#the fact that each question DOES get answered one way or another

[tgmsunmontue]

Where do I know you from? 3/?

Hangster crackfic. There are too many Jakes and Bradleys for Jake and Bradley to be dealing with. Or the Universe is just as fed up with them being blind.

PART ONE PART TWO

PART THREE

                Rooster Nine arrives in chef whites, which he guesses answers the question of what he does for a job, although he’s getting asked a whole raft of questions by Three and Five.

                “What are you two writing down?”

                “Well, every Bradley here has a Jake in their Universe. I think we’re meant to find you yours.”

                “We don’t need to find him. I know where he is.”

                “You’ve met him already?”

                Jake stares at them both.

                “Considering you’re both meant to be super smart, you’re thick as bricks. I recognized you all,” Jake says, waving his hand at the accumulating Roosters, who seem to be arriving at an even faster rate. “Of course I’ve met him. I’ve saved his life. We see each other nearly every day.”

                Rooster Three and Five exchange looks.

                “And you’re not together with him?” Rooster Five asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow and of course he looks exactly like Rooster, but it’s not him and Jake scowls.

                “I think I’d know,” Jake snaps.

                “Maybe that’s why we’re here. To get them together. Me and my Jake had to swap bodies before we figured our shit out.”

                “It’s as good a theory as any,” Rooster Three concedes and Jake pulls a face.

                “I don’t need alternate versions of my… work colleague, trying to hook me up with him,” Jake says, and then wonders if that even made sense.

                “Bob would probably know.”

                Jake is about to ask why Bob would have any idea about this kind of thing but the door is swinging open and he knows it’s going to be yet another Rooster.

                “Oh wow… what is going on here. It’s like there’s a rip in time and space and only I can use it. This is super weird. Hey Jake…”

                The way he greets Jake and says Jake’s name is syrupy warm and a few of the other Roosters snort in amusement. Rooster Ten is stepping close and giving him a hug, brushing a kiss across his cheek and Jake pulls back.

                “What the fuck man. I don’t know you.”

                “Bet you want to though.”

                “No. Apparently his Bradley is just a work colleague.”

                Nearly every Rooster in the close vicinity scoffs and this many Bradshaw’s are really starting to get on his nerves. Rooster Ten rests his hands on his shoulders, massages them and as nice as it might feel Jake is not having it.

                “Get your hands off me.”

                Immediately Rooster Ten is backing away, hands up in easy supplication, although his eyebrow is quirked in that same challenging way Rooster has and he has to resist the urge to punch it off and he needs to calm down and deescalate the situation. He grits his teeth.

                “Surely your Jake wouldn’t want you, uh, touching another Jake.”

                “Oh, I know for a fact that he’d be more than okay with this. We have discussed this fantasy in detail.”

                Jake doesn’t even know how to begin addressing that, just turns toward Three and Five, because despite their nerding-out over the science they haven’t tried to hit on him. Other then Three giving him a wink, which compared to the other shit happening is completely benign. Still, Rooster Ten doesn’t seem too put-off, settles in the chair next to Jake and just watches, accepts the beer from Rooster Six.

                Rooster Ten went to USNA. He’s the first Rooster here who went to USNA and Jake wonders if that’s what makes him more confident. Except all of the Roosters are confident in their own ways. Of course, that’s when Rooster Eleven arrives, and he looks like he’s wearing body paint, he doesn’t have the same bulk as some of the others, but he’s still well muscled. Jake can tell under the body-paint-esque workout attire that Rooster Eleven is wearing.

                Rooster Ten reaches over and closes his jaw, dabs at the corner of Jake’s mouth with a napkin.

                “Just a work colleague huh?” Rooster Ten murmurs, and Jake gives him the finger.

                “What do you do?” Rooster Three asks the new arrival.

                “I’m a dance teacher. Are you documenting all this?”

                “For science,” Rooster Three and Five answer and Rooster Eleven just nods, shrugs his shoulders easily. He seems very relaxed.

                “And is Tom Kazansky alive or dead…”

                “Dead… what kind of question is that?”

                “We’re just trying to figure out all the potential pivot points of the timelines. So is Maverick with Penny in your Universe then?”

                “No. He’s with Beau.”

                “Who?”

                “Ah, Admiral Simpson.”

                Jake is glad he isn’t the only one spitting their drink out in surprise.

#Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick fanfic #where do I know you from?

[melchinafan]

[Image ID: a screenshot from the Redfall hero trailer for Devinder. The shot is from the perspective of his phone camera, showing him in profile with a charming smile as he turns to start documenting the ashed vampire (not pictured, but laying off-screen on the floor of the general store).]

Find yourself someone who looks at you the way Devinder looks at that sizzling vampire skeleton.

#redfall #devinder crousley #am I jealous of that vampire skeleton? #...maybe #what of it?? anyway #I have enjoyed all of these trailers #but I love Dev's the most #the questions the others bombard him with #the fact that each question DOES get answered one way or another #'that's delicate equipment!' Dev it's your phone #I'm sure you've tinkered with it but still #'self-taught I'm proud to say' SIR YOU INVENTED A /TELEPORTER/ #Dev's sentiment of why he endeavors to share his stories (which is also VERY much an Art mood) #his book title accidentally(?) being one that could double as a monsterfucker romance title #I hope there's chapters of it scattered about in-game #I wanna read it so bad #I want ALL THE LORE and Dev is the PERFECT avenue for it I love him

[undiscovered-horizon]

[It’s considered good etiquette to ask a man about his wife’s wellbeing. Except if the man in question is Dracule Mihawk.]

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

Garp hates having to call Mihawk, mainly because of the warlord's attitude. Used to the usual "yes, sir!" of the Marines, a man with his own will and agenda is not something he entirely knows how to navigate. Especially since both of them know that the World Government needs the warlords more than they need the bureaucracy. And that doesn't exactly help in exercising power.

