#I WAS SO EXCITED TO FIND OUT WE SHARE A BIRTHDAY

[xxspringmelodyxx]

260~

Gojo x F!Reader (Angst)

I hope you all enjoy! (I needed this okay. Especially after the newest leaks ToT)

Warnings: Violence, that’s about it…I think

______

I sat on the ground, looking down at the photos of me and Satoru together. Memories began to flood my mind like a relentless tide as I looked at them one by one. I ran my fingers delicately over the glossy surface of each image, reliving the moments captured within.

There we were, laughing under the soft glow of streetlights, his infectious smile lighting up the night as we lost ourselves in each other's company. I could almost feel the warmth of his kisses against my skin as I traced the contours of our intertwined figures, frozen in time.

Memories of our cherished dates danced across my mind, each one a symphony of laughter, whispered promises, and stolen glances. Whether it was a simple stroll through the bustling streets or an extravagant evening under the stars, every moment spent with him felt like a precious gift.

But it wasn't just the romantic gestures or grand gestures that endeared him to me. It was the way he poured his heart and soul into everything he did, especially when it came to his students. I could still hear the passion in his voice as he spoke to me of his duty to protect and guide them, his eyes alight with determination and compassion.

And then there were the quieter moments, the ones where we simply existed in each other's presence, finding solace in the simple act of being together. His strength became my anchor, his unwavering support giving me the courage to face whatever challenges life threw our way.

But now, as I sat surrounded by these memories, a bittersweet ache settled in my chest. For all the love we shared, for all the moments we cherished, he was gone. And in his absence, I was adrift, lost in a sea of grief and longing.

Tears streamed down my cheeks yet again, marking another day of relentless sorrow. Six months had passed since his death, yet the pain felt as raw as ever. The moment I received the news of his passing, a wave of numbness washed over me, leaving me paralyzed in its wake. It felt like someone tore my heart out and ripped it into shreds. Since then, I haven’t been the same. It’s been a struggle just to eat and sleep regularly. My eyes are extremely hollowed out due to crying every day. My hair is a complete mess since I can’t care enough to do it. Our once shared home is a wreck as I am too weak to move to do anything. I just feel so…hopeless.

I am lost without him. People try to reach out, they try to check up on me to see how I am doing. I am forever grateful for them. But despite their well-intentioned efforts, each and every time, they are met with silence as the weight of my sorrow burdens me too much to speak at all.

As I continue to look at all of our shared memories together, out of nowhere, the sound of something falling to the ground caught my attention. I looked across the room to see a necklace had fallen. It was the one he had bought me for my birthday. It was the last gift he had ever gotten me before he died. I crawled over to it, holding it carefully in my hand. It was a gorgeous 24K golden necklace that had a locket on it. Inside was a photo of him and I kissing on our first anniversary. I still remember the day he gave it to me.

***

The air was alive with anticipation as I unwrapped the small velvet box he had presented to me on my birthday. His eyes sparkled with excitement, mirroring my own as I lifted the lid to reveal the gleaming gold necklace nestled within.

“‘Toru…It’s beautiful,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper, overwhelmed by the love and thoughtfulness he had poured into the gift.

“I wanted something special for my special girl,” he replied, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes as he fastened the necklace around my neck. The warmth of his touch sent shivers down my spine, a gentle reminder of the depth of our connection.

As I admired the delicate craftsmanship of the locket, he reached out, gently turning it over to reveal the polished surface within. “And there’s more,” he said, his voice tinged with excitement. “Open it.”

I looked down to look at the heart shaped locket. I carefully pried it open, revealing the treasure hidden within – a small photograph of us, captured in a moment of pure happiness on our first anniversary.

My breath caught in my throat as I beheld the image, a rush of emotion flooding my senses. "Oh, Satoru," I whispered, my voice thick with tears. "It's beautiful."

He smiled, his expression tender as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to my forehead.

"Every time you wear it, I want you to remember this moment," he murmured, his voice soft with emotion as he brushed a stray lock of hair from my face. "No matter where life takes us, you'll always have a piece of me with you."

His smile, so full of warmth and affection, mirrored my own as we exchanged glances, the weight of our shared history imbuing each moment with a sense of timeless bliss.

With a gentle kiss pressed to his lips, I whispered my gratitude, knowing that this precious gift would serve as a constant reminder of the love we shared, a beacon of hope in the midst of despair.

”I love you, Satoru Gojo~” You spoke

”And I love you more, Y/n soon to be Gojo.~” He spoke, making you giggle a bit

***

I stared at the necklace, my hands trembling with a mix of anger and despair as the memory replayed in my mind like a relentless nightmare. Everything we had shared, everything we had built together – gone, all because of that arrogant, vile Sukuna. If it weren't for his twisted machinations, Satoru would still be here, his arms wrapped around me, his laughter filling the air with warmth.

The injustice of it all burned like a raging inferno within me, fueling the flames of my anger until it consumed every other thought. How dare he rob us of our happiness? How dare he tear apart the life we had built, leaving me alone in this desolate void?

With a sudden surge of power, I lost control, the energy within me erupting in a violent explosion that sent objects hurtling away from me. Furniture toppled and shattered, the very air crackling with the force of my rage.

As everything around me began to float in the maelstrom of my emotions, I realized that my anger was a force unto itself, a storm raging within me with no end in sight. And in that moment, I welcomed its embrace, for it was the only thing that made sense in this world of shattered dreams and broken promises.

Quickly, my tears came to a stop and my eyes became dull. Everything got silent and all I could hear was my breathing. Amidst the chaos, a newfound clarity emerged. I had nothing left to lose, nothing left to fear. Satoru's death had stripped away everything that mattered to me, leaving behind only a burning desire for vengeance. My final mission was clear – to hunt down Sukuna and make him pay for the pain he had inflicted upon me.

With grim determination, I rose from the wreckage, my eyes blazing with purpose. No longer bound by the constraints of fear or doubt, I embraced the darkness that lurked within me, channeling it into a single, unwavering purpose – to avenge the man I loved, no matter the cost.

___________

As weeks passed, my relentless pursuit of Sukuna led me to a scene of utter devastation. The air was thick with smoke, the acrid stench of charred debris assaulting my senses as I surveyed the destruction that lay before me. Buildings lay in ruins, flames licking at the remnants of once bustling streets. The ground was littered with the lifeless bodies of innocent victims, their silent screams echoing in the depths of my soul.

But amidst the chaos, I spotted him – Sukuna, the architect of this carnage, his presence a malevolent shadow looming over the shattered landscape. Anger surged within me like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf me in its fiery embrace as I took a step forward, my eyes fixed upon my target.

Before I could unleash my fury upon him, a sudden attack from the shadows sent me reeling, the impact driving me to my knees. As I struggled to regain my bearings, a figure emerged from the darkness – Uraume, her eyes gleaming with malice as they bore down upon me, intent on snuffing out my life before I could enact my vengeance.

But I refused to yield, drawing upon the depths of my power as I met her onslaught head-on. With a telekinetic force born of desperation and determination, I countered her every move, the air crackling with the intensity of our battle. Each blow landed with the force of a sledgehammer, the clash of our powers sending shockwaves rippling through the war-torn landscape.

We lunged at each other, hitting our fists together with the same amount of force. In turn, a large burst of green light blazed throughout the area, catching Sukuna’s attention. He turned and saw Uraume and…you.

“So, his little love has finally decided to show up. After all this time?” Sukuna’s voice dripped with contempt as he surveyed the scene. With a smirk, he turned on his heel, confident that Uraume would handle the situation.

Uraume and I both flew back into the debris, the ground trembling beneath us as we struggled to rise. With swiftness, she got back on her feet and rushed towards me, her eyes ablaze with fury and determination. But I refused to falter, drawing upon the memory of Satoru’s love and the burning need for justice that fueled my every action. With a final surge of power, I unleashed a devastating wave of telekinetic energy, causing everything around me to rise in a whirlwind of chaos. I sent all of them flying towards Uraume, causing her to stop in her tracks. One by one, debris and rubble soared towards and surrounded her, encircling her in a ring of destruction to prevent her escape.

“You dare try and stop me?” I advanced towards her, my voice dripping with menace as I surveyed her trapped form.

She tried to escape once more, but I plunged a large pole down right through her arm, pinning her to the ground with a sickening crunch. I curled my fingers, causing the pole itself to curl around her body so that she couldn’t move. She writhed in pain, feeling the cool metal sink and expand in her skin. However, through the midst of the pain, she couldn’t help but find herself forming a crazed smile.

“You can’t do this. You won’t do this! From the beginning I showed up, I’ve observed you closely, analyzed your every move to ensure your defeat. I know that you’ve always advocated for alternatives to violence, for solutions that don’t end in bloodshed. If you kill me, you’d be going against everything you believe in. ” She said, trying to hide the little tremble in her voice.

With a flick of my wrist, the metal pole tore through her leg, silencing her cries of pain.

”That was before you both took what was once mine.” I spoke with venom.

I walked up closer to her, making her bow down to me. My hand tilted her face up towards mine, making her see the hurt and anger surging through my eyes.

“Even if you do kill me, if you go against Sukuna…you will meet death.” She said, coughing up blood. I knelt down to her, unfazed as a single tear dropped down my face.

“I already have. When Sukuna killed my ‘Toru.” I spoke.

”Let me show you what it felt like.” I said, raising my fingers, causing the pole to bend any way I wanted it to. It rose up just above her chest, pointing towards her heart.

A few seconds passed by of pure silence as I watched Uraume stare at the pole with unease. I then snapped my fingers, causing the pole to run straight through her heart, ripping it to bits and pieces. Her breathing hitched as she felt the air slip away from her body. She looked at me with fearful eyes, but they were met with dull and lifeless ones.

“Goodbye, Uraume.” I spoke, standing to my feet and walking away. Her body slowly became limp as she felt her body go cold, her life slipping away second by second.

Now, all that was left was the sound of cackling fire and wind. Nothing else.

“I must say, I am surprised, little one,” Sukuna’s gruff voice cut through the tension like a knife.

I looked up, my eyes meeting the gaze of the man I had been hunting relentlessly. He stood tall, a menacing figure looming in the distance, his presence a dark shadow cast over the devastation around us.

“It’s a shame really. About Gojo, I mean,” Sukuna continued, his words dripping with malice. “He almost had me for a moment there. But it turns out he never could win against me. It was so enticing just watching the life slip away from his eyes, watching him realize that the almighty Gojo Satoru had met his final end.”

The image of Gojo’s demise played in my mind like a cruel mockery, igniting a firestorm of rage within me. The thought of Toru being all alone, dying… it was too much to bear. I moved my hand up to feel the necklace Toru gave me around my neck, holding everything in to not get distracted.

“What’s the matter, little one? Can’t handle the loss of your lover? Come on, It’s not like you lost everything.” His words were like daggers, each one driving deeper into the wound of my grief. A cold fury ignited within me, and in that moment, I knew that Sukuna’s words would be his undoing.

With a primal scream, I swung my hands down, propelling myself through the air with unstoppable force. I seized Sukuna by the neck, my fingers digging into his flesh as I locked eyes with him, fury blazing in my gaze. He searched my eyes, perhaps expecting to find fear or sadness, but all he found was unbridled rage.

“He was my everything,” I snarled, my voice dripping with venom. With a surge of energy, I unleashed a powerful burst, hurtling Sukuna through the air and slamming him into a barely standing building. The impact sent debris flying in all directions, the structure crumbling under the force of our clash.

I soared upwards, propelled by sheer determination, my telekinetic prowess seizing hold of anything within reach. With a swift, calculated motion, I gathered debris from the surroundings, forming a makeshift arsenal that crackled with latent energy. I hurled the improvised projectiles towards Sukuna, each impact resonating with a thunderous force.

As the chaos unfolded below, I descended with unparalleled velocity to prevent him from having any time to block my hits. The sheer momentum of my descent created shockwaves that rippled through the earth. A brilliant green light erupted from the ground upon impact, fractures spider-webbing across the surface as the sheer force of my assault reverberated through the battlefield.

Yet, as I’m kept attacking, Sukuna managed to move with such speed that he managed to dodge some of my hits. With a sinister grin, he countered my final attack, his own power manifesting in a whirlwind of destruction that met my attack head-on.

Caught off guard by his swift retaliation, I found myself ensnared in Sukuna’s grasp, his grip unyielding as he effortlessly subdued my efforts. Quickly, I unleashed another surge of telekinetic energy, forcing Sukuna to stagger back momentarily. I could feel myself losing consciousness though, using too much of my power for too long. But I can’t stop now. I will kill Sukuna…or at least die trying. Seizing the opportunity, I broke free from his grasp and launched myself backwards, creating distance between us.

Breathing heavily, I steadied myself for the next assault. Sukuna’s eyes gleamed with anticipation, a feral grin spreading across his lips as he prepared to renew his attack. Without hesitation, I dove back into the fray, determination burning fiercely within me.

Our clash resumed with renewed intensity, each blow exchanged was met with equal ferocity, neither of us willing to back down in the face of the other’s relentless onslaught.

"You fight with admirable tenacity," Sukuna remarked, his voice laced with amusement as he observed my relentless assault.

"I'll never stop fighting until justice is served," I retorted, my words dripping with defiance as I squared off against him once more.

Sukuna chuckled darkly, his gaze narrowing as he prepared to unleash another wave of devastating power. "Your resolve is commendable, but ultimately futile," he taunted, his voice resonating with a chilling certainty.

With a defiant glare, I summoned every ounce of strength within me, pushing myself to the brink in my quest to overcome him. "We'll see about that," I replied, my voice filled with determination as I braced myself for the next exchange.

We both hurled towards each other with such speed that it would be impossible to see us with the naked eye. In a moment of perfect synchronization, Sukuna and I clashed together with such force that a mix of our energy erupted from our combined powers.

The collision of our powers created a blinding explosion that illuminated the night sky.

The resulting explosion was cataclysmic, sending shockwaves rippling through the air as numerous buildings that were already on the verge of collapse finally succumbed to the force of our clash. Debris rained down around us as the landscape was engulfed in chaos. We were both knocked back far away from each other.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the echoes of our battle reverberating through the war-torn city. As the dust settled and the chaos subsided, I found myself staring up at the sky, my body wracked with exhaustion. Each breath felt like a struggle as I fought to remain conscious. Sukuna’s relentless assault had taken its toll, his counterattacks wearing down my defenses with ruthless efficiency.

I tried to summon my telekinetic abilities once more, but to no avail. My body felt heavy and sluggish, my limbs refusing to obey my commands. The strain of overexertion coupled with Sukuna’s relentless attacks had left me drained and vulnerable.

I suddenly heard footsteps approaching, the sound echoing ominously in the aftermath of our battle. Instinctively, I knew that Sukuna was drawing near, ready to decide my fate.

I lay there, helpless and defeated, as Sukuna loomed over me with a triumphant smirk. His victory was all but assured, his malevolent gaze gleaming with sadistic pleasure as he prepared to deliver the final blow.

“So, this is how it ends,” Sukuna sneered, his voice dripping with contempt as he regarded me with disdain. “Pathetic. I expected more from someone who dared to challenge me.”

Despite the overwhelming despair that threatened to consume me, I refused to let Sukuna see my fear. With every fiber of my being, I summoned a flicker of defiance, a spark of defiance that refused to be extinguished.

“You may have won this battle,” I replied, my voice trembling with exertion, “but the war is far from over. You can take as many of us as you want…but trust that soon…you will meet your end.” I spoke valiantly.

As Sukuna smirked, poised to deliver the final blow, you braced yourself for the inevitable. With a sense of resignation, you closed your eyes, steeling yourself for the worst. Yet, to your surprise, nothing happened.

”What the hell?” Sukuna said with confusion and utter shock.

Slowly, tentatively, you opened your eyes, expecting to be met with the cold, merciless gaze of your adversary. Instead, your vision was filled with a sight that filled you with disbelief and hope in equal measure.

Standing before you, his presence radiating with a familiar warmth and strength, was Satoru Gojo. His white hair billowed around him like a halo, his gaze unwavering as he faced down Sukuna with a steely resolve.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you gazed upon the man you had thought lost forever. The sheer improbability of his presence left you speechless, a surge of emotion welling up within you as you struggled to comprehend the reality of the situation.

With a defiant glare, Satoru stood his ground, a protective barrier between you and Sukuna.

“Hollow purple”

Within an instant, Satoru unleashed his ability, pushing Sukuna away with a force that sent shockwaves rippling through the air. The sheer power of his attack was enough to stagger even the mighty cursed spirit, buying precious moments of respite in the midst of the chaos.

As Sukuna stumbled backwards, momentarily disoriented by the sudden onslaught, Satoru wasted no time. With a determined glint in his eyes, he surged forward, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye.

With a swift, fluid motion, Satoru launched a devastating barrage of blows, each strike delivered with pinpoint accuracy and unrivaled speed. His movements were a blur as he danced around Sukuna, his attacks relentless and unforgiving.

With each blow, Sukuna staggered further, his defenses crumbling under the relentless assault. Though he fought back with all the ferocity of a cornered beast, he found himself unable to match Satoru's skill and determination, especially after the fight you and him had previously.

Driven by a singular purpose, Satoru pressed on, his every movement a testament to his unwavering resolve. With each strike, he drew upon the depths of his power as he fought to protect you from harm. Each blow landed with the force of a thunderbolt, making it hard for Sukuna to keep pace.

Despite Sukuna's best efforts to retaliate, he found himself outmatched at every turn. Satoru's skill and precision were unmatched, his movements fluid and effortless as he danced around his adversary with a grace that belied his immense power.

As the battle raged on, the sheer intensity of their clash threatened to tear the very fabric of reality asunder.

Sukuna seized upon a moment of opportunity, launching a devastating counterattack that caught Satoru off guard. With a brutal blow, he sent Satoru reeling backwards, his defenses breached in a moment of vulnerability.

Satoru staggered, momentarily stunned by the force of the blow. In that fleeting instant, Sukuna moved to deliver the final, fatal strike, his malevolent intent clear in his eyes.

But before he could land the killing blow, you felt a surge of determination welling up within you. You were not going to lose him…not again. With every ounce of strength you could muster, you rose to your feet, the pain and exhaustion fading into the background as you focused on the task at hand.

With a fierce cry, you threw yourself forward, placing yourself between Satoru and Sukuna with a protective instinct born of love and desperation. In that moment of selflessness, you summoned the last reserves of your power, creating a force field that enveloped both you and Satoru in a protective cocoon.

Sukuna's eyes widened in disbelief as he realized what you had done. With a snarl of rage, he launched himself at you, intent on breaking through your defenses and finishing what he had started.

But you stood firm, your resolve unshakeable as you summoned every ounce of power within you. With a final surge of energy, you unleashed a devastating blast that sent Sukuna hurtling backwards, his form disappearing into the distance.

As the dust settled and the chaos subsided, a tense silence descended upon the battlefield. The air stilled with anticipation as Sukuna, undeterred by his previous defeats, rose once more to confront you and Satoru.

With a feral snarl, Sukuna launched himself at you, his fury palpable as he sought to crush you both once and for all. But you and Satoru were ready, your determination unyielding as you braced yourselves for the final showdown.

With a silent exchange of understanding, you and Satoru moved as one, your movements fluid and synchronized as you launched a coordinated assault against Sukuna. Each blow landed with precision and purpose, driving Sukuna back with the sheer force of your combined power.

Amidst the chaos of battle, you and Satoru fought with a fierce determination born of desperation and resolve. With every strike, you drew upon the depths of your strength, putting everything into every blow as you sought to vanquish the malevolent spirit that threatened to destroy everything you held dear.

Sukuna's attacks grew more frenzied and unpredictable, his rage fueling his every move. But you and Satoru remained steadfast, your bond unbreakable as you fought side by side against the darkness that threatened to engulf you.

And finally, as Sukuna launched one final, desperate assault, you and Satoru seized upon the opportunity with a precision born of years of training and camaraderie. With a united effort, you unleashed a devastating barrage of attacks, overwhelming Sukuna with the sheer force of your combined power.

With one final, decisive blow, you and Satoru delivered the finishing blow, vanquishing the malevolent spirit once and for all.

As Sukuna's form dissolved into nothingness, the battlefield fell silent once more.

————

As everything began to settle and the chaos subsided, you felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on you like a crushing weight. Every muscle in your body ached with fatigue, and you could feel the last vestiges of your strength slipping away.

Satoru’s voice cut through the haze of pain and exhaustion, his tone filled with concern and worry as he rushed to your side. With gentle hands, he caught you as you collapsed, cradling you in his arms with a tenderness that made your skin warm.

“Y/n,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he gazed down at you with worry etched into every line of his face.

You looked up into his beautiful and familiar eyes. The eyes you’ve been longing to see for so long now.

“‘Toru…” you whispered, his name a prayer on your lips as you reached out to touch his face, the sensation of his skin against yours sending a shiver of electricity coursing through your body. His hand met yours, his touch gentle and reassuring as he caressed your trembling fingers with his own.

“How? How are you here?” you asked, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper as you struggled to make sense of the miracle unfolding before you.

Toru’s smile was like a beacon of light in the darkness, his eyes shining with love and adoration as he looked down at you with unwavering affection.

“Oh, come on now, baby,” he chuckled, his voice filled with warmth and affection as he leaned in closer to you. “Did you really think that old geezer could actually get rid of me? I told you from the beginning. I’d win~”

His words were like a balm to your wounded soul, filling you with a sense of hope and joy that you thought you’d lost forever. And as you looked down to see the scars on his abdomen, a testament to the trials he’d faced, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of gratitude and love for the man standing before you.

“And maybe I got some help from Shoko,” he added, his tone playful as he joked about the assistance he’d received from his friend. But beneath the lighthearted banter, you could sense the depth of his gratitude for the support he’d received. Tears began to fall down your face and Toru frowned, leaning down to kiss them away.

”It’s okay, baby. Everything is alright now.” He whispered softly. You wrapped your arms around him, hiding your face in his neck. He lifted you up and sat you down on his lap, wrapping his arms around you as well, kissing your neck.

”I missed you so much.” You said, your voice breaking with each word.

You pulled away from his neck so that you could look at his face.

”When I found out you had lost to Sukuna, I felt my whole body give out. I felt so much anger and regret. Not because of Sukuna…but because I lost you. I never even got to say I love you one last time. Never got to kiss you one last time. All I could think about was you, ‘Toru. I felt so much regret when I would lay in our bed, cook in our kitchen, sit on our couch, realizing that I most likely would never get to see your face again.” I spoke, tears starting to well up in his eyes.

He cupped your face in his hands, his touch gentle and tender as he gazed into your eyes with unwavering devotion.

”I know, my love. And I’m sorry any of this happened in the first place. Believe me when I say I wish I could take it all back so that we’d never have to go through that. I can’t imagine how hard it was for you.” He spoke, kissing your temples softly.

“All that matters is that you’re back now. And I’m never losing you again.” You spoke to him with a faint smile on your face, making him chuckle.

“Trust me, baby. You don’t need to worry about that at all. I’m by your side for eternity.” He said, making you chuckle.

“And as for that kiss…Well, now you get to do all of that right now~” He said, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You kissed him back with equal fervor, holding onto him for dear life, scared that somehow, someway, he would be gone in an instant.

But there he was, holding you in his arms, not letting you go for one second. Your lips moved in perfect sync, as though they were meant for each other alone. Your hearts raced with longing and passion, fuelled by the deep yearning you both shared. After a moment, you two broke the kiss, smiling at one another. Toru placed his forehead on yours as you looked into each other's eyes.

”I love you, Y/n soon to be Gojo.” He teased a bit, making you chuckle

”I love you more, Satoru Gojo~”

______________________________

And everyone lived happily ever after! No one died! Everyone is still alive…yes. Alive! :)

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[wonderer399]

Sebastian x Ciel 🥀❤️‍🔥🖤💖🌹👄 Astrology analysis (Synastry) Part 1a ✨🔮🌌

*⚠️Non Shippers PLEASE IGNORE MY POST AND STAY OUT! I don't want your negativity in my blog! If you don't like it, then don't engage with it...as simple as that!!⚠️*

I wanted to make a really unique, fun and interesting post related to sebaxciel. I have been studying astrology for the past 8 years now and I can tell you that its not a joke and actually can be very somewhat creepy like how do they know about me so much like wtf! stop exposing me!💀 Astrology is very vast and very in depth knowledge if you want to look at it further. So I thought why not lets make a synastry and composite chart about seba x ciel and how their relationship dynamic works astrologically and how their relationship is still evolving. I have also made their numerology chart and its fun! (I'm still learning astrology and numerology , so if I make any mistakes please kindly correct me!)

