#you'll have to introduce me to them sometime.

[gguk-n]

Chapter 5- Epilogue

Accelerating Emotions (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N and Oscar are just happy being together. They enjoyed the time they got to spend together.

Over all just fluff.

Y/N and Oscar enjoyed the time between the end of the previous season and the start of the next. Both of them would follow each other around like lost puppies through out the day. Just as the holidays were coming to an end for Y/N, Oscar too had to leave for pre-season training, reluctantly. They would call each other and sometimes Y/N would send him packages and Oscar would send her packages and then the two of them would open them up on video calls.

Oscar really wanted her to come to the first race of the season, which was not possible at all due to her academic year being in full swing. Luckily, she didn't particularly need time off to be at his home race. The Australian GP couldn't come any sooner. Oscar did fly in earlier then usual. Y/N was there to pick him up at the airport since he did fly in super late. "You have a thing for making sure I don't get any sleep" she commented as Oscar climbed into the passenger seat. "I have other ways of keeping you up" he laughed. She just shook her head as she started driving.

They spent the next few days together, Oscar was on a strict diet; so Y/N found great joy in being able to cook for him and having at home dates. They would watch some silly shows and lay awake wrapped in each others arms. "I might have done some shopping" she said randomly. "Doesn't sound like it's a good thing" he said skeptically. "It is a good thing. I bought a dress in your god awful team colour and surprisingly I look good in it. So, I'll be wearing that with a 81 head band to the race." she said proudly. "Where did you get the 81 head band from?" he chuckled. "I made it myself, you'll see" she said kissing his lips. "If this is your way of bribing me, I'll take more" he said. "I'm not bribing you, I did a quiz and my love language is physical touch apparently" she said. "What's mine?" he asked. "Gift giving and physical touch, I think" she said. "I will not be denying that" he smiled.

Y/N accompanied him on quali day, the pair walked hand in hand to the paddock. The camera flashing rapidly to catch their moment together, Y/N was wearing Oscar's papaya jersey, a big smile on her face as she walked in. Oscar found great joy in dragging Y/N around with him. He would introduce her to his team with the biggest smile they had seen on Oscar. Lando had stopped teasing them, since Oscar started to enjoy it too much much to his dismay.

Oscar qualified P6, Y/N was cheering for him as always. It was a warm feeling racing in his home and having all the people that love and support him there. Y/N was wearing an papaya dress with the 81 head band that she knit. The fans loved her outfit and wanted their own 81 headbands. The race was quite eventful, Oscar finished just out of the podium but Y/N celebrated his finish like it was a podium. They spent the night together with their family, laughing and talking about random things and reliving old memories of all the times each of them found out Oscar had a crush on Y/N. It was a good time at Oscar's expense. "Last year, I wouldn't have thought I would get just outside of a podium in my home race or you for that matter" he whispered with his arms wrapped around her waist as they stood there watching everyone. "Well, you've improved." she smiled pecking his cheek. "I love these improvements" he smiled. "Can't wait to watch you win a race honestly" she stated. "I love you babe" he whispered. "I love you too, Osc." she whispered back. "I'm gonna have to ask Lando to stop calling me Osc, it feels weird" he stated. "He says it with love. It's cute honestly. I would also like to ask you to look at me with the same amount of love you look at Lando with" she chuckled. "I look at you with love, Lando it's shock" he said shaking his head.

Oscar's birthday was the day after the Japanese GP. They couldn't spend it together so Y/N sent him a package as a little gift; just some stuff from home and the customary birthday wishes. Oscar wasn't very happy about spending his birthday alone this year, but it's the nature of the sport. He wasn't able to fly in for her birthday either since he had another race weekend. So, they FaceTimed each other with a small cake and blew out candles while on call. Y/N had gotten him a wallet with their initials engraved on it which Oscar carried around with great pride. Y/N had gotten a necklace with an O. You could pass that necklace off as anything but she found a lot of happiness in telling anyone who asked that it was her boyfriend's initial.

During her time off she would fly to Oscar, they would spend all their time together either cuddling in the hotel room or exploring the city. Oscar would love to have her at race weekends but they never coincided with her time off. The fans had started to notice him hanging out with the girl who had the 81 headband and deduced that they were dating as if Oscar wasn't obvious enough.

Oscar winning his first Formula One race was a big thing but sadly Y/N wasn't there to celebrate with him. Instead he flew back to Australia even if only for a few days before he would have to fly back for the last race before the summer break. Back home, he was met with a lot of celebrations. Y/N spent her whole time showering Oscar in praises after his first win. Oscar couldn't help but bask in her praises forgetting the ordeal following his first win.

Y/N was very observant, she noticed when Oscar would wince or hiss quietly when some one would hug him or touch him. He made a conscious effort not to slip up when Y/N was touching him but she caught on and cornered him just like the time Oscar caught her topless when they were teens. "Piastri what's wrong?" she asked, voice laced with concern. "Nothing right now, but you look very hot cornering me. We might have a problem now" he said placing his hands on her waist and leaning closer. She took his hands off her waist and placed them on either side of him, effectively pinning him. "Babe, my mum's 2 feet away" he whispered. "I know, something's wrong and you won't tell me" she questioned further. "Nothing's wrong" Oscar replied trying to lighten the mood but Y/N wasn't buying it. He could easily over power her but he liked the situation he was in. "You've been hissing and wincing in pain since you've been back. I know you're hurt. Tell me where or I will not be kissing or touching you for the foreseeable future." she stated. Oscar knew he couldn't lie to her, she would figure it out, sooner or later. "I fractured my rib before the race" he said. "What" she almost screamed, carefully placing his hands down. "How? You raced? Why didn't you tell me or us?" she barraged him with questions. "It just happened but the medical team cleared me. I'm good and with a bit of rest I'll be as good as new" he said. "What rest? You plan on racing the next race. You didn't tell anyone. It's like you don't need us" she lamented. "I'm perfectly fine now. Don't worry about me" he said cupping her cheeks and pressing a kiss. "Well, it's my second nature to worry, you can't stop me" she announced. "I won't. I love it when you worry about me actually" he gloated. "You will be punished. I'm not touching you until you're fully healed. I heard rib fractures hurt a lot. So, you're on bed rest while you're in Melbourne" she stated. "What? NO! You can't deprive me" he groaned. "I can and I will. Just be grateful I'm not announcing this to the whole family" she tsked and walked away.

Oscar was babied and made to rest by Y/N. She found a way to avoid telling everyone what happened until Oscar would himself. Which he did after the summer break started. His parents were disappointed him but more concerned. Y/N apologised to hiding it since she didn't want to worry them as well.

They spent the summer break lounging around their house or going out to eat. They would catch up on movies and trying out new foods. Oscar had been thinking, he thought about it quite a lot especially when they would be grocery shopping together or he would see her interact with kids or when she would joke with his family or when she would fret over him; that he was ready. He was ready to settle down if it was with her. He wanted everything; a family, a house, kids, the whole nine yards. Oscar might have jumped the gun and bought a ring. He couldn't wait; these could be place holders till she picked one out she liked. He had gotten them his and her bands; they looked a lot like wedding bands. He carried those around for a while, not knowing when to ask and that's how the summer break ended and he would be back racing.

They spent their first anniversary at home while Y/N cooked for Oscar and make him rest. He was on a sex ban because of the rib fracture. No matter how much he tried to reason with her, Y/N wasn't about to budge. Oscar was like a piece of glass and Y/N was too scared to touch him lest she hurt him. Oscar got them his and her matching watches since he wasn't sure he had the guts to propose to her. She got him matching sweaters that she knit and a belt with her initials. "Are you trying to brand me?" he asked looking at the sweater with a big first initial of his girlfriend and the belt too. "I would ask you to get my name tattooed but let's wait for the second anniversary before be pull that" she laughed. "Plus people should know who you belong too" she said. "I think they know, I only talk about cars and you" he said solemnly. "I'm honoured that Mr Piastri talks about something other than cars" she smiled. "I can talk about you all the time. Cars aren't my only interest" he quipped. "Glad to know I don't have to compete with your love for cars like when you were 4" she chuckled. "Cars could never compete with you" he whispered snaking his arms around her waist trying to pull her onto his lap. She carefully pushed him away. "Nope. I'm not falling for this. You are on strict bed rest" she reprimanded. Oscar groaned "Ugh, this stupid rib." "I'm all yours once you're healed" she said pecking his cheeks and getting up to clean up the mess of wrappers they made.

Y/N finally had time off and she was able to fly to Azerbaijan. She had the two weeks off from school and spending time with Oscar was the only thing on her mind. Who would've thought? Okay, Y/N did think. She had maybe hoped Oscar would win since he was starting P2 in the race. Until the very end, you couldn't say much. It was during the last laps; Y/N felt it; watching Oscar zip past, that he might win and he did. She was crying; she couldn't be there for his first win but she was there now. Oscar got out of the car and rushed to his family. He hugged his mother and turned his attention to Y/N who had tried to fix her make up before she came since she had been crying. "I'm so happy you're here to see me win" he whispered in her embrace. "I'm happy I get to share this with you" Oscar pulled away and kissed her and Y/N melted right into his lips. She squished his cheeks deepening the kiss. They pulled away breathless, "I love you so much" he whispered. "I love you too Oscar" she whispered back. "Marry me" he blurted out. "You're not proposing right now, like this" she had started to cry. "Go on, we'll talk later" she said quietly.

Oscar was back in the drivers room with Y/N sat looking solemn. "Sorry about that. I knew this wasn't a good idea" Oscar lamented. "No no, babe. I meant it like you can't be proposing to me in that moment since it was your moment. It was yours and only yours" she explained. "It was ours baby, I've been thinking and I wanna marry you" he stated. "Osc, sweetheart, we're so young. We started dating just over a year ago." she began. "I've loved you for more than half my life. I think I know if I want to marry you or not" he interrupted. "As much as I hate to admit it, I would marry you right now, if I could" she chuckled. "Yay" he laughed. He opened up the red velvet box he had and 2 identical rings were shining back at them. "These look like wedding bands" she couldn't help but laugh. "Maybe" he stared at the box and than her. "You can pick whatever ring you would like. I didn't want to choose something you wouldn't like" he explained. "You know what I like" she said. "I'm not that confident" he said. "Well, I love you and anything you pick, I would love that too" she smiled at him. Oscar felt like he would turn into mush.

At the Singapore GP, the two of them were spotted with their rings. The media and fans were speculating whether they had a shot gun wedding. Oscar found great joy in calling Y/N, Mrs Piastri. But later, his mum did tell everyone that they hadn't indeed gotten married and those were engagement rings because her son was a big sap.

Oscar stared at their hands as they lay in bed entangled in each other, her hand on his chest and his wrapped around her. If you told 13 year old Oscar that he would be laying in bed with his crush he would've laughed at you, but 23 year old Oscar was lying in bed with the love of his life. Oscar wouldn't have it any other way. If you had told Y/N that the annoyingly quite and mature kid her brother befriended would be the man she planned on marrying, she would call you delusional but right now everything felt like a blissful dream that she would like to never wake up from. The two of them were happy in each others arms, away from the world.

[changingplumbob]

Glenn: Well goodbye BooBoo. I need to go find Marisol. I think Elise said she was by the river?

BooBoo: *meows*

Putting his hands in his pockets Glenn heads away from the buildings towards the river. He can feel going through the protective barriers, like walking through mist. There are no spells he has to say to get out. The protection is about stopping things getting in. So far, it's worked. Some townsfolk walk beyond the edges of the property but always turn or stop before walking in. Glenn feels a bit guilty that less people can experience the beauty of the park but if they were discovered here there could be backlash. Not everyone was friendly towards occults even if the humans had begun to tolerate them.

As he approached where the river ran south of the property he saw a bundle of yellow and blue. Walking over he saw another spellcaster covering her dog with kisses.

Glenn: I'm not interrupting am I

Marisol: Not at all, I was just calming Sandy down after her bath

Glenn: She just had a bath? She looks dry

Marisol: Well I always move all the water off afterwards don't I

Sandy: *barks in agreement*

Marisol: Do you need help with something?

Glenn: Oh, no, I just... I've met everyone else in the coven and figured it was only polite to introduce myself

Marisol: A man with manners? Sandy approves

Sandy: *barks*

Marisol: It's Glenn right? Howard's grandson?

Glenn: That's me

Glenn bends down to say hello to Sandy while Marisol shifts awkwardly.

Marisol: I'm sorry you didn't get your guy

Glenn: Well if you listen to Ophelia he was never meant to be mine

Marisol: I listen to her most of the time. Sometimes she seems brilliant and other times...

Glenn: She's a few marbles short?

Marisol: Yes! All the best people are of course but it does make it hard to maintain a conversation now and then

Glenn: Why are you all the way out here? I thought everyone was busy studying stuff

Marisol: The coven isn't an institution. We don't stick to a set schedule of chaining ourselves to desks

Glenn: Sorry. I didn't mean to sound disapproving

Marisol: I know, I'm just antsy

Glenn: Oh?

Marisol sighed wistfully and turned to face the buildings. The pair were able to see them of course but no one else could.

Marisol: I've found I'm not good with change. We were at the last location for a long time. It feels like we've only been here for a heartbeat, it's still so new and unfamiliar

Sandy: *whines*

Marisol: I know the magic realm is only ever a step away but... it's different when your home base changes

Glenn: You don't consider leaving

Marisol: And what? Going backwards just me and Sandy?

Glenn: If you're not happy here-

Marisol: I will be. I can feel it. It's the change that's a difficulty. How about you, do you consider leaving?

Glenn: I don't know

Marisol: Sure you do. The idea has either entered your brain or it hasn't

Sandy: *barks in agreement*

Glenn: I guess... I guess there's just a lot of the world out there that seems interesting but it's still dangerous

Marisol: Some places are better than others for our kind

Glenn: I guess I just want a nice spot to grow a garden... and fall in love... and raise a family. Why did I just tell you that?

Marisol: *chuckles* It's Sandy, she puts everyone at ease

Glenn: Maybe I should get a dog

Sandy: *barks approvingly*

Glenn: Then again it's enough of a task keeping me looking gorgeous

Marisol: Don't worry if you feel out of place Glenn, it's a feeling I'm familiar with and will either pass or you'll move on

Glenn: Like die?

Marisol: *giggling* No, like move elsewhere. Willow Creek is not the only place in the world with dirt and plants I bet

Glenn: I know. My grandfather thinks I should stay for a bit though. I've never really done much focusing of my magic beyond gardening so it could be useful to learn some more. No point having a family if I can't protect them

Marisol: Hunting has been outlawed you know

Glenn: Yeah but society can take time to. Growing up... we moved so much. Hunting was illegal then to but it didn't stop irate townsfolk accusing us of stealing their livestock or killing their plants

Marisol: *scoffs* Like a Sutherland would ever kill a plant

Glenn: That's what grandfather told them! Still, small minds have small ideas

Previous ... Next

[copperbadge]

I'm getting depressingly good at identifying the formula for Pop Academic Books About ADHD.

Regardless of their philosophy it pretty much goes like this:

1. Emotionally sensitive essay about the struggle of ADHD and the author's personal experience with it as both a person with ADHD and a healthcare professional.

2. Either during or directly following this, a lightly explicated catalogue of symptoms, illustrated by anecdotes from patient case studies. Optional: frequent, heavy use of metaphor to explain ADHD-driven behavior.

3. Several chapters follow, each dedicated to a symptom; these have a mini-formula of their own. They open with a patient case study, discuss the highly relatable aspects of the specific symptom or behavior, then offer some lightweight examples of a treatment for the symptom, usually accompanied by follow up results from the earlier case studies.

4. Somewhere around halfway-to-two-thirds through the book, the author introduces the more in-depth explication of the treatment system (often their own homebrew) they are advocating. These are generally both personally-driven (as opposed to suggested cultural changes, which makes sense given these books' target audience, more on this later) and composed of an elaborate system of either behavior alteration or mental reframing. Whether this system is actually implementable by the average reader varies wildly.

5. A brief optional section on how to make use of ADHD as a tool (usually referring to ADHD or some of its symptoms as a superpower at least once). Sometimes this section restates the importance of using the systems from part 4 to harness that superpower. Frequently, if present, it feels like an afterthought.

6. Summation and list of further resources, often including other books which follow this formula.

I know I'm being a little sarcastic, but realistically there's nothing inherently wrong about the formula, like in itself it's not a red flag. It's just hilariously recognizable once you've noticed it.

It makes sense that these books advocate for the Reader With ADHD undertaking personal responsibility for their treatment, since these are in the tradition of self-help publishing. They're aimed at people who are already interested in doing their own research on their disability and possible ways to handle it. It's not really fair to ask them to be policy manuals, but I do find it interesting that even books which advocate stuff like volunteering (for whatever reason, usually to do with socialization issues and isolation, often DBT-adjacent) never suggest disability activism either generally or with an ADHD-specific bent.

None of these books suggest that perhaps life with ADHD could be made easier with increased accommodations or ease of medication access, and that it might be in a person's best interest to engage in political advocacy surrounding these and other disability-related issues. Or that activism related to ADHD might help to give someone with ADHD a stronger sense of ownership of their unique neurology. Or that if you have ADHD the idea of activism or even medical self-advocacy is crushingly stressful, and ways that stress might be dealt with.

