#get her away from the pet peeves

[dutyworn]

name: Havu

pronouns: they/them (I'd prefer ey/em but I don't have the energy to start fighting people about using neopronouns when it's hard enough to get them to use they/them and that... works)

preference of communication: Discord. The tumblr IM box is very difficult for me to focus on, and while I will use it with people who prefer it, I am unlikely to venture into very long messages there.

your most active muse: Shepard, right now, honestly

experience/how long (months, years?): Over 15 years in different platforms, since spring 2013 on tumblr. I started roleplaying on tumblr with a Doctor Who OC (whom I still write on my multi - she has a Mass Effect verse in the making, wink wonk), and mainly wrote the Eleventh Doctor (under legsyes and later snogboxed) for about five years and some other canons and OCs, took a bad mental health year lurking, came back on Castiel (waywardfeathered) mid 2018, dappled into more OCs and canon muses, made a multi (smokedanced), retired Eleven and started writing Thirteen (dochaes)... I run four blogs now (Cas/Thirteen/Wren/multi)

platforms used: Only tumblr; I occassionally write on Discord with Orion and Lexi, because they're both very close to me and get special privileges, but I am not open to writing on Discord with people in general. It doesn't work with my executive dysfunction. Creativity is difficult, and tumblr works for me as well as it does because I can spend a lot of time formatting and making icons, doing the mechanical, easy part of the framework to spark the executives to function with the hard, creative part as well. I simply don't have the tools to consistently write with everyone on Discord.

best experience: No single best one, but every time I develop fully fleshed out dynamics/storylines between someone's muses and mine. It's the best roleplay feeling when your muses just... have a dynamic that just kind of takes life of its own?

rp pet peeves/dealbreakers: I have my dealbreakers listed on my rules. Fandom anti rhetoric being the most important (policing what kind of fiction other people should be allowed to enjoy/write, as in, setting your own boundaries is totally fair, but acting as if someone writing something you don't want to see were "wrong" or "gross" or whatever; callouts over fictional content no matter if I personally engage in that kind of content or not, judging people's morals based on their fictional preferences; equating depictions of bad things to acts of bad things - for example, writing a muse as a racist caricature is an ACT of racism, and I don't condone that at all, but writing an abusive relationship is a DEPICTION of abuse, not an act, and I do condone this fully, it is fiction - trying to coax/guilt-trip another mun into writing something with you when they've said no is an act of crossing boundaries and just bad behaviour and I don't condone that, but writing anything at all between consenting muns is imho fine and I don't tolerate demonising people for this), individual urls on DNIs (I consider this harrassment), making/sharing callouts outside of very specific, extreme cases (I am likely to let it slip if I see mutuals share a callout every now and then unless it's in the vein of "this person writes problematic fictional content", but I regard this on a case by case basis). Like... I'm not trying to police anyone, either. You're allowed to engage in any of these behavours. I won't try to make people take out their DNIs or callouts, at all. You're allowed to do that. I am, also, allowed to choose not to want you in my life due to that.

Pet peeves? I don't know, I have plenty, but it'd feel mean of me to start listing these. They're just annoyances and stuff I fully support people doing despite them annoying me.

fluff, angst, smut: All three, in the order of angst, smut, fluff.

plots or memes? Very very flexible. Total winging it works, intricate plotting works. My preference is some vague plotting, and exchanging ideas in however detailed they come to us while writing, but, I will totally wing it, and I will plot in detail, as well. I struggle more with... no ooc communication whatsoever or detailed plotting before any writing, but I will try and do it anyway for people who prefer those.

long or short replies? Again, flexible. I think it should be normalised that reply length within the same thread can be dynamic. Novella suits setting scene, timeskips, etc. while just a paragraph might suit action or heavy dialogue, to give a chance for the other muse to respond. I generally prefer around 2-4 paragraphs as a baseline.

best time to write?: Whenever I manage to push myself to do it. Context: I have to push myself to do everything, even the things I wanna do, because executive dysfunction. No specific time of the day.

are you like your muse? Almost not in the slightest. Wren is very heart first, I am very head first (this does not mean she's not logical nor that I don't feel emotions but you get what- hopefully you get what I mean). Wren is very engaged emotionally in the world around her as that is just her natural way of being, where I am very detached and feel more like an observer of the world than an active participant. She is good at making decisions, taking action, getting shit done. I am absolute shit at all of the above. She would rather do, I would rather think. (She is a good strategist and very smart, but I mean in the sense of, she would rather think in terms of what has practical use, while I, althought I don't see myself as exceptionally smart, would rather think in terms of I just enjoy it for its own sake and have no interest in the practical application of the things I like to think about.) She's very, very empathetic, and has an easy time picking up on people's emotions, reading between the lines, etc. I almost completely lack emotional empathy (I don't, nearly ever, feel other people's feelings or feel distress at other people's distress; doesn't mean, again, that I'm uncaring, my empathy is just cerebral and simply thought more than emotion, like I can still wish to show compassion even if I don't feel anything about the matter) and can't read between the lines, don't understand hints, etc. Or if I do, it happens with logical analysis rather than intuition. Wren's really brave, I'm super cowardly. Wren's self-sacrificing, I'm self-preserving; she puts others first, I put myself first. She's extroverted and has an easy time being around people, I'm incredibly introverted and could not even live in the same household with other people. She goes into states of just needing to get something done, where logical analysis overrides emotionality but for her that's under extreme stress and almost dissociative, while for me the logical analysis mode is just my natural state and not unhealthy. If we have something in common, I think, perhaps it's that we both hate with a passion to let other people see us vulnerable. We might feel vulnerable under different circumstances, but for both of us it's very unnatural to lean onto other people and let them help in emotional distress. I think, the reasons for this are similar for us? Wren grew up literally an orphan, homeless on the streets since age 10, she's never had a reliable adult figure in her life as a kid. I was tossed into the foster care system and institutionalised around age 13, and did not have safe and/or reliable/emotionally supportive adults around me since that age, either. We both learned from a young age that no one would take care of our emotional needs unless we took care of our own emotional needs. Accepting practical help is relatively fine for us both. Accepting emotional help is... alien. I don't think she recognises the cause of this for herself, fully. She has a habit of explaining it away with "these people are under my command, and a leader should not show weakness because if they can't rely on me how can I ask them to follow me", seeing as her closest friends tend to be also her crew. We both also utilise humour a lot? Even if in different ways.

tagged by: @wcsea, thanks!

tagging: @lovepurposed, @immortaljackal, @detectiveconnor, @diewithaname, @threecardtrick, @drdumaurier, or just commit thievery

#WELL THIS GOT AWAY FROM ME LOL #if anyone read thru all of this you deserve a... a medal #; mun #; outofarmour #i just cannot get over how different wren and i are yet her being a primary muse... #discourse cw #for the pet peeves etc part in case

[werecreature-addicted]

Werewolf and rabbit girl, Werewolf fucking a cute little girl who has cute bunny ears coming out of her hair and an adorable white tail that he loves to grab and pull her to get on her knees and lift her butt up , with her face on the ground and her ears drooping and flooded with the excitement and pleasure that the werewolf gives her, from whom she was supposed to run and get away by instinct, but she only gave up her pussy so that he could fuck her until she went crazy.

and the strawberries she was picking were left lying on the ground next to her being fucked 🐇🍓

anon you've unknowingly stumbled onto a huge pet peeve of mine.

Rabbits are not cute doe-eyed subs. They are in fact huge god damn brats. This bunny knows exactly what the fuck they are doing when they sway that cotton tale. And thumps their foot, throwing a fit if she doesn't get dicked down within an inch of their life.

Prey instincts tell you to freeze and hide, but instead, you run, just to get chased. It's more a game than anything else, you look behind yourself often, just to make sure that your wolfie really is following.

You know what you're doing, you know what monsters live in this patch of woods. it's not a surprise when clawed hands wrap around your waist and bring you to the ground.

You have to stop yourself from grinning as you play innocent, begging for your life, spreading your legs to show off your bunny cunt while you seductively ask if there's anything you can do to keep your life.

"you don't need to do this, you can just ask to get fucked, this is like the third time this month," he growls, his eyes drifting down to your exposed cunt.

"I like things this way" you protest. He takes both of your floppy ears in one hand and tugs on them hard,

"Maybe I should punish you bunny. That might make the lesson stick, what do you think about that?" he asks. You grin. As long as you get fucked, you'll take any punishment the big bad wolf has in store.

#monster imagine #monster fucker #monster #monster boyfriend #teratophillia #werewolves #werewolf #werewolf x reader #werewolf boyfriend

[aaagustd]

and my man, thank you to my man | jjk

pairing: dealer!jeon jungkook x (f)reader

genre/rating: smut, mature/explicit

warnings: he’s not her sugar daddy but… he pays her bills, fingering, p*ssy eatting, slight Dom/sub undertones, begging, denied orgasms, jungkook is a dealer so there's some stuff about that, hating a** roommate, most of this is a flashback

wc: 757

release date: july 29th, 2023; 10:38 pm est

note: not edited bc i’m kinda trashy tonight lol. this is based on the latto meme/tik tok from her speech. “and my man, thank you to my man” lol. yeah, that one. anyway, another cute relationship drabble from me before i slip into my real writing style. honestly, these are just practice for me lol. div cr.

series m.list | main m.list | ao3 version

“Wow. A new MacBook?”

With an eye roll, you brush off your roommate’s obnoxious teasing. Every time Jungkook buys you something she can’t wait to bring up that you’re fucking your weed man.

“Yup,” is all you reply.

But today she’s just got it out for you.

“Hm, how long were you on your knees for that one?” she smirks.

Instead of getting mad, you take a break from your work and sit back on the couch, gracing her with a mischievous smile. She has no idea how far off she actually is.

-

“You taste better when you’re desperate.”

Jungkook moans his words into your pussy, edging you closer to a long-awaited orgasm.

Your hands fist strands of his wavy hair, hanging on for your dear life as he continues to mercilessly sucks your pulsing clit.

“Fuck. Please let me cum. I can’t—”

Jungkook chuckles as he lifts his head. 

“You can cum, but you know what you have to give me first.”

Your withers and contorts within his hold, his strong arms pinning you down so you can’t run from him.

“Come on, baby. You can do it,” he coaxes.

There’s nothing sweet or innocent in his tone. It’s all driven by the eagerness to break you. Your stubbornness has always been his pet peeve, and he knows that you’re willing to lay here and suffer than give him what he wants.

“This isn’t fair!”

Your cries mean nothing to him as he teases you until you reach your peak, only to let the momentum fade away. Sweat begins to form on your skin, and your body begins to tremble with need. You’re close to giving in, but you still hold on with everything you have.

“Shit, Jungkook! Don’t you get tired?”

“Fucking right,” he scoffs. “Tired of your bullshit.”

You can feel his fingers tracing your slit, indicating your impending defeat. Once they slip into your pussy, he’ll control you like a puppet.

“Fuck,” you sob.

He shushes you, then dips his digits inside of you.

“I know, baby. Just let go. It’ll be alright,” he whispers.

Those words paired with the pads of his fingertips touching your spot leave you mumbling a breathless mess.

No longer caring about your pride — tears rolling down your cheeks — you utter the words he’s been expecting since earlier.

“I’m sorry!” you confess. “I should have told you.”

You can smell the satisfaction emitting from his body when he hears you speak. Only then does he take you to the finish line. Your body is taken over by a wave of hot pleasure, freezing your body where it lies on the messy sheets.

Jungkook praises your submission, and licks your sensitive cunt until there’s not a drop of arousal left over. Kissing his way up your exhausted body, he smiles as he reaches your lips.

“Was that so hard?” he teases.

“Shut up.”

When he lies beside you, you roll over and allow him to wrap his arms around you. He rests his chin on top of your head while he talks to you.

“Why are you scared to ask me for stuff?”

You shrug. “It’s not as easy as you put it.”

“I’m not the kind of guy that fucks you and leaves you to fend for yourself. The sooner you realize that the better, baby.”

“I know. It’s just taking me a while to get used to that,” you express.

“It’s all good. I just gotta do a better job at making you see how serious I am about you.”

-

But he didn’t need to. You understood once he said it. 

You can tell by his approach that it’s not about throwing money around. He does small things like checking your car for anything weird, asking about your day and actually allowing you to vent, and just being there mentally and emotionally; along with physically. 

Nobody is there for you like he is. He doesn’t just come in and fix the problem, he helps you figure it out and if you need help he offers.

He’s been to hell and back with you dealing with your old laptop, and he finally gave up on it yesterday. So no, you didn’t spend a second on your knees for it. But you will be on your knees tonight. 

Your poor miserable roommate will just have to rub her sour pussy to the sound of Jungkook getting his dick swallowed. 

“I’m glad you reminded me about that,” you beam. “He’s coming over tonight. I need to thank him for my gift.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fics #jungkook fics #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fanfic #aaagustd.fics

[churipu]

Regular life AU!

Salaryman!Nanami x Sleepyhead!Reader

Reader loves to take naps and Nanami loves to over work so Reader always forces Nami to take naps with her when she’s tired because she knows he’s tired too.

She invades his office covered in her blanket and stands in front of Nanami until he picks her up and they go sleep ;-;

Sometimes he tries to plead with her to wait longer but she doesn’t budge at all 🤣

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 .ᐟ

────── 𝕴 . featuring. nanami kento x fem! reader

────── 𝕴 . warnings. non-sorcerer au! nanami being the man he is, i miss him :(

note. i'm in a lecture right now, and i'm bored out of my mind — but hii nonnie, i absolutely love this idea, i love sleeping and this request is just so cute :( i hope you like this!

"hi, sweetheart." nanami whispers, his hand busy gripping on the pen as he craned his neck from side to side, from paper to paper, "why aren't you napping?"

you furrowed your brows, "i was napping, until i turned over to hug my boyfriend and he's gone."

nanami's eyes promptly averted to yours, the corner of his lips tugging up into a small, exhausted smile, "you know i'm a little busy, right? i really have to get this done the day after tomorrow — i promise i'll be back in bed to nap with you."

his voice was soft, almost inaudible. the exhaustion forming under his eyes was apparent.

"not even just for a few hours?" you questioned, standing in front of his desk — bundled inside a white colored blanket, "you need to rest too, kento. look at you."

"i know, darling. i just need to get this done real quick, okay?" he laid his pen down, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"just for a few hours, please?" you tell him, knowing he wouldn't be able to lay himself to rest unless you forced him to.

nanami is a hard worker. i think that should be fairly obvious — he over works a lot, even after office hours. which was a pet peeve to you that he's discarding his own health away for work. and no matter how hard you tried, he just won't stop.

"i know, love. in a minute. okay?"

his question received no answer. that made his eyes rise up to meet yours and they weren't happy. nanami chuckles, he leaned back onto his chair, "you. me. nap. now."

slowly, he stands up and stretches his arms upwards, "i'm sorry for being so absent lately, come here," the man opens his arms for you to fall into.

and so you did, jumping into his arms.

he pats your hair, tightening the blanket around you — before prompting to carry you up, sauntering back to the bedroom, "feel better?"

nodding, you placed your face in between his neck and shoulder, "much better, and you stink."

his body vibrated as he stifled back a laugh, kissing the top of your head, "i haven't had the time to shower after coming back from work, i'm sorry," nanami explains.

shaking your head, you huffed, "i know, it's okay. i still love you though."

nanami whispers back, "i love you too."

he entered the bedroom, laying you down on the bed — gently pulling the covers off you, tucking you in like how a mother would to her child. can't say that you didn't enjoy the pampering.

"i'm going to take a quick shower, i'll be back," nanami leans down, kissing the tip of your nose, making you subconsciously scrunch it.

"don't take too long," you rolled your eyes.

"i won't, darling."

as he got up to leave, you grabbed the hem of his shirt, "i want something before you go shower."

nanami raised a brow, waiting for your statement. but you didn't, all he saw was you puckering your lips out slightly — nanami smiled, pulling you in by your neck, planting his lips onto yours.

"i love you, ken."

he kissed you again, "i love you too."