Out of my curiosity I just wanted to look at Seba x Ciel 's synastry, composite and numerology chart report and analysis and BOY !!!! I WAS SH👀K !! LIKE WTF!!! HOW!?!? HOW CAN THIS BE 💯% ACCURATE!! Now its giving me creepy vibes like did Yana purposefully picked their birthdays ?!?!? SO HERE I AM BLOGGING THIS ✨ ASTROLOGICAL MIRACLE ✨ and you are reading it!! GET READY TO GET SH👀K !! CAUSE YOU KNOW SHARING IS CARING!!

In this Part 1, I will only discuss about the planetary and asteroid Synastry aspects ( synastry chart means that you take 2 different people's chart and superimpose it on top of each other to see how 2 different people act with each other between their relationship dynamic ) ( this part 1 is getting really really long, so I decided to break it down into many mini parts ( like part 1 a,b,c..I don't even know how many mini sub parts of part 1 I will write, but it is more than 2 ) , Its like writing an AO3 ...you can never stop writing lmao! In part 2 I will go further into the Synastry and the details of the House placements and how the house overlays gives their relationship dynamic more definition! Part 3 and Part 4 will be based on composite charts! ( composite chart means you combine 2 different people's chart to see how they work together as a team or as a 1 person ) Part 5 will be about Numerology and if I'm able to find out more interesting astrological facts about them then I may make part 6 ( mostly Natal analysis )...I'm gonna expose everything about SebaxCiel dynamic and their real personality and how their relationship works and how its evolving and what do we expect to see in the future especially in the manga chapters! *EXCITED*

The birthdays, time and location I used :

Sebastian : 18th January, 1886 ( 6:30 am ) London,UK

( I was extremely skeptical about Sebby's date, however after doing lots of research and some analysis, I have come up with this birthday as it is very accurate...at least I tried to make it accurate! , also I used this bd for sebby because whenever a demon a manifested in this 3d human realm, it is 'reborn' again...obviously he a thousand years old I'm not using that B.C. date lmao! )

( okay I know none of them were actually exactly born in London,Uk however I do not really know where the mansions located...so I used London as a general location and England isn't that big enough like the states lol ..so it wouldn't affect the reading and analysis much at all I think! lol )

Ciel : 14th December, 1875 ( 7:30 am ) London,UK

Synastry Chart below! I'm going to explain now what planetary and asteroid aspects creates their LOVING, STEAMY , SEXY AND IRRESISTIBLE synastry !

✨ Ciel is Deep Blue and Sebastian is Deep Orange ✨

Just like their Eye colors! *GASPS* that was a coincidence! SH👀K !!

✨KEY ASPECTS ✨

Their positive aspects :

Their negative aspects :

( these two images illustrates their dynamics of both positive and negative sides of the same coin )

I'm gonna talk about *positive aspects only ( mostly conjunctions, as trines and sextiles are very watered down version of conjunctions, its still positive though )* cause I don't wanna ruin the *rose-colored glasses* mood we all sebaxciel shippers have it on right now! I don't need to talk about *negative aspects* cause they don't really fight much...its just the power chokehold they have it on each other kinda like BDSM not physicially but psychologically and I kinda find that really really hot! *negative aspects* ( Oppositions and Squares ) aren't necessairily that bad they are just 'necessary evil' for realtionship to grow, improvise, evolve, survive and thrive . If you guys find more aspects you can reply or reblog!

*Website used : Astroseek.com*

Jupiter - Juno ( 👰🏻🤵🏻 ) : *HAPPILY MARRIED, THE ULTIMATE HUSBAND - WIFE DYNAMIC*

Jupiter, the planet of expansion, faith, hope, good luck, opportunity, wealth, philosophical and spiritual values and financial gains. It's also known as the Great Benefactor because it's larger than all the other planets in the solar system. Jupiter the god and husband of Juno according to the greek mythology. Juno, the asteroid of loyalty, intimate, serious and long term relationships and partnering. Juno is the goddess of marriage and protector of women, who was known for her loyalty and protection of women. Jupiter and Juno were a married couple. Juno is Jupiter's most prominent wife and is often depicted as a beautiful queen-consort. Juno is the queen of the gods and is worshipped as the protector of marriage and homemaking. Jupiter is also known for his infidelity and he had many other affairs lol.

When Jupiter and Juno tightly conjuncts in a synastry like this, both the juno and jupiter person wants to have a strong and powerful commitment towards each other. Jupiter brings happiness in juno person's life. Jupiter's optimistic approach in life boosts the ego and confidence of juno person. They both think they have found their 'ideal match' as Juno is extremely loyal, supportive and devoted to Jupiter person's interests and goals. Jupiter helps juno through expanding Juno's vision for their future goals and Juno helps Jupiter by grounding themselves in practical day to day life. Jupiter person also helps juno to succeed in careers to achieve BIG GOALS. Juno is tolerant of Jupiter just like a loyal, devoted and faithful wife!

Its a very stable and long lasting and perfect synastry for marrige! Jupiter brings out Juno’s desire for marriage and commitment in a big way. Juno wants to get married to Jupiter right away, like juno wants to make the 'OFFICIAL CONTRACT' immediately ! or Juno wants to desperately have a family with the Jupiter. Juno's characteristics is very protective, possesive, loyal and devoted in nature, and jupiter expands or amplifies juno's these qualities or characteristics on each other and jupiter can feel its effect.

According to this synastry, Sebby's Jupiter tightly conjuncts Ciel's Juno in libra. Libra is zodiac of relationships, ruled by Venus , the planet of Love, Beauty and Harmony! Their main focus would be their relationship with each other is their #1 priority! They prioritzie to make their relationship more lovely, harmonious, compatible, diplomatic, graceful and beautiful from both inside and outside. Sebby is very important for ciel's career and his BIG GOALS in life and they are both very loyal and devoted to each other. And Sebby helps Ciel by expanding Ciel's future vision and plans!

Venus - Mars ( ❤️‍🔥 🥵🛏️👄) : *BAD BOY ON A BIKE MEETS THE SEXY VICTORIA'S SECRET MODEL, PASSIONATE, MAGNETIC AND IRRESITIBLE ATTRACTION AT 1ST SIGHT*

'Let's fuck'....This conjunction is like a ticking time bomb 💣 💥 and the explotion of the excitement would be the bed breaking session! They can't help but to get pulled by each other to do that deed...THEY LOVE TO FLIRT WITH EACH OTHER 24/7! There is no other way to describe this dynamic! Its a great synastry to have a very , BED BREAKING LOUD SEX. ( Conjunctions and Oppositions will mostly feel this, but in oppositions fights will be frequent, trine and the sextile won't be that strong ) Especially if the man is mars and the women is venus...the bed breaking session will go on all night long! their passion is just stronger..if its the other way around the 'man' in this relationship may feel emasculated or may even feel slightly uncomfortable by the women, but the passion is still there but the women might be very forceful sexually towards the man.

This synastry doesn't give enough stability for relationships to last, but this synastry is perfect for a quick fling and passionate romance. Mars, the planet of ( very masculine energy ) Aggression, Power , Temper, hot headed, SEX, impulse, War, Aries and Scorpio ruler and Fiery planet meets the Venus, ( very feminine energy ) planet of Beauty and Love, Peace, Harmony, Joy, Luxury, Riches and Diplomacy ruler of libra and taurus.

Mars can't help or stop thinking about the passion and they also want to have Venus in their life even if its for a very short fling type thrilling relationship, MARS WANTS TO HAVE THE UPPER HAND ( like controlling or owning Venus ), MARS WANTS TO MAKE THE MOVE 1st AND IMMIDIATELY AS IF VENUS IS THE SPECIAL LIMITED EDITION STUFF WHICH WON'T STAY FOREVER IN THE MARKET ! MARS WANTS TO MERGE WITH VENUS TO FEEL THE PASSION AND THE RAW BURNING DESIRE THEY CRAVE DEEP INSIDE FOR EACH OTHER. And if Venus wants Mars as well, Venus will let Mars do whatever Mars wants...venus also secretly wants to get dominated by Mars! You know the saying goes, 'Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus'..its the merging of masculine and feminine energy we are talking about.

Even if it is between platonic relationship rather than a romantic one, the 'platonic' friends will still feel some tension...and their other friends might notice it and will tease them by saying 'u guys r so gay/lesbian for each other' lots of inappropriate touching going on between these 'platonic' friendships even if they already have a bf/gf....if its the dynamic between parent and child, they will show lots of passion and affection through touching all the time.

In this case, Sebby's Venus tightly conjuncts Ciel's Mars in Pieces. If noticed carefully Ciel always wants to have the upper hand and they are becoming very 'touchy touchy' by each manga chapter, especially it is more noticeable in the Emerald witch arc...like after waking up from the psychic trauma Ciel compensated his lost touching time with sebby as Ciel and Sebby both were excited to be able to stay 'near' each other again! Also, Mars do love get bathed by Venus!!... They were constantly flirting with each other with Victorian aesthetics in Emerald witch arc, especially when ciel was in a dress and sebby called him 'my lady' while fighting with Germans! and also the train date!...Mars CRAVES the touch of Venus!

Don't let Ciel's 13 old appearance fool you, he is very forceful and demanding towards sebby ( Its an Order SEBASTIAN! LMAO ) and Ciel CRAVES sebby's affection, excitement, passion and touch! Ciel as being a Mars in Pisces is drawn to more romantic and sensitive partners who are compassionate, creative, spiritual and will listen to him and Sebby as being a Pieces venus, he wants passion, true love, and a partner that is emotionally invested in the relationship. And Ciel exudes his passion and desire for 'revenge' and very much invested in Sebby! And we got to see the constant flirting going on between them on the lastest 212 🌹 train date🌹 chapter!

Pluto - Neptune (❤️‍🔥 🥀🖤) : *ALWAYS EVOLVING, LOOSING & FINDING EACH OTHER AGAIN THROUGH THEIR DEEP & INTENSE SPIRITUAL TRANSFORMATION : A THRILLING ROLLER COASTER RIDE OR A CONSTANT DEATH & REBIRTH CYCLE?*

Rarest conjunction EVER!!! It takes around 250 years ( more or less ) for Pluto to even complete 1 cycle and it takes around 165 years for Neptune to complete 1 cycle. Pluto and Neptune conjuncting like this happens only once in around 500 years!! Last time it happened in 1891 , and the next time it will happen in 2385. And it is even more rare to observe it in the synastry! Therefore, its really hard for astrologers to even describe such synastry dynamics! Both Pluto and Neptune are considered generational outer planets and they are extremely slow moving...Pluto the planet of the underworld ,the mafia boss, the thug you don't wanna mess with, always Schemeing and Plotting, death and rebirth, power to control, deep dark secrets, intense earthly desire and transformation..( lmao I always think if pluto was a person that would be that anime character from jjba Goirno Giovana like Italian mafia boss ) ...sounds very scorpionic in nature as pluto co-rules scorpio with mars...on the other hand, you have Neptune the planet of illusion, delusion, manipulation, confusion, dreams, fantasy, out of this known earthly realm ( Isekai world in anime term ), spiritualism and psychics etc etc is the theme of Neptune...Neptune rules Pisces.

When these 2 planets are in conjunction with each other in a synastry like this, Pluto person will try to dominate and control the Neptune person, Pluto wants to transform the neptune and its theme...Pluto will breakdown and destroy Neptune and will help rebuilt Neptune back better than before...now this transformation can be very painful if the Neptune person resists...the annoying thing about this transformation is that it just constantly occuring , the cycle never stops...and if the Neptune person stops the 'evolution' or does not want to transform spiritually, mentally or psychologically...they will end up having very dissapointing 'reality check' which can be very devastating and life threatening to them because Neptune is the 'Illusion' Neptune can't see past the delusion they are living in...In other words, Neptune has no other choice but to listen to pluto no matter what...if Neptune wants to transform and wants to stay committed to pluto...Pluto is very protective over Neptune person and have a very strong mental and psychological and sometimes emotional attachment to Neptune. Pluto doesn't and won't let go off the Neptune person, pluto's grasp on neptune is very tight as it wants to hold onto it desprately...it can also be other way around as well if the pluto person doesn't do what they are supposed to do, like help transforming Neptune into realigning with their reality, pluto person might get into a big trouble as the confused neptune will try to manipulate and the pluto will retaliate as pluto is very grounded into the reality and will not tolerate neptune's manipulation and psychological warfare...eventually either pluto will leave neptune alone or Pluto can stay strong keep staying 'grounded' into the reality so that it can help evolve and transform neptune as much as it is needed for neptune's realigning with the reality.

Another positive side of this synastry conjunction is that there are always a space for forming an extremely strong mental, psychological and emotional attachment with each other. Overtime they will both feel the extreme affection and empathy towards each other, if both pluto and neptune do their spiritual work and transformation and don't resist the process, instead they should trust the process, as they are both transforming spiritually. And only then they will be very affectionate and empathetic towards each other. They will also have a sense of compassion, will be able to sync with their emotional needs, they will eventually learn how to be emotionally vulnerable with each other...

In this synastry Ciel's pluto conjuncts Sebastian's Neptune. Ciel had to transform sebby mentally, psychologically, spiritually over and over again throughout their journey so far..so many trial and error going on..still the good thing is that sebby is committed...even though he was somewhat injured in the book of murder and book of atlantic...both times when he got injured, he wasn't expecting he was overconfident and slightly delusioned of his demonic superpowers...he underestimated undertaker and it cost him a lot of trouble for both ciel and him...and in the emerald green witch ark , ciel being the pluto person temporarily stops functioning due to his trauma and sebby being the neptune person tries his best with his dangerous manipulation and psychological warfare on ciel and it worked as ciel being the pluto did not tolerate his disrespectful act and retaliate back asap which was very much needed at that time...also, at the book of circus at the asthma scene ciel was embracing his own transformation and managed to overcome his fear at the end that's why sebby looked so excited... so as long as they are with each other, transformation like these will keep occuring!

Also, through that transformation, their bond keeps getting stronger through each transformation and they have gained enough empathy, affection, emotional and psychological attraction towards each other as it shows how proud ciel was when he acknowledged sebby's dedication at the end of the book of atlantic on the boat when ciel said 'You did good work today, when we reach the manor I want you to rest to serve as phantomhive butler properly'...and also when ciel woke up from psychological trauma in the green witch...they both were extremely affectinate towards each other as if its their one of the big relationship transformation...

Also, on the side note, both their pluto and neptune conjuncts at the zodiac Taurus, Taurus in pluto will be obsessed with their material possesion, finance, money, will be determined and enduring and Neptune in taurus will be very artistic, being good with food, will have a natural talent for creating beauty like pleasure seeking...both their planets conjuncting in taurus would challenge and transform their view on material possesion, pleasure seeking tendencies, money, loyalty and determination...this is exactly what we see happening during the blue revenge arc when R!ciel came back and took away everything from our ciel! And as a pluto in taurus, our ciel was extremely mad and his reaction at lau's place was extremely valid.

Juno - Ascendant (✨ 💘 ) : *ARE YOU MY HUSBAND/WIFE?*

Most common synastry among married couples!!! Its a love at 1st sight connection! When one partner's juno conjuncts the ascendant of another partner...the juno person sees the ascendant person as their ideal mate like their entire exsistance is perfect for the juno person to be considered at their significant other. Juno, as I mentioned earlier, the asteroid which is like a very loyal and devoted wife can be very possesive of their partner at well. Juno ( sebby ) person knows very well that ascendant ( ciel ) person will be very important in their life and juno dreams and even fantasies about having a life with ascendant person and how exiciting it will be...the ascendant person will immidiately realize that the juno person needs to be in a commitment with ascendant person...its a inner calling which the both juno and ascendant person realizes from deep within..both juno and the ascendant works together to succeed and accomplishing their mutual goals. Juno person is happy to provide a solid support in order to nuture ascendant person's future goals...Ascendant sees Juno as the stable and committed source of love and asc uses it to their advantages in order to achieve their desired goals...This synastry can show that the asc person feels like a wifey/hubby material to their juno partners and the juno probably proposed to them a lot or talk about marrying them every now and then. The juno person can be overly possessive and controlling over their asc partners as well.

In this synastry Sebby's juno conjuncts Ciels ascendant very tightly! And sebby shows all these possesiveness towards ciel and their small flirting here and there is a huge indicator!

Moon - Saturn ( 💏💍 ) : *I'M BOUND TO TAKE THE RESPONSIBILITY THAT COMES ALONG WITH THIS MARRIGE*

Another really common marriage indicator between most couples...Moon the planet of emotions meets the saturn the planet of restiction, authrority and strcuture. Saturn is like a benevolent restrictive father figure and the moon is that inner child. Saturn may sometimes think that moon is really childish...Saturn isn't complaining though they are happy to take the responsibility that comes along with the moon...Saturn is very mentally and emotionally mature...and moon is very moody...which can sometimes annoy saturn....moons is always emotionally ups and downs like they are always in an emotional wave of 'feelings'...They both want the same thing in terms of commitment...Moon approaches with the commitment very emotionally and Saturn with a sense of responsibility, maturity, or practicality. Doing anything in their power to keep the bond secure. Its a really stable and long lasting synastry between married couples. This synastry is very solid and strong and provides a solid base for mutual understanding, respect and commitment between couples..

In this synastry Sebby's saturn is in conjunction with ciel's moon...even if the orbs are wider, the energy is still felt and..the moon can have wider orb in conjunction...it is very evident that how bratty can ciel get from time to time and how childishly he tests sebby just so that he can annoy him...and sebby quietly endures everything ciel throws at him along with his bratty tantrums...and how sebby is very strict with his learning lessons later on how ciel took revenge by pouring the hot tea on sebby's hands LOL so petty of being cancer moon!

Juno - Sun ( 💕💖 ) : *I WILL PROTECT YOU NO MATTER WHAT*

Devotion, loyalty and possesiveness to the maxxx!!! As I said earlier that Juno, the goddess of marriage is also very possesive, loyal and devoted.... In this synastry, juno conjuncts with the sun ( which is the ego the core personality )... Juno is very protective, possesive, loyal and devoted to the Sun person...Juno sees the sun person as their ideal mate ....the one and only...Juno's ideals and Sun person's ideals are matching with each other...They have deep understanding of each other's desires...Sun person's ego is ideal for juno person...juno finds it very attractive...Juno will do anything to protect the sun person from any harm...They have similar ideas about family, home, career and children. They are always there for each other. There is a strong sense of admiration, mutual respect and attraction towards each other. They see themselves in a committed and fulfilling relationship with each other. They have strong foundation to build a life, family and home together. This is a very strong and stable relationship for marrige..one of the common placement found in most married couples...Juno is everything the sun person could wish for to find in their ideal mate...

In this synastry, sebastian's juno conjuncts ciel's sun. Sebby would go in extra length to devote himself in order to protect ciel and there are many small small indications in the manga that sebby is possesive , loyal, devoted to ciel. Sebby will do literally anything to protect ciel like and his possesiveness shows that how panicked he gets when he sees ciel is injured ...in the green witch and the blue cult arc! Sebby so protective that he even forgets his own injury to protect ciel...that's how deeply devoted and protective this synastry aspect between juno and sun can be.

THIS IS SOO LONG!!! I did not want to make it into a huge thesis LMAO!! sorry for wasting your time! thank you for reading though😭😭😭 my other parts won't be that long...it took me 3 days to write lol...I just got carried away by their dynamic! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!! AGHH!! I felt like I had to explain astrologically!

#black butler #ciel phantomhive #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #sebastian x ciel #sebaciel #yaoi bl #proship #fanfic

[pippipfrootloop]

i haven't had much time to post anything but i made this quick thing since we're birthday buddies!! happy birthday anthony <3 !!

#angel dust #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanart #my art #I WAS SO EXCITED TO FIND OUT WE SHARE A BIRTHDAY #I LOVE THIS GUY

[dearlyjun]

CALL OUT MY NAME ☆ c. seungcheol

☆ PAIRING: slightly possessive boyfriend!cheol x reader (f)

☆ GENRE: NSFW (18+ readers only!!)

☆ SUMMARY: your ex boyfriend can’t seem to stop texting you lately; wouldn’t want to make your current boyfriend angry would you?

☆ WORD COUNT: about 1.8k

☆ WARNINGS: cheol is possessive in a protective way, mentions of an ex boyfriend that won't leave you alone, ex boyfriend is min yoongi, cheol has a deep voice, mentions of cheol working out, cheol is tatted, he wants to fight her battles for her (king), unprotected sex, different sex positions (cowgirl, kneeling missionary), semi voyeurism, clitoral stimulation, spanking (like once), cumshot, foul language, cheolie is very sweet at the end!! lmk if i missed anything!!

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: posting this in honor of @miupow’s birthday!! happy birthday, lia!! you’re one of my dearest friends (and moots) on here. im so glad we met!! and also shout out to lia for beta-ing her own bday fic and correcting my half asleep writing. yeah even i don’t know what was going on there.

BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST HERE!

You were setting a bowl of food and a glass of iced tea down on your kitchen island, when your laptop started ringing.

“Ah, Cheol, give me a minute!” You spoke out loud to yourself, quickly grabbing a fork before tapping your keyboard to accept the video call coming through.

“Hi, Cheolie.” You greeted in a sing-songy voice as he -was filled up your screen with a smile on his face.

Your boyfriend was in Japan on a business trip for a few days; scheduled to come home tomorrow. You both made it a routine to have dinner together every night over video calls.

“You look pretty.” He answered, his gaze never leaving you.

You giggled at his compliment. “You see me everyday.”

Seungcheol smirked. “And? You’re always pretty.” He motioned at your bowl that was in the camera frame. “What’s for dinner today?”

“Oh, um, spicy pork bibimbap. You know; my favorite. What are you having?”

Seungcheol pointed to some things on the table he was sitting at. “Tuna and rice with some spicy sauce and vegetables, and chicken.” He let out a laugh. “Kind of boring.”

You smiled at him before taking a bite of your food. “Did you go to the gym today? I saw the workout notification on my watch.” You referenced your activity sharing feature on your Apple Watch.

“Yeah, of course the last day I'm here I find this really nice gym.” Seungcheol rolled his eyes and took a bite of his food before speaking again. “I was so excited that I actually almost did a 400 pound deadlift.”

“Oh my god…” You were just as excited for your boyfriend’s gym achievements as he was.

“Hang on, I think I took some pictures.” He picked up his phone and was scrolling through some pictures. “Yeah, see?” Seungcheol turned his phone screen towards his computer so that you could see. He scrolled through pictures of the scenery of the gym, and some pictures in the mirror.

“I like that one.” You suddenly spoke up with a smirk on your face.

“Which one?” Seungcheol questioned before looking at his phone to see the one of him completely shirtless In the mirror, showing off his back that was beautifully adorned with muscles and his tattoo that you loved so much. “Oh with the tattoo?” He smirked, knowing fully well how much you liked it.

“Yeah.” You smirked, cheeks flushing like this was the first time you saw him. Seungcheol always seemed to have that effect on you.

“I didn’t go to the gym today, I went shopping instead.” You slightly laughed.

“Yeah, I saw the Amex notification.”Seungcheol joked, setting his phone back down. “Buy anything nice?”

You gasped, dramatically covering your face. “See! That's why I don’t like using it all of the time.” Seungcheol always let you use his credit card to treat yourself however you pleased, and sometimes you would buy clothing pieces that he’d like on you. Unfortunately, the notifications always went to his phone.

Seungcheol looked at his phone again, laughing at your dramatics. “It’s not like it shows me what you bought. It just tells me the store.”

“Well you’ll be home by evening tomorrow, right?” You questioned. “I’ll show you then. It’s–“

Your voice trailed off as suddenly a notification of a text message popped up at the top of your laptop screen. It was your ex boyfriend, Min Yoongi. For some reason he has been non stop bothering you lately; asking how you’ve been, if he can “catch up” with you. You ignored every one of his advances thus far, but you hadn’t said anything to Seungcheol.

“What’s wrong?” Seungcheol instantly noticed the change in your tone and expression. “You got so quiet all of a sudden.”

You sighed. “Cheolie, I hate you fighting my battles for me.”

“It’s my job.” Seungcheol quickly retorted. “What’s going on?”

“My ex boyfriend. Do you remember Yoongi?” Seungcheol nodded. “For some reason he’s been trying to get a hold of me; texting me like he wants something between us again.”

Seungcheol got closer to his computer, the tone in his voice suddenly deepening. “Show me the texts.”

You picked up your phone, showing him the screen of multiple texts to all of which you did not respond to.

“And you didn’t respond?” He questioned, reading the texts on your phone as you swiped through.

“No, I haven’t responded to any of them.” You answered.

“Okay.” Seungcheol spoke, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms in front of himself. “I can’t get an earlier flight out. But If this happens again, I’m dealing with him.”