It does make me want to write one of my own. "The Deviant Chaos Guide To Being A Miscreant With ADHD". Includes chapters on how to get an actual accurate assessment, tips for managing a prescription for a controlled substance, medical and psychiatric self-advocacy for people who are conditioned against confrontation, When To Lie About Being Neurodivergent, policy suggestions for ADHD-related legislation, tips for activism while executively dysfunked, and to close the book a biting satire of the pop media idea of self-care. ("Feeling sad? Make yourself a nice pot of chicken soup from scratch and you'll feel better in no time. Stay tuned after this rambling personal essay for the most mediocre chicken soup recipe you've ever seen!" "Have you considered planning and executing an overly elaborate criminal heist as a way to meet people and stay busy?")

Every case study or personal anecdote in the book will have a different name and demographics attached but will also make it obvious that they are all really just me, in the prose equivalent of a cheap wig, writing about my life. "Kelly, age seven, says she struggles to stay organized using the systems neurotypical children might find easy. I had to design my own accounting spreadsheet in order to make sure I always have enough in checking to cover the mortgage, she told me, fidgeting with the pop socket on her smartphone."

I feel a little bad making fun, because these books are often the best resource people can get (in itself concerning). It's like how despite my dislike of AA, I don't dunk on it in public because I don't want to offer people an excuse not to seek help. It feels like punching down to criticize these books, even though it's a swing at an industry that is mainly, it seems, here to profit from me. But one does get tired of skimming the hype for the real content only to find the real content isn't that useful either.

Les (not his real name) was diagnosed at the age of 236. Charming, well-read, and wealthy, he still spent much of his afterlife feeling deeply inadequate about his perceived shortcomings. "Vampire culture doesn't really acknowledge ADHD as a condition," he says. "My sire wouldn't understand, even though he probably has it as well. You should see the number of coffins containing the soil of his homeland that he's left lying forgotten all over Europe." A late diagnosis validated his feelings of difference, but on its own can't help when he hyperfocuses on seducing mortals who cross his path and forgets to get home before sunrise. "I have stock in sunburn gel companies," he jokes.

[thatnewweeb]

Childhood Sweethearts | Bakugo Katsuki

Summary | You moved to America when you were young, having to leave behind your childhood sweetheart. After moving back to Japan, you'll find out if things have changed between you two

Content | Fluff, honestly I can't think of any warnings for this so let me know if you see anything that needs a warning

Word Count | 1.7k+

A/N | I love the idea of Bakugo being in love with someone through his whole life, I have no idea why. At the time of posting, I wrote this forever ago

It had been almost 5 whole years since you moved away. You missed home. It wasn't like you'd wanted to move away in the first place, but your dad's job took you away from Japan all the way to America.

Finally, at 18 years old, you finally convinced your parents to allow you to move home. Having attended an elite hero school for the past 2 years, you managed to have some special arrangements made for your return home.

And so, that is how you got to where you are now, nervously walking down the halls of UA next to Principal Nezu. He had spent the first half hour of the morning before classes began showing you around and explaining a few things to you.

At the start of homeroom at 8:25AM, he walks you to the classroom of Class 3-A, the class you will be joining, starting today.

Everyone looks over as the door opens, the principal strolling in and standing at the front of the class. You follow nervously. These people have had nearly 3 whole years to get to know each other, and here you are, the new girl joining in the final year, not knowing anyone.

At least, you didn't think you knew anyone, until you force yourself to look at the class properly.

Your eyes immediately fall on a blond boy in the second row. His own eyes are widened, locked onto you. A moment later, you rip your eyes away from him, prompting him to look away also.

When you realise Nezu has stopped speaking and is now looking at you, you snap out of it and look at the whole class.

"My name is Y/N. I have two Quirks, which I am sure I will have more time sometime soon to explain. I look forward to spending this year with you." You say and bow slightly to the class.

Your homeroom teacher, Aizawa, points you to your assigned seat, so you sit down quietly, not saying another word.

It isn't until lunch, almost four hours later, that you say anything else, besides answering questions in class. Your fourth period was English with Present Mic. Having lived in an English-speaking country for almost 5 years, it was quite an easy class for you.

Almost as soon as you are dismissed from class, you're surrounded by people, wanting to talk to you, get to know you. You're fine with that, but you did have someone else you wanted to talk to. They already walked out the door though.

"Y/N!" Someone says, popping up in front of you out of nowhere.

"Izuku!" You smile, excitedly throwing your arms around your old friend.

You see a brown-haired girl blushing as she watches you hugging Midoriya.

"I can't believe you're here! I didn't know you were coming back!"

You nod. "I know, I'm sorry I didn't say anything."

He shakes his head, wanting to reassure you. "It's okay! We fell out of touch, that's not anyone's fault."

Izuku invites you to spend lunch break with him and his friends, being introduced to them all, him explaining a little about how he got into UA at all.

After classes have finished for the day, you don't give Bakugo the chance to run. As soon as you're dismissed from class, you walk over to his desk, standing in front of it and resting your hands on the surface.

"It's nice to see you again, Katsuki." You smirk.

He looks up at you from his chair briefly, quickly looking away. “Yeah, it is.”

You lean down so you’re closer to his height, him still avoiding eye contact. “Would you mind walking me back to the dorm? I haven’t actually been there yet, Nezu didn’t have time to take me.”

He tuts but stands up, picking up his bag and slinging it over your shoulder. Not saying a thing, he leaves the classroom, you following him. You know what he’s like, you know to follow.

As soon as you're out of the halls and outside, he decides to say something. "I didn't know you were coming back." He mutters.

You're just happy to hear him say something to you. "Yeah. I know."

He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

You pause where you are, stunned. You hadn't expected him to apologise to you.

When you don't say anything, he sighs and turns to you, also stopping walking. "I shouldn't have stopped responding. I was upset you were gone, and I went about things in the stupidest way. I... I regret it."

It takes a moment for you to say anything, blinking in shock. "It's okay." You smile brightly up at him. "I understand. It was hard on both of us, after all."

"Yeah, but I ghosted you. I shouldn't have done that. Not to you, you don't deserve that."

"I agree you shouldn't have done it, dummy. But I'm saying I understand, okay?"

He smiles a little, looking down at you. "Come on, let's go to the dorms." He tugs on your backpack, indicating that you should take it off. When you do, he slings one strap over his shoulder, carrying it for you.

"Since when did you become a gentleman?" You ask with a small laugh, making him grunt a 'shut up' to you, his cheeks going slightly pink.

Finally reaching the dorms, Bakugo opens the door for you, letting you into the large building.

Everyone else is already there, the people in the communal area looking at you as you enter. Other than Izuku, people seem a little surprised to see you with Bakugo, and even more surprised that he doesn't look as annoyed as he typically does.

With everyone staring, Katsuki shoves your bag back into your arms before walking over to the stairs to go to his room.

You smile a little as you watch him, shaking your head.

Izuku is the first person to come up to you, smiling. "Everyone wants to get to know you a little. If you have some time, come sit with us?"

You do what he says, walking over and taking a seat between him and a boy with a black streak in mostly blond hair.

You end up spending a couple hours with them, telling them about your Quirk and what it's like to live in America. When they ask about you seemingly already knowing both Izuku and Katsuki, you tell them that you grew up with them.

A girl with pink skin, who you learn is Mina, asks you for some stupid stories about them as kids, Izuku going red and telling you that you don't have to talk about anything you don't want to, trying to save himself the embarrassment.

Even though you're unsure if Bakugo will be annoyed at you for telling them this, you also tell them a few stories from when you and him were dating before you left for America.

Everyone seems surprised, a small uproar coming from the class. No one had ever even seen an indication that he had ever been interested in anyone, yet alone had a girlfriend. It appeared to be a ludicrous idea to most of them.

Kaminari seems to deflate a little upon realising you dated one of his best friends. Guess he thought you were pretty.

Not long after, you go find your room, needing to unpack. Right before you close the door, a foot stops it from closing. A second later, Bakugo comes into view.

"Well, hello there." You smirk a little, looking up at him.

He smirks back, placing a hand on the doorframe, standing in front of you. "Hey. Care if I come in?"

You move out the way for him to come in but tell him it's a little messy because you're still unpacking.

He doesn't even look at the room, closing the door as soon as he's inside and standing close to you, essentially pinning you between him and the door.

That's when you really realise how much he's changed. He's so much taller now than when you last saw him, his shoulders broader, entire body more muscular, a few visible scars now. The whole thing makes you a little flustered.

"So, do you have a little American boyfriend now?" He asks with a slight snarl, expression turning into a smirk as soon as you shake your head. "No? Then, would you mind if I kissed you?" He whispers in your ear.

You don't verbally respond, but the look on your face gives him the answer he needs. He keeps one hand on the wall, the other coming to rest on your waist, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours. Your own hands find your way to his chest, gripping onto his shirt.

A moment later, he pulls away a little, smirking. "Guess we haven't missed a beat, huh?"

You laugh, not letting go of his shirt. "Suki, you're an ass." You say, making him laugh too.

"Yeah, but you love it." He whispers, leaning in to kiss you again. "It's starting to get late, and you haven't finished unpacking yet. If you wanted to stay in my room tonight, you're welcome to."

You look up at him, a little surprised by the proposal. When he sees the look on your face, he panics a small amount. "I didn't mean it like that! I meant we can spend the night sleeping together- no, not sleeping together! Not like that! I just meant- we- we can- I meant-"

You giggle at his nervousness, making him look a little angry. You move your hands to rest on his cheeks, standing on your tiptoes and smashing your lips against his.

When you finally break the kiss again, both a little breathless, he stares at you, mouth open slightly.

"Sorry, I had to find a way to shut you up." You smile. "I'd love to cuddle tonight, Suki."

He looks relieved, taking your hand. "Come on, let's go."

You spend the rest of the night in Bakugo's dorm, cuddling and eventually falling asleep in his bed.

Before he falls asleep, he spends a few moments just watching you, barely being able to believe that he got lucky enough to get you back into his life. He gives you a soft kiss on the forehead, holding you tighter, closing his own eyes and falling asleep.

[deepcreekvultures-writing]

"Stellar Collision"

Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Word Count: 8.2k

Content Warning: Mild injury, Description of injury, Smut, Fingering (F receiving), Penetrative Sex, Using Astronomy as a Plot Device

A/N: Please ignore any inaccuracies with the scientific stuff and the smut- I'm just silly and Asexual. I picture this as late season 4 Spencer, but you can picture whatever Spencer you want bbg.

Summary: Everyone knows you and Spencer Reid work well together- actually, the entire team thinks you two are the most oblivious profilers to ever work for the FBI, but c'est la vie- they figure you'll crash into each other eventually.

=======

Shaking the hand of the lead detective you introduce yourself before gesturing to Spencer who hovers behind you, “... and this is Agent Weirdly Sticky, a.k.a. Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Spencer’s face scrunches in an odd fusion of disgust, confusion, and amusement. He fights off the laugh that bubbles up and just lifts his hand in an awkward wave. Pressing his lips into a thin line to avoid the smile threatening to break out on his face. JJ elbows you in the ribs, earning a small ‘oomph’ as she pushes you aside. 

It had become routine at this point, calling him weird names to break the tension between the team and locals. Spencer’s hands rest on your shoulders to steady you as JJ takes over the conversation. You chuckle, following an officer into the precinct conference room to get everything set up. Hotch doesn’t say anything about your antics for once, resigning to just accept that there was no stopping you. 

“You really need to stop doing that, they’re going to think you don’t take things seriously.” Spencer mutters to you quietly, his hip lightly bumping into yours as the two of you stick photos onto the provided whiteboard.

“Yeah, maybe, but their face is worth it. It’s like they think federal agents can’t joke, so at first they believe me.” You giggle, sliding your hand around his waist, unceremoniously picking him up and pivoting him around you. You swap places with him quickly to tack a few pieces of evidence to the board.

Spencer lets it happen, not offering any help as you move him. Not that you need it, you were more than strong enough. “But “Agent Weirdly Sticky”? They’re going to think I don’t shower or something.”

You laugh, “At least they won’t try and touch you.” Looking at the board, you tilt your head a little. “The handwriting in each of these is so similar but look-” You point at two series of numbers, “one writes their seven with a dash, and the other doesn’t.”

Spencer leans forward to look at it, his eyes squinting as his mouth drops open in focus. 

“I swear you need to start wearing your glasses again.” You snort, reaching out and placing your fingers under his chin to push his jaw closed. 

He bats your hand away, “Glasses obstruct my peripherals.”

“But you look cute with them.” You argue, sliding to stand behind him, “I miss them.” 

Flattening your hands, you place them on either side of his head, blocking his peripherals. He ignores you, trying to focus on the pages in front of him rather than the warmth radiating off of your palms. Only moving when his phone rings, you drop them on his shoulders, turning him a little so you could grab his phone from his front pocket. 

“Hey Garcia, what’s up?” You greet, “...yeah, it’s me, what do you have for us?”

The investigation continues like that, the two of you revolving around each other, splitting up only when necessary, bouncing profiles off of the other.

Everyone knew you worked well together. Spencer was comfortable around you, not as stiff and one track minded as he would be working alone. He turned to you for most things, and sometimes when working through things in his mind he would just stare at you- Managing to find most of his answers in the curve of your nose and the color of your lips. 

You mellowed out around Spencer, his ramblings filling empty spaces almost like a living white noise machine. It was hard for most people to believe how abrasive and short fused you could be working alone. Irritation ran rampant with local PD getting in the way, suspects being difficult, media running with half baked stories; whenever the tension in your jaw threatened to spring into a full on rage, Spencer was always there.  

“You’re telling me you released the profile to the press even though we specifically told you not to?” Your eyebrows raise, hands pushing your sleeves up to your elbows.

“The public needs to know what they’re dealing with.” The detective crosses his arms over his chest, lifting his chin in challenge.

“Yeah? Well now our Unsub knows exactly what to change to avoid us, this guy is smart and he is watching.” Your voice raises slightly, shoulders squaring as you step chest to chest with the man. “From this point on, you release nothing to the press without approval from our Liaison or SSA Hotchner.” 

The detective snorts, shaking his head, “Oh yeah? And who are you to tell me what to do?”

Spencer instinctively reaches out, hooking his finger around your belt loop. He tugs you backwards, putting space between you and the focal point of your mounting rage. You don’t relax, but you let him pull you back.

“I’m the woman who’s gonna punch a hole through your spinal cord.” Your tone is icy, and he can almost hear your jaw pop from how hard you’re clenching your teeth. Spencer keeps his finger hooked on your belt loop, cringing slightly at the threat. 

It’s not that he disagrees with you, it was out of line for them to release a statement to the public without the team’s permission; and it’s not that he thinks you can’t back up your statement, he is well aware that you can. Spencer just didn’t want you to get suspended for assaulting an officer. Again.

Hotch approaches, stepping between you and the detective, and- to your relief- backs you up.

“If you release anything more to the public you can consider that little boy as good as gone. If you want us to be able to catch the unsub before it’s too late, it’ll do you well to listen to my agents.” His sharp gaze lingers on the man’s face before he turns to you, “Go cool off, and stop threatening people.” 

You nod and turn to leave, missing the small tilt of Hotch’s head, gesturing for Spencer to go with. He obliges, quickly rushing after you. 

Pacing around in the conference room, you keep your arms folded, chewing on the nail of your thumb.

“Sit.” Spencer pulls out one of the chairs, and you follow his instruction. Having gone through this routine again and again, you move a few stacks of papers, opening up a space for him to sit on the table’s glossy surface.

“I was reading up on star systems, and typically stars will orbit around each other in small or large groups- but most are trinary with only three stars…” Spencer hops up onto the table, crossing his legs under himself. He settles into his position, leaning his arms on his legs as he watches your face. 

He can tell by the way your head tilts that you’re listening, unconsciously bringing your ear closer to him. Folding your arms across your chest again, you roll your jaw to relieve the tension from the joint. He pays attention to your demeanor, watching the pressure between your eyes melt away. Crossing your legs, you tilt your hips, turning your body to face him though your gaze stays cast to the floor. Spencer responds by unfolding his legs, stretching them out to rest his feet on the apex of your thigh. 

Hands finding their way to the laces of his converse, you untie and retie them as his melodic droning fills the room. You keep yourself from looking at him, wanting to hold onto your anger for just a little longer. Spencer knows that you would’ve stewed in your fury for hours alone- and it seemed that Hotch knew the same. 

“... but then you have star systems that are just two stars- a binary system. The Sirius star system is the most well known, but Sirius A is a lot bigger than Sirius B. Sirius B is a white dwarf- which has around the same mass as our sun but condensed into a star not much bigger than the earth.”

“Without the extra gravity from another star like in trinary systems… Do binary stars collide a lot?” You ask and Spencer beams, happy that you were finally relaxed enough to fully engage.

