn, all the memories of that night hit him once more. How he fucked you in his jacket, how breathy your voice got, pitching up when you were deep in subspace, how much you begged him to fill you up. He could feel his dick twitch in his pants.

“I need to go. You’d be fine here by yourself, right?” Erik hastily chucked his things in a ratty. leather satchel. You had gotten it for him three birthdays ago, and at this point, the leather’s got a bit of chafing, while the straps were filled with a row of button pins. Erik refused to use anything else to carry his things.

“Uh, where are you going? Mom and Dad are gonna come back soon for dinner. They texted, like, just ten minutes ago.” Bobby shifted from his position on the couch, moving to toss his textbook aside and catch up to Erik, but he had already gotten his boots on.

“I’m taking your advice.” Erik paused at the doorway, making eye contact with a confused Bobby. In a second, everything clicked for the younger sibling. He cringed, gritting his teeth together.

“Tell her I said hi, at least,” Bobby awkwardly waved at Erik, watching as he trudged off like a man on a mission.

────୨ৎ────

“Bobby says ‘hi,’” was the first thing Erik told you when you opened the door. You chuckled, both in confusion and surprise. Just this morning, Erik had texted you that he’d be preoccupied all day just trying to make a draft for that one client; some frat boy in an on-again-off-again relationship who wanted his girl as a pin-up on his thigh. Which is why you didn’t expect to see him at your door this evening.

He licked his lips at the sight of you. One of his old band tees hung around your frame, barely covering the top of your thighs. Black shorts peeked beneath the soft fabric. You moved to hug him, squeezing his body against yours.

“Kiki! I thought you forgot about me.”

You laughed as he rolled his eyes, the curve of a smile ghosting his lips. With one arm wrapped around you, he brought a hand to cup your face, leaning in to kiss you deeply. You could taste the faint menthol from the hard candies he substituted for cigarettes. He was trying to quit after promising you he’d take care of himself more.

He shifted to grip your jaw firmer, using your small gasp as an opportunity to slip his tongue in. You moaned quietly, feeling his jeans rub against your thighs. Just as you felt yourself getting wet, he pulled away, teasingly grinning at you.

“How could I ever forget my girl?”

Your cheeks heated up at the pet name. Shaking your head, you stepped aside to let him in and closed the front door.

Erik basically lived part-time at your apartment. He knew where you kept your cups and plates, memorized what brand of detergent you used, and knew just the right way to twist your shower knob so that the water was the perfect temperature. He plopped on his usual spot on your couch, with you following close by. He patted his lap, an invitation for you to take your favorite seat.

“How’s the pin-up job going?” you asked once you settled down. His hands automatically landed on your thighs. You took his satchel, digging around before you procured his sketchbook.

“It’s shit, babe. I’ve been getting artist’s block since that guy left the shop.” He watched quietly as your eyes scanned over his failed sketches. He never wanted to admit it, but a small part of him still felt nervous whenever you looked at his drawings. Subconsciously, his thumb traced small circles onto your skin. “I actually came here to ask you for help with something.”

“Mhmm?” you hummed, only half-listening to him. No matter how many times you viewed his sketchbook, you were always awe-struck. Erik’s shop was mainly known for piercings, but on the rare days he’s given a task of a tattoo job, he always kills it with his artistry. Strong shape language, vivid colors, fluid composition—he was such a ridiculously good artist.

“Baby?” Erik chuckled, bringing a hand up so he could swipe your lips with his thumb. You scrunched your face up in surprise, bringing your full attention back to him. “I said I wanted to ask if you could help me with this drawing.”

You smiled sheepishly. “And what exactly do you want me to do? Is this one of your brilliant plans?”

“It’s not a heist this time, I promise,” he snorted. He fell silent for a moment, an uncharacteristic beat of seriousness washing over him. He took a deep breath. “You can always say no to this, and I swear I wouldn’t mind. I just really need a burst of inspiration right now and I keep fucking up the poses. And then I figured… I have a smoking hot girlfriend…”

He trailed off, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You cocked your on brow, laughing in disbelief. “And what, you want to paint your ‘smoking hot girlfriend’ like a French girl?”

He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. He hooked his chin over your shoulder, craning his neck to plant a soft kiss beneath your ear. “Only if she lets me.”

“Hmm…” you pretended to mull it over. “Only if you ask politely.”

“Please, will you, the queen of my heart, model for me?” He widened his eyes slightly, working his charm through his baby blues. You could feel his fingers brush higher on your thigh, his nails catching the hem of your shorts. 

“Fine, pretty boy.”

“That’s my fucking girl.” He bit your shoulder lightly, making you yelp in surprise. You twisted your torso, smacking him lightly on his chest as he laughed. You got off his lap, moving to the smaller plush chair next to the sofa.

“How do you want me?”

“I’d normally say hands and knees.” You shot him a glare, met only by an unabashed grin. “But right now, just sit pretty on the edge there. Bring one leg in front of the other and bend it like—yeah, that’s perfect. Now put your… right hand on the couch and extend it.”

You let him pose your arms, making small tweaks in your position. His touches were light, though lingering. Your skin burned each time the pads of his fingers came into contact with you. When he was satisfied, he took a few steps back, cocking his head a little to the side to take you in. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered under his breath.

You giggled, eyes darting to your oversized shirt, then back to him. “Do you want me to take this off?”

Without waiting for an answer, you peeled the fabric off smoothly before returning to your static position. You shivered a little as the cold air hit your bare breasts. Erik’s jaw hung open, his eyes darkening. He closed his mouth, swallowing thickly. Going back to his spot on the couch, he leaned back, opening his thighs wide. He set the sketchbook on top of the leg, planted on the couch.

“Don’t move, doll. Can you handle that for a few minutes?”

“What if I accidentally squirmed a little?” you batted your eyelashes innocently.

He snickered. “I’ll make sure you’ll regret it then. Wouldn’t want me to bend you over for a spanking now, do you?”

You pressed your lips in a thin line, clenching around nothing. Wetness stuck to the fabric of your panties. You wanted to rub your thighs, grind on the couch, but Erik’s watchful eyes froze you to the spot. His gaze would flicker between you and the paper, silence taking over the living room except for the music he’s set in the background. 

Just from the first song, you recognized the playlist: Erik’s Witching Hour. Also belovedly known as his sex playlist.

Humming to the tune, you tried to distract yourself. Erik’s gaze was heavy on you, piercing into your soul. It wasn’t self-consciousness per se—it was yearning. The room felt hot, despite your nipples hardening from the cool air. Your clit throbbed, demanding to be touched underneath your slick-ruined underwear. You could faintly hear Erik’s pencil scratch against the paper.

It was after whole minutes of silent concentration that you decided to play with him a little. Leaning your head backwards, you stared at the ceiling in faux boredom. “Wait so… you’re going to put a picture of me on another guy’s skin?”

“Bring your head back down, doll. And no, not exactly. I wouldn’t put you on that asshole. I just need a feel for the pose.”

You rolled your eyes, listening to his request. For now. For another moment, none of you spoke until you started swinging your legs back and forth. “Yeah… I was thinking of how this complete stranger was going to have my body on his for what—the rest of his life? Didn’t know you were into that.”

His expression hardened, jaw tensing. He called your name out quietly, an edge present in his voice. “Stop moving.”

You raked your gaze over him, stopping at the seam of his jeans. His sketchbook covered his crotch, but you could see his knuckles turning white from how hard he gripped it. You bit your lip, swaying lightly from side to side. “The idea of it is hot, no? Like, I’m branding someone almost.”

He said your name again, voice firmer this time. “I’m giving you three seconds to shut up, and if you don’t, I’m not going to be gentle with what I’m gonna do next.”

Your eyes lit up. You were really winding him up now. If there’s anything Erik loves, it's always a good chase. 

“One.”

You spread your legs slowly, angling your hips down to the chair.

“Two.”

Erik had already set his pencil on the table. He leaned forward, bringing both feet to the ground, eyes burning into yours. You could practically see the outline of his cock through his jeans now.

“Three?” you finished for him, rocking your hips slightly. Your thighs tensed as your clit finally met its sought-after friction. Without another word, Erik made his way to you with two big strides. You grinned at him as you felt a hand on your throat, fingers roughly pressing into the points of your jaw.

“Just can’t fucking help yourself, huh?” he whispered. He ran his thumb over your mouth, parting your lips. You suckled on his digit, twirling your tongue around him. He slipped his other hand underneath your shorts, tracing your slit through your panties. He groaned, feeling how soaked you were. “Have you been this wet since we started? Is that why you’re so fucking needy?”

You nodded, hips chasing after his touch when he brought his hand away. His thumb pressed down on your tongue, prying your jaw open. He leaned over, spitting into your mouth. He let your jaw go, watching with hunger as you immediately swallowed.

“I was just… curious about your work?” It came out more as a question. You bit your lip, trying to prevent the smile from spreading on your face. Erik narrowed his eyes at you.

Two firm hands gripped your waist, pulling you up and spinning you around. You felt pressure on the back of your knee, making it bend. Erik pressed a hand on your lower back, forcing an arch. You were kneeling on the sofa now, hands stabilizing yourself on the backrest. He grabbed the hem of your shorts, almost tearing the fabric as he yanked them down your thighs, alongside your panties. He took a moment to take in your wetness staining the black lace, before bringing his eyes to your dripping cunt.

“Are these the ones I got for you?” He ran a finger through your slit, collecting your fluids. He brought it to his lips, groaning deeply when he tasted you.

“My favorite,” you wiggled your ass. Immediately, you felt your left cheek sting, hearing the sharp smack first. Your mouth dropped in a silent moan—too shocked for any sound to come out.

“I’ll teach you a thing about branding,” Erik said, winding up his arm before bringing his palm down on your right ass. He watched the flesh jiggle, waiting for the redness to spread on your skin. He spanked you again, letting his fingers catch on your cunt. You squeezed your eyes shut, yelping in both pain and pleasure. “Since you seem to like it so much, I’ll make an example out of you.”

You bit your lip, too stubborn to let him hear you moan. Your nails dug into the couch as you took blow by blow. The skin was stinging, made worse when you felt the tip of Erik’s nail on the swell of your eyes. A whimper left your lips as he carved a crooked “E” on your flesh. The skin puffed slightly, making the letter even more visible. 

“You’re getting off this, you little freak,” he chuckled breathlessly. You panted, rocking back and forth as he wound circles around your clit. “You’re so fucking wet and I haven’t even gotten my cock out.”

“Fuck you,” you rasped out, trying to force more friction. His touch was light, teasing. You were about to turn your head back to spout more swears at him, when you felt a sharp smack against your cunt. You let out a strangled cry, bringing your thighs together.

“Oh, did that hurt? Poor baby,” he mocked you, forcing your thighs apart with his hands. Two fingers rubbed your slit up and down, barely dipping into you. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Erik.” His name came out as a breathy whine. “Stop teasing.”

“Only if you ask politely,” he mimicked your words from earlier.

You groaned, throwing your head back in frustration. “Erik, please just fucking put them in already! I need your fingers so bad, baby, please. Please—fuck!”

You inhaled sharply as Erik slipped his fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt. He brought them back and forth, angling his hand until he hit the spot that made you see stars. Your breath stuttered, arms almost giving out. Erik snaked his other hand onto your neck, fingers pressing lightly against your throat. He guided you forward, letting the backrest hit your collarbones, your arms bent on top of it.

“Yeah, that’s it.” His voice mixed with the playlist and the squelching noises your cunt made. Each push of his fingers made you tense more, a coil winding up in your stomach. Your mind was clouded, taken over only by his scent, his touch, his voice. Your eyelids fluttered, sinful moans loudly leaving your lips.

“You’re gonna be a good doll and fucking follow orders this time.” He was bent over you, whispering harshly into your ear. He caught the bottom of your lobe, grinding it in between his teeth. Tears sprang from the corners of your eyes, a broken moan wretching its way out of your throat. “I know you’re getting close. You’re gonna make a mess all over my fingers, then you’re gonna kneel all pretty there and take it like a good girl when I fuck you, okay?”

You nodded your head, too lost in the pleasure to think properly. He let go of your throat, grabbing a fistful of your hair instead to yank your head back. “Can you talk to me, or are you too fucking dumb right now?”

“Erik, p-please. Yes, please fuck me, please let me cum, p-please,” you stuttered out, yelling as your orgasm hit you. You ground back into his palm, shaking as more slick gushed out of you. He continued to pump his fingers, slowing his pace as you rode out your high.

Taking big gulps of air, you placed your head on the chair’s backrest, thighs still trembling. You could faintly hear the clinking of his belt, followed by heavy fabric falling down. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt the cool tip of his prince albert poke slip in between your folds. “W-wait, Erik—”

“What’s your color, doll?” he murmured against your back, pressing soft kisses up your spine. He stopped the trail at your shoulder, biting and suckling on the skin until it bruised. You can’t imagine how much more marks your hips and ass had. He waited patiently for your answer, rubbing your waist soothingly.

You finally managed to catch your breath. “G-green.”

“That’s a good girl,” you could feel him smirk. He pressed a kiss on the crook of your neck, then entered you in one fluid motion. You let out a broken cry, feeling his piercing brush against your cervix. He stayed buried to the hilt, grinding his cock impossibly deeper into you.

“P-please,” you begged him. His hand found its way place back on your neck, fingers carefully placed so that he wouldn’t be pressing down on your windpipe. He gripped your hips firmly. Once he was satisfied with his position, he thursted into you. Slowly, cruelly.

He pulled out, leaving only the tip in, before pressing flush against your ass. You gasped each time, his cock expertly nailing your g-spot. Erik grunted, breathing heavily each time he thrust into you. Your cunt clenched tightly around him, greedily taking in his thick cock. No matter how many times you fucked, the delicious stretch always surprised you.

Erik could feel you getting close again. Your uneven breathing, how tight you had curled your toes, the steady stream of moans spilling from your lips—half of them profanities while the rest was his name. “Does my doll want to cum again?”

“M-mhhmm,” you gasped in between moans.

“Gotta do better than that, doll.” He applied light pressure to your throat, starting to quicken his pace. 

“C-cum! Erik, w-wanna cum, fu-fuck—please!” you mewled, barely hearing him give you permission. For a second, you blacked out, cunt spasming around his cock. Your mouth opened in a silent yell, moans caught in the throat he held. Your body went slack, drained by the powerful orgasm he forced out of you. The only things holding you up were his hands on your neck and hips. He used your body as leverage, pulling you into him as he snapped his hips.

Erik kept thrusting into you, following an animalistic rhythm. He plowed on, making the sofa creak, lightly bumping your cheek into the upholstery each time he bottomed out. You were barely coherent—the only thing you knew was that you felt so fucking good. Small ungh, ungh, ungh’s, was the only thing you were capable of saying. 

“Look at you. See, you could listen for once. Staying still like a pretty doll while I use you. You’re such a good girl. You’re gonna let me fill you up, won’t you, doll?” He moaned, voice breaking towards the end. His thrusts were getting sloppier, shallower. He was getting off on his words as much as you were. It always turned him on how fast he could reduce you to a mindless mess, cock-drunk, eyes glazed over.

“Y-yes, please,” you squeaked, voice already raw. He snickered lightly, moaning wantonly behind you, already starting to lose control.

“That’s my good girl. Good fucking slut,” he growled, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. Hot spurts of cum painted your walls, Erik grinding slowly into you, coaxing more of his seed to spill out. You clamped down on him, cumming for the third time as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. After milking himself in your cunt, he stilled, draping his body over yours, pulling you close.

He hooked his chin over your shoulder, pressing soothing kisses on your cheek and neck. When your breathing went back to normal, he slowly pulled out. You sighed at the emptiness, clenching as his cum dripped out of your spent cunt. He stared for a moment, entranced by the mixture of fluids. His focused snapped back to you when you groaned, limbs already sore.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered. He took you into his arms, gently lying down on the larger couch with you on top of him. He ran his fingers through your hair, lightly scratching your scalp. You hummed in contentment, feeling so so tired but also so full.

“You did so well for me. You’re always so good to me, baby.” His voice took a softer lilt, always the polar opposite after rough sessions. His touch felt warmer, lighter, more afraid to break you. “You can go to sleep if you want, okay? I’ll be here.”

With his reassurance, you let your eyes flutter shut. It didn’t take long for you to doze off, cheek pressed against his chest. He kept on playing with your hair and drumming his fingers against the base of your spine. He only stopped once he was sure you were deep into your slumber. 