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my cock just like that baby.” Seungcheol sighed, looking down at his lap to where his cock was disappearing inside of your wet cunt. “Fucking use it.”

Seungcheol brushed your hair off of your shoulders for access to your collarbones; sucking and biting at your skin. You whimpered In response, combing your fingers through his dark hair and giving it a slight tug. That only egged him on more; letting out a low grunt.

Seungcheol gripped onto your hips, angling them forwards so that when you slammed down onto him, his cockhead would be hitting a different spot.

“Cheol! Fuck!” You cried out, reaching to hold onto Seungcheol’s sturdy frame before falling into his chest.

“Yeah, gonna fucking cum?” Seungcheol’s grip moved to your thighs as you whimpered; your face buried in the crook of his neck. “Look at me, look at me.”

You pulled yourself up, still using him for stability. You couldn’t fight your orgasm right now if you tried to.

Until your phone starts ringing, lost somewhere in the tangled bed sheets.

You jump, clearly startled by the ringtone playing at almost full volume.

“The fuck….?” Seungcheol muttered, eyes fixated on his wet cock disappearing in between your legs.

“Ignore it.” You hissed, lifting yourself up off of him enough so just the tip was inside of you, only to slowly sink back down to feel every inch of Seungcheol’s cock.

Seungcheol knew that was on purpose, yet he still let out one of the hottest moans to ever come out of his mouth.

“Give me that fucking phone.” Seungcheol spat, putting one arm around you to keep you in place as he rummaged around the sheets to his right.

He managed to find it despite your whining, looking to see that the screen read a phone number across it and not any caller ID.

Seungcheol shot you a glance before swiping the green icon at the bottom of the screen to pick up the call. He then put it on speaker phone.

“Who is this?” The tone in his voice was deep and oddly steady considering that you were still perched up on his lap with his cock inside of you.

“Y/N?” The voice on the other side of the phone said your name, startling you. You froze. It was Min Yoongi of all people that could be calling you.

You saw Seungcheol’s jaw clench as he heard another man say your name, but with his free hand he still gave your ass a light smack to keep moving.

“Why are you calling my girlfriend’s phone? I know who this is.” Seungcheol used his free hand to pinch one of your nipples between your fingers, making you whimper.

“I just wanted to talk…” Yoongi’s voice trailed off and you didn’t know what he said only because Seungcheol whispered to you to lie down onto your back.

You followed directions, wincing at the empty feeling between your legs when you were on your back. Seungcheol immediately pushed your knees towards your shoulders and kneeled in front of you, aligning his cock with your entrance once again.

“We can talk.” Seungcheol spoke to the phone while he was teasing your folds with the tip of his cock. You grabbed a hold the comforter with your left hand, desperate for something to hold onto.

“Cheol, fucking put it in. Please.” You whined loud enough to be heard through the phone. Seungcheol had a satisfied look on his face, nodding as he finally pushed himself inside of you slowly enough so you felt everything; all of him.

You threw your head back; arching your back against the bed. Seungcheol put his hand onto your stomach to keep you still, then moved it down slightly to stimulate your clit with his thumb. Letting out a strained moan, you nearly wanted to scream.

“Awful quiet there, Yoongi. That’s your name right?” Seungcheol’s voice was so deep that your core clenched around him tight. “What happened to talking?” You were sure that the noises of his cock sliding in and out of you could be heard on the phone by now.

“I mean, obviously I’m a bit busy right now.”

“Cheol!” Your voice startled even you. Not quite a scream, but more like a whiny moan. Seungcheol’s body was quickly against yours within mere seconds; with his weight pressing into you.

“Mhm, call out my fucking name baby.” Seungcheol’s lips ghosted over yours as he lightly kissed you, then he found your right hand that was gripping onto the comforter and laced his fingers with yours. “Let him and everyone else hear it.”

The call either dropped or your phone died because it was silent, but neither of you were paying any attention.

“Cheol! fuck!” You swore, and just like that you were cumming all over his cock; shaking as he kissed you sweetly all over your face.

Seungcheol was on the brink of cumming, and you could tell. So naturally, you used his weakness to your advantage. He always gave in when you begged him to cum inside of you; he’d never tell you no.

“Cheolie, cum in me….please.” You gripped onto his thick arms as he supported himself above you; following your words exactly as his breathing became unsteady.

“Shit…fuck.” Seungcheol panted, dropping his head and making his hair fall into his face. You couldn’t help but let out a whimper at the feeling of him finishing inside of you.

The two of you were silent, and Seungcheol adjusted himself to not drop his entire weight onto you.

“I’m sorry, cheolie.” You muttered, running your fingers through his now messy hair.

He quickly had a concerned look on his face. “For what, princess? You didn’t do anything.”

You slightly laughed at the situation. “My ex is calling me, literally while we’re having sex.”

Seungcheol was smirking. “Yeah, but he’ll probably never call again.” He grabbed your hand, kissed the back of it, then kissed your face. “He should know that you’re mine.”

☆ TAGS: @lavnderwonu @dokyeomkyeom @https-yeonjun

#seventeen smut #choi seungcheol smut #s coups smut #seungcheol x reader #seventeen x reader #s coups x reader

[writingwithfolklore]

Writing a Story from Start to Finish - Guide

                I see you guys in the tags and reblogs talking a lot about how you have a desire to write, but have no clue what to write about, or where to even start figuring that out. While starting any project can be incredibly daunting, I wanted to put together a little guide to hopefully make it a bit more accessible. Be warned, this will probably be a long post.

Step 1: Form an idea

All writing begins with this: an idea. Ideas can start as small as an object, or as big as a world or cast of characters. What’s important is that your idea genuinely interests you, and makes you want to explore it more.

                There are a million ways to gain inspiration for ideas, but my favourite method is a sort of brainstorm/mind map of all the little and big things you find interesting. Any tropes, characters, places, concepts, objects, animals, other stories, etc. you love—write them down. Then, start connecting the pieces. Each connection is one concept or idea you could explore further.

                If this doesn’t work for you, try using some writing prompts or check out 15 ways to spark new ideas.

                If you are a planner, proceed to Step 2. If you are a pantser, skip to step 7.

Step 2: Create your Protagonist

Now that you have a sort of concept or inspiration to work off of, you need your main character. There are about as many ways to create characters as there are characters themselves, and each method is going to work better or worse for every writer.

                At the barest minimum, all your protagonist needs is a Goal to work towards, a Reason for wanting it, and a Flaw that keeps them from having it right away.

                These three things can form a baseline character. Consider what the thing they want, why they want it, and what’s keeping from it says about them as a person.

                Rapunzel (from Disney’s Tangled) wants to see the ‘floating lights’ on her birthday. She wants to because she believes she will learn more about herself through seeing them. Her fear over disappointing and disobeying her ‘mother’ keeps her from it.

                My favourite character creation technique is actually Here—it takes you through creating character in order to create story.

                If that one doesn’t work for you, try this one. It is more focused on defining traits and figuring out the personality of the character first.

Step 3: Your Plot is your Protagonist’s Arc

As stated in the character creation technique I shared in Step 2, character is plot. By that I mean, the character’s journey is the plot of the story. We’re here to see the protagonist transform because of the circumstances incited in the beginning.

                So to form a plot, we need to know who the character is at the beginning, and what they need to learn by the end.

                Your character’s arc is A but B so C:

                A – your character and their flaw

                B – The conflict they go through

                C – how they change

“Obsessed with success, Jenny Beech works tirelessly to earn the approval of her strict parents and graduate top of her class, but when the new girl in town pulls her into a whole new world of excitement and fun, she must stand up for herself against her impossible standards and learn how to be a teen again.”

                This one sentence has everything we need to know about this story and character: “Obsessed with success (character trait/flaw), Jenny Beech works tirelessly to earn the approval of her strict parents and graduate top of her class (goal), but when the new girl in town pulls her into a new world of excitement and fun (conflict), she must stand up for herself against her impossible standards and learn how to be a teen again (change).”

                If you have these three things, congratulations! You already have a story. If you’d like, you may begin writing it now (skip to step 8). Or…

Step 4: Theme

                I did a whole post on theme you should check out here. Essentially, the big takeaway is that your theme is a lesson to impart to the readers—which means it is not a question, it is an answer.

                For the example given above, our theme would likely be something like, “Teens need to balance their additional responsibilities as they mature into young adults with the joy of being young and having fun.” Or, “Friends and a close social network is more important than having the best grades.” Or, “It’s important to take frequent time away from work in order to maintain one’s humanity.” Etc. Etc.

                Theme is conveyed through what your characters need to do to succeed (or what they do that causes their failure). If Jenny lets loose and suffers consequences for it in the end, we’re saying that she should have stuck to her studies rather than letting herself have fun. If she lets loose and is rewarded with a greater relationship with herself and her parents, we’re saying that was the correct thing to do.

Step 5: Outlining

                Now that we have a plot and a theme, we can outline our story. An outline is like a roadmap of what you’re writing. It can be as specific or broad as you want. My outlines tend to follow this structure, and I improvise the little stuff in between, but if you need to get all your ideas within your outline, that’s good too!

                Just make sure your notes make sense to you so when you need to know where to go next, you have a handy tool just for that.

Step 6: Worldbuilding

                Worldbuilding is probably where you’ll spend the most time because there’s just so much. However, I also find it one of the most fun parts. The minimal thing you need to know is your world’s normal, and how that normal is disrupted in the inciting incident.

                Jenny’s normal is school work and trying to impress her parents. The disruption is the new girl in town.

                Rapunzel’s normal is the tower and her hobbies. The disruption is Flynn breaking in.

                I did a more in-depth post on worldbuilding here, but the basics is just ask questions, explore consequences, and do plenty of research.

                Which brings us to…

Step 7: Research

                This can also be done after your first draft, but can’t be skipped entirely. It’s important when trying to convey experiences that may not be wholly your own, or unique perspectives, that you understand the context behind those things in the real world.

                Once again, ask questions, talk to people, and remain open to what you find.

Step 8: We can start writing now

                Now that you have all your planning ducks in a row (or have a good inspiration to jump from) it’s time to start writing! Either go from the outline you built, or just try out scenes. I have some tips for actually writing the dang thing that I’ll put here:

                Let me know how your writing goes, good luck!

#writing #creative writing #writers #screenwriting #writing community #writing inspiration #books #film #filmmaking #writing advice #writing masterlist #writing a story from start to finish #novel writing #planning

[undercoverpena]

him. he. joel.

joel miller x f!reader | joel miller masterlist

summary: you don't know his name. he doesn't know yours. yet.

wordcount: 1.5k warnings: PRE OUTBREAK. a suggestion of alcohol as they're in a bar, but never consumed. smut. unprotected sex with a stranger (at first). oral sex (m!receiving + f!receiving). no use of y/n. no age gap is specified (use your imagination, honey). jo spelling too, cause wrote this on my phone read on ao3

Your eyes land on his across the room.

Throat drying at first contact, feet glueing more to the insoles of your shoes as you focus on keeping your back straight—poised, unwilling to crack or bend. 

Especially when he seeks you out over random heads and remains there even when you pretend to look away.

You only see him here occasionally.

No routine, no plan—no arrangement in place, just a chance and encounter. 

As soon as you do, the two of you perform the same dance as the time before, circling and circling until the inevitable collision. 

He doesn’t know your name; you don’t know his.

But, you do know how his cock feels in your throat. You do know the way his stubble feels on the inside of your thighs—and the grunt he makes when he spills inside of you.

Just like how you know the way his lips feel when he’s zipping himself back up, giving you one last parting kiss before he’s through the door of the bathroom, supply closet or exiting out of the back of your car. 

Tonight, it’s another person's birthday. 

Ericsson’s maybe? Or a person called Monty—you’re not sure.

You’re just wondering how long it’ll take before the usual routine comes into play. 

Will he find you outside, head turned away under the twinkling, milky stars and a cloudless sky before he snaps your attention to him? Or, will his fingers, deft and thick, find your wrist—pull you into a dark corner and slant his mouth across yours to smother your gasp? 

Except tonight feels different, something in the air—it is all heavy, layering thick. Some part of you wondering if there are new rules to the game, ones not shared, not handed to you—more so when he breaks away from the rowdy celebrations and leans on the bar next to you. 

“Alone?”

“Aren’t I always?” 

He chews his tongue, the sleeves of his brown t-shirt clinging to his biceps—parts of the seam unthreaded, likely over-worn. 

“You taking me away from here or will we see if my lipstick is still on the mirror from last time?” 

All set to move, to slide from your usual bar stool, when he rests his palm on the back of it, caging you, keeping you there. All broad, wide, arms long, as you stare at him, enamoured, suddenly unsure why you don't just press your mouth to his here and now.

“You not like where y’sat?” he asks.

Doing so as though he can’t see the twinkle in your eyes or see the play-by-play movie you hope will happen tonight flicking in your pupils. As though he can't see how he'd struggle to slide a finger between your pressed-together thighs, never mind his hand.  

Moving your hand, you bring your glass closer, taking a sip of your Coke, ice clinking, straw remaining on your lip a second longer as his brown eyes dig a little deeper. 

“Maybe, I just think your face is worth sitting on.”

You hadn’t banked on going home with him. 

A shift, a noticeable change to the way things were. But, it thrilled you. Made the entire ride over an excited, uncomfortable mess as your underwear grew more ruined with every mile. 

He’d made it worth it.

Gave you a fucking throne to sit on as he worked his tongue inside you like he was as starved as you. He drew you to the edge, hanging you over it as he paused, cool breaths blown before his tongue did a circle, a square, and a letter on your clit that made your ears ring, vision blur and your thighs ache from trembling. 

Made you feel relief.

“All fours for me.” 

It's followed by a demand, an order. One you follow with a scramble. A bend of your back that has him calling you a good girl as he inches his cock in—making your fingers clench around his bedsheets. 

Your body welcomes him.

A blend of feeling good and too much all at once as you stretch around him. Feeling his palm on your spine, sliding down before moving over your hip. Words spoken, grunted into your skin that you’re barely able to discern as your breathing comes back to you, as you relax around him and let him bury himself to the hilt inside of you. 

“Y’can move.” 

And he does. 

Making your body illuminate, a full-on tremble as you course with electricity. Each drag making you see those same spots in your vision. Making you moan, whine, groan.

That is, until you hiss—a different one than when he pinches your ear lobe between his teeth or when he sucks on the skin of your neck a little more intensely than normal. 

You apologise. Tapping to move, finding he releases you, before you explain—Cramp. That’s all you offer. Fearful of crossing another boundary when you move, positioning yourself on your back and letting the low light from his bedside lamp shimmer over him. 

And fuck, is he handsome. Beautiful.

The sheen of sweat makes him glow, makes every inch of him quickly committed to memory. Doing so for as long as you let yourself give before you're yanking his mouth back to yours, panted against it when he slides his cock back, pushing all the way, feeling the fullness you crave in the weeks between seeing him. 

Because it’s a feeling you’d wait for. 

Practically growing parched before you see him again, salivating at the sight of his eyes and hardened stare.

It's a thing you suspect he feels too, virtually confessing it with each thrust, punctuating it, practically marking it on your walls as his arm rests in the space above your head, caging you, allowing him to watch everything that flicks across your face. 

It’s why when you wake up in an unfamiliar bed, in sheets that don’t smell like yours—a wish for his name begins burning there on the tip of your tongue now. All acidic—making a mark. 

It does so as you find your clothes—as you slip your legs inside your jeans and manage to throw on your blouse. 

It’s then you see the photos—stitch together the life your mystery man leads. Seeing that he has a kid, one with a beautiful smile—a child that looks half his and half someone you hope you don’t know. 

A sickness churning, flipping inside of you as you slide out of the bedroom, sneak down the staircase and spot the door you can escape through. 

It’s just, you know nothing about him. 

You don’t know that he likes his coffee black and that he barely eats breakfast. In the same way, you don’t know that he rises early, and he’s already waiting for you because he’d heard the sound of the wobbly floorboards. 

“Sneakin’ out?” 

“Sneaking implies I’m embarrassed.” 

Hand wrapped around a mug—making it look small, insignificant, he takes a sip. “You’re not?” 

“Should I be?” 

Shrugging, he takes another sip. 

You say goodbye. Let the place his name should be linger.

Then you close his door behind you. 

Fuck.

You learn his name is Joel.

Each of the four letters practically burnt into you when he handed them to you. Yet, you'd wished he'd seared them into your skin while his fingers held your chin.

Because then you could call it an accident.

But, he doesn't hand it to you that way. He gives it to you. Willingly. 

Just like he does with slithers of his past, his work, that he comes here with his brother, and then his kid’s name—Sarah. Explains it in as few words as possible. Better than sitting at home alone. Better company here. 

The latter almost makes your lips twitch into a smile. 

Joel gives you all of this on a different kind of night than you normally see him. You're working, for one. Pencil tapping against the book, the numbers make sense—the maths finding their rhythm.

But, even if that all makes sense, he doesn’t. 

Nothing about him adds up. An enigma, a confusion on two legs. Yet, you’re hooked—knew you were when you took him in the bathroom of the bar your friends own and got on your knees for him. When you unbuckled his belt and let it clang, tasting salt and pent-up frustration on your tongue as he filled your mouth with his release. He didn’t ask to see it, but you showed it to him anyway, earning an arrogant smirk before he’s helping you off the ground. 

You tell him yours, exchange him for it as you look down at the books—nudging receipts with the eraser end of your pencil before he leans his forearms on the edge of the bar next to you. 

“Already knew that.” 

Your head turns before your neck catches up. Eyes narrowed, lips parting in a question—except it never leaves your throat. 

“I asked about you.” 

Dropping your pencil, you fight the smile. The one desperate to carve on your face. “Why?” 

“Right thing to do.” 

Brow arching, you smirk—letting that free, allow it to spread up to your eyes as your body twists. 

“Y’think you’d wanna get outta here?”

“With you?” 

He runs his tongue over the front of his teeth, thumb circling his finger. “Think I owe you dinner.” 

Nodding, you close the book—pencil keeping your place, sliding it up, nodding to the person behind the bar before turning back to him.

“You did have dessert the last time we saw each other, Joel.”  

“I did. Should know better—I’m a dad.”

Resting your cheek on your palm, you roll your lips, and watch red rise up his neck as he waits for your answer. “Your shirt is inside out.” 

“Goddamn it.” 

You go with him anyway.

an: I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN PRE-OUTBREAK JOEL. so thank my circle friends because this all began with them, and a faceless man. and now here we are.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #hbo joel miller x reader

[moonstruckme]

i love poly! Marauders♡

could you make a one shot where the reader gives the boys flowers and handmade gifts for the first time after their first month of relationship?

xoxo

Ugh yes our boys don't get enough gifts! Thanks for requesting gorgeous :)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

When Sirius answers the door to the apartment he shares with his boyfriends to find you standing there with a bouquet of flowers, he very nearly panics. Naturally, his first thought is of the worst-case scenario: someone else has gotten you flowers, and you’ve decided to break it off with them and be with that fucker. Alternatively, you’re upset that they haven’t gotten you flowers in nearly a week (would those ones have died already? Sirius knows next to nothing about flowers; Remus is supposed to stay on top of that) and have brought an arrangement for them to give you as a not-so-gentle-nudge. He might be sick.

But you’re not deserving of the snappy response that comes to his lips, so Sirius swallows and tries to find his gentlest voice. “Hey there, gorgeous. What’re those for?”

You grin until your cheeks dimple, flushing in the way Sirius has grown familiar with over the past few weeks: you’re excited, but a bit embarrassed to show it. “Happy one-month anniversary,” you say, extending the bouquet to him as James and Remus come into the room behind him, intrigued by what’s keeping their boyfriend so long at the door. Your eyes dart between the three of them in that nervous way of yours as you explain in a rush, “I know it’s silly, but I’ve just been wanting to give you all gifts for a while now, and no one’s birthday is coming up for months.”

“Thanks, dove.” Remus is the first of them to reply, nudging past Sirius to take the flowers from you. James is grinning so hugely it’s pushing his eyes nearly closed, and Sirius suspects he’s staring at you like you’ve hung the moon. “These are beautiful. It’s a month today, really?”

You nod bashfully. 

“Then shit,” Sirius says, collecting himself, “you’re not silly; we’re ridiculous for forgetting! Come on in, sweet thing.” He grins at you, and when you shy, as you are wont to do, at his brash manner, James takes your hand and encourages you through the doorway. “Do we have some wine or chocolate or something?”

“We do,” Remus replies, disappearing into the kitchen. “And grapes. Are you alright with white wine, dovey?” You hum in affirmation, and Sirius thanks Merlin for his refined boyfriend, without whom he and James would stock the apartment entirely with crisps and pot noodles. 

James takes you to the living room, sitting you beside him, probably not as close as he’d like but wary of making you jumpy. Sirius isn’t so cautious, plopping down next to you so that your legs and hips are squished together simply because he delights in making you flush. 

“Leave off ‘er,” James says defensively, and Remus returns, laying the snacks and refreshments on the table before sitting beside Sirius and encouraging him to lean on his shoulder. Sirius huffs in protest, but goes willingly. 

His problem taken care of, James turns his attention back to you. “Thanks for the flowers, sweetheart,” he says, and Sirius notices that Remus must have found a vase for them while he was in the kitchen. They’re sitting in the center of the coffee table, arranged prettily in water. “You didn’t need to get us a gift, but that’s so lovely of you.” 

You bite your lip, and Sirius knows you have something to say before you say it. “I, um…” you play with your fingers. He wants to take them in his hands, spreading each one between his own. “I’m really glad you like them, but those actually aren’t the gifts I was talking about.” 

Sirius watches as James’ expression turns giddy at the plural there. Gifts. 

You reach into your bag and pull out a pair of gloves. They’re gray, and they look thick, like they’re made out of some sort of knit material. They’re also huge. You extend them to Remus. “I know you can never find ones that fit,” you say hesitantly, “so I’m hoping these might work? I couldn’t measure to get it exactly right, but I think they’re big enough.” 

Remus takes them with something akin to awe in his expression, and Sirius’ mouth goes dry as realization dawns upon him. He’d always thought Remus cut the fingers off his gloves because it looked cool (admittedly, there had been several years when Sirius had copied him for that very reason), but it was because they didn’t fit. His lengthy, slender fingers had to be too long for most gloves. Sirius felt stupid for not realizing it. He glances at James, finding a similar expression of dumbfounded epiphany on his boyfriend’s face. They’d both known Remus for years, and you’d picked up on his plight over the course of a month.

“Did you make these?” Remus breathes, taking the gloves from you gingerly. 

“Mhm,” you nod, proud and sheepish at the same time. “I crocheted them.”

“You…they’re perfect. Thank you, dove.” Remus looks the softest Sirius thinks he’s ever seen him, and he feels like someone’s scooped out his guts and replaced them with syrup. 

“No problem.” Your cheeks dimple as you duck your head, digging through your bag again. This time you emerge with something red, also crocheted, and vaguely rectangular, turning to James.

He looks at you adoringly as he takes it, but it’s clear he’s as clueless about what it is as Sirius feels. 

“It’s a glasses case,” you supply. “I don’t know if you even want one, but you’re always breaking them by knocking them off the nightstand, and I thought maybe it’d help.” You shrink a bit. “Don’t worry about it if you don’t want to use it.” 

“‘Course I’m using it.” James sounds appalled, and he takes your hand in his, squeezing gently until your smile returns. “This is so thoughtful of you, angel. Really, thanks so much. I’m going to use it every night.” 

You grin hugely, all but glowing at his praise, and when you turn back to your bag, and Sirius is almost surprised there’s still one left for him. As if sitting here, basking in the happiness of all the people he cares about most, isn't enough of a gift. 

Still, that doesn’t mean he’s not curious what it is. 

You pass him a small pouch, and you’ve made it purple with a black star in the middle. Sirius loves it without knowing what it’s for. Hell, he doesn’t even care if it has a utility, he wants to frame it on his wall. 

“I know you drop your earbuds a lot,” you say, “so I thought maybe you could put them in here sometimes, to protect them. I put little loops on it in case you want to carry it or attach it to something, but you could just keep it in your pocket, if you want.” 

Sirius takes his earbuds out from his pocket, slipping them into the little case, and they fit perfectly inside. He grins at you, and when you smile back, the corners of your eyes crinkling, his restraint snaps. He lunges for you, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and cradling your head with the other hand. His heart aches, and it's as much for the thoughtfulness and care you put into his own gift as it is for the joy you’ve given to Remus and James. He doesn’t think his heart can handle carrying around this much love. “Thank you,” he murmurs into your hair, and your arms come around his middle, squeezing tight. 