© churipu 2024 , do not copy or repost anywhere

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #nanami oneshot #nanami kento oneshot

[faetreides]

i’m thinking about modern!coryo again… ‘n the way he’d just love humiliating you. when you’ve been particularly bratty (let’s be real, any time you tell him no he thinks you’re being defiant… no matter the circumstances), he loves to shove your face into the mattress so your ass is facing him, and grip your hips, teasing his cock against your entrance until you’re whining and begging for him to fuck you. but he doesn’t! he just lets his cock slap against your clit and tease your slick hole until you’re soaking your panties. his favourite thing though, is filming you take his cock, because even though he’d never let anybody see the videos (besides maybe his friends), he gets off on the way you’re whining for him to put the phone away as he fills you up, pearly cum sliding down your soft thighs. but he won’t, because he just loves the way you’re absolutely humiliated at the thought of somebody seeing how much of a whore you are for him

CW: anal, sejanus mention (throuple au tease), typical coryo type warnings, yandere/possessive & obsessive behavior, gn reader but there is feminization (reader calls themselves a "good girl", coryo calls your pussy "sweet girl" & assigns it she/her pronouns), blood (coryo has a fantasy of you tearing), accidental slight pet play/dumbification, my modern coryo's typical inability to understand/care about poor(er) people, the ending is inspired by ghostface's finishing move in dbd, implied plus sized reader (who's afab) he loves you really.

So true, you could do something as small as say “i want to be alone in the bathroom for 5 minutes” and he’d lose his shit. Something about that arrogant rich boy behavior turned up to 100 because he’s inherently a psycho….. like he loves you deeply but wdym his prized possession has a mind of their own (if you just decided to do everything he wants, he’d support you making your own decisions). His whole vibe was being untouchable and unavailable but now it’s coming apart. Like do you know how much he planned to hoe around when his family inevitably made him get married??? But now you’ve fucked it all up and made him feel like he’s constantly writhing around in every circle of hell fr.

So yeah, he can’t take it if he feels like you aren’t “putting in as much effort” as he is. And i don’t mean that he’d be pissed if you’re not cooking or cleaning, i mean that he’d be peeved if you weren’t matching his energy (batshit balls to wall insane). He’ll do a little cute open palm wave like “Hi, baby 🥰” when you look at him over your shoulder with tears in your eyes. King of false sympathy with all the cooing and mocking your facial expression (which you wouldn’t even have to make if you were behaving). His weird ass is completely naked even though he made you keep your clothes on, and he tore a hole in your leggings with his teeth for easy access.

He’ll put his dick in between your ass cheeks and fuck you like that until the sheets are soaked because you got so desperate (you nearly pissed yourself). He’ll press the head against your asshole and see how deep he can get before you realize that he’s using the wrong whole. Sometimes he wishes that he’d tug his cock from your hole to find the whole thing covered in blood. If you catch on him, he’ll just say that it was an accident. But to be real, you knew immediately. It just gets you hot watching him go on his little power trips. The pleasure of letting your rabid dog off of his leash but he thinks it’s his idea does something to you that you’re currently ignoring.

The iPhone camera you can see from the standing mirror by your bed doesn’t exactly catch you off guard. Coryo’s got a fair few videos of you getting backshots in his family’s limo and even more of him devouring your pussy anytime and anywhere he pleases. Your stomach rolls with shame but your pussy clenches in arousal. A big part of being able to handle being his s/o means having the ability to straddle the line between calling his bluff and baring your neck in submission. So you just whine pleadingly and let your head fall forward onto the pillow.

You'd never admit that there are times where you'd be perfectly happy if your ass was all he fucked; that on mornings when the sunlight beams down on you as Coryo pushes the velvet curtains from the large penthouse windows and all you can see out of the eye that's not smothered in the pillow is your boyfriend in a pair of gray sweatpants, you feel feral with the need to swallow his cock all the way to the base and lie there forever.

A "love tap" to your clit brings you out of your thirsting. When all you do is gasp, you receive a firmer strike.

"Don't tell me you're already out of it? Did I make my smart baby all stupid already?"

"Hngh~ Uh huh, don't stop..." You beg, the carefully maintained image of the prim and proper perfect student crumbling under his touch.

Your need to be praised and to have male approval can really be a curse sometimes, because outside of the bedroom you don't let yourself be as willing of a kept pet as Coryo wants. But as soon as you're alone, you gratefully sink into the safe space he creates for you where you can just... let go and have someone else think for you for a change.

It feels like bolts of electricity go through you when two of his fingers start to trace letters on your pussy lips. It makes you think of his family crest branded on the gates of their mansions.

C-O-R-I-O-L-A-N-U-S S-N-O-W, pinching your clit after every letter. (training)

"That's okay, I like you dumb anyway. Can't use that big brain to think about anything else but me when I get this dick in you." He says and wags it in his hands at you like it's a treat.

The bed creaks as he sits back on his heels, and like a good girl you parts your legs as far as they can go.

Welcome Home.

The heavy weight of his palms clutching your hips calms any lingering anxiety, his nails bite into your flesh but you know he'll be licking and nuzzling the marks soothingly later. He's told you how beautiful you are in the beginning, that he relishes in the way you give up all tension to him with a sigh; that one of his favorite versions of you is the you that shuts down. Has him feeling like the "family man" he always vowed to never turn into.

"Now, you know the drill, take a deep breath..." He pants, somehow already pussy drunk, "It's going to be a tight fit, dove."

His grip tightens as he feeds his tip to your clenching hole, you soak in the mutters of 'aw, I missed you too, sweet girl.' You know he wasn't talking to you.

Your breath hitches when you start taking him past the tip, and like always, Coryo wraps a hand around the nape of your neck and massages it to distract you from the inevitable sting of pain. It'll always be there no matter how much of a mess he's made of your cunt.

"That's my dumb bunny, biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig stretch." He grunts, dragging his words out when the thickest part of his cock comes to greet you.

You moan when he takes his other hand off of your hip to reach it around and rub your twitching clit. More juices drip from your hole, making the remaining inches slide in a lot easier.

You hear shuffling and the bed creaks as Coryo leans over to grab something off the nightstand. He quickly finds what he's looking for and settles back into position behind you. He gropes one of your ass cheeks and gives it a couple long squeezes before he jiggles it, letting out a low whistle when he does it again.

You mewl impatiently, clenching your pussy around his long cock. He doesn't give you what you want, however, until almost a minute later. He jostles his hips against your ass, showing off for the camera that's focused down on where the two of you are connected.

Coryo's head shoots up when he hears you sniffle, and even though he could tease about how much of a needy whore you are, you're HIS needy whore so he only smiles.

"Alright, alright. 'M sorry, petal, I know your pussy's gagging for this dick. I'll give her what she wants, don't you worry."

Your mouth falls open on a silent moan as he leisurely drags his length out of you until the tip catches on your entrance; being forced to be broken down and rebuilt around it until you both turn to ash. He has never wanted anything more than he wants you to somehow grow to only survive of his own body. His blood would be your water, his very dna would be your floss, his bone marrow would soothe your raw throat, his organs would be your snacks, his bones would be your jewelry, his teeth would be your little trinkets, and his surrounding flesh would be your every meal until you could eat no more.

You have no idea how much of your boyfriend's time has been spent making sure he tastes delectable, in every way.

Like those people from Pompei who are forever immortalized in the arms of their lover, chained to the passage of time but the eyes that dust them off are the only things about them that change.

You made him watch Titanic once, saying that your MasterChef binge could be paused for a night. He huffed but complied, and gun to his head, he wiped his tears on the arm of the couch before you could notice that he was crying. Rose could've done a little more to help Jack in his opinion (they both could have fit on the wood), he'd have never just let you go like that. But there was something in the way all they really had in the world was each other, in how calm the old couple was as the water creeped into their room; because they were together, and to Coryo, death after a very very long and happy life is an experience that's meant to be shared (no matter the circumstances).

His body has been moving on autopilot during his usual mid-sex spiral monologue. There's ringing in his ears as he tunes back into your hiccup-y whines and high-pitched moans (he loved when you stopped being so fucking shy). His thrusts had gradually sped up until they were at the speed they were now, your bodies now making wet smacking sounds as his dick pulverizes your pussy. He had been so lost in thought that he nearly dropped his phone, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was still recording.

He removes his death grip on your ass cheek to slap your swaying tits one after the other. He can never resist showing love to the chub of your tummy either, so he hits that too.

"Yeah, you like that, bunny?" He sneers, tonguing your ear and gnawing at the lobe as the excess saliva trickles down the valley of your breasts.

It's a rhetorical question, of course you do.

But you answer, using your words like he often "urges" you to.

"Like it so much, Coryo.... fuck!"

His thrusts become even faster, and he gathers as much of your hair in his hand as possible. Your moans cut off into a gasp as he wrenches your head up off the pillow by your hair, bringing the phone around to put your tear-stained face into frame.

You're helpless to do anything but take every inch he slams inside your puffy cunt, which will no doubt be sore and red by the time Coryo's done with his latest fit. He bends down to whisper in your ear about braindead you look, sobbing with your eyes glazed over and your mouth gaping.

"Shh, that's it, keep going baby. It's all about you, these'll just be fun memories so I can have little parts of you forever, so you could never really leave me."

You never look away from the camera though, and he's suddenly overcome with so much gratitude that he uses his grip on your hair to bring you into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss; your tongues making it so wet you'd think he'd been eating your pussy nonstop with how soaked the lower half of his face gets.

He doesn't let you pull away, the impulsive french kissing only ends so he can lean his head against yours and get into the shot with you. He's smiling so warmly like you're taking a selfie on one of your numerous vacations, but his hips never stop their rough assault on your already thoroughly debauched pussy. Coryo tightens his hold on your hair and pecks your round cheek when you whimper due to the sting.

"Smile, petal."

The videos are kept in a locked folder on his phone titled “💍💒", and while he threatens to show his friends (in actuality he’d only show sejanus in some version of this au where he’s trying to force him into a throuple), he’ll apologize with his tongue swirling around your sensitive nipples once he feels like you’ve learned your lesson. If you’re really upset, he’ll offer to make up to you on his father’s yacht in Greece. (he has your bags packed already)

faetreides 2024. request rules. please consider tipping/reblogging if you enjoyed!

#coriolanus snow x reader #tw dark content #⚰️.deaddove #coriolanus snow #modern!coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus smut #coriolanus fanfiction #tbosas x you #tbosas x reader #tbosas #yandere #male yandere #yandere themes #yandere x reader #yandere smut #male yandere x reader #coryo x you #coryo x reader #🎧.asks #thg x you #thg x reader #the hunger games x you #the hunger games x reader

[cheolism]

in the eye of the beholder

➳ choi seungcheol x fem!reader

➳ summary: when you don't like how you look in the mirror, your boyfriend decides to take it upon himself to worship you.

➳ word count approx. 6.2k

➳ tags: boyfriend!cheol, dom!cheol, possessive cheol. wall sex, fingering, oral; unprotected sex. worshipful sex. cheol's crude mouth, dirty talk. crying during sex from pleasure, mating press, spitting, hair pulling, consensual choking (just a little). pet names (princess, baby, sweetheart, angel, pretty girl, beautiful). simp seungcheol, his real spending addiction. he's going to tell you you're beautiful until you believe it.

➳ warnings: MDNI. fat/chubby!reader, insecurity, internalized fatphobia, anxiety. mentions of fatness, stretchmarks, love handles.

➳ request: I was wondering if you could make a seungcheol smut with a plus size girl reader and he basically treats you like he worships you and your body right after the reader felt insecure about her body and he says he stills adores you no matter how you look like while doing it

➳ note: this is slightly different than the request, but i hope you like it nonetheless!! i think you wanted it to be soft and cute but it. did not end up like that. nyways this is for all my fellow chubby/fat girlies <3 hopefully we will all one day get a cheol seungcheol

honestly, you didn't even know you had made a face. you had heard all your life that your face was too expressive for your own good and that it would land you in trouble, and finally it had. only, trouble had a name and his name was choi seungcheol.

the mirror had never been your best friend. all your life you had been obsessed with it. not in the vainish way, not in the pretty way that girls with hair that obeyed the rules of gravity and whose puberty somehow neglected to give them any acne were.

you were obsessed with the mirror in the way that it was your greatest enemy, your greatest foe, and yet you kept returning. when you used the restroom you couldn't help but pause in front of it, peering close at your pores and frowning. couldn't help but hover and look, taking note of every flaw. you stopped in front of the mirror before you left your apartment, eyes sharply taking in how your pants clung too tightly around your waist and not enough around your knees, how your middle seemed to be the first and only thing anyone would ever see when they looked at you.

so when you put on a dress from last spring your first instinct was to look in the mirror.

you had liked the dress. liked how it felt brushing around your knees, liked the colors of the little flowers and bees. you liked how the sleeves were long enough to cover your arms, liked how the dress didn't cling to your middle.

but then you went to the mirror.

you heard seungcheol as he moved about the apartment, sighing and grumbling about something.

"i just don't understand how mingyu can be so fucking happy all the time," seungcheol whined.

"we've been filming all fucking day --" did the dress hug your breasts too tightly? "-- and he's still fucking smiling away like someone sucked his dick before filming --" did it cling to your ass too much? "-- and even fucking seokmin was getting tired of it!" and when you turned you were wide, you were wide and fat and --

seungcheol's voice suddenly came from behind you, making you jump. you spun around, eyes wide as you looked up at your boyfriend, trying rather poorly to catch your breath.

"and what's going on here, sweetheart?"

immediately you knew you were caught. seungcheol's voice had that deadly sort of sweetness to it he only got when he was peeved about something and trying to shove it down. but your boyfriend was more passion than anything else, and his eyes seemed to sharpen as he stood in front of you.

even if his voice and face hadn't given away his irritation, the petname did. sweetheart. he only ever used it when he was pissed and trying to cover it, when he was trying to use his sweetness as a way to distract himself.

"i'm --" you crossed your hands in front of your stomach, covering it. "just looking at the dress."

but crossing your arms was the wrong move. seungcheol moved closer, his thick brows raising. disbelief practically radiated off of him.

he didn't need to verbally question you, however. all seungcheol had to do was cross his own arms over his chest, making his chest bulge and forearms flex, raising his brow and twisting his lip in disapproval, and your insecurities were bubbling up and out.

"it's just --" you spun around, back to the mirror. "look at me, seungcheol! look! i'm so! i look like a fucking whale --"

as soon as the word left your mouth he was on you, his arms wrapping around you and bringing you flush to his chest. seungcheol buried his chin into your shoulder, causing you to tense at the little flash of pain from it. but you didn't move, letting him press his hands to your stomach, mapping it, before they settled on your hips.

"what did i fucking say about that word, princess?" seungcheol hummed, eyes glinting dangerously.

you swallowed, meeting his eyes in the mirror. "but --"

"since you seemed to forget," he rushed on, raising his voice to drown yours out. "i'll just have to remind you."

"seungcheol," you said, hands going to his and lifting them off of you. you didn't want him to touch you when you were like this, as if your poor nature would somehow leak into him and tarnish him. "seungcheol, i'm just fat and ugly, and i'm going to change my dress and it doesn't need to be a whole thing --"

seungcheol pulled his arms from your grasp, bringing a sharp gasp from your lips. then your boyfriend was wrapping one arm around your middle, bringing your body flush against his. his other hand went to your face, holding and guiding it to look at the mirror square-on.

"seems like i've been neglecting my duty as your boyfriend," he announced, voice stern. he cocked his head from where he rested it on your shoulder, black curls shifting into his eyes.

your stomach twisted at his words, guilt immediately flooding through you. "no -- cheol, it's nothing to do with you, it's all me. you're perfect --"

"and so are you, baby," he interjected, squeezing you. his hand traveled from your face, fingertips dragging down your neck and over your collar, his tough light enough to make your skin erupt out in goosebumps. "you're absolutely perfect."

your face instantly contorted, doubt heavy. seungcheol sighed, joining his hands together around your waist and interlocking them. "princess. you know what i think about all of this."

"i know," you agreed.

this wasn't the first time your insecurities about your body and its shape reared their heads. it was such a heavy subject, one that you constantly tried to ignore; seungcheol, on the other hand, wanted to meet them head-on. he was the sort of person who didn't shy away from problems, especially when it came to those he loved.

so he saw your insecurities, saw all of your self-hatred and how it shimmered just beneath the surface all the time. you knew he hated it. you knew he hated your doubt and insecurity, but it wasn't something that just could be stopped on a whim.

seungcheol led your bodies into a sway, eyes still on your figures in the mirror. "and you know i love you."

"i do." you knew he did. choi seungcheol loved you, and this was a fact of the universe, just as the moon is a cold rock and the sun is hot gas and water is made of hydrogen and oxygen and choi seungcheol is made up of love for you; and you, him.