────୨ৎ────

You woke up in your bed, way past dinner.

Bleary-eyed, the first thing you saw was Erik sitting by your desk, his back turned to you. You glanced down at yourself, discovering that you’ve been dressed in fresh clothes—one of your sleep tees and the boxers you stole from him. You stretched your limbs, wincing at the slight soreness in your lower half. Erik turned to you, hearing the rustling of your covers.

“Hey,” he smiled softly. You patted the empty space next to you, pouting at him. Your stomach grumbled, but you could hardly care. You just needed him close.

He climbed into bed, taking his place next to you under the covers. “You gonna stop being an asshole now?”

You snorted loudly, laughter like tinkling bells in his ears. He watched fondly as your eyes scrunched up. “Hello to you, too.”

“Sit up and drink some water, okay?” He took the glass placed on your nightstand, bringing it to your lips. You gladly accepted, the water quenching your parched throat. “I’ll order some takeout for a late, late dinner.”

“Did I get to help with the tattoo?” you murmured, still drowsy.

“I think I got it down, baby,” he smirked, pecking your lips. He wasn’t going to tell you that he never got a proper sketch because he kept staring at your tits. To his merit, he did try, but just got so distracted. It was going to be a problem for future Erik. Presently, Erik just wants to eat takeout and be with you. 

[hibiscusseaart]

So about Time Travel Tobirama

He gets back in his childhood, the period when Kawarama was already dead, but Itama still alive, just cuz I like Itama alive and well, ok. (also i love the idea of Itama the weed shinobi by @oh-no-its-bird so)

And he starts to think and strategise smth like "Ok, I need to kill Black Zetsu, but idk where he is. But he should be around Uchihas, so I must come closer. But I cant just go there, we're not in peace, they'd kill me. And I don't exactly know when Black Zetsu is gonna try to manipulate Madara. So I also have to monitor Madara and make sure Izuna doesn't ever dies, to ensure that Madara won't lose his shit".

So, he's really logical and his conclusion was "So the easiest way to monitor the Uchiha clan is to marry an Uchiha." But he can't just marry a random Uchiha, it'd be shitty for politics he is the clan heir after Hashirama after all + it'd be nice way to strengthen peace via marriage. Plus he needs to keep close eye to Madara. So. Marrying Madara it is. Or Izuna. But first of all, Izuna is annoying and second he still needs very carefully look for potential signs of Black Zetsu corruption and it's better to do that when they're in close quarters. So the best case scenario is Madara's hand in marriage.

Killing Madara might be easier, but Hashirama would be sad. Plus I think the ppl who helped him to be sent in the past (coughnaruto who said that) told him smth about that Madara and Hashirama are Indra and Ashura reincarnations and be like "What if daddy Sage gets angry..."

So yeah no killing Madara. Even though he kinda wants to.

And to be clear, he had this plan in the few days he's back in his baby body. He's like 10-12 or whatever, when Hashi starts running to the river to meet Madara. Oh and Itama is safe and sound cuz Tobi said fuck Butsuma and went to safe his baby brother.

So one day Tobirama follows his brother to the river to actually meet Madara before his father decides to fuck everything.

So, Tobirama's the most fucked up honeypot mission officially begun. Tobirama is gonna be like "Ok i need to impress a 12 yo... But I cant just show him a cool jutsu, he might think about me as a rival or whatever... Kids like praise and cool things... Maybe I can tell him that he's cute and find him a cool stick? Should I ask Anija to make a cool stick?"

He meets Madara (without a stick, Hashirama might've suspect smth) and be like "Wow, Anija who would've known you've made such a cute friend" (Tobirama is hard cringing in his head, he's not the best in honeypot missions) and Madara, being about 12 year old, is standing there covered in mud, cuz Hashirama threw him into river or whatever + the little hc that he's kinda ugly when he's in his teens. Like Madara thinks of himself as strong and cool, but not particularly handsome with his wild hair and eye bags.

So Madara is smitten cuz wow pretty boy with red eyes said that He's cute!!!

Tobirama looks at Madara's dopey smile and thinks of the first phase as a success. Now Tobirama starts to spend some time with Hashirama and Madara to monitor their surroundings from their clans, while Itama distracts their father, and also try to win over Madara when he is still an impressionable kid. Plus he starts hinting that they may be Senju and Uchiha and that they should be prepared. But well they're kids who wants to escape all that war and just play with a peer so.

Long story short, Madara be like "So we're gonna make a village and then I'm gonna marry Tobirama!"

Tobi "fuck yes, a bit ahead of the schedule, but sounds good, i'm in"

Hashirama is outraged bc THATS HIS LIL BROTHER!!!

So Tobirama plays hard and makes Madara promise to marry him when they're old enough.

But then well, they're still found out and they still have a fallout cuz of their clans. But Tobirama made them promise to try hard for peace (and marriage), so now they just have to wait til Butsuma dies and Hashirama can become a clan head.

Tobirama tries not to be so efficient at killing Uchihas cuz he will be their family later so he tries to avoid it and just knock out or use some non lethal methods. Hashirama mostly fights Madara and it's almost sparrings at this point. Itama works on his weed empire and learns healing.

Well one day Butsuma dies and Hashirama and Tobirama bully their Elders and rush to try for peace. Tajima (who I think is still alive) is suspicious of all of it and stalls af.

So one day on the battlefield Tobirama says "So, marriage when? You promised asshole", making all the Uchiha and Senju stumble and "HUH?!"

So now many of the Senju and Uchiha now know that Uchiha clan heir apparently proposed to the Senju heir ??? Everyone is confused.

Madara, still crushing hard on Tobirama, catches this opportunity and bullies everyone to allow peace and let him marry Tobirama. Uchiha allow it only cuz everyone knows how crazy Uchihas about loved ones and Madara is the strongest one. They kinda afraid that if they won't allow it, he'd go crazy (he would).

So Madara gets his trophy wife Tobirama, Tobirama gets his safari zone with Uchihas in their natural habitat.

Tobirama is a surprisingly good husband to Madara, cuz with all that Zetsu thing, he's attentive as hell. "Something bothering you, dear husband? Do tell me everything."

At first they think he'd learn things and will tell that all back to Senju, but Tobirama tries to assure them "I don't really care about details. Tell me about how it makes you feel." (he looks for the signs of Zetsu corruption)

So basically Tobirama marries Madara to become his therapist. Madara is very much in love and constantly brags how much his spouse loves him and that he always listens his worries.

Izuna is mad as fuck about all of it btw. He thinks that Tobirama has ulterior motives and hides something. (He's right. ) But Tobirama dutifully plays his part as an attentive spouse and makes plans for bettering Uchiha clan just so that the village won't suffer. He'd probably would prescribe them regular therapy for everyone who awoken Sharingan.

also @fashionredalert write a snippet for this au with madara in the mud! pls check it out!

UPDATE: It's a fic! :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59684869/chapters/152226814

[keelt9]

TICK TACK

Masterlist

A/N: I don’t know but yeah, I see Oscar on leading for a while… plus I’m optimistic for the championship.

Should I post part 2? Pt. 2😏

She didn’t mean to fail the last exam, forcing her to sentence her subject and the last semester of her career. Still, there she is sitting as she taps the wooden floor with her best friend giving her all the support she could.

“I still don’t get it.” Gema said seeing down where the last group of students are answering the exam as the other two groups remind up there of the auditorium, waiting.

That’s how Doctor Thurpin works, you fail a test and if you want it back that grade, he gladly will wait for you the next weekend, literally weekend because he, quote, likes the Sunday for a good and refreshing replacement of exam.

“You are so good at this. How do you fail?” Gema sentences looking around the people who are tired and impatient for Mr. Thurpin, started to grade.

Y/N tosses her hair in desperation.

“I DON’T!” The room full of shh as the eagle eyes of Mr. Truphin makes her scream in silence. “It was the GP of Bahrain, I stayed awake until 4 in the morning and I woke up at 7 am.”

She scoffs, still hard to believe how life is playing tricks with her. “At that hour the exam begins, I fall asleep.”

Running and with different shoes, she arrived at a closed classroom hoping for mercy but Mr. Thurpin only pointed to his watch through the windows before waving his hand.

“Talking with Oscar, huh?” 

For Gema it is still hard to believe, if three years ago someone told her on a random day she found the one and only Oscar Pastri coming out of the bedroom on the 4th floor of their dormitory as her best friend grabbing his hand, she would call them crazy.

Until her eyes witness. Gema left the dormitory that weekend to spend a few days with her family, Y/N told her she had a lot of homework so she will be staying, she forgot to mention her homework, which is called Oscar Piastri.

Almost a heart attack after, she discovers that weekend her best friend made official the relationship with a boy she met on a casual day, last summer, as she helps her mother in the store they had next to the beach. 

“I wish. Actually, I was waiting for his call.” She smiles, lighting up the screen of his phone. “But the press conferences kept him busy.”

A photo of Oscar with his first trophy, the first win.  

“By the way, thanks for changing my flight.” Y/N said to tangle her arm with her best friend. 

She was supposed to be in the airport taking a flight to Saudi Arabia for the grand prix, instead of waiting for a grade.

Gema takes another gummy. “No worries, I call it good persuasion and family contacts.”

The ringing of the bells announce the end of the exam of the third group, finally Mr. Thurpin will begin to grade under the anxious eyes of his students. 

Taking his damn time like he actually doesn't know every answer.

“I'm freaking out.” Y/N whine seeing another text of Oscar.

 >I couldn't find you! Dinner later?

She doesn't mean to lie to him, however for Oscar she arrived in Saudi Arabia time, early in the morning. 

Watching the free practice and the race from the stands where she said prefers to, otherwise she would freak out hearing him with a lot of numbers and letters on the big screens.

Of course Oscar adapts her choice to the VIP zone, in the stands but in a zone he's able to see her every time he goes down from the car.

But, this Grand Prix is an overwhelming step of what he's capable of doing and he's hungry for the victory. And she doesn't want him being distracted for anything else, of course less for her.

Gema didn't need to read it, the way she hissed as her phone started to spin between her fingers is all she needed for knowing Y/N lied about something.

“He doesn't know, huh?” Gema asks as they hear another person being called for the note.

Y/N let her head down, shaking it. “The race is the most important thing, he must be focused on that.”

Gema has seen how Oscar looks at her, she is essential for him, to be in an important race it’s pure fuel to him.

“You'll be there, don't worry.” Y/N sees her. “Or we can find a way to get you there.”

Gema winks at her.

Oscar is nervous, it's late at night and his message, still with no response, he's not that toxic but it's strange.

The time difference isn't helpful sometimes but she replies no matter the time, this time seems to be the exception.

“All good?” Lando asks as they walk inside of the hotel after dinner together.

Oscar's eyes aren't stuck to his phone but his hand does.

Oscar moves his head around searching among the few people in the lobby.

“Have you seen Y/N?” Oscar asks as Lando smiles seeing his friend so over the clouds.

His non expressive face changes into a breezy smile and bright eyes every time he's with her.

“That clingy, huh?” Lando teases him as he scoffs.

“I haven't seen her, and she hasn't replied, I'm a little worried.” Oscar sees his screen but nothing, just her picture.

Last year, she was in the middle of the paddock doing homework before the qualy, notebook on her lap and headphones over as she heard all the indications to Oscar, she jokes with him saying it’s her favorite playlist. He owes the photo to one of his engineers.

Ok, for Lando that's weird too. Yeah, she isn't the most searched wag of the paddock but she's nice and lovely plus hates to worry Oscar.

Lando thinks for a second, who could find out something, but he doesn't have a clue.

“If you call her?” The lethal eyes of Oscar is the sign of how stupid his question is.

He already called her…right to the voicemail after the third beep.

The elevator doors open even though he is willing to wait for her; he also knows must sleep early. 

Dragging his feets to the room he gets ready to go inside of the bed with discomfort all the time.

When his phone rings, Y/N is calling.

“Ba…” Oscar begins but she doesn't let him talk.

“I'm sorry, I lied to you.” She hears anger as the audible sound of wheels against the floor calls for his attention. “I… fuck, I couldn't take the plane on time, and the one I had scheduled is cancel…”

Is not hard to imagine her furious sitting next to her suitcase tired as she keeps looking at the screen where the flight status doesn't change at all.

“Are you alright?” The question of Oscar makes her eyes watery, this isn't exactly she refuses to call him, he will say something that makes her want to cry.

Oscar hears the sniff through the call, wanting badly to hold her but he simply can’t. 

After a detailed description of what happened Oscar understood the reason for her silence.

“Love, I already told you if you had more important things to do next day, it’s ok, you don’t need to watch the race.” Oscar said sitting on the bed feeling useless for not being able to do something. 

She’s seeing the planes leaving and arriving from the big crystal walls. “Are you trying to get me more mad?” 

The same times, she told him that she can’t be with him at every race. She likes to think watching the race is the minimum she can do for him, in a way to be with him even in the distance.

“It’s my fault, ok? You know I don’t have trouble with waking up the next day… This time my alarm doesn’t work as it should.” She slipped on the floor one more time. “I’m sorry I can be with you tomorrow.”

“Can you do one thing for me instead?” Oscar smiles at himself. 

Y/N chuckles. “Without a question.”

“Go home, sleep, you probably need it and watch the race tomorrow as you eat something delicious.” She feels her heart squeeze as his tenedernes. “I’ll make sure to fly as soon as I finish everything here. George wouldn't mind giving me a ride.” 

She giggles seeing the same status of her flight: cancel.

“I’m…” 

Oscar shakes his head and cuts her. “One more apology and I swear to you I’m going to be stressed for tomorrow.”

 “NO!” She feels shy when multiple eyes land on her sitting on the floor. “Sleep, and focus on the race, that’s all you need to do.” She breathes in and resigns herself to missing the race. “I’ll be watching you ok?”

Oscar smiles and nods. “I know.”

Y/N plays with the zip of her suitcase. “I love you.” Oscar definitely knows how to comfort her. 

“I love you too, I know we’ll be celebrating you at the top… You’re a monster on track Oscar, believe it.” 

Oscar closes his eyes, seeing the charm he always carries with him, next to the bed.

In the drivers parade he keeps focus, he talks with some pilots but his mind is control and focus, he knows having Max at his side in the first position it’s always a beating risk, still he’s not afraid.

Getting inside of the room, he changes his clothes in calmness, when a knock on the door distracts him. 

Tom, his engineer, appears in the room. “Oscar, let’s go.” 

Oscar nods, watching one last time their photo with a pair of tape at the four corners. 

“She couldn’t come huh?”  Tom knows who Y/N is, he must know the girl who is being so discreet about their relationship, still so unbothered each time she needs to show Oscar how much he cares about him.

“Sometimes I hate the commercial flights!” He shouts in whisper touching the photo before walking to the garage. 

With the last indications of the team Oscar goes inside of the car taking mental notes of the telemetry and the indication of the team.

“Ok, Oscar, radio check.” He hears once he’s inside of the car.

“Copy.” He answers, making sure all inside it’s all right.

“Ok Oscar, before we start we want to run one last test.” Oscar sees in front where all the engineers are but any of them turn around, one last test in the last minutes? “We call it missed assistance.”

Oscar scoff. “Is it legal?”

“It’s a valid test with no virtual witness.” Oscar is more intrigued, but they don't ask him more questions.

“Radio check.” Her voice put in alert all the senses of Oscar scanning over and over the garage in the front part.

He giggles. “Copy.” 

“That advance is technology, huh?” Oscar is sure she never imagined how much he loves her rambling. “Talking through my phone to the helmet of an F1 driver.”

Oscar let his head back under the cheeky eyes of his team. “Not any formula one driver.”

“Right! Sure, I forgot to specify.” She laughs. “Oscar Pastri helmet, which will result in my boyfriend, it's an out of world experience.”

Oscar laughs, at the other side of the garage Lando is shaking his head before going inside of the car, you don’t have to question yourself who is calling him. 

“Now, Tom told me to be short.” She cleared her throat. “Drive safe, focus and it’s useless to say but stay calm, and the most important thing…”

“Have fun.” Even though he refuses to bring that feeling he wishes she could be there to hear those words as she is resting among his arms and her arms around his neck. 

“NO.” She raises her voice. “Win that race!” 

Oscar laughs harder this time. Even Zak can hear him, looking at Tom who has a proud smile on his face. 

“I’m joking.” She stops laughing too. “Have fun, ok?”