“Actually, it’s pretty rare for them to collide. They stay stable for the most part, but when they do collide it’s most likely due to their stability being thrown off by the exchange of mass or gravitational radiation.” Unlacing his left shoe fully, you replace them upside down, tying the bow at the toe of his converse. He expected you to do the same with the other shoe, but you leave it asymmetrical. 

Lifting your gaze from his shoes, your eyes settle on his face. Spencer chews on his bottom lip, looking for any underlying stress in your features. He finds none.

“So, when a stellar collision occurs, the way it reacts depends on what kind of stars were involved in the collision. Like, if it was a set of white dwarfs, the gravitational radiation would cause them to spiral inwards and-”

Spencer is cut off by JJ poking her head in the room, “Hey, the unsub responded to the statement they released.”

You sigh, “Come on, Gorgeous, you can tell me more later.” pushing Spencer’s feet off of you before standing. You lead the way out of the conference room. As he follows, he tries to ignore the way his face warms when you call him gorgeous. He knew it was stupid to focus on your little nicknames- you use them often enough that he should be used to it by now- but his heart flutters all the same.

Spencer stands at your side, his slender fingers finding their way back around your belt loop. He didn’t think you would do anything, but local cops could be unpredictable.

A few feet away, Emily leans over to Morgan, “So how long have they been dating?” She asks.

Morgan looks at her, quirking an eyebrow, “Who?”

“Reid and his attack dog, duh.” She points to the two agents attached at the hip next to JJ. Morgan snorts, covering his mouth with his hand.

“They’re not,” He shrugs, laughing when Emily’s head snaps to look at him, “I know- I know, we like to say they are, they just don’t know it yet.”

Emily looks back at the two of you, noting how you lean back into him. Your head tilts up and you whisper in his ear, motioning to whatever the unsub had sent loosely. “You’re kidding…”

“I wish I was,” Derek shakes his head, moving to place his hands on his hips, “you’re looking at a four year relationship between the two most oblivious profilers in the FBI.”

The entire team has thought the two of you were dating at some point- even Gideon before he left. In the beginning, Hotch came to the conclusion that the two of you lived together and got into the habit of only calling one on the assumption that you would arrive together. And you did. Always.

With the unsubs response, you and Spencer manage to put together a solid lead to who exactly you’re looking for. You hand the letter to Spencer, and break away to call Garcia- still with Spencer’s phone.

Garcia locates the unsub and the team hits the road. After securing your own bulletproof vest, you approach Spencer. Undoing the velcro on the sides of his vest to redo them. The velcro ripping apart is loud, drawing the attention of Rossi. He makes a face, looking over at Hotch and Derek who shrug in response. 

You make sure they’re snug, sliding your hands along the curve of his waist. Moving on to the straps over his shoulders, your face scrunches a little in focus. Your hands are warm, radiating their heat onto the skin of his neck. Spencer watches you, your lips parted slightly, the tip of your tongue fitted between your teeth. You shimmy the vest, eyes roving over his torso to make sure there were no loose points. 

Satisfied, you pat the FBI emblem on his chest, turning away without a word.

As the team approaches the house, you enter ahead of him. Moving methodically through the hallways, indicating clear rooms through your intercom. You enter the garage slowly, Spencer following closely behind you. 

“FBI, drop the gun and show me your hands!” You have your gun on the unsub, expression stone cold. The man huffs, sweat dripping from his nose and he switches between pointing the barrel of his hand gun at you or Spencer. He seems to settle on the latter and you step forward, rushing the unsub who in turn shoots. 

Spencer expects impact, but it doesn’t find him. Instead, coupled with the dull ringing in his ears from the shot, he can hear the crack of the man’s nose as the butt of your pistol slams into it. You gently push the little boy the unsub was holding towards Spencer, who cradles him to his chest. 

“We have the kid- garage.” He can hear you gasp into your intercom, the breath knocked from your lungs at the impact of the bullet. Slamming the unsub into the concrete and cuffing him, you attempt to take in air. The grimace on your face isn’t from rage, he can tell that much, the tension is sat in your throat rather than your jaw.

Once the man is cuffed beneath you, your knee holding his arms in place as he squirms, you huff. Long, drawn out, breaths are pulled into your lungs. Expanding them slowly as you feel the searing, white hot, tendrils of pain erupting from the base of your ribcage.

===  

“I’m fine,” You assure him for the fifth time since the team got back to the precinct. He goes to say something, but you hold up your hand, your finger pushing against his forehead, “Yes. I promise.”

“But-” He grabs your wrist, “but, even if you were shot in the “bulletproof” vest, the vest isn’t actually bulletproof. You could have bruised or cracked ribs, internal bleeding, even organ damage-”

Wiggling your arm out of his grip, you slap a hand over his mouth, “I got checked out by the paramedics, I’m fine.” He grumbles but nods, his eyes soft as he silently pouts. “Perfect, now go pack up your stuff.”

He slinks away, still pouting. Packing up the things in the conference room slowly, his worry plaguing his demeanor. You frown as you watch him. Making Spencer upset was the last thing you wanted to do.

Morgan slides up next to you, “Hey there rockstar, I know you’re just trying to reassure him. How is it really?”

Sighing, you rub a hand over your face, “He shot me at close range, the bullet pierced through and I’ve got the most wicked bruise and it hurts to breathe- but I’m definitely not telling him that.” 

Morgan laughs, his eyebrows raised in concern. “You know he just worries, let him take care of you.” He pats your shoulder in support, stalking away as Spencer comes back, bag slung over his shoulder. 

Landing back in Quantico, Spencer finds his way into your car- something he had taken a liking to. You were a good driver, and Spencer didn’t really like driving all that much. Having to focus on so many things means that he can’t talk as much as he wants to. But he sinks comfortably into the passenger seat of your car. His shoulders drooping as he leans his head back on the head rest. 

He tucks his duffel under his legs, relishing in the leg room your car offered. Since he was the only one who really rode with you he had the seat set how he liked.

“Are you gonna finish your rant about stellar collisions?” You ask, your voice soft as it carries over the sound of the car’s A/C. He turns his head, eyebrows furrowing slightly in confusion. You laugh, “You were explaining what would happen if two white dwarfs crashed into each other. Are you sure about that eidetic memory thing?” 

He rolls his eyes at your teasing, but he straightens up in his seat, taking a second to remember where he left off. 

“So, the two white dwarves would emit gravitational radiation, or waves, which would cause their orbit to become unstable- which would in turn cause the stars to spiral into each other,” He uses his hands as a model, “and once they collide, the force causes carbon fusion to ignite. White dwarfs are basically dead stars that no longer support fusions, but the fusion is re-ignited by the merge.”

You nod along, turning into the parking lot of your apartment building. Spencer is confused, usually you would drop him off first, but he decides to keep his question to himself, “And since the dwarfs are made up of that degenerate matter, the equilibrium needed to keep the merge stable is pretty much non-existent. So the thermal pressure combined with the unstable weight of them crashing into each other causes a full blown supernova.”

“Supernova, huh? That’s pretty cool.” You grin, putting the car in park. You turn your head to look at him, and he stays silent. A soft smile rests on his face, and he takes the time to memorize the way the warm lighting of the street lamp shines on your soft features.

You turn off the car, pocketing your keys as you open the car door, “I need your help with something really quick, then I’ll drop you off at home, okay?”

“Yeah, no, of course.” He gets out of the car, mindlessly grabbing his bag as he rushes to catch up with you. Unlocking your ground floor apartment, Spencer shuffles in after you. He kicks off his shoes, nudging them into a neat position with his foot before placing his bag next to them.

You shrug off your jacket, hissing lightly as you slowly stretch your arms over your head. Motioning with a small tilt of your head, you lead him further into your apartment, flicking on a few lights as you do. 

After all these years of knowing you, Spencer hadn’t been to your apartment much. He liked how homey it felt, dark wood furniture scattered around neatly, warm lighting, and a little clutter here and there. It was very you.

Opening the door to your bedroom, you usher him inside. Your hand was on his lower back to guide him, “Chill out, Pancake, I just need you to help me change my bandage.” You chuckle, pushing him a little firmer as he hesitates. You separate from him to grab the first aid kit from your bathroom, setting it down on the mattress when you return.

“I thought you said you were fine?” He asks, tilting his head and furrowing his eyebrows a little.

“I am, but I might’ve just told you that because I didn’t want you worrying.” Your confession frustrates him and he crosses his arms, “Don’t look at me like that you Grackle, just help me out, please?”

Spencer nods, dropping his hands at his sides, stuffing them into his pockets. He watches as you shuffle through the contents of your first aid kit. His hand mindlessly lifts to scratch at the inner part of his right elbow. Without looking away from your task, you reach one of your hands behind you. Gently hooking your fingers around his, you push his hand away.

“Okay, so, it definitely looks worse than it is.” You warn, turning to him. Before he can ask what you mean, you start unbuttoning your shirt. His head snaps to look away, the tense joint in his neck cracking at the force. 

His cheeks warm, his hands coming up to fiddle with his tie. Keeping his eyes averted, he wills himself to stop thinking all together. All trains of thought chug their way back to you, your face, your lips, your bare torso- he has to stop thinking. Blank. Blankness.

“Uh, if you’re gonna help me I kinda need you to look,” You chuckle awkwardly. He slowly turns his head, feeling like his head is sitting atop a stack of rusty gears. To both his relief and utter disappointment, you were wearing a tanktop. He doesn’t have time to decide if he should choose between the two, you shrug off the button up before quickly pulling the tank top over your head.

Spencer was afraid he wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes away from your chest, clad in a black bra, but his eyes were immediately drawn lower. At the base of your ribcage sits a large mass of purple and red splotchy skin spreading out from underneath a bloodied bandage. His mouth falls open when he sees it, his eyes flicking between your face and the bruising over and over. 

“Like I said,” you raise your hands, “It looks worse than it is. The bullet pierced through the vest a little and it hit skin.”

“What? Do you have any broken ribs, any organ damage, what if you’re bleeding internally?” He rushes, his hand cupping the curve of your ribs. His thumb grazes over the edge of the bandage.

Tensing at his touch, you respond swiftly, “I have a broken rib, a few fractures and a ton of bruising. The ribs took the brunt of the force, no organ damage.”

“That you know of-” 

You shush him, placing your hand over his. His fingers were warm against your bare skin. Making no move to remove his hand fully, you gently slide his hand lower to rest in the dip of your waist. He lets out a shuddering breath, briefly distracted by the softness of your side. 

Peeling back the bandage, you wince, swallowing the hiss bubbling at the back of your throat. The center of the impact was so red it looked black, the dark purple skin surrounding it giving the illusion of a black hole. Reminding himself of what exactly he was here for, Spencer sits on your bed, guiding you by your waist to stand between his legs.

He gets to work, gingerly removing his hand from your side to grab the contents of your kit. Working silently, he focuses on being as gentle as possible while also assessing the damage. His eyes squint softly, his jaw hanging open as he disinfects it. You watch him, your head tilted downwards, noting every small mole or freckle you can as you try to ignore the burning ache in your abdomen- both physically and metaphorically. 

Having him this close was supposed to be the norm, right? The two of you had been closer than anyone on the team for almost 5 years. But your heart pools into your stomach, settling itself in your wound. Just for the chance to be cared for by his hands. 

Spencer’s hands, warm and lightly calloused, slide along your ribs as softly as he can manage. His long, slender fingers, guiding a new bandage into place.

You had never considered that Dr. Spencer Reid would ever return your simmering feelings. Sure, he went along with your teasing, let you manhandle him, calmed you down, turned to you for everything, cried on your shoulder, comforted you. But that was just him, right? He was like that with everyone… Right?

No. Spencer was sweet, yes, but you knew. He was different around you, more open, more playful. Everyone on the team knows how you revolve, bound to each other via some inexplicable force. He knows how you like your tea, he knows what snacks you like, he knows the ins and outs of your past relationships. But he knows everything, from the probability of finding a four-leaf clover, to quantum physics. You weren’t special.

But once he’s done securing the bandage just beneath your sternum, he looks up at you. His eyes rounded and shining, their honey-like color looking richer than ever. 

And you feel like the only woman in the universe. 

It’s hard not to feel like you’re completely under his spell when the warm hazel color of his eyes bore into your own. The patterning on his irises were just as enchanting, throwing you into the labyrinth that has held your heart at its center for the past 4 years. 

“How often do you need to change it?” He whispers, suddenly finding himself closer to you, his warm breath wafting over the center of your chest. 

“Just once a day after this.” Is your breathy response. Your hands lift, gently pushing the front pieces of his hair behind his ears, “Your hair is getting long.”

“Should I cut it?” He asks, gaze unwavering. You shake your head no, brushing your fingers through his soft brown waves. The touch is attentive and gentle. The air grows thick with every passing moment, bathing every touch in an intimate nature. 

Spencer’s hands linger at your sides, fingers ghosting along your waist. He looks up at you, his eyes somehow softening further. You almost melt on the spot, your hands finding their place at the nape of his neck. Mindlessly, you press the pads of your thumbs into the space just below his skull. The pressure alleviates some of the tension in his neck, his eyes fluttering closed as you begin to move them in a circular motion.

“You really worry too much…” You murmur, face flushing as you watch his expression melt into contentment. 

“Hard not to when you’re rushing at a sociopath with a gun…” He mumbles in response, looking at you through his eyelashes. “Especially when this bullet was meant for me.” His thumb slides over the bandage, his bottom lip jutting out a little as his eyes round at the edges. 

That damn puppy dog look. You hated it. He used it in any situation where he wasn’t getting his way. He knew it worked on you, probably thinking that you just thought he was too cute to resist. Not quite, as much as you did think it was cute- it was just such a turn-on.

Scoffing, you push away the mounting arousal pooling in your stomach, “Neither of us died, so I call it a win…” his gaze doesn’t waver, clearly seeking to break you, “Stop looking at me like that.” You grumble, placing a hand over his eyes. 

Spencer laughs, reaching up to pull your hand away. His fingers curl around you, sliding against the sensitive skin of your inner wrist. “Like what?”

Rolling your eyes you sigh, “Come on, Handsome, don’t be coy. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

His fingers slide up your wrist, spreading out to flatten your palm. Spencer’s hands are large, enveloping yours easily as he intertwined his fingers with your own. You had spent the last 4 years perfecting the art of hiding the way you feel about Spencer. But it was impossible to hide what he was doing to you here and now.

After years in steady orbit of each other, you were finally spiraling inwards.

He keeps his right hand intertwined with yours, his other hand sliding up your torso slowly. He keeps his eyes trained on your face, watching the miniscule changes in your flushed expression. His fingers slide along the band of your bra. The texture of the lace rubs along the pads on his fingertips. He guides his hand up, breathing shakily as it ghosts over the apex of your chest. You bristle at the contact, your hand gripping his tightly in an attempt to keep your composure. 

The only thing breaking up the silence permeating the room is the uneven breathing shared between you. Spencer takes his time, tracing the outline of your collarbone. He follows the line of it, dipping his index and middle finger into the center crevice of your clavicle. Dragging his fingers up the center of your throat, his short, dull nails lightly scratching the sensitive skin. You let out a strained hum, his fingers feeling the vibration of your vocal chords. His inner thighs press against the outside of your own, reminding you of how exactly you ended up here.

Following the line of your jaw, his knuckles gently tilt your head down. He keeps his eyes locked on you, still giving you that dreaded doe eyed stare. Once his hand reaches your face, he tears his gaze from your eyes, following his fingers as he caresses the soft skin of your cheek.

Turning his hand, Spencer lets his slender fingers flatten against your jaw. His thumb runs along your bottom lip, tracing the warm skin and gently pressing into it. Watching as the color of your lips changes with the light pressure, he finally speaks.

“The reason your heart races, or you feel nervous when you’re in love… is because of the sudden release of hormones. Dopamine, Cortisol, and Norepinephrine spike, but the mood stabilizer, Serotonin, drops.” His thumb gently tugs on your bottom lip.

“Do I make you nervous, Dr. Reid?” You whisper, your lips gently pressing into the pad of his thumb. Reaching up your free hand, you gently slide it under the front of his cardigan. Pressing it into his chest you could feel his heart hammering behind his ribcage.

Spencer nods, his bottom lip fitting between his teeth as he looks up at you. His face is flushed, the heights of his cheekbones radiating heat from the blood pooling beneath his skin. Adjusting in his seat, he pulls his legs towards himself, fitting one of his knees between your legs to spread them apart.

You look at him in surprise, but he dips his gaze to watch what he was doing. He puts his knees together, placing them between your own. Spreading his legs, he hooks them around your calves, forcing you forward. Yelping, you try your hardest not to collapse into him. You manage to get one of your knees onto the mattress before he fully knocks you over. Ignoring the way his gaze lingers on your flushed face, you settle into his lap, knees on either side of his hips.

Spencer could feel the strap of your thigh holster pressing into his leg. He unclasps his hand from yours, sliding it up your knee. He finds the buckles on the two straps digging into the flesh of your thigh. Maintaining eye contact while he unclasps them, you lift yourself off of him so he can take it off easier. He discards it onto the other side of the bed before letting his hand fall back to rest on your thigh. Spencer was constantly searching your face for approval, touching you slow and simple- He always made it a priority to make you comfortable. Mirroring his other hand, the one holding your face slides down the side of your torso to cup your thigh.The pressure of his touch increases, kneading your muscles through your jeans.