His attempts at diplomacy have burst into flames each time and today isn't going to be much different:

"How’s the missus?" Garp asks in the nicest tone he can force although he's aware that Mihawk knows how much the vice admiral hates asking for Dracule's assistance.

Mihawk only scoffs. "Are you calling just to spoil my mood or is there another reason for your impertinence?"

"I was just trying to-"

"Don't," he cuts him off in a stern voice. "If you have business with me, speak fast. If you're interested in my wife, I know where you live, Garp. I'd suggest losing your unwelcome nosiness before you lose something else."

Little did Garp know at the time but his little question was possibly the worst strategy he could think of. Dracule Mihawk is not like most men and the mere mention of his wife by acquaintances only enrages him. Work and private life do not ever mix. And he'll be damned if someone tries to breach that, even in the form of a courtesy. Therefore, the rest of the call was filled with openly insulting answers that were bold even for Mihawk. A veiled threat or two also found their way into their rather tense conversation.

You know he's done with Garp when he lets out a frustrated grunt. Sometimes you wonder if this grumpy, forever dissatisfied version of him is the only side of Mihawk his acquaintances know. Maybe he really is two men in the form of one.

He's sitting at his desk, thinking about something and not bothering to get up for now. Considering the fact that his hat is lying on the table and not on his head, Mihawk is probably not planning on going out anytime soon. Then again, judging by his spoiled mood, his homestay is a blessing for the first poor sods that would cross his path.

In slow steps, you stroll to his side, letting your hand brush through his hair. He doesn't say anything, only leans his head further towards you. The thing about Mihawk is that he loved to reject and decline but he never does so to you. No, in your case it's the opposite - he revels in allowing you whatever you want.

So intimidating and combative, yet soft and looking for intimacy. Truly, two men with the face of one.

"My mother used to say that each grey hair is one thing we worry about," you say quietly. "At this rate, love, your whole head will be white by noon."

"Your mother also says that milk goes sour because gnomes piss in it," he retorts. Yes, your mother and her strange folk beliefs... She's probably the only person Mihawk can force himself to be nice to despite his dislike.

His response earns a hearty laugh from you. Clear as day, you can see his posture relax as he listens to the music of your happiness. If he even thinks about the possibility of Garp or any other of his acquaintances hearing it, he might just get furious again.

"Well, nobody's perfect," you say between chuckles.

Then, Mihawk gently grabs your hand and lowers it to his face. With softness and passion that hardly befits a man of his infamy, he kisses the inside of your hand. "You seem to be doing so effortlessly."

#mihawk one piece #mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk fanfiction #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece #opla #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #one piece imagine #dracule mihawk fanfic #dracule mihawk x you #dracule mihawk fanfiction #dracule mihawk x reader

[bunni-v1]

First Years Finding Out Your A Girl?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)

TW: Mild swearing, STRICTLY Female Reader, Discussion of Jack having a good sniffer (lol)

Info: Headcannons; Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel x Reader (platonic); Mostly for fun

🍓Hi. I'm back... sorta. I didn't have much time to write over the summer, and I honestly don't know how much I can write during school cause my schedule is... yikes. But I picked up something I wrote a while ago, edited it, and decided to post it. I'll be answering whatever's in my ask box right now, and then maybe work on some other stuff.

Ortho & Sebek

Second Years

Third Years

Dorm Leaders

-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?

-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.

-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.

-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)

-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)

-So how do you two do it?

-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.

-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.

-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)

-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.

-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 

-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.

-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.

-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.

-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!

-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.

-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…

-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.

-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course, but we’ll get to him).

-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.

-So… how do they find out?

FIRST-YEAR SQUAD

Ace

-He’s one of the first ones who find it out, and it’s in the very cliche anime way.

-After some point of knowing you, Ace is so comfortable that he just invites himself into ramshackle. 

-It’s never been an issue or anything. You’re thick as thieves now, you’ve survived death together a handful of times. If you ask Ace, that’s about as close as you can get with someone.

-Normally, you and Grim are just sitting around in the living area, but this time you aren’t. However, he does hear voices coming from your room. His curiosity is peaked.

-So, slippery guy that he is, he sneaks up to your room and his curiosity only grows when he hears a woman’s voice. Prefect getting lucky? And he didn’t tell him? Ace thought you guys were friends.

-He creeps up to your room, slides open your door, and!!! Holy shit it’s you. It’s you in a towel. It’s you and you’ve got tits?!?! 

-His first reaction is to… well… scream.

-“You’re a girl?!?”

“Why are you in my room???”

“You’ve got- boobs!”

 “Get out Ace!”

-Bro sits very politely and very quietly on your couch after that. Deep behind his blank stare, he is seething. You were a girl this whole time, and you didn’t tell him! He thought you guys were friends!

-He definitely fights you about it once you’re down and dressed. He’s just salty, he’ll get over it. 

-Swears up and down he won’t tell anyone.

-Immediately tells Deuce.

-That's it though! Deuce is part of the main quartet, he deserves to know! (You scold him for this too, but you figured it would happen one way or another).

-From him finding out, he doesn’t really treat you differently. You’re still a person, why should he act differently cause you’ve got different body parts than him.

-Though, and he won’t admit this, he’s a bit more… watchful of the others around you. Yeah, you can hold your own and he respects you… but guys like Azul exist, and he’s seen firsthand the torture Azul is capable of. 

Deuce

-As stated before, Ace outs you to Deuce almost immediately after finding out.

-Deuce, in all his awkward glory, completely shuts down. Disconnects from this plane of existence. He cannot believe the news he was just told.

-You, one of his best friends in all of twisted wonderland. You, the person who survived multiple overblots alongside him. You, who have seen him at his most vulnerable… are a girl.