He takes his time in releasing you, but when he does you’re immediately captured by James, who kisses the side of your face haphazardly. Remus has gone mute beside him, but Sirius suspects both boys are feeling overcome by the same desperation to express their appreciation as he is. He doesn’t think they’ll ever get close. 

“Fucking one-month anniversary,” he says, and he sounds breathless even to his own ears. “I hope you’ve kept the night free, gorgeous, because now you have to let us take you out to dinner.”

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders oneshot #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Sub!Miguel X gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, Smut with Little Plot, Blowjobs, Praise, Bondage, Petnames, Edging, Cum Eating, Overstimulation, Inexperienced!Miguel

Summary: No easier way to blow off steam than by blowing off your boyfriend :)

A/N: So much subby Miggy guys. I swear the next one will (hopefully) be different! Also happiest of birthdays to @artisticspivers!

Word Count: 3.9k (Edited)

So, maybe you were a little mad.

But who wouldn’t be? All you wanted to do was spend a nice day out with your boyfriend after not seeing each other for almost a week. But, all you got was a hunkering man trailing behind you as he busied himself on his phone. He had barely spoken a word to you besides a ‘hey, missed you’ and a 'don't you already have something like that?’ when you walked out of the dressing room. He had instantly felt bad when you had decided you had enough and pursed your lips with a quiet, ‘I’m tired. I want to go home.’

He wasn’t trying to do it on purpose, you knew that. Miguel was a busy man and he had a lot on his shoulders. But that didn’t stop you from throwing a pity party for yourself in the passenger seat that quickly turned into silent anger. He was your boyfriend damnit and he should know something like this would upset you! It took everything in you to not whisper something nasty under your breath as every little thing he did wrong today ticked in your head. 

When you had arrived home, you had quickly slammed the car door and made your way up to your shared apartment. Meanwhile, Miguel carried a regretful frown as he followed silently behind you. That upsetting pit in his stomach grew stronger when you didn’t even glance his way as he opened the door for you. You had just walked straight in and dumped whatever you were carrying on the counter and started taking off your shoes and coat. 

“Mi vida, I-” Miguel started with a sigh before you walked around the counter and slammed your hands on it, causing him to jump slightly. 

“Let’s play a game.” You cut in with a voice dripping with mock excitement along with a too wide smile. 

Miguel’s brow furrowed in confusion at the quick switch in your mood. He quickly shook his head and tried again, “I think we should really ta-” 

“Choose a number between 1 and 5.” You had interrupted again, fingers tapping an intimidating rhythm on the countertop. Miguel’s gaze fell to your fingers, more confusion filling his features, “Five?”

“Okay, now-” You said quickly and Miguel snapped his gaze up to your face. “Wait, no, that isn’t my number. I was ju-” 

“Now.” You emphasized, clenching your jaw. So now he wanted to be chatty. Go figure. “Pick a new number: 1 to 5.”

Miguel tried to dampen down his own anger. He balled his fists and flexed his hands before letting out a deep breath. He understands why you’re acting like this, so now he needs to be the patient one. “I pick two.”

He flinched again when you clapped your hands loudly. A more genuine smile formed on your face and the tension in Miguel’s body started to disperse. Okay, Miguel can work with this. You’re already feeling better, so maybe he just needed to play this little… game with you for a little bit. Just until you feel ready to talk and Miguel can find a way to make it up to you. Maybe he can plan a more private date. Maybe bring you to your favorite spot and wine and di- 

“Sit on the couch.” 

Miguel pulled himself from his thoughts and looked up to find that you moved from the counter to stand next to the couch. Miguel tried to ease the furrow between his brows and walked over to you. He took it as a small victory when you didn’t react as he grazed his hand against yours in passing. He took it as an even greater victory when the second he sat down, you were jumping into his lap and connecting your mouth to his. 

Miguel groans as he reciprocates the kiss. His hands instantly start grabbing at your body, squeezing the skin of your thighs and massaging his hands into your ass. In response, your hands reach down to the ends of his shirt and pull it up and over his head. When your lips reconnect, he tries to tease his tongue into your mouth. A soft whine of displeasure is pressed against your lips when you deny him entry. You pull away with a bite and drag of his bottom lip and he looks up at you with hazy eyes. A pleased sigh hums from his throat as you give him one last peck, his lips trying to follow yours when you get up. 

Miguel’s legs are already spread slightly, but you push them further out to make room for your body. Miguel’s half-lidded eyes follow you and his brows knit in confusion as you start unbuckling his belt. He watches silently as you work on unlooping the leather and pulling down his zipper. He can already feel his cock pushing against his briefs, and he shifts away slightly every time your hands get too close to it. Your face already being too close to his too aware cock makes him twitch. He’s sure that if you exhale a little too hard in the right direction, he’ll explode in his pants.

His hands reach down to grab on your wrists gently, stopping you from pulling down his remaining clothes. Your eyes trail up his body, going from his bulge, to his naked stomach, over his chest, and finally to his own red irises. Miguel gulps nervously at the almost threatening look you have on your face and he has to hold onto you a little tighter to resist the urge to let you go like you’ve burned him. “What…what are you doing?” 

The question makes you roll your eyes. Can a man practically built with sex appeal in mind be so naive, even with his inexperience? You make a mental note to go through his search history because there is no way he has never seen someone about to get a blowjob. For now, you resist the urge to reply with ‘the laundry’, and instead shake off his hands. “I told you. We’re playing a game.”

Miguel opens his mouth to question you again, but instead closes it when he can’t think of anything to say. Instead, he lifts his hips slightly off the couch when you tap his hip so you can remove his clothes. They fall to the floor and Miguel squirms as his cock springs up to rest against his stomach. His aching tip has the smallest bead of precum forming over his slit and his face turns a bright red as you watch it build up. 

You creep your hand forward, brushing over his balls and Miguel throws the back of his hand over his mouth to suppress a whimper as his cock jumps in response. His brows are furrowed and his breaths heave against his chest as he watches you wrap your hand around his base. Your hand travels up his length until your thumb presses into his tip. Another whine is suppressed as you bring the thumb to your mouth and suck off his precum. 

You look back up to Miguel’s face, making a show of twirling your tongue over the pad of your finger and humming. Miguel’s eyes take in the sight, loving the way your lashes flutter up at him. God, why did you have to be so goddamn erotic. His free hand quickly reaches down and wraps around his cock in an attempt to keep it from twitching again. He squeezes his hand so hard that it’s almost painful, but he knows if he doesn’t, he’ll end up cumming. God you barely even touched him and he’s already about to explode. 

As if you read his mind, you began giggling. You pop your thumb out of your mouth and remove Miguel’s hand to replace it with yours. It causes a whispered curse to leave Miguel’s mouth as you mutter, “I barely even touched you and you already look ready to fall apart.”

He’s about to disagree, but he cuts himself off with an ‘oh fuck!’ when your tongue kitten licks his tip. He instantly throws his head back over the couch, his hand turning over to completely cover his mouth. A ragged breath escapes into his palm as he tries to calm himself down. He tries to think of anything that can push down the tightening in his stomach, but his brain is short circuiting from the way your warm tongue is licking his head and length. 

 “Shit.” Miguel breathes out when his head falls forward to see you. Your hand still holds onto his thick base and your eyes stare up at him as you swirl your tongue over his tip to collect his precum. He lets out a moan that turns into a choked gasp as your licks escalate to gently sucking his swollen head into your mouth. It’s so warm and wet and it's like nothing he’s ever experienced before. His hand leaves his mouth, revealing that it’s dropped open to let out soft pants. His now free hand reaches out and holds onto the back of your neck in a half-hearted attempt to get you off him. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

His whispered confession causes a small moan to vibrate around his tip and he lets out his own as he reaches his peak. He’s gasping out a combination of ‘please, please’ and ‘I’m coming’ repeatedly as he tilts his head back up towards the ceiling. His salty liquid fills your mouth in thick squirts, and you close your eyes as you savor its flavor with each swallow. Once he rides out the last of his release, you pull your mouth off of him. Your lips brush against his semi-hard cock as you smile up at him and say: “One.”

Even if he wasn’t in his post-orgasm daze, he still would have no clue what you mean. His brows furrowed as he brought his eyes back down to your smiling face. His eyes scan you, trying to find a single hint about what ‘one’ means. When he can’t find it, he lets out a breathless, “What?”

“One, Miguel. That was one. You need four more.” Your explanation is still lost on him. You can still see the clear confusion on his face and you can’t help the chuckle you let out. “The game, Miguel? You chose the number five, remember?” 

The realization quickly hits him and his eyes widen. Choose a number between 1 and 5. An almost scared look crossed his face. Five? How the hell was he supposed to survive four more rounds of this if he came from you practically breathing on him? Pick a new number: 1 to 5. If his first number signified the amount of rounds or how many times he had to cum, then what does the second number mean? Miguel gulped before asking, “And two? What does the second number mean?” 

You simply smiled and shook your head, “You’ll have to find out next time we play.” 

Your answer was less than comforting, but Miguel has little time to question you as you suck him back into your mouth. A sharp hiss leaves Miguel’s mouth and his hold on the back of your neck grows tight. His mouth parts in a silent moan as his hand pushes you further down his cock, letting more of him experience the heaven your mouth causes. Your mouth bobs up and down as you suck him in, your tongue playing with his tip before you go back down. Each lick and suck causes Miguel to blink rapidly, mouth still parted with harsh breaths. 

“Fucking hell, cariño, so fucking good. Mouth feels so fucking good.” Miguel whimpers out as his hips thrust up slightly. 

Sweat breaks on his hairline as he tries to keep his movements shallow to not hurt you. He mumbles small sorrys into the air every time his hips jut forward, and you hum your enjoyment around him as a sign that it’s okay. You force yourself to take more of him in, relaxing your throat and hollowing your mouth. It allows Miguel to hit the back of your throat and he lets out a choked gasp. He stutters out another apology as his hips thrust up again and you gag.

You shake your head slightly, holding him to the back of your throat. The action has Miguel creeping his hand up and into your hair, his other hand running down his face until it stops over his mouth. His apologies turn into hissed curses as he continues thrusting his hips. His head rolls to the side as his eyes glide down to stare at you. You let out a weak moan as he tightens his hold on your head to keep it in place as he fucks your face. 

His thrusts quickly become sloppy and he comes undone when your throat tightens with a gag. He lets out small whimpers and lazily fucks his release down your throat. You blink with tears gathering at the corner of your eyes as you let him, trying to swallow it all without choking. When he pulls out, his hand slides back down to the back of your neck to massage it. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

The question is quiet and paired with a soft, concerned look in his eyes. You quickly shake your head no as you lean forward to kiss him. A soft moan escapes him as his taste clings onto your lips. A satisfied breath leaves his nose as you pull away again. That starstruck look is back in his eyes and he can’t help but whisper out, “You’re amazing, you know that?”

His admiration makes you giggle and your hand comes up to caress the side of his jaw. “You might have to take that back after we’re done. You still have three more to go.”

Your words cause a stressed groan to leave Miguel’s mouth. He quickly starts kissing you again, trying to buy himself extra time. It doesn’t last long though as you quickly pull away and reach for his discarded shirt. Miguel raises a brow as you take his hands and hold them in front of you. Miguel quickly pulls them back, but your hand is quick to grab them again. 

“What are you doing?” Miguel hisses in a whisper as if he’s sharing a secret. You don’t respond, instead trying to tie his hands together as he squirms. 

When you finally get them tied, Miguel tries to undo the knot by moving his wrists. But it does nothing but cause a slight burning sensation and he stops. His eyes leave his binds and go down to your face. You give him a sultry smile before you lower your mouth to his tip and your hand comes back to his base. You stick your tongue out, slapping his tip against it. 

He tries once again to undo the tie, an almost predatory look in his eyes as his brows furrow. He’s about to open his mouth and tell you to untie him, that it’s unnecessary, but you blink innocently up at him and you sink your mouth further onto his dick with a hum. Instead of a protest, a sharp whimper leaves his mouth. His claws dig into the flesh of his hand as he watches you pull off of him, spitting a thick glob of saliva onto his tip and massaging it into his skin with your hand. You make a show of quickly bobbing around him for a few seconds before pulling off again to jerk him off. 

He’s acutely aware of his sensitivity, hips ever so slightly fucking into your hand as he lets out moans and grunts. Every now and then he tries to undo his bondage, only to be stopped with the slight scraping of your teeth or by your hands coming up to hold his hands still. His breathing becomes more desperate and he tries to press his hips further into the couch to give himself a small break. Your mouth instantly follows, staying attached to his dick as you suck him. 

“Fuck, give me a break. Please.” Miguel grits out as he feels his cock throb as you jerk him off again. 

You glare up at him with a shake of your head, solidifying your answer as you vigorously move your head up and down him. Miguel lets out loud groans, blood beading around his nails from how deep they sink into his skin. His hips buck again and his body shakes violently. He lifts his hips as he explodes with a shout. He squirts hard as he whines. The thick ropes come too quick for you to swallow all of it, a trail running down the side of your mouth. 

Miguel desperately starts pleading as you don’t get off him like the other two times before. After you swallow, you quickly go back to bobbing your head again. You hum out, ‘two’ faintly around his cock and he sobs from the stimulation on his sensitive cock. He bites his lip and he presses his back hard against the couch as he closes his eyes tightly. He mutters something under his breath, almost like a prayer, voice beginning to hiccup as tears build up behind his closed lids. As you continue, his words get louder as his voice rises. 

“Fuck! Please! Oh god, please! Stop! Stop, stop, stop. I can’t take it!” He sobs out as he throws his arms into the air and over his head to grip the back of the couch for stability. 

His muscles are tense as they shake and his back arches off the couch as he cries. Loud, watery breaths part from his mouth and he starts babbling nonsense in an effort for you to take mercy on him. It has no effect on you, just making you roll your eyes and give his overused tip hard sucks. Miguel comes quick, everything is too much to him and he lets out loud sobs as tears stain his cheeks. 

When he comes, you finally give him the mercy he was looking for. You pop him out of your mouth, some of his cum getting caught on your chin and lips while the rest streams down his length before pooling at his abdomen. As he releases, your hands untie his shirt and his hands instantly fly to cover his face once they're free. He cries into his hands as his body jolts and spasms. 

“Please, no more. No more, no more, no more. I-i can’t take it, please.” He gasps into his hands, his wrists slightly reddish from being tied up. 

Miguel flinches slightly when you reach up and gently take his hands away from his face. His eyes are glossy from tears and his lips tremble in their pouting form. You coo gently at him, peppering soft kisses to his forehead to calm him down. His hiccups die down to soft whimpers as he closes his eyes and breathes in your scent. Your hands come up to gently cradle his jaw.

“Shh, it’s okay, puppy. You’re okay. Only one more. You can do that right? Can you do that for me, Miggy? Can you give me one more?” You whisper to him, your other hand brushing away tears from his eyes. 

His eyes instantly start tearing up again and his head instantly shakes no, “I-i can’t.”

You shush him again as you press a hard kiss to his forehead. Your hand pushes his sweaty hair out his face and you take his wrists into your hands to massage away any soreness. “Of course, you can. You’ve been doing such a good job so far.”

He tries to process your words, taking a few deep breaths. You both sit in silence for a moment until Miguel’s breath resumes to a normal pace and his body has stopped its hard spasms. When he swallows and whispers a weak ‘okay’, you smile encouragingly at him and get back on your knees. 

You keep your touch light as you grab onto his dick, but Miguel still lets out a soft whine. You gently stroke him to get him hard again, pressing soft kisses to his tip. When he gets to an inbetween state, you gently suck him into your mouth again. A watery moan vibrates from his throat as he begins to harden fully in your mouth. Even with his sensitivity, you can’t help but want to drag this out. You softly release him, holding his cock still as you blow warm air onto his tip. A pained hiss leaves his mouth, face looking hopelessly to the ceiling. 

You continue the action, sucking him off and stopping to blow air onto him every time he comes close to finishing. It causes soft sobs to rebuild in his chest as his tip swells angrily for his final release. He lets out a whine each time, hands clawing into the couch cushions or into his hair as his eyes dart around the room as if looking for something to help him escape your edging. He reaches the point again where he’s overly sensitive and begging for you to give him his release. 

“Please, please let me finish. I can’t. Please.” His voice is scratchy from all his loud moans and whimpers. His eyes are desperate and seem to look past you in a lust-filled daze. 

Your hands come to massage his thighs and you nod, “I need you to do something for me first.”

“Anything. I’ll do anything.” he replies quickly, nodding his head in agreement with himself. 

You hum and kiss his tip again, causing his cock to twitch. “I need you to say sorry. Say you’re sorry for how you were behaving before.”

After finishing your sentence you begin sucking him again. Miguel cries out, yelling out sorry over and over again as his palms come to press into his eyes. When he twitches in your mouth again, you don’t tease him and let him finish. He shouts out and his legs push his body off the couch. 

You take your mouth off of him and lean back to give him room. His body convulses in its suspended position and his cock still twitches and jumps even after he stops spurting out cum. His legs seem to give out as he falls to the couch and sinks into the cushion. He sits there shivering, his chest heaving with heavy sobs as he repeats ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ 

Once he finally calms down, he pulls his hands away from his face. His lashes are wet with tears, and he blinks at you sluggishly. He looks so pretty with his dazed eyes and sweaty skin. You walk over and gently wipe his face and neck with his shirt, slightly cleaning him up. When your eyes meet his, he whispers out like a timid child, “Did I do good?”

His question instantly melts your heart and you have to resist the urge to pout at his cuteness. You smile brightly at him and kiss the tip of his nose. “Of course. Did so good for me, baby.”

Miguel seems to relax with your reassurance and he rests his head over the back of the couch as he lets his body rest. He closes his eyes as the soreness starts to creep in. His eyes only open when you press a cold glass of water to his overheated skin. He graciously drinks some of the water through the metal straw you placed in the glass to make it easier for him. 

You brush your hand through his sweaty locks to push them away from his face as you whisper, "Go take a nap, Miggy. We’ll talk about what happened later.” 

Your words are all he needs before he lets out an affirmative hum and lets his body succumb to exhaustion.

Might be the last subby Miguel post for a while. School is starting up again and I have to finish some WIPs and pre-write some quick stuff in case I get busy!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #miguel ohara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #across the spiderverse smut #atsv miguel #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 #atsv smut #spiderman 2099 smut #sub!miguel o’hara

[rafeandonlyrafe]

pink unicorn

inspired by this adorable video of drew

words: 600

warnings: dad!rafe, mom!reader, very soft and fluffy

“rafe.” you sigh, rubbing your forehead with your fingertips, eyes flicking between his hunched over frame and your daughter. “she doesn't even want it anymore! she's moved on.”

you watch as rosie occupies herself with your phone, giggling every time she presses the button to turn the screen on and off, looking at the picture of herself and rafe on your lock screen.

“she said she wanted it, im going to get it.” rafe grunts, putting more coins into the claw machine. he tries for a fifth time to get the pink unicorn stuffie that your three year old became obsessed with having for an entire minute before moving on to the next sparkly thing. 

“baby, come on.” you groan. you knew when you married him that rafe was stubborn, thankfully it didn't rub off on your daughter, who is the happiest and most agreeable little girl you've ever seen.

“my princess deserves whatever she wants, including this stupid-” rafe jerks the claw machine “fucking- stuffie.”

he groans when the claw machine grips the unicorn, only for it to fall before he can navigate it back to the shoot.

“rafey, please. you've been at this for like five minutes. we can just buy her a unicorn stuffie.” you don't point out that she already owns probably twenty similar ones.

“one more try.” rafe glances at your daughter, frowning when she really is completely disinterested in the toy.

“okay. then can we keep going?” you question. you were supposed to be walking around the mall to look for a present for a birthday party rosie got invited to, of course also getting distracted by everything along the way, rafe bending to whatever store rosie wanted to go into, whether it was candy or video games, anything bright that looked exciting.

“mama.” rosie whines, your phone now sitting on the floor. 

“come here, baby.” you pick rosie up, grabbing your phone at the same time and slotting it into your pocket. some people try to tell you not to baby your toddler so much, but you love being able to carry her around and keep her close, dreading the day that she's too big for you to lift easily.

“daddy, wheres my unicorn?” she pouts as the claw drops the stuffed animal again. rafe just gives you a look as he loads more coins in.

“for real, babe, last try or we are going to the toy store and leaving you here.” you know rosie is just going to find a million things she wants inside of the toy store anyways, probably another five pink unicorns.

rafe nods, concentration overtaking his features. rosie cheers him on from your arms as he hooks the unicorn around the center, claw raising up and bringing it over to the shoot. it falls perfectly down, both rosie and rafe shouting in excitement.

rafe gets the pink unicorn out, holding it out for your daughter to hug into her little arms. “thank you daddy!”

“anything for you my little princess, come here.” rafe opens his arms as rosie practically launches herself from you to snuggle into his chest.

“i wanna introduce pinky to my other unicorns.” she babbes about having a big tea party as rafe glows just looking at her.

“of course.” rafe nods. “let's go home right now so me you and pinky can play together.” you don't point out how all of rosies pink toys share the same name.

“babe!” you call out, following rafe out of the mall towards the exit. “we still haven't gotten our gift!”

“ill order it on amazon!” he calls out as you catch up to him and his long strides. 

“come on, mommy, i wanna play.” rosie pouts, face mimicking her expression with big pleading eyes.

“fine.” you sigh, unable to say no to either of them. “but you have to clean up your tea party when it's over!”

“yesss!” rafe pumps his fist in the air, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips.

“and no real food! you’ll spoil your supper!”

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @folklorsweet @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs

#rafe fluff #rafe cameron fluff #obx fluff #outer banks fluff #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x oc #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x reader #rafe blurb #rafe drabble #rafe one shot #rafe imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron imagine

[hemmingsleclerc]

I'm really loving the dad max content, your style of writting is amazing

I don't know if it's possible, but could you do something where Olivia is hanging out with Checo's kids (Chequito, Carlota, Emilio) and causing chaos in the paddock

I think it would be cute and fun

Lost in the Paddock┃MV1

Omg I love this idea I just imagined it and laugh!😭💕

summary:where max and checo lose their children in the spanish grand prix

It was a sunny morning in the paddock and the excitement for the Spanish Grand Prix was growing. Max Verstappen's daughter, Olivia, and Checo Pérez's children, Chequito, Carlota and Emilio, were full of energy and looked at everything with curiosity. The sound of the engines echoed throughout the place, but the children were more interested in playing hide and seek.

As their parents prepared for the race, the four quickly came up with a plan to explore the paddock together. Unbeknownst to their parents, the mischievous group ventured out, carefully checking all the places.

The paddock was a maze of trailers, trucks and equipment, a perfect playground for the kids. Olivia, being the oldest, had convinced the others to follow her and explore the secret corners that she had already seen before with her father. Unbeknownst to their parents, the little ones had wandered too far and were soon lost in the maze of racing equipment.

Meanwhile, Max and Checo finished their conversation and turned around to find that their children were nowhere to be found. Panic set in as they frantically shouted their names. Max's heart almost burst out of him as he screamed his little girl's name while Checo was just as bad or worse than him.

"Olivia!''

''Chequito! Carlota! Emilio!" echoed through the paddock, but there was no response. The two parents exchanged worried glances and quickly ran out of their garage in search of their children.

Meanwhile, the children had managed to find their way to the center of the paddock, laughing and laughing as they explored the different areas of the different teams. Chequito, Carlota, Emilio and Olivia were in their own world of fun, oblivious to the chaos they were causing.

They managed to reach a place where photos of their parents were displayed on a wall. ''Look! There's my daddy!'', ''Ours too!'' Suddenly, a great idea had occurred to Olivia, what better idea than to leave a nice message for her dad and for everyone to see it, so carefully she took out of her small backpack the markers that her mother had given her on her birthday and with a huge smile, she began to draw hearts on the wall, among other things, while her other three companions saw her laughing.

Meanwhile, Max was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown himself while Checo was madly asking anyone who crossed his path if there was any sign of his children.

Charles, Daniel, Lewis and Carlos had joined the search for the little ones to cover more space and narrow down the possible places they could be.

''Via!Your favorite uncle is looking for you!'' Daniel shouted

''Carlota! Emilio! Checo jr!, Come here! We have a special surprise for you!'' Charles said

''Kids! Roscoe wants to play with you!'' Lewis' turn

Just as concern was reaching its peak, a track official informed Max and Checo that a group of children matching their descriptions had been seen near the merchandise area. With a sigh of relief, the parents rushed to the scene, their hearts pounding in their chests.

There they found the quartet, happily surrounded by team merchandise, trying on oversized caps and sunglasses while devouring different flavored ice creams. The children looked up with innocent smiles as Max and Checo approached, a mix of relief and exasperation on their faces.