"and i know you're beautiful." he tilted his head, pressing his lips against the fabric covering your shoulder. "i think you're beautiful right now, in this cute little dress. i think you're beautiful when you're asleep. when you're eating. when you're doing nothing, when you're concentrating. i think you're gorgeous, baby. doesn't that matter?"

you swallowed, leaning back into his hold, letting seungcheol accept your weight. it did matter; it does. you treasured seungcheol more dearly than you ever could yourself, and you valued his opinion and thoughts more than any gold or ruby.

but the world wasn't made of choi seungcheols.

it was made of strangers with superficial thoughts, who didn't care about the inside of the person, the heart and soul, as long as the outside shined; didn't care if the rock in their hand was pyrite as long as the outside glimmered with gold; as long as the person in front of them fit their narrative.

you knew that, as soon as you walked outside of your apartment, you would be subjected to the world. to people who may look over you without a glance, who wouldn't give you a second look. but there was also people who would squint and guffaw, who would see your love handles and the stretchmarks on your arms and let their hatred roar.

you valued seungcheol so much; treasured him so much. you would take a single seungcheol over a thousand strangers any day. so why did the stranger matter so much when it came to your appearance?

"what other people think don't matter," he murmured, dropping another kiss to your shoulder. "what they see doesn't matter. isn't that what you tell me?"

"it's different," you mumbled, eyes dropping to his hands. you settled your hands over his, watching as he turned his hands to grab yours and squeeze.

"how is it different, princess?"

you sighed, pressing your thumbs into his hands, letting him rock the two of you back and forth. you knew where this conversation was going, knew you were walking into his trap. "because you're beautiful."

he hummed. "but not to everyone."

"they're stupid if they don't think you're beautiful," you huffed, flicking your eyes up. seungcheol's eyes had softened, twinkling at you. he was looking at you like a poet looked at a flower, an artist their muse, a fan their idol; he was looking at you with adoration. "cheol . . ."

"you took the words straight from my mouth, baby." he straightened, tossing his head a little to shake his curls from his eyes. "tell me, princess. what's the definition of fat?"

you rolled your eyes. seungcheol maneuvered you, turning you from the mirror and towards him. you knew what he was getting at, but still you played along. "plump. having excess."

seungcheol nodded, pouting out his lips in thought. he brought your conjoined hands up, resting them on your shoulders. "and ugly?"

"offensive to look at," you recited, knowing that if you didn't he would bring out his phone and pull up the dictionary.

"and where do those two overlap?" he questioned. "where do the definitions line up? are they synonyms?"

his hands moved from your shoulders, hovering over your skin as he moved them. seungcheol settled his hands around your waist, squeezing. "no, but for some people --"

"if they find fat people offensive," he broke in, "then they have something wrong with them and should take a closer look in the mirror and see the true ugliness of their heart."

seungcheol finally sighed, letting his eyes close. he used his grip on your body to tug you into him, wrapping his arms around you. you went easily, letting seungcheol hold you, eyes sliding shut.

the two of you stood for a handful of moments, basking in the presence of the other. seungcheol was warm and strong, the line of his body sturdy against yours. it was like his love, you thought, warm, strong, never-wavering.

seungcheol pulled away, one of his hands coming up to cup your face. his eyes were soft and sweet, filled with the love for you that his heart couldn't contain, his entire being drenched in it. "you're beautiful, princess. fat or skinny, dress or sweatpants, messy hair or freshly done. you're absolutely gorgeous, and i love you. i love you."

the weight of his mouth against yours had you sighing, eyes fluttering. seungcheol kissed you sweetly, tenderly, warmly; as if he could force the love he had for you into your body and soul through kissing you.

his hand sunk into your hair, using the grip to angle your head. he tugged your lower lip between his, a little gasp escaping you.

"seungcheol," you breathed, his lips detaching from yours. he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth before carrying on. his lips skimmed your chin; your jaw; your neck. they coaxed sighs and gentle exhales out, your body turning towards his, a sunflower chasing the sun.

"you're beautiful," he declared, voice as sure as the dawn. his words were warm against your skin, breath hitting it and causing goosebumps to break out. "you're perfect. my perfect girl."

and then seungcheol's pushing you against the wall next to the mirror, his lips attaching to your neck and sucking. you moaned out his name, arms coming up and around his shoulders, baring your neck for him as an offering.

"such a pretty girl," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the hickey he left before he moved on. "pretty girls deserve to be rewarded, don't they, princess?"

seungcheol fell to his knees in front of you, the dull thump making you wince. then he grabbed your knee, pushing up and out, bringing it over his shoulder.

"cheol," you breathed, all air seemingly leaving your lungs. "seungcheol, seungcheol."

he grinned, eyes shining as he kneeled between your legs. "that's me, princess."

seungcheol pushes forward, using the hand not keeping your thigh hooked over his shoulder to push up your dress. he paused for a moment, the silence taking over the room. "you -- you're not wearing panties, baby."

"was just trying the dress on," you whined, sinking your hand into his dark hair. his locks were long enough that you could pull and tug, wrap them around your fingers and marvel in their softness. "didn't have a chance to put any on."

"perfect," he replied. "if i had my way you'd never wear panties, you know?"

before you could reply seungcheol was disappearing underneath your dress. you couldn't help but jump when his fingers pressed against your pussy lips, prodding and feeling the warmth there.

"even down here is pretty and perfect," he hummed.

thoroughly embarrassed, you began saying his name in a scolding tone. but as soon as the first syllable was leaving your lips he was attaching his to your cunt, running his tung up the length of your pussy.

his name ended up leaving your lips in a loud cry. you threw your head back against the wall, the dull thud not rendering as your boyfriend repeated the action, using his spit to wetten your cunt.

"gotta get wet for me, baby." seungcheol shifted closer, and then his tongue was brushing against your hole. you clenched immediately, gasping in surprise. but then he was shoving his tongue in, humming.

seungcheol ate you messily, pressing his entire face against your cunt. he used his spit and spread it along your cunt with his tongue, lapped at your hole and pressed a fingertip underneath it, massaging the muscle and coaxing it.

soon enough you were drenched, your cunt soaking your boyfriend's face as he continued to eat you out. he slurped against your pussy, swallowing your juices eagerly. he pressed a line of kisses from your hole to your clit, and then he was wrapping his lips around it and sucking while his fingers poked at your hole.

seungcheol worked his tongue against your clit as he inserted a thick finger into your cunt. his fingers were so thick, the stretch always causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head, burning in the best way. seungcheol continued working you until his pointer finger slid fully inside of your cunt, the slide easy due to your wetness.

he pressed a kiss to your clit, causing you to clench around him. seungcheol laughed, and when he spoke his voice was thick in his throat. "such a good girl, princess. took my finger so well. you're so wet and tight, so perfect for me. but you're always so perfect, aren't you?"

you felt his second finger slide along your folds, collecting your fluids. you scrambled against him in anticipation, your fingers sinking into his curls and clenching down.

"that's right princess," he murmured, slurping against your clit, his voice soft compared to the loud squelching of your cunt. "gonna make you feel so good, gonna make you forget anything but my name."

his second finger probed against your hole and then, in a fluid movement that had your stomach clenching, slid in alongside the first. his fingers were so fucking thick, so fucking thick and large and filling. seungcheol could move his fingers easily in your cunt, your pussy offering no resistance.

"you're so wet, baby," he pressed his mouth against your clit and slurped, the vibrations of his mouth earning a loud squeal from yours. "so tight around my fingers. dunno how we'll fit my cock inside, princess."

he moved his face from your cunt, pressing his mouth against the thigh hooked over his shoulder and kissing. in doing so seungcheol spread your fluids along your skin, creating a mess along your thigh. meanwhile his two fingers continued moving inside of you, your cunt clenching around them eagerly in a poor attempt to keep them wedged inside.

"but i know you'll take my cock, won't you, princess?" seungcheol flicked his eyes up at you, though you didn't notice. you were too lost in your own pleasure, your hands pulling at his hair while you squeezed your eyes shut. "you always take my dick so good, baby. always feel so perfect around it, your tight little cunt so perfect for my fat cock."

his words pulled a full shiver from your body, muscles tensing. seungcheol grinned against your skin. he slid his ring finger in alongside the other two, the stretch bringing a loud cry from your lips, back arching against the wall and thigh tightening around him.

seungcheol chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to your thigh. then he began alternating between sucking and nipping, the little sparks of pain making your toes curl and bringing out sweet gasps.

you came with a loud cry, your orgasm long and prolonged, gently coaxed into being by seungcheol's steady fingers and wicked mouth. he continued working at you even as you spasmed around his digits, cunt clenching.

"fuck, baby," he laughed. "your cunt's squeezing so tightly around my fingers. do you wish it was my cock, hm? wish it was my cock you were squeezing around so you could milk it dry? wish i was dumping into you, filling you with my spunk?"

the crudeness of his words drew a low moan from you, fingers digging into his hair. seungcheol knew his words could twist your stomach and bring heat coursing through your body just as well as his actions could and he never missed out on the opportunity to do so.

his dark, sweet eyes were always watching you after all. taking in how you looked at yourself in mirrors, how you always seemed to linger around toddlers with a soft smile; how you always seemed to go still whenever he uttered words like spunk and cunt.

being known was mortifying, but being known by choi seungcheol? being known by choi seungcheol meant a double-edged sword of comfort and cunning, of using your own preferences and perversions against you.

seungcheol pulled back, slipping his fingers from your cunt. he held up his hand, getting your attention.

you gasped, appalled. his hand was soaked from your fluids, and when he spread out his fingers strings of your juices connected them. his hand and forearm practically shined in the light, drenched in you.

seungcheol stood from the floor, knees cracking, guiding your thigh off of his shoulder. you stumbled, knees weak and unable to properly hold yourself up. seungcheol's clean hand immediately went to your waist, steadying you.

"careful, pretty girl," he warned, pressing you against the wall to help steady you. he brought his dirty hand up to your mouth, fingers tugging at your bottom lip. "okay princess. come on, open your pretty little mouth for me."

you obeyed, parting your lips. seungcheol slid his three fingers into your mouth, immediately filling it. for a moment you were overwhelmed, the weight of his fingers inside your mouth nearly suffocating, tears biting at the corners of your eyes.

then you breathed out through your nose, calming yourself. you brought your hands up around his wrist, holding seungcheol's hand still. then you brought your tongue up and against his digits, tasting your orgasm, licking it off of his fingers and swallowing around them.

"that's a good girl," he hummed, eyes half-closed as he watched you. his dark lashes, which were thick and long and devastatingly beautiful, fluttered. "fuck you're so beautiful with my fingers in your mouth, baby."

you hummed around his fingers, squeezing his wrist in your grip.

seungcheol cursed softly, pulling his hand out of your mouth. he placed both of his hands on your waist, guiding you off of the wall and towards the bed.

"fuck you're gorgeous," seungcheol said, admiring you. your hair was messed up from being against the wall, spit smeared around your mouth from taking his fingers. "my beautiful girl."

then he was kissing you, mouth eagerly clashing against yours. seungcheol practically devoured your mouth, tongue taking and claiming yours for his own.

his hands went to your dress, bunching up the skirt. seungcheol brought it up over your hips, hands sliding along your skin. he pulled his mouth from yours, kissing along your jaw.

"gotta get your dress off, angel." seungcheol separated from you just long enough to help you pull off your dress, baring your body for his eyes. his eyes darted over your body, biting his lip and greedily taking you in.

"that's my beautiful girl," he announced, pleased. his hands went to your love handles, squeezing possessively. seungcheol traced his fingers long the ridges and valleys of your stretchmarks, hands smoothing over the fat of your middle and holding, massaging. "fucking beautiful."

you sighed, shaking your head softly. but you pressed into seungcheol all the same, letting his hands continue their journey, memorizing your body as if he hadn't seen it a thousand times before.

seungcheol, just as he was passionate, was covetous. he would say as much himself, laughing as he presented whatever high-end piece of clothing he recently splurged on for one of you. he treated his greed as a part of him, something he earned and respected.

what's the problem in liking pretty things, princess, he laughed, pulling away so he could admire the new necklace he just placed around your neck. i'm just a simple man who likes beautiful things. that's why i chased after you.

so he greedily drank your body in, enraptured by its beauty. the fat of your thighs and hips, the curve of your stomach; the hang of your breasts and the valley between, the stretchmarks along your arms and waist. his tough was gentle and sweet, almost reverent, like a devoted worshiper before his most precious goddess.

seungcheol's mouth went to your neck, plump lips skimming alongside your skin. he went to your shoulder, biting the skin there gently.

"okay baby," he hummed, pulling back. seungcheol softly guided you to the bed, his touch still delicate. you leaned back on the bed, bracing your hands against the mattress. you bore your body to him, unconcerned momentarily with your modesty and instead enraptured by his.

his hands went to the hem of his hoodie, pulling the large article off. seungcheol's body was filled, biceps and shoulders thick. he had lost the severity of his abs in the few weeks of break, but they still lingered and drew your eyes.

"keep looking at me with those sweet eyes of yours and i'll have to fuck you until tears are coming out of them," seungcheol smirked, his hands resting on the waistband of his sweats. "but i think i'll be doing that anyways, princess."

you shifted, reaching and brushing your hair back and off of your shoulder. you glanced down at his dick without realizing it. you could see the fat imprint of it through his sweats, the sight of it making you salivate and your cunt clench.

slowly, tantalizingly, seungcheol hooked his fingers into the waistband of his pants. he pulled both his pants and underwear down over his ass, past his thick thighs and then seungcheol was stepping out of them.

his dick was large and thick and red, standing at attention. he took it in his hand, hissing at the contact. you watched, enchanted, as he dragged his hand alongside the dick, coaxing precum from its tip.

"god, baby," he groaned, shutting his eyes. seungcheol took his lower lip in his mouth, sucking at it. "your fucking eyes, princess."

seungcheol played with the tip of his dick with his fingers for a moment before releasing it. then he stepped forward and to the bed, fitting his body between your legs. when he offered his fingers to you you immediately opened your mouth, accepting his fingers in.

his precum was slightly bitter to the taste, but you sucked at his fingers anyways, welcoming it.

"that's a good girl," he sighed before withdrawing his fingers. "up on the bed, princess."

you moved, dragging your knees onto the bed as to climb further up it. as soon as you were turned to seungcheol his hands were on your hips, thumbs pressing into the fat of your ass.

"fucking hell," he groaned, fingers pressing into your body. "your ass, baby. i never get tired of looking at your sweet ass, always looks so good."

he squeezed your middle once more before he released you, hands settling along the curve of your ass and guiding you up the bed. once you were at the head of it you plopped onto your back, legs immediately opening for him.

seungcheol kneeled before your body, hands settling on your knees. his eyes roamed your body, drinking you in. "you look so perfect like this, you know that? spread out on the bed for me, all bare and ready. ready for my dick, ready for me to stuff my cock inside your cute cunt."

seungcheol dipped his head, pressing a kiss to your knee. "i wish you knew how beautiful you were, baby. but if i have to spend the rest of my life convincing you, then that's what i'll do."

he glanced up at you, dark eyes piercing through your own. "if i need to spend the rest of my life fucking your cunt raw for you to be convinced, then i'll do it. gladly."

seungcheol moved from you, reaching up past your head. he grabbed a pillow, his free hand going to your hips and guiding them up so he could shift the pillow beneath them. he resumed his position of kneeling before you, hands bracing on either of your knees.

slowly, as to not strain your body too much, he began pushing your knees back and up, revealing more and more of your cunt to him. the stretch burned slightly as your muscles protested the new positions he was putting you into, but you didn't protest.

once your thighs were pressed against your chest, seungcheol stopped manipulating you. he groaned a little, eyes taking in your plush figure. "fucking gorgeous, baby."

then his hand was on his dick, pressing the fat head against your hole. your breath hitched in your throat, eyes shutting at the pressure of his dick. "cheol -- cheol, you're so big --"

he laughed breathlessly. seungcheol continued to steadily press his dick inside of you. you watched, transfixed, as your boyfriend worked his tongue around his mouth; pursed his lips; and then he was leaning over your cunt, a thick wad of spit dropping from his mouth and onto where his dickhead pressed against your hole.

you groaned, pussy clenching. seungcheol's hand went to your cunt, massaging around your hole, coaxing it to take in his fat dick. you relaxed into the bed, pleasure manifesting itself warmly in your gut at his fingertips.

seungcheol's dick slid inside. you keened, tossing your head back against the pillows as his dick split you open. he cursed, voice low in his throat, and then seungcheol was laying himself against you.

he used his weight to press your thighs close to your chest, to keep your body trapped beneath his. you were practically flat against the bed from his body, seungcheol all around you, the scent and feel of him flooding your senses.