“God! I wish you were here.” Oscar whispered.

Before Tom interrupts them. “Ok, baby doves, it’s time, one last word Y/N please.”

“I love you.” Who said it first doesn't even care, the important thing is the last words they heard from each other.

[a99jazzybean]

Feeling the Heat

synop: Viktor has noticed odd behaviors from you, their roommate. Due to you being a vastaya, he has a feeling you might be going into heat. He and Jayce join forces to help you through your annual predicament.

words: 5.2K

includes: jayvikxfem!reader, vastaya reader, foxgirl reader, explicit sexual content, dirty talk, creampie, heat cycles

a/n: 18+ readers only!!! I'm taking so much creative liberties with vastaya lore. Literally the majority of this is my headcanons, I am not saying this is accurate to League canon whatsoever.

There was an itching feeling crawling up your skin. A familiar one, but still irritating. It made your skin hot, not as if it was on fire, but you knew it would get there eventually. But you couldn’t worry about it too much, there was so much for you to do. Viktor and Jayce had sent you out to pick up much needed parts for them. As always, you gladly took up the task. After all, you owed them greatly. An impending heat was nothing compared to the kindness the men had offered you. 

As you made your way through the streets of Piltover, you did your best to shake off the growing irritation under your skin. Taking in your surroundings you allowed yourself to find some distraction to keep the growing warmth in your belly at bay. Despite the cool breeze, sweat prickled on your forehead. You wiped it off, pretending you didn’t notice it. 

You knew that your efforts were futile, but you persisted regardless. Continuing your way down the bustling streets. Stopping in various stores, checking off items on the list that the boys had sent you off with. By the early afternoon you had completed your tasks. While you did your best to ignore the growing need inside, you could feel it trying to claw its way out of you. All you had to do was bring the items to the lab, then hole yourself up in your room. Wait out the few days of your heat. Hopefully you could avoid the men before you made your way home. If you had to encounter them… well who knows how you would react?

It was just a few years ago that the men had found you. A shivering lonely woman scrounging for scraps in the lanes. One of the lucky ones that made it out. For you were a unique specimen. A vastaya. Complete with large fox ears and fluffy tail. Something that the brothels of Zaun would gladly house. Especially considering the type of yearly predicament you found yourself in. 

When Jayce realized what you were, he knew that he had to get you out of the undercity. Perhaps it was a selfish motive, but he knew that your kind had an attunement to magic others did not possess. So while it was a good deed, taking you in, there was still a pitiful part of him that knew his motives were less than squeaky clean. That desperate part of him so heavily fixated on magic that he would find a way to house a creature such as yourself to learn more. 

Viktor was hesitant to bring you into the fold, but you had quickly proved yourself to the men. Demonstrating your magical abilities with quite the finesse for a struggling being. Though it wasn’t surprising to you. Your mother had taught you how to harness your magical abilities long ago. But you were without her now, and it showed. 

For as long as possible you avoided the deepest pits Zaun had to offer. Managing to dodge shimmer and sex work, though just barely. Many a time you almost caved, desperate for the money. However, you persisted. Clawing your way out of this pit that the death of your family had thrown you in. 

Now, you needn’t worry about that. Your past was in the past. Neither Jayce nor Viktor ever questioned you on it. As long as you were able to prove your abilities, you proved your worth. 

That’s how it was at the beginning at least. As time passed, the men grew fond of you. Learning that you had quite the charm. Plus it helped to have a pretty face around the lab. Though they wouldn’t admit that out loud. The two grew accustomed to your swishing tail and the curious twitch of your ears.

 Jayce especially enjoyed your fox attributes. Finding those exotic parts of you quite fascinating, beautiful even. Viktor would often catch the other man staring at you as you helped organize their materials. Eyes wandering to your backside as your tail absentmindedly swayed from side to side. A motion that was almost hypnotic. Though it wasn’t just your tail he had often stared at. He did greatly enjoy the lovely curve of your ass, but the distraction of your tail was a good excuse as to why his eyes wandered. 

Somehow, you never noticed the way he looked at you. The longing that now accompanied his gaze. You were used to people staring, and with Jayce’s fascination with you, it was a normal occurrence. Oh how he wished you would notice, to have you share some of the affections that he now held for you. 

Viktor fared no better than the other man. While he had attempted to remain indifferent to your presence, it was difficult for him to ignore the pull that you had. Jayce was drawn to the unique parts of you. Viktor was fond of the intimate parts of you.

After living with them for a few months you had finally allowed yourself to be more vulnerable. During one of the rare times you were home alone with the man, Viktor had found you silently crying in the kitchen. A sight that he had never seen before. You had managed to keep up quite the strong persona, despite the state that the men had originally found you in. It was a moment that you had wished Viktor didn’t catch you in. Pity wasn’t something you wanted  from anyone, but it wasn’t pity that was written on the man’s face as he walked into the kitchen. Cane and feet softly making their way toward you. Stopping with a hand outstretched. A soft sadness in his eyes, a newfound camaraderie discovered between the two of you. It was unspoken, the shared history of a life spent in the undercity. A history that had you taking his hand, allowing him to pull you into an uncharacteristic embrace. Although you had just been in a somber mood, you found your tail wagging. A soft chuckle escaping the man that held you as he watched your tail swish with happiness. 

With your closeness, you wondered if it was wrong of you to hide your current condition. The men had studied vastayan history and culture as much as they could. It was difficult for them to find accurate texts, but they had been able to piece together what they could without prying too much into your life. 

Viktor had learned that some of your kind depending on their animal subspecies went through periods of heat. You had managed to hide your annual predicament from the men for the past few years. Though now, it seemed that your string of luck had run out. The last years you had pretended you were merely ill with terrible allergies, but you were certain with the scientists that they were, they would eventually notice the yearly pattern. It was unavoidable, so you hoped you could inconspicuously hole up in your room without them noticing. 

However, unbeknownst to you, Viktor had a sneaking suspicion that you were hiding something from them. With the research he had done, he pieced clues together that you were about to go into a heat. 

There were little things that had piqued his interest. The way that you had become clingier to the men. Often hugging them, rubbing your cheeks and neck against their chests and shoulders. Jayce found the actions endearing, but Viktor knew better than that. You had been unconsciously staking your claim on the men, scenting them to deter other potential mates. At least that’s what he had read. 

Then there was the way you had been stealing the men’s clothes. Snagging a used sweater off the back of Jayce’s chair when he took it off. Burying your face into the cloth with a smile. Brazenly snatching Viktor’s undershirt after he changed for bed. It was as if you didn’t even know you were doing it. The man had spotted you curled up in your bed, surrounded by various articles of the men's clothes. The sight had Viktor’s heart melting, but there was a nagging part of him concerned about your actions. Putting the pieces together, recognizing that you were showing the beginning signs of heading into a heat.

He was surprised that you had managed to hide your previous heats from them. Now with the signs so clear to him he wondered how they hadn’t ever noticed before. 

As the men waited for you in their lab, Viktor knew he had to inform Jayce of your impending heat. It was only a matter of time that the peak of your cycle would crest, and he needed to make sure that they could help you through it. From what he knew, heats were a painful and difficult time without a mate. Knowing that you had been going through that alone for so long now saddened Viktor. He knew that it would hurt Jayce too. 

“Jayce…” Viktor wondered how he was supposed to begin this talk. 

“Something going on, V?” Jayce spun around to face the other man. 

“Yes, it’s about y/n…” Jayce raised a questioning brow, wondering where this was going. 

“What about her?” 

“Have you noticed she’s been acting odd lately?” Maybe he could lead Jayce to the conclusion to spare himself the embarrassment of revealing your condition. 

“Um, not really? She seems like her normal self to me.” 

Ah, that’s right. Jayce was always so overly touchy, he probably wasn’t surprised at the way you were responding to him.

“I’m going to avoid beating around the bush. She is…” The opening of the lab door made Viktor pause. 

The two men turned to see you in the doorway, a large paper bag in hand likely holding the materials they had requested. Well that was inconvenient timing… Viktor needed to have this conversation with Jayce, but would have to table it for now. Instead he decided to observe you to see where you were at in the process of your heat. 

As you made your way over to the men, Viktor’s eyes widened. Oh, you were definitely reaching the height of your cycle. Naturally you had always smelt quite pleasant, but now, you smelled utterly delectable. Viktor felt his mouth watering as you brushed by to place the materials on their workbench. He knew that the scent of a heat could affect most mammals, but didn’t expect it to hit as hard as it did. Based on how Jayce was behaving, he could tell he was affected as well. 

Shit. You forgot that your heat wasn’t just to attract other vastaya. While they were the more preferable race to compliment your biology, you were easily able to procreate with other beings. Humans included, and your biological output was made to attract anything that could potentially get you pregnant. Which meant you had inadvertently seduced your roommates. 

“Well, here’s the stuff. I gotta head back home now, I’m not feeling too well.” You attempted to make a quick getaway, but was stopped by a strong hand grasping your forearm.

“You feeling sick?” Jayce asked, though his tone was lower than normal. 

Viktor thickly swallowed. He didn’t have enough time to speak with Jayce, and now your natural effects were getting to the man. At least with his knowledge Viktor was able to somewhat push away this animalistic side, but Jayce was another story entirely.

“Um, yeah. So you should let me go… so I don’t get you sick too.” You attempted to pull away, but Jayce’s grip remained firm. 

“Jayce…” Viktor placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “You should let her go home.”

The hand made Jayce jolt out of whatever trance you had put him in. Pupils returned back to their normal size as his grip loosened and allowed you to walk away. Nodding a thanks at Viktor, you sped out of the lab and raced back to your shared apartment.

“Viktor, what just happened?” Jayce watched as you left, shivering as his adrenaline came down.

“That’s eh… what I wished to speak to you about.” Jayce turned back to Viktor. The questioning look returned to his face. 

“Go on…”

“Remember when we were doing research on vastaya? Well, I happened upon a section of a text that discussed sexual mature mammalian variants can sometimes go into an annual heat. Something to do with the animal aspects, though not much research has been done on it…” Viktor had begun to ramble. Something Jayce knew he did when attempting to avoid uncomfortable topics.

“So what you’re saying is she’s horny.” Viktor’s eyes widened at the man’s brazenness. 

“That is a bit of a crude way of putting it,” he huffed. “Though I suppose that would technically be accurate.”

“If this happens every year? Why haven’t we noticed it before?” 

Viktor shrugged.

“I suppose she did a good job at hiding it from us.” Viktor thought about the previous years.

Looking back, he realized that you had always become sick around this time of year. Keeping to yourself in your room, only coming out to get food and go to the restroom. Though when you did have to exit your space, you tried doing so when the men weren’t around. Now Viktor understood. It wasn’t that you didn’t wish for their aid while you were ill, you weren’t ill at all. 

He wasn’t offended by your avoidance. It was clearly a touchy subject, and understandably so. 

“What should we do?” Jayce asked, eyebrows furrowed with worry. 

Viktor bit his tongue in thought. From his research he knew there was only one way to make your heat go by faster, but he did not know if you would be willing to do so. Plus, he wasn’t sure you would be in the right state of mind to even consent. However, there was still a part of him that wished to explore the taboo option. 

“We could… eh… offer assistance?” Viktor studied Jayce’s response. 

“You mean…” He trailed, pointing between himself and Viktor, then behind himself to indicate your person.

“Based on my research, fornication is the best way to pass a heat. Though, I suppose that makes sense considering what heats are intended for.” 

“Do you have to make it sound so,” Jayce waved his hands around his face, “clinical?”

“How else would you prefer I phrase it, Jayce?” Viktor grumbled, he wasn’t one for crassness. 

“Sex? Fucking? Anything but ‘fornication’.” 

Viktor chuckled, looking up at his partner with fondness.

“So… should we offer our assistance?” He asked, a teasing glint in his eyes. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hot, hot, hot. It was all you could think about as you uncomfortably squirmed in your bed. You were only wearing one of Jayce’s long shirts, attempting to stop the itching heat and aching between your legs. You couldn’t recall your heats ever making you feel this bad. It was getting painful. Groaning, you pressed your face into your pillow, hoping the pressure would ease something within you. How that would work? You had no idea, but you needed something nonetheless. 

Knocking at your door had you jolting up. Quickly scanning your room you found some sleep shorts to slip on. Not realizing how it would look with you wearing Jayce’s shirt that you might have stolen from his dirty laundry. Your brain was too foggy to care. Before you opened the door you paused. You knew that Jayce or Viktor were behind it, and you didn’t know how you would react if you saw the men. 

Taking a deep breath you willed yourself to remain composed when you saw the men. Opening the door just a crack, you saw both Viktor and Jayce waiting expectantly. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, voice shaky. Just the sight of the men had slick pooling between your thighs. 

“I have a feeling we should be asking you that question.” Jayce said. 

“I’m a bit sick.” You pretended to cough. “I don’t want you guys to catch whatever I got.” 

You watched as the men gave each other a look, then turned back to you with an eyebrow quirked. That itching heat flaring within you, making you softly whine.

“We know you’re not sick.” Viktor said, making your eyes widen.

“W-what do you mean?” You felt your body begin to tremble. Did they know? And if they did, why does the thought excite you?

“Can we come in?” Viktor asked softly. 

That had you gasping. You didn’t know if you could handle having the men in your room with you. Then you realized how embarrassing it would be if they came in. Turning around, you looked over the nest in your bed that had various articles of their clothing tucked within it. 

“I-I don’t think you should. I told you, I don’t want to get you sick.” It was clearly a lie as your voice cracked. 

Viktor looked at Jayce who nodded. The larger man gripping the door and softly pushing it open. You didn’t fight it, you honestly didn’t want to. However, you did step away from them. Trying your hardest to not let their presence get to you, it wasn’t working. Backing into your bed you fell onto your nest. 

Jayce’s eyes widened as he took in the state of your bed. Spotting various articles of clothing mixed with your blankets. He gave a soft chuckle.

“So this is where my sweaters have disappeared to.”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…” Mean to what? Use their clothes to help stave off the painful parts of your heat? How embarrassing.

Your hands flew up to your face as your cheeks heated up. Large warm hands grabbed your wrists and tugged them down, making you face Jayce. He was tenderly gazing at you with a soft smile on his lips. His proximity made you whimper. He smelled so good, you just wanted to roll over onto your stomach for him. Shaking your head, you attempted to remove the thoughts, but with how close he is…

“You look good in my clothes.” He said, looking at the shirt that engulfed your body. 

Heat rose to your cheeks again.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I’ll give you the clothes back.” 

The man stopped your trail of apologies with a hand scritching behind your ears. The action eliciting a purr from you. Oh, it felt really good when he touched you.

“Don’t apologize, we’re here to help you.” He nodded back to Viktor who made his way over to you. 

He joined Jayce in petting your ears, making you melt into their touch.

“Help me?” 

“We know you’re in heat.” Viktor said matter of fact.

Again, the heat flooded to your cheeks.

“You know?” You asked weakly. 

The two of them nodded. Their gazes soft and loving. 

“Do you want us to help you?” Jayce asked. 

Of course you did. But if you accepted, everything would change. Mating during a heat was supposed to be one of the most intimate acts. A part of you would be connected to them in a way they would never be able to understand. Then again, they had done so much for you. Denying how you felt for the men would be useless. As much as they yearned for you, you had felt the same. 

You had made your decision. Nodding at their question.

“Yes, I want you to help me.” You bit your lip. “You know that means that you’ll have to stay with me for the next few days though, right?”

“We’re prepared. We just wanted to make sure this is what you wanted.” Jayce said, hand still scratching behind your ear. 

“And you want to help me?” You didn’t want this to be something they were doing out of pity. Oh to have the men you were pining for want you back. Well, that would be a dream come true. 

Jayce’s hand moved to the back of your head, pulling you forward. His lips pressing against yours in a desperate kiss. The sudden action made you gasp. Pulling away slightly, he responded.

“Yes. I’ve wanted you for so long.” 

His lips found yours once more, this time making you whine into his mouth. Tongues intertwining with the heated kiss. The man groaned as he got a taste of you. Something he didn’t realize he had been craving. Now, it was something he needed. 

When you pulled away, a different hand pulled you toward Viktor. The man taking his opportunity to slot his lips with yours. This kiss still desperate, but softer. You could feel the man’s longing as he took his time deepening the kiss. Tongue lapping at your bottom lip before meeting yours. He too enjoyed your taste. Even if it was just your pheromones making him feel this way. 