-It isn’t even the fact that you’re a girl, it’s the fact that you kept this a secret from him for so long. You guys are… bros… how could you possibly hide something so important from him. Did you not trust him?

-Yeah… he overthinks things quite a bit.

-He also ambushes you the very next day with a million questions (very loudly (very in public)), to which you calm him down and reassure him that “No, Deuce, I don’t suddenly hate you. I wasn’t hiding it from you maliciously. I was going to tell you at some point, I just hadn’t had a good time to.”

-Deuce’s behavior definitely… changes… in some ways. 

-Deep down he knows you’re a kick-ass bitch and you don’t need to be cared for, but he can’t help but want to. 

-It’s definitely his mommy issues in play here.

-He just becomes more… protective and aware around you. Not in a creepy obsessive way, just in the same way a guard dog would. 

-Like Ace, he’s more than aware of what the people on this campus are capable of, and you’re completely magicless on top of being more feminine. Some guys at NRC would hop on an opportunity like that like nothing.

-He just doesn’t want to see his friends getting hurt okay :(

-It’s like you gained an overprotective older brother who also sometimes barks!

Jack

-Out of everyone, Jack was the first to find out.

-I don’t wanna be the cliche writer but… he’s got a sniffer on him. 

-He definitely could smell that something was up, but he didn’t want to assume! 

-You could be trans, you could be genderfluid, you could be anything other than a woman! It’s not his place to judge, and smell isn’t always the end all be all. You could just really smell feminine and that's how guys come in your world.

-Mr. Respectful would never want to assume anything… but he’s a little curious he won’t lie.

-Jack REALLY found out shortly after Ace, Deuce and Grim got their asses in trouble with Azul. 

-He’d never been given a reason to spend any more than a few minutes around you at a time. However, since he got pulled into this mess, he’s spent a lot more time with you.

-It happened when he was forced to hide under the desk in his office.

-You were so close and you just… smelled like a girl.

-He is so polite and so upstanding, he would NEVER ask you directly. But the suspense of not knowing really does take a number on him.

-By the end of Azul’s overblotting he is so awkward and nervous around you, that you absolutely have to say something.

-At this point, you figured most of the beastmen had an idea of you being feminine, however, you had no real confirmation of that. 

-Jack is such a “let's not bother other people” kind of guy, that you knew he wouldn’t want to say anything to you if you knew… so you decided to take the plunge.

-At the museum, you pull him aside and you have to ask.

_”Jack?”

“Hm?”

“You know, don’t you?”

“…”

“I figured as much. Don’t tell anyone, m’kay? I want to tell my friends on my terms.”

-It makes Jack respect you more than he already did. Not only did you have the confidence to confront him, but you did it calmly and you were understanding of his position.

-And honestly? Not much changes between the two of you.

-He just respects you a little more. He’s not particularly protective around most other students, he talks to you the same, and he doesn’t act like you’re special. You’re just… a friend. 

-The only thing that he may be different about is other beastmen. He does his best to shield you from them if he feels they might be a threat to your well-being. 

Epel

-Epel, being a more feminine-looking man himself… doesn’t think much of you.

-At this point, you’re well acclimated to things at nightraven college, and are very good at being “one of the boys.”

-His ONLY implication is how… differently Rook and Kalim treat you.

-At this point, Kalim has found out via the previous chapter, and Rook knows because of course he does. (We won’t be getting into that today though)

-They both are more… delicate with you? Rook whips out the charm times ten when you’re around. Kalim, although friendly with everyone, seems to be even MORE friendly when you’re around. Like he wants you to like him.

-Even Deuce and Ace have a few… odd tells.

-They both pointedly ensure Jamil is at least five feet away from you at all times. Glare at Rook when he’s a little too charming.

-Other than that, nothing really gives it away.

-Epel is completely and totally in the dark because you’re really good at hiding that you’re a woman.

-He does, however, eventually find out because… Deuce slips up. He’s there giving his big speech on the beach, hyping Epel up, and somehow he manages, “And the prefect is a woman, but she never lets that get in her way!”

-Epel: Shocked, confused, in awe… says nothing. He lets the information ruminate.

-He lets it ruminate for a very long time.

-So long, in fact, that he doesn’t raise his suspicions until the two of you are on a broom heading off to save Vil’s life.

-The silence was killing him, so he had to ask.

-“Prefect, are you a girl?”

“You didn’t know?”

“I couldn’t be sure, I look like a girl too, so you never know.”

“Yes, Epel, I’m a girl.”

“…Cool.”

-Honestly, he’s kind of jealous of you. You passed better than him, and you had to try harder.

-It doesn’t change how he treats you, honestly. He’s not that kind of country bumpkin, but he won’t lie and say he doesn’t have a little resentment held against you.

-He thinks you’re cool as hell, and you help redefine what femininity can look like to him much better than what Vil does.

-He, however, does actively become more protective of you. 

-Not because he thinks you can’t fend for yourself, but because he kinda wants to show off a little.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola #ace tr #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader #epel felmier #epel felmier x reader #x reader #bunni's treats 🧁

[runnning-outof-time]

The Brother That Always Wins | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @kpopgirlbtssvt

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader, with hints of John Shelby and Arthur Shelby trying their hand at flirting with the reader

Summary: (Y/N) is oblivious to the fact that three of the most powerful men in Birmingham are interested in her. When it's all said and done though, the brother that always wins, wins.

Warnings: language, drinking, terribly written flirting

Word Count: 4350

A/N: this story turned into an absolute ride, one that I enjoyed much more than I thought I would. It’s a bit of controlled chaos…I hope you’re ready for it. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"The fuck are you grinnin' for?" John Shelby asked as soon as his brother, Arthur entered the snug. He couldn't help himself, his older sibling's grin was able to be seen from a mile away.