Your hands rest on his shoulders, gripping them lightly as he touches you. Growing restless, you reach down to unbutton his cardigan, sliding it off of his shoulders. He assists in taking it off, throwing it haphazardly across the room. His hands return to their places, but he tilts his head a little, his lips parting as his eyes slide across your face. 

Rocking your hips forward pulls a soft moan from his lips, his fingers curling into your thighs. “I- I don’t… think we should do this…” He gasps, contradicting himself as his hands slide up to your hips, pulling you against him again. 

“We don’t have to…” You gasp in response, the stimulation only slightly dulled by the thick material of your jeans. 

“I want to- but, you’re injured.” He mumbles, leaning forward to press his lips against your collarbone.

You shake your head, sighing at the feeling of his warm lips, “You won’t hurt me.” Loosening his tie, you pull it over his head and toss it to the side.

“I could- not on purpose, but strenuous activity should be avoided during recovery.” Spencer argues, his voice weakened by the way your hips slide into his. His breath falls from his lips heavily, fanning your face as you lean in close.

Laughing, you turn your head to press a kiss to his temple, “It doesn’t feel like you want to stop.” You could feel him underneath you, already straining against his slacks. He swallows, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down. The hands on your hips tighten their grip, digging into your flesh. He keeps his eyes on you, leaning forward to press a small kiss to your sternum.

Spencer’s hands knew exactly what to do. Sliding over the apex of your hips, his thumbs pressing firmly into your soft skin. Traveling slowly up, the weight of his palms kneading your sides as the tips of his fingers find the band of your bra. The pressure of his touch lightens as he lifts his palms off of you. His fingers curl slightly, leaving just a few fingertips touching the lacy fabric. 

Reading you like a book, his hands circle around to your back. Finding the clasp, he makes quick work of undoing your bra. He makes no move to fully remove the garment, just flattening his hands against your exposed back. His fingers press into your spine, running along the outsides of it.

You slide the bra off, throwing it over your shoulder to join your shirt and his cardigan on the floor. His eyes leave yours, trailing along your skin, uninterrupted by fabric. One hand stays on your back, the other sliding around your side. The pressure of his touch lightens as he reaches your front, very careful to not disturb your injured ribs. 

His hand flattened on your torso scoops the underside of your breast, his thumb caressing the soft skin. Watching how your body molds to the shape of his hand, his lips part slightly, almost studying you. 

Spencer presses a few more kisses to your sternum, slowly making his way up to your collarbone. Your hips continue to slide against his, pulling soft breathy moans from the both of you. His noises are muffled by your neck as he presses his lips to the center of your throat. It almost hurts how badly you want him, your desire clouding over any possible pain stemming from your ribs.

Moving as quickly and as gently as possible, Spencer twists his body. He slowly lowers your back to the mattress, settling between your legs as he hovers over you. He continued to grind against you, the feeling of him through four layers of clothing was enough to drive you up the wall. 

It dawned on you then how easy this felt.

Just like everything with him, it all came to you like the most natural thing in the universe. The two of you had spent years memorizing everything about each other. You never thought it would translate so well into this situation. Then again, you never thought it was possible for you to end up in this position with him. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt, unfastening them quickly as his mouth finds your throat again. He takes his time exploring the warm skin of your neck, very gently nipping at your pulse. He takes in every noise he draws from you, filing them away in his mind with every roll of his hips. 

Just as easily as the dusk slides into the quiet of night, you turn to putty in his hands.

Trying to focus on getting his shirt off, you’re distracted by the intense way he kisses your neck. You hadn’t really expected Spencer to be so… possessive with his mouth, but in hindsight it made sense to you. 

He was possessive in other ways, always taking the seat next to you on the jet, calling dibs on partnering with you, not letting anyone else help you if he was nearby, getting pouty when your attention was drawn elsewhere. Listening to his heavy breathing as his warm, open mouthed, kisses press into your throat you’re suddenly aware of every way he’s laid his claim on you to the people around you.

To everyone else, you were his.

His hands hold your chest, squeezing and caressing the soft skin. Spencer’s teeth slowly drag along the side of your neck, biting you very gently, careful not to leave any marks where anyone would see. Your breathing comes out heavy and labored, your face scrunching slightly as you feel the strain of your ribs with each breath.

Spencer’s large palms slide down your torso after one last squeeze, finding the hem of your pants. He quickly gets your belt off, letting it clatter to the floor and unbuttoning your jeans. Pulling away from your neck. his eyes meet yours as he hooks his fingers over the hem of your underwear. He shimmies them down the length of your legs along with your pants, tossing them across the room carelessly. Pupils dilated wide, he drinks in the look of you like a starved man. His hand finds its way to your cheek, his eyebrows furrowing slightly at the pained look on your face. His thumb presses against the space between your brows, smoothing out the tension building there as your chest rises and falls heavily.

“Try to relax your breathing,” He whispers, pressing his lips to your cheek. His hand slips away from your face, the soft noise of his silver belt buckle unfastening filling your ears. Attentive kisses are pressed along the perimeter of your face, urging you to try and calm your racing heart. 

The air around you is cold, a stark contrast to the ever growing heat pooling between your legs. His warm chest presses against yours, one hand curling around your knee, the other sliding along your bare inner thigh. 

A soft moan falls from your lips, “You’re not exactly helping,” You whisper, feeling his lips press against your temple.

“It doesn’t feel like you want to stop,” He replies, throwing your words back at you as his fingers slide against your clit teasingly. You writhe underneath him, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. Trying your hardest not to move too much as his fingers slowly circle the bundle of nerves. If you move too much and aggravate your ribs, you might have to stop. His slender fingers slide along you, dipping into your entrance briefly before continuing to tease. You whine, lifting your hips to meet his hand as best as you can. 

As much as Spencer wants to keep teasing, his need to please you overwhelms any other desire that may be festering. He pushes his middle finger into you, kissing the corner of your mouth as a guttural moan is pulled from your lips. 

His thumb finds your clit, rubbing soothing circles into it as his finger fucks into you. His face remains pressed into yours, kissing along your cheekbone lovingly. Adding his ring finger, he pushes it into you slowly and allows you to adjust to the difference in size. His long, slender,  fingers slide in and out of you, the ministrations deliberate and slow. 

Despite the slow pace of his hand, the length and size of his fingers provides overwhelming stimulation. You had always loved how large his hands were, spending nights wondering and fantasizing about how they would feel touching you like this. But this was way better than any piss poor scenario you could dream up. 

Your head falls back onto the pillow, mouth hanging open as deep, breathy moans fall from your lips. Hissing a bit, you try to calm your breathing.

“Don’t stop…” You sigh out, knowing he was noticing the way your breathing changes in kind to the pain spreading from your fractured bones. Spencer listens to your request, his fingers curling slightly. The sensation draws out a loud gasp as the tips of his fingers press into you. Your hands move down his neck, sliding along his back. 

Your head swims with intense pleasure, not bothering to care about how badly your ribs hurt with every breath you take. Spencer’s name falls from your mouth like a mantra, eyes closing as you focus on not writhing underneath him. Hands pressing into his shoulder blades you pull him flush against you, feeling his hard length against your inner thigh as he pushes you closer to the edge with his fingers. 

The way he presses into your inner thigh pulls a small noise from the back of his throat. He speeds up the way his fingers fuck into you, rutting against your thigh instinctually to keep the friction going. His thumb presses into your clit, the pressure firmer as he continues to circle around it. The feeling draws out a strained moan from your lips, your hips jerking involuntarily. 

Spencer can feel you starting to fall apart underneath him, his lips pressing firmly into your neck. His soft gasps and moans muffled by your warm skin as he uses your thigh. Tightening around his fingers, your legs shake, and you mumble his name over and over. Biting down on your lip, his free hand slides just under your breast, holding your torso down when he feels your back begin to lift from the bed. Your orgasm crashes over you and the room spins, tremors vibrating through your spine.

You gasp, panting to try and catch your breath. His lips find your face again, smothering your cheeks and nose with affection as you come down from your high slowly. His desperate grinding against your thigh pulls you back to reality and you gently push on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Spencer… I need you…” You whine, your hands cupping his face. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, he nods. There’s a soft twitch to his face when he pulls his hips away from your thigh, his eyes searching yours for final approval. You nod, adoring the amber color at the center of his irises.

Gripping himself in his hand, he takes a second to slide his tip through your folds, pulling a desperate moan from the both of you. The tenderness left from your last orgasm causes you to whine and throw your head back onto the pillow. 

“Wait…” He gasps, looking up at you, “I- do you have a condom?” 

You can’t help but laugh a little, shaking your head, “I’m on birth control, it’s fine… please.” Your fingers curl and play with the long hair at the nape of his neck. 

He hesitates, seemingly working through the probabilities and statistics of not using one, but he nods. Spencer looks back down, lining himself up with you. One hand on your hip, the other wrapped around himself. 

“Tell me to stop if you need to,” He says, voice shaking with his heavy breathing. You nod, eyes locked on his features. The shadows of his face as he hovers over you are dark, seeping into the dips and curves of his brow and cheek bones. He looked ethereal.

When his tip pushes into you slowly, you gasp. His mouth finds yours, kissing you needily as he works his way inside of you. 

Spencer breathes heavily into your mouth as his fingers dig into the flesh of your outer thighs, “I… I love you.” He declares, his lips moving against yours with fervor.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, his kisses not allowing you to verbally reciprocate. You loved him. There was no doubt about that. But when he’s fully inside of you, filling you completely, there is nothing you can do to stop the way you ignite underneath him.

Moaning into his mouth, your legs shake from your earlier orgasm. He gives you time to slowly adjust, shivers running up and down his spine as your muscles flutter around him. Spencer slows down his kisses, resorting to soft presses as he waits for your signal. 

After a moment you nod, whispering a soft “I love you” and kissing him in return. With your quiet permission, he pulls his hips back. Letting out a strained groan, his lips loosely against yours, he rolls his hips back into you.

The feeling of you wrapped around him completely, your hands in his hair, your mouth against his. There is nothing that can compare to this. Nothing.

Spencer rocks into you slowly, keeping your hips pressed against the mattress. The angle is perfect, and the least likely to aggravate your rib cage. He’s fully in tune with how you feel underneath him, his hands gently sliding over your hips in a soothing motion. Feeling no need to rush, he pulls back from your lips to watch the way he slides in and out of you.

“I… I would beg you to go faster if my ribs didn’t feel like they were on fire.” You hum, your hands brushing over the perimeters of his face. His face scrunches a little and he almost slows to a stop, but you shake your head, “Don’t- don’t stop, please, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” He whispers shakily, one of his hands sliding down to press circles into your overly sensitive clit.

A whine falls from your lips at the feeling, “Yes, yes… I’ve never felt so good…” Your muscles flutter around him, the added sensation pulling your thoughts from the deep ache ringing from your torso. His lips meet yours again, one of his palms cupping the back of your hand. Pressing your hand firmly into his cheek, his mouth moves against yours in slow, loving motions. The amount of tongue he used was a pleasant surprise, his kisses never seeming to still. 

Keeping up his languid pace, Spencer memorizes the way you feel- which isn’t hard with his memory, but he files away every moan, every flutter of your core, every lingering kiss. It was all so perfect. 

The remnants of your first orgasm buzzes in your core, your entire body felt like it was on fire. You could feel yourself reaching the edge, your kisses getting sloppier and his name falling from your lips in quick succession. His hips roll deep into you, making up for the slow pace with the thumb rubbing evenly over your clit. 

His shoulders tense, the kiss between you breaking into just a sequence of heavy breaths against your lips. Hips twitching, the feeling of you around him almost unbearable as the pleasure causes his head to swim. All of the facts and knowledge constantly swimming through his mind fall silent, replaced with your soft whines and the feeling of your soft skin under his palms. 

“Spencer… god, please- come for me…” You murmur against his lips, your hands moving into his hair and sliding down the back of his neck. Your nails lightly scrape along his sensitive skin, coaxing him over the edge. It’s all he can do to keep his slow pace, lifting his face away from yours to look down at you. Your eyes are slightly glassed over, looking up at him with a pleading gaze. The eye-contact is the final push he needed, his fingers circling around your clit quickly. 

You gasp at the change in pace- the feeling of him inside of you, the length of him brushing against your sweet spot, his sweet gaze on your face all cause your muscles to contract as your second orgasm crashes over you. Spencer follows quickly behind you, groaning loudly as his hips stutter and he pushes himself into you as deep as he can. His release coats your insides, the added sensation pushing you even farther. Mouth falling open, his moans spike to a slightly higher pitch as he slowly rides out his own orgasm. 

Heavy gasps fall from your lips as the two of you come down from your high. Spencer’s lips press against yours sloppily, his hands reaching up to hold your face firmly. He pulls out of you slowly, listening to the soft whine that falls from your lips.

Overly sensitive from the two back to back orgasms, your head swims. Spencer attempts to pull away from you more, but your hands loosely capture his wrists and pull him back. Lips meeting again in a lazy fashion, your mind is in a daze, “I love you…” is softly mumbled into his mouth, your hands holding his to your face. 

“I love you too… How do your ribs feel?” He asks, kissing up the bridge of your nose.

You sigh into his affection, your thumbs rubbing the outside of his hands, “I feel great… it’s like a forgotten bruise.” Your lips pull into a sloppy grin.

“That’s because pain can be reduced by orgasms,” Is his response, pulling a soft laugh from you, “Potent analgesics, which are basically pain killers, are released in the endorphins during sex.”

“Maybe we should do this until my ribs are healed,” You hum, pressing a few soft kisses to his cheek.

Spencer laughs a little, shaking his head, “Let me get you cleaned up.”

He attempts to pull away again but you keep his hands held in your grip. You were still exhausted, your hold loose. Spencer could easily wriggle away, but he humors you with a few more kisses.

“Stay… I want you to stay.” You whine, tilting your head and kissing the corners of his mouth. “Please?” 

Spencer nods, moving to settle next to you. Being mindful of your injury, he wraps an arm around your shoulders. Scooting closer and  pressing his chest against your arm, he kisses your temple sweetly. The gravity of your connection holds your cores together in the wake of your collision.

[mochinomnoms]

i know in the leech family that its a running joke that the mc is their cleaner shrimp and i cant help but think when its finally the leech parents turn!

Imagine mc and the leech family are going out to do some family bonding and the mc causally picks off some lint or hair off papa leech or mama leech and their mood just instantly brightens :D They go like “thank you dear! Is there anything else on me?” And the parents are just spinning around happy because their child-in-law is doing shrimp things with them! (Meanwhile jade and floyd are off to the side being like “what about me D:<”)

also may I be 🪸 anon or 💫 anon?

YEEAAAAH FAMILY SHRIMP!!!

I think it's a very sweet idea! Whether it's just one of the twins or both that you've gotten involved in, they both enjoy your fretting and picking at them. Floyd most often gets your attention, as he's always getting up to stuff and messy. However, he's more prone to scrapes from basketball and burns from cooking at the lounge, so he gets lots of attention from you. Floyd loves it, he loves being taken care of for once, instead of being feared or seen as a big bad eel. He needs loving too! He needs to be treated tenderly and kindly. Floydie just wants to be loved, and who better to do that than you?

Jade on the other hand will just get dirty when hiking and foraging, but rarely get any scrapes or cuts. He might bruise here or there depending on how it went, but over all you're more likely to need to clean stray twigs, leaves, and dirt for him. In fact, you'll find Jade approaching you after his extensions, every single time, asking for your assistance. Maybe join him in the bath and help him clean up? As his cleaner shrimp? Pretty pleeease? After all, the caretaker needs some caring too sometimes.

When you eventually get introduced to the family and properly fit into your place with the Leeches, with an appropriate shrimp merform! Papa and Mama Leech are just happy that their boys have such a sweet partner. You further solidify your spot when they learn about your “shrimp” tendencies. They think it's so cute! So imagine their delight when you start tending to them like you do their sons!

Papa Leech will often find himself get into...”scuffles” after work. Normally, the family doctor would be available to patch him up, but they were already attending to a patient of theirs. Here comes their resident shrimp, offering to patch him up! You babbling about Floyd and how he always got hurt from his activities at school, so it wasn't a problem. At this point, you're practically a pro! Papa Leech has stars in his eyes, though, he has the cutest child-in-law!!! And you've been doing this for his boys, for free??!! Screw Floyd and Jade if they ever break up with you (like they'd ever would) cause Papa is keeping you in the family for the foreseeable future. Not only are you convenient, but you care for him like family, he'd be a barnacle to let you go. If you're not already married to his boys, prepare yourself, cause he's already organizing the engagement and wedding. No, he did not ask his boys beforehand.