Whining as they pulled away, your fingers found the hem of the shirt you were wearing. Ripping it off, you found the men staring at you with their mouths agape. Along with the shirt you pulled off your shorts, sighing as your skin was exposed to cooler air. 

“That was unexpected…” Viktor said, entranced at the state of need you were in.

A frustrated groan left your lips as the men stared at you. Why weren’t they touching you? Couldn’t they see how much you needed them?

Before you could voice your frustrations, Jayce had kneeled at the edge of the bed. Strong hands reached for your thighs and pulled you to him. His pupils were blown out as he stared at your dripping heat. A thick finger slipping between your folds, making you cry out. Finally, they were touching you. 

Jayce began to kiss up your thighs till he reached your drenched pussy. He lapped up the slick that had coated your thighs with an animalistic groan. Delicious and so sweet. He needed more. Diving in, he made you cry out once again. His tongue wishing to taste as much of you as he could. With each swipe of his tongue you felt a knot in your stomach begin to tighten. Soft moans and gasps leaving you as the man ate you out with fervor. 

Viktor felt himself grow hard at the sight of Jayce lapping at your heat. He joined you on the bed. Long fingers trailed over your torso, deciding to play with your breasts. Tweaking a nipple had you moaning and writhing.

 Jayce locked your legs down with his forearms, forcing you to take his ministrations. His hot tongue made you shake as the knot grew tighter. Thighs clenched around Jayce’s head, making the man groan. He had one goal in mind, and boy was he gunning for it. A harsh suck on your clit had your body trembling even more. Another suck had the knot snapping, making you scream with pleasure. A hot spray of your release coating the man’s chin, but he didn’t stop lapping at you. Loving your taste. 

Viktor made the man stop as you began to whimper with overstimulation. Long fingers pulling at Jayce’s hair, making him moan. A fucked out look on his face as he rose with Viktor’s hand. The larger man climbed from between your legs and over your body. Kissing your hot skin sending shivers through you. His lips finding yours again, making you taste yourself. 

The men allowed you to take a breather as they undressed. You watched in awe as they stripped away to reveal their beautifully naked bodies. Jayce’s cock thick and long, slapping against his toned belly. Viktor’s cock springing up with a delicious looking curve. The thought of them inside you had more slick gush out of you as you whimpered. 

“Oh fuck.” Jayce looked at Viktor with wide eyes. “I didn’t know she did that.”

Viktor chuckled darkly, turning back to you. A hand grasping yours and lightly pulling you into a seated position. After softly kissing your hand he laid down on the bed. He beckoned for you to come to him. Obediently, you crawled over to the man. Straddling his waist, feeling his cock brush against your heat. It had you whining once more as you grinded against him. He groaned at the feeling of your slick coating his length.

Looking into his eyes he nodded. Immediately, you sheathed him within your warmth. Both of you moaning as you took him in. His cock pressing against parts of you you didn’t know existed. Slowly, you began to bounce on him. Moans and whines escaping your lips as you chased the pure pleasure. Hoping you would make him reach his release, the need to be bred taking over your brain. 

The man watched as you bounced on him, moaning with each slide up and down his cock. Your wet cunt so warm and inviting, just begging for him to cum in you. Tongue lolling out, you continued riding him at a fast pace. A tightening knot returning to your stomach making you chase your release. Oh how Viktor wished to see you fall apart on his cock. Your face already so fucked out as you took him in eagerly. 

Deft fingers reached for your clit, drawing a hard circle on the sensitive nub. The knot threatening to break at any moment. 

“Cum, please. I need to feel you cum on my cock.” Viktor choked out as you continued your brutal pace. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. 

The man’s words were your undoing. The knot snapping again, making you cry out in pure pleasure. The clamp of your soaking pussy forcing the man beneath you to climax. Hot ropes of cum shooting into you relieving that itch that you so desperately needed scratched. 

“Viktor…” You whined.

Sloppy kisses were placed all over the man’s face and neck. Occasionally you would bite a sensitive spot on his neck. His dick was still inside you as you left love bites on his upper body. He was too exhausted to try and stop you, not that he wanted to. He knew he would be admiring the bruises after your rendezvous.

The man shuddered as you grinded against his now softening dick. Overstimulation making him grip your hips, trying to hold you in place. The action making you whine. You needed more, desperately. 

Viktor took that as his cue to invite Jayce over. 

“Darling, why don’t you let Jayce take care of you?” Viktor’s suggestion had your ears perking up and tail swishing with excitement. 

Groaning, Viktor admired the way your slick mixed with his spend as you lifted off of him. 

As you crawled toward Jayce, Viktor cleared his throat to get both of your attentions. 

“Why don’t you present for him?” The command had you shuddering and nodding. 

On instinct you turned away from Jayce, ass up in the air. Tail swishing with anticipation as the man took in the sight before him. Your slick and Viktors cum dripping down your thighs made something feral in him snap. Rough hands pulled you to the end of the bed. A thick cock was easily shoved into your waiting hole. An obscene squelching noise filled the room. The sound spurring Jayce on. Hips snapping into you at a brutal pace. 

A cry left your lips as he grabbed your tail and lightly pulled. The man groaned as he felt you clench around him at the action. He continued to tug on your tail as he pressed you further into the bed. Your tongue lolling out of your mouth as you took everything the man was giving you. Needing so badly to be bred. 

Viktor had enough time to catch his breath and decided to play with you some more. A hand grabbing your hair, pulling your head back enough for him to kiss you. He swallowed all of your moans. 

“Look at you,” Viktor’s voice was low, “so perfect. Like you were made for us.” 

He tenderly petted your head as Jayce continued to pound into you. Once more making you feel the buildup of your climax begin. Legs trembling with each slide of his cock into your pussy. 

“I bet you want us to breed you, don’t you?” Viktor murmured, making you moan at the thought. 

Right now you would do anything to have the men breed you. Jayce seemed to be fond of the idea, groaning at the thought of being impregnated by them. 

“Want us to give you little kits?” You were sobbing at his words now. 

“Yes! Please! Yes! Breed me!” You cried.

“Well Jayce, do you think we can breed our little fox?” Viktor looked up at the man. 

Jayce’s chest was pressed up against your back as he shoved your body into the mattress. Fucking into you over and over again, making your climax grow nearer. Thick fingers reached around your body and traced circles over your clit. The man groaned as he felt your walls flutter around him.

“Gonna…” He huffed. “Gonna breed this sweet little pussy.” He groaned at the thought of filling you. Feeling his balls tighten as he neared his own end. 

“Please!” You whined, pressing your ass up against him to meet his thrusts. 

One last swipe on your clit had you screaming once more, clamping down on the man. The tightness forcing Jayce’s climax out of him, filling you up again. The heat of his cum satisfying that itch. 

Moaning, you felt the man pull out of you. His spend mixed with Viktor’s dripping out of your abused hole. Though you knew that they weren’t done with you. 

A newfound hunger took over the men. Over the next few days they continued to fuck into you. Spilling load after load inside your slick pussy. The feeling of them cumming in you becoming an addictive sensation. 

By the final day, the itch had pretty much dissipated. You took their last climaxes in a dazed fucked out state, staying high on the overstimulation. 

Both of the men took care of you as you came down from your heat. Peppering you in kisses and sweet nothings. Lightly caressing you as the sweltering heat had begun to subside. Feeling so loved and cared for by the men that had taken you in. 

As you laid between them, you wondered what would happen next. 

“Um…” You didn’t know how to begin.

“Is something the matter?” Viktor looked at you with adoration.

“I guess, I want you to know that this doesn’t have to go anywhere. But I am now tied to you. In a sense.” You bit your lip in nervousness.

“Tied to us?” Jayce asked, wrapping his strong arms around you.

“Yes. Mating during a heat creates a special bond, and I’ve never mated with anyone before.” 

Viktor and Jayce’s eyes widened at the information. Both of them pulled closer to you.

“Well, I do hope this ‘goes somewhere’, so to speak.” Viktor said, a soft smile on his face.

“Me too.” Jayce said, kissing your cheek.

The confession made your heart swell. Happy tears pricked at your eyes. Never before had you felt so loved and wanted. Your tail swished between Jayce’s legs, making the man chuckle. 

“I’ll take that as you wish for this to go somewhere?” He asked, nuzzling into you.

“Yes, of course.” You sighed with content. “It’s something I have wanted for a while.”

With that, the men embraced you. Leaving trails of light kisses as you drifted off into a blissful sleep. 

[gothamite-rambler]

Four weeks after Poseidon has healed up from his wounds he is at brunch with his brothers.

Zeus: Damn... He said that and then walked away? You had no one liner?

Poseidon: I got stabbed with my own weapon that was forged to hurt Gods... My mind was distracted by the new found pain from my stomach wounds!

The room shook as Poseidon angrily grabbed a pancake and chewed on it.

Hades: Hm... Sucks for you. Hermes and I helped him out with the strikes... I think Athena did too.

Poseidon: WHAT?!

Zeus burst into laughter, falling out of his chair in hysterics.

Poseidon: What... The fuck! I thought we were boys! We're brothers!

Hades: Next time don't send over 600 fucking men to the underworld! Intake isn't letting them all past, okay? There's a single file line, unless Hecate joins me, which she did NOT fucking do because over 600 men, and then I have to ask them how they die, their sins and good deeds and do you know how many of those mother fuckers cried about the god of tides ended their life because your bastard son got blinded! Said bastard son you never visited!

Zeus (laughing on the ground): Keep capping on him big bro.

Poseidon (sad): But Zeus killed the rest of his men!

Hades: Under 35 is better than over 600, I've dealt with him accordingly and at least his reason was better. I'm glad Helios didn't move the sun, I can't stand brightness that intense.

Zeus: Plus something like that is to be expected from me.

Hades: Exactly.

Poseidon (fake sobbing): Why are you picking on me! I got stabbed with my own weapon by a man who was blue balled for ten years!

Zeus and Hades: Yes! Because of you! Great now I'm agreeing with him! See what you brought us to?!

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 11]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.1K

Chapter warning(s): Mentions of sleeping pills.

As the sun was starting to set, you called it a day. You didn't want to do too much and make a big mess, plus there were things you needed that you didn't have with you. After washing your hands, you caught sight of a maid bringing a broom out to the garden.

"Let me help you!" You ran forward to her. You didn't notice that there were people in the living room.

"No need, miss. I can do it. Don't worry." The maid smiled, shaking her head when you tried to take the broom from her. She walked out with you behind her.

"Ah... but I created the mess, the least I can do is help you clean it up." You insisted.

"(y/n)." Hongjoong called you, distracting you momentarily.

"If you're done, I would like to speak with you." He spoke. You looked at the maid, who was sweeping up the dirt and soil on the stone pavements, the mess you made.

"I'm sorry for creating the mess. Thanks again." You said to the maid with an apologetic smile. She shook her head and bowed as you left.

"Yes, Hongjoong?" You blinked as you re-entered the house. Now, you saw all 7 of Hongjoong's brothers in the living room, spread across the arm chairs and sofas. They were all dressed so well, compared to yourself. You fiddled with your fingers awkwardly, feeling uncomfortable with all their gazes on you.

"I wanted to introduce you to my other brothers. You've briefly met at the funeral but I guess since you're going to be around a lot more, I should introduce you." Hongjoong explained.

"Oh, okay. Nice to meet all of you, I'm (y/n)." You bowed. They were basically your bosses so you had to be respectful.

"I'm Seonghwa."

"Wooyoung."

"San."

"Yeosang."

"Mingi."

"Jongho."

"You already know me, I'm Yunho. If you need anything while you're here, feel free to let us know. " The tallest boy with a charming smile sent you a friendly wave. It was a lot of names that you'll have to get used to. They seemed nice but intimidating at the same time.

"Okay, that's out of the way. Would you like to stay for dinner?" Hongjoong offered.

"Oh, thank you but I shouldn't overstay." You forced a smile, shaking your head. Honestly, you were taken aback by his invitation, you weren't expecting it at all.

"You're not overstaying." Yunho assured.

"But don't feel forced to. I'm sure you must be tired." Seonghwa stood up and headed to you. You nodded slowly.

"Let me get out driver to send you back. It's the least we could do. Get the chauffeur." Seonghwa said, raising his hand to the butler before you could protest. You grabbed your bag and bowed.

"Thank you. Have a nice evening." You said quickly and headed to the door where the butler was.

"Bye, (y/n)." Hongjoong nodded and you gave him a small, yet apologetic smile.

"You guys are cornering the poor girl. There was no way she was going to stay for dinner. She's formally meeting us for the first time and we're all seated here, staring at her. She's probably scared out of her wits." Seonghwa said to Hongjoong and Yunho the moment you left the house, rolling his eyes.

"I was just trying to be nice. Make her feel more comfortable around us." Hongjoong defended with a shrug. Seonghwa shook his head with a sigh and facepalmed.

"I don't think that's happening any time soon. She was so scared when she saw San's beat up appearance." Wooyoung said.

"That's why we need to prove to her or show her that we're... normal..." Hongjoong trailed off.

"Hyung, why are you trying to keep her close?" Yeosang tilted his head.

"I don't even know how to explain it to you guys. But at some point, I need to know about my mother and she has that information. It's the only way I can get some sort of closure." Hongjoong sighed.

"That's true." Seonghwa nodded in confirmation, supporting his best friend's decision.

"Sure but take it slow. She's nice and all but she looks like she'll be scared off easily." Mingi stated and the rest nodded.

"Can we continue this conversation while we have dinner? I'm hungry." Jongho requested. The 8 men stood up from their seats and shuffled into their dining room, the 8 of them naturally sitting in their designated seats.

"Please enjoy your dinner." The butlers and maids bowed once each of the men had their own trays of food. They then filed out of the room, only one staying behind in case any of the 8 needed anything.

"For the ball, I want everyone in black shoes. Whatever style you choose is fine but black, not white." Hongjoong announced.

"But I bought new white chelseas." San said.

"Wear them next time. And only silver or white gold hardware, no gold." The captain added, he was just that particular about the way they looked at events.

"Yes, captain." The 7 nodded obediently. After that, they gave each other little updates on their work.

"The casino should be 95% done next week and we can go for a tour then, before the grand opening." Wooyoung smiled gleefully.

"That's good. And you both have the staff trained and ready for the grand opening?" Seonghwa asked. Wooyoung and San both nodded their heads.

"The manpower has been settled. It's only 95% done because of minor things like the wrong light bulbs for the carpark. And the curtains that were ordered did not meet our expectations so we have a new batch coming in. Don't worry, everything will be perfect by opening day." San assured.

"Yes, I'm having the invites sent out this weekend." Wooyoung added. Opening night was an 'invite-only' event, as per usual.

"Alright, make sure the governor and president have theirs hand delivered." Hongjoong reminded.

"That has already been arranged. We finally decided on our investors and partners too so we'll have their invites hand delivered too." Wooyoung nodded his head.

"Good job, boys." Hongjoong praised.

"How many valets will you have there?" Mingi asked.

"Opening night will be around 5? We are expecting that the guests will be in chauffeur driven cars anyway. On the regular, we're only hiring 3." San replied.

"Sir." The chauffeur stood at the entrance way of the dining room. Hongjoong stopped the conversation and waved for him to enter.

"The miss has been sent home safely. I walked her up myself." The chauffeur informed.

"Good to hear. Thanks. You are to ensure she is picked up every time she comes to the house for work." Hongjoong nodded in approval. The chauffeur bowed to him and left the dining room. Yunho and Seonghwa raised their hands for another potion of meat as the work conversations continued.

"No other worker has ever had the privilege of being picked up by our chauffeur before, hyung." Yunho teased. Hongjoong rolled his eyes, ignoring the taller.

"Shut up and eat." Hongjoong glared.

"Defensive~" Wooyoung sang. Seonghwa sent Wooyoung a look, the younger could always dish it but not take it.

"So, now that San hyung is out of the fight club. Can I go?" Jongho raised his hand. San rolled his eyes, mumbling in disatisfcation being benched from fighting.

"I thought you didn't want to enter the ring anymore?" Mingi asked.

"Yeah but I've been training in new fight techniques I want to try." Jongho shrugged, looking expentantly at the oldest two.

"Sure, Jongho. Whatever you want to do." Hongjoong sighed, he knew he couldn't really stop them either. The boys can do whatever they want to do.