"I just helped the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen in me life," Arthur proudly answered, his chest jutting out slightly as he spoke.

"Helped in what way, eh?" Tommy questioned, his one eyebrow raised. He'd been reading the newspaper and keeping to himself, only half-listening as John talked away about whatever, but he couldn't deny that he was interested in what Arthur had to say.

"I bet you he just stood there and gawked at her!" John chimed in before Arthur could respond, a smug grin on his face.

"I did not!" Arthur snapped back at his younger sibling, sending a glare his way, "I had a bloody conversation with her and all!"

"What happened?" Tommy asked another question, slowly losing his patience as he waited.

"So she was walkin' with a box, right? A big ass box...one that's too big for a lady like her to be carryin’. But she was walkin' with it. And so I was watchin' her from across the road, because she was goin' the same way I was. We must've walked for some time, how long I don't remember. Anyways, she gets to this one stretch and she trips...loses her fuckin' balance or something. All of the things in the box go flyin'. So I did what any man does and ran 'cross the street to help her. We put all the shit back into the box and then when she looked up at me, I thought I was gonna die on the spot. She was so fuckin' beautiful, lads. Shy, and sweet, and just fuckin'...gorgeous. I swear to you that if she would've..."

"Get on with the story, Arthur," Tommy interjected into Arthur's tangent, making him snap out of the attraction-riddled daze that he was quickly slipping into.

"Yeah, right," Arthur nodded, shaking his head slightly as he tried to recall where he was. "She was actin' so shy and thankin' me for helpin' her clean the stuff up that I couldn't but just be, fuckin'..."

"Arthur," Tommy said in a warning tone.

"I'm gettin' on with it," he brushed his brother off before continuing, "I couldn't help but not want to leave her. So I asked her where she was goin' and she said to the school. That was out of my way, but I didn't fuckin' care. I carried her things to the school she went on with thankin' me again. She was so fuckin' gorgeous and...shit, boys, I think I might be in love," he finished up his story, continuing on with it despite the scoffs or stiffled laughter coming from his brothers.

"You said she was going to the school?" John asked a question once it was clear that Arthur was finished with his story.

"Yeah...she's a fuckin' teacher, mate. Even better," Arthur grinned.

"Did you get her name?" John asked another question.

"Course I did!" Arthur responded like it was obvious.

Silence fell in the snug then, the three men looking between each other. John waited on bated breath for a few moments before it became obvious that Arthur wasn't going to say it without being prompted. "What was it?"

"(Y/N), I think it was," Arthur recalled, his answer making John choke out a weird sound, one that seemed to be a mixture of a scoff and a laugh. "What?"

"She's Katie's fuckin' teacher, mate!" John exclaimed, his declaration making Arthur's eyes widen. "She is fuckin' gorgeous, I'll tell you that," he then agreed with Arthur, a wide grin now plastered across his face.

John and Arthur then went about talking about her after Arthur prompted his younger sibling to tell him all that he knew about her. Tommy sat in his chair, half reading the paper and half listening to their conversation. He couldn't deny that he was intrigued by his brothers' stories, and everything they said about her made him want to go and meet her for himself even more.

"Can I help you?" (Y/N) (Y/L/N) asked the man that she swore appeared in her doorway out of nowhere. He was dressed in an expensive looking three-piece suit with an equally as expensive looking overcoat over top of it, as well as a peaked cap atop his head.

"I'm looking for (Y/N)," the man answered.

"You found her," (Y/N) smiled, setting her book down on the desk to give the man her full attention. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I was directed to you by the front office. They said you're in charge of the donations?"

"That depends...if you're looking to donate to the building, you'll need to speak with our headmaster, but if you're looking to donate directly to the children, you can speak to me," she explained with a smile. She was proud to have been named the head of the board that made sure the children in the school had the tools they needed in order to thrive in the learning environment.

"I'm looking to donate to the children."

"Then you're in the right place," she chirped, "you can come over here and we'll get into the details of it," she said then, waving him over to her desk.

He finally entered the room, and as he walked over, (Y/N) felt the commanding aura that swirled around him. It wasn't one that made her scared, but rather one that filled her with intrigue.

"Can I have the name for the donation?" she asked once she had a piece of paper and a pencil ready.

"It's Thomas Shelby," he answered her, watching as realization sparked in her eyes. He couldn't help but think that Arthur was absolutely right - for once in his life...she was absolutely gorgeous.

"Shelby? I have a student whose last name is Shelby."

"Katie?" Tommy questioned, even though he already knew who she was talking about.

"Yes!" (Y/N) happily answered, "Katie's such a lovely girl. Who is she to you?" she couldn't help but ask.

"She's my niece," he shared, his words making her nod in understanding.

"What sort of donation would you like to make, Mr. Shelby?" she asked then, the pencil ready in her hand.

"I'd like to make it so that all of the children in the year you teach have whatever they need to excel in their classes," he answered, speaking in a nonchalant tone.

"Oh...my goodness," she gasped, stopping what she was writing as the weight of his statement finally clicked in her mind.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, it's just that..." she trailed off, unable to put her thoughts properly into words, "no one has made such a generous donation before."

"I like to make sure that others benefit from the wealth I've gained," he told her in an assured tone. Well that was one of the reasons why he'd made such a donation.

"I...uh, goodness, I don't even know where to start," she confessed, still genuinely baffled by his generosity. "Usually I'd go through with the person donating and we'd make a list of where the funds can be allocated, but with your overwhelming donation, I'm not sure I know what to do first," she added, a sheepish smile present on her face when she looked up at him again.

"It's nothing you'd need to have done in a hurry," he told her, showing that he wasn't upset by her unsuredness.

"I'd hate to waste your time now and make you wait..." she trailed off, biting on the end of the pencil as she tried to think of some ways his funds could be used.