"fuck," he hissed, lashes fluttering. "fucking so tight for me princess, so tight and warm and fucking perfect. you're so perfect, baby, so goddamn perfect for me"

his hips pressed against your ass, signifying he was fully sheathed inside. seungcheol gathered his breath as he waited for your cunt to relax around him, his large hands sliding beneath your knees and squeezing.

he turned his head, pressing a kiss to your leg. "that's a good girl," he murmured, nose brushing alongside your skin. "taking me so beautifully."

you hummed, sucking on your lower lip. you felt so incredibly full with his dick inside of you. part of you, the more animalistic part of you that was kept tucked away, wished you could feel like this all the time. wished you always had his dick balls-deep inside of you, pressing at your core and forcing your walls to accommodate him.

but, as good as warming his dick was, you wanted more. you may have been full from his cock, but you were still starving.

so you rocked your hips up as best as you could with his full weight on top of you, urging his dick in further.

"fuck," he breathed, pressing his forehead against your leg. "fuck. okay. okay, baby."

slowly seungcheol withdrew from your body. the drag of his cock against your walls had you whining, grinding up into the air in a poor attempt to put his dick back inside.

he stopped once his cockhead was tugging at your hole, looking down at the place where the two of you were joined. "shit, princess. even this part of you is beautiful."

you wanted to reach out and smack his head. instead you felt heat rise to your cheeks at his shamelessness.

"fuck me, cheol," you begged, furrowing your brow. you reached out, grabbing onto his shoulders and trying to force him closer. "please, cheol. please fuck me."

"aw," he cooed, dark eyes twinkling. "you even beg prettily. as a matter of fact --" he guided your legs as he spoke, hooking them over his broad shoulders. "-- i think i'd like you to beg a little more for me, baby. let me hear your pretty mouth."

"seungcheol," you whined, desperate. you wanted his dick back inside of you, wanted seungcheol to impale you on his dick. you wanted him to take you, wanted to feel him ravage your body. you -- "want your dick in me, cheol. want you to fuck me like -- like i'm the prettiest fucking thing and you want to make me yours."

seungcheol blanched for a moment, eyes widening at your words. then a curse escaped his mouth, and he was bracing his heads on either side of your head. he sheathed his cock back inside your cunt smoothly, without any of the caution he had exhibited earlier.

"fuck," you moaned, trying to arch up into him to no avail. his body was pressing you firmly against the bed still, leaving you no room to move about, no room to do anything other than take his dick. "fuck, please, cheol --"

he withdrew, and then he impaled you with his cock just as quickly. seungcheol moved swiftly, shoving his dick in you without any hesitance. his hips slapped against your ass hard enough to bruise them, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin ringing in your ears.

the pain of his fucking was nothing compared to the pleasure. his thick cock dragged against your walls, the head of it fat enough to hit your core with every strike. you couldn't do anything, powerless against his strength and power.

the warmth in your gut was expanding, the liquidy feel taking over your limbs and rendering them useless. you couldn't do anything, eyes rolling into the back of your head, mouth hanging with moans escaping.

"that's it pretty girl," he groaned. seungcheol moved one of his hands off of the bed, placing it around your throat. he did nothing other than flex his hand against your neck but still the action had you whining, voice going high in your throat.

"fucking sound so good," he breathed, his cock drilling into you at a horrid pace. "fucking taking my cock like a good girl. shit -- your cunt's perfect. so fucking perfect. your perfect fucking eyes, perfect hips and thighs, perfect ass and breasts. perfect -- fucking -- cunt --"

he accentuated each of his words with a well-aimed thrust into your cunt. "fucking -- made for me, all beautiful just for me."

"just --" you gasped, throat working his hand. "just for you."

"say it," he demanded, voice dark and stern. "want you to say it, pretty girl."

you squeezed your eyes shut, but he was immediately squeezing your throat in retaliation. "keep your eyes open, baby. want you to look me in the eyes and say it."

your eyes flew open at his command, mouth gaping. but you obeyed, that thick dick rendering you useless to even think about going against seungcheol. "i'm -- i'm beau -- beautiful --"

"for fucking who," he hissed, mouth in a smirk. "who are you made for, princess?"

"you!" you cried, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. you wanted to cum so badly, wanted that knot in your gut to just snap. "you, cheol! i'm beautiful just for you!"

seungcheol's smirk widened, and then his hand was squeezing against your throat. he held it, fucking into you fluidly, hand heavy on your neck.

"fucking beautiful," he agreed. seungcheol lifted his hand from your throat, and as soon as you were gulping down a lungful of air, you were cumming.

it hit you like a truck, causing your mind to blank and your breath to escape you altogether. you couldn't do anything, your cunt spasming around seungcheol's cock, trying to milk it.

"that's it," he praised you, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm. "that's a good girl."

you whined as soon as you could, chest rapidly heaving to get air back into your lungs. "cheol -- cheol, please --"

"gonna fuck my cum into you, pretty girl," he vowed, dark brows pressed together. "gonna paint your pussy with my spunk."

"please!"

seungcheol pulled out of you, drawing a loud whine from your lips in protest. but then his hands were on your hips, flinging you onto your stomach. he man-handled you, his hand settling on your shoulders and forcing them into the bed, the other hand on your hips and bringing them up and baring your ass.

his dick pierced your cunt again, the action drawing a squeal from your mouth. you couldn't -- your cunt clenched down on his dick in protest, begging for some sort of relief from his ministrations. your mouth refused to close, spit leaking freely from your lips, your tears falling from your cheeks and joining your spit to stain the pillow.

"so much," you moaned, "cheol -- it's so much --"

but then you were driving your hips back onto him, seeking out his dick.

"fuck, baby," he moaned. he placed his hands on your love handles, squeezing the flesh. then he was gripping your hips harshly, enough to leave bruises, using them to snap your body back onto his cock.

"fuckin -- so good, baby -- perfect little pussy, perfect fucking body --" he moved one of his hands from your hip, sliding it down along your back. seungcheol gripped your hair, pulling. "fucking beautiful taking my cock like this, taking it like a good girl, so perfect and beautiful and mine."

you were already sensitive from having cum twice before, so it didn't take but a handful more harsh thrusts before you were squealing, clenching around his dick. fresh tears sprung to your eyes, your shouts muffled by the pillows.

your body went completely lax in seungcheol's hold, your legs giving out. exhaustion struck you, seeping into your body and mind, muddling it all. but seungcheol carried on; he wrapped his arms around your middle, keeping you propped up so he could continue fucking you.

"gonna cum in you," he warned, nails digging into your flesh. "gonna cum and fuck it in, gonna fill you until your little pussy is drowning in my spunk --"

weakly, you clenched around him in response. seungcheol groaned, a loud thing that tore through his throat. you could feel him as he came, could feel the cum fill your cunt. seungcheol continued thrusting into you, using your body to milk his dick.

"what a good girl you are," he praised, hands releasing their severe grip on your hips. seungcheol didn't pull from you, but instead he turned your body so you were facing him. he grinned down at you before he lowered himself, laying his body on top of yours.

you hummed, pleased at the extra weight. you gathered the energy to sink one of your hands into his curls and pull, but other than that you were still, basking in your post-orgasmic state.

seungcheol pressed his face into the valley between your chest. sweat clung to both of your bodies like a second skin, but neither of you paid it any mind. especially not seungcheol as he ran his lips over your breasts, placing sweet little kisses.

"so beautiful," he murmured, eyes flicking up to yours. seungcheol's gaze was soft and sweet, adoration pouring from his very soul. "you're so beautiful, baby. i love you and your body so much. love you, adore you, cherish you. "

and when his mouth continued to travel along your body, mapping it out with his lips, you began to believe him.

#my writing #svthub #scoups #svt #s.coups #s.coups oneshot #s.coups fic #s.coups x reader #scoups fic #scoups oneshot #scoups x reader #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol fic #choi seungcheol oneshot #svt x reader #svt oneshot #svt fic #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen oneshot #seventeen fic

[charlottesuzee]

Stealing Food From His Plate (One Piece Men x Black!GN!Reader)

Monkey D Luffy

- Don't even try. You will get your hand bitten. He's like a starving dog. He'll growl and glare at you. Which is ironic, because he has no problem stealing food off of your plate.

- "Luffy, lemme get a bite of your meat-"

- "ARGHGHGH"

- "BITCH DID YOU JUST BITE ME ?!?"

- "KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF ! YOU HAVE YOUR OWN FOOD !"

- In all honesty, if he'd feel that you were actually hungry and you didn't have your own plate of food, he might give you a bite.

- That's a strong might though.

Roronoa Zoro

- "You just told me that you weren't hungry, now you're pawing at my food."

- "I just want a bite ! Please baby ?"

- "No. Face the actions of your consequences and starve."

- He'll begrudgingly give you some though anyways but will still grumble about you getting your own food next time but he'll still share with you every time.

Vinsmoke Sanji

- "OF COURSE I'LL SHARE WITH YOU, DARLING~!"

- Does not hesitate to let you pick off of his plate, what's his is yours.

- Will insist on feeding you though, as a way to pamper you and act all lovey dovey cutesy wutesy.

- Will ask if you want food off of his plate all the time now, even if you have your own plate.

Eustass Kid

- He's not afraid to smack your hands away from his food and pull his plate away. Just be careful, because you might not know which hand he's gonna smack you with

- "OW ! YOU HIT ME WITH YOUR METAL HAND, DICKHEAD !"

- "SERVES YOU RIGHT FOR TOUCHING MY FOOD, GET YOUR OWN !"

- "NOW MY HAND IS GONNA BRUISE !"

- He will feel bad about bruising your hand though and as an apology, he will push his plate towards you as a peace offering, letting you take whatever you want off of it.

Killer

- Even though he's wearing a mask, the look he gives you radiates "bitch are you fucking serious ?!?"

- "I asked you if you wanted me to heat you up some pasta, you said no, now you're swiping off of my plate."

- "I'm sorry Kill ! I wasn't hungry at first but after seeing your plate, I just wanted a taste !"

- He'll just sigh, push his plate towards you, and go get another plate of pasta for himself to avoid you picking off of his plate.

- You end up feeling a little guilty because of it and offer him food from your plate whenever you have some.

Trafalgar Law

- He'll deadass use his devil fruit to cut your hands off before you touch his food. It's one of his pet peeves, people touching his food without asking. Baby 5 used to do it all the time when they were younger and she had to learn her lesson the hard way too.

- "LAW, WHAT THE FUCK ?!? PUT MY HANDS BACK NOW !!!"

- "Promise you won't pick at my plate without asking again."

- "IT'S NOT THAT SERIOUS DUDE !!"

- But it is that serious to him and he wont put your hands back until you promise you won't swipe off of his plate without asking again. After you promise, he'll put them back and offer you food off of his plate but after seeing your own severed hands, you're not really hungry anymore.

- He's probably scarred you from ever picking off of his plate, and he feels sorta bad about it and does whatever he can to make it up to you after realizing that what he did was really fucking mean.

#black reader #luffy x reader #one piece #one piece x black!reader #one piece x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #blackleg sanji #gender neautral reader #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #killer one piece #killer x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar d law x reader #reader insert

[kkami-writes]

waiting for us — chapter seventeen. screwed over ↝ wc: 566

“Asshole!” 

You yell probably a little too loud but you just don’t care. You’re beyond pissed, gripping your phone tightly and resisting the urge to smash it into the ground. You know realistically that you won’t be fired, you’ll just send a text to Ryujin to let her know you’ll be late. Ryujin has been so nice to you and on occasion you hung out with her and her soulmate Yeji. 

The thing you hated the most was that your brother continued to show you how much power he had over you, never letting you forget it. Even if you had your license there was no car for you to drive, goodness knows your parents weren’t gonna buy you one. 

“Ugh!” You groan, running a frustrated hand through your hair, pulling at the strands. 

“Mio?” You quickly turn around to the source of the voice and you see Jisung. He’s walking towards you with another male behind him. The other guy has big boba-like eyes that are practically staring into your soul and you get the strangest feeling that he’s yet another one of your soulmates. He’s strangely cat like, his eyes blinking slowly at you and you definitely don’t miss the way he gives your form a quick glance.

“Are you okay?” Jisung asks and you pull your gaze away from the other. 

“Yeah sorry- just. My brother seems to have forgotten that he needed to pick me up and now I'm gonna be late to work,” You sigh. “Sorry, I better get going, I’m gonna have to walk,” 

Somehow you’re slightly relieved, able to avoid being in the presence of your soulmates. You could tell that you were already getting slightly attached. What with you listening to 3RACHA all day yesterday and your constant lunch breaks with Hyunjin. 

“Ah wait! We could give you a ride, we were about to head out. That’s fine, right hyung?” Jisung asks the male next to him. The latter simply nods his head, no other emotion showing on his face to give away his thoughts. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother,” You give one last attempt to get away but honestly you really wouldn’t mind that ride, being late to work was definitely one of your pet peeves. 

“Of course! Oh, this is Minho by the way. Minho, Mio. Mio, Minho,” The male in question reaches his hand out for you and you tentatively slip your own hand into his. You pretend you don’t feel the small vibration deep in your chest, quickly taking your hand back as soon as you can. 

“It’s nice to meet you,”

“Yeah, you too. Sorry- I don’t mean to rush but, I really do need to get to work,” 

“Oh right! Come on, let’s go!” Jisung is always bright with his cute heart shaped smile, grabbing onto your hand and pulling you towards their shared car. You don’t have much of a choice but to follow the male who’s all but dragging you. You ignore the fact that your face is probably flushed just from him holding your hand. 

Minho trails a little behind the two of you, seemingly analyzing you, watching how Jisung interacts with you. His head tilts, the smallest hint of a smile curling at his lips. He could definitely understand now his boyfriend's fascination with you, now fully curious to learn more about you.

previous | masterlist | next waiting for us taglist (50/50) send an ask or sign up here!: @abbiestearsricochet @sanriiolino @boo-ven9eance @melleus @adorawritesalot @inlovewithallmusic @alnex05 @borahae-reads @zonked-times @yoonrimin @slay-and-gay @lovelixie @katsukis1wife @realrintaro @0325tiny @adestayskz @minhwa @littleaprilcherryblossom @soobery @lillithathecat @ilychee08 @everglowdaisies @boi-bi-ahaha @yandere-stories @veryjeongintxtkid @minhoie @moondustmemories @popcatx0 @tara-drabbles @super-btstrash-posts @gemi-moon @skz-streamer @jaiuneamesolitaiire @bozotwt @enchantedgrunge @maskedmochii @corrodedthorn @143lix @ashitshowforalot @xrvrqs @lynlyndoll @txtandroll @kawennote09 @liknws @ritzy-dream-boy @hannieslove @hello-2-u-from-me @vampcharxter @jisuperboard @hannahhbahng

[maybankswhore]

Hi, could you possibly write a fic about rafe/jj looking after the reader when they’re on their period? I’m on my period rn and I’m cramping so bad 😭😭

𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

pairing(s): jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: you get your period and jj makes it his mission to make it as easy as possible.

You’re biggest pet peeve was being on your period. For some reason , you’d always get the worst of it. Especially the first two days.

You bled the heaviest , cramped the hardest. The whole day was just absolutely exhausting and no matter how much pain medication you took , you’d almost always end up free bleeding on the toilet for hours at a time hoping to pass the time.

Starting your period the morning you and the rest of the Pogue’s were supposed to go out surfing made your mood even worse. You had gotten a new swim suit for the day and everthing and now you had to cancel. You had texted Kiara telling her to let John B and Pope know you weren’t coming , her obviously understanding the situation. You also knew JJ would be disappointed because he wanted to start helping you learn how to surf— beings that all you did on surfing days was tan because you didn’t know how.

Finding a comfortable position in your bed , you pulled out your phone and pressed JJ’s contact. It didn’t take more than two or three rings for him to answer. “Hi , baby! Sorry I’m running late. Pope was being a shit head and wouldn’t leave work.”

You smiled lightly at Pope’s disagreement in the background.

“No , J that’s okay. I’m not feeling too good today so I’m gonna stay home.”