"Maybe I'll join you. Stop competing in the motorcycle races for a bit. Seonghwa hyung always beats me anyway, it's not fun anymore." Yeosang leaned back on his hands. Seonghwa smirked proudly, no one could take his titles away from him.

"You guys are too competitive." Hongjoong shook his head.

"You do know that we get it from you, right hyung?" Yunho raised an eyebrow. Hongjoong scoffed.

"They're right. You're just too busy now to do anything remotely competitive." Seonghwa added on. Hongjoong nodded in agreement but now, he had no desire to get back to competing.

"Told you to go to the race tracks with us~" Mingi sang.

"If I go tonight, will you guys stop bothering me about it?" Hongjoong asked with frustration.

"Yes!" They all replied.

"Oh, hyung. You're going DOWN!" Wooyoung declared.

After the driver walked you up to your house, despite you insisting that he didn't need to, you closed the door and immediately slumped into your couch.

"That was way too weird." You mumbled to yourself as the events of today sunk in. Looking at the time on your phone, you hauled yourself off the couch and went to cook dinner, which comprised of leftovers from the day before. You thought about how awkward it would have been if you stayed for dinner.

"Ah, damn." You were so lost in your thoughts you didn't realise that your food was close to burning.

You turned off the flame and left your food there before going to take a quick shower so your hair could dry while you ate.

'Kim Hongjoong|'

As you ate, your fingers typed on the search bar of your computer. You knew that Hongjoong and his family probably lived extravagantly, judging by their house, but you were curious.

'CEOs of AURORA Corporation makes huge donation to the new hospital wing for paediatic heart surgery.'

'CEO of AURORA Corp, Kim Hongjoong, was seen as one of guests at the grand opening of...'

'Governor seen at christmas charity auction hosted by AURORA Corp.'

There were so many articles, all linked to Hongjoong, his brothers and AURORA Corp. They seemed like a big, rich company with a lot going on.

You never got that vibe from Mrs Kim, that her son or family was this affluent. Maybe she was just good at hiding it. But it made you wonder if you really knew the real her or did she fake an image and that was the person you knew?

It pained you to think that, you thought you knew her well. She was the best mother figure you had, was it all a lie this entire time?

"Ugh, my head hurts." After your dinner, you did the dishes and closed your laptop, you didn't want to look at it anymore. You headed to the bathroom to wash up and go to bed.

"Thank you. Please come again." You bowed to the customer with a smile as you handed the lady her bouquet.

*DING*

"Mrs Kim. What are you doing here so early?" You grinned, going over to help her with her bags. She had a lunch bag in her hands with containers of food in there.

"Early? My dear, your lunch is way overdue." She clicked her tongue at you. You checked the time and realised how late it was.

"Oh no, you're right. Let me close the sign for lunch." You placed her bags on your work table and went to flip the sign.

"Tea?" You offered as you walked back to where she was seating. She nodded and you poured her a cup, placing it down in front of her as she dug through the lunch bag. She laid out all the glass containers across your work table, placing two containers of rice, one in front of you and one in front of herself.

"You're always bringing me lunch. You don't have to." You said sheepishly.

"I know. But I want to. You're already keeping me company for lunch and tea, the least I can do is provide the food." She raised an eyebrow as she sipped her tea.

"I can always keep you company, even if you don't cook. You know that, I enjoy your company too." You smiled softly.

"Ah, just eat and stop complaining, my dear." She chided.

"Eat more. I cooked a lot." She encouraged as you both dug in. The food was a good, a homecooked meal from a mother, something you never experienced before.

"These vegetables are so good." You complimented, taking some to put onto your rice.

"You are the exact opposite of my son. He doesn't like vegetables, hates it so much. Getting him to eat vegetables was like asking him to eat poison." Mrs Kim laughed behind her hands as she ate.

From that flashback dream, you sat up in bed, running your hands through your hair. Never did you think you would meet Mrs Kim's son, the one she always spoke about, without her. You let out a long, exhausted sigh and laid back down to try and go back to sleep.

"Ugh." Hongjoong woke up. He always has a hard time sleeping, his brain just doesn't think he needs any sleep.

"Every single night..." He got out of bed and headed to his office. The first thing he did was pour himself a drink, maybe the alcohol would put him to bed.

"Hyung? Why are you awake?" Wooyoung poked his head in, having seen the lights in Hongjoong's office turned on.

"You just got back?" Hongjoong asked back when he saw how well dressed Wooyoung was.

"Mhmm. Has a meeting after the race." Wooyoung smiled. He entered the captain's office, removing his jacket and draping it over the chair. He pulled his hair into a neat ponytail.

"Here." Hongjoong handed him a glass of his own.

"Thank you." Wooyoung smiled, clinking glasses with the older before they each took a sip.

"You're still having trouble sleeping?" Wooyoung asked again with a tilt of his head, going to the question from before.

"It's a norm for me now. I don't seem to need much sleep... My brain just wakes up." Hongjoong sighed. There was always so much going on in his head, it was hard for him to turn it all off. They didn't lead normal lives whereby they can just switch themselves off when the sun sets, they were always on alert.

"You should try to sleep more. Sleep deprivation isn't good for anyone, even us." Wooyoung said with raised eyebrows. Hongjoong nodded his head, he knew.

"That's why I'm hoping this will put me to sleep." He shook the crystal glass in his hand.

"Want some help?" Wooyoung asked.

"No, I suffered so much from the side effects of those things, I'll never take them again. Why do you even have those? You sleep just fine." Hongjoong asked with a small frown.

"They're not the street kind. They're legit just for sleeping or calming down, Mingi's guy got them for me." Wooyoung informed.

"Why?"

"In case of situations like this. You never know when any one of us would be plagued by nightmares." Wooyoung shrugged. Hongjoong nodded in agreement, everyone had nightmares every now and then.

It was common for them, with the horrors that they see everyday, it was normal to be haunted by some cases. Even if they look and act like they are okay with it, deep down, it still bothers them. Taking lives and spilling blood isn't a walk in the park.

"Let's get out of here. The office is stuffy." Hongjoong said. Wooyoung went to get the crystal carave with the whiskey and skipped behind Hongjoong.

"Shh, you'll wake the others up." Hongjoong shushed the younger.

"They always pass out after a race." Wooyoung waved the captain off with a mischievous grin.

"By the way, I had to rush off and didn't properly congratulate you on your win. You still got it." Wooyoung chuckled, making Hongjoong roll his eyes.

"Of course I do. You make it sound like I'm old or something." He scoffed. Hongjoong was always a good racer.

"You should do it more often then. Secure more wins for us." Wooyoung nudged him.

"I know what you're doing and nice try... I'm way too busy to be racing like you guys. And you make it sound like you guys can't win without me. Because judging by the stack of money on Hwa's dresser, I know that's not the case." Hongjoong raised an eyebrow as he drank his whiskey.

"Hwa hyung wins to motorcycle races." Wooyoung pointed out. Seonghwa doesn't like driving cars, so he has never competed in the driving races.

"I dare you to say that in front of Yunho and Jongho." Hongjoong challenged and Wooyoung gulped at the leader's words.

"Fine! Just get out of your office every now and then." Wooyoung threw his arms up in exasperation.

"I do leave my office. I'm not a hermit." Hongjoong gave Wooyoung a flat look.

"Oooh I know. There's now a motivation for you to come out of your office, especially since there's a pretty little gardener to talk to." Wooyoung sang. Hongjoong hit the back of his head.

"Shut up. I only spoke to her to make sure she felt comfortable working here." Hongjoong excused.

"Sure hyung... Sure~" Wooyoung teased.

"You're drunk." Hongjoong flicked his forehead, making the younger male yelp. Luckily it was dark or Wooyoung would have seen Hongjoong's slightly pink cheeks. He didn't think so many people would have seen him come out to talk to you today.

"She's a weird one, hyung. From what I saw." Wooyoung said, leaning against Hongjoong's shoulder, snuggling against him. Wooyoung was generally affectionate but this was a sign he was drunk.

"Not weird. Just different, she's normal." Hongjoong let out a soft sigh, pouring more whiskey into his glass.

"Are we not normal...?" Wooyoung drowned out.

"Far from, Wooyoung. We're not normal. After all that we've done, we'll never be normal. (y/n)'s normal, she doesn't know our world." Hongjoong said with dismay.

"She's not normal. Or else, how would she know your mum?" Wooyoung stated.

"Maybe my mum was normal to her." Hongjoong shrugged. Wooyoung laughed at that, sounding like he was in disbelief.

After the whiskey was emptied from the cerave, the two headed in for the night. Hongjoong had Wooyoung's arms around him, guiding him to his room and making sure he was tucked into bed. Being slightly intoxicated, Hongjoong fell flat onto his own bed. He groaned at the slight throb in his head.

"Note to self, don't drink with Wooyoung again." He mumbled to himself as he pushed himself up.

"What the..." Hongjoong felt something in his sweatpant pocket. He dug in and saw a pack of pills that were not there before, he knew Wooyoung must have secretly slipped them in.

He was good at doing that, considering how he usually does the pick pocketing or slipping of information to people secretly.

"Rainy day." He let out a long sigh and threw the sleeping pills into his drawer before getting under the covers, hoping the alcohol will help him stay asleep this time.

~

Series masterlist

[veren-cos]

Bachelors distracting you!

Stardew Valley Bachelors x reader

You need to get work done but they want your attention, and one way or another, they will get it :3

Not proofread, and not very cohesive between characters. Tried to keep it Canon. May or may not have succeeded.

Sam

"No, babe, a new season just started I have to get going on my crops!"

• Would definitely pout and try and hold your hand to prevent you from leaving the house

• As you got out your money and some leftover seeds from last year, he would (not so sneakily) get out his guitar

• He would then start playing a brand new song for you

• Like. Has been saving it for something, and it wasn't quite done, but he just had to get you to stay!

• Then when you tried asking him about it, he would say "no, I'm sorry, I have to work on this song more!"

• Basically mocking you from earlier saying you had to work haha

• This would successfully get you for like an hour, it makes him happy.

Alex

You were bustling around town, and he wanted you to talk to him, even if just for a bit!

• As soon as he saw you enter town he started lifting weights.

• And the more he saw you enter and leave buildings he started using heavier ones, trying to get you to think he is soooooo impressive.

• Eventually when you come to his house BUT DONT TALK TO HIM (how dare you/j) he does that jock boy thing where he wipes his sweat with his shirt

• A cocky bastard (affectionate) who just wants to see you flustered and pause for a second to admire him.

• Yeah. That definitely distracts you as you leave.

(God he is such a dude bro (affectionate-))

Sebastian

You were busy doing work around the farm, and he wanted attention but didn't want to outwardly bother your day.

• Ngl he would either work on his motorcycle purely because he knows you think it's hot, or he would play his synthesizer.

• Depends on how confident he is feeling that day, but he knows both of those need to be done eventually anyways!

• He rarely practices his synth, and knows it fascinates you.

• It's just so cool he knows how to play it!!

• If he works on his motorcycle, you just watch because you are trying to figure out what he is doing

• You want to be able to actually know what he is talking about when he tells you about it later!

• Either way, he knows he grabbed your attention for a little bit, and that's enough for him

• Definitely would not be up in your face about it tho, he is very low key about like. Everything-

Harvey

• Wouldn't try to distract you from your farming or anything

• Knows how important your job is

• Would however distract you from menial activities like reading or watching TV if you haven't given him enough attention that day

• Would start cooking

• Like something he knows you really like, but also smells so it would get your attention

• Also plays music. Like some early 2000s girly pop music. He loves that stuff but doesn't play it often because he thinks it's embarrassing he likes it (it isn't I love that shit)

• But yeah that grabs your attention from whatever you were doing

Shane

• Starts bringing the chickens outside of the coup!

• Knows you think they are cute

• And he knows you think he is cute when he is taking care of the animals

• Plus it's also practical for him to do animal stuff so you can farm

• But yeah he doesn't really want a lot of attention, just wants to see you smile for a bit!

Elliott

He just wanted to see your face stick around for a little longer! Didn't want you to go, even when he knew you had work to do.

• Would play his piano!

• Works like a charm because he always has something new

• You wonder when he has the time to practice new pieces all the time

• You sit next to him for a bit, leaning on his shoulder

• After he finishes the song, he let's you go back to whatever you were doing.

• He got in enough time with you for now, but he would make sure to get all of your attention later

An* I had like no ideas for Harvey and Shane. Sorry if they are kinda clunky- This was mostly inspired by my ideas for Sam and Alex, but this was fun to write!! Also, these lowkey make no sense, and they weren't proofread, so just take the concepts loosely and run with it! :)

Rasmodius, aka The Wizard (by request)

I imagine that this would be when you stopped by to visit him but had to leave to go work. Like y'all weren't living together.

• Would use magic!

• A silent spell that makes little illusions around the room.

• He is a little shy, so like Sebastian or Harvey, he wouldn't outright say anything.

• But he makes everything so pretty you can't help but stare for a while.

• The lights danced near the ceiling, a mirage of all your favorite colors

• He gets your attention for a while, and it keeps him content until he sees you again :3

Masterlist

[respectthepetty]

Dunk and Joong could have offered me anything in 2024, and I would have taken it, gladly, no questions because my ass is a Jaidee fan first and a human second. But to hand me The Heart Killers? Oh! Let me list all the reasons y'all gonna hate me when this comes out.

Joong plays Khao's older brother

Khaotung is older than Joong, but in BL Land that doesn't matter because Khao is playing the hopeless romantic little brother while Joong is playing his stern older brother. Someone already wrote it was 10 Things I Hate About You/The Taming of the Shrew, and Shakespeare would be thrilled to know one of his masterpieces is getting the queer treatment and it's not Twelfth Night.

Dunk is playing the crazy seducer

Boy wants a car and is willing to go to great lengths to do it, including distracting some dude, so his buddy can play house with that dude's little brother. But the whole point is they had to find a guy who was crazy enough to accept the offer in the first place >insert Dunk's character< so the guy isn't just wanting the car. He is doing this for the thrill of getting tied up, stripped down, and threatened.

And I respect that.

Jojo is apparently directing

I wanna have beef with Jojo after Only Friends, then I look at his resume and remember this is the man who gave me puppy play in The Warp Effect, poly in 3 Will Be Free, and a chaotic stripper named Judo in Dirty Laundry PLUS the YinWar trailer for their Partner in Crime concert which has now lead to YinWar doing Jack & Joker, so as a vegetarian, I'm gonna be like Elsa and let that go.

Which means Rath is probably the cinematographer

I don't give men compliments easily, so when I state that Cinematographer Rath has never disappointed me, I mean it. The man knows what he is doing, and if he is in on this series, I know if anything, it will be visually stunning.

First and Khao being the Beyonce of GMMTV

I'm in Jaidee's corner always, but I have eyes and First and Khao could really do whatever they want and I'd eat it up. I have believed them with whomever they have been partnered with in the past, and if they want to play high schoolers in an oppressed school system or a banker willing to see his ex and his ex's new man just to flirt with the boy from the market, I'm buying the tickets, I'm sitting in the front row, and I'm holding up homemade posters. Basically, I'm shutting the fuck up and experiencing whatever they want me to experience.

First and Khao tears

This is its own category because when they cry, they are in a league of their own. They claimed this series was going to be lighter than their previous work, but what is a First or Khao series without tears? I hope they are drinking water right now because someone is crying in this series, and JD's faces are already wet for other reasons.

DUNK'S BODY!

Not to objectify the man's body, but . . . it's a banger, and he has been done dirty by wardrobe for two solid years. His face card never declines. His arms are solid. His waist is snatched. His hair is perfect. Even Tay, New, and Jan were talking about him in the BTS for Peaceful Property because they were saying how New's character was based off of Dunk - pretty, fashionable, and COCKY! But wouldn't we all be that cocky if we were walking around looking like this?! Like shut up fives. A ten is speaking!

It's high time that man got to stunt like Force always does just taking off his shirt for no reason. Good for him. And good for us.

Oh, yeah, and the plot

Sorry, I mean the plot.

SHIT, THE PLOT!

You know what? Nah. I honestly do not give a fuck about the plot. Joong and Khao are hired killers. First is out to get them. Dunk gets involved (although, I think he knows a lot more than he leads on), and . . .

All will end well.

Because if anything, Jojo ain't never been allergic to a happy ending *wink*

So just know this show hit its target audience

ME!

¡Salud!