Spending time with you would not be time wasted, Tommy thought to himself just as an idea came to mind: "what if we go for dinner at the end of the week? You can have time to think of ideas and you'll share them with me then," he proposed, his eyebrows raising slightly as he awaited her response.

(Y/N) took a moment to think about his proposition. It'd certainly be a good idea for her to have more time to think about it, and she couldn't say that she'd be opposed to having dinner with this man. "Dinner sounds nice," she gave her answer after a few moments had passed, "I'll come prepared with good ideas," she assured him with a smile.

"I'm sure whatever ideas you'll bring will interest me," Tommy told her, nodding once before he took a step back towards the door.

"Thank you, Mr. Shelby. It's a great pleasure to have you working with us," (Y/N) smiled, still truly overwhelmed by his generosity.

"The pleasure's mine, (Y/N)," he couldn't help but let a smile break onto his lips as he looked over her one last time. They said their goodbyes then, and Tommy exited the school. He was genuinely pleased with the fact that she'd agreed to have dinner with him. It was certainly a step in the right direction with her.

John Shelby entered the school that his children attended two days after his brother did. He was unsuccessful in finding someone who could help direct him to the room he wanted to visit, but thankfully found the woman he was looking for as she walked towards the main doors from down a hallway.

"Miss (Y/L/N)!" he called to her, hoping to get her attention.

To his luck, she heard him. "Can I help you?" she asked with a smile, one that made John feel like he was going to go weak at the knees.

"Yes. You're my daughter's teacher. Her name's Katie Shelby. I wanted to ask how she's been doing in class," he told her the reason behind him being there. Truthfully he couldn't care less about Katie's performance. School wasn't something he was ever interested in, but if it meant he'd be able to talk to an utterly gorgeous woman, he'd give the performance of the century.

"Oh Katie!" (Y/N) answered, her smile growing wider as she recalled one of her students, "she's amazing...such a pleasure to have in class. She's always working hard and staying on top of her assignments," she then gave him a run down on his daughter's performance.

John nodded as she spoke. He had no shame in the fact that he was only half listening to her answer; being too preoccupied with drinking in her appearance. Silence fell between them then as that topic of conversation passed quickly. John didn't want her to leave just yet, so he scrambled for another talking point. "I heard that you met my brother, Arthur, the other day," he said then. It wasn't his best choice of topic, but he hoped it would keep her around. His hopes fell when a look of confusion formed on her pretty face. Shit, John...save yourself here! "He, uh...he told me that he helped you with one of your boxes...?" he ended his statement like it was a question, hoping that she'd show some sort of recollection.

Realization did appear on her face, but the sentence that accompanied it was one that left John confused: "oh...it seems I've met two of your brothers," she informed him, effectively making him wear the same expression she had moments ago. She took the time to explain then: "Thomas came in a few days ago to arrange a generous donation to aid the children who come here."

Fucks sake. John couldn't help but sigh internally. Tommy had already sunk his paws into the territory John thought he'd have a leg up in. "Oh he did?" he decided to play it cool, hoping that his aggravation didn't bubble up to the surface.

"He did. The other teachers and I are all so thankful for the contribution," (Y/N) answered, her smile telling John that he was doing well at masking how he was really feeling.

"Well I'm happy to hear that," John stated, running a hand over his face as he tried to think of a way to divert the conversation away from Tommy. "I can't say enough how happy I am that my daughter has a wonderful, smart, caring teacher like yourself," he said then, deciding to go the compliment route. There were many other things he wanted to include while referring to her, but he didn't want to overdo it.

"Awe thank you, Mr. Shelby. As I've said before, Katie is such a pleasure to have in class," (Y/N) accepted the compliment with grace, a bashful smile forming on her face.

Silence fell around them for a few beats before John spoke again: "you're probably wantin' to get home, so I should probably go," he stated, nodding his head back towards the main doors of the school.

"Oh yes, it's certainly been a long day," she answered with a nod.

"I'll see you around sometime then," John began to say his goodbyes.

"You certainly will," (Y/N) sent him one last smile before John turned and exited the school.

John was thankful to see the majority of his family sitting around the main table of the betting shop when he entered it that evening.

"Where've you been, John Boy?" Arthur asked, everyone's eyes following John as he made his way to an open chair.

"I just left the school," John answered, his face straight as he spoke.

"The school?" Arthur questioned.

"Something happen with one of the children?" Polly asked, her brows furrowed.

"No, everything's fine with them," John quelled her concern.

"Why were you at the school then?" Polly asked another question.

"Ah I know...you were tryin' to see the hot teacher, huh?" Arthur chimed in before John could answer, a grin now present on his face.

John shot a glare in his brother's direction, slightly annoyed by the fact that he was a little too anxious to know. But with all of the eyes in the room on him, he figured he may as well give up. "Yeah, I went to see her."

"Did ya talk to her?" Arthur eagerly asked.

John didn't miss Polly's eyeroll before he answered his brother: "yeah, I did...and I was told that Tommy already went and talked to her." He couldn't help but glance at Tommy from the corner of his eye, seeing if his statement roused any type of reaction from him.

"Why would you have gone to talk to the childrens' teacher, Thomas?" Polly was the one to ask, her eyes now zeroed in on him.

"She told me that he wanted to make a donation to the school," John offered more information, a sour tone still present in his voice.

"Tommy," Polly sighed, bringing her hand up to her forehead.

"We've arranged to have dinner one of these upcoming evenings to discuss it further," Tommy nonchalantly shared more details of his meeting with (Y/N).

"Bloody hell, Tommy," Arthur grumbled, a frown on his face as he shook his head. He'd have no chance in hell with her now.

"Why was this not brought up in a family meeting?" Polly asked a sensible question, seemingly unaware of the brothers' reason behind their responses.