“Not feeling good? Are you okay? You sick? Want me to come over and bring you to the doctor?” You could hear the concern in his voice , picturing him furrowing his eyebrows at you. It made you grin a bit , hearing him so worried about you.

“I’m not sick. I started my period and you know how that goes. I’m grouchy and sad.”

“Okay so I don’t need to bring you to the doctor but I’m still coming over.”

You rolled your eyes. “JJ! You’ve been so excited to get the Pogue’s together for this. Don’t skip out just ’cus of me. I’ll be fine , I deal with it every month.”

“Sure but we can get together some other day. I’ll see you soon , baby!” He said , hanging up the phone before you even had time to open your mouth and argue.

You sighed and put your phone down , snuggling up into your comforter.

You didn’t realize you had fallen asleep until you were woken up by JJ knocking on your bedroom door , lightly saying your name. Stirring , you groaned when the pain almost immediately hit you— feeling swollen and achey.

“Sorry to wake you.” JJ frowned at himself , placing the plastic bag down on your nightstand and immediately attaching himself to your side. He knelt on the side of the bed you were on , brushing hair away from your face. He sighed at your pale complexion and tired eyes , obviously seeing the affects it was having on you. It came every month and JJ knew it was normal , it still didn’t stop him from feeling bad and worrying about you each time. “Wanna take a bath? I’ll make it extra hot.”

You grabbed his hand that was now cupping your cheek and kissed the palm tiredly , nodding. “Thanks , J.”

He was always so catering to you , on the whim , on his knees at your beck an call. It didn’t matter how much you would stomp your feet and demand him to go about worry about something else— JJ was always all about you , all of the time. And the week of your period he was extra caring and compassionate towards you. Whether he’d simply watch a sad movie with you so you could cry and let all of your emotions out , or watch a show that’d get you all riled up and heated ( secretly giggling at your angry face ) , he did it all and you appreciated it with your whole heart.

JJ pressed a soft kiss to your head as he went to run the water for you as you managed to stand yourself up and find some fresh comfortable clothes to change into , hoping to ease some of that ickness you felt.

As you went into the bathroom , JJ was sitting on the toilet seat waiting for you. His hand checking the water every couple seconds to make sure it was just right. His eyes softened as he looked at you. “I got some pads from the store. Figured you can wear them at home. I heard tampons could give you like. . . electric shock or something if you use ’em too long so I don’t want you risking it.” He proposed , motioning towards the box on the counter.

You giggled as you undressed , feeling comfortable to take your time and not rush , knowing that right now— JJ found you beautiful and all , even if you felt like you were the most bloated and disgusting creature. The look in his eyes said it all.

Sighing contently as you sinked into the bath , your eyes fluttered closed allowing the warmth to soothe your achey muscles. “You know it isn’t electric shock and that only happens if you wear it too long.” You hummed , peeking at JJ through slotted eyes.

“What happens if you fall asleep with it? Or you forget about it?” JJ listed off. “I think you should just wear those when we go to John B’s or something.”

You rolled your eyes at his over protectiveness , but you secretly loved it. Your left hand reached out to his that rested on his leg and held it tightly , rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. “Thanks for coming over. I know you were really looking forward to going surfing with everyone.”

JJ smiled at you sweetly , lifting your hand up to kiss your palm. “You’re more important.”

Lulling your head to the side , you just stared at him as he patiently waited for you. You couldn’t believe how lucky you got to have someone like JJ. He was always so caring and compassionate , giving you anything you ever needed. He supported you , encouraged you to do the things you loved and to take chances you normally wouldn’t. He’d sit on a ceramic toilet for days on end if it meant he got to spend time with you. “I really , really love you.”

“I really , really love you , my sweet girl. Once you’re finished we can go back and lay down. I have all of your favorite things and Kiara had some medicine she gave me to give to you.”

“We’re watching Taylor’s documentary on Netflix!” You clapped , rushing to bathe yourself now , excited to munch on all your favorite snacks.

JJ groaned. “That’s the third time this week.”

“Okay? Third time’s a charm!”

#jj maybank #jj obx #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagines #outer banks headcanons #outer banks #jj maybank fanfiction #jj x y/n #jj maybank x y/n

[whatwouldsylwrite]

At least I got you in my head (1)

prologue

Summary: Abby is straight. And then you move in with her.

Tags: modern au, fem!reader, straight!abby (she is doing some comphet bullshit), pining, idiot in love and it's abby, reader is gay and tired.

Notes: take a shot every time Abby experiences ~gay~

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It all had started when Abby’s nice, perfect, amazing roommate decided to get married at the ripe age of 21 - which Abby didn’t understand at all, but she got invited to the wedding, so she kept her mouth shut about it. Except the marriage meant that her nice, perfect, amazing roommate would move out and go live her dream life with her sweetheart. And although the money wasn’t really a problem - Abby’s dad was a neurosurgeon, which meant he was loaded and Abby didn’t have to worry about anything financially - Abby really didn’t want to bother her dad and spend his money on the whole apartment when she could find a roommate. 

That was how Abby ended up with you as her new nice, perfect, amazing roommate. She didn't even care that the first thing you said to her was that you were a lesbian - which she didn't mind at all, 70 percent of her teammates were not straight, she was used to it, even though she was straight. But after Abby gave herself time to think about it, she understood why you said it right away - not all people were nice, and not all people were okay with living with someone who potentially could be attracted to them. 

Abby was absolutely cool with it.

What she actually cared about was if you left your dishes in the sink, and you didn’t. 

The first week living together was what Abby expected it to be: you both were getting used to your respective schedules, your habits and pet peeves, not talking much - Abby wasn’t sure if you even wanted to be her friend or you’d prefer to just stay as roommates who saw each other twice a day for five minutes. The most you spoke to her was to ask where something was or if it was okay to use something and where you could put all your things. 

Abby thought you were chill and confident with the way you carried yourself - it reminded her of some of her teammates, who were confident in a way girls were not expected to be confident. More like dominant? And they had nothing in common with you. Well, except for the gay thing. Abby wasn’t sure if there was a correlation. 

You both weren't at home a lot, but usually when Abby'd get from practice you'd be already at home and just out of the shower. Abby felt a little awkward when she saw you in a short towel and she tried not to look at you or anywhere dangerous. You didn't seem to notice how she only looked into your eyes when you walked from the bathroom to your room, water running down your neck and your thighs as you said your hellos. Abby didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with her, because she showered with 20 girls on regular basis and it didn’t make sense that she felt the need to look away from you, but who had time to reflect on it? Not Abby.

Abby would hit the shower next and come back to the smell of food in the kitchen - you told her on the first night that you didn't mind sharing your food with her or even cooking for both of you, and Abby quickly agreed to your offer. 

That was a first ritual you two established: Abby'd come home, take a shower and then hang out with you in the kitchen while you were cooking dinner. Today you looked a little tired, and Abby got it - it was Friday and the whole week was hard for both of you with getting back into studying mode. 

“How are you on this god-awful day?” You asked Abby with a small smile while you fried something on the pan. 

“Happy it’s the end of the week.” Abby sighed and leaned back on her chair, relaxing. “Profs are already talking about the finals, so annoying. We just had one class, calm the fuck down.” 

“Yeah. It’s bad for you med students.” You said with no actual compassion, but with a smile. “Sorry, I’m going to remind you that this misery is your choice every time when you’ll be on the brink of death during finals.”

Abby laughed at that.

“Unfortunately for you I’m not the one to complain about my choices.” Abby shot back and you laughed. 

“That’s admirable.” You nodded your head in theatrical appreciation. “Then you can make fun of me during finals because I will be complaining about every little thing. In a funny way, don’t worry.”

“Thanks for clarification.” Abby chuckled. 

“Do you want to watch something after we eat?” You asked casually and Abby felt her heart beating faster - you wanted to be friends with her after all!

"Yeah, sure."

You smiled at Abby and turned the stove off, taking the plates from the cabinet to put your food on. Abby was cool. She was sweet, a little of a scaredy cat with you - you didn’t think anything of it, you just met, maybe she was just awkward with new people. Abby looked confident with her friends and when you saw her in the corridors of your university Abby looked downright intimidating, tall and strong, commanding. At home though? She seemed shy. You supposed she'd get more assertive when she'd get comfortable with you, but even now she seemed like a genuinely cool person. 

You were still dealing with how attractive Abby was, your eyes always lingered on her shoulders and arms - you had a thing for athletes, what can you say - but you tried to suppress it as best as possible. The fact that Abby was so sweet around you didn't really help either, but what we can’t act upon makes us better at repressing, so that was what you were doing for the past week. The best strategy you had was to remind yourself Abby was straight, and it was working, especially if she gave you compliments the way only straight girls did, with this high tone at the end - if Abby wasn’t that buff she’d probably ask where did you get something just to finish you. Thank god you had a very different taste in clothes.

You finished your dinner making a small talk, still getting used to each other's mannerisms and sense of humour, with yours being more dark. Abby was surprisingly good at keeping up with you and not stuttering in shock when you’d say something awful, and it made you smile every time she'd make a comeback that was just as good. Again, it wasn't helping. 

"What do you want to watch?"

"I like horrors, actually." You said as you sat on the other side of the couch, keeping the distance. 

"Yeah, we can watch some horror." Abby shrugged as she sat down and gave you the blanket. "More cosy that way."

You smiled and put it over your lap.

Not. Fucking. Helping. 

Abby watched you getting comfortable and something filled her chest with pride, like providing comfort for you was something important to her. Well, Ellie always said Abby was a mom friend, and she was. She liked taking care of people around her, and now that you were her roommate she'd take care of you too. 

"Do you like horrors too or do you want me to hold your hand during scary moments?" You asked with a smirk, and Abby huffed. 

"Are you trying to trick me into holding your hand?" Abby smirked too, pleased with your little surprised reaction. 

"I'm more of a cuddler." You winked and Abby laughed. She liked how easy it was to banter with you even though you knew each other only for a week. "No, really, are you okay with horror? I don't want you to have nightmares after."

"I'm okay, don't worry." Abby murmured and gave you the remote. "I'm not a big fan, so you choose."

You shrugged and went through the list of horror movies while Abby got comfortable on the other end of the couch, leaning on the arm rest. It felt a little awkward, to be that far away from you - Abby was so used to always being close with her girl friends, but to be fair, you weren’t even friends yet. The movie you picked wasn’t a slasher (“i want to be scared, not grossed out”), but more of a psychological horror that actually made Abby uneasy. And then this movie had a fucking jumpscare that made you both jump and curse out loud. Abby let out a small chuckle and you shared a look between you, silently bonding over a scary feeling. 

“You sure you don’t want to hold my hand?” You teased and Abby rolled her eyes at you, but her heart was still beating too fast from the sudden scare. 

“I’m not a little bitch.” Abby said and smiled when you laughed. 

“Okay, big bad Abby.” You murmured and focused on the movie.

Even though the movie was unsettling, your little bitchy comments were making Abby laugh way more than feeling scared. 

"Do you really enjoy getting scared or are you just choosing something to complain about?" Abby asked with a smile. 

"Horror movies are like straight sex, you know. In theory you get scared shitless, in practice you complain about men not knowing how to scare you." You shrugged and Abby snorted, feeling like this was too real. "Sorry if I'm being crude, I got too comfortable for a second there."

Abby noticed your look, like you were trying to read her reaction if you crossed a line, but Abby only laughed. 

"Do I look like someone who can't take a sex joke?" Abby teased as she stood up, stretching. 

"Should I assume you're tough as fuck because you kick ass?"

"Yeah, you should." Abby murmured and looked in your eyes. There was a second of silence while you just stared back at her, surprised, and Abby felt something warm in her stomach. "Tea?"

"Yeah." 

After that movie night things got so much easier for both of you, and after three weeks of living together you already fell into the routine like you lived for three years already. You became friends very fast, quickly moving from spending evenings in your rooms to spending evenings hanging out in the living room together. It was like you just clicked in all the right places, balancing each other out, and you couldn’t feel more relieved. You were getting used to Abby and your first intense attraction finally ebbed away: you were not going to chase after a straight girl - you were not, in fact, an idiot. And you weren’t going to question her sexuality or try to “turn her gay”, because who were you to tell her who she was? Abby told her she was straight, and that was it. You still enjoyed looking at her and flirting with her, and Abby was an amazing person so it wasn’t hard to like her. But otherwise? Abby was an amazing roommate and even better friend. 

The end of September came around so quickly you didn’t even notice, too busy with classes and tutoring and maintaining some kind of social life, because Cait really needed someone to drag her out from the fucking library and ventilate her big brain. You admired her study habits, but sometimes she’d forget to sleep, and you had to kick her ass and make her take care of herself. That was the price of being friends with the smartest woman on campus.

It was again a Friday night when you cooked and Abby sat at the table while you chatted about your days and plans, now so much more comfortable with each other. You were right, Abby just needed to get used to you in order to stop being so shy and you basked in her confident personality now. 

“Do you have any plans for tomorrow?”

“I don’t kno-o-w.” Abby sighed like tomorrow's plans were torturing her. “Ellie wants to go out, but I don’t know if I’m in the mood.”

“Well, I plan to go out too, actually. Maybe we can join forces?” You asked curiously. “I feel like Cait would enjoy Ellie’s company if she is the nerd you’re saying she is.”

“She is an embarrassment.” Abby shrugged and you laughed. “I’m still shocked how she has any game at all.”

“Listen. Is she hot?”

“I guess?”

“Then there you go. She has game because she is hot.”

“That’s kinda shallow.”

“Do you really need to get to know someone better to hook up?” You scrunched your nose in doubt. 

“I mean, some people do.” 

“Then it’s not a hookup anymore, no? I mean, if I just want to get some stress relief do I really have mental space to learn about someone’s political views?”

“So you’ve fucked republicans.” Abby nodded and you laughed. “That’s fucked up, (y/n).”

“You see, that’s what I’m saying. I don’t know and I don’t want to know. Obviously you won’t miss the fact that they’re an asshole, so if it’s not the case, why not? Dating is a different story though.” 

“Yeah.” Abby nodded again. 

“So are we going out tomorrow?” 

“Well, when I’m attacked on two fronts I don’t feel like I have a choice.” Abby chuckled the way it made you hot, but yet again you pushed the stupid feeling down. 

Abby watched you cook as she was digesting what you’ve just discussed. It was the first time you acknowledged your sex life and Abby felt a little uneasy. Sex talk didn’t make her uncomfortable, and other people’s experience didn’t make her feel insecure, so she really couldn’t place why she felt just a little icky. Maybe your crudeness finally crossed her line? But Abby wasn’t sensitive to such topics, Ellie talked her ear off with her sex escapades, so why did she feel so strange? Her stomach growled and suddenly everything made sense: she was just in a low, sensitive mood because she was hungry and tired. 

And indeed her mood got better after she took the first fork filled with pasta and her stomach was now growling in happiness. 

“There’s a whole whale living in your stomach.” You smirked, but your stomach growled too and Abby snorted.

“Seems like you had one too.”

“Whale to whale communication.” You shrugged and Abby chuckled. “Have you ever listened to whale songs?”

“No. But I heard they’re supposed to help you relax.” 

“Well you’re listening to one now, so you tell me if you’re relaxed.”

“Oh I’m so relaxed I’d listen to the sound of not being hungry for hours.” Abby said and watched you roll your eyes fondly, because you looked so funny when you did it and Abby liked it. Abby’s phone buzzed with a notification and she unlocked it, but the clock caught her eye. “It’s almost 8, don’t you have a lesson?”

You looked up with saucers of the eyes and Abby laughed at how shocked and scared you got.

“Fuck!” You said with a mouth full of food as you jumped out of your chair while Abby laughed at you. “Fuck, how much time do I have?”

“Three minutes.”

“Shit. Fuck, can I ask you to sort this out?” You nodded at the food on the stove and at your plate. “Sorry.”

“You’re fine, don’t worry.” Abby said gently, trying to soothe you. “Go teach poor kids.”

You nodded and ran to your room to get yourself set up, and Abby finished her dinner while texting Ellie. 

from: els

soooo

are we going out tomorrow ?

to: els

you r so annoying 

but yes

(y/n) wants us to go together, she is going out with a friend too 

from: els

oooh

coooool

you mean I’ll meet the smart sexy lady you live with?