Max and Checo shared a look that conveyed relief and amusement at the same time. When the chaos calmed down, the parents couldn't help but smile at the getaway their children had made. With a laugh of relief, they escorted the boys back to the Red Bull Racing garage, ready to focus on the race ahead.

Max lifted his little girl in his arms while he covered her face with kisses.

''Were where you all this time angel?, and who bought you those ice creams?''

''!Uncle lando and uncle oscar daddy!'' Olivia exclamed

''They also bought us these cool caps dad!'' Chequito said to checo

''Yeah, you're not wearing those mclaren caps on our watch kids, redbull ones are better''

As the paddock returned to its normal bustle, Max and Checo were grateful to have their children back safe and sound.And listen to all the mischievous they got up to in their absence.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #dad!maxverstappen #f1 fluff #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 angst #formula 1 fluff #formula one x you #checo perez #sergio checo pérez #red bull racing

[where-dreams-dwell]

*spoilers for One Day*

For people saying ‘it’s tragic, Dex and Em only got 3 years together’ no. They got 15 years together.

Glossing over the span of their life together to sum it up as ‘only 3 years together’ misses all the love and time they had together that wasn’t solely romantic.

Why is their relationship only ‘important’ or ‘counts’ when it’s a romantic one? Maybe there was always romantic love buried in there or growing steadily but there was a whole lot of platonic love there too.

For 15 years they were the most important person in the world to one another, they described each other as their ‘best friend’ and the person they reached out to at every high and low moment. And for the last 3 of those years they were also a couple.

There are loads of examples of Dex reaching out to Em when he’s at his lowest: the last birthday with his mum, then he’s reeling from his divorce, when he’s scared people will hate him on TV. And you *could* read that as pathetic and Em being his emotional crutch, with Dex latching into her. But you could *also* see that as when you’re struggling and low, you just want your best friend. Because they *get* you. And part of being a best friend is being there in those low moments.

And Em has done the same with Dex, just in different ways. That first year out of uni Em had no idea what she was doing; in a job she couldn’t wait to leave, a relationship that didn’t make her happy, not sure where she was going in life or what she was doing. Em writes to Dex often, and doesn’t need him to reply to her, just to read her letters and be *her* emotional crutch and person to vent to.

Even at that breakup-dinner, Em has things she ‘needs to talk about’ and she’s reached out to Dex to do it. We don’t see her discussing it with Tilly, we see her trying to talk about it with Dex. She’s at arguably her lowest moment (hates her job, hates her partner, hates her home) and she wants her best friend to listen to her. Just like he did when she was 24 and thinking about giving up and leaving London, and Dex convinced her to stay and keep going.

So they are emotional crutches *to one another*. That’s also part of being someone’s best friend.

And for all the low moments Dex also wanted to share his best moments with her too: when he’s excited about the TV pilot he calls Em to say ‘the only person I want to share this with is you’, and begs Em to find a way to be there. Yes this is also him dismissing and ignoring her achievements, yes this is self absorbed and rude and at the height of his egomania, but in that moment of triumph he only wants his best friend there with him.

When they see one another again at Tilly’s wedding Em is brave and self assured when she reveals she’s ‘thought of you every day, missed you every day’, and that even though they are friends again now the fact that Dex will have a wife and child ‘feels a bit like loosing you all over again. Because people with families have different priorities…’ That’s how close they were before.

The sentiment that ‘we grew up together’ is really true, for the both of them. They were very different people throughout their lives, and if they had tried to be a romantic couple earlier there is no guarantee that version of them would have lasted the course.

Would Emma have stayed with a peak-of-his-tv-fame Dex, partying and living life ‘to the full’? Or would they have explosively ended and decided they were too different for one another for it to ever work?

Would Dex have even tried for a career in TV or a full year of travelling if he’d become a couple with Emma after Uni? Or would he have done something else but grown resentful of what-could-have-been?

If they had sorted out their issues and apologised after their fight and Em had left Ian, would Em have found the strength to turn rock bottom into a spring board and finally write her book? Would she have even hit that bottom at all? Or would the hook have remained a pipe dream while she continued as a teacher, happy with Dex but professionally unfulfilled?

We will never know what could have been, and that doesn’t necessarily make those alternatives the ‘better’ option that they ‘missed out on’.

Maybe they would only ever have had 3 years together as a couple and getting it in their mid 30’s the way they did was their most mature and peaceful version.

So yes at times their relationship feels like it’s moving toward the inevitable conclusion of a romantic partnership. But the time before they get there wasn’t wasted or unimportant or unnecessary. And they were always together.

#one day netflix #one day #emma morley #dexter mayhew #friendship #platonic love #romantic love #star crossed lovers #I just get frustrated when people boil ‘they always loved one another’ down to ‘oh so it was romantic from the start and never changed’ #like bitch the power of friendship?? #the bonds of brother/sisterhood and all that jazz #to say nothing of platonic soulmates #or love that changes and grows #spoilers

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {3}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: It's Charles birthday and you have to find the perfect gift. Warnings: 18+ only, allusions to smut, alcohol WC: 2.3k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four

Charles’ Birthday Week 2022 “I need you to steal something for me.”

Lando blinked twice as he tried to compute your words before giving up. “What?”

Despite hearing the shower still running, cupped your hand around his ear and whispered, “I need you to go to Charles’ apartment and steal a race suit. It’s for his birthday and I’m running out of time. Please?” 

He perked up knowing you weren’t going to actually get him arrested and started to get a little excited as he nodded. “Okay, but you have to keep him distracted so I can borrow his keys.”

“You’re not even going to ask what I’m doing?” 

“No, I want to be surprised too.” Lando grinned and kissed your nose before getting out of bed and dressing in record time to leave. 

You had spent a long time wondering what to get Charles for a birthday gift when he could literally afford to buy everything he wanted. It had only been when an old video began circulating online a few days ago that the idea sparked to life. You just hoped Lando remembered to disable the alarm.

“Where’s Lan?” Charles asked when he found you alone in bed. 

For a moment you were struck by how good he looked with just a towel slung around his hips and water running down his chest. “He had to pop out, shouldn’t be too long.”

Charles smirked as he climbed onto the bed, the towel falling away as it got caught on the bedpost. “That’s a shame,” he chuckled, caging you beneath him as droplets of cold water fell onto your skin. “He can join in when he gets back.”

Your lips parted to meet his but before they could touch an alarm sounded on Charles’ phone and he pulled back with a frown. “That’s my home security…” He reached for the phone and you snatched it from him before he could open the live video feed and see what Lando was taking. “What are you doing?”

“It’s just Lando,” you admitted as you buried the phone under your pillow. “I sent him on an errand to your place so we could have some alone time.”

“Why would you do that?” Concern contorted Charles face as he sat up and pulled the sheet around his body. “Is this not working for you?”

“No, no, shit, it’s not like that. I love what we have.” The lie didn’t make him relax like you were hoping and your stomach knotted with the need to erase the look from his face. “I love you, and Lando.”

“Moi aussi,” he replied but he still kept his distance as he tried to understand. “Do you want to spend time one-on-one, is that it? I should have offered…”

“Charles, please, shut up,” you groaned as your head fell into your hands. “I don’t want that, I always want us to be together. When we are together I feel like I finally know where I belong, like I have a proper family, and I really wanted to do something special for your birthday to thank you for giving me that and now the surprise is ruined.”

The sheet slipped from his fingers as he reached for your hands and pulled them away from your face. “My birthday?” 

“Since I have to share you with everyone else for your party I thought I could give you a present early but I needed Lando to help. Now it’s not a surprise.”

“I still don’t know what it is, so that’s a surprise,” he reminded softly. 

You sighed and gave him a small nod. “I guess that’s the most important part. But the suspense is gone.”

“I think I can help with that,” he smirked and reached under the pillow to grab his phone before calling Lando on speakerphone. “Mon cher, where are you?”

“Well, uh, you see, we…needed milk,” Lando lied weakly before you heard the bell of the convenience store door in the retail shops downstairs before Monsieur Verne greeted him like an old friend.

“Oh, I thought, nevermind. I should call the police, I think someone has broken into my apartment.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth before you could laugh but a small choked sound broke through at Charles' growing amusement. 

“Fuck, okay it was me, please don’t call the cops,” Lando admitted as the elevator pinged and you heard his panicked voice repeat the request before the line cut out as it always did on the ride to the top. 

“You are so mean!” you gasped but it ended in laughter as Charles tossed his phone to the side table. 

“He lied to me,” Charles chuckled with a shrug and you both turned at the sound of the front door slamming shut and feet sprinting through the house. 

“I don’t think that can really count as a lie,” you teased before Lando filled the doorway, a bottle of milk in his hands even though there was a new bottle in the fridge. “Hi baby.”

“Please don’t call the cops,” he pleaded as he climbed onto the bed. “I forgot the passcode again.”

“No shit,” you giggled as you combed his hair out of his face and he relaxed enough to see the glint of mischief in Charles’ eyes. “He’s fucking with you.”

You took the bottle from his hands as Charles reached for him, tugging him against his body before taking his breath away with a heated kiss that left Lando in a daze. “No more lying,” Charles warned as he nipped at Lando’s bottom lip just hard enough to make him whimper. 

Raising your hand, he turned his attention to you and the small smirk tipping up your lips. “Yes, amour?”

You bit your lip and eyed the flushes on their cheeks, wanting that heat for yourself. “I lied too.”

Your fingertips hurt and you remembered just how much you hated sewing when you were younger. You thought needlework would be like riding a bicycle and it took a few stabs to prove right as you looked at the final product with satisfaction. Just in time too.

The big celebration was set to start in a few hours but you and Lando were going to meet Charles at his house to get ready for his birthday party together. He had spent the afternoon at his mother’s with his brothers and it was times like this that you wished the relationship could be made known. Then you wouldn’t have to miss sharing these moments with him and his family. 

Next month would be the same with Lando’s birthday.

“Spitz, baby, ready to go?” Lando had been serious about wanting to be surprised and had kept out of the office which was filled with your computer desk and sim-setup. 

“Ready!” You grabbed the bright red gift box and folded Charles’ race suit up before carefully placing it in and sealing it up with a big bow. “What did you get him?”

“Another bottle of Tom Ford.”

“Nice,” you grinned. It was certainly a favourite for all of you and Charles knew it since he wore it more than any of the other bottles he owned, depleting the bottle quite a bit in the last few months. 

Lando carried the box for you, balancing his smaller one on top, and grabbing the keys for your Mercedes Maybach that was parked in the garage next to his Fiat Jolly. The heavy tinting that your car could provide was definitely needed since it was going to be impossible to keep your hands to yourself. Lando hadn’t even changed into his clubbing clothes and he looked mouthwatering, it was only going to get harder for you when he and Charles were dressed up in their finest.

It seemed like all of Monte Carlo had taken to the streets for their Saturday night and it was gridlocked. The minutes ticked away and you ground your teeth as you debated parking and making the rest of the short journey on foot to Charles apartment.

“We’re going to be late if this doesn’t start moving,” you grumbled and Lando reached across the driver’s seat to squeeze your thigh.

“Relax, Spitfire, it’s not race day.”

“Not helping, Norris. I’m not good with going slow.”

His warm laugh filled the car and his hand ran dangerously high up your thigh. “Don’t I know it.”

There was hardly any time to get dressed when you finally arrived at Charles’ and you were in such a rush that you completely forgot about the present in your car. It wasn’t until you climbed in the backseat and Charles found it waiting on his seat in the front.

“C’est risqué?” Charles asked as he lifted it up and gently shook it beside his ear, trying to figure out what it was.

You chuckled and leaned through the middle of the seats to fix up a few strands of his hair that had gone amiss. “It’s not a double ended dildo, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“So I can open it with the others?” You were suddenly nervous but gave him a nod because shying away wasn’t in your nature.

The exclusive club was just ahead and you knew it would be a few hours before you would be able to indulge yourself again so you trusted Lando not to crash and half climbed through the seats to kiss Charles.

“Happy almost Birthday.”

Three tables had been pushed together for all the presents the guests had bought but, after Lorenzo and Arthur had carried out a large cake and everyone had sung Happy Birthday, it was your gift he picked up first.

“Is it kinky?” Pierre asked in your ear as he draped an arm over your shoulder. “Personalised, diamanté cock rings?”

“I swear you think about our sex life more than we do,” you teased with a prod to his ribs. Charles scanned the crowd but like magnets his eyes found yours almost instantly and you gave him a smile as he tugged the bow open.

The material shook slightly in his hands and you wondered if maybe you had overstepped the line when he lifted it out of the box. Beside you, Pierre gasped and his arm fell away as Lando slipped in the narrow space.

“I, I, um, saw an interview,” you stammered as you felt the hundreds of eyes on you. Lando placed a comforting hand on the small of your back and you tried to calm your racing heart before continuing. “And you mentioned your grandma and your race suit and I thought you might like…”

Charles ran his hand over the stitching where you had unpicked the Shell logo, replacing it with a cross. “I love it. Thank you.” He slung the racing suit over his shoulder and crossed the floor to pull you into a friendly hug but his words were certainly more as he hid his lips in your hair. “I love you.”

Max found you as the lights dimmed and the party started to get into full swing. Lando had disappeared into the DJ booth while Charles was being pulled every which way by his friends and family wanting a minute of his time.

“That was nice of you, the gift,” Max said after he ordered two gin and tonics. “Kind of weird too.”

“I'm still more normal than you.”

“Debatable, we are equally fucked up,” he argued, passing one of the drinks to you. “Didn’t know you could sew.”

“You learn a whole lot of useful skills when you can’t afford new things,” you murmured into your glass before taking a sip. “It was either darn secondhand, worn and torn race suits or not race at all.”

“Fuck,” Max swore and tipped his glass back to gulp a few mouthfuls down before changing the subject from the reminder of your fathers lack of decency to provide for all his children equally. “What have you been up to? I hardly see you anymore.”

“I see you literally everyday at work.”

“Yeah, but that’s work, it doesn’t count. You haven’t raided my fridge in weeks.”

“I’m maturing, Max Emilian,” you said as you clapped him on the shoulder, “buying my own groceries and potpourri. You should be grateful, not asking me twenty questions.”

You turned away from the bar and grinned at the sight of Lando at the mixing board, a headset over one ear as he bobbed his head to music he was making. The dance floor was full of people from the F1 world but there were still a lot of faces you didn’t recognise and you wondered if Charles would’ve introduced you to them under other circumstances.

“Fine, no more questions if you come to breakfast tomorrow,” Max bartered and you nodded absentmindedly, throwing a thumbs up as you made your way to the dance floor.

You spotted Charles’ white shirt and snuck up behind him to cup your hands over his eyes. Rising up on your tiptoes your lips brushed the shell of his ear and you purred, “Hey, big boy, wanna dance?”

Your hands were torn away and you frowned as Charles turned, but the eyes that met yours weren’t the right shade. “Fuck me, you look like your brother from behind.”

“He went to the bathroom,” Arthur said as he jutted his thumb towards the dark hallway. “Do I even want to know…?”

“Nope, definitely not,” you cut him off. “Just have a few more drinks and forget this happened, yeah?”

“I don’t think I am ever going to forget you calling me, well Char, big boy, Verstappen,” he laughed.

“She’s not a Verstappen, petit frère,” Charles corrected him as he threw his arms around the both of you and squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “What did I miss?”

“She called me-”

“Arthur!”

Arthur clamped his mouth shut with a laugh that rocked his shoulders and he wriggled out of his brother's grasp to disappear into the crowd. Charles kept his arm around you as he started dancing along to the music Lando was playing, both of their smiles brightening when their eyes met.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” he asked in your ear.

Your nose wrinkled and you shook your head. “Nothing, just an inchident.”

Click here for part four.

Taglist: @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich  @omgsuperstarg @starwarssavy23 @fdl305 @faeb1tch42069 @sweetestrose569 @pleasantducktimetravel @zendayabelova @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @belennasif @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19  @destourtereaux @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel  @chonkybonky @jpg3  @bangtanxberm @ohthemisssery @eviethetheatrefreak @kimi240302 @formula1mount @storyteller-le @dakotali @daddyslittlevillain @elijahslover @formulas-bitch @faithm120601 @ynbutbetter @allabouthappiness @simpingcorner @chasing-liberosis @jspitwall @sociallyinepludi @ru-kru @gillybear17 @topguncultleader @be-your-coffee-pot @sophie-reads-too-much

#charles leclerc x reader x lando norris #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 rpf #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine

[thekissofaphrodite]

Can you maybe do Clarisse x fem! Child of Hypnos?? I don’t think I’ve seen anything of that dynamic and I’d like to see how you would write it!

OKAY. IM ACTUALLY RLLY EXCITED ABT THIS SINCE JUST LIKE ANON SAID, I'VE NEVER SEEN A DYNAMIC LIKE IT BEFOREE.

Sweet Dreams

Clarisse La Rue X Daughter of Hypnos!Reader

Summary: A shared moment with clarrise with a flick of your finger.

Warnings: Hypnokinesis, people passing out and language

Author's note: Okay, I'm actually tired of some writers portraying a child of hypnos who likes to sleep... yeah, sure, their dad is the God of sleep, but that doesn't mean they just slump on their bed and snore away! They're also powerful! If you read the books !SPOILER ALERT! Hypnos literally knocked an entire city to sleep before the battle of Manhattan for Kronos. Why can't we portray his children like that? 🤨 No hate! Just speaking facts <33

CHILDREN OF HYPNOS DESERVES SOME RECOGNITION!! (coming from cabin 7)

——

You missed your girlfriend so much.

She was in archery and capture the flag today, but you two barely got enough time to run to each other before she was bombarded by tasks from Chiron.

You saw the way her eyes would soften from afar, giving you a discreet sympathetic look while she went on a rampage on her siblings ready to stab them into kebabs using her spear. But she knew you'd find a way to get to her, she always knew.

and you always do.

It wasn't long before every camper eventually dozed off after a fun sing-a-long around the campfire, singing their hearts out about their godly parent, minus a Demeter Girl complaining about getting a fern for her birthday instead of a car like all her friends.

So here you are, pulling your night robe closer as you impatiently wait for your father to caress Clarisse's siblings to sleep so you can have a moment with her.

But your father was taking way too long.

you have been hiding behind the cabin for hours, Listening to the unpleasant way the swords and spears of the Ares cabin got sharpened and big boisterous faces laughing at eachother. Clarisse was in her bunk, her arms crossed with a seemingly frowning expression. Every laughter made by her siblings made her more and more annoyed.

Every minute that passed made you more agitated until you finally snapped.

You stood behind the cabin and held your hands, focusing on the heartbeats and every breath that they exhaled, The sound around you became indistinct and fuzzy, the time seemed to slow down. A translucent light smoke seemed to snake inside the Cabin before it swirled around Clarisse' siblings, it took a few moments before their eyelids got heavy, their breathing ragged. And sure enough, there was a soft thud where their body fell.

It took you by surprise. It also snapped Clarisse out of her thoughts. Seeing her siblings who were talking lively minutes ago dozing off turned her off, She stood up alarmingly, ready to fend herself to any attacks of intruder.

When she saw you, her tense body softened, the beam on your face was a little unreadable, but she couldn't help but smile.

You ran and threw yourself into her arms, she caught you easily, carrying your weight like nothing.

"I did it, Clar!" You squealed, Clalrisse looked at you, confused.

"Did what, Baby?"

"My father finally blessed me! I get to use my powers, i can't believe this, did you see?!" You were babbling like a baby, words being thrown at her in hyperplaps, but she listened, never letting you go in her arms. She listened and remembered everything.

Like the time you were sobbing in her arms, after multiple failed attempts on praying to your father, it hurt her. She remembered when she used to devote herself to Ares, offering him big chunk of brisket and the freshest strawberries on her plate, just for him to answer her prayer, but it never worked, until finally he had enough of her, and gifted Clarisse a spear to shut her up.

But seeing you happy for finally being able to have powers, she felt something inside her change.

Clarisse tightened her arms around you, placing her nose to your hair, inhailing your scent.

"I'm proud of you" she pulled away and placed her hand against your cheek. She was slowly analyzing the color of your eyes, carefully studying each and every details your face had, then she slowly reached to your lips, the color was a mix of peach and pink, assuming it was from the lipgloss, but it looks so deliciously kissable right now.

Her hands reached the back of your head and before you know it, her lips were against yours, an arm wrapped around your waist while pulling you close.

"I love you, did you know that?" Clarisse whispered on your lips, "i doubt it" You laughed, falling over Clarisse' soft bunk bed as she kissed you once more.

An extra for you guys since i disappeared too long :>

——

There were soft groans and mumbles coming from Clarisse' siblings, it was already 3:46 am.

"What happened?" Asked Sherman while rubbing his temple.

Clarisse rolled her eyes at her brother, Sherman, glancing at their weapons leaned against their bunk.

"Nothing, i guess you two spent way too long gossiping that your eyes eventually took it themselves and took a rest" she said, Clarisse was trying not to grin at her siblings, knowing well that it was all her girlfriend's doing.

"Huh... what did you do when we're out then?" One of her brothers, Ellis asked.

"The usual, inspection and lights out"

"Really?" Both brothers said in unison.

"Yes, don't look at me like I'm lying, unless you want a spear up your ass" Clarisse snapped, rolling over and hugging her pillow to sleep.

Both brother looked at eachother and quietly snickered, i guess they'll keep hush about that peach and pink lipgloss smudge near clarisse' neck.

And they'll definitely tell the others tomorrow.

#clarrise pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #xy/n #thekissofaphrodite #clarisse la rue x reader #dior goodjohn #wlw #child of hypnos #percy jackson

[katsukikitten]

Handing Katsuki father's day cards that are for his own dad or yours and he needs to "read and sign it" but as he's reading it his brow starts to furrows.

"Sweetheart, ya got the wrong cards." He's reading it for the third time now.

"I got the right ones." You're trying not to giggle before he's rolling his eyes and reading the card aloud.

"You're not just an amazing father," he flips it open, "You're going to be an amazing grandfather too."

"Yea baby that's the right card." You hum, stepping into the kitchen to get the final card and present.

"Baby, it isn't. We don't have kids. Unless ya mean our cats but then they've been grandparents." He tosses the card down, rising to help you find the backups he's assuming you're looking for. This wasn't the first year you'd accidently gotten the wrong card or one that was just slightly off, he thinks nothing of the message.

Barely had any caffeine as the two of you rose early to get ready to host his parents and yours.

"Katsuki, it is the right card." You say, pressing another card into his hands, no envelope or anything. Just thick white card stock with black letters and an image of white new balance shoes.

"It's almost time for these bad boys." He scoffs, looking at what the world has deemed the official dad shoe, he looks up to see a box in your hands, "Sweetheart, what the fuck? I hate these ugly ass shoes. Ya know that."

He's got this smile to his face the one where he thinks you're being too playful and silly, every now and again you two get each other gag gifts. You're surprised he hadn't caught on yet especially since you always joked that the second you knew, you'd be getting him "those ugly ass dad shoes."

"I know." You both share a laugh, you pressing the shoe box into hands, "Just open it. They'll be fun to wear today, goes with the theme."

"What's the fuckin theme? Dads?" He opens the box and sees the shoes but something is taped to the top of the box. A grainy picture in black and white, a blob in the circle and when he lets his eyes focus as best they can without his glasses perched on his nose, he thinks he sees a very specific shape.

He rips it from the box, bringing the film closer and yes he can see a nose and his face morphs into complete surprise. You giggle as you watch him figure it out, which you swore you wouldn't be able to get this far without him figuring out why you'd been feeling so sick lately.

"No fuckin way." It's low and for a split second you think he isn't excited, then he locks eyes with you and he gives you that look. The one where he's smiling but his brows furrow up and his eyes aglow with unshed tears like you are his world, like you're giving him the world, and he's putting the shoes down to gently pick you up and twirl you around.

"A baby. We're having a fucking baby." He's pressing kisses to your cheeks when he sets you on your feet, if you thought you were spoiled before you'd be rotten by the time this pregnancy was done.

"A baby." You repeat back to him, your own excited tears clinging to your lashes, ones Katsuki gently kisses away.

"How long?"

"Three months. It was really hard to keep a secret but I really wanted to do that shoe thing I teased you about. I've got the receipt so we can return them I'll-"

"Nah I've got the perfect idea for 'em."

An hour later after a shared shower and rapid fire questions, Bakugou is coming down the stairs, he's got some ugly ass jean jorts you gifted him as a gag for his birthday two years ago before giving him his real gift and one of his dad's old white tees he tucked into the waist band of the shorts and of course his new white new balance shoes.

"You look ridiculous." You giggle in your sundress, somehow he made the outfit a little hot. You were sure Bakugou could make anything look hot and here was living proof.