As for Mama Leech, she's been repeated described as a worrywart, and overly cautious, especially regarding her family. I think that, since you weren't brought up in the family like her boys, would be prone to keeping you at her side. If Papa and the twins are off for “work” then you can find her snatching you up for some mother-in-law time to keep you nice and safe! This is when she gets her own version of shrimp tending, via you doing her hair and makeup! She does love dressing up and looking pretty, and is delighted when you start brushing through her hair with your fingers, braiding it and softly applying her lipstick. It's been so long since her boys were little and played dress up with her! But here you are, so sweet and soft and gentle with her! She's now become attached, if you so much as try and leave the family, Mama is sobbing and begging you to stay, while also strangling her sons for what ever they did wrong (she knows they did something the little troublemakers).

I'd say that the twins only get mildly jealous, after all, the more time you spend with their parents the less they get with you! And you're their partner!!! They suppose they should be happy that you get along so well with their parents. Except Floyd. Floyd wishes to monopolize your time and will hide you away with Jade in a dark coral nook. He called you Shrimpy first, it's his right!!!

(I will dub thee 🪸 anon!! welcome!)

[akawrites000]

casually caring for someone (2) - a prompt list

one handing the other their jacket because they're feeling cold. "are you cold? here, take my jacket."

B's jacket looks too big on A, making them look more smaller than they are. 'they're adorable', B thinks. A looks at them a little cluelessly, struggling to wear it properly. B just sighs, fond, and helps them out.

A and B introducing each other to new experiences, making each other's lives more fulfilling. "here, I got this for you"; "do you want to go there with me?"

A knows B loves sweets so gets them sweets from their hometown and B looks like Christmas came early. "are all of these for me? you're the best!!" A just smiles fondly at them, nodding happily.

A and B go out with B's friend, who walks a little too quickly. A can't really keep up, but they try, not wanting to bring it up and make the third person feel uncomfortable. B notices, walks slower to match A's pace and gently alerts their friend - "hey C, can we walk a little slower?"

one invites the other over to an activity that they know they'll like, to cheer them up, make them smile or just to spend more time with them.

giving each other compliments that go beyond the surface/looks, choosing to compliment them about their personality. "I like the way you pour your heart into everything you do"; " i don't know what it is that you're doing, but keep doing what you're doing - just keep being yourself"; "I'm able to be myself with you and it feels nice."

one staying back after their lecture to wait for the other (and sometimes pretending that they weren't waiting for a long time, to not make the other feel guilty).

A wants to host B for a change because B does that for them all the time. They're seriously amazed and in awe of B's ability to host, that they become nervous when the time comes. "hey, relax, I came here for you, so you should just be yourself."

A and B hang out at a common friend's house, and B chooses to leave earlier than A. Before they go, they make sure to tell their friend, "please make sure A gets home early and safe."

A and B go to shop for some clothes, and A waits for B right outside the dressing room while they're trying on their clothes. When B comes out, a pleasant smile pulls on their lips to see A still waiting for them. "It's your turn now," B says, placing a gentle hand on A's shoulder, "I'll wait for you right here."

A considers themselves as a soft-spoken person, they don't really raise their voice and because of that, they often feel like they're not heard, or like they have to say something more than once to be heard. it makes them really insecure and they try to be louder, but it's still hard for them to do it most of the time. B always hears them though; reacts even when A calls out for them only once and it never fails to warm A's heart.

When A and B are part of group discussions, one always makes sure that the other is heard / has a chance to give their opinions. "Hey A, what do you think about this?"; "I think B hasn't had a chance to give their opinion yet".

(y'all really seemed to like this one a lot, so here's a part 2! I hope you'll enjoy this one too <3 thank you for all the love and support 💗)

[acid-ixx]

i’m kinda curious on whether or not the reader would continue going to college after they go back to the wayne manor. furthermore, i also remember the resder mentioning a small group of friend they had, will they stay in contact with them? how do the family react to them being so close with others? dudhjew i love this series you write so well.

— masterlist !

a/n: phew i finally get to answer asks !! yesterday was insane, me and my family swam on around 5 different beaches so i was outside for more than 12 hours with no wifi and the power keeps turning off in the house due to the weather so that's that. i love writing so this is a bit longer than i expected hehe. oh yeah i forgot to tell yall that in the timeline, the mc may be bruce's third child but they're actually younger than tim as he was adopted later on.

now, to answer. i don't think bruce, as your ever-so loving father, would agree to get you back to college once you're back (kidnapped) in the manor. he wouldn't directly say it, but with your current state of relationship towards your family, with just how much time they have lost not spending it with you, it's a given that bruce, your dad, and your siblings who are feral for any ounce of attention from you, would insist that you take... a very long vacation with just them.

after all, desire is one of the stronger emotions they feel towards you, and they grapple at anything you offer towards them. but they still want you to be happy, no?

so at first, they'll let you go to your classes (though you'd be heavily monitored everywhere. who knows what bad influences scurry the area, right? barbara and tim take turns watching through the live feed of your college) but that's only if, and only if the uni's timetable allows for a flexible schedule with your family after. that means, if you're stubborn enough (which bruce understands, because "bruce! you allow damian to go to school so why can't i?!" and he's willing to give his baby the world after he finally hears them say his name) and still wish to continue the course you're working so hard for, one you had attained a full scholarship for, then go ahead!

though they can't help it when the hours they're supposed to get to know you better are taken away from them. for now, you'll have a taste of freedom before it's ultimately taken away from you.

but until then, you'll have to learn how to balance school life with family life. because even if there would be no more crappy apartment to go home to, even if you actually get a full meal instead of cheap, microwavable oven meals and dollar priced ramen, even if you still get to pursue your dream course— it's undeniable that the moment you leave your uni's doors, you'd be picked up by dick, tim, and even your youngest brother damian fucking wayne driving the car, to be escorted back to the manor strictly after classes. during the night, should you ever overstay for projects, it would be jason who'll greet you and allow you to ride his motorcycle; though that's only permissible if you have updated them a day before that you wouldn't be home before the curfew bruce has set up for you.

sometimes, it's your father who makes an untimely appearance with his well-known persona, brucie wayne. he'll greet all the people who pass by with a teethy smile, his big hand holding your stiff shoulders after he kisses your cheeks as a greeting. if you're out the door with your friends - friends who knew of your history of neglect, who told you they would always take your side - then he'll shake their hand, introduce himself with a charm that makes them question if what you've told them is true.

he presents himself with such an aura that's harmless, as if him and your other siblings who are spying by a bush aren't incapable of taking all friends down with just a punch to their face shall one of them speak up or dare tease you in front of them.

unfortunately for you, even some of your friends would be truly convinced that your father wasn't the same man you've told your lifelong stories about neglect. not when he makes a show of running his hand through his baby's head to comfort them whilst he talks to them, not when he cloaks your shoulders in his own work suit to make sure his child wouldn't feel the chilly weather, not when he takes all the time in his busy day to pick you up from school as he should've done all those years ago.

but who would believe you when it's obviously known by the public eye that bruce loves his child, (name) wayne?

you know it's all fake, and it's scary for you, that he simply was able to make a cover up story to the journalists that his child's lack of presence to the public is him merely wishing to shield them from the disgusting media, no?

now that you're older, he says, he would want to make a show of his undying grip over you, that his gleeming eyes that hold multiple threats towards the people in your campus is simply his overprotectiveness as your father, that if they ever harm you or dare question your family's overprotective nature towards you; they'd be gone by the very hands that sworn to protect gotham.

it's all fake, you tell yourself.

but what isn't false are his intentions to make you feel like you're part of the family now, no matter how much you kick, or fight, or scream; they'll always remind you that you're loved and always will be. it's both an apology and display of affection towards you.

it doesn't matter if your uni is on the other side of gotham, you're always coming home to them and that's final. at least you know they still have an ounce of empathy for you to continue having friends (and a boyfriend that they've no knowledge of, yet), as long as they heavily monitor you...

... what you don't know, though, is that the moment you've fallen into the hands of danger— your father wouldn't hesitate pulling you out of college and instead settling for homeschooling. you have brilliant siblings, after all, and a father who had trained all over the world.

that's why hangouts with friends are unpermitted, you soon discover that only trying to beg bruce to at least be more flexible with your friends would only lead to even lesser chance of trying to find escape in your already stuffy life.

and don't even dare throw a tantrum about preferring your friends over them. if you even go as far as calling one of your friend's parents as an even better parent than bruce could be, that your friends are people you consider actual siblings, then you've guaranteed yourself a one way ticket to being locked up in the manor, permanently; with your father and your siblings, especially damian, trying to prove themselves that, no, you didn't just fucking say that, take it back.

you're going to witness a personal breakdown from damian. because no way do you prefer those scum over him! he's supposed to be your favorite, who are they to take his place?! you love him, you love them, you wanted attention from the family, didn't you?! you wouldn't be able to comfort him because he'd already wear his robin suit, ready to eliminate any of your friends who are younger than you because they don't deserve to be seen as your younger sibling, no matter if you had just blurted that out as retaliation for an argument.

what you had just said is serious, and bruce and dick wouldn't even try to stop that kid from slashing someone in broad daylight; dick choosing to cry and refusing to let you go from his arms as he babbles on about his delusional baby bird, trying his damn best to not let his temper get to him, trying so hard to not choke the ever living shit out of any of your older friends once you confess calling anyone of them your older brother— because him, jason, and tim are supposed to be the only ones you consider your older brothers, babybird!

hell, even tim and babs are already on the monitors ready to give damian each and every one of your friend's individual locations.

bruce especially, would be heartbroken that his child called someone else their father. that's his title. you calling him father, or dad, or papa, or any language that describes him to be your parental figure is the only thing keeping him sane. he hates it when his child only calls him bruce as if to describe a mere stranger, to which he knows he is to you— but it sounds wrong and it furthers the ache in his heart— and it's even worse if you chose to call someone else a father, chose anyone else than him as your dad.

batman is even more cruel in his patrol after your argument, punching the living hell out of any male criminals, picturing your voice playing over and over again calling them your father instead of him— it only makes him perceptive of jason's moral code. because what if you have fallen into the hands of anyone but him before he had come to take you back? he knows he isn't the best, was never there for you until now, but fuck, he needs to make it up to his child, and getting angry at you only worsens your already severed bond with him.

so you may expect a punishment, but it's already punishment towards you when you're now isolated inside the manor with only the presence of your siblings to comfort you throughout the nights where it gets too lonely during patrol time. bruce would have more than an hour long talk with you in his study, forcing you to confess every single thought you have about him and your siblings. he tells you it's all unrecorded, that there's no cameras to watch over your one-on-one confrontation— he just wants his baby's opinion on everything so they could adjust to your every whim, but really, it's all just a matter of them wanting to dive deep into your very thoughts like the invasive creatures they are.

the worst part of it all, is that nobody even dare mentions the names of your friends and their respective family. they listen to anything you say, because you already barely talk, but the moment you mutter about missing them, the topic would be shunned down by something, anything else. whether that'd be damian deciding that his older sibling should paint with him, or dick inviting you to watch him perform his acrobatic stunts.

it's a distraction you know you're susceptible to, because they all wish to take your thoughts away from those scum, as damian calls them, and instead have you focus on them, your actual family. those people are nothing to you, now that they're out of the picture.

... you should've chosen to be homeschooled instead of unintentionally getting your friends killed.

[rosiesmuts]

Conviction

TWICE Sana & Mina

Words: 4,800

The moment they walked through the door you knew you were in trouble. Sana and Mina. The pair waltzed in like they owned the place.

And frankly they did.

When you're that famous, you're set for life as long as you do the right things and look good doing them. So those two were definitely doing that. They owned the party by the very act of walking across it.

Now what's life without a little danger? So you gave yourself a pep talk and did the opposite of everything your gut was telling you to do. It was stupid—completely and utterly stupid.

You went up to Sana and introduced yourself for no other reason besides the fact that Sana seemed like the more personable of the two.

"And who might you be?" Sana looked at you quizzically, like she couldn't have a single memory that could associate to you if she tried. It was the exact thing you expected, yet her overwhelming persona sent an arrow through your heart.

"I'm just the help." You joked and did a pretentious fake bow. Sana bursted out with laughter and your fake confidence went through the roof.

Perhaps it was your boldness, but Sana seemed to take a liking to you because soon she introduced you to Mina, and now the three of you were having quite the time.

The night wore on and you found yourself ever increasingly convinced the world's sweetest duo were looking for fun—and a little danger.

That smile you swore Sana flashed your direction every time the opportunity rose. Sometimes she would stroke and squeeze your forearm for no reason—just cooing something about how muscly you were when you questioned it, or when she'd send a wink that burned through your chest the more she looked.

Mina was much more subtle, clearly the shyer of the two, but she wasn't above being sly. Her gummy smile flashing every time you told unfunny jokes—a certain purr lacing her voice whenever you said something that should have garnered no such reaction. The slight hooking of her arms through yours and the intense stare that followed. The final coup de grâce was when she elegantly pressed her juicy peach right up against your crotch and whispered a cutesy 'oops!'—her pink cheeks giving away the actual intention of the whole ordeal.

That one you didn't need help with understanding.

The phrase that reached your ears when the party came to an end is one you will never forget.

"Room 102015," Sana whispered, cupping your groin for just a second with a wink before hooking her arm into Mina's—the glorious view of their backsides swaying side to side as they walked off without another word.

—

It took nerves of steel, but now you're finally here. Two knocks at the door of room 102015 across an achingly quiet hotel lobby that reaches back into the endless corridors of a penthouse.

"You made it..." The door is open just slightly ajar, a tantalizing gap as much a mystery as the dark veil between Sana and Mina's hotel door. A sweet lilac aroma emanates from inside, the door opens wider and wider until...

They're both there, standing there, just as beautiful as you could have ever pictured. Still in their fancy party clothes—expensive as hell and looking the part. Not a smidge of hair out of place, makeup pristine and perfect smiles plastered over their faces. You swear you can see Sana's bare shoulders glowing from the fluorescent lights, a single bead of sweat glistening under her collar.

"Follow me," Sana whispers, leaning into your space, and placing her hand into yours. Sana guides you, giving you a small glance back with a mischievous grin, those brown eyes giving way to a cheery twinkle you'll be more than happy to let drag you further astray.

"You must be wondering why you're here..." Sana already has Mina's straps off her shoulders when she says it, a quick and practiced motion she seems all too used to. "We just thought... maybe we could play with you for a little. Just the two of us... and you. Is that okay?"

A dim-lit penthouse bedroom lies astray ahead of the two, and your gut twists with so much more than butterflies. Two Japanese angels eye you and stand in wait, and you'll be damned if that isn't a look meant to seduce.

You'll follow. No matter where Sana and Mina go, you'll follow. It could very well be into the depths of hell, and you don't think you could care any less—not with them standing before you with looks so sweet and mischievous you wouldn't hesitate for a moment.

The question is mere rhetorical, Mina's dress slowly gets peeled further away by Sana's soft, pale hands. Every piece of flesh she reveals makes your chest flutter harder and faster—another part of her body for your eyes to crave and desire.

"Ooops..." Sana giggles, licking her teeth as a sliver of Mina's lingerie is revealed. Dark black silk contrasting her porcelain skin is enough to make anyone lose their heads. The lace and tightness leaves next to nothing to the imagination as her smooth tummy leads your eyes further southwards.

Sana reaches back and gives Mina a light spank and a squeeze for good measure. An indignant, embarrassed moan erupts from Mina's lips. "Look..." Sana says to you, with a sinister and impish look as she caresses Mina's flank, squeezing one of her cheeks like a thick pillow, then turning the shy girl around. "Look at how meaty Minari's ass is."

There it was, Mina's tushy, bared and flaunted right before you. A lacy g-string frames Mina's ass in all the right places, leading to a slender waist and a gorgeously wide butt that quivers the longer you stare. "Well...?" Sana coos, "do you like it?"

"I'm embarrassed..." Mina murmurs and Sana responds with a cheek pinch, then a playful little swat that doesn't seem to faze her in the slightest, save from the subsequent jiggle and subsequent whimper that fills the air.

"Just what were you planning tonight, Mina? Were you wanting our boy to see how naughty you are?"

You still can't manage to make a sound, unable to even understand just how you ended up in a place like this. You'd have imagined getting this close with any celebrity would be a near impossibility.

"Wanna know a secret?" Sana teases and hooks her fingers into Mina's waistband—the final piece of fabric keeping her from being fully exposed. "Mina might be all proper and cute, but deep, deep down... she loves being put on display like this—just begging for some attention. Don't you, baby?"

"Sa-na..." Mina whispers, and the only sign you can detect is the barely noticeable flex of her buttcheeks and thighs as you watch it. She looks over her shoulder, eyelashes fluttering—looking into your eyes and never once breaking contact while Sana finally tugs that fabric downwards and gets a moan from her best friend.

Her meaty rear quivers and jiggles as she's revealed and Sana's hands give her a tender pat with a mirthful laugh, "Yeah! Just like that!" Sana cheers and grips the cheeks apart, making Mina yelp and bite her bottom lip—it's clear they're not strangers to one another's bodies.

Mina shakes her booty from side to side, almost too close to believe. How soft those plush and fluffy pillows might feel in your hands, the prospect of sinking into her ample rear is almost as tempting as it is mad.

"Come here. We won't bite. Unless you want us to~" Sana gives a teasing giggle and Mina does her part, holding her hair over her head and striking a sexy little pose. With how seductive they were being, it's as though she really were asking to be looked at.