Abby rolled her eyes - she mentioned once that you were smart and she was learning some things from you and Ellie couldn’t leave her alone after that.

to: els

yeah 

but don’t be a dick to her

from: els

excuse me

I would never be a dick to a lady

to: els

you’re a dick to me all the time

from: els

who said you were a lady 

The audacity of this bitch, Abby thought as she sent Ellie a not so sweet sticker. She finished her dinner while bickering with Ellie and then tidied the kitchen. Your lessons were usually around an hour, so Abby didn’t need to hurry. She washed the dishes and put leftovers away. Abby thought it was so nice of you to cook for both of them, it was warming her heart - she didn’t like cooking, and having someone to take it off her was so amazing. God if you weren’t busy she’d hug you right now, she was so grateful.

But Abby settled for setting up her favourite part of Friday nights: beating your ass in Mortal Combat. What can she say, seeing you riled up but helpless against her, cursing her but unable to win anyway - fuck, Abby loved it. Now she'd just need to wait for you.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby tlou #aligyimh

[sssilverstoned]

while you can still smell them ꩜ ln4

type: full length fic

word count: 3.9k

title from: i wish you roses by kali uchis

warnings: some fluff, angst, but like it's a happy ending. cursing bc i'm me, italics are memories

lily said: you know me i can never leave well enough alone. i thought this little snapshot of the break that was never really a break would be cute! for context, i'd suggest looking at the ig au linked below! this would be taking place in between part 2 and 3.

part 1

part 2

part 3

masterlist

You've only seen Lando cry on occasions that called for it. When family members died, when racing got too much for his mental, in some awful, awful moments. Maybe that's why it hurts so bad to see him cry now.

"A break feels a lot like you should add 'up' to that statement," he had said, turning away from you, looking out at the stars. You were sat on his balcony, feeling suffocated by the apartment. But the AC was on and working fine, and windows were open. Your emotions were suffocating you, that was more fitting.

"We can't keep on like this, Lan," you say in a broken voice, the lump in your throat thick and threatening. "It's not fair to either of us."

He doesn't realize he's crying until the drop hits his nose, making it quirk up in surprise. He swipes at his face, a pawlike move to get rid of the teardrops.

"Do you not love me anymore?"

His question makes you sob. Full body, head dropping to chest, your hands writing in your lap. The sound of you breaking down turns him back to you, rushing to the chair you've melted into. He lifts your face in his hands, and you take a breath when you see his face, discolored with tears.

"I'll always love you," he makes out of your words, just barely. "I, I just, it's not the same,"

"We can fix this, us. We can work on it together," Lando's brain is whirring at hyper speed, damage controlling the last 8 months of your lives together.

The cracks began to become schisms when he committed your largest pet peeve, which was ignoring things out of ease. Blissful ignorance, if you will.

It was small things, like forgetting about date nights in lieu of longer trainings or prolonging trips. Sometimes he forgot to water the plants, or didn't move laundry over, and that was manageable. That's what every couple encounters. What every couple does not encounter, was the intense pressure of racing a car for a living.

He was frustrated, with Zak, with anything papaya colored, and with his own self-doubts. He carried that frustration in his chest, and it came out in some of the words he spoke to you, and actions he took. You eventually stopped offering to come over and cook, because dinners were becoming continuously tense, and you were uncomfortable. Felt like a nuisance.

But at the same time, you were both so codependent. Without anything being said, you two began to avoid things you assumed the other wouldn't like, and asked for permission to do the smallest of things. You first noticed it when your sister pointed had asked you to come go with her out of town for the weekend, and you hesitated. "I'll have to ask Lando," you had told her. She bit her tongue.

Lando was just as bad, he had quite literally lost the ability to sleep when you weren't around. It made Grand Prix weekends an actual nightmare when you weren't there, calling you at any times in the day or night.

"Are you alright, it's 4am,"

"Sorry, can't sleep again. The melatonin does nothing,"

"Did you try the tea my mum got you?"

"Baby I just," he scrubs a hand down his exhausted face. "I just need you here."

"I can't just get up and go to Australia."

"I'll get you a flight, or maybe we can-"

"Lando," you say in a sterner voice. "I can't."

He's quiet for a moment, and you wonder what's going through his head. You hardly raised your voice or got intense, certainly never at him. But then again, recently, you seemed to never know what was going through his head.

It was silly to think that Lando was the same man that you began dating. You were 19, you would pray that he had changed somehow over the span of 5 years. But there was something missing that once was. The relationship was becoming more of a task, and that wasn't right. Which is what brought you to this moment, brought you to telling him you needed to talk.

"Lan," you whimper, bringing a hand up where his hold your face on either side. You don't even have to say anything more, he knows you better than you know yourself. And he begins to cry harder.

"I've never loved anyone but you, baby."

"I know."

"I can't, I really don't want to live without you," he shakes his head, standing back up to his full height. His hands stay busy, though, ripping through his hair.

"I'm not going to go away," you explain, agonized that you're calmer than he at this point. You stand from the wicker chair, but don't edge closer to him. "But my career is unpredictable right now, 6 months in Marbella is a long time. And you're, well, everywhere. And you need to focus on that."

"I've multitasked for 5 years," he says bitterly, making you sigh. His eyes are back on the stars, and his back to you makes your eyes blurry again.

"I'm not happy." You finally blurt, making his body stiffen. "I'm really not."

When he looks at you again, his expression reads clearly with fatigue, with anguish. "Please, baby, don't,"

It's your turn to clutch his face, bringing his forehead to touch with yours. Through your contact, you feel the heaves of his body, the breaths he's trying to control. "It's not forever," you whisper, mustering courage. "But we need to stop acting like everything's fine."

"I don't see myself without you."

"You're not," your hold tightens, he leans further into your palm, "but we've grown up together. The flower pot's too small now," you try to joke, he barely can fake amusement.

"I'll buy a thousand new pots."

"We need to clean up the broken one, first." His jaw clenches, you soothe it with your thumb. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He says back, almost silently. "Still wear that Mclaren shirt on race days, I need the luck."

You finally crack a smile. "I'll wear the hat too if my hairstyle permits."

He kisses you, almost convincing himself this if is the last fix he can get for a while, he needed it now. Not that either of you know it, but you both have the same thought. You both notice that your cheeks have each other's tears on them now, not sure which ones came from whom. You were on the same page in that regard, at least.

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

"You should ask y/n out," your best friend says to Lando in the middle of a party. He chokes on his drink, not expecting her to come up to him like she did, and not expecting the words out her mouth.

You all were freshly 19, still congregating in someone's living room to try to have a good time. He knew your friends better than he knew you, the newest of the group in town, only having moved to the area with your family when you were 16.

"Should I, now?" He says, recovering from his fright.

"Yeah," she replies, ignoring the sarcasm. "She goes on about you, it's cute. She'd hurt me if she knew I told you, though. Not sure what she sees in you," his eyes narrow at the girl, which she ignores once again. "You'd be lucky to have a girl like her in your life."

That much, he knew. You were fiercely loyal to your friends and family, and treated him with a kindness that made him melt every time. You were funny, and genuine, and not to mention, the most beautiful person he's sure he knows.

When he bumps into you later at the party, he asks you what you're doing the following evening.

That was the story he'd tell people with a proud grin when they ask how you two got together. All you recount is how he nearly ruined your cute top with a shitty guinness.

He's struck with the memory when he sees the guinness logo in the ads on the walls of a restaurant. "Mate," Max all but snaps his fingers. Lando locks back in, humming for what he missed.

"Was just curious if you wanted to go out tonight. They've been texting in the chat about it, I saw you never responded."

Clubbing wasn't as fun as it used to be, not when you weren't dancing your heart out beside him, or waiting in bed with your nose in a book when he came home because you weren't feeling like going out. It felt like a waste of his time, and like he was sucking the fun out of other people's nights.

"'M alright," he says with a tight mouthed grin. "Gonna sit this one out."

Max looks at his friend, seeing through his response. "When's the last time you went out?"

If he had to take an educated guess, you last graced his apartment that night on the balcony, 4 weeks ago. So, 4 weeks ago. Perhaps longer, judging by the schisms. "A while. Not up to it."

"You're torturing yourself."

"I'm not interested in getting shitfaced, Max."

Max looks away for a second, quickly weighing the pros and cons of asking what he's been wanting to for the last, well, 4 weeks. "Do you think Y/n is wallowing too?"

The sound of your name makes his fingers twitch inadvertently, almost like a flinch. "That's not fair."

"I'm serious, Lando. You said she needed a break because she felt like you two were co-dependent and not actually working through problems, and look at you. You're not functioning without her. I mean, it's your fucking birthday next week, and you haven't brought it up once, you realize that, right?"

He knows he's right. Nothing he said was out of line, or wrong, and that's why Lando has nothing to say back. He wants to argue, to prove him wrong, but he can't. He's seen your ads and campaigns, the beautiful shots of you promoting luxury brands and names that your fans only dreamed of owning. Despite the distance, he was so proud of you still. You worked hard, were disciplined and humble through your success. He had texted you when the Dior campaign had launched, and the message of your thanks, with a smiley face, made him, for just a second, think that things were back to normal.

When they left the restaurant, and ran directly into fans, Lando tried to put on his best face for them, smiling for selfies and signing what was gestured toward him. When a sweet looking girl with glasses shyly spoke up, telling her favorite driver where she was visiting from, his tired eyes light up. "You're from there?" He confirms, and she smiles with an eager nod.

"Y/n is too," he almost mumbles, but every fan in earshot heard it. The typical squeals followed, the hushed whispers amonst themselves on if they'd push the questions they were itching to ask or not. And heard it they did, as the encounter made its way onto social media and gossip pages. But Max was right, his mourning period needed to be over, if anything was going to change for the better.

You call him on his birthday. It was nerve wracking, which made you bitterly laugh, because never did you think you'd be nervous to talk to Lando Norris of all people. One of the few people in the world you wholeheartedly trusted.

It had only been about a month since you requested time apart, and he had honored that. The texts were sparse, the calls nonexistent. Although, that was sort of what had brought you to this point anyway. But you were working on yourself, and your career at the same time, and things were looking better. Change never happened overnight, but the journal your therapist recommended, and the disappearance from social media besides professional posts were great starts.

You bite at your cuticle as the phone rings. You take your cell away from your ear, chest panging at the contact name "Lan <3" at the top of the screen. Was he really going to screen your call? Is that what you deserved, possibly?

"Y/n," he finally answers, and you quickly bring your phone back to your ear.

"Hi," you say awkwardly. "Happy birthday, Lando."

"Thank you," he says stiffly. "I'm happy to hear from you."

"Yeah I um, haven't really been on my phone here," you bite harder on your finger. "I think it's nice here, you'd love Marbella."

"I'm sure I would," he says with what you can hear is a smile. "I miss you, you know?"

"I miss you too," you concede, "how have you been?"

"Not great, I won't lie. Much rather would hear about you."

"'s not my birthday," and he smiles a bit at that.

"Well, racing's fine. But Max is sick of my shit, says I've been wallowing."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Yeah."

You don't really know what to say, you've rarely been the perpetrator of his negative feelings. No relationship was perfect, but you all hadn't really hit a communication wall until now. It was uncharted, scary territory. "Well, I wanted to wish you a happy birthday, that was all. Have a good day, really. 24 is a big one. Kobe year, that's what someone said to me. I hope this year is great for you."

"Y/n, wait," he halts your beginnings to hang up. "I'd like to come to see you soon, I've got some time before Abu Dhabi and maybe I could swing by Spain on the way."

"Lando," he absolutely hates that you're calling him by his whole name. Lan, that's what would you called him almost exclusively. Lando feels so formal from you.

He needs to hear it, you know he does. He needs to hear that you want to see him, that you need to see him just as much as he yearns to put eyes on you once more. But you were constantly afraid of accidental manipulation, holding him by some invisbile garotte. But this was his first birthday you hadn't celebrated together since you were 19, that meant something.

"Please focus on racing," you implore, and squeeze your eyes shut before adding, "but you if you'd like to come and it won't be an issue in your plans, you're more than welcome."

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

You saw the posts, it wasn't very hard. Fans utterly disappointed that you and Lando hadn't been seen together in ages, putting pieces together quickly after you didn't post for his birthday. It didn't make you feel worse, to be truthful, and to your surprise. You were sure there'd be a barrage of insults hurled your way, maybe a cheating rumor or two. But really, all there was to see were requiems for your relationship, nostalgia for what once was. What did cause you to delete instagram from your phone, was the response to the podcast.

You were single for the time being, that's what you and Lando had agreed on when he visited you. It wasn't an invitation to go out and find the next man to lay in your bed, but you both had agreed that it wasn't healthy to hold out in anticipation of your rekindling.

"You're the only girl I've, you know," he awkwardly trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. He sits up in bed, linens pooling around his hips. Hooking up with your now ex-boyfriend, might've not been your brightest idea, sure, but you were both human, at the end of the day.

"Fucked?" you tease, remaining comfortable against your plush pillow. "I know. First few times kinda showed that."

He looks back at you pointedly. "You cried the first time."

"It hurt!"

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head in fake annoyance. You grin. "I'm sure the girlies are gonna have a field day with you being single now,"

He rolls his eyes again, laying, or rathing slumping, back into the pillow next to you. His arm instinctively comes around the top of your head, you try not to lean into it. "I think I really will finally listen to you and focus on racing."

You turn on your side, admiring his profile as he stares up at the ceiling, probably tangled in his thoughts. His nose sloped perfectly, the little freckles dotting his skin like constellations. Your boy.

"I told my mum."

He snorts. "She hates me now, I'm sure."

"Mm, no, her first ask was what I did," your mom was Lando's biggest fan, through and through. Of course, you were her daughter, but she was convinced he was cosmically made perfectly for you.

He looks at you then, realizing your eyes have been on him the whole time. He copies your position, turning to you so your bodies lay parallel, nowhere to look but each other's eyes.

"Do you regret that I'm the only boyfriend you've ever had?"

You immediately shake your head in denial of the question. "No, not at all," you were lucky, if anything. "You?"

"Well, I've had other girlfriends,"

"Ouch?"

"You knew that," he chuckles, and yeah, you did. "But I don't regret that you're the only one I've been serious about. I still am."

"I know. I am too."

"An ex-boyfriend doesn't lay in bed with you, you know."

"And an ex-girlfriend doesn't still remind your team when your doctor's appointments are,"

"Fair enough, guess we're just weird."

You share a matching grin. "So weird."

So once Alex uploaded the Call Her Daddy episode you were a guest on, and it was official to the masses that you had been single for now almost 4 months, the articles came in. The timelines of you and Lando's relationship, the rumors of him leaving clubs with random girls. You'd be lying if you said you didn't zoom in on some of their faces, relaxing when you recongized most of them as friends or even family members. He wasn't yours to be worried about, you suppose, but you also knew that any girl he decided to share his time with would be a lucky one.

Your friends had tried to get you on dates, that wasn't a lie when you said that on the podcast. But you weren't ever excited to get to know someone new, small talk was painful and you didn't feel comfortable going home with them.

But then, a few weeks later into February, you get a phone call from Lando. "Hi," You answer, pleasently surprised.

"Hey there," he says, sounding slightly out of breath. "How are you?"

"I'm good, great even. Finished up everything down here, leaving Marbella next week to head back home." Home was London to you, not Monaco. You constantly visited, had a family flat there and everything, but couldn't leave officially becuause of your career.

"Congratulations, everything looked stunning," he compliments, and your stomach flutters.

"But um, how are you? I'd ask if you were relaxing, but I'm sure training's well underway."

"Meh, more or less. I'm heading to Surrey next week, actually. Got some stuff to do at HQ."

"Oh," Surrey was only about an hour and a half from where you were in London. "Would you, well, not assuming anything, but if you'd have time to spare, it would be great to catch up?"

This isn't why Lando called you, you fully know this. Who knows what he picked up the phone for, he could be calling to let you know he's eloped with someone he's met in the 6 months you've been apart.

"I'd love to," you hear his grin in his voice. "You haven't moved, have you?"

Not only had you not moved, but you haven't changed much about your flat either. Same bedding, same color schemes, same photos decorating your tables and walls of your friends, family, and Lando. He never took the photos of you down either, and that photo from your 21st birthday was still stuffed in his wallet.

You order takeout, sitting across the kitchen island from each other acting like it didn't feel like your first date again. He acts like he doesn't want to reach out for your hands as you animatedly use them to share stories of Spain, and you act like you don't want to push the curls back that threathen to land over his eyebrows.