"Better get used to it Sweetheart, this is how I'm gonna look when I put another one in ya." He puffs his chest out, smoothing his big palms over his shirt as you roll your eyes.

"I've made a monster." The door bell rings, when you go to rise, Katsuki gently presses you back into the couch by your shoulder as he gets the door for his parents. He opens the door with a sense of pride that comes with being the cocky pro hero, looking much larger than life.

His mother is unphased.

"Oi, I brought that stuff you- Why are you dressed like a fuckin dad from the 90s?" Mitsuki makes a face before she processes what he's wearing, "Oh my fucking GOD OH MY FUCKING GOD MASARU! WE'RE GONNA BE GRANDPARENTS. YER GONNA BE A GRANDPA! RIGHT RIGHT?"

She pushes past her son, a quick squeeze to his forearm before she's honing in on the daughter in law she already adored and now even more.

Masaru quirks his brow and Katsuki nods.

"I'm so happy for you son." He hugs Katsuki the way men do, a quick tight squeeze before a clap on the back, Masaru tries not to let the tears slip past his eyes as Katsuki's life plays on fast forward in Masaru's mind. He remembers how Mitsuki told him they were expecting, remembers holding him for the first time and thought his whole world view shattered and changed. Remembers his first words and steps. Remembers his first mishap with his quirk and how Katsuki had blown the coffee table sky high. He remembers him growing taller and taller, going to UA, figuring out how to be a better person as he grew in size. How Katsuki called him and his ma in the middle of the night the first time he hit the top ten rankings. And again when he was number one.

How he took his dad out to lunch, wiping his palms on his pants like he did when he was nervous to ask his dad how he asked Mitsuki to marry him. He smiles, tears slip past anyway as he stares at his broad shouldered son adding one final comment that makes Katsuki's throat close up in the best way.

"I can't wait to watch them grow up to be as great as their parents and more."

#katsuki fluff #bakugou fluff #kitten writes bakugou 🖤🐈‍⬛ 🖋️ #father bakugou #fathers day bakugou 🖤🐈‍⬛ #kitten soft hours #bakugou soft hours #just a silly thought

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Treasures of the Fraud

♡ featuring: pantalone x f!reader

♡ summary: it's been forever since you've seen your friend, and as the hero of liyue, a new interruption has arisen. you pursue it, only to find memories awaiting you. wc: 9.1k+ (D:)

♡ cw/tw: long lonnggg fic, obsession, mentions of murder, mention of suicide, mentions of blood, manipulation, toxic pantalone, mean pantalone, possessive, spanking, degradation, mild praise, fingering, thigh riding, missionary, overstim, begging, edging, comeshot, pet names (darling, slut)

notes: helloooo!! ive been slow to get stuff out college is kicking my ass rn so sorry. not proofread so i apologize for any mistakes. I can't wait to have more time :) art by yion_yi on ig! <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

12 years ago 

“Come get me!” 

The boy with inky curls spiraling down his back dips through trees, ducking under low hanging branches embellished with vibrant autumn foliage. Messy blends of pink and purple melt across the slowly bleeding sun carried into the night. His silhouette resembles that of a malevolent spirit peeking behind the boughs, leaping over tangled twigs and shallow ditches. His excited screeches signal you to chase after the leading direction. You’re both screaming and laughing down the undoubtedly dangerous shortcuts. If your mother knew about the adventurous risks you were taking at 13, you’d never leave the house again. Tag is a troubling game—despite the thousands of times you’ve played with him, you regularly end up being “it”. You don’t care about losing, though; having someone to call a friend is enough.  

You turn into a clearing with columns of trees overseeing your small presence, hundreds of them. The colder night is rising, not a celestial body to shield.  In this deep blue void, the leaves seem to be aggrieved at your interruption of some secret meeting, angry and smiling faces crumpling in the whispering wind. You spin around frantically, looking for signs or laughter, but neither reveal themself. It’s quiet besides the downy linger of grass. Your shoulders are snatched back and shaken to a rattling shock. You scream, and he laughs. 

“Rahhh! Did I get you?” he jests. Your eyebrows narrow, and you push him lightly to a stumble. 

“You scared me!” 

“Hah, that’s the point. C’mon, it’s late. Let’s go.” He's scared too, swiftly grabbing your hand as you both brave the darkness back to the village. 

“We should’ve been home a while ago” you say quietly. You feel the chill in your bones and press yourself closer to him. 

“Yea.” He holds your hand tighter at the sound of a small rock bouncing down a steep hill. 

“I had fun today. Let’s do this again tomorrow.” 

“I have something to tell you.” 

“Okay.” 

“I’m moving in the morning” he states. It was nonchalant, but your stomach turns a churning sickness. One you can’t understand yet, it makes you uneasy. 

“Oh. Okay, then.” It isn't okay, not in the slightest. But it had to be. Your best friend of 8 years looks at you, aiming to register the gravity of the situation. You both say nothing, but tears start to brim in your eyes in the silence. You wipe them with your arm. 

“Will you miss me?” he asks. 

“A lot.” 

“I’ll miss you too. Lots and lots.” He sways your interlocking hands. You pass by vacant homes tattered and aged by abandonment, overgrown with invading ivy. Homeless reside, caring each other to warmth from the freezing draft. You were lucky to have a home in this little forgotten sector of Liyue. It's a small, unfortunate room, with holes in the roof that drips when it rains and bags over the windows to keep the heat in. The stove never works, and you share a bed with your mother, but every birthday she makes sure to save just enough for a slice of cake with one candle. There isn’t more you could ask for. Everyone in the village suffered from poverty but they made it work, sharing crops and dairy to persevere until the next year. That’s how you met him, sitting on a rock as your mother collected rations. You perform two pebbles in your hands, mumbling sea shanties while imagining voyage on a grueling journey—he sat next to you. 

“Those aren’t dolls. They’re rocks.” 

“You’re a rock” you retorted.  

“No, I’m not.” 

“Do you want to be a rock?” 

“...That’d be kinda cool.” You gave him a pile of pebbles, and he joined the trip. 

You’re getting closer to the village, still processing who you’ll play with once he’s gone. You glance at him, he’s spaced out in a faraway stare. You crave the power to read minds. 

“Can we talk about something? I’m getting sad” you sniffle. 

“What should be talk about?” 

“What are you going to do after you move?” 

“I’m gonna be super rich” he assures, looking up at the starless sky as if a meteor would shoot across and grant his wish. “What about you?” 

“I’m going to save the world” you proclaim.  

“Cool. I hope you do.” 

“Me too.” 

You arrive at your makeshift door drawn together with scraps of wood and twisted rope for hinges. A dim candle glimmers inside, most likely your vexed mother waiting for your tardily return. He makes space for your entry, and you undo your hands for the last time. Before you go, he snatches your wrist. His eyes are foggy, cheeks an anxious tinge of pink. He isn’t sure what he’s feeling, but the strings in his heart are tense. His mouth shapes to say something, but nothing returns. 

“Yeah?” 

“...I... I’ll really miss you a lot” he whispers with a lump in his throat.  

“Then don’t forget me, okay?” 

“I won’t.” 

“You promise?” you say and raise your pinky towards him. He curls around it. “I promise.” 

“Good. By the way, you’re it now.” 

“I’ll get you back when I see you again!” he chuckles. You bid your goodbyes, unaware that it would mark the unforeseen conclusion. 

Leaves crunch under your feet as you make your leisurely traverse to Liyue Harbor. It’s just before sunrise and you finished helping the elderly in Qingce Village carry copious amounts of heavy produce to their homes. The thankful candies from seniors' jingle in your pocket as you stretch your weary arms. Your mom offered to cook, but you're determined to locate the best commissions Katheryne had before afternoon. “Maybe I’ll pick up some rice buns” you think out loud at the rumble of your growing appetite. You still had a long way to go before you got to the harbor. 

This was your new normal. After your thundering battle with Ningguang and Keqing against Osial, you became an example of Liyue’s triumph. You also became more aware of Fatui tactics, wiping out their swarms with the raging fury of your pneuma and swinging vision. Days of grueling bloodshed resulted in your victory, cementing you as the lionheart of Liyue. Beat up and bruised, the only request you made after your fight was a hot meal and a place for your mom to retire. They delivered both, and you used your recent hero status to provide help to the villagers where needed, be it casual favors or ruthless assault on Fatui agents. You were neither rich nor poor, and lived off the land and kindness of the Liyue Qixing. They often suggested you focus on less mundane tasks, but to you, the most vulnerable age groups warranted priority. There was something about the lighthearted innocent squeals of children and mellow grandparents rocking in their wooden chairs that made you protective to an almost volatile extent. 

Bustling interactions of trade and commerce carry through the wind as you enter the harbor—a sound that’s brought you peace for years. The smell of food vendors has you drooling instantly. As you devour the complimentary rice bun, you feel the yank of a little hand on your skirt. You look down and a boy with brown hair searches for familiarity in your face. You recognize him, babysitting him numerous times. You kneel and pat his head, but he doesn’t react or move.  

“Hey, what’s up? Where are your parents?” you question, briefly scanning your immediate area for his family. He’s hesitant to speak, as if he can’t find the panicked words, and rushes into your arms. You hug him instinctively and let him sniffle into your shoulder. You pick him up in your grasp and raise his head with your other hand so that he’ll hopefully be open to your compassion.  

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” The boy wipes his chubby tomato-red face. “Grandma is on the floor, what do I do?” You quell your rising nerves to suppress his alarm and speak calmly.  

“Where is she?” 

Speed walking towards the destination, the commotion of a small crowd surrounds a kneeling woman in the distance. She’s on her sun-spotted hands and knees, wailing for some bygone Archon. “Grandma!” he yells and jumps out of your arms. You run after him, relieved that the worst case scenario hadn’t occurred. You push through the group and get eye level with her, forehead pressed to the ground spouting religious scripture. 

“Are you okay? Do you need medical assistance?” Wise sunken eyes wrinkled with age and torn by tragedy stick to your heart. Her feeble hands encapsulate yours, and tears stream down her cheeks. “They took my baby!” she rasps, rocking back and forth. “Who did?” you ask, and she weeps harder. “They took her memory...my baby, my daughter!” You support her weight and lift her hunched figure off the pavement. “What did they look like, ma’am?” 

“A black hood...red mask” she recalls shakily. Instantly miscellaneous chatter ensues. They whisper nervously in each other's ears, he who shall not be named steals their voices. “Fatui probably got ‘er” you hear the mumble of one. Fatui. Your blood boils at the word, and you direct your view to the shrinking man with hands in his pockets. “‘He’ got all of us” he scoffs. “Did they hurt you guys, too?” you ask, and they stare. They’re pained but accepting.  

“500,000 mora.”  

“194,000 for me.” 

They list off their debt one by one, and you’re horrified at the accumulating number. They seem to endure, however; no longer phased by the incurable tally haunting their lives. “H-how are you paying any of this?” 

“We can’t. It adds up. Interest, late payments, it always does. So, we give everything, and ‘he’ takes everything, until we have nothing left. We die poor without a possession to our name” a woman sighs. As a child, you heard of the loan sharks that purposely fed false promises to the poor, and once they were reeled in, charged insurmountable payments to blackmail—it was the origin story of most people in your birthplace. Your soul aches for them, but is there anything you can do? 

“...I’ll help you, all of you. I’m sure I can-” 

Ningguang arrives. She's a nurturing figure to you, the kind that asks if you’ve been eating well and politely scolds you.  “What happened?” You lead the tired elder to the Jade Chamber, and she tells her story through choked sobs. You didn’t expect Keqing to already be there, arms folded and turned away from the situation. Ningguang can barely glance at the woman. 

“They stormed my home and took my jewelry and belongings. They took the pendant my daughter gave me; it had her face in it. Archons give me strength, my baby! I can’t afford it; I have nothing!” she quakes. You rub her back and Ningguang nods, listening—you can’t help but notice the anxiety blooming on her abstracted face. They take her through the process and once she leaves, Ningguang and Keqing look at each other with a silent understanding. The room is eerily quiet, and Ningguang paces back and forth in front of the intel wall contemplating an uncertain danger. You fumble with your thumbs. 

“What are we going to do about this?” you wonder. Keqing clears her throat loudly, attracting the attention of Ningguang. She looks at you, and sighs deeply. “We already know about this issue.” 

Your ears perk up. “Great, so how can I help?” 

“By doing nothing, (Y/N)” Keqing says. 

“...What?” 

“I have eyes everywhere; I’ve known for a long time. The Fatui are not people to be taken lightly, especially the harbingers. A few of their skirmishers were caught trading exotic goods and taxing medicine at high prices, on top of extorting the impoverished regions.” Ningguang points to one of the many Fatui exclusive headquarters on the wall. “Pantalone is the richest man in Teyvat, he has more political influence than anyone can imagine, and they answer to him. We can’t risk getting involved with this. They’ve brought this upon themselves, and unfortunately, they must deal with the consequences.” 

You can’t accept this response. How can they just desert them? It doesn’t comprehend in your naïvity—you scold yourself for not spotting the signs sooner, furrowing your brows and looking at them with distaste. “I expected this. You shouldn’t have said anything” Keqing chides. “...Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped before-” 

“You’re the last person I wanted to know about this” Ningguang interrupts. Your anger feels misplaced, and you bite your lip in restraint. She sits next to you and offers fleeting comfort with a graceful hand on yours. “You’re quite the reactionary type. In due time, this will be sorted. But right now, I need you to calm down, and trust me.” It sounds desperate, you know you shouldn’t go looking for answers, but a snagging thread pulls at the back of your consciousness, all too convincing. You bounce your leg. “You should want revenge just as much as me. Where we came from, where they end up, it isn’t fair.”  

“You know I do, more than anything. But we must handle this with care, before too many people get hurt. I’m doing this for the betterment of Liyue as a whole. It’s not easy to make these decisions.” 

“We can’t just go around serving justice, there’s laws we have to act with” Keqing adds. You don’t reply and stand up abruptly to leave. The worried Tianquan grabs your wrist one last time. “Promise me you won’t make a mistake, (Y/N). I’m trying to protect you” she pleads. 

“I promise. Thank you.” You flash a half genuine smile, already planning to rebel against her wishes. 

Who exactly is ‘he’—Pantalone. You don’t even know where to start looking. Too many headquarters, infinite possibilities. The best way you have to find him is through Fatui agents.  

You start taking up odd jobs late in the evening, scouring for the possibility that a fatui agent might fall into your hands. Though you considered playing the part of an impoverished villager taking out a loan at Northland Bank, it didn’t guarantee that you’d meet Pantalone in the flesh—it’s more likely that would raise unnecessary suspicion in the process. It’s awkward at first, seeing the hero of Liyue fish on the dock for petty change throughout the night. As you do, the malicious fire in your eyes burns bright at the occasional voice in chill silence. Your vision glows as you toss the hunting knife between your nimble digits. Listening closely to conversations, hoping that one might be unguarded enough to slip up, but nothing of the sort appears—not even the boldness of Fatui skirmishers enables them to divulge secrets under the baleful existence of Celestia.  

The moon illuminates sweetly on the tranquil waters lulling you to drowse. You hadn’t heard much since the start of your escapade. A fishing pole is weak in your resistless hold, and you’ve evidently given up on the idea of portraying the hardworking fisherman tonight. You vowed to help the people of Liyue, but justice was seemingly unfeasible. Maybe a direct approach? Should I ambush their headquarters? More so a suicide mission, you’d have no luck achieving that. Just as you’re about to leave, the crunch of withering grass straightens your posture. You make yourself hidden with a burst of energy and slouch behind the bushes as a Fatui pyro agent charges along the route. Through the glutted leaves obstructing your vision, you can just make out the heavy bag on his shoulder and jagged blade waiting restlessly on the other. His stride points towards Qingce Village. You hold your breath disguising yourself with the scenery and allow him to take a few feet between you before you begin following him. He’s rather shifty, those veiled eyes darting back and forth at the lightest noise. You’re careful to glide behind trees, moving with the heartbeat of the wind and taking advantage of the various melody's nature offers. You suck in a breath and duck behind a boulder a few inches too close, and his head snaps in your direction. The feeling of being watched besets him, but with no way to prove it and time running out, he secures his knife for the hypothetical ambush, and makes haste towards the target. Turning a tree, you watch as the pyro wielder knocks on the house of a small worn cottage. A short stocky man appears, shading half his body behind the door. 

“H-hello...” you hear faintly. The Fatui keeps his hand firm on the door, one boot propped under the hinge. He presents the flaming knife loosely as he towers over the man. “We’ve given you time.” You were sure now that he's working for Pantalone.  

“I don’t have it. P-please, if you could just give me some more-” He slams his fist against the wood, a resounding thump shakes the home. The man cowers. “Give me everything you have. The Regrator won’t wait any long-” 

A small rock flies past his mask, skidding on the ground until it comes to a stop. He glares in the direction of the tree you’re hiding behind. You have no plan, nothing but the distracting impulse to stop the assailant from attacking. “Stay here” he commands, and stalks towards you. His slow footsteps get increasingly louder, playful stomps toying with your obvious whereabouts. He twirls the razor-sharp knife, and as he sharply peeks around the corner, you’re nowhere to be found. “Here, kitty kitty” he taunts, spinning towards the lake, then the village grounds for footprints. He severs the air aimlessly in mirth, believing some amateur fighter came to challenge him. As he monitors the tracks under you, you drop down from the wiry branches. Legs wrap tight around his neck, and you catch hold of his hood trying to pull his mask off. He gags but he’s too quick, throwing off your steadiness as he slams your spine on the grass. He whips around to take a stab at your chest, but you roll away guarding the vital arteries. You kick him in the crotch, and he recoils giving you ample time to stand.  

You can’t feel the wet laceration dripping down your abdomen as you take a slash at his throat with your weapon, infused with elemental energy. He leans back and meets your strike. You trade blows, the strength of your smite bursting sparks of light above the scratches and bruises. Your wrist burns with the unmoving knives stumbling you. He begins to manifest blazing knives circling his figure, and you jump back from the singing cut melting the cloth. You wipe the dried blood from your mouth, and in the blink of an eye, he disappears. Suddenly, red auras similar to the pyro agent surround you. One by one, the clones charge at you, and you parry their overhead onslaught. Something is different about the last clone, your vision revealing a brighter outline than the others. When the next clone attacks, as you counter you pretend to fall for his trick. With your eyes on the other, he immediately passes through the black fog to deal the killing blow. You’re quicker this time and heave a heavy tear into his chest. Crimson splatters the grass, it shatters his element and rips open the robe. You tackle him on the dirt and wrestle until you kick his weapon away. Your knee digs into his back, and he can barely breathe with his arm locked behind him and knife rigid against his neck. He ttempts to swing at you, but you wrench his arm tighter and slice into his skin just enough to draw blood. 

“Fuck. Okay!” he wheezes. “Where is Pantalone?”  

“I don’t know what you’re- shit!” You’ve lost patience long ago and twist his arm to dislocate the shoulder. He lets out a blood curdling scream thrashing in pain—you tug hard and focus him. “Shut up and answer my question. Where is Pantalone?” you demand. He hisses in pain and coughs up phlegm mixing with reddening soil. “Kill me.” 

“Just tell me and I’ll let you go.” 

“I’m a dead man, either way.” he rasps and hangs his head waiting for the execution. You grit your teeth; a drop of guilt leaves a bad taste as you thwack the pressure point on his neck that forces him unconscious. You glance at the bag he left and limp over to rummage through the contents. Useless papers crumple under stolen items, but one note catches your eye. Presumably a to-do list, you read to the bottom. A list of homes, goods on standby exchanges—at the bottom of those, a rendezvous point: 

Report back- Yilong Bank, Liyue 

You rest in a plot of prickly bushes and leave in the morning after patching yourself up. You couldn’t stop now, not when you were this close to facing him. You soothe your body from the twigs prodding you all night, and check the wound suppressed by gauze. It’s a light scar now, apparent after bathing in the warm water on the outskirts of Qingce. You contemplated telling Ningguang about what occurred, but imagining the look on her face once she knew kept you moving. 

Tucking your vision where it can’t be viewed, you take a waverider to Yilong Port into the afternoon. You concoct a half-baked scheme, one that relies on every scenario being perfect to a tee. Unreliable, but probably your only chance. The plan amounts to scaling the building and breaking in through the office window, snatching everything owned by the villagers and breaking out before anyone notices. Easy in your capabilities, but you have no idea what the building looks like, nor do you know where the office is. The man driving wears all black, an outfit that stands out from the rest of the region. He stares at you blankly, and once you’re aware, you meet eyes. His smile is uncanny, stretching across his face with an abnormal friendliness. 

“Is this your first time at the port?” he asks, finger tapping the wheel. Be it sleep deprivation or ignorance; you don’t recognize red flags in his behavior.  You smile at the courteous face. “Yeah, the weather’s beautiful out here.” 

“Mhm, hot weather up here. On vacation?” 

“Nah, I have business here.” The minuscule edge of your vision catches in the light. He homes in on the passing twinkle. You wonder why his eyes widen momentarily, and his finger starts to tap methodically, as if memorizing a coded pattern. 

“Business...what kind?” 

“Oh...I have some items to trade.” You close off your answers feeling that you’ve said too much. He subsides with a stale expression. “If you’re looking to trade, you might find luck at Yilong Bank” he utters monotonously.  

“And where is that?” You feign disinterest, but victory is too loud on your tongue. 

“Up the mountain.” The waverider halts at the harbor, and he turns his head away from you unusually cold, akin to a mechanical bot shutting down. “Welcome to Yilong Port.” 

You make yourself invisible in the crowd and wait for nightfall. People still roam the port along with Fatui monitoring the front of the bank, which gives you leeway to blend in as you find passage around the back of the mountain. It’s a steep, dark incline jutted with irregular jagged stones. The imposing size of the climb tangles knots in your stomach, and you wipe the persistent sweat on your top. In one huge leap, you latch onto a craggy indent, and begin your ascension. 

Your legs feel like jelly with each contact of the unforgiving breeze. You sway alongside the spirit of anemo and swallow your anxiety before leaping to the next rock. Shoes plant into rock and nails excavate fresh cobble on the next jump. By the time you’ve realized, you’re already up most of the mountain. You tug yourself even with the land as a barreling gust of wind goads your glance to the ground, kilometers beneath you. Your breath stills, and for a second dizziness overtakes your nerves at the thought of slipping. I could die, one mistake and I’m dead. You focus, and spring to the next piece. Without warning, rock gives way into pebbles at the weight of your foot. You nearly plunge, but anchor onto the small bump out with one hand. You’re dangling off the edge, playing with death while you fortify your body. Hyperventilation makes your heartbeat thrum incessantly and stress palpitates tired muscles; If you didn't have your vision, you would’ve fainted to your demise. You bite the bullet, push your heels in and persevere through the hurdles. The next thing you clutch is malleable in your palm. You vault over the cliff, the smell of dew is overwhelming. The back of the bank—the end goal—is visible.  

One Fatui member remains in the front. You scale up the building effortlessly, nothing compared to the hell you just went through. Shifting window to window, your eyes land on the pitch-black darkness of the room at the top of the building. An ideal glow casts on the fraction of precious gold resting on a coffee table. This has to be it. You slink through the window soundlessly, and land on the balls of your feet. Analyzing the dish, you don’t discern the pendant. You can faintly identify some bookshelves near the dish, and tiptoe further inside. You creep around luxury sofas, and squint at the embellished glass case next to the door, containing all manner of jewelry and valuable possessions. You won; this was it. You scurry to it, moving with abrupt carelessness. One more step. 

Click 

The fireplace you didn’t heed is set aflame. It flickers sneering shadows on the opposite wall and brightens the case. You pause and hope. There’s a confining silence stirring in the room, like someone is with you. The case is visible now, and so is the key to opening it. 

You fell into a trap. 

“Looks like I have a little thief on my hands.”  

A bittersweet voice in the sable, reminiscent of rich dark chocolate, rolls off the room. He steps out obscurity behind his desk and your eyes adjust, revealing the tight black turtleneck compressing his willowy torso and gloves adorned with silver rings. You can’t see the upper part of his face, but the chains of his glasses hang in front of that duping smile. You expected the Fatui harbinger to be on the stronger side, physically intimidating. It’s not physical, but you feel a certain fear boiling in your body. He’s not terrifying, but you tremble. His presence makes your hair stand and sends waves of goosebumps up your arms. You can’t find the will to move your wobbly legs. His charmed laugh rings in your ears and causes you to hold your breath. He has no vision; you shouldn’t be afraid. You could take him on easily, why can’t you fight? 