"Because I have decided that we need to start putting back into the city," Tommy answered, an authoritative tone laced into his voice.

"And you thought that the school would be the most logical place to start?" she quirked an eyebrow.

"Why not?"

"You're putting yourself into places you shouldn't be...if this blows up in your face, I won't be here for it," Polly spoke in a firm tone, showing her distaste for his decision.

Tommy held his gaze on her, an uninterested look present in his eyes. He didn't quite care what his aunt had to say about this, he was going to continue on how he saw fit.

Polly held his gaze, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, she rolled her eyes and let out a scoff before turning and stalking over to the door. She stopped before she could grab the handle, abruptly turning to look at the three men sitting at the table. "If any of you make her cry or so much as hurt a single strand of hair on her head..." she paused, pursing her lips as she shook her head slightly, "you will have hell to pay." Her voice was flat, but her tone was serious, and she let no one respond before she opened the door and exited the betting shop.

"Ms. Gray, it's so nice to see you again," (Y/N) said with a smile as she found the older woman standing in the doorway of her classroom. "Is everything ok with Katie? We missed her in class today."

"Katie's fine," Polly quelled the teacher's worry, "she was feeling ill so she stayed home."

"Oh, ok. I hope she gets better soon," (Y/N) offered her regards with a smile, one that Polly reciprocated. "Is there something that you need?"

"Yes," Polly didn't beat around the bush, "my nephew, Tommy, came to speak with you the other day..." she began, trailing off in hopes that (Y/N) would continue.

"Yes, he did!" she took the bait without question, "he made a very generous donation, and then suggested we have dinner to work the smaller points of it out."

"And how did that go?" Polly asked with raised eyebrows.

"Very well," (Y/N) smiled in response, "the children are already benefiting from the money he's given. It was very kind of him to do this."

Nothing Tommy Shelby has done was done just for the sake of 'being kind', Polly thought to herself as she mentally scoffed at the younger woman's statement. "I'm happy to hear that the children are benefitting from it," Polly said in response, keeping her thoughts on her nephew's intentions to herself.

(Y/N) smiled in response, completely overjoyed by the kindness of the Shelby family that she was oblivious to even the mere thought of Tommy having other intentions behind his decision to donate. Nothing else was said then as the women exchanged parting words.

(Y/N) smoothed out her dress as she reached the doors of the establishment. She hoped that the outfit she chose didn't make her over, or under, dressed for the occasion. With a deep breath, she grabbed the handle and opened the door, the sounds of chatter and music smacking her in the face. She entered the pub with a smile, hoping to quickly find a familiar face.

Of course one of the Shelbys quickly found her at the door. It was their re-opening party after all, and a beautiful woman like (Y/N) was most certainly not going to go unnoticed.

"Oi, you came!" Arthur was the first of the brothers to spot her, and a big grin was plastered across his face as he moved over to greet her.

"Yes! This place looks lovely!" she answered, smiling as she looked around the room.

"We made sure to get the best of the best," he boasted, his grin still present. "And speakin' of the best...can I offer one of the best women I've seen a drink?" he smoothly transitioned, his one eyebrow raised as he looked at her.

"I'd love one, thank you," she answered, smiling at his kindness.

"Come on then," he stated, offering her his arm so that he could lead her to the bar.

She accepted it, walking over to an open seat so that he could go around the bar and get her a drink. She thanked him again when he set it down in front of her, and just as he leaned up against the bar, ready to chat with her, Isiah came to him with a matter of business. He left her with a slight frown and an 'excuse me, love,' before going off with the younger man. (Y/N) sat by herself, sipping her drink and enjoying the revelry around her. She wasn't alone for long though.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)...I didn't think I'd see you here," shock was present in John Shelby's voice as he came up beside her.

"I decided to stop in and see what all of the talk was about," she smiled at him.

"Well we're certainly happy to have you here," he grinned at her, trying so hard not to give her a once over. "Say why don't you come and share a dance with me?" he suggested.

"Oh, I couldn't," she turned down his offer, her shyness creeping in.

"Come on...a quick dance wouldn't hurt," he didn't quite give up hope.

"I'm rather terrible at dancing."

"You've not seen me dance then."

(Y/N) bit her lip to conceal her giggles, surprised with how forward he was.

"Come on..." John coaxed her, hand outstretched in her direction. She was hesitant, but accepted it, allowing him to lead her to the floor. "Just follow my lead and you'll be fine," he said, assuming the position before he began to lead her in a similar dance to what the other partygoers were doing.

(Y/N) couldn't help but smile as she danced around the floor with John. She certainly was having fun, not really thinking about what she looked like or what others thought. John couldn't believe that he was dancing with one of the most beautiful women in the room.

They danced for about two songs before (Y/N) excused herself, wanting to go have a seat. John allowed her to go, deciding that he'd go into the snug and check on Finn - who he knew was sneaking stronger drinks than what his brothers originally told him he could have.

(Y/N) found a newly opened seat at the bar as soon as she came to it. She was bummed that her drink had been lost, but she didn't need to worry about that for too long.

"You made it," Tommy Shelby's voice came from her left, making her turn slightly to see him approaching her from behind the bar.

"I did, thanks for inviting me," (Y/N) smiled at him, "this party's amazing!" she commented, glancing around the room.

"It is," Tommy agreed once she focused on him again, "can I get you something to drink?"

"Please," she smiled kindly at the offer, watching as he went about grabbing a bottle from the shelf. "I wanted to also thank you, again, for the dinner and the donation. The children have already gotten some of the supplies that we've received, and they're loving them," she shared some information once he came back with a glass for her.

"That's good news," he nodded, taking a drink from his glass then. "You know I was thinking maybe...maybe you and I could have dinner again, without the need to talk about the donations this time," he proposed, watching her intently as he waited for a response.