Not that it took much convincing to get you over here, but there was no stopping the speed you raced towards the girls as you practically pounce upon the chance. Your hands graze her supple, firm rear, sliding lower and lower—more than ready to embrace her full backside with a touch that ached for her, all this time.

"Oh? Wow. Look at that..." Mina makes a sultry laugh when she glances over her shoulder and sees a raging hard-on that struggles within your pants, "What are you going to do with that?"

Sana seems to be quite the helper, unbuttoning your pants and tugs them down. In seconds you're half naked in their company and every pair of eyes is staring straight at that raging beast. You didn't even have time to fully process just what was going on before Sana wraps her lips around it, squeezing you in her grasp—the warmth is delightful and unbeatable.

A quick and dirty blowjob—a minute at most, but by the gods it was just what you needed. Sana knows her way around a cock, so good in fact she barely gives you any time to react. When she pops off and sees the confused and pleasured face you wear, she just laughs and beckons her girl-crush forward. "C'mere, Minari. His cock's nice and ready for you now."

With an unsure sigh and a blush so adorable you'd go so far to call her shy, Mina bends over the bed. Her full, perfect butt presented at eye level, and her back so gorgeously curved into the most seductive view you'd ever laid your eyes on.

"Go ahead. You wanna fuck Minari don't you? Come get a piece of this fat tushy of hers."

Your hand comes down against her fat backside, a tentative attempt at spanking the perfect idol before you. When she responds with a soft yelp and a pout directed your way, it's all the confirmation you need. Another slap—you spank her and marvel at how quickly she gives in and wiggles her buns.

Your tip is lined up, slowly sliding down the length of her cleft, soaking in Mina's warmth and that incredible, aroused breath that rolls out from those lips of hers. If that's not the perfect indicator, nothing is—with a last squeeze to Mina's backside, you gently press forward and ease your tip in.

So much heat and warmth, every inch you penetrate Mina feels as though it melts a bit more of you away.

Sana runs her fingers down Mina's body. Starting from that thin neckline of hers, past her shoulder blades, and a caress of her arched back, finally down to her full bottom where you continue to feed Mina every inch that's her due.

"Can you feel him in you, Minari?" Sana teases and purrs—making circles and gently rolling against Mina's plump cheeks and making the horny idol stifle a breath. You can't believe what's happening: having the goddess of your fantasies wrapped around your cock and begging you not to stop would be too much of a temptation for the devil himself.

Your first thrust is a shallow one, just enough to feel that pleasant resistance she has, but also enough to give the shy Mina something that made her moan like no tomorrow. That perfect ass rolls back to your next movement, driving you further within the confines of her narrow and oh so tight walls.

The lewd look and lewd smile upon Sana's lips make the pleasure you're feeling much more intense than before, your free hand digging into Mina's asscheeks as the other tangles into her hair and holds her like reins to a horse. Mina bites her lip—face contorting, her breathing grows more ragged as the bed starts to squeak the further you push into her.

Mina starts to whine, unable to hide a slutty smile—her teeth clamping onto her bottom lip.

She moans like an angel, and her body undulates along your rhythm. "Fuck me please. Yes! Just like that... Oh, god I didn't know it would feel so good..."

Those pleading whines are the most arousing sounds that you've ever heard—satisfaction can't be ignored now. This is as close as heaven can be, with that petite little thing bent over in the most perfect, ideal, and lewd positions with a dripping wet mess of a cunt begging you to continue.

Every push is a slap against her full bubble-butt, one that makes her and Sana grunt, or moan—whichever sounds louder as you're swept by an unmistakable rush. Faster, quicker, a feverish pace to pound the sexy little diva that begs to be taken, and Sana does her best to encourage the behavior.

"Good job. Nice and deep." The petite Japanese girl strokes her lover's hair—cooing all the while as Mina is worked raw, your hips crashing into her big meaty booty like a stampede and pounding away at her insides with wild abandon.

"After Minari cums..." Sana starts to unbutton your shirt—her hot, impatient and eager hands taking no time to caress and run down your chest. "...It's my turn." Her voice lowers and she leans in. Your lips meet her sweet ones for the first time, and the hungry little minx is practically salivating—droplets of spit coat your lips—letting you take just a tiny taste of the sweetness you knew her lips hid.

"Mmm fuck…" Mina moans and pulls your attention away from that oh so tempting kiss. Your hips pick up, working overtime—Mina's groaning, squirming, her breaths coming in faster and harder the closer to her limit you bring her. "Right... there! Keep going!"

The breathy, sexy moans that grow louder and louder each time your hips smash against hers brings a clarity to this scenario—of how an absolute goddess needs your cock inside her like life itself—how Sana caresses and traces your shoulders while your focus is completely absorbed on Mina and how tightly she squeezes your shaft.

Mina holds in a scream, unable to do anything except cover her mouth as she is rocked back and forth with a furious and wild passion. Everything starts to quiver: her legs, her thighs and belly, every inch of her flesh tenses and coils until that tightly wound knot is released—there’s no stopping Mina once that limit is surpassed and she finally begins to cum.

The prim and proper princess who strikes fear into any and all men is shaking and moaning louder than anyone could ever imagine her being. Her orgasm is hard enough to leave the normally elegant and collected singer a drooling mess upon the sheets. Her sweaty bangs cling to her forehead while her hips bounce and shake while her heavenly liquid flows out.

Sana gently moves to guide you away from Mina's welcoming entrance, a giggling chide telling you to give Mina a little bit of time to rest.

"My turn now," Sana says with the wettest, cutest, and most unhinged tone she's ever used. Her lips come down on yours like the strike of a viper—her tongue snaking and wrestling with yours, drinking you in and stealing as many breaths as possible.

When she pulls away, there's nothing slow about how quickly she undresses. Unlike Mina, she had no qualms at throwing everything aside while leaving her body as the centerpiece to everything you wanted. Her fingers inch their way through her swollen clit—her small feet lift up one at a time, shuffling out her lacy thong.

"How do you want me? Doggy style, missionary?"

This woman will be your undoing, of that you are absolutely certain. The eagerness with which she asks leaves no space to comprehend a world where a drop of resistance comes from Sana.

"How bout I ride you? You spent a lot of energy fucking Minari didn't you? I could ride you if you'd like."

You'd be a fool to say no. Your back meets the bed as Sana straddles your hips, guiding her beautiful form upon yours and grinding her wet folds.

She takes a moment to pause—to make sure she has your attention. Looking deep into your eyes, the pale and pretty Sana smiles before holding your shaft and lifting her hips high, angling herself just right.

Sana slowly guides herself downwards—just enough to allow the slightest pressure, letting you sink into her hot cunt. You feel it too: the little shivers and rippling muscle tension—her wet hole contracting as her soft petals spread themselves and greet her new lover.

"Nice and slow. I'm gonna enjoy this." There's a musical tone to the way Sana moans, as though the simple sensation of your meat is enough to send the happy girl to the stars.

Her slow descent into pleasure does little to subdue the reactions her body shows, the way those well trained, dancer's thighs tense. Her lips shiver, and her lower abdomen, full of tone muscles clenches. You can tell: the second she relaxes is when your cock slides into the warm paradise that Sana is.

"Grab my tits." Sana takes your hands and guides them to her waist—gently dragging the edges of your fingers over her shapely figure. You find a tender spot on the underside, and immediately start rolling and twerking her nipple between your fingers.

Sana's always so well behaved for an idol, she keeps her lust well hidden—now, you watch as the oh so precious idol whimpers as her nipples are pinched, pulled, and tweaked by a mere nobody she found at a random party. A common plebeian like you are absolutely in no way worthy of such a gorgeous specimen that was sitting on your lap.

Sana rolls and shakes her hips, while your head tilts upwards to lock eyes with the seductive and utterly radiant woman as she pants and grits her teeth—dragging herself back up just a little, then eases down, fucking you nice and slow and keeping you steady the entire time.

A smack to Sana's pale and perfectly plump rump makes Sana squeak and giggle with delight. Every bounce and hop she takes is a test of your willpower and the last bastion to your impending loss of self-control.

"Hang on tight. Gonna really start fucking you now..." Sana rises, only your very tip is nestled in those soaked velvet walls, you groan the moment she drops and stuffs that dick back inside her tight, hot, and heavenly snatch. Sana repeats, raising herself—almost to the very brink until that delicious, dizzy moment when her hips collide back down.

Watching those bouncy, full tits jump and shake with every downward thrust sends your heart beating out of your chest. Every bit of her is unreal, so much more than just some attractive lady: it's the stuff of the gods, so enticing, so precious and sexy.

And just when you thought you couldn't handle anymore, a graceful ballerina seems to have regained her energy. Mina climbs on top of your face, her freshly orgasmed snatch oozing and dripping all over the lower half of your face, begging to be tended to.

And you certainly don't mind, no, not at all, with two soft thighs closing down around you.

"Eat me out." Mina's tone is soft and cute, a huge contrast from the dirty words that come out of her lips. Yet she has a right to command it—she looks down, her smile warm, her thighs squeezing against the side of your head.

You give her folds a long lick, she's still sensitive from her previous fuckfest. Just a simple little swipe of the tongue seems to send Mina squirming over your head—even for an idol, it'd seem like Mina has more sides to her than even you can keep up with.

"Your tits are so fun to play with!" Sana reaches around for Mina's tiny rack, never stopping her bouncing even as her head leans in to suck on Mina's neck.

She fucks you like her life depended on it, her hips not relenting for a moment—they pound and thrust at a fevered pace, moving at an absolute machine gunning rhythm of carnal pleasure. Either one of these beauties would be enough to satisfy you for the rest of life, and now you have both at the same time, a dream come true you didn't imagine you'd get a taste of.

It doesn't take long for Sana either, her sexy little noises reach a fevered peak—that giddy laugh of hers being swallowed by a stifled moan.

"I'm gonna cum. Gonna cum..." Sana whines and warns, grinding her hips into your pelvis at a crazed, fervent pace. Mina feels your tongue writhe into her at a similar pace, moaning right into your ears—a symphony of mutual orgasms coming closer and closer.

The bed squeals and quakes at an unholy level, it's a surprise no one comes rushing into the room by this point. Mina's fingers tangle themselves into your hair and pulls, coming closer and closer to the sweet climax—squeezing your skull tightly while rocking back and forth.

"Fffuuucckk. Yes, just like that."

Your legs buck and flex, the air is sucked clean out of your lungs—these two idols are in a race against each other to see just which one could cum harder. You're an observer caught in the middle—right in that final moment before it all builds up and erupts.

Sana's stomach is the first to tighten—your eyes snap open the very moment you feel a final squeeze, a climax ripping right through her sweet sexy body as she freezes atop you, her eyes closing while a final, shaky exhale rolls right off her lips. A single droplet of sweat travels down the corner of her forehead and lands upon her cheek.

Her hands pinch and squeeze Mina's dark brown nipples—it's like a switch that Sana seems all too familiar with and all too fond of tuning, as Mina follows right after, spasms rolling right up her belly the instant she receives the painful jolt.

Mina gasps, and the orgasm runs rampant throughout her body—her cheeks puffed out in a soft O-face, her eyes glazing over as her inner walls crush and wring your tongue.

They have you completely at their mercy, two tight cunts holding you hostage while they both ride that post-climax bliss.

As the orgasm subsides and their muscles loosen, they each roll off of your body. Mina's bare flesh rests by your side, and she slinks closer to you with a look you've never seen from her. You could swear it's something akin to love, but the warm smile that crosses her expression is quickly covered when her lips meet yours for the first time.

"Amazing... you really are amazing, you know." Her hands trace your chest and her feet brush against your legs, almost like the idea of personal space isn't present. She feels soft and warm, like home.

"He really is." Sana interrupts by leaning forward and pushing her lips to yours with a heated, urgent passion, tasting Mina's juices on your tongue and shuddering in joy at how it rolls around your mouth.

"Now..." The pair slink down on the bed until they're face to face with your cock. You've almost forgotten that you still haven't released, but are quickly reminded as two tongues slowly lap their way up your shaft while two pairs of hands rub and caress every inch of your thighs and stomach. "Let's give our boy something nice to think back on."

Mina giggles and takes the first dive. Her hot mouth is followed by her hand pumping the shaft in a languid manner, swirling and kneading your balls as they get nice and wet. She's lost in her work, making little moans as she gently sucks on the skin—bobbing up and down before pulling back with a satisfied pop of the lips. "You love it when Minari plays with your cock, don't you?"

"I'll take it from here." Sana reaches forward to pinch and squeeze the head and tip, then quickly follows by shoving her face close and slathering it in wet kisses, moving down the length, trailing her tongue over every little ridge and detail, a sense of urgency to get all she can in her mouth. Her hot tongue swirls, slathers the very tip while she holds Mina's hand still—sharing a smoldering look of the utmost desire, you could see the mischievous wheels turning.

They're both on your cock, licking from base to tip, holding your head between their lips as their tongues duel to see who can pleasure you more. Sana wraps a hand around Mina's face and pulls her close, and their mouths collide and move, suck and lick away—until finally their lips join together and form a circle around your tip, sucking and lashing in the most deviously skilled blowjob you ever have been and will ever receive for the rest of your life.

Nimble tongues move against you at a rapid-fire speed, giving everything they got and barely slowing even as you grunt and grow nearer. That heat, that wet feeling is too much for you to bear. The strain that had been kept under lock and key has finally broken and is about to release itself.

Fingers quickly massage and squeeze whatever spot they can reach, tugging at your sack, massaging your legs, their kiss still unmoving—despite how messy they seem to get. Saliva and fluids and God-knows-what-else makes them messy.

It hits, and your body jerks, the rush of pleasure spreading right through your nerves—and right into the wet kiss those two Japanese women share, cum spurts right into their waiting tongues as they roll around your head. They swallow, almost by reflex—pulling away, the thick strings that connect them look incredibly erotic before they quickly revert back to kissing and sharing your load.

They don't let even a single drop go wasted—licking and caressing one another in a sensual display.

You can do nothing but simply fall onto your back—all that energy spent, but with not a shred of regret left in your mind.

Two world famous idols, Sana and Mina, fuck and service a complete nobody.

"Delicious." The words slip off from Mina's mouth as a line of white clings to her swollen and saliva-ridden lips, Sana is a quick one, making it vanish in the blink of an eye as the sticky substance is slurped right off.

Mina gently rubs circles onto your leg, never letting that pretty smile fade. Sana's fingers trail a path around your chest before nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder.

"How was it? Fun? Did you have fun?" There is a lighthearted and pleasant smile to the beautiful idol you are currently tangled with.

"I had fun. Lots of fun." Mina answers for you and mirrors Sana, who nestles into the other side. Their lips press and hold to your neckline and chest, trailing hot kisses from the side to front and back, nibbling and playing with your flesh as they are enamored and drunk on your after-sex fragrance.

It's difficult for your heart not to speed up when their faces are right next to yours—their hair tickling your shoulders.

"Get lots of rest. Round two in the morning. I'm sure Chaeyoungie will have tons of things to do with you." Mina whispers into your ear before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Sana merely smiles and closes her eyes with a mischievous twinkle—her fingers draw slow and soft patterns across your skin and gently guide you to join those two into a deep and heavenly slumber.

You've landed yourself in heaven, there is nowhere else better to be.

...What a hell of an experience.

And so the most insane night of your life comes to an end—but with a promise that this adventure is nowhere close to being over.

You're definitely going to need some rest…

[domsaysstuff]

Okay so this idea has been rocking around my empty skull for some time now just we know that Eddie can be a pretty mean DM and a shithead and I've been thinking abt romances in D&D and how it would work in Hellfire

And I had this thought that Eddie would like be "no romances!!" to the Corroded Coffin group (before the kids joined) and they're like why? and Eddie just to tease them says that he doesn't want to pretend to fall for their smelly ugly faces

Which just motivates them to try and seduce like every character that Eddie introduces for a fucking month and it leads to the creation of the rule: Every romance/seduction directed roll must be rolled above 15 to succeed AND if Eddie decides that the attempt is particularly bad the roll is with disadvantage

The Corroed Coffin boys are obviously teasingly like ohhh so we get an advantage if it's good?

"Doubt that would happen boys, but sure, if you make me, Eddie fucking Munson, to blush like a fair maiden then you'll get the advantage on the roll"

They try, they really do, but all the CC boys succeed in doing is killing off all of their party in three sessions and Gareth who is a little shit is actually rolling his third character (because the consequences of a failure are fucking brutal) by the time Jeff and [unnamed freak] give up

After that they know better (except Gareth who still sometimes does that just to annoy Eddie and be a little shit) to try and then the kids join Hellfire and Eddie has even less of an desire to flirt with fucking Wheeler, Henderson and Sinclair (they're baby children!!)

But the kids are a little shits too and they see Gareth being a little shit so they copy

It ends badly for them, they gripe about Eddie being unfair because like "all three of us have girlfriends Eddie and you don't so we clearly know more about romance then you do" Dustin not only gets a flick on the head for that but his character might have ended up being put into situations™ throughout the session that are "totally unfair!"