“Hello, honored hero of Liyue” the headless man taunts. It makes it worse that he knows who you are. How long had he known you were coming? Was your plan doomed from the beginning? Your feet are stuck in molasses as your fight or flight shuts down at the man before you.  

“Now, tell me. What is the little thief doing, barging into my office to take the possessions I worked so hard for? Not very heroic of you, If I may say.” There’s power in his stature—you forget how to speak. He holds his palm out to you. Tangled between his fingers, is the ornate golden pendant you’d been searching for, a woman’s face in the frame. Your eyes widen, and the sweet familiar curve of his lips stretches in amusement. 

“Is this what you’re looking for?” The plod of low-heeled boots accompanies unveiled darkness, and you can observe his entirety. Amethyst eyes drunk with an orchid hue pool into your being. Lazy curls brush against his glasses and kiss his porcelain skin. He’s beautiful, a calm enticing rip current that sweeps you with immeasurable pressure before you can pull yourself out. He leans on the desk, observing the chain halfheartedly. If you weren’t careful, you’d mistake the look on his face for genuine kindness; you’d drown, just like he craved. Nonetheless, you can’t shake the emotion his smile grants. 

“Yes. That’s all I need, and I won’t bother you again” you whisper meekly, hoping that he’d let you go with the pendant in a spur of forgiveness. The jest in his eyes says something different. 

“Come get it.”  

Come get it. Your mind begins to piece the man into a stage of your life you’d forgotten. It can’t be him. Memory tells intrusive truth in short flashes. Inky curls spiraling in front of you as you chase. He was consistently miles ahead of you. It was irrelevant how far apart you were; he’d always find you. That big, curving smile for every match he won. Purple eyes glancing back at yours; the same ones that withheld tears when you said goodbye. 

“Come get me!” 

Tears stream down your eyes for the friend you thought you’d never see again. Childhood laughter bleeds into his current cat-like conniving snicker, and you gaze at his face. 

“I... remember you” you choke. He looks up without a smile, perceiving an unexpected thought, and meets your eyes. There’s a hint of affection in the warm smile beaming on his face. “My my, (Y/N). You have quite the memory.” 

You’re motionless, full of something that catches in your lungs. This isn’t the triumph you wanted, and now that you’re face to face you feel powerless. He must’ve known the entire time. Watching you fight and work alone, sending Fatui to roam in Liyue, all done to toy with you. Your lip quivers, swelling in your already deafening heartbeat.  

“How long...” you utter. He inquires with the tilt of his head. 

“How long have you been messing with me?” Your eyes adhere to the floor, pride that won’t permit you to shed misery for Pantalone. He drinks in your resistant frame, the kind he desires to break; perhaps this game of cat and mouse isn’t done, after all. 

“This hurts me too, (Y/N). I wouldn’t be doing this if you weren’t so…persistent.” Your confusion spills over in shaky, weak huffs. You can’t maintain your composure, and make yourself first to oppose the authoritative man on his own territory. 

“How could you do this to anyone? We grew up poor!” You shout with balling fists. 

“It’s inefficient to dwell on the past” he replies with gentle cadence and languid grace unrepresentative of his cruel tactics. You nearly regret raising your voice. 

“These people are at their wits end and you’re taking advantage of them” you chide. He slowly paces towards you. Pantalone looks down on you from height disparity, but the royal glower pities you, judges worth you can’t see. 

“Driven by emotions, are you that simple? You presumed that if you stormed in here, and professed a touching story, that I would suddenly see the error in my methods?” You’re not sure what you’re here for anymore or why you haven’t left yet. Subconscious urges can't determine if they should slap or hug the man inching towards you. “I simply enforce contracts and exchanges. No one can be swindled by a debt accreted on their own.” 

“No one asks to be poor either” you interject. Pantalone’s a foot away from you now, analyzing your reactions to his personal entertainment. He recalls the blurry past—the pranks you pulled together that ultimately failed from your loud hurried sneakiness tripping to alert the farmers, helping out for loose change so that you’d split a snack between each other that wasn’t big enough to share, gazing at the twinkling night imagining a distant future—you changed and stayed the same, but he keeps wanting more.  

“Weigh the odds. They either die impoverished or live by passage of loans. I merely provide a service. Does that make me so cruel?” You can’t find an answer. 

“You’ll always be my friend, but I need it back. It can’t be much to forgive someone’s debt” you plead.  

“You still consider me a friend?” 

“I think…you’re hurt. And you’re trying to heal. We all are. I know I’ve dealt with a lot as I’ve gotten older and I think you have, too. Power corrupts even the best people in this world, so maybe you’re not a bad person. But you’re doing bad things, and this isn’t the right way to get better.” 

Pantalone is quiet for a few long moments. His hands web his face, but you can clearly see the pearly fangs in his open-mouthed smirk. Then he laughs—dulcet and mocking, it lingers for too long as he throws his head back and relishes the obtuse notion. He gazes with insulting compassion and stalks towards you. 

“Incredibly…. gullible. Mora is the pathway to all endeavors. Devoid of gnosis or divine knowledge, wealth has rendered me impervious to control. Suffering and destitution only manifest if I will it. I am the guise of a false god, an emblem of achievement.” It’s borderline delusional the way he regards himself, arms moving in theatric grandeur, the star of his own opera. 

“Does that make you feel good? Stepping on the backs of the community that raised you, and abandoning them because they chose not to be influenced by greed?” Pantalone towers over you. His fingers brush light against your sensitive ears, trail to your clenched jaw, and finally cup your frustrated cheeks with the cradle of a long-lost lover. 

“It does, in fact. I’m not easily swayed by ridiculous optimism, that’s why I’m at the top. You’ve devoted your blood and tears to a region that will succumb to adversity in your absence. Is that not a pointless feat?” 

“So what? That doesn’t mean we just don’t help people. You have nothing without the Fatui, you’re a pawn just like the others” you retort. He brings his lips close to the shell of your ear, and his breath hot on the untouched skin drags a tingle up your spine. 

“And what do you know about the Fatui?” he whispers. 

“I know enough. You’re all disgusting.” He huffs out his nose. 

“Disgusting isn’t the right word. I’d say...opportunists.” Pantalone backs up, sliding his hand up your chin and tilting your attention to the intense glint. “But you’re clever, I’ll give you that. If only you were clever enough to know your place.” You'd forgotten you were acting out of line. You refocus your mindset to negotiation. 

“I’ll do anything you ask for the debt. Please, just give it back.” The word “anything” evokes a malicious yearning—so forthcoming without understanding the implications of “anything”, of eternity. He caresses your cheek. 

“Anything, hm? Even if I said to give up being a hero for good? Would you still call yourself a heroic traveler if you weren’t allowed to travel or adventure as you please?” he teases. Your mouth opens to refute, but you bite your bottom lip instead. Pantalone walks back to his desk and leans while dangling the golden chain. Now that he’s far, the invading space between you two shows how insignificant you are in this luxury palace. 

“Your resolve moves me. Consider this; make an exchange with me, and I’ll guarantee not only her debt, but the debt of all residents in Liyue forgiven” Your face instantly lights up, ready to accept it without thinking. 

“What is it?” you ask. 

“In exchange for regional loan forgiveness, I want you.” 

“...What?” 

“I want everything you have. It’s the fairest exchange I can make. Your obedience, your loyalty, and your body.”  

The choice turns in your frontal lobe. You can’t fathom giving yourself to a man, let alone a Fatui harbinger. It’s unbecoming of a hero to lie with the enemy. 

“Absolutely not” you assure. 

“Alright. Then allow their village to be reduced to nothing.” No, wait. “You may leave. However, if you do, you’ll cause great misfortune to that woman and her struggling family” You play into his covet so smoothly as you stand in the center of the room, reluctant to leave.  

“I’m not a complete monster, so I’ll give you 5 seconds to make a choice.” He sways the pendant in his hand like the transient time of an hourglass. 5 seconds, all you have to sign your life away. 

“4.”  

What if no one ever sees you again? What’s the point of sacrificing your happiness and freedom, are the people of Liyue truly worth it? 

“3.” 

You could threaten him, take him hostage so that a harbinger might bow to your demands. That, or they kill you, and the village suffers anyway. 

“2.” 

You think of your graying mom, the sweet boy with his chubby red face who cries over the smallest things, the grateful elders that give you candy after every good deed, Ningguang and Keqing stressing over the next financial impact. 

“1.” 

“I’ll do it.”  

Pantalone swings the chain into his palm, an undefeated smug overbearing as he sets it on the desk. There was never a point in resisting; he always got what he wanted, no matter how long it took to achieve it. He waited months—no, years—to get you in this exact moment. There’s a daunting beguiling charm in the way he closes the gap between you two. You glare at him; a temper common people would dread shooting. He assesses the pending punishment and lowers himself eye-level. He grins, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“I can see the defiance in your eyes. Do you want to talk back? Go ahead, challenge me.” You don’t test this scenario and turn your head. “Don’t patronize me. Get it over with, ‘Pantalone’.” 

He quirks an eyebrow, and pliable flesh strains your teeth as your face is gripped rough by satiny leather. You’re twisted sharply to the calm expression—it humbles you. 

“That’s not how you address your superior. What should you call me?” You don’t answer promptly to his liking, and he tightens his grip. “Answer me properly, darling.” 

“...Sir.” Pantalone plants a sickly sugary kiss on your forehead, the kind that makes you forget how petrifying he can be, and lets you go.  

“Good.” He walks back to the desk and sits in the onyx chair embellished with silver jewels fit for a king. His chin rests on bridging hands. “Strip.” 

You don’t move, your heart hammers in your chest at the request and you stir uncomfortably. You have no experience with sexual gratification, let alone exposing yourself to an old friend.  

“(Y/N). Don’t make me say it again.” Keen agitation in his voice serves as a final warning. He eats you with his eyes, homed in on your hands clumsily snaking the top over your head. A glimpse of the scar you received during your fight with the Fatui captures him. He takes a mental entry, for an explanation that might justify why the agent suddenly goes missing. You were generally too busy to look in the mirror or analyze your assets, and pleasure was a removed afterthought—so the hungry fervor warming your skin and permeating the room clamped your thighs shut. You’re visibly flustered and nervous fumbling with the clasps on your bra while stabilizing your anxiety, and he delights in every second of the accidental strip tease. It feels like fresh meat introduced to a savage animal, and the instant your bra omes off, a new vulnerability coils in your gut. You move to your bottoms; the sheen of sweat polishes your plush thighs to wiggle out of them. You’re left in nothing but tantalizing panties hugging you in the right places. His eyes undress and redress you, tracing up and down the perk of your nipples, tempting fullness of your thighs, each unseen curve and perfect imperfect mark on your glistening body. He lets out a deep breath to stop himself from jumping over the table and taking you right there. 

“The underwear. Take it off” he says, an undertone of lust. You shimmy the fabric off and fully expose yourself. You impulsively cover your intimate parts and avert your eyes, but you can still feel Pantalone on you, ravaging you. He doesn’t bother telling you to put your arms at your sides, your bashfulness combined with an attempt at stoicism is comical. 

“Ah, the little thief is trying to act tough. That's cute” Pantalone teases and leans back in the chair. Manspreading, he pats his thigh. “Crawl.”  

He’s hellbent on shaming the defiance out of you. It’s a vile command, but you begrudgingly drop to your hands and knees. You drag your chaffed knees on wood, balancing like a newborn fawn adjusting to its legs. It’s humiliating and downright degrading; the cold floor fails at cooling your burning fever. You’re on the verge of tears, but Pantalone can’t help but smile. You get around the desk and look up at him, waiting for the next horrible thing he’ll have you do. “Unfortunately, the stunt you pulled impeded my paperwork. Be a good thing and sit on my lap until I’m done.” A “thing”—that’s all you were now, a shiny trophy meant to be ogled at but never taken seriously, used and thrown away. You stand off your scraped raw knees and straddle his thigh, hands balancing the leg so you don’t fall. 

And Pantalone starts to work. Working as if you’re not there, filling in the spaces on his documents. For some reason, it’s more demeaning this way, you truly are just a prize. One hand dances beautiful penmanship in masterful motions on embossed paper, the other fondles and explores your being. The gloves brush down your delicate spine, nonsensical shapes drawn on your lower back that make you shiver and pool heat in places you’ve never thought of. You’ve never been touched like this, it’s needles light on your skin. They move to your stomach, pleasant circles above the pelvis that threaten to go lower. He’s careful to trail his hand up your cleavage and behind your neck, neglect your hardening nipples and repeat the process over and over. He’s painstakingly slow, savoring the dazed arch of your back, massaging your inner thighs and dragging the sleek material over your rear.

Middle and index sweep across your lips, pulling your bottom lip to reveal teeth, and prods your mouth. Pantalone’s fingers are invasive, they exploit your gums and twirl around the squishy tongue molding to his appetite. He plays with the pink mass, and it fills you like a kiss. He’s everywhere and he hasn’t looked at you once. You hate it, the kind elegance and refinement of his technique that makes every calculated word and action reek of opulence. Yet, arousal pools on the surface, sticking to your labia and clouding your drowsy mind. It’s an extreme ache that doesn’t go away from cold showers or shrugging off like you usually would. You can’t remember what you did today, yesterday, or the day before that. The sensation of him consumes you and persists in spots he left. He smells of expensive cologne, hints of heady wood and sage. You’re lucky his fingers are in your mouth, or piteous moans would spill out of you. Flat on his thigh, the subtle jolts of his leg rub against your hypersensitive clit and set your nerves on fire. Throbbing swells in your core, and you struggle to stay stiff as your hips stutter.  

Pantalone knows exactly what he’s doing. Your labored pants sound like saintly melody while you writhe on his lap. The fabric goads your pulsing pussy, and you hang your head in embarrassment of the juices soaking your thighs and his. He’s surprised you have strength left to withstand the itch. You do your best to hover above it, trailing thick strings of slick. “There’s no need to pretend you don’t like this. Just give yourself to me” he whispers. And it’s so enticing, an invitation that might let you come if you ask. However, remnants of pride cling to your melting resolve, you can’t give in yet. He takes the fingers out and presses on your nipple, flicking the bud. You can’t hold the mewl, and he snickers.  

“So indignant for the hero of Liyue, to be on a harbingers lap, reduced to a pretty pet.” Your ears tune out the insults. The damp gloves pull and pinch your puffy nipples, then knead to soothe the pain. He does the same to the other, switching between both as he feels you squirm.  

He works on the last few pages. Piles upon piles of reports and records—they detail the deaths, or “suicides”, of clients who’d disappeared mysteriously after extended absence of payments for millions of mora, people who dared go against the Regrator. Unruly, uncooperative clients that take advantage of fair exchange, and pay the price for it. 

Your arms get tired, and you settle on him again. Pantalone starts to softly bounce his leg, enough for you to notice the friction on your clit. It’s too much, you can’t take it anymore, and start to rut your hips on his thigh. You look messy, smearing your essence on those overpriced slacks and biting back your moans. Pleasure flows in your veins, and you give up. His cock throbs nonstop, print stealing space in his pants. “Did you believe I wouldn’t catch you? You’re not sneaky enough. You’re not good enough," he taunts from the corner of his eye. You hump his leg like a desperate bunny, chasing the addictive high.  

“Nasty slut, fucking your hips on a man you barely remember.” He moves his hands to your clit and replaces the slacks with slippery leather. You grind on it harder and hold your moans. More, more, more. He coats it in the mess and finally diverts his attention to you. He teases your entrance gliding vertically on your vulva before pushing one finger in. It hurts at first, but your walls hug him eagerly, pulling it deeper. He coaxes it to take another and starts scissoring your gushy walls.  

“I’ll devour you. I’ll inscribe my name upon every surface of your physique until it adorns your lips, and I’m the only thing that remains.” Pantalone starts pumping rhythmically, tormenting, poking everywhere but your g-spot. Gloss drips down his knuckles and glazes his rings. 

“S-sir please, s’too much” you whimper, mustering up an ineffective stable voice. “Hmm? Can you hear the lewd sounds you’re making?” Loud squelches sing from him fucking your insides. Each time you try to speak, he elicits another moan. 

“M-my sto-mach hurtss” you whine. He holds your waist in place with the other hand and continues the assault. “I know, it hurts? Would you like me to alleviate the pain?” he coos. You nod fast. 

“Hold it in. You ask for permission every time you’re close, do you understand?” You don’t reply and try to angle your body to get more contact. You make the mistake of guiding yourself to your clit and earn a harsh stinging slap on your hand. “Don’t touch what’s mine” he orders. You’re frustrated and he’s doing it on purpose, it’s entirely too hot where pleasure and pain blur. “N-not yours” you stammer, and he stops. He pulls out your warmth and you whine from loss of pressure. Looking at him, there's no smile, and the irritation on his face makes your heart drop. You're really in for it. 

Without delay, your stomach flies over one of the chair arms, and you hold onto it for dear life. It presses firm on your ribs, and he slants your ass to the air. “You have courage, speaking back to me” he says. He pulls his gloves off and hurls them. They’re lovely, the silken soft hands of a man who hadn't lifted a finger through combat a day in his life. They sink into your sex, and you moan out for him. The other winds back, and you feel the palm hit brutally on your unsuspecting backside. Crack. It echoes in the room, and you almost fly forward. 

“Disrespectful.” Crack. He keeps pumping through it, and tears collect in your lashes. 

“Disobedient.” Crack. There’s blood rushing to your head, and violent smacks make your pussy flutter and ass ripple; his control won’t give you adequate touch.  

“Little.” Crack. Every time he feels you getting there, he pauses. A masochistic pleasure whirls innermost. 

“Brat.” Crack. Both cheeks are a sore fiery color and beginning to welt, but he resumes. You’re drenching his palm, sobbing from prolonged edging and Pantalone laughs. “Pfft, you’re crying? Too embarrassed to beg? Perhaps I’ll give you what you want, if you grovel hard enough, darling.” An incoherent orchestra of please’s mesh with broken moans. “Sir m’sorry. Wan’ it so bad, p-please!” you mumble. There’s no dignity on your lips, no residue of the hero you once were. Drunken ardor floods your short-circuiting brain. 

“Oh, what do you say? You want it? Is that it? I'll let you have it... but only if you say it loud and clear for me” he croons. He winds his fingers in a come-hither gesture that licks your core. 

“Please...I won’t misbehave again!” He spreads your ass apart and watches your hole pucker from lining the brink. 

“I’m not sure I want to give it to you now. It's a lot more enjoyable watching you squirm and beg.” 

“’M yours, sir. Please give it to me. I’ll be s’good, promise!” you mewl. You’re so pathetic, it’s endearing. He simpers and maneuvers impossibly fast while gyrating your clit. “How humiliating. You’ve satisfied me.” Your eyes roll back, and you dissolve in pure euphoria. There’s black dots in your vision, and it doesn’t stop as he starts torturing your overstimulated clit with the pad of his thumb. Your tears only encourage him. You jerk and spasm, but he moves where you move with insistent skill. “T-too m-” 

“Aww, what’s wrong? Isn’t this what you wanted, where are your manners?” Pantalone pulls out and delivers staggering mean swats to your pussy, and you recoil. “Say thank you” he demands. 

“Thank you, sir.” He hums and picks you up in his arms. Before color can return to your numb cells, he lays you on the desk. You watch him pull his shirt up to his pecs with haste and uncover the lean skinny midsection. Unzipping his pants, he unsheathes his leaking thumping erection. Even his dick is pretty, it curves upwards and shades a starving dusty pink past the thin strip of tissue on the underside of his bulbous tip. Composure thinning, a bead of pre come runs down his tip at the sight of provocation sluicing your ass and thighs. His glasses plunge down his neck, body blushed wildly, but he doesn’t care. Pantalone slides between your labia and groans at the sound. Engulfing the tip in awaiting velvet warmth, “You’re so good for me, hm?” he sighs. You embrace him, delicious searing stretch of your walls forming to his cock. Your orgasm builds just from your body accommodating the size. He places your hands on your calves and holds them at your sides. He slips out, and in one swoop, drives into you. His heavy balls smack against your ass as he thrusts frenetically in the gooey grip he’d been waiting for, stalking and spying for. He digs crescent shapes in your waist and uses you to his abundance. The desk base creaks and grinds on abrading wood and obituaries float to the floor with overturned calligraphy ink from the unrelenting momentum. You throw your head back and indulge the carnal lust washing over you both. 

“You’ll never see anyone ever again. Fuck- you’re mine, and mine alone. You’re nothing but a come dump, your purpose is to please me, hah, until I say it’s over” his voice is unexpectedly deprived and weighty with vulgar whimpers. Pantalone eyes your neck and encapsulates it in his slender hand. He clenches tight and releases in sporadic bursts that have you seizing around him. For a split second there’s the image of you—exorbitant pearled collar wrapped around your throat, with “Pantalone” inscribed in bedazzled letters—and he loses it. He swipes your clit rapidly and feeds you deep strokes; you’ll definitely die. You speak, but it’s unintelligible rambling. 

“Use your words” he lilts, squeezing your airflow taut. “C-can I, sir, please?” 

“You’ll do it on my command.” Pantalone thrusts frenetically, you can feel him bucking, twitching and quickly approaching his climax. His hips sputter, chanting some mixture of your name and curses under his breath. “You’re so obedient for me, aren’t you? F-fuck, darling, go ahead. Come on my cock.” You permit yourself to surrender, white noise streams in and time slows as you come down his shaft. A creamy ring forms at the hilt of his slaps. You recite “thank you” through wails with the semblance of a follower at the altar of their savior. Then he grabs your face and goes in for a kiss.  

It’s sloppy and misses half your lip, but its doughy attachment mellows your blissed out head. His lips taste like the bitter excess of green tea, and you crane for a better sample. His tongue does things his fingers couldn’t, and swirls around yours in a passionate bruising waltz. Pantalone breaks away, a string of saliva when he frees himself. “Mm, coming. Gonna claim you everywhere” he whimpers. Sweat on his lustered abdomen, he pumps his tender cock before spurting thick hot ropes across your tits and stomach. He paints your vulva with the rest and plunges the tip in your entry so as to not waste the endless globs of white. He tremors inside you until soft, and when some dribbles out he fingers it back inside.  

Afterwards, Pantalone opens one of the drawers on the desk and takes out an embossed loan dismissal form. You can’t read the finer details through hazy eyesight. “It’s already signed, so don’t worry. I won’t deceive you.” He caresses your face in his normal sing-song attitude. “We depart in the morning.” You don’t have a clue where you’re going or how you’ll get there as you drift unconscious. Once you’re asleep, Pantalone shuffles in a different locked drawer. He twiddles the stunning purple geode in his hand, a crystal lined mineral you gave to him years prior. He looks at you, then the druse, and cackles. 

“Mine. Always.” 

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin au #pantalone smut #pantalone #pantalone headcanons #headcanon #pantalone x reader #pantalone x you #pantalone x y/n #genshin impact pantalone

[beyondthesefourwalls]

The Over/Under

Summary: Your friends insisted that the best way to get over someone was by getting under someone else. But you had been over your ex for a long time before you ever signed the papers, and you had no intention on hooking up with anyone. Then an attractive man with a mustache that really shouldn't look as good as it does catches your eye, and you suddenly forgot why you were hesitant in the first place.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 6.2K

Warnings: Language, smut, talks of divorce

Notes: Written as a fun little surprise for my best gal @roosterforme for her birthday today, because what better gift is there than porn shared amongst friends, am I right?

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“What about him?” 

“No way. I can practically feel that guy’s ego from here.” 

“Him?” 

“He looks like he’s barely old enough to be here.” 

“Okay, what about him?” 

“Hmmmm. Oooh. He’s cute. Hey, I think we found your guy!” 

The words were followed by an excited jab to your side, and you hissed out an “ow” as you swatted the hand that had done so. Your best friend wasn’t phased in the slightest as she grinned at you, her eyes already a little glazed from the tequila shot you had taken upon getting to the bar - the very patriotic, very uniform filled bar, that was not your normal stomping grounds by any means.  

Not for the first time since arriving a little less than thirty minutes ago, you huffed out a breath of disbelief. “Isn’t tonight supposed to be about celebrating being single again? Why are you trying to scope out guys for me?” 

“Because what better way to get over someone than by getting under someone else?” 

You couldn’t help but snort into your drink as you took a long sip. Truthfully, you had been over your ex-husband for a long time now. The divorce was nothing more than a logistical means to an end, which the bastard had dragged out for far longer than it needed to be. You had felt single for damn near years at this point, but as of earlier this week, you were legally so, as well. Finally. 

“And what if I want to be on top?” you dared to ask, raising a challenging eyebrow. “What then?” 