[kleftiko]

❦ ON MY DESK BY MIDNIGHT

“your professor was a strict asshole and you were failing the class. the only thing to do was go to him for extra help, unfortunately, he’s not a patient man.”

cw: teacher/student relationship, age gap, spanking, unprotected sex, sir kink, hate fucking (?)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

If looks could kill, your laptop would be six feet under.

You glared at the 29% on your screen as if it would change under intimidation. If it were any other class, the right thing would be to drop, but you needed this credit for your major, and you weren't gonna let your asshole professor stand in the way of your degree. So you closed the tab and opened your email.

Hi, Professor Geto,

I just received my mark on the last test, and I did not do as well as I hoped. Is there any extra material you recommend that I study in order to get a better grade next time? Or are there any tutoring opportunities I could use?

Thank you,

Y/N

Within a couple minutes, you received a response.

Sure.

Office hours tomorrow.

Sent from my iPhone

Besides the fact that he didn't answer your questions, the complete lack of tact from this man plus the shitty grade he gave you just pissed you off, and you ended up slamming your poor laptop closed with petty rage.

God, you hated him. He was always so haughty, acting as if everything around him was boring. You've caught his dark eyes glancing over at you with a condescending smirk more times than you could count. The thought of seeking tutoring opportunities from someone like him only made your blood boil even more.

You hated his stupidly long hair and how it always framed his face and looked so soft. You hated how, when it was warm, he wore short sleeves that showed off his tattoos that you couldn't take your eyes off of. You hated how his deep, velvety voice made you shift in your seat as you imagined him whispering things in your ear.

You hated him.

And you hated thinking about him right now, so with a huff, you turned over and went to sleep.

The next day, you went to his office. Looking through the open door at him, you were reminded of your thoughts last night. He had his hair tied up, those stubborn bangs falling out effortlessly like always, and his buttoned shirt was rolled up around his forearms, a glimpse of inked skin peeking through. Professor Geto was shuffling through some papers when he looked up from his desk and met your eyes.

"You coming in?" He drawled, and you blushed slightly from being caught.

You shuffled inside and closed the door behind you before your fingers started playing with the hem of your skirt. Professor Geto stood up and placed your test on the desk.

"So you don't like your mark." He said and you shook your head. "What do you plan to do about that?"

You frowned. "I emailed you yesterday about tutoring."

"It seems like you don't listen to what I say during lectures; why would you listen now?"

"I do listen to you! Maybe you just suck at teaching."

"Maybe you're a shit student." He retaliated, and all thoughts of his attractiveness went out the window.

You started seething. "I'm there for every lecture!"

"Then maybe if you didn't eye-fuck the boys in class and actually paid attention, you'd have passed."

Your eyebrows shot up to the sky as you seethed, "Excuse me?"

But he just blinked at you.

"Why does it matter if I'm eye-fucking someone?" You blurted.

"It gets a little distracting in class when my students keep talking about who you blew on the weekend instead of working." His sharp gaze cut you down, and you felt bare. But you didn't back out of the challenge.

"Oh, so you're just upset 'cause you're a 35-year-old virgin who can't get any." You surmised, and he smirked.

"Yea? And why are your panties soaked every class?" He took a step forward and towered over you, leaning down slightly and lowering his voice. "Next time you spread your legs under the desk, I like the lacey white ones you wear."

The heat in your face felt like a wildfire, but you refused to let him see your vulnerability. "Who says it's you that gets me wet?" You retorted, standing your ground.

But with one more step toward you, your knees nearly buckled. Almost chest-to-chest with the man, he trailed his fingers up your arm, leaving goosebumps along your skin, before dipping under your skirt. You shuddered at his cool hands, frozen in place as he curled two fingers along your pussy. It took all your strength not to moan at the simple touch.

Retracting his grip, he lifted up his hand in front of the two of you and admired the slick covering his fingers. As he spread them, your stringy juice connected each digit, proof of the lewd thoughts you have for your professor. But then he brings them to your mouth, and you don't know why, but you habitually open your lips and suck your fluid from his fingertips, not breaking eye contact with the man.

"You expect me to believe that wasn't meant for me?" He spoke in a dangerously low voice that caused you to whimper softly around his fingers.

Geto smiled—a sight you had never seen before but could tell was downright sadistic. His eyes gleamed with a mix of satisfaction and power as he watched your submissive reaction. It was clear that he enjoyed having this control over you, relishing in the knowledge that he could make you succumb to his desires without question.

Then he turned away from you, taking back his fingers and casually wiping them on his pressed shirt as he looked down at the graded test. You were confused.

"So, you're not happy with the mark." He repeated. You could sense a hint of amusement in his voice, as if he found your disappointment entertaining. It was evident that he took pleasure in exerting his dominance over you. As he continued to speak, his condescending tone only further emphasized his sadistic nature. "Why don't we go through it?"

After a couple of dumbfounded blinks, wondering if what just transpired actually took place, you nodded and stepped towards the desk.

Your professor moved away for a second before appearing behind you and holding out a pencil. Not knowing what was going on, you took the utensil from his grasp, feeling the rough skin of his fingers—the same ones that were just in your mouth. You looked down at the test.

"First question..." You trailed off as his large hand came to rest on your ass. You froze for a second at the touch, but then he pulled away and landed a harsh smack against you.

You yelped and looked up at him with wide eyes.

The condescending gaze was back. "Did I tell you to stop?"

Your heart raced as confusion and arousal washed over you. The shock of his actions made it difficult to comprehend what was happening, but the slight stinging sensation on your ass had you bowing your head back to the paper.

"No," you said.

"No, what?"

"No, Sir." You corrected, and he hummed softly, his hand coming back to massage under your skirt.

You continued reading the question, trying not to falter at the reminder of his touch. But when you began your answer, his hand drew back and landed another harsh spank.

You gripped the desk in front of you.

"Wrong." Was all he said.

You whimpered but tried again.

Another slap.

"Sir..." You whined.

"Keep going."

You wiggled under his touch, your legs pushing together for a fraction of friction where you really needed it. Taking your time, you slowly worked through the answer, voice trembling at each graze of his rough fingers toying with the edge of your panties. When you finished, his hand dipped under the fabric and rubbed your clit, causing you to buckle under him.

His other arm came around to hold you up, pressing your body back into his sturdy chest as he chuckled darkly.

"Good girl," he mumbled. "Next."

"Sir, please..." You didn't know what you were asking for, but the lewd sound of his fingers against your soaked lips and the pleasure that came from them had your mind fuzzy.

"Are you already fucked dumb?" He asked rhetorically. "Haven't even taken out my dick yet."

At that, you whined and pushed yourself back against him, feeling his hard cock through his dress pants. He let out a hiss at the sensation, letting go of you in favour of undoing his buckle. As your arms fell on the desk in front of you to hold up your body, you couldn't help but anticipate the impending release of pleasure that awaited you. The air in the room grew thick with desire as he finally freed himself from his pants, and you could feel your own arousal burning with each passing second.

Geto didn't warn you when he entered. The sudden intrusion of his hard length inside you took your breath away, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. The intensity of the moment overwhelmed you, heightening the pleasure and leaving you craving more.

He wasn't gentle with you, treating you like a vessel for his own pleasure, but your wanton moans told him you liked it just as much as him.

"Do the little boys in the class fuck you like this?" He grunted, and you shook your head defiantly.

You bit your lip, trying to regain some confidence as you said, "T-they do it better."

"Oh?" He hummed and pulled out.

Your professor slipped out of you, grabbed your hips, and flipped you over. He pushed you back onto the desk, laid you down atop all the messy paperwork—including your forgotten test—and pushed your legs into your chest before you thrust inside again.

You let out a moan at the newfound spot he could reach, and Geto slapped a hand over your mouth.

"You want everyone to know this 35-year-old virgin is fucking you?" He mocked your inability to speak.

Every glide and thrust of his hips against yours sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout your entire being. The rhythm between you two was intoxicating—a perfect dance of lust and appetite. With each movement, you found yourself surrendering completely to the overwhelming pleasure, losing yourself in the euphoria of the moment.

"God, how are you so fucking tight?" He groaned, his voice filled with a mix of desire and disbelief. The intensity of the sensations overwhelmed you, making it hard to form coherent words. You could only moan in response, your body responding to his every touch and movement. Then he brought his thumb roughly against your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. The pleasure intensified, causing your breath to hitch and your heart to race even faster. Every nerve ending in your body felt alive, consumed by the sting of ecstasy that seemed to have no end in sight.

"You like being used like this?" He asked. "Seems to be the only thing you're good at."

As the words left his lips, a mix of desire and humiliation washed over you. The intensity of the moment heightened, and your mind raced with conflicting emotions, torn between the raw pleasure coursing through your veins and the sting of his degrading words. It was a twisted dance of dominance and submission, leaving you yearning for more while questioning your own desires.

But as your orgasm washed over you, your mind was filled with nothing but pleasure, and your professor's cock was still buried deep inside you, pulsating with each wave of pleasure that rippled through your body. The illicit nature of the encounter only fueled your desire further as you surrendered completely to the intoxicating sensations for just a moment. As you lay there, spent and breathless, a newfound sense of liberation washed over you, leaving you craving more of the man in front of you.

He pulled out of you.

Your eyes widened with confusion and disappointment as you watched him retreat, leaving you feeling empty and unsatisfied. The sudden absence of his presence left a void within you, aching for his touch once again. So when he sat in his chair and motioned you back to him with a single curl of his finger, you willed your aching legs to carry you into his lap.

As you settled atop him, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. The intensity of his gaze and the heat radiating from his body reignited the desire that had momentarily been extinguished. You lined yourself up with his cock and slowly ground yourself onto it.

His hands stilled against you when you tried to bounce, however, and kept you trapped against him as he looked down at you.

"You do this to all your professors?" He asked, and you shook your head violently.

"Only you, sir." Your once-confident voice was now soft and laced with lust, and you let out a soft moan as you felt his dick twitch within you at the mention of his name. "You like when I call you 'Sir'?

His glare darkened, hips thrusting up harshly to elicit a yelp from you.

"You like when I make you cum on my cock?" He retaliated, and you bit your tongue. "Make me cum, and I'll give you a passing grade."

At the proposition, a mix of excitement and hesitation washed over you. The power dynamic between you and your professor was intoxicating, but the thought of trading sexual favours for academic success was never something you thought you'd do. However, the allure of achieving a passing grade in his class was hard to resist, and the thought of making this man you despise come undone was too good to pass up.

You leaned in, nipped his ear, and, in your most sultry voice, said, "Anything you want, sir.”

As those words left your lips, a rush of adrenaline coursed through your veins. The line between right and wrong blurred in that moment, and when you lifted your hips, only to fall straight down on his aching cock, you felt nothing but pride.

The intensity of the moment consumed you as you revelled in the power you took back. As the pleasure intensified, a sense of satisfaction washed over you, fueling your desire to get what you want. You bounced on top of him, riding the wave of control and dominance. Every movement was deliberate, and every moan he uttered was a testament to your newfound liberation. With each thrust, you could feel the balance of power shifting in your favour, solidifying your position as the one in charge. The exhilaration of getting what you desired fueled your confidence, leaving you hungry for more.

When his grip on your sides tightened and his eyes screwed shut in pleasure, you revelled in the satisfaction of knowing that you had brought him to this point. As Geto reached the peak of ecstasy, a sense of fulfillment washed over you, knowing you had finally made this man crumble.

You jumped off his lap, making his cum squirt into the air, only to fall and soil his pants. The pathetic stature of the man in front of you, coming down from his high, made you grin, eyes flashing to his glaring ones.

Wordlessly, you grabbed your crumpled test and pushed it in front of him, smirking down at the soiled man.

[letmerideitchris]

𝒯𝒽ℯ ℛℴℴ𝓉𝓈 ℴ𝒻 𝒪𝓊𝓇 ℒℴ𝓋ℯ ⚘

part 2

“Oh my god it’s matt” 

“he's so hot” 

“Can you believe he's single?”

Matt Sturniolo is the most popular and hottest guy in school and practically has girls falling at his feet. He is your typical popular guy, plays lacrosse, has lots of friends and looks really good. 

y/n is the complete opposite, although she is pretty and hardworking, no one seems to pay attention to her at all. She always shows up to school half an hour early, eats her lunch in the classroom and finishes all her assignments the quickest, she enjoys her solitude. Although from the outside Matt and y/n are different, at heart they are quite similar. Matt does enjoy his own time away from all the noise at school and he does do quite well academically. Although recently he’s been swapping his tests with his not so smart triplet brother; Chris, so he doesn’t seem like a nerd, but no one needs to know that. 

It all started at 8:am at Boston high school “yo Matt what’s good” his friends say as he daps up all the boys up whilst entering the school. y/n was already in their classroom with her nose in her new book from her local library. She gets distracted by the sound of everyone greeting Matt and gets up to look out the glass window of the classroom door. There he is, Matt Sturniolo, the only man you've ever had your eyes on since freshman year. You’re watching him approach his locker, looking at him laughing with several of his friends, but the only one you’re looking at is Matt. You’re about to turn back to your book but you see out the corner of your eye him glance into the classroom you quickly try and play off the fact that you were staring at him by adjusting your glasses on the bridge of your nose and you awkwardly sit back down. 

The bell sounds in the hallways, and everyone walks to their respective classrooms including Matt, which just so happens to be her classroom for history. She quickly fixes her hair and continues to read her book as if she wasn’t watching him walk towards the classroom. The sound of the door opening distracts her from the words in her book as she sees Matt walk in the room in the corner of her eye. It's just you and Matt in the classroom now and you can see him walking towards you. “Is that to kill a mockingbird by harper lee?” Matt says as he breaks the comfortable silence. Your heart is racing and suddenly you feel your palms start to sweat, you clear your throat “uh yeah it is... have you read it before?” 

“well not exactly...” he laughs “I just looked at the front cover when you were reading it...” Matt slightly lowers his head and smiles whilst approaching the desk next to her. “oh haha.. You really should read it, it's quite interesting....” your voice fades out quietly realizing you're talking to Matt Sturniolo, not someone in your book club. 

“I'm not really the reading type of guy, and plus, i uh don’t have a library membership…” Matt says sliding his bag off his shoulder and throws under his desk “oh yeah, right” you say whilst placing the bookmark onto your page. 

“you’re all dismissed, and don’t forget your paragraph on British Settlement is due in tomorrow's lesson.” Matt gets up from his seat and packs up his books. Whilst you're still seated, working up the confidence to say something to him. He pushes in his chair and starts to walk off. 

“Hey,Matt” he turns back around briefly smiling, “you can always uhm... borrow my book, I don't think you’re going to be getting a library membership any time soon” you say with a shy smirk.  He scoffs “you know what, I might just do that, because uhm... My mom has been trying to get me to read a book for a while now” He lies through his teeth “thanks uhh, y/n, right?”. You can feel your cheeks burning up at your name coming out of his mouth, sounding as smooth as honey. “yeah..” you both stop to look at each other, you break the silence “uh yeah heres the book, don't rush to get it back to me... Theres plenty more copies at the library.” you say handing him your book. “Thanks, I'll see you tomorrow y/n”. 

After school, you’re texting your best friend Taylor nonstop about everything that happened in history today whilst she was at home sick;  

credits to @bernardsbendystraws for the dividers!

[trippinsorrows]

10 things + r. reigns

authors note: so, a lot of this stems from convos with the lovely @fearlesschimera where one tree hill was brought up. and i loved me some nathan and haley. plus, i'm loving everything about this otc era and needed to write something about it now vs having to wait with my other stories cause we ain't there yet lmao

might be a part two. idk if this even makes sense tbh

words: 3.1k

warnings: none, really? some language? kayfabe story.

There are exactly two sides to Roman Reigns.

The good side and the bad side. 

And Nova Reigns has experienced them both with an unfortunate increase in the latter versus the former. 

She can pinpoint exactly when it started, too. 

When things started to get difficult again.

2020. COVID. While the world was an absolute mess, chaos and death occurring globally every day, her husband of over ten years wasn’t much better. He’d decided to stay home, not wanting to risk bringing home anything that could put her pregnancy with their first daughter, Arabella, Bella as they affectionately called her, at risk. 

It was also so he could figure out just what the hell he was doing with his career. Roman was frustrated. Tired of going along with what was always told of him instead of doing it his way. And it’s why when he returned back to work that summer, he came back a completely changed man. Bigger, stronger, meaner.

This was a different Roman Reigns. The likes of which the WWE had never seen.