(Y/N) couldn't stop her eyes from lighting up at his suggestion. She had a lovely time with him at their first dinner. "I'd like that," she answered with a smile.

"Figured we could get to know each other better."

"That would be lovely," she agreed, giggling slightly at the fact that he was practically reading her mind.

The two then went about planning the dinner, agreeing on a time and place. (Y/N) couldn't help but feel giddy when he suggested a restaurant that was far more classy than the first place they'd met. If she wasn't excited before...she certainly was now.

As they spoke more, Polly Gray kept a close eye on them from across the room. She'd been watching the brothers all evening as they tried their hand at her. It became clear to her, though, that Tommy had ended out on top as she watched them converse at the bar. She could easily tell from how (Y/N) was invested in their conversation, giggling and leaning closer to him when he'd speak, that what he was doing was being received well. John and Arthur wouldn't have much of a chance now.

-One Year Later-

Slowly, Tommy lifted the veil up to reveal (Y/N)'s smiling face. He draped it over her head and let his eyes dance across her features, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he felt the joy radiating from her.

"We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) and Thomas Michael Shelby," the officiant began, commanding the attention of everyone in the church.

Ever since the evening of the party at the Garrison, (Y/N) and Tommy found themselves wrapped up in a whirlwind of a romance. Tommy proposed after five months of them being together, knowing that he wasn't going to find another woman like her. They spent five months being engaged and doing a great amount of traveling - it was the summer holiday for (Y/N), so she was able to follow Tommy wherever he went. Now they were standing at the altar in front of a great number of guests who were anxiously waiting to see them pronounce their love for each other.

Well...two of the guests were exactly anxious. John and Arthur sat on Tommy's side of the church, watching as the ceremony commenced. Both were happy for their brother, but they'd be lying if they said that they weren't bummed that it wasn't them up with (Y/N).

Everyone stood up and celebrated as the officiant pronounced Tommy and (Y/N) 'man and wife', and they shared their first kiss as a married couple.

"As always..." John started, elbowing Arthur in the ribcage as they both clapped for their brother, "Tommy gets the girl, and we've gotta sit back and watch."

Arthur couldn't help but snort as he heard what John had to say. "You're right, John boy," he agreed, shaking his head but nonetheless continuing clapping.

No matter what happened, or how hard John and Arthur tried to get ahead, Tommy would forever be the brother that always wins.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

[lenoraah]

𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘥𝘢𝘥

pairing - dad!daniel ricciardo x mom!reader

summary - when Daniel decides to let reader sleep in, he has to wrangle four girls to make it a stress free morning for his wife

a/n - Daniel and Carlos girl dad supreme; no judgement will be excepted 🤍 kid order : Adelaide (9), Cherish (7), Briar (5), Marina (2)

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“We have to be quiet if we don’t want to wake up mommy.”

“Why?”

Daniel sighs, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. Now was when he questioned why toddlers were destined to have a ‘why?’ phase. Well, that’s why they called it the terrible twos he guessed.

Marina tilts her head to the side and opens her mouth. Right before she asks another question Daniel picks her up and sets her on his hip.

“No more questions okay?”

A chorus of okays and nods is what Daniel gets as a response. He grins and the girls giggle, happily clinging onto their father.

Daniel leads his little group into the living room and sits Marina and Briar on the couch. He quickly finds a show that will keep the two younger kids entertained and lowers the volume before turning to face Adelaide and Cherish.

“Can the two of you please get changed?” The two older girls nod and run off, their curls bouncing up and down.

Daniel takes out the basket that Y/n keeps in the drawer under the TV. In the basket are brushes and hair mousse, hair ties and scrunchies. Y/n thought it would be a good idea to keep some stuff in the living room since all four girls had inherited Daniel’s curly hair type.

Marina and Briar don’t even bother to protest as Daniel does their hair as their eyes are glued onto the TV screen. He fixes Marina’s curls into two braids and does Briar into a half-up-half-down style.

Adelaide and Cherish run back into the living room, changed and hair done. Adelaide braided her sister’s hair while she did her own hair in a simple ponytail.

“Daddy,”

“Hm?” Daniel turns his head to face Marina. The toddler blinks at her dad a few times before blowing a raspberry in his face.

Daniel and the girls burst into laughter and Marina giggles seeing that she had made her dad and sisters laugh. The five of them are so caught up in their moment that they don’t notice Y/n walk into the living room.

“Having fun without me?” She smiles, leaning against the door frame.

Daniel and the girls flip their heads around and smile when they see their mother and wife. Adelaide, Cherish, Briar and Marina all run towards their mother, leaving Daniel alone.

While the kids hug their mom, Daniel looks at his wife up and down. The way she’s holding Marina on her hip, Briar by her leg and just holding Adelaide and Cherish close to her. The fact that she’s wearing one of his sweatshirts and a pair of sweatpants make a smirk appear on his face.

“Uh, how about we go out for breakfast?” Y/n suggests, noticing the look in her husband’s eyes. She raises an eyebrow at him, a small smile appearing on her face.

Y/n gets answered by a chorus of yeses and cheers. She winks at Daniel and he blushes a little. The couple’s eyes never leave each other as the both go in different directions with two of their daughters.

This was going to be a fun day.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x female reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 imagine #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #original writing #original post

[twitchmattenthusiast]

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍, chris sturniolo !

summary: (fem oc!) avoids chris for a full week after having a sex dream about him. chris cant take it anymore and convinces matt and nick to help him get her alone at a party.

contains: soft / kinda rough dom!chris, slightt mommy & daddy kink if you squint, mentions of sex dream, riding & fingering.

requested: yes. irl bsf requested this one so this one’s for u bff 😘

"where the fuck are we going?"