The food gets cold as you two catch up, a few glasses of wine becoming a whole bottle gone. You actually can't remember the last time the two of you had done this, and perhaps, absence had truly made your hearts grow fonder.

"Bahrain is on leap day," Lando says, making you gasp.

"That's got to be good luck, no?"

"It's just the first practice,"

"But still, you're starting your first weekend of the year on a special day like that," you muse, "so exciting. I'm excited for you,"

His chest warms at endearment in your voice. You truly and honestly rooted for him through everything, that was one of the things he was most grateful for about you. He knows you don't truly care about all of this, if he won or lost, but that you care about him and his development, how he sees himself and his profession. He fell in love with that about you.

"Would you come?"

You hesitate, daring to look at him from where you had begun to clean the countertop. "To the race? "

He nods, and turn back to the counter. "I don't know, Lan. Is that where we are?"

He hopes so. He's missed you something horrible, prays you missed him just as bad.

Lando takes the cloth from your hand, replacing it with his own. "I know it's only been about 6 months, and that's not enough time to say everything's well and dandy," you fight a smile. "But I want to work through things, with you. I've had nothing but time to consider what was off with us, and I want to be better. For you, more than anything. Yeah, I learned how to be just Lando. But I know I prefer being Lando and Y/n."

You bite your lip, finally meeting his eyes. "I want to take it slow."

"We can do that,"

"So, I don't know if I'm ready for the race. But, my birthday's coming up,"

"It is,"

"And we'll be in Dubai. My sister did it up, got this crazy plan going since it'll be my 25th."

"Quite the old woman you're becoming,"

"Oh get off that," you scoff, pushing his chest. He chuckles and pulls you back into him, where you go willingly. "But, if you can, I'd love for you to come to the dinner."

He raises an eyebrow with a smirk. "You want me to fly to Dubai just for your birthday dinner?"

"You'll be in Saudi Arabia then anyway,"

The smirk gets bigger. "You know my schedule already, love?"

"You're so fucking cheeky, can't stand it," you feign annoyance, but never move from his arms.

He holds you, as your arms delicately find themselves behind his neck, not daring to kiss just yet. To really be honest, you're not sure if you're ready to take that whole plunge.

"I'm happy to be back, even if things are slow. They can be molasses for all I care."

"Thank you for being patient with me," you lean your forehead against his. However, this time, neither of you are crying. Nice, for a change.

"I'd wait decades for you, my love."

After a beat of sweet silence. You speak up once more. "One thing though," he hums to prompt your continuance. "I'm pretty sure, when it's said, it's Y/n and Lando, just so you know."

#is this me projecting? yeah #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader

[babydollmarauders]

KIDS — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

FAITHLYNN’S 500 CELLY!

🌷: “They’re not your kids, back the f*ck off.” & “That was kind of hot.” & “How is my wife more badass than me?” with Jack.

warnings: toxic mother (readers mom), profanity

as a mom, one of my biggest pet peeves is when someone else tries to parent my children. it happens most often with my own mother. she and i never had a great relationship, and i thought it may get better now that i have my own kids, but i was wrong, it’s only gotten worse.

she makes passive aggressive comments about Jack and i’s parenting choices, tries to undermine my decisions, and has even completely disregarded my words completely. but the real cherry on top is what’s happening right now.

Jack just got back from a roadie, and he was spending time with the kids when my mom showed up at our house. when i asked her what she was doing here, she said that she ‘thought i might need some help with the kids while Jack slept’. which rubbed me the wrong way because first of all, she knows he always sleeps on the plane so that he can play with Eli and Luella when he gets home; and second of all, she acts as if i don’t take care of my children all on my own the entire time he’s traveling.

“mom, what the hell?” i stage whisper, standing across from her in the kitchen. i glance out the kitchen doorway towards the living room, where Jack lays on the floor on his stomach, between our four year old and two year old, coloring with them. “you know full well that we’re perfectly fine.”

“well, i just wasn’t sure. you know, he spends so little time with them already, and he just got back from a long trip, i figured he would be tired. so i came over to take care of them so he could sleep.” she feigns innocence, raising her hands up in mock surrender.

“do you realize how bad he already feels about being away from them? he does the best that he can in order to spend as much time with them as possible, and you coming here, just assuming that he’d be giving up any time he has with them, is rude and disrespectful.” i tell her.

“well now that i’m here, i’d like to spend some time with my grandchildren.” she says.

“fine. whatever.” i storm out of the kitchen, and Jack’s head pops up when i walk back into the living room. his eyebrows raise at the sight of my irritated expression and i shake my head to tell him that i don’t wanna talk about it. his attention is pulled away when Eli calls for him, telling him to look at his drawing, and Jack praises our son’s art skills.

my mother follows me into the living room, and Luella stands to come show me her picture.

“look! mommy!” i crouch down, looking at her page of multicolored scribbles.

“it’s amazing, Lu! you did such a good job!” i tell her, my smile wide as i clap for her. she giggles and turns to show her grandmother the drawing, but my mom pays no attention to the art.

“oh, Luella.” my mother scolds. “look at your pretty dress, it’s all covered in popsicle. you have got to be more careful. and you shouldn’t have been eating a popsicle this early in the day.”

i roll my eyes. she can’t even help criticizing a two year old.

“she wanted one after lunch, and she did a good job with her food, so we gave her one, mom.” i tell her, my tone hostile.

“you need to stop giving them so much sugar.” she replies. “no wonder they have trouble listening. all that sugar and barely any adult supervision”

“they’re not your kids, back the fuck off.” i say lowly through a passive aggressive smile. “they have trouble listening sometimes because they’re children. and they have plenty of adult supervision.”

“i’m just trying to help you, y/n. lord knows you could use it.” she huffs. my eyes go wide as i look at Jack to see if he heard that, and i know he did because the muscle in his jaw ticks from clenching it. but i know he won’t say anything because he doesn’t want to offend his mother-in-law.

“Jack.” my words are sweet, but venom drips from my voice, and i square my shoulders to prepare for an argument. “can you please take Luella to get changed? and take Eli with you.”

my husband jumps up at my words, corralling our kids into Lu’s room.

“what the fuck is your problem?” my tone is harsh as i attempt to keep my voice down. “those are my children. if i needed your help, i would ask for it. i’m sick and tired of you coming over here and making comments about our parenting or judging my husband for how he takes care of our family. Jack loves his job. he loves hockey. and yes, he has to leave sometimes, for a week at most, but he is the best father to our children.”

“y/n-” she starts.

“no! i’m not done. if you want to continue to be a part of their lives, you’re going to stop with the passive aggressive comments. you’re going to quit undermining our authority. and for the love of god, you are going to stop criticizing my children! you already fucked up my childhood and i will not let you ruin theirs.” i’m nearly yelling at this point, my anger reaching new levels. “do i make myself clear?”

my mother huffs, eyeing me up and down before nodding.

“good. now i’d like for you to leave. i would like to spend time with my children, whom i love very much, and their amazing and selfless father.” i tell her. my mom spins around, stalking towards the front door and i don’t move until i hear the door shut. it’s then that i finally let my shoulders slump, heaving out a deep sigh.

Jack steps out of the kids room, the children trailing after him as he makes his way over to me. his hands grip my waist as he pulls me against him, a smirk gracing his lips.

“that was kind of hot. like, seriously, how is my wife more badass than me?” he leans down, pulling me in for a kiss. his lips are soft and taste like the grape popsicle he shared with Luella earlier. “you did great, baby.”

“you think so? i wasn’t too harsh?” i ask, tears stinging my eyes.

“no. you said what needed to be said. i’m so proud of you for standing up to her.” he mutters against my lips.

“thank you, babe.”

-

-

#faithlynn’s 500 celly! #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #nj devils #new jersey devils #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl blurb #faithlynn’s writings <3

[mayasaura]

Call me a hopeless goth, but I kind of like the Ninth House's funerary practices and I wish we knew more about them. At least, I like what they could be: what I imagine they once were, before their culture was shattered.

The Ninth as we see it is a civilization in its death throes. It's a utilitarian horror show, hollowed out by tragedy and stripped of all dignity and sentiment, but we have good reason to think it wasn't always like that. They have a history of fine textile production and poetry, and occassionally forming hero cults to celebrate cultural icons. There used to be families who raised their children communally. Before the sea of tiny coffins, the Ninth may have known how to live, and even how to mourn.

There are glimmers of what their death culture might have been like in Harrow's prayer beads: made from the bones of her ancestors, a tangible link to her history and community. And in Gideon searching for her mother in the leek fields, imagining that a woman she never met is still present in her life.

In a living culture with a functioning community, the use of human bone as a crafting material could make mundane objects into momentos, ways to keep loved ones close after their passing. The skeleton servitors could be seen as a way individuals continued to care and provide for the community, even after death.

If their dead are routinely exhumed to be added to the chore rota, it would make sense for the exhumation, cleaning, and raising of those bones to traditionally be a cultural ritual like a graduation or funeral. Most of those skeletons would have had living friends and family working alongside them, when the Ninth still had generations. The skeleton sweeping the chapel used to be someone's uncle. People in these cultures do mourn death. We've seen them with the corpses of people they knew, and they're not completely desensitized; just very weird. There's a throw-away line once about Harrow having a pet peeve about personalising the skeletons, which means it must be fairly common to do that. What was to stop previous generations of the Ninth from getting scolded for putting funny hats on Cousin Balbus's bones? Nothing, that's what. Balbus liked hats, anyway, so I don't see how it was disrespectful.

I'm sure Wake didn't get a ceremony when she was raised as a servitor; the main beneficiary would have been Gideon, and god fucking knows no one ever went out of their way to make her feel like part of the community. I'm betting no one does raising ceremonies for anyone, anymore. The Ninth is as good as dead, and no one ever taught the youngest generation how to mourn. But for ten thousand years, the Ninth successfully lived in very close proximity to mundane natural death. It's fun to imagine what that looked like.

#the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #tlt worldbuilding #like.... the Ninth is based sort of on a medieval Christian monastary #in the small personal living quarters heavy emphasis on religion and communal living spaces #medieval monastaries were full of culture and gossip and functioned as a fairly close community #and when you factor in that the Ninth was hereditary and one of the commmunal duties was childrearing.... #you get something much closer to a smallish tribe or clan #the prayer of the Locked Tomb has been passed down unchanged for almost ten thousand years #that takes INTENSE social cohesion and a strong commitment to cultural ritual #the amount of Ninth culture we will never know because we came in after their extinction event.... man....

[writingwithfolklore]

Tips for Moving Out for the First Time

              I moved out of my parents house around 5 years ago and have since lived in four different apartments with four different combinations of roommates. And I’ve made a million mistakes. So if you’re thinking of moving out soon or have a move planned already, here’s just a few things you need to know:

1. Don’t mess with your lease

I cannot express this enough. The lease you sign is a serious legal contract. To break your lease is a genuinely big deal, and one that I didn’t take seriously enough in my first apartment. Listen, you may hear about your friends or other people sneaking in pets or an additional roommate that goes against what their lease says—I did this too, because people do it all the time and who cares as long as I pay rent on time? What started as my best friend and roommate bringing in her cat in our no-pets-allowed apartment ended in a very traumatic eviction, police involvement, and a permanent fissure in my friendship with my best friend.

Listen, I don’t want to scare you with all the gory details, but eviction is no small thing, and after that experience, I would never mess with my lease again. Even afterwards, I found landlords will always take the word of another landlord over yours. To get our next place we had to lie about our previous housing, give a fake name and number of our previous landlord, and in general it was incredibly difficult and stressful to get into a new place having to make up everything about our previous situation since we were in the wrong.

Please, don’t mess with your lease. The rules are the rules, and unfortunately landlords can make your life hell if you don’t follow them.

2. But seriously question it + know your tenant rights

On the topic of leases, read yours thoroughly to understand what rules are expected you follow, what it’s expected you’ll pay versus what’s included in the monthly rent, and when your contract begins and ends. Leases are packed full of important information, so don’t let anyone rush you through reading and understanding it, and it’s definitely a red flag if your landlord isn’t willing to talk or answer questions about it.

If your landlord told you that utilities are included in the rent, but your lease says it isn’t, question them! The lease is ultimately what rules you will follow, their word doesn’t mean much. If you need to change something, get it on paper, and don’t sign until you’re both happy with your contract.

Also do your research on your tenant rights in your city. What actions you can take if your landlord breaks your lease, what’s expected from your landlord in handling concerns of your suite/house, rent increases, what things a landlord can ask you about or not, and what is grounds for eviction (versus what they can't evict you for). Take notes for later in case you need them (but hopefully you won’t!)

3. Sign contracts with your roomies

I lived with a friend I kind of knew from school, my best friend, two best friends, and then a best friend and their friend, and no matter what my relationship to my roommates was, it was made 1 million percent better when we had a contract with each other, and had talked over and set specific rules for how we’d live together. People say don’t live with your best friends—I’d just say, don’t live with your best friends without a contract.

Sit down with your roomies, figure out who will do what chores and when, what the expectations are for sharing or not sharing groceries, cleaning supplies, dishes and other kitchen supplies, toilet paper, etc. etc., rules for having friends and partners over, noisiness, and any weird pet peeves you all have so you can avoid them with each other.

Put down everything you decide together on paper, and get everyone to sign it. It maybe seems extreme, but it’s better to do this right away than have to have a difficult and awkward conversation later about your roommate’s boyfriend who hasn’t gone home in three months and is driving up your grocery costs without adding anything to the household. Trust me on this one.

4. Get a job before you move out

Especially if you’re moving to a new city or far away from where you live currently, don’t assume you can move in first and then find a job later. Unless you have a lot of savings and you’re willing to lose it all if it comes to that, a job isn’t always guaranteed and rent money goes quick. To be safe and maintain trust with your landlord, job comes first.

(It’s also going to be a lot easier to get a place if you have a job first, landlords always ask about your work and earnings each month to make sure you’re a reliable tenant.)

I have a lot of experience in moving and finding apartments so if you want some more specific tips about actually getting a place, roommates, or anything else about the moving out process I’m happy to answer questions as best as I can! Just send em to my inbox or in the comment.

#writing community #life advice #moving out advice #tips for moving out for the first time

[curiousagittarius]

tease • bada lee

synopsis: in which bada had a rough day, ultimately deciding to tease you before bed to get some enjoyment.

"mmhh, todays been such a long day," bada sighs as she pulls the covers up and tucks herself away into her side of the bed.

you turn your head away from your phone to direct your attention to her. her eyes softly closed, sleep hanging heavy on them. pink lips plumping out after she rubs them together. bare, glossy features from removing her makeup and doing her skincare. she was always beautiful, you thought, but there's just something about her when she's barefaced and sleep is taking over. she's so beautiful.

"tell me about it?" you ask, turning onto your side to face her, bringing a finger under her chin.

you know she absolutely hates it when her face is touched after she does her skincare. even if your hands are clean, she still won't let you. it's her biggest pet peeve. so at night you always opt for hooking a finger under her chin to catch her attention.

she doesn't open her eyes, but tells you about all the troubles she had through the course of the day. explaining how she was overwhelmed for most of it, feeling off and just full of anxiety. listening to it made your stomach churn in sorrow for her. your brows furrowing a little, and lips pouting out as she continues. you feel so terrible, wishing you could've been there to help and ease her stress.

after she finishes, you coo, "oh honey i'm so sorry. you could've called me or texted me to talk about it. you know i'll pick up."

she groaned, grabbing your finger from under her chin with her hand, locking her slender fingers around yours. "i know, but i didn't want to bother you. i knew you were out having a good time with your friends, and wasn't going to ruin it by telling you about everything."

continuing, "you've been working so hard lately, and you haven't seen them in so long, i really wanted you to have a good time."

you're heart fluttered. she's always so considerate of you. but then again, you still felt bad you couldn't be there for her.

reaching your opposite hand up, you place it on the side of her head. brushing her hair down to her ears, then down to her mid back. bada's hair is so long and luscious. black locks with a shiny cast and grey underneath. you couldn't help but to run your fingers through her hair whenever she laid her head in your lap for a quick nap before she had to leave. or when she cuddles up to you in the night and nestles her head into your chest. she's definitely the taller one in the relationship, but you really have no problem being the big spoon at times.

"i missed you though," she finishes, prodding the tips of your fingers with hers, "so much."

there it was again, your heart fluttering. you'll never get enough of it.