And it’s been a ride ever since.

Up and downs along the way. 

A lot of ups up until WrestleMania 40 where after 1,316 days as the undisputed universal champion and unable to let go of a betrayal from so many years ago, Roman lost. He lost his title and something so much deeper that night.

His sense of self.

Nova did the best she could in the months he’d been off to keep his spirits lifted, to support him, often encouraging Bella to ask her dad to do stuff with her even when Nova technically could. Asked him to care for their two year old daughter, Camillia, Cami, as she worked from home, something she’s done for almost the entirety of her post college career. 

But most importantly, Nova worked to help Roman repair the relationship with their oldest son, Roman Jr., RJ, as they’ve called him since the day he was born.

To say the relationship is awful would be an exaggeration. No, it’s just…..fragile.

A fragility that Nova has tried so hard over the past couple of years to strengthen to no avail. A large part of the issue being the fact that her twenty year old son is just as stubborn as his father. Twins, she often calls them. Similar heights, build, personalities, etc. 

Great when they want to be. A pain in the ass when they don’t need to be.

A painful situation all around though, especially when she thinks back to how this all started, to how someone like Nova ended up with someone like Roman.

And it’s a simple answer, really.

He was an idiot.

Well, when it came to English, that was.

Once upon a time ago, Roman wasn’t the massive WWE superstar that he is now. He was just Roman Reigns. The typical, popular jock of their high school. A football player with the stereotypical ego to match. And she was just Nova, the geeky underclassmen who always had a secret crush on the boy she never thought in a million years would look her way.

And truth be told, if not for the fact his coach threatened to bench him if he didn’t raise his English grade, he probably never would have. Hell, she’s certain the only reason he knew she existed was because she was the best and smartest kid in class, so of course their teacher would recommend her for a tutor. 

The answer was initially no. Not necessarily because she was opposed, but more because her crush on him was too big to not get distracted. Even though his jerkish tendencies should have done just that. 

But Roman has always been charismatic and persistent, and before she knew it, she’d agreed. And that agreement changed everything because it showed her for the first time the nice side of Roman, the side that secretly loved music and was surprisingly good at math. The side that struggled with feeling like he’d never be good enough or live up to his family’s athletic reputation both in football and wrestling.

It made her realize and see that Roman was just as human as everyone else. 

It made her fall in love with him.

And that was rocky, too. Navigating his constant struggle of wanting to admit his feelings for her while also being embarrassed about her and wanting to hide their relationship. It created a fair set of conflict, and Nova shed her fair share of tears.

Especially as she sat on the floor of her bathroom, plush, purple rug cushioning her bottom but not the blow that was the two lines on the pregnancy test in her hands. But, seven months later, with her mom on one side and Roman on the other, she shed a different set of tears. Different kinds of tears.

Happiness.

Happiness at welcoming her first child into the world, Roman Reigns Jr. 

RJ

Being teen parents, especially at the tender ages of 16 and 18 was most definitely nothing like it was depicted on the reality shows. It was rough, especially as Roman started college, opting to stay local to help her raise their child as she finished her senior year. They fought, they argued, they disagreed, but at the end of the day, they still loved.

And it was that love that carried them through the rocky years of Roman trying to figure out just what he wanted to do with his life as Nova worked a job and raised their son while pursuing her degree in software engineering. She also stayed local to benefit from the help of her family while chasing her dream. It was rough, it was hard, but they did it.

Even with having to be on food stamps and financial assistance at times to take care of their child, Nova struggling to enter the male dominated workforce of tech and Roman not always having consistent income, they did it. 

And they were happy.

They still are. Just….not like it used to be. 

Nova still loves her husband with all of her heart and soul. They’ve been through too much together for her to ever really leave him, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t cross her mind from time to time. Especially over the past four years, watching him almost revert back to that bully from high school as he manipulated and mentally abused his family, his cousins, his lifetime best friends so much so that the Bloodline he worked so hard to create crumbled right before him.

And it’s only deteriorated since he lost the title to Cody Rhodes. Solo had turned on Roman, brutally kicked Jimmy out of the Bloodline and invited in non-family. Week after week, taking shot after shot at her husband, his cousin, his flesh and blood. 

Going so far as to take the sacred ula fala and declare himself the tribal chief. An honor that was bestowed upon Roman by the elders of his family. It finally reached a point where Roman had enough, making his grand return at SummerSlam and preventing his once enforcer from taking the very title Roman still believes is rightfully is. 

He’s made intermittent returns since then, each one proving just why Roman Reigns is being considered one of the greatest of all time, even while still in the middle of his career. His aura is unmatched. The sales don’t lie. The numbers don’t lie. 

The OTC is WWE. 

But, Roman has been a bit on edge since he was unexpectedly jumped by his other cousin, Jacob, Solo’s latest dangerous addition to the Bloodline.

Nova especially knows he was even more pissed because she’d taken the girls to his show that night, at his request.

He hates looking ‘weak’ in front of him, despite the fact that both were too consumed in kids' devices to pay attention. But, she was. And if anything, it was hard for her to see him be attacked like that, all alone. 

No one in his corner.

Jey’s moved to Raw.

Jimmy is still trying to figure out if he even wants to come back.

Solo has lost his damn mind. 

Sami…..no comment.

And Paul is still recovering from his brutal assault by the new Bloodline. 

The island of relevancy has a population of one. And while that one is formidable as all outdoors, he’s still just a man.

Granted, as much as it pains her to see Roman go at this alone, it’s hard for her to feel all the way bad for him. He did this. His actions drove his family away. 

Well, not all of them.

“Game!” Bella’s soft voice pulls Nova from reflecting on memory lane as she redirects her attention to where her son sits on the sofa in Roman’s locker room, Cami on his lap, grabbing his phone.

RJ chuckles, unlocking the iPhone and asking, “what you wanna play?”

Cami gasps and claps her hands. “Cookie!”

“Cookie Kingdom?” RJ asks, clicking around on his phone and handing it to her. “There ya go, lil’ bit.”

Nova’s smile is warm as she reflects on what feels like so long ago. “I remember when you were that little.”

RJ looks up at her, and it never ceases to amaze her how much he looks like his father. Complexion a little deeper, melanin he inherited from her, but outside of that, Roman could never deny paternity. 

He sucks his teeth. “Mama, don’t start that.”

“What?” Nova pouts, leaning back into the sofa, Bella tuned out of the conversation as she watches Bluey on her tablet. It’s always a bit funny to her how uninterested these kids just are when it comes to seeing Roman at work.

At least, not until he’s actually in their line of vision.

“You’ll always be my baby.” Because he will. Twenty and over 6ft tall or not, he’s her baby boy. “And speaking of baby, what’s going on with you and that girl you been dating?”

RJ rolls his eyes and adjusts Cami on his lap. He’s so good with his little sisters. “Nothing.”

Nova smirks knowingly, picking up on the faint hit of redness on his cheeks. “Sure don’t seem like nothing.”

“Mama, she’s just a friend.”

“So ya’ll aren’t sexually active?”

RJ turns up his nose, clearly disgusted. “Ma, how you just gon’ ask me that?”

“Because I’m your mama and not ready to be a grandma, and your daddy would kill you if you were to get a girl pregnant halfway through college.”

It’s not missed upon Nova how the mention of Roman seems to completely dampen his mood. RJ rolls his eyes. “Like he cares at all.”

His comment hurts her. Deeply. “RJ….”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to upset you.”

She ignores that apology, wanting to focus on the initial comment that has her stomach knotting for all the wrong reasons. “Your dad loves you, Junior. You have to know that.”

There’s a slight delay in his answer, and that alone is enough to make Nova know she needs to talk to Roman again tonight about actually talking with his son. A below the surface level conversation. A heart to heart.

“I know that, mama. I do. It’s just….” RJ blows out a breath and shakes his head. “You know how he is.”

She does. Very well. “You can say it. He’s an ass sometimes.” She’s so grateful for the headphones on Bella’s ears and the deep infatuation Cami has with her brother’s phone.

“You said it. Not me.” Mother and son share a laugh, RJ admitting, “I know he means well.”

“He does,” she agrees. “But, that doesn’t mean he can’t do better. I’ll talk to him again.”

RJ immediately looks like he feels bad, which only makes Nova’s chest ache more. “You don’t have to—”

She lifts her finger to silence him. “You’re my son. He’s my husband. I love you both, and it kills me to see ya’ll like this. I’m gonna do what I can.” And that’s a vow. The three of them have been through too much shit over the years for her to just allow the relationship between the two most important men to fall apart. She won’t let that happen. 

She can’t.

And speaking of, the door to Roman’s locker room opens, her husband walking in looking every bit as strong, powerful, and determined as he looked when he interfered yet again with Solo’s match and especially as he closed the door of that cage and challenged Jacob. 

Nova shifts in her seat, the memory bringing up other kinds of feelings which are entirely inappropriate given the presence of her children.

Cami is the first girl to notice him, lifting up her little arms and reaching for him, nearly dropping RJ’s phone in the process if not for his quick reflexes.

He most definitely got that from Roman as well, because Nova has not an athletic bone in her body.

Roman walks over and takes her from RJ, kissing her cheek, gaze almost reluctantly falling on RJ. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Nova starts to scold Roman for such a cold introduction to their son they haven’t seen since he left for his sophomore year of college over a month ago. “Mom asked me to.”

She’s good at reading between the lines, picking up on the fact that he’s essentially saying he’s only here because of Nova.

Not Roman.

Roman notices this, she’s sure. He’s a perceptive bastard. But, he says nothing. “How’s school?”

“Fine.” 

“RJ.” And her son can be a petty bastard. Like father, like son. She directs her statement to Roman, “I was thinking we could go to his game tomorrow—”

RJ, however, is quick to dismiss this. “You don’t have to.”

Nova’s gaze on Roman allows her to see the hurt that flashes in his eyes at the rejection. But as has been the case lately, he pushes it aside, replacing it with indifference. “You heard what he said. He doesn’t want us there, so we wo—”

“That’s not what I said.” RJ leans back against the chair and shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head, clearly frustrated. “You always do this. Always hear what you want to hear.” He scoffs, head turned, muttering, “I see why everybody left you.”

Nova gasps. “RJ!” She sees it, the hurt that’s just tripled and is about to be expressed in anger, leading to another big blowout between the two of them. Thankfully, this is the moment Bella finally becomes aware of Roman’s presence.

“Daddy!” She pulls off her headphones, climbs off the sofa and runs over to him, hugging his legs. 

Roman doesn’t hesitate to pick her up, both daughters in his arms as Nova leans over, running her hand through her fresh silk press. This. This is what she wanted to avoid. These are the kinds of situations that leave her in tears as she vents to her therapist about her ever growing stress levels, how torn she feels in what to do in moments like this. 

Roman is her husband, but RJ is her son. Neither is fully right, but neither is fully wrong either. How does one handle that?

Thankfully, it’s not long after that Roman is being called to prepare to get back out in the ring. This means a probably needed separation from the two titans in her life. Nova holds Cami this time, while Bella hangs onto RJ as they’re escorted ringside. 

It takes a bit of persuasion to get RJ to agree to come with her. She can see he’s ready to just leave.

But, reminding him of how big a help he is with the girls seems to win him over because while he’s certainly not in the best of places with his dad, RJ is a mama’s boy through and through. He loves him some Nova and would do anything to help her. 

Even if it means helping her with the two siblings that came as a complete shock to him.

It still makes Nova laugh a little as she recalls the horrified and almost disgusted expression on his face as she and Roman broke the pregnancy news to him.

“I didn’t even know ya’ll still did that.” And if his statement wasn’t bad enough, he just had to add insult to injury as the blunt almost 16 year-old he was at the time. “Ain’t ya’ll kinda old to still be freaking?”

No. 

Never that.

“Daddy!” This time it’s Cami who’s calling out to Roman, recognizing his new music before he even emerges from the back looking as badass as he always does. Nova is temporarily in a state of awe, overhearing Bella asking RJ to hold her so she can see better. 

Roman has come so far, done so well for himself, even with things with his family being a hot ass mess, there’s still no denying he is it. That he has it. It’s undeniable. She almost feels bad for Cody.

He’ll always be stuck in Roman’s shadow. 

The thought makes her suddenly curious about what could be one of the reasons behind the strife between her firstborn and husband. Nova tucks this in the back of her mind, planning to discuss it further in therapy.

As Roman moves into the ring, Nova stands on the sidelines, holding her baby girl on her hip, smiling back and forth between the two. She watches Roman move around the ring on their commercial break

And when his gaze falls on the set of them, her heart swells as he mouths ‘I love you’ before seamlessly transitioning back into that hardened, determined expression.

And this is why there’s two sides to Roman Reigns. The good side being the one that she sees in that brief, vulnerable exchange. The one that used to kiss her pregnant stomach as he confided in her his fears about not being a good dad, about feeling not ready, about worrying about failing in life. 

Failing her. 

Failing himself.

Failing their child.

The man who worked so hard and gave everything his all to prove he was someone, becoming that someone, yet somehow losing something in the process.

Nova knows it’s still in there though, knows that he is still the boy he fell in love with many moons ago. She knows that as frustrated as he makes her, as cold he can be, as disconnected he can seem, that love is still there and just as strong. 

And she’ll fight for it. 

For him. 

For their son.

For their family. 

She has to.

[cupids-diner]

hey! so I'm kind of obsessed with your writing ☠️ it's all soooo good, i was wondering if you could do a fic where the reader is a ballerina? (I'm also obsessed with your moodboard because I did ballet when I was a kid 😭) with Damian Wayne plsss, because I just LOVED how you write him nd I thought it would be cute.

Beneath the ballet’s shadow - Damian Wayne

A/n: I love getting requests for Damian and generally any of my favorite characters from shows/movies. Especially when I get to write for specific types of readers (ex: ballerina!reader) because I like looking up stuff to include in the story! I’ve also noticed how my formatting of my stories change with the stories, like there is some consistency but not a lot, Y’know?

Warnings: none

Rating: fluff

Damian Wayne wasn’t one for distractions. His life had been built on discipline, precision, and a resolve far beyond his years. Yet, for reasons he couldn’t quite pinpoint, he found himself regularly at Gotham City Ballet, watching you.

It had started innocently enough. He had accompanied you once, claiming he needed to ensure your safety as you walked through the dark streets of Gotham. But after that first time, something kept pulling him back. Maybe it was the grace in your movements, the way you seemed to defy gravity with every leap and pirouette, or perhaps it was the quiet contentment he felt in your presence, a rare feeling for someone like him.

You’d catch him sometimes, leaning against the doorframe of the practice room, arms crossed, expression unreadable. “You know, you don’t have to keep coming,” you’d tease, wiping the sweat from your brow.

“I’m simply ensuring you’re not slacking in your training,” he’d reply, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. But in truth, he admired your dedication, your focus—traits he valued in himself.

One day, after practice, you sat beside him on the worn wooden bench outside the studio. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the city, softening the harsh lines of the buildings. Damian was unusually quiet, even for him, staring out at the horizon as if deep in thought.

“You know,” you started, breaking the silence, “I appreciate you being here. It means a lot.”

He glanced at you, his sharp green eyes softening just a fraction. “It’s nothing,” he replied, but the words felt heavier than usual.

“No, it’s not nothing,” you insisted, a gentle smile on your lips. “You’re always here, watching. It’s like you care or something.”

Damian felt his heart skip—a rare, unfamiliar sensation. But he maintained his stoic demeanor, merely raising an eyebrow. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he muttered, but you could see the faintest hint of a blush creeping up his neck.

You laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. “Okay, okay, tough guy. But seriously, I’m glad we’re friends.”

Friends. The word hung in the air between you. Damian had never had many of those, never allowed himself the luxury. Yet, with you, it felt different. There was no pressure, no expectations. Just… peace. He didn’t need to say anything more; you seemed to understand him without words.

As you leaned back on the bench, your shoulder brushing against his, Damian felt an odd warmth settle in his chest. He wasn’t sure what it meant, or why it felt so significant. But for now, he let it be, content to simply sit beside you, watching the sun dip below the skyline, the weight of the world momentarily lifting from his shoulders.

In that moment, he didn’t need to be the son of Batman, the heir to the League of Assassins. He was just Damian, a boy quietly, contentedly falling for his best friend. And that, he decided, was enough.