"don’t you trust us, b?"

matt’s faux-exasperated tone had bianca throwing him a side-eye. nick, who stood to the left of bianca, chuckled, "i don't think she does matt."

it wasn't that bianca didn't trust them. she’s known the triplets literally her whole life, and matt and nick are like the older brothers she's never had. on a normal day, she would literally follow them blindly because that’s exactly what the trio were: the blind leading the blind. but with the current circumstances and the fact that she has been avoiding their brother like the literal plague, bianca can’t help but feel a little bit suspicious.

matt and nick had found bianca hiding—or at least trying to. it was always easy to find bianca at a party, considering after two drinks she was close to literally getting on top of a table and singing out of tune. anyway, she had been hiding with a group of her college friends that none of the triplets could even remember the names of, considering she didn’t hang out with them much. the fact that bianca was even at a party with them in the first place was weird; she always found it boring, but she needed an escape, and cheap beer with some questionable company had to do it.

bianca was sitting with one of her college friends, pouring another drink for herself, when matt and nick appeared out of literally nowhere, which confused bianca because why would matt and nick ever be at a party one of her college friends were throwing? grabbed her plastic cup from her hands, ignored her protests, and started dragging her out of the living room.

dragging bianca along, each one linked to her arms from both sides, passing in between the crowd of bodies gathered in the living room, occasionally having to push a drunk jock out of the way, and guiding her up the stairs into the upstairs hallway. they moved fast, and the people around her passed by like a sea of blurred faces.

bianca was suddenly thrusted forward when she reached one of the doors and were pushed inside by matt, who flashed her an apologetic smile, shrugging, "i’m sorry!" he said though he didn’t seem apologetic at all.

bianca glared at the door; she didn’t even need to turn around; she already knew who was sitting on the bed, as who else would convince their equally idiotic brothers to do this?

she sighed as she turned around, reasoning with herself that as much as she tried, she unfortunately couldn't avoid her best friend forever. sitting on the neatly made bed of some stranger's room was chris sturniolo, looking like a kicked puppy as he followed bianca’s eyes, watching as they averted around the room as she still stood at the door, unsure of what to do.

chris happily broke the silence, though. “so now i have to literally kidnap my best friend just to talk to her?”

leaning back into the cold wooden surface of the door, bianca tried to sound as unbothered as possible, knowing very well she was about to crack. "i wouldn't call that much of a kidnapping. matt and nick were giggling like literal idiots.”

when chris didn't answer, merely raising an eyebrow, unamused, she tried again. "so, uh... what is this, exactly? christopher. seven minutes in heaven? you know this isn't seventh grade anymore, right?"

“no, if it were seventh grade, you wouldn’t be ignoring me and acting weird.”

"i’m not acting weird.”

"then why can't you just look at me?" chris asked, frustration creeping into his voice.

"i-"

but as soon as chris opened his mouth, he couldn’t stop talking. “you’ve been avoiding me like the fucking plague all week, and i need to know why."

bianca wasn’t avoiding chris.

or at least that’s what bianca has been telling him ever since he first confronted her about it. he showed up at her house a week ago, climbing through her window as he refused to use the door like a normal person, planning to stay up all night with her because og fortnite had just dropped, though she made an excuse about being sick and ushered him out of her house, causing him to be very confused because she looked fine at school earlier.

he brushed it off and didn’t text her the next day. when bianca was sick, she liked to be left alone; she hated people being around her when she was sick. but when three days had passed and she still hadn’t contacted him once, he attempted to call her, asking her what was wrong and why she was avoiding him. she couldn’t bear to tell him the truth, so she said she was still sick, and then hastily hung up the phone, avoiding his texts afterwards.

in school, when he attempted to approach bianca at her locker in hopes of talking to his best friend, whom he hadn’t seen or spoken to in four days, she rushed towards her class, pretending she didn’t notice him; she was running out of excuses.

the truth was, bianca couldn’t look her best friend in the eye anymore, let alone be in his presence, after the dream she had of him.

she sighed and looked down at the floor. “it’s nothing, chris; i’m just confused, okay? you didn’t do anything  wrong; i promise it’s just...” she trailed off awkwardly.

there was a shift in the air, and the tension dropped as chris’s face lightened. hearing that bianca wasn’t mad at him was a relief. he rose from his place on the bed and walked over to her, stopping right in front of her.

“hey b?” he gently lifted her chin up, looking deeply into her eyes. “i’m not mad at you, okay? i was just worried; we used to tell each other everything, and then you started acting like this, and it’s been driving me crazy because i didn’t know what to think," he admitted.

"i know; i’m sorry." bianca finally mustered up the courage to meet his gaze. her eyes softened slightly at his concern. "it’s just... well, you know how crazy dreams can be sometimes," she added sheepishly.

"bianca..." chris sighed softly before wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her close against his chest. he rested his chin on top of her head, savouring the familiar scent of her hair. "i promise i won't judge you for whatever it was. just, please, talk to me about it." he pleaded softly, hoping she would finally break down and tell him what had been bothering her all week.

bianca sighed, her body leaning into his warmth. "okay, fine," she muttered reluctantly. taking a deep breath, she began to explain, "it’s just that... well, i had this weird dream about us... you know?" she stuttered, her cheeks turning crimson red.

chris raised an eyebrow. “oh yeah?” he asked. his sweet tone started to fade away as he smirked slightly.

bianca just nodded her head, missing the smirk in his tone as he asked, “what happened in the dream?" though he kind of had an idea already, and he’d be lying if he said the images weren’t going straight to his dick.

"in the dream, we were both, you know..." bianca managed to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper.

“oh, i think i know.” chris’s smirk grew wider at her discomfort, his eyes glittering with excitement. "and what happened next?" he prompted, eagerly waiting for her reaction.

bianca swallowed hard, her heart racing faster than normal. "uh, i was riding you.” she admitted weakly.

 “that sounds hot."

 bianca’s eyes widened as