But fair to say all of Hellfire knows the rules and all of hellfire knows that no matter how well they try and how smooth they are (they really aren't ever smooth) Eddie will not blush or even consider they attempts as "good", the best they got was "tolerable" (Lucas got it and he's still very proud of it, as he deserves okay?), Eddie is impossible to fluster and so it's just is this fun thing they sometimes do when they feel particularly like little shits

And that's it about it

Until Vecna and all the upside down shit and the surprising friendship of Eddie and Steve happens

And suddenly Steve Harrington is not only sitting but playing D&D

Everything is going actually pretty good and Dustin practically vibrates out of his chair at how proud he is of Steve for how well he is doing so far and then

And then Steve tries to flirt with a pretty bard

Dustin deflates, he is ready for the absolute disaster that is going to fall upon Steve, he makes eye contact with Lucas - both of them ready with "it was actually a pretty good line tho!" at the tip of their tongues to defend Steve's decisions, he doesn't know Eddie's special rules after all and it would be funny to see Steve fail, sure, but it's Steve's first game and the kids wanted it to be good for Steve so convincing him to play again would be easier

But now Eddie is going to absolutely rip into him and Steve will never want to play again and-

"Roll with advantage" Dustin gasps, audibly, loudly, the room is silent, except for Steve who's very unaware of the chaos he just created and just rolls the dices, his usual confidence in place

And if someone looked closely - and all of the hellfire is fucking looking - Eddie Munson has indeed a light blush on his face

[writersdrug]

COD men period comfort? 🥺

The way my period started right as I finished this... also, I have Endometriosis, so I wrote this with the idea that periods are very heavy and painful for the reader, sometimes making them bedridden. Shit's rough 🙃

CoD Headcannons: Comforting You While You're on Your Period

Fluff, slight nsfw, mentions of cramps and blood, mentions of fingerings, no "period? What's that?" behavior, these men are all educated, mentions of food anxiety, female anatomy

Captain John Price

If this was a competition, Price would be the winner. He doesn't need to look at your tracker app to know it's around the corner, he recognizes the signs immediately. As soon as you begin to dissociate for more than a minute or two, accompanied by your grumbles of how you've been craving junk food lately, he knows it's coming.

He's very intuitive when it comes to your needs. He knows you'll want to call out of work the first few days, so he does it for you. That way, you won't be stressing over it the night before. He plugs in your heating pad (leaving the setting on off, for now), so it's ready when you need it. He fills your water bottle with cold water, he fills the nightstand drawer with iron and protein laden snacks, and he puts a fresh box of your preferred pain medication in there as well. The bathroom is stocked with pads/tampons, and he even makes sure that the remote to the telly is on the nightstand.

He forces you to stretch every morning. It's the one time he ignores your protests and drags you out of bed, insisting you would feel much better - and he was right every time. He'd have you sit with your feet pointed forwards, bending your back until you could touch your toes.

"Gonna join me, John?"

"Psh, you know I'd snap like a twig, love."

Then he'd have you on your hands and knees, kneeling beside you and slowly guiding you to stretch your arms and arch your back, keeping your bum in the air (let's be honest, he doesn't kneel behind you for this because he'd be keeping you in that position for a different reason). He'd have a hand on your lower back, whispering small praises as you groaned from the relief. Once you were in that position, convincing you to get up was another hassle.

He understands that you can have mood swings - he always reminds you that communication is best, and even if you aren't sure what you want, you should still talk to him. Let him know if you're feeling too overstimulated, if his presence is a bit too overbearing in that moment, or if you want him there - whether that's sitting in a chair next to the bath while you take a soak, his hand running over your hair, or if he's cradling you in bed, hands gently massaging your abdomen/lower back.

You feel a bit silly, sometimes - being treated like a porcelain doll. As you promised him you would, you communicate with John that you feel bad that he's pampering you so much, and that you can't exactly return the favour at the moment. He'd listen, never shushing you or interrupting you, and at the end of your venting, he'd assure you that not only is this his obligation as your partner, but it's also something he enjoys doing - looking after you when you need it most.

As for making it up? "We'll explore what options there are when you're feeling up t' it" (He's talking about ovulation week).

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You tell Gaz when your period is coming. He's not as intuitive as Price, but he appreciates that you let him know, and he helps you plan for the next few days. You go shopping together, stocking up on snacks, meds, and Liquid IV (Gaz had originally introduced you to it, and now it's an essential when you're on your period).

He once bought you a period massager that you found online. You thought it was the best invention ever, with both a massage and a heat setting, but it never could compare to Gaz's hands. You eventually ended up putting it on a shelf in the closet after telling him through tears, all while he massaged your stomach, that it felt like you were replacing him, and you hated it. You wanted to throw the damn thing away, but he convinced you that you might change your mind later.

Gaz treats this time of the month like it's the most normal thing in the world. Of course, he pampers you, giving you cuddles when you want them and helping you through the emotional shipwreck in your mind, but he knows you don't like feeling like you're helpless. So he does it all in the most nonchalant way possible. He'll play video games with you as the both of you lounge in bed; whenever you want a snack, he grabs one for himself (partially because you mentioned once that you don't like eating by yourself, partially because he's always hungry).

He refers to your period in different ways each time it comes around. "Is it shark week?" "I got you some more tampons, babe, for the ritual." Or, his favorite, when he sees you scowling at your period tracker app: "Ya got mad cow disease again, luv?"

He'll watch true crime with you per your request, but he's not thrilled about it. You've had to correct him multiple times that it's not about the killing, it's about the mystery of solving each murder that intrigues you. More often than not, you'll look up from where you're laying on his chest, and he'll be watching the telly with a grimace.

"What's wrong, Kyle?"

"It was the landlord - guy looks fishy, and his alibi is shit."

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

Johnny understands what a period is - he's a smart man. However, when it comes to your cravings and raging emotions, he's like a devil on your shoulder. If you thought you were impulsive during this time of the month, he only adds fuel to the fire.

He comes back after a trip to the grocery store, announcing that he purchased everything you need for the next few days. The "everything" in question? Crisps, wine, and candy (your favorite candy, sure, but not much chocolate). You don't have the heart to tell him that, while you enjoy all the snacks and alcohol he bought, it's not necessarily the best food for your period - although, the part of your brain that was craving it was thanking him over and over.

You would be lying on top of him on the sofa, the telly playing a show that had been neglected by the both of you. He'd be rubbing your lower back with one hand and massaging your scalp with the other, listening to you as you tearfully explained how much you missed your childhood family dog, a husky named Janet.

"- and she was so cuddly and protective- *sniff*- and she- did I tell you, she used to howl when I cried, like- like she was crying with me? God, I miss her-"

"Sweetheart, why don' we just get ye a pup, eh? A husky, just like Janet, and ye can both howl together whenever ye feel like it."

"No- *sniff*- no, Johnny, we shouldn't-"

"Why not? It'll keep ye company when ah'm away. Ah've always wanted a pup myself, y'know."

It really didn't take much more convincing than that. The next day, Johnny was walking into the flat, holding a husky pup cradled in one arm, and a bag of dog toys and food in the other. You had already forgotten his suggestion to get the dog, and would have scolded him for being so impulsive, but the cuteness aggression had already set in. You squealed and ran over to Johnny, crying happy tears between peppering his face with kisses and cooing at the puppy. He had the proudest smile on his face, seeing how much happier you looked compared to the day before.

Oh, and if you tell this man your breasts are sore? He's running across the room, fast enough to break the sound barrier, to offer you a helping hand (or two).

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon has to remind himself that, when you're on your period, you don't always think logically. He's extremely patient with you, but he isn't the best with words. Or, rather, he isn't well-versed in the backwards rationality that comes with your period.

"Simon, can we get Chinese?"

"Sure, luvie, if you want it."

"Will you eat some?"

"Honestly, 'm not really hungry. But we can get what you want."

"... no, I'm ok. Nevermind."

"Wha'? Why not?"

"I don't need it."

Simon still doesn't understand why you won't eat without him, but he knows not to question it. He does, however, order your favorite takeout anyways, and he'll feed it to you if you still insist that you don't want it. He may steal a bite or two if you let him.

Like every good partner, he understands what a period is, and he understands the pain and frustration it causes you. He's still never entirely sure of how to help you, and he often doubts that he's being helpful at all. But that's where his military experience came in clutch: you tell him what to do, and he does it. You want to cuddle? "Scoot over f' me, luv." You want time alone? No worries, he can do some of his own work, just shout if you need him. You're running low on tampons and medication? He'll drop whatever he's doing and run to the corner store for it.

Massage KING, and he doesn't even know it. He huffs and says you're just trying to flatter him when you tell him how good at it he is. He treats you like you're in a spa, too: he dims the lights, he makes you wear an eye mask, he'll turn on the fan because he knows you love the white noise... he'll kneel behind you as you lay on your stomach, and this man will deliver the most tender, slow, and soothing massage of your life. His hands are already so huge and warm, and he somehow flawlessly works you into a drooling puddle each time.

He can't lie: seeing you there, passed out and snoring, no longer complaining about your aches and pains, fills him with just as much pride as it does relief. He's happy you're feeling well enough to rest, and that he's the one to get you there. He'll slowly get up, covering your lower back with the heating blanket, before leaving to replenish your thermos with tea.

König

Whenever you mention that your period is coming soon, he always panics a little. König is a strong soldier, not bothered or phased by much. But when it comes to you, he hates knowing that you're in pain, and that he can't do anything to fix it (despite how often you assure him that he's helping).

This man goes all out. He fills the fridge with healthy, colorful fruits and vegetables, meat, and a pitcher of your favorite drink. He has your heating pad ready to go by your bedside, along with two thermoses, one of hot tea and one of ice-cold water. He sets up a small tray in the bathroom with tampons, pads, fresh underwear, and even a few pairs of shorts. He has a fan in the corner of the room, pointed at the bed and ready to go if you need it. He even takes off work for a few days - he refuses to leave your side when you're in pain.

Like Ghost, he likes being told what to do. If you ask him to turn on the fan, to turn off the lights, or to refill your thermos, he's up and doing it before you can finish your sentence. He hangs on your every word like it might be your last (you'd think with how he acts while you're on your period, you might be dying). He snuggles you every second you're in bed, and despite it being a bit warm, you don't mind the constant affection.

He cooks for you no less than twice daily, and this man can COOK. In no way, shape, or form does König skimp on seasonings and portion sizes when it comes to you. He carries you to the kitchen and sits you on the counter so he can keep an eye on you while he prepares you a hearty, nutritious meal (he needs to make sure you're eating well, schatz, but he'll let you scrounge for lunch, if that's what you really want). Sits with you at the dining table and holds your hand while the both of you eat, listening to you talk. If neither of you have anything to say, or if you're dissociating, he'll just sit and enjoy the silence with you, occasionally brushing your hair from your face and leaning over to kiss your cheek.

Sometimes, he'll do some of his work in bed with you, if he absolutely can't put it off any longer. You were once snuggled up to him, half asleep in the crook of his arm as he typed away on his laptop. He would occasionally rub his large hand over your lower stomach if he heard you groaning in pain from your cramps.

"Schnuki?"

"Mm?"

"Do you want me to finger you?"

That just about made you bolt upright like a rocket. "What?!"

He pointed to his screen. "Everyone says it makes you feel better, no?"

"König, um..." You didn't hate the idea, but didn't he? "I thought you were working?"

"C'mon, liebe-" he closed his computer and put it on the nightstand, rolling on top of you. "Relax for me, I'll make you feel good..."

Please just let this man take care of you and tell him he's doing a good job, it's all he wants.

[haitani-maki]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮

𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙳𝙾𝙽’𝚃 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃

Contains NSFW links ⚠

It is just headcanon, you're free to disagree, just stay respectful

English is not my first language

💿. °bf!rindou that his love language is words of affirmation and actions

💿. °bf!rindou that sends you a lot of songs

💿. °bf!rindou when it's just the two of you, he expresses his feelings for you

💿. °bf!rindou who likes to drink with you, he always chooses the best drinks. It's okay if you don't drink, he just wants your company

💿. °bf!rindou that shows you multiple strokes, he gets excited as you look at him

💿. °bf!rindou that like to go to the gym with you but he understand if you didn't want to

💿. °bf!rindou who plays your favorite songs at home or in the club, you are the best on the dance floor

💿. °bf!rindou that takes you to various places in Roppongi or that you like to go to

💿. °bf!rindou sometimes you gotta take a drunk Rindou home

💿. °bf!rindou that looks like he's going to hit someone at any moment, but he's actually polite to some people

💿. °bf!rindou be patient with him, Rindou has many complaints about older Haitani

💿. °bf!rindou who is a good listener

💿. °bf!rindou who usually calls Ran "aniki", he once blurted out a "nii-chan" when you were together and he was embarrassed. He denies it whenever you bring it up

💿. °bf!rindou who spoils you buying gifts, he likes to see your shine whenever you're happy

💿. °bf!rindou who likes to sleep cuddling

💿. °bf!rindou he smells really good

💿. °bf!rindou he  likes movie nights with you, he has introduced you to many films

💿. °bf!rindou in Bonten, you would have many security guards, he just wants you to be protected. He would decrease security if you felt uncomfortable

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou will rub your pussy when you sit on his lap

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou will fuck you in inappropriate places, he likes to take risks

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou loves it when you ride his fat cock, you look so beautiful on top of him

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou will make you cum with just his fingers, he loves fingering you

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou definitely eats pussy like a champ

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou thinks a little spanking never hurts

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou you'll get what you deserve when you behave like a brat, that's the moment when his kindness disappears

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou loves to fuck your throat, prepare your jaw

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou make out sessions always

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou morning sex, he gotta have the breakfast of champions

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou is going to make a complete mess of you, cumming all over your body

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou has nothing against toys, he will use them on you

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou loves seeing you a messy, tearful squirming underneath him

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou overstimulation and BDSM, y'all got a safe word

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou pet names, praise and degradation

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou will put you in positions you didn't even know were possible, it's never boring with him

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou that will mark you, especially your thighs

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou who prefers butts, likes to slap and squeeze soft flesh, it's a great pillow that he claims is heaven on earth

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou that everything around him ceases to exist when he hears your moans, surely it's his favorite song

🍶 ˖ ֗ ࣭ ⋆bf!rindou loves their body, knows every corner of it

⚠These videos don't belong to me, credit to their respective owners

twitter - twitter - twitter - twitter - twitter - twitter - twitter - twitter

©Reblogs are welcome, do not copy or translate

[bettsfic]

Betts. how do I stop feeling jealous of everyone and everything and just focus on myself? I'm tired of being comprised of nothing but envy.

story time:

so i was recently at Millay, which is one of the top artist residencies in the country. they have an acceptance rate of something like 3%. when i was shown my room, there was a packet of all the residents' artist bios. i sat down and read through all of them. most of them were like half a page in length, single-spaced, listing out accomplishments i could never dream of. one artist had won a guggenheim. one author had published 12 books. another author published her first book at 19 years old. these were people who were extremely well accomplished and respected in their fields.

and we all became very good friends!

and then there was me. my bio was 3 sentences listing out a couple short publications and awards and other residencies i'd done. and my honest to god first thought was, "wow, the jurors must have really liked my writing to have accepted me among all these great artists."

and my second thought was, "that's the healthiest thing i have ever thought."

i had no jealousy of their accomplishments. even though my career hadn't even begun compared to theirs, i didn't attend dinner that night with any impostor syndrome. and that confirmed for me that i had grown out of whatever place i used to be in as a person, where i was basically a raw wound wrapped in barbed wire. everything hurt me and i hurt everything in return.

jealous feelings come from an intense need of external approval, but as i've mentioned in other asks, approval and validation is a well that gets filled over time. at our introductory dinner that night, i didn't talk about my work in the hope of convincing everyone i deserved to be there, which was what i would've done a few years before. instead we all ended up talking about a TV show. the most highbrow place i've ever been in my life, and we're getting wine drunk and discussing at length a cheesy discovery channel reality series. the guggenheim winner: loves box turtles. the guy who's published 12 books: his favorite movie is Spirited Away. the girl who published a book at 19: reads One Direction fanfic. the well-lauded poet: old school tumblrina.

actually, 4 out of 7 of us read fanfic and we had some great conversations about it. sometime i'll tell you about introducing the co-director of the residency to AO3.

when you think of the most accomplished and successful writer you've ever read, remember that they are, at the very core of their being, a nerd. and if you were to eat dinner with them, you would, with enough polite inquisitiveness, be able to unlock the goofy side of them that binges Property Brothers.

so that was the big change for me, i think. i started asking a lot of questions. i stopped talking and i started listening. it seems counterintuitive that admitting to not knowing stuff shows confidence, but it does. pretending you know stuff is what looks insecure. i think for me, i put so much of myself in my work, i wanted my work to be lauded so i could feel accomplished, and feeling accomplishment would let me believe i deserved to exist. but over time, i've reframed that mentality. my work is a thing that exists beyond me and is private to those who read it. it comes from me, but it is not me. what i am is just the person i am, and my life is a series of moments i choose for myself, and i am allowed to exist.

even sending this ask shows that you've begun filling your well. it takes someone who's already come a long way to realize jealousy isn't the status quo and is a feeling to be overcome. and you can overcome it. you can reach a place where you have enough success that other people's success has nothing to do with you, and you're free to just be happy for them. and when you read work that's better than yours you feel joy at learning something new.

so put your work into the world and let it be rejected. you'll rack up a couple wins or close calls, and those will give you energy to be rejected some more. and eventually you'll be rejected so much that rejection doesn't feel like anything, and you will have won enough to realize your work has a place in the world, and that place is no bigger or smaller than anyone else's. your work is allowed to exist simply as it is, and you are allowed to exist simply as you are.