A/n: does anyone know where I can watch more Batman/batfam movies/slash shows? I have Netflix, Hulu, and Disney plus and like miscellaneous apps to watch movies on but they’re almost always unavailable on those platforms. I plan on creating like a schedule for when I post because I go back to school soon, I was supposed to go back yesterday but my mom forgot to register me so.

[kingsoowolves]

birthday boy | h.sh

pairing: idol boyfriend!seunghan x fem!reader

word count: 3.3k

author's note: idk if any of you know it, but Seunghan is actually my first bias in riize. since his hiatus, i miss him so much and each day that passes without his presence in the group, i want him to come back even more. i know there's a bunch of ot6 briizes and i honestly don't really care who everyone chooses to stan. we're all different and have different tastes and likings, i get it. but i'm still holding out hope for him to comeback and that feeling won't die down untill i see his beautiful smile while he's on a stage along with his members again. this work is to showcase my love for him, nothing else. and also for all the ot7 briizes and hongjjangus that miss him just as much as me. i hope you like it, babes 🐈‍⬛🫧🧡

contents: established relationship, aged up!seunghan. mentions of riize members. set in the future, on seunghan's 25th birthday. he is active in the group and riize has been in the scene for a few years. smut and fluff. seunghan wants to have his cake and eat it too, lol. fingering, sex in the shower. sex without protection, cumming inside (don't be like them).

you can also read this work on my ao3, if you’d like

Seunghan is needy and dramatic towards you on a daily basis. But on his birthday, it always gets worse.

He ends every request with a “Please? It’s my birthday”, pulls you to sit on his lap every chance he gets and asks for smooches and attention each half an hour that passes by. It’s adorable and charming, and you always find yourself a willing victim to his whims, kissing and hugging him whenever he desires.

However, in times like this, when you’re rushing to get everything done for the small dinner party you’re hosting for his 25th birthday, it does annoy you a little bit. You’re already preoccupied about failing this day for him because the cake wasn’t yet delivered by the bakery and you only remembered to put the wine inside the freezer twenty minutes ago. At least, there’s still forty minutes left until the time you set for his members to show up and you hope that the wine is cold by then and the cake is inside your fridge.

You’re thinking about all of this while you’re finishing setting the fancy cutlery on the table. Seunghan should be checking on the lasagna inside the oven, but instead he catches you midway through your task, rubbing his chest on your back and his hands on your hips as he starts to place kisses on the side of your neck.

“Babe, the lasagna,” you warn.

“I just checked it. It’s still cooking,” he whispers over the wetness his spit gathered on your skin, making you shiver. He runs his nose from the side of your throat to your ear. “You smell so freaking good.”

“No, I don’t,” you say, closing your eyes, letting your body sag a little against his and reaching a hand back to his neck, keeping his face still on your neck while he resumes peppering kisses on your skin. “I still haven’t showered.”

“You always smell good for me, baby,” he says before nipping your earlobe. You can’t help but sigh from the attention he’s giving you. “And I can help you shower.”

His obvious naughty intentions make you open your eyes and spin around, your hands going to his chest to push him slightly away from you.

“No way,” you shake your head. “I know you’ll be distracting me and not helping at all. Plus, you’re already ready and someone needs to answer the delivery truck when they bring the cake.”

Seunghan gives you his best puppy look and steps closer to you again, his hands going around you to encircle your waist. “Baby, please,” he whines. “We spent the whole day organizing this place. I haven’t been able to fuck you yet and it’s my birthday.”

You chuckle and look up at him, resting your chin on his chest and squeezing his cheeks. “Well, you should’ve thought about that before hosting a dinner party at our place, birthday boy.”

He whines again, pressing his forehead on yours whilst his agile fingers start bunching up the skirt of your old saggy dress, one hand pressing on the underside of your left thigh as if he’s preparing to lift you over the table. “I could just slide right in like this. I promise I’ll be quick.”

“No, Seunghan,” you say, voice firm and serious. He gives you a defeated look and steps back, his hands dropping to his sides. “I’m sorry, baby. But we’re already late as it is. We can do all the shenanigans you want later, okay?”

You get on your tiptoes and press your hands on his shoulders to drop a quick peck to his lips, but Seunghan holds you there, his fingers closing on the back of your neck to turn the kiss into a heated one. You wrap your hands around his neck to give him a little taste of what he’s been craving, letting him kiss you the way he wants, his tongue licking up every crevice of your mouth. When he pulls back, you have to blink your eyes open to wake up your hazy mind.

“Okay,” he whispers, a sly smile playing on the corner of his lips as he watches the reaction only one really good kiss pulled out of you. “Go get ready.”

You gulp and nod your head. “Finish setting the table up for me, please? And don’t forget about the lasagna, too. Oh, and–”

“And the cake should be delivered any minute,” he completes for you. “I know, baby, I know. Now go get yourself prettier for my day.”

You nod again, giving him one last peck on his lips and finally turning around. Seunghan takes the moment to pat your butt lightly and you laugh back at him while you walk to your bedroom. After getting to the en suite bathroom, you turn the water to the temperature you like and hastily slip out of your clothes. You sigh when you step into the shower and the warm water hits your head and shoulders, massaging the knots on the back of your neck.

After you shampoo your hair and begin to cover yourself in soap, you hear the door to the bathroom open up and spin around to see Seunghan a few meters away from the glass enclosure separating you both, his fingers quickly removing his denim jacket and tugging his black t-shirt up.

“Seunghan, no!” You exclaim, watching him slide the shirt out of his body and dropping it on the floor along with your clothes. “I told you, I–”

“Babe, I already turned off the oven and put the lasagna to rest on the counter. I also texted the guys saying they should come an hour later,” he explains, moving his hands to his belt buckle to unfasten it and then zipping down the fly on his pants. “Wonbin hyung agreed to pick up the cake. Already let the bakery know it, too.”

You open your mouth at him in shock and your pink sponge falls from your hand onto the shower tiles. “No, you didn’t.”

“Oh, but I did.” Seunghan laughs at you and resumes taking his jeans off, his briefs going sliding down his legs along with it. He steps out of the fabric and his semi-hard cock springs free, the head of it slapping along his thigh. You bite your bottom lip whilst he slides the shower door open just enough for you to see him in all his glory, perfect body exposed bare right in front of your eyes. “So what it’s gonna be, baby? Are we going to fuck or do you prefer to keep pretending you don’t want this as much as I do?”

“Come in,” you say through gritted teeth and he laughs again, stepping inside and sliding the glass door back on its place. You wind your arms around his shoulders and press yourself against him. “You’re a pain in my ass, Hong Seunghan. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, and you love me,” he mutters while he holds you, splaying both of his hands on your ass.

“Unfortunately, I do,” you whisper back, pulling him in for a kiss.

Seunghan’s lips have always been addictive to you. You love how full and beautiful they are, how his smiles come easily when he quirks the sides of them up just a bit and especially how soft and moist they become while he’s kissing you. You always get lost in the feeling, biting on his bottom lip and drawing pretty sounds out of him. You’re so lost in him at this moment that you don’t even notice how his hands snake down your body, gripping on your flesh until his fingers find the place in between your legs.

He spreads you open with his fingers and you moan, your lips disconnecting with his. He laughs darkly as his forefinger rubs on your clit and you hold onto his shoulders for stability.

“You tried to deny me like that but yet you get this wet from just a few kisses?” He says while he watches your face contorting in pleasure.

“I was trying to be responsible,” you reply, trying to keep your moaning to a minimum while it’s still so early in the game. “Instead of you, who only thinks with your dick.”

Seunghan smiles, fingers massaging over your hole and trying to coax louder moans out of you. “That’s just your effect on me, sweetheart. I can’t help it.”

“I don’t know about that. Maybe you’re just a horndo–” You get cut off because of course Seunghan chooses that exact moment to insert two of his fingers inside of you, making the words on your lips turn into a groan and your head loll back.

“What were you saying, baby?” He asks slyly over your exposed neck, pumping his fingers in and out of you with precision. How can he be so fucking good at this?

You gulp down the saliva that collects in your throat and scrunch your eyes while you bask in the feeling of him pleasuring you. “Nothing.”

“That’s what I thought,” he replies with a smile, moving you to press your back against the bathroom wall and reaching down to wrap a hand around one of your thighs, hooking it up around his waist. You press the arch of your foot on his ass to pull him closer to you and soon enough his dick is pressed in between your bodies and he’s rutting on your lower belly. “That’s it, such a good girl for me.”

You move your hand down to cover his pretty cock, pumping him in your fist the best you can while Seunghan distracts you by scissoring his fingers inside your cunt. You try to look down to see what you’re doing, but Seunghan’s head eclipses your visions when he starts dropping kisses on the valley of your breasts. His lips move to one of your perk nipples and you moan out loud when he sucks it into his mouth, flicking the bud with his tongue. Your pace falters on his length and he pulls your hand away from it to intertwine your fingers together, resting them on the coldness of the bathroom tiles beside your head.

“Hani, it’s your birthday,” you say, and he looks up at you with your boob still inside his mouth. “I should be the one pleasuring you.”

He releases your nipple with a pop, then sinks his teeth on the flesh of your other breast. “But you are pleasuring me, baby. Doing whatever I want with you is all I need.”

You sigh when he licks over your neglected nipple, his tongue tracing around the areola over and over again until he gets tired of it and suctions on that one, too. He keeps the unrelenting pace of his fingers inside of you and moves his thumb up your clit again to rub on it.

“But I want to do more for you,” you whisper, starting to thrust your hips up against his hand. Your head already feels dizzy and your vision starts to get hazy with how much he’s overwhelming your senses. You feel that any moment now you might snap.

Seunghan releases his nipple from your mouth t at the same moment the revolutions down your clit get faster, and you can’t stop your moans from echoing around the restroom anymore while he kisses his way up to your lips again.

“Then you can suck me off after dinner, okay?” He mutters, his natural foxy eyes glinting at you and his mouth drinking up your sounds. “You’re close, right?”

“So close, Hani,” you cry out, gripping his hand tightly on yours and tugging on his hair with your other one.

He smiles at you and presses his lips to yours two times. Then, he mutters, “Cum for me now, pretty girl.”

It’s ridiculous that that’s all it takes to get you there. But either way, your orgasm washes over you, the tingling forming in your belly spreading through your limbs and head while your walls convulse around Seunghan’s fingers. He still keeps his work in your pussy while you scream and drop your lips to bite on his neck to give you something to do.

“That’s it, my love. You look so pretty when you fall apart. I want to watch this for the rest of my life,” he whispers in your ear while you sink your teeth on his flesh.

Once there’s no energy left in your body and you’re babbling incoherently on his skin, he slides his hand up to lift your chin and press your head back on the wall. His fingers wipe the drool from the corner of your mouth and you smell your juices on them, your tongue instinctively darting out to lick at them.

“Shit, baby, you got me so hard already,” he heaves while you suck his digits into your mouth, limp hand searching for his cock again. “There’s no need for that.”

You only release his fingers from your mouth after pressing little kisses on the tips of each one, then you smile at him and wrap your hand around his dick, slapping it against your folds to share your wetness and his precum with each other. “You’re going to fuck me now, birthday boy?”

“Are you up for it already?” He asks, trying to convey worry through his little groans and expletives. “I don’t wanna do too much too soon.”

“I don’t care, you can overstimulate me all you want,” you reply back, hitting his dick on your clit to show him that you’re serious. “I just need your dick inside me, Hani.”

“Fuck yeah,” he groans at both your words and how you guide his dick to your entrance, your cunt sucking his fat head inside. “I’ll fuck you dumb, baby.”

“Be my guest,” you moan back, feeling him slide all the way in one go and bottoming out, your walls stretching to accommodate his heavy girth inside.

Seunghan slides out and inside of you slowly only three times. Then he sets a merciless rhythm, hitting you with smooth, fast and hard thrusts. You wrap your other leg around him and he holds you up with his strong legs and arms, hands grasping your back and ass cheeks. You tug on his hair, kiss his cheeks, nip on his lips and suck on his neck and chest while he keeps fucking you through it all. The wet sounds of his dick fleetly moving in and out of your cunt and your skin slapping together bounce around the walls, becoming the back tracking for the harmony of moans you voice out together.

He doesn’t falter for a minute, not even when you reach down to squeeze his balls. Instead of easing down his flow, he spreads one of your legs apart, securing it to the wall behind you while he scrunches his nose and gazes down to watch how your cunt clutches to his cock every time he pulls back and your hand fondles his testicles.

Seunghan is giving you his everything. Hoisting you up, holding you together, pining you to the wall and fucking you deliciously. Ruining you. His arms bulge and his legs flex while he does it and you can see sweat forming on his forehead. The water still falling from the shower hits his shoulder blades and splash warm droplets on your skins and the shower doors, like it’s painting freckles on the scene, covering you both in the marks of your lovemaking.

You think he never looked as beautiful as he does right now.

“Seunghan,” you call for him and he looks at you with lust and love swimming inside his eyes. You run a hand over the fringe that falls on his forehead, slicking it back and then rubbing your fingers on his cheek bone. Handsome as hell. You can’t quite believe this man is all yours. “I’m close. I want you to cum inside, okay?”

He nods fervently and presses kisses on your hand that’s still on his face. “Yeah, baby, you got it,” he says, his voice faltering slightly.

Just then he slows down the drive of his hips, moving his legs and balancing himself again in between your thighs until he finds the new angle he’s searching for. Your breath hitches when it seems like he slides even deeper inside your pussy. The head of his cock starts to hit that amazing spongy spot inside you and he smiles victoriously when you’re reduced to a blubbering mess. When his thumb rubs on your clit, joining his dick in his effort to make you mad, you’re done for.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moan out, squeezing your eyes shut. Your legs tremble and you try to hold it together, but your peak is coming at you faster and faster. “Baby, I think I’m gonna– I’m cum–”

You’re interrupted by Seunghan’s lips crashing on yours and his tongue being shoved inside your mouth. Your orgasm rips through your body like an out-of-control train flying off its tracks. It’s brisk and powerful, leaving your heart racing and your breath short, your mouth hanging open while you moan your boyfriend’s name until your voice feels raw.

“That’s it, baby. That’s a good girl, cumming all over my cock,” Seunghan says, his eyes locking on yours when your jaw clenches. “I’m right behind you, baby. Going to give you my cum now.”

“I want it, Hani, please do it,” you request with a hoarse voice, fighting your words out through the soreness in your throat.

“Oh, shit,” he groans, his hips jerking and stuttering, his cock swelling up and twitching inside you. “Yeah, fucking take it, baby.”

He spills inside your cunt and you moan deeply one more time before he slumps against you, his forehead pressing on your shoulder while your pussy milks him dry. He’s still holding you up, but the hand that was pining your thigh to the wall is now limp, and you move your leg back to wrap around him, tightening your hold of him to keep him inside you as long as possible.

Seunghan moans some more in your ear and you press reassuring kisses on the moles over his shoulders while you both calm down and catch your breaths. When you feel his gasps mellowing out, you press your fingers on his nape and pull his head back to look into his eyes.

“Hi,” you whisper and he gives you the sweetest smile ever, the lines around his eyes cracking and his whisker dimples appearing on his cheeks. “Happy birthday, Hani.”

He hums happily and rests his forehead on yours, dropping five consecutive pecks on your mouth. “Thank you, baby. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you say, pressing your lips on his to give him a full kiss. He responds eagerly, tongue stroking yours and hands sliding to the back of your thighs to kee you up.

You feel his dick stirring inside you again when he pulls back and says, “You think we can go for round two before the guys show up?”

You laugh incredulously at him and unwrap your legs from his body, pushing on his shoulders until he pulls out of you. He whimpers pathetically at the loss of contact and you lift a finger to shut him up.

“Don’t you start, Hong Seunghan,” you admonish him.

He just pouts and catches your finger with his hand, puts it inside of his mouth and starts to suck on it, looking at you wickedly as he does so, all that while his cum starts to seep out of you. Your breath hitches at the scene and because his remnants now sticking to your thighs. But you keep your cool, withdrawing your finger from between his lips until it’s out with a pop. You give his chest a slap and then turn, moving to stand under the shower head to clean yourself.

However, before you can get the soap on your body, his arms are around you again and his lips are ghosting over the shell of your ear. “I’ll be quick, baby. Please, it’s my birthday.”

You roll your eyes at him. He’s insatiable. And he’s definitely going to be late for his own birthday party.

happy birthday, hani, i love you! If you liked this work, consider sharing your thoughts with me on the comments or my ask box. thanks for reading! 🧡