Your friends all burst into laughter, talking over one another as they weighed the merits of your question, unsurprisingly veering off into debates about the best positions for maximum pleasure. You rolled your eyes fondly, but tuned them out as you let your eyes scan the crowd. It was apparently their mission tonight to get you laid, which you honestly should have caught on to as soon as they had thrown a brand new lingerie set at you earlier that night. It was strappy and lacy in all the right ways and you hadn’t hesitated to put it on under your tiny black dress because it had made you feel good. Sexy, even. You deserved to feel that way just for you, so you had thought nothing of it. Now, though, their insistence made sense. 

Pure curiosity had you looking in the direction of the man they had been trying to point out. He had that classic All-American look to him, all blonde hair and dimples, and you could see his shiny white teeth from across the bar as he laughed with his friends. He was cute, you supposed, and everything that your type used to be. But now he reminded you a little too much of your newly-made ex-husband, and you felt nothing as you looked at him. You let out an internal sigh as your eyes shifted to the left. 

You paused, your head cocking to the side as you took in the man sitting beside him. Now he…oh, now he was something. He was very something. He was handsome in a way that was different from your usual type. He had dark, tousled hair that curled on his head, and a mustache that you’d normally find hideous but that only served to enhance his very attractive look. His features were sharp, with a strong jawline and eyes that you couldn’t quite make out the color of from this far away. He was dressed casually in jeans and a ridiculous looking Hawaiian shirt over a plain tee. Just like the facial hair, it was a combo that you were sure would look ridiculous on anyone else - like the pretty boy sitting beside him - but that he was somehow pulling off. Something about him seemed to exude confidence without being cocky, and it was intriguing.  

You took another sip of your drink, feeling your heartbeat a little faster with strange anticipation. In principle, you had been single for a long time now. You weren’t planning anything tonight, but you also hadn’t felt that familiar tingle in your tummy since before you got married. 

Your thoughts were interrupted as your friend jabbed you in the side again. "Cute, right?” she asked eagerly. 

You shook your head, your gaze still fixed on the handsome stranger. "No, not him," you said, your voice low. "The one next to him.” 

Your friends followed your gaze. "Oh, damn," one of them breathed out, her eyes widening with interest. "He's hot." 

You didn’t pay attention to whatever your friends were talking about as you stared, swirling the remaining liquid around in your glass. He was broad, and even seated, you could tell he was tall. He was thick in all the best ways, and you wanted to know what he looked like up close. Almost like he could feel you watching him, he cut his eyes in your direction. They connected with yours, and instead of shying away, a flash of boldness had you raising your glass to your mouth to take a small sip. You swiped your tongue over the moisture left coating your bottom lip, eyes never leaving his. A slow grin spread on his face and a thick eyebrow raised before he turned back to his friends. You smiled to yourself. It was a rare moment of feeling powerful and in control, and you relished it.

He was looking back at you now, and you felt a flutter in your stomach at the intensity of his gaze. You shifted in your seat, feeling a sudden urge to be closer. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and you didn’t quite know what to do with it.  It had been so long since you had tried to pick up a guy, and you weren't sure you remembered how

A moment passed and he looked away again. Feeling emboldened, you downed the rest of your drink and pushed out of your seat. “I’m going to get another,” you announced before you could talk yourself out of it. It was a bad cover and you knew it, and by the way your friends cheered and started egging you on, they did too. 

You took a deep breath as you tried to quell the flutter in your stomach. You made it a point to not look at him as you approached the bar. You leaned against the counter, ordering a tequila shot and splurging for the top shelf when the kind, pretty bartender asked for your order. You weren't sure if the drink would help settle your nerves or make them worse, but you needed something to distract you from the intense gaze you swore was burning into your back. 

She slid the shot across to you with a grin, nodding when you asked her to put it on your tab before quickly moving on to other waiting customers. That tingling sensation of being watched came back stronger, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when a warm presence leant against the bar at your side, facing you. You turned your head, and oh, wow. He had a smile on his lips that made your knees weak, and from up close, you could see faint scars that had faded with time. He had eyes the color of dark honey that sucked you in, and even that ridiculous mustache looked soft. Your whole body tingled at the proximity. 

“Hi,” you said, and you were surprised at how breathy you sounded. His smile widened as he looked you up and down.

“Hi.” His voice was deep and husky and you fought the urge to groan at how delicious it sounded. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.

You grinned, feeling a little giddy. "I just ordered one," you said, holding up the full shot glass. You felt embarrassment heat your face when a little bit of the clear liquid sloshed onto your fingertips, but you forced yourself not to break eye contact. 

He chuckled, cheeks tinting red, and leant in a little closer. "Then let me join you for one.” 

You pretended to think it over, humming in fake consideration. When you finally nodded, that charming smile of his turned just a touch toward a smirk. He called the bartender by name when she passed, asking for a shot of whatever you were having. The woman, Penny, huffed out a laugh that sounded amused but not judgemental as she efficiently poured it and slid it over. When she walked away, he raised it to yours. 

“Cheers,” he murmured, voice low. You shivered in delight. 

“Cheers.” You downed your shot, and he followed suit. The liquor burned its way down your throat, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the way he was looking at you.

“What’s your name?” he asked. He sat himself down in the barstool you had been standing beside, and you couldn’t help but glance down at his legs, spread in a way that you would be standing between them if you shuffled just the slightest bit to the right. His denim clad thighs were thick and looked so inviting. When you met his eyes again, they sparkled like he knew what you had been thinking. 

“What’s yours?” you asked instead. You were trying to get some of that control back that you had felt on your walk over here. You inhaled a subtle deep breath, catching another whiff of his cologne. 

He chuckled lightly, ducking his eyes and looking at you through thick lashes that you envied. Your knees threatened to give out. “Bradley,” he introduced. He extended a hand. You took it, feeling the roughness of his palm and the strength of his grip. You couldn’t help but imagine those hands on your body, exploring every inch of you. You told him your name, and hummed in appreciation, repeating it. The syllables sounded like velvet coming from his mouth. “What brings you here tonight?” 

“Oh,” you breathed. You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you contemplated how to respond. You were proud of your decisions - of finally being free. But you weren’t sure how that would come across to a stranger you could definitely see yourself having a good time with. “Just…celebrating,” you settled on. 

“Celebrating huh? Is it your birthday?” 

“Maybe,” you shrugged, hoping it came across as playful and coy. By the laugh he let out, you thought you had succeeded. 

“Okay, a woman of mystery I see.” 

You smiled, lifting a shoulder again, not bothering to confirm or deny. 

“Alright, mystery woman. Can I buy you a drink this time?” 

You glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of all of your friends. They weren’t even trying to mask how they were staring at you, one of them even shooting you a thumbs up that made you roll your eyes. Bradley was still staring at you when you turned your gaze back to his, and you got lost in those dark honey eyes. It was sobering how quickly and intensely you were responding to him. You couldn’t remember the last time a man had that effect on you. That aspect of your marriage had been dried up long before the ink on the paper was. When the two of you finally separated almost a year ago, you had spent the time focusing on relearning who you were on your own, standing on your own two feet. You were cautious by nature, and it had been so long since you felt desire toward someone - even longer since you felt desired in return. 

But when you shifted, you felt the straps and the lace comfortable against your skin under your dress, and you realized that maybe giving yourself the opportunity to show it off that night wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Maybe your friends had been onto something after all. 

“I’d like that,” you finally said, and he was already smiling as he opened his mouth to respond, but you held up a finger to stop him. “But I have one condition.” 

“Name it,” he said immediately. He was already waving down Penny behind the bar, and his lack of hesitation was so sexy. 

“We move out of sight of my friends. I’d rather not feel them watching us the whole time.” 

The laugh Bradley let out this time was loud and free, and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped in return. His smile turned into a devilish grin and he leaned closer like he was going to share a secret. “Deal,” he said, “and also incredibly relatable. Don’t look now, but I’m pretty sure my friends are doing the exact same thing.” 

Now that he said it, it did feel like there were multiple sets of eyes on you coming from opposing directions, and you giggled even harder. Once your drinks arrived, he stood up from his stool and offered you his hand. You had been right about him being tall, and you had to tamper down the sudden urge you felt to climb him like a tree. Instead, you took his hand and murmured for him to lead the way. You followed him closely as he led you through the crowded bar, feeling his warmth radiating off his body. The spicy scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and you found yourself wanting to breathe him in even more. 

The cool night air was refreshing once you walked through the back doors and further down into the sand. Bradley kept a tight grip on your hand as you stumbled in your heels, but luckily it wasn't too far before he stopped next to a few sunken beach chairs. 

You could still hear the music and the chatter from inside the bar, but it was quieter. There were string lights along the railing and torches in the sand that provided the slightest bit of light to where you could still easily see around you. You were far enough away that you could have privacy, but close enough to where you could easily scream and catch someone’s attention. You doubted it would get to that, but it was good to know your self preservation instincts were still working amongst all the things this man was making you feel.

It was nice out here, you decided, and before he could ask if it was okay, you were letting go of his hand and sidestepping him to sink down onto one of the oversized chairs. You patted the spot next to you as you looked up at him, and Bradley didn’t make you wait before he was squeezing onto the seat beside you. He was so close that his thigh pressed a delightful line against yours. It was all you could do not to melt into him. 

You took a sip of your drink, the cold liquid providing some relief against the heat building in you. Bradley took a drink of his own, his eyes never leaving yours, and you couldn’t help yourself when you glanced down at his lips for a second; you wondered what it would be like to kiss them. 

“Tell me something about yourself,” Bradley said, breaking the silence. 

You thought for a moment, trying to think of something interesting to say. It was almost like you suddenly forgot every intriguing thing about yourself. You glanced down at the drink in your hand, swirling the liquid in the glass. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to fly,” you decided on.  

Bradley sat up a little bit straighter, and pressed just a little bit closer. “Oh yeah?” he asked, and he sounded genuinely interested, almost excited. “Planes?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, and then couldn’t help the snort you let out. “Well my preference would be Superman style, but something tells me that won’t happen. So a plane will do.” 

He smirked a little, taking another sip. He licked some of the liquid off of his mustache, and you wanted to know how the beer tasted off of it, too. “You’d look good in the spandex tights, though. No doubt about that.” 

The line should have been gross and offensive, but coming from him, it felt like a compliment, and you couldn’t help but laugh as those butterflies erupted in your stomach again. “What about you?” you asked, and you didn’t know if it was your increasing level of comfortability with this man or the earlier tequila shot hitting your bloodstream, but you knocked your shoulder into his as you spoke. “Tell me something about yourself, Bradley.” 

His smirk fell into a soft smile, and either mischief or the reflection of the moon was making his eyes sparkle. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.” 

“Try me.” 

He leaned so close that your breath caught, and for a moment you thought he was going to stop the conversation all together and kiss you. You were ready for it, even. But instead, he leant just a little bit to the side and whispered to you like he was sharing a secret, his lips brushing your ear. “I’m an aviator,” he told you, and his proximity made it so that it took a moment for the meaning to register to you. 

“Oh my God,” you gasped, eyes wide, and he was already chuckling as he pulled away. “You fly!” 

“I do,” he laughed, the sound deep and infectious, before tacking on in further explanation that he flew for the Navy. 

“Wow,” you breathed, after he finished regalling you with more details about his aircraft and how long he had been flying, and the different planes he had gotten in the cockpit of over the years. He talked about it with a passion that you knew he wasn’t bullshitting or trying to impress you - he genuinely loved what he did. You toyed with the words before you spoke them, taking a deep breath and laying your palm on his thigh. You tried to keep your voice light and playful, despite your body humming. “Maybe you can teach me some time.” 

“I’d be happy to,” he told you, “if you think you can handle it.” 

It was a challenge, a proposition clear as day, and you knew it was your out if you wanted him to back down. But that’s not what you wanted. Not even a little bit. You swallowed thickly at how his gaze intensified. It felt like he was looking right through you like no one else ever has, and you liked it. 

“I think you’ll find that I can handle a lot of things,” you murmured, and even you were surprised at how raspy your voice came out - sexy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. “I’m more than what I may seem.” 

“So I’m discovering.” There was a moment of silence between you, but it wasn't an awkward one. Rather, it was charged with anticipation and desire. You could feel the pull between you, and you tracked the bulge of his adams apple as he swallowed. He cleared his throat and shook his head, and it was refreshing knowing you were having an effect on him, too. He held his half full glass up to yours, clinking them together once you did the same. “Here’s to discovering more.” 

It got later and later as you sat out in the sand talking and getting to know this beautiful man sitting beside you. And the more you learned, the more you liked. He had a sense of humor that matched yours and a voice that sent shivers down your spine, and you hung onto every story with rapt attention that he returned whenever you spoke. Bradley was easy to talk to, and you found yourself getting lost in the conversation. The warmth of his body against yours was addicting, and you found yourself leaning into him even more. 

“Can I make a confession?” you asked, after a particularly enrapturing tale of racing his best friend in an F-18 and almost getting caught doing so. 

“I want to know all your secrets,” he said in return, and you almost moaned at how smooth the line was. Instead, you playfully rolled your eyes before you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to figure out how exactly to say it. He waited you out patiently, the hand from the arm he had draped across the back of the seat a little while ago tracing your shoulder so lightly you almost didn’t feel it. Your empty glasses were in the sand in front of you, but neither of you felt drunk on the limited alcohol you had consumed. 

“I told you I was out celebrating tonight,” you started, and Bradley made a noise of recognition that let you know he remembered. 

“Is it your birthday afterall?” he teased. You laughed softly at the way he put you so at ease. 

“No, not my birthday. My friends actually insisted on taking me out tonight to celebrate some news I got earlier this week.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Mmm,” you hummed, before taking a deep breath. “My divorce was finalized earlier this week.” 

If he was surprised or bothered by your words, it didn’t show. In fact, he didn’t flinch at all, just sat as relaxed as he had been all night while his fingertips continued to cause goosebumps to erupt all over your skin from their contact with your shoulder. 

“How do you feel about that?” he asked, and you couldn’t help but marvel at his nonchalance. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but you don’t think it was this. You sighed happily in response to his question, and was delighted when he laughed a little. “That good huh?”

“That great,” you corrected. You shrugged, and his hand steadied on your skin, a nice weight on your shoulder. A soft smile played on your lips. You knew you didn’t have to tell him - truly, it was probably better if you didn’t. But something made you want to be honest with him. You tried not to read too much into that. “It had been a long time since he made me feel the way a man should make his wife feel, you know? We were over way before I ever served him with the papers, which was almost a year ago now. So it was a long time coming.” 

“Enough time to get over him?” Bradley asked. Your breath caught because you swore there was something like hope in his voice. You desperately wished you were right. Regardless, you didn’t hesitate in nodding.

“I’ve been over him for ages,” you confirmed. “Just took awhile to make it official.” 

He made another noise of understanding, and leaned in closer. He lifted a hand and your heart raced wildly in your chest at the way he cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip in a way that made you gasp quietly. The way he was looking at you made it feel like you were the only two people in the world. 

“He was a fool for letting you go,” he said, so quietly you wondered if he meant to say it out loud. 

Bradley leaned in closer, his lips hovering near your ear. You felt the heat emanating from him, and your body responded with a shiver. "You deserve to be wanted," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. You turned your head to look at him, and for a moment, you were lost in his dark eyes. You felt a sudden urge to kiss him, to taste his lips that looked so soft and inviting. You leaned in, closing the gap between you. 

The kiss was electric, sending shivers down your spine. His lips were soft and full, and his tongue was warm and intoxicating as it slid into your mouth. You moaned quietly, feeling a rush of desire pulse through your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. He responded with a low growl, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You went willingly when he pulled you into his lap.

You broke the kiss for a moment, gasping for air as his tongue slid along your chin, down your neck, leaving a burning trail of heat. He bit at your collarbone playfully, smiling up at you. It was wicked and full of promise. 

He used his grip on your hips to pull you down onto him, groaning at the friction. His own hips arched up to meet yours, and your head fell back as you both let out a moan. His teeth grazed along the soft skin of your neck, and you couldn’t help but claw at his shoulders and the back of his neck as you felt the rush of heat already pooling between your legs. He was hard, you could tell, and you wanted him so badly. 

You had no idea what was happening or what was going to happen next, but it didn’t matter. All you wanted right now was to feel his body against yours. You heard his breath hitch as you let your hands roam his chest, hard and warm against your palms, the muscles firm and toned. You let your fingernails drag down his abs, eliciting a groan from him, and you grinned in satisfaction. You wanted to see more of that reaction, see more of him. 

You moved to scoot back, intending to unbutton his jeans, but he grabbed your wrist before you could. 

“Let me take you somewhere,” he murmured, and you let out a breathy laugh even as you nodded. 

“Bathroom inside? Your car?” You leaned in for another kiss, but Bradley pulled back. He cupped your face in his big hands. The pad of his thumb rubbed a smooth line on your cheek.  

“You deserve more than a quickie in a bar bathroom or a parking lot, Sweetheart. Can I take you home?”  

“Yeah,” you breathed. You were blown away at how he continued to make you feel, how he was treating you like you were worth something. You wanted him so much, and you thought it was more than just physical, even as you were aching. 

Your friends were still inside, clearly having had more to drink while they waited for you, and flirting with a few men in uniform of their own. You made quick work of letting them know you were leaving, and you didn't stick around for their catcalling as you followed Bradley into the parking lot, your hand held tight in his. You were trembling as you sank into his front seat, and you know it’s not just from the chill in the air. 

He kissed you again before he put the classic Bronco into gear, your address plugged into his GPS. His hand was heavy on your thigh during the drive, and part of you was glad he didn’t do more than let it rest there, a reminder of his presence. You weren’t sure you could handle any more without losing control.

He pulled into your driveway and killed the engine, and for a long moment, the two of you just sat there, breathing heavily as you looked at one another. Finally, after a long moment, he raised that gentle hand of his and tucked some of your hair behind your ear. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered, and his voice sounded reverent. 

“Bradley.” You let out a shaky breath, swallowing down all of your nerves. “Come inside.” 

It was a miracle that you managed to open the door without dropping your keys as Bradley kissed down the side of your neck, and you pulled him inside eagerly. You didn’t bother giving him a tour as you guided him up the stairs to your room. There would be time for that later. 

You bypassed the ceiling light to turn on one of the bedside table lamps instead, casting a soft glow throughout the spacious bedroom. Bradley was right there when you turned, the two of you moving at the same time. His hands stroked down your sides as you pressed yourself against him, his mouth hot and hungry against yours. You let out a moan as your tongue tangled with his again. You threaded your fingers through his hair, just as soft as it looked, and tugged. He hissed out a low, sexy sound of approval. 

You pushed the Hawaiian shirt off his shoulders and then tugged at the white shirt underneath it. He took the hint, detaching from you to pull it off over his head, baring his chest. You stepped back for a moment and let your eyes wander over him. He was incredible, toned and muscular, and the light dusting of hair on his chest made you bite your lip. You wanted to trace the lines of his muscles with your tongue, feel him against you. Your eyes moved down to see his erection straining against his jeans, and you licked your lips. You were so ready for him, and he was ready for you. You could tell. When your eyes trailed back up to meet his, the look he was giving you was hungry. 

Before you could overthink it, you were tugging at the side zipper holding your black dress together and lowering it. You pushed it off of your shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Bradley blinked once, his gaze inevitably dropping. His eyes widened noticeably as a deep groan tore from his throat. 

“Jesus Christ, baby.” The wonder in his voice was evident as he took in the lingerie that your friends had thrown at you earlier in the night, and you made a mental note to thank them tomorrow. 

He seemed to be struggling for breath as he swallowed and stepped forward, sliding his hands up your sides to cup your chest. His thumbs brushed across your nipples, and you moaned at the sensation, arching into him. He leaned in and kissed you again before he began to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, down to one breast. You dug your nails into his scalp, whimpering as you felt his teeth tug at your nipple through the lacy fabric. His tongue teased it, flicking over the sensitive skin. And then, with no warning at all, he was lifting you up and laying you down on the bed. You raised up on your elbows as he made quick work of taking off his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. He pushed them and his briefs down all in one go until they pooled at his feet. Your eyes widened at the site. His cock was hard and huge, and you grew wetter just looking at him. 

You held out your hand without a word. He crawled onto the mattress, looming over your body as he braced his hands on either side of you. He kissed you again, his mouth hot and hungry against yours. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He kissed you for a long time, so long you thought you were going to be drunk off of it. When he did pull away, it was only to trail his lips down your neck, making you writhe as his mustache brushed against your sensitive skin. His mouth moved to your collarbone again, then down to one breast, and then the other. You keened at the sensation. Then his lips were on your stomach, and he shimmied himself down the bed until he was between your thighs. Slowly, he tugged your panties down your legs. He spread you wide, his eyes never leaving your center. He leant forward and inhaled deeply, groaning at the scent - your scent. He pressed a featherlight kiss to the inside of your thigh where it was settled on his shoulder before looking up at you. 

“I’m going to devour you,” he stated. Before you had any time to react, his mouth was on you. 

He was ravenous, lapping at you as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. You felt it all the way through your body as he moaned against you, your body writhing against his mouth. You were so hot, so ready for this man to take you. You let out a loud moan as he licked your clit, then took it into his mouth and sucked. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he brought you to the edge as his mouth worked you over expertly. 

You don’t remember the last time a man had his mouth on you, let alone made you come from it. When you came, it was hard and loud, your hands buried in his hair, his name a mantra on your lips. He crawled back up the length of your body and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His thick cock twitched against your sensitive pussy, and the feeling of him settling between your legs was enough to have you pulling away from his kiss, breathing deeply. 

His eyes were dark with lust as he looked down at your body, and you felt your face heating up at his silent perusal. 

“I’m clean,” you whispered urgently, “if you want…” 

He answered you with a groan of your name, his forehead pressed to yours, his cock twitching. “I am too. You sure?”  You nodded, and without a word, you reached for him. You watched his face as you stroked him slowly. His eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned into your touch. He let out a throaty moan when you guided him to your entrance. 

“Please,” you whispered. His eyes opened as he slid into you, filling you up entirely. He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling. He was so thick and hard inside of you; you felt so impossibly full. 

“You feel incredible,” he told you, still not moving, but you could feel how much he wanted to.  

“Bradley,” you begged, and he withdrew slowly until just the head of his cock was still inside of you, pressing against your clit. He slid back in again, filling you up until you couldn’t think of anything but the feeling of him deep inside of you. You could feel it all the way to the top of your head, all the way down to your toes, and you moaned as he pulled out and thrust back in again. 

His pace was tortuously slow at first, in a way that could only be deliberate, driving you crazy. You could feel every inch of him leave and enter you, over and over again. The feeling of him moving inside of you was almost more than you could stand, but still, you wanted more. You were ready to beg him to go harder, faster, but you didn’t need to as he finally, finally started to pick up the pace. You wrapped your legs around his hips as he found a steady, powerful rhythm. You cried out with every thrust, and he groaned out your name, his arms shaking with the strain of holding himself up above you. Soon, he was fucking you hard. Every thrust drove him deeper inside of you, hitting that spot that made it almost impossible to breathe. You could feel yourself getting close. 

“Come on, baby,” he panted. “Come for me.” 

You were drowning in him, and when he pulled you in for another kiss, there was so much passion you thought you might be swept away by it all. You’re not sure what to do with yourself, but you know you don’t want this moment to end. Your walls tightened around him as you let go, and you could feel him shuddering as he came with you. 

He stayed there, kissing you softly for a long time before he gently pulled out, rolling onto his back beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you with him. You pressed a kiss to his chest before you rested your cheek on his sweaty skin, listening to his heartbeat as it began to slow. He kissed your head lightly, and for a while, the two of you just laid there, basking in the afterglow. 

It was Bradley who finally broke the silence, and your whole body trembled at his words. 

“Rest for a little bit, sweetheart. I’m not done with you tonight.”

Your pussy clenched. You could still feel his cum oozing out of you slowly from round one, and if you were honest with yourself, you had been wet since you first laid eyes on him. You picked your head up to look at him. Your voice was breathy with anticipation when you asked, “Is that so?”

“Yes. And then, I’m gonna convince you to let me stay the night. And in the morning, after at least one orgasm, I’m gonna cook you breakfast.”

Your breath caught and a lump formed in your throat. He said it so confidently, like it was an indisputable fact. You were surprised at how much you longed for it to be just that. 

This was not at all how you had anticipated your night going. 

“And after that?” You dared yourself to ask. 

He traced your cheek with a sated smile on his handsome face, his mustache twitching and his dark honey eyes sparkling. “I told you, you deserve to be wanted. And I want you.”

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Main Masterlist

Notes: Happy Birthday Em! Thanks for being born. Hope you enjoyed this! Now go do fuckboy things and celebrate 🎉💚

Thanks to @mak-32 for the banner and for all of her help with this!

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