[natailiatulls07]

Pen Pals

Oscar Piastri x Female!Reader

Summary - Strangers to pen pals to lovers

Warning - Cuteness overload!

Reader works in redbull as a media girl

-

Hi there,

I'm Y/n and I'm excited to write you! I've had a few pen pals in the past but none have really worked out.

But I digress, maybe we should start by introducing each other with a few fun facts; I love formula one! I am and will always be a cat person, having two cats of my own and my favourite past time would have to be finding and trying new recipes which either works or becomes a disaster, there's no inbetween!

I look forward to hearing about you and hopefully we'll get on well with eachother!

Yours truly,

Y/n

-

Dear Y/n,

It's lovely to meet you! This is my first time so go easy on me! I loved reading your letter and found it quite ironic as I am also a big fan of formula one.

A few facts about me is that my favourite film is 'ten things I hate about you' even though my friends always tease me for it. My favourite formula one driver would have to Oscar Piastri, next best rookie since Hamilton in my opinion.

Who's your favourite driver? And which team do you support??

Yours truly,

Oscar

-

Dear Oscar,

What a coincidence! I would definitely agree that Oscar Piastri is a great driver, espercially after winning a sprint in his rookie year! But however, I am a Max Verstappen girl through and through so that also means I'm a redbull supporter as well. But I have respect for each and every other driver and team!

I don't see how your friends can tease you about your favourite film, it is a iconic late 90s film with a stunning cast! See picking a favourite film for me is hard! There's too many to pick from like paddington or pretty woman or even oceans eight!

So what gotten you into starting to write pen pal letters??

Yours truly,

Y/n

-

Hi Y/n,

Yeah with my job I find that alot of the people I talk to are very fake and greedy. I felt as those if I just starting writing letters to someone I could keep an anonymous identity. I hope you'll respect that, I'm sure you will!

Don't get me wrong I love my job, it's something I worked my whole life for. But it feels some what suffocating sometimes.

What about you? You said that you've had pen pals in the past but none have really worked out. I can't see why though, you seem lovely and have a great taste in sport!

Yours truly,

Oscar

-

Dear Oscar,

Understandable. I promise to remain respectful and I won't pry. I think a pen pal is the perfect way to step away from our lifestyles, it gives us someone that won't judge and you can realise to them.

I started writing to pen pal when I started college. I moved away from all my friends and had a rocky break up with my boyfriend at the time.

So from then I tried to find the best pen pal. But believe it or not, not many people start a pen pal to talk to others and hear others but to just talk about themselves.

A pen pal relationship should be equal and not one sided so often those relationship will have lasted just under two months. But lets not dwell on the past.

Wait important question now! What is your zodiac sign?? It tells you alot about a person.

Yours truly,

Y/n

Time skip a few months -

Hi Y/n!

Just read your last letter, loved your descriptive story about your now sister in laws hen party! I need to see those drunk photos immadiately.

My summer break just started, I have a lot of down time and not a lot to do. Please do you have any suggestions!? I have a feeling that I'm going to spend my summer moving between the gym, my apartment and my local store.

How did the date with that guy go? Was the trip to the jungle mini golf really worth it? I remember I went on a date once, we went to a nice restaurant and by the end of the night she was black out drunk. WORST DATE EVER!!

Yours truly,

Oscar

-

Dear Oscar,

I would give you suggestions on what to do this summer. However just like you, my sofa becomes me seconds home after my bed. Well actually every summer me and my bestfriend deciated a day to binge watching all the Harry Potters! We go all out, getting themed snacks and making a fort out of blankets.

Oh my god! The date was horrible! All he did was talk about his family riches and how 'successful' he is. And to add salt to the wound the place was filled with whiny children. NEVER AGAIN!

Also I've add the photos from the hen party to the envelope, non of them have my face in it but you can see that the bride is enjoying herself.

Yours truly,

Y/n <3

Photos in the envelope -

-

Hey Y/n,

Looks like the hen party looks as exciting as it sounded! Send my crograts to the bride and groom please.

I'm sorry your date went like that, I hate rich snobs who just glot and I work around them a lot lol! A girl like yourself doesn't deserve to be treated like that, you deserve fancy restaurents and meaningful date. I know I would give you the world.

Harry Potter marathon?? Mmm doesn't sound like a bad idea, I might rope my friend into then, he's british so he'll feel right at home!

Anyways I've been thinking...over these last few months I've grown to trust and adore our little letters back and forth. And I was wondering if you wanted to exchange numbers or something, idk.

I'm actually in Barcelona next week for work, but we can arrange something if you wanted. I just feel like I'd want to put a face to a name and exciting personality!

Yours truly,

Oscar

-

Hi Oscar,

The world huh? Thats a bold statement...

Wait that ironic! I'm also in Barcelona next week, we could meet somewhere. I can't really do Thursday through to Sunday, that's when my work really starts.

But yeah we can meet at some coffee shop or something, I seen some nice recommendations on tiktok recently.

I'm actually really excited for this! I've never had a pen pal that actually worked out, let alone wanted to meet me, so I feel lucky! Yeah these letters have been fun to write, it's like I've learnt so much from you. Thank you so much!

OMG did you watch the last f1 race in Montreal?! Oscar Piastri, Max Verstappen and Daniel Ricciardo podium! I'm sooo proud Piastri, he is slowly but surely moving up and competing with Verstappen for my fav driver! There I said it!

Yours truly,

Y/n <3

-

Dear Y/n,

Is Piastri growing on you Y/n?? Ooo that's exciting! But you wouldn't want to disappoint the current world champ, his no 1 fan is going to the dark side!

I would definitely give you the world! In a heart beat actually, you've single handedly made me feel normal and human again and I am forever thankful for that!

So you're working Thursday through Sunday...the exact days that formula one is active in the same city. I feel bad for you honestly, I'm sorry...

How about we meet up on the Wednesday? Should we meet at the three marks coffee?? I've heard great things about their coffee!

Meet me there at 1pm! I actually can't wait! See you then!

Yours truly,

Oscar <3

Outside the cafe -

Stood just outside the cafe, Y/n fiddled with her bag. She didn't know why she was so nervous, she would trust her pen pal Oscar with her deepest darkest secret if needs be.

Busy was an understatement. And Y/n knew fully well why, it was the reason why she was here this week. Formula one. Being one the media girls at redbull meant that she had to attend every race, not that she was complaining.

Just down the street was Oscar, walking head held high and a large grin on his face. He was beyond excited to meet the mysterious Y/n.

When they both began sending letters to each other, they agreed that neither would pry for surnames, addresses and other personal details.

The one thing they decided to do today was dress in all white, making it easy for each of them to pin point each other.

Oscar approached the cafe, his eyes scanning the area for a women dressed in all white. Until he spotted her, it was love at first sight!

He was obsessed with how she stylied her hair, and what she decided to dress like considering the white rule. "Y/n!" Calling out her name, as he made a quick walk towards her.

Y/n could hear her name being called and when she turned she came face to face with the one and only Oscar Piastri smiling down at her. A gasp broke through her lips, surprised that he was her pen pal.

"You're my pen pal?" She asked in disbelief. The Australian driver nodding his head excitedly. "You let me hype you up about your driving and didn't tell me?"

They both broke out into laughter. "Yep! And I loved it!" Oscars face held a cheeky grin, that Y/n instantly fell in love with.

-

After settling down in a small secluded table just outside the cafe, Y/n turned to Oscar. Her face now holding a cheeky grin. "Is now the best time to tell you that I work at Redbull as a media girl?"

Now it was Oscars turned to look shocked, shaking his head in disbelief.

"So you're telling me we've been right under eachothers noses the whole time!?" Neither expected that they were in reality quite close to each other whilst they were sending letters back and forth.

"What are the chances? Right?"

"Fancy leaving Redbull and join me in Papaya? maybe then Oscar Piastri will be your favourite driver..."

"Oscar!"

-

[kissoulie]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒

𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧

— NSFW, MDNI. being in love with jongseob ♡

warnings: idol!seob, fem terms (princess, good girl), not proofread, i finally use y/n 💔 i caved at the texting bit

nsfw: fem-bodied reader, very mild daddy kink, degrading (whore, slut), exhibitionism (with verbal participation), some grinding, lmk if i missed anything

a/n: jongseob u will always be my first love 😭😭😭 idk how happy i am w this but i wrote it while listening to my playlist of songs that are so Jongseob, so there is clearly some Influence here i hope u all enjoy the appetizer, entree, & dessert 🫶 dedicated to @kisseobie rosa u are my inspiration

1. encounters

jongseob is the type of person who can get along with anyone. he'll find a topic, and he'll engage. it's like a routine to him. but with you, he was genuinely so, so excited to talk to you. maybe it was a little creepy he'd peered over your shoulder, but he immediately recognized the orange from plastic beach, and wanted to know which song you were listening to.

"that's a good one, do you listen to a lot of gorillaz?" he smiles at you, watching your expression go from taken aback to relaxed. "yeah, they're one of my top artists every month."

"kim jongseob, nice to meet you." you smile back at him, and jongseob suddenly believes in love at first sight. his stop is soon. "what's your favorite song by them?"

"definitely rhinestone eyes. i know it's super popular, but it's for good reason." your gums show when you smile, your body fully turning towards him so you can offer him one of your earbuds. "what other kind of music do you listen to?"

jongseob misses his stop. he gets lost in your proximity, swapping recommendations and adding each other on spotify. you two have been chatting for what feels like forever. he never wants this moment to end, "oh, this is my stop.."

the disappointment in your voice breaks his heart just a tad. you frown at him, bumping his head with yours on accident, "i was going to listen to it with you, but i really think you'll enjoy afraid by the neighborhood. and here's my number, i wanna know if you like it or not."

jongseob doesn't just like it, he loves it. he lives it, too. he doesn't have the courage to text you that same night, but the next morning, he adds your number to his contacts.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

hey, it's jongseob, i loved afraid it rly captured how i feel sometimes lol. text me when u get the chance, i wanna see u again

jongseob types and deletes that last part many times before ultimately deciding he should be honest with you.

y/n

morning jongseob! you're up super early haha i would love to see you after work today :) <3

2. enamored

jongseob falls fast, but you fall harder. he's aware he has many faults and flaws, and he works hard to be the best he can be for you. he is the type of boyfriend to make you many playlists, for every difference occasion. he's a date saver. he will celebrate one month, two months, three months... every month. he loves you. where soul's love is subtle, calming, and attentive; jongseob's love is energetic, warming, intense.

jongseob's love is an inferno. he assimilates you into his life seamlessly. the first step is introducing you to the rest of piwon, which goes well considering he talks about you all the time. then he's inviting you to shows, his studio, dance practice (which the members love since you always bring them snacks), rehearsals. he even wants to bring you on tour with him. he knows he can't, but he wants to share his life with you. all of it.

he sends you sooooooo many pics while he's on tour. pictures of where he is, what he's seeing, him. he misses you so much while he's away, he's calling you as often as he can.

he definitely sleeps on call with you while he's gone. and begs keeho to let you sleep over when he gets back. it's not like you'll be able to do anything with soul in the room... but, you know, bribary works in mysterious ways.

3. erotic

jongseob was never above bribing soul to leave for a while so you two could be alone. it's not like he's a kid anymore, but with you not living alone, between the two places the dorm was the better one.

over the course of their tour, you've both been teasing each other like crazy. you, sending him pictures of you in his tshirts, your body, texting him late at night.

y/n

seob i can't wait until you're home :( i'm desperate to have you inside me

seobie 🤍

baby i'm about to go on. you can't be making me hard like this

y/n

it's not like you're here to punish me though :(

[attachment]

seobie 🤍

god i'm gonna fuck you so good when i get back

y/n

but i need you now daddy

seobie

2 more weeks baby, i'll be home before you know it ❤️

he was indeed home before you knew it. by then you were so desperate for him, you jumped him the moment he closed the door to his shared room. you let him pull you onto the bed with him, whining into his mouth the whole way. "patience, baby, sho's still here."

"i don't care! i need you," you started kissing down his neck as an incentive, knowing he could never resist once your hands pressed against his abs. "besides, it's nothing he hasn't seen before."

ah, yes, shota's only incentive to not rat you out to keeho and get you kicked from the dorms: sometimes he gets to watch (and sometimes he gets to join).

jongseob sighs as you slide up onto his stomach, grinding yourself against him desperately. "let's get these shorts off you first, princess."

he pushes you up by your thighs, taking off your shorts and panties in one go. "alright, baby, set yourself back down."

you push his tank top up. god, how that drove you crazy. he squeezes your hips in reassurance while he slowly slides you across his abs. "fuck, seob-"

your moan is caught with a breathy sigh. relief washes over the both of you, "that's it, pretty girl, ride me. get yourself nice and wet."

the rasp in his voice soaks you even more. you start grinding on your own, picking up the pace. he flexes, and you tense, "so close, fuck"

jongseob stops you with a hand on your thigh, getting out of his own shorts, and pulling his tank top over his head. "think you can take me without prep?"

you nod, pulling your own shirt off. he carefully lines himself up, then sets you down. the moment he slips in is pure bliss for you, "such a good girl for me."

"seems like she's a desperate little whore for you, actually." you whine hearing shota's voice, involuntarily clenching around seob at the degrading words.

"you don't know what you're talking about, sho. she feels heavenly." jongseob nuzzles into your neck, hands pawing at you desperately.

sex with jongseob is oftentimes desperate. he gets pussydrunk very easily. he'll spend hours between your thighs, eating you out with purpose, until his dick is so hard it hurts, and he can't wait another moment to be inside you.

he'll make you beg for it. not for long, but just enough for you to get teary eyed. he has a small thing for you crying for him. he was already a bit of a perv before he met you, but ever since you first had sex he's been... corrupted, almost.

taglist: @tkooooop, @haolovre ♡

[jakesangel]

how it would be like to date w high school jake ꣑୧ - requested

overall jake was/is nerdy n popular, his good grades in physics n his perfect scores in football made him known as the sim jaeyun who wanted to do music / somehow ?ᩚ / because of that i think he had lots of friends n was also popular w girls.

football player

- he would often ask you to come to his games or even to his practice, wanting to show you off his skills but also showing YOU off to his friends

- would be the type to kiss you during practices, everyone cheering him up

- would even fake injuries so you could take care of him n makes u kiss him

please, come see me at my game, you're my lucky charm bb, he would say the day before the tournament final, a small smirk on his face. if you'd say no or pretending that you won't, he'd take your hips in his hands, forcefully pully you closer, i like to see you in my jersey, i need to see you in it to win. please bby, as his voice goes lower, almost coming out like a murmur. as you finally asgreed, he'd smile would come back, giving you a quick peck before running towards the fields.

physic genius jake

- lots of study dates ᵎᵎ jake doesn't like to study but is naturally good w number so if you struggle w them he is more than willing to study to help you. either at his place or yours in his favorite because it can also means having fun later whereas in the library he has to stay focus

- would be so so proud of you when you get good grades thanks you his teaching n your hard work

- he would do project w you only, leaving his also-not-good-at-science friends calling him a simp

violin player jake

- he would ask you to come over during the weekends to see him practice his violin.

- he would learn your favorites songs n surprise you during those practice.

- he would even play it for you during anniversaries knowing it made you happy.

outside of school jake

- he is busy but will spend them as lunch time w you as possible meaning he will prioritize you over his friends n will make sacrifices towards his football duties for you.

- lots of dates during school break n love going to the beach w you, his friends, n your or dates w layla as well ᵎᵎ

- he would introduce you to his family n you basically be apart of them w the number of time you'll come over so that means lots of sleepovers or even so inviting you for xmas n such ᵎᵎ he would also expect you to do the same for him, as family is very important to him.

want to come to dinner with my family baby ? my mom misses you n layla too, he would often ask you, only meaning that he misses you, studies n football practice tqking too munch of his time. as you read thru him, n accepting, he would be happy the rest of day, completely forgetting the english test he has later that day. but yk my mom really does loves you, he'd add w a pout, i think she love should more than me. she always wants me to give your her cookies and omg layla can't get calm down sometimes. he would keep on nagging until he can't pretend anymore, and you know i miss you too, my princess. i can't catch a break lately n i might pass out lacking of vitamin U.

notes : haii anon i hope you enjoyed it ᵎᵎ i tbh felt a bit uncomfortable talking about minor jake, i hope it's still good nonetheless <3

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @stwrjvke @amouriu @neos127 @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll @heeheeswifey @sjylouvre @txnwvc @oopshee