"i missed you too, baby," you say gently, pushing her hair out of her face. your eyes now concentrated on her plump lips.

bada purses her lips together, making a kiss kiss sound. you lightly giggle, bringing your lips to meet hers. something you'd been waiting for since you both parted ways earlier in the day.

once your lips touch her warm ones, you couldn't help but to completely envelop yourself in her. the way bada's lips felt against yours. how yours and hers fit so perfectly together. every time it happened, you hoped it would last forever. you and her would never part ways. you wanted it to be just her and you, wrapped up in each other for the rest of your lives.

abruptly pulling away suddenly, bada places her thumb on your bottom lip, a slight giggle leaving hers. her eyes now open and sharing her gaze between your eyes and lips. her thumbing padding at your bottom lip a few times, then swiping across it.

you groan in protest and roll your eyes. from time to time she loves to do that. tease you, knowing very well what's she's doing and why. she loves the look on your face when you whimper at her for pulling away, and beg her to pull you back in. sometimes she does.

"you're such a tease bada, stop that," you say, grabbing her hand and pushing it away from your lips and into her chest. her sweet laugh fills the air, finding your frustration so adorable.

you move, turning away from her but she pops up and reaches across you, grabbing your shoulder, pulling you to bring you back towards herself.

"ok, i'm sorry i'm sorry. i'll stop," she says now propped up above you with one arm placed down on the bed next to your head. the other still lingering on your shoulder. her soft peach scented hair dangling just inches away from you. your eyes meet for a brief second. the fondness in her eyes is apparent when they're on you. but it doesn't last for long.

you push yourself up, using your arms under you for support. you push your lips against hers one last time for the night.

#bada lee #swf2 #swf2 x reader #wlw post #wlw #wlw love #lee bada

[abiiors]

under the cherry blossoms - george x reader ˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧💌˚.⋆🌿

a/n: this isn't intentionally a george birthday fic but i'm honestly very happy with the coincidence. happy birthday to my sweetie pumpkin pie sugar plum fairy boy 🤭🤍 cw: brief mentions of being sick, like vomit etc. and a lot of sappy fluff, some smut but not very detailed and explicit. this is sooooooo cheesy ugh wc: 3.3k

it’s hits him first when he surprises her with the tickets as a christmas present—tickets to japan for the coming spring. tickets to see the cherry blossoms that she’s been dying to see ever since george showed her a few photos of him and the band in japan, laughing under the cherry blossoms, surrounded by pink petals. 

her eyes go round at the sight of the tickets, lingering on the destination again and again until her brain catches up with exactly what’s happening. then she grins so wide that she can’t quite keep her eyes open and tackles george into a hug until he’s on the floor and she’s on top of him, kissing his whole face and mumbling thank you over and over again. 

george hugs her tightly and laughs at her excitement. 

it hits him then—he should buy a ring. 

for weeks he pesters matty about it, then ross, then adam. adam, naturally, seems to have the most credibility on this matter, he’s the only one of them who’s ever made it to the marriage stage. george has a million and one questions about it, and a million and one anxious thoughts that just won’t seem to go away. 

“what if she hates the ring!” 

“she loves you, she’ll love the ring you get her.”

“yeah but what if i blow it and say all the wrong things?!”

“have you ever done that in the past?”

“uh… no.”

and this is where adam’s patience runs thin. 

ultimately, george is told to calm down, breathe, and pick a ring he thinks she’ll like. george knows her like the back of his own hand—knows her likes and dislikes and pet peeves, knows the weird ribena flavours she prefers. he even knows that she is a little superstitious about broken mirrors and spilt salt but gets huffy when it’s brought up (mostly by george in a fond, teasing way)

suffice it to say, george knows her. inside and out. 

and so decides to get his shit together, and get her the most perfect ring he’s ever seen.

ring tucked safely in george’s suitcase, they land in tokyo three days before his birthday. 

now that he’s over all his nervousness, george can’t contain the fucking excitement he’s felt for the past few weeks—it’s been an almost impossible task to keep the ring hidden from her at home. the sock drawer is out of question, along with every other tiny nook and cranny in the house because george knows how thorough she gets about spring cleaning. he has to resort to handing the ring to adam for safe-keeping. 

and sure it’s mostly so she won’t find it by accident, but also because he doesn’t want to give into the intimacy of the moment and propose on a whim. 

he wants it to be grand—champagne and candles and roses (or well… cherry blossoms). he wants it to be memorable. 

they get the hotel check-in sorted—well george does anyway while she bounces on the balls of her feet next to him, too excited to care about any tiredness or jet lag. 

it’s blissful, it’s perfect—that’s how he’d describe the first two days they spend there. so far it’s been exactly what he wanted—relaxing and exciting. the ring burns a hole in his suitcase though. every time he grabs something from it, he can’t resist swiping his fingers over the velvet box stashed in the corner, almost like his brain is trying to confirm over and over again that the ring is indeed there. 

at night when she goes to bed, george rehearses his speech in his head. 

you’re the love of my life… no! too fucking cheesy, and he’s stating the obvious.

i’ve thought of marrying you for… no! he can’t bring it up in the first fucking line, not before he actually pops the question. that’s meant to be for the after. 

i love you, i love everything about you… yes, okay, yes! now he’s going somewhere. that’s what he should do—keep it sweet and simple and real. keep it genuine. and so he repeats all of it in his head over and over again, smiling wide each time when he imagines her reaction. 

his mind’s come up with a thousand different scenarios—outcomes of all the little details. would she cry? (yes) would she squeal and jump? (also yes)

would she say yes? (he really fucking hopes so)

his actual birthday is out of the question. george knows she’s a firm believer in not proposing on other special occasions—so no christmas, no birthdays, and absolutely not someone else’s wedding. 

besides, he just wants to have a good birthday without being all nervous and jittery about it. 

on the day of, he wakes up to balloons. tonnes of them. he doesn’t even know when she’s had the time to blow them all up and arrange them in the room and order room service breakfast in bed with cherry blossoms in a small vase but george feels warmth spread through his whole body. 

how did he get so lucky? 

“happy birthday!” she squeals the moment she realises he’s awake. her excitement is palpable, her huge smile infectious. george pulls her tightly into his arms and kisses her softly. 

he mumbles a quiet thank you too, murmured against her lips so he won’t have to pull away a lot. 

she’s the one who deepens the kiss, dragging her tongue over his lip and nipping at it until his fingers dig into her hips out of sheer desperation. she fits so perfectly against him, like the last piece of a puzzle. made just for him. 

she groans into the kiss and his hand travels down, grabbing and squeezing her ass until she wraps her legs around his waist and gets on top. all traces of sleep leave him in an instant. 

george sits up as much as he can. his kisses turn feverish as his lips move along the hollow of her throat, her collarbone. 

“my sweet, sunshine girl,” he smiles along her skin, words spoken in a low whisper that make her shiver and squeeze her legs around him. 

his mouth travels lower, ghostly kisses trailed to as much of her cleavage as her top offers. 

“george,” her fingers tighten on his shirt, “please, i need—fuck, need you.”

“anything for my girl,” he whispers.

everything about her amazes him—from the way she knows his body so well, to the way hers responds so perfectly to his touch. he can’t help but stare at her with adoration when he slides down on his cock, taking him inch by inch, face contorted in pleasure. he can’t stop staring at her when she falls apart, crying out his name. he only closes his eyes when his orgasm hits him, making his whole body tingle in pleasure. 

she falls on his chest after, body sweaty and slick and stays there until she manages to catch her breath. even when she climbs off him, she doesn’t venture too far, climbing back into bed and cuddling into his side once she gets some water for the both of them. 

“cancel plans for today? please?” he mumbles into her hair and she laughs. 

“we’re here, all the way on a different continent, and you want to spend the whole day in bed?” 

“please?” he tries his best at using puppy eyes on her, a trick that’s worked great for him multiple times before. and once again, she relents. 

“fineee birthday boy! only because it’s your day though.”

at the back of his head he kinda wishes it wasn’t, only so he could get the ring out right now and ask her. right here in this bed while she’s naked. 

he imagine what she’d look like with nothing but the ring on, the diamond glittering on her finger, messy hair, and a happy smile on her face. 

“can we at least have a birthday dinner for you? a proper one.”

“yes! i know just the right place,” he answers and kisses her deeply, teeth snagging on her lower lip until she’s wrapped around him again. 

tomorrow, he thinks. he’s going to do it tomorrow. 

and he’s going to make it perfect. 

the birthday dinner comes back to bite him in the ass. 

he spends the entirety of the morning after miserable on the bathroom floor, retching into the toilet, even after his stomach is emptier than it’s ever been. she sits behind him, stroking his back and getting him water whenever he needs it. she doesn’t move even when he repeatedly asks her to. 

“‘s disgusting,” followed by another gag to which makes her click her tongue. 

“it’s not. let me take care of you!”

it does bring him some relief to lay his head down on her lap in between rounds of throwing up so george doesn’t argue further about it. 

mostly though he’s upset about the whole day being ruined. he should be kneeling down in front of her! asking her the most important question of his life! and yet here he is, kneeling down in front of the toilet, face to face with disgusting, half-digested food. 

it’s like the universe has it out for him, ruining all his well thought out plans. 

fortunately, it passes an hour later, even though it leaves him feeling icky and disgusting. the only silver lining is that he gets to be pampered. she lets him sit in the bath, face squished into her stomach while she washes his hair for him. he groans every time a stomach cramp hits but she scratches his scalp as a consolation. 

it’s okay, he thinks, he still has a good few days to do it. tomorrow will be better.

and then they fight. 

well, it’s not a fight fight but it’s most certainly a little spat that leaves her all huffy and sour. and george knows it’d be a terrible idea to propose when she’s in a mood like this. it is, in part, his fault after all—he’s been distracted. 

and he can’t even admit to her why he’s been distracted, coordinating all the little details with the hotel staff and telling the old japanese florist exactly what flowers he wants where one party barely speaks english and the other speaks no japanese at all. 

it’s all stressful. it’s a slight mess. 

and he’s been on his phone a little more than he should. so when george looks up to see her, her hand on her hips, foot tapping in annoyance, he knows he’s messed up.

“is there something more important?” there’s a slight bite to her words which grates on him. 

george freezes, trying to think of an excuse on the spot. “just…matty.”

her eyes narrow. he knows that look, knows that she does not believe a word coming out of his mouth right now. but it’s not like he can spill everything. 

“there was a…holdup. sorted now.” he tries not to stutter but ends up sounding really curt. 

she gives him the side-eye, playing with the tassels of her top. george hears her exasperated sigh, her frustration palpable in the tension that hangs between them. “it’s always matty. how convenient.” 

george's jaw tightens, his own irritation flaring up. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“well, you’re clearly being shady and using matty as an excuse!”

george panics. this is going south and if he doesn’t salvage this now and come up with a better excuse he’s going to end up with an upset girlfriend and absolutely zero chances of a yes. 

he opens and closes his mouth, stuttering out gibberish. 

fuck. 

“it’s fine, george,” she sighs and turns around, walking away without even waiting to see if he’s following. it’s upsetting that he can’t figure out what she’s thinking right now. it’s not like her to be upset with him so quickly. it’s not like her to just stop communicating. 

all george can do is catch up to her and kiss her head in apology. eventually she melts but he can still sense a bit of hurt in her voice every time she speaks. 

“fine,” she huffs, “you can stop looking like a kicked puppy now. i’m not mad at you.”

“you sure about that?”

“i promise, baby. i’m not. just…want a bit more of your attention?”

for the rest of the day he vows not to touch his phone, only taking it out once to cancel all the half-formed planned when he’s in the bathroom of a restaurant. the ring stays in his pocket, burning against his thigh.

by their penultimate day george is fucking sure he’s jinxed. the ring comes with him everywhere they go but then how is it possible that every time he tries to propose something or the other goes wrong? 

they have a hectic day of travelling and she’s too tired to do anything but order room service and sleep or he can’t find the right moment to do it, can’t think of the right words to segue into it. by their penultimate day he’s frustrated, huffy, silently stewing. so much so that even she can tell something’s wrong with him despite his best attempts to hide it. 

“should we…go for a walk?” she suggests just around sunset, a little timid. “there’s this little street by our hotel i saw yesterday, cherry blossoms on both sides. i think it would be nice.”

halfheartedly, he says yes and intertwines his fingers with her as they walk out of their hotel and onto the cosy streets outside. on any other day, this would have been one of the prettiest things he’s ever experienced—strolling down a beautiful street with the love of his life while the world is doused in golden light. but his frustration trumps everything.

“is something wrong?” she asks suddenly. her voice quivers. 

for such a pretty street, it’s utterly empty, devoid of any cars or people or even any occasional stray cats that she loves to stop and pet. 

irritation burns in his chest—not at her, at everything else, this whole trip, one silly situation after the next. “no.”

“no because—”

“can we not talk about this right now?”

she goes quiet at the interruption, eyes wide and confused. george is about to even apologise for it when her whole face changes, goes from confused to determined. 

“no, actually. let’s talk about it.”

“baby—”

“no! you have been distracted the whole time we have been here, something’s clearly wrong and you won’t tell me what it is!”

george gapes at her, but she’s clearly not done yet. 

“i know you’ve been here many times before but it feels like you’ve had a shit time with me—”

“what?! no—”

“because i can tell the whole time, you’ve been preoccupied—”

“oh god, i’ve been trying to propose!” he yells out in the middle of the street. a cherry blossom petal flutters down and smacks him in the face and george looks at his girlfriend’s stunned face. a pit opens up in his stomach. 

he just said that… he just fucking said that. 

the conversation he had with adam months ago pops up in his head. for all the misplaced confidence his friend had in him, george has just gone and blown it all up. exactly what he was worried about. and now that he has started, he can't even stop.

“i’ve been trying to ask you to marry me for days now but something or the other keeps going wrong and i—” he chokes and the rest of the words die on his tongue. 

all the nights he’s spent rehearsing his speech, all the time he spent trying to make it happen, all of it down the drain because he stupidly blurted it out. george stuffs his hand in his pocket and takes out the velvet box. 

“fuck, i’ve carried this everywhere with me and—”

“yes.”

“what?”

there are tears shining in her eyes and for a second he is so sure that this is about to turn into a serious fight. he fucked up, he fucked up deeply. 

and then she breaks out into the most gorgeous smile he’s ever seen, laughing through the tears. “yes. yes! are you kidding me? YES!”

“yes, you’ll…marry me?”

“if you’re still asking…”

he doesn’t even realise he’s crying until something wet hits his nose. there’s an entire storm of emotions in his chest—a whole mixture of nervousness and guilt and glee and oh god so much fucking happiness that he can’t help the wide smile that stretches across his face, can’t help the way a whole swarm of butterflies erupt in his stomach. 

more cherry blossoms flutter down and george laughs along with her. 

“this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. i had a whole thing planned, shit!”

“so do it. ask me!”

and that’s what he does. 

instead of the roses and lights and champagne, george kneels down in the middle of the cherry blossom-covered empty street in the dying light of the sun, and looks up at her. 

he opens the ring box. 

“i love you so much, you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this—oi, stop laughing at me!” to which she just laughs harder and wipes away the tears in her eyes. 

“fuck it,” george curses under his breath, “fuck the speech, just…i’ve been so desperate to hear you say yes. marry me? please?”

somehow between crying and jumping up and down in excitement, she manages to nod and that’s all the confirmation he needs to get up to his feet and kiss her deeply, kiss her till the air gets knocked out of his lungs and he has to step away just a little bit to breathe. but nothing and no one can wipe the smile on his face. 

quickly, he takes the ring out of the box and slides it onto her finger. it fits her perfectly, like it was meant for her and her only. 

yes. she just said yes.

she just said yes after the shittiest proposal in the world. how did he get so lucky?

“that was…utterly shit. sorry i’ve been such a shit boyfriend.”

“fiance,” she corrects with a big, goofy grin on her face. “and are you joking?! that was the best proposal ever. certainly the most memorable.”

“it was?”

she nods again, distracted this time, eyes trained at her ring. the fading sunlight makes it look even more perfect.

“i’d really like to hear it though, the original plan.” 

george shakes his head and takes her hand in his. his thumb swipes over her ring, drawing lazy circles around it until he memorises the feel of it on her finger. the precise shape and size of it. it’s perfect, he thinks. the perfect ring for his perfect girl. 

“let’s go back then,” he kisses the top of her head, “and i’ll tell you all about it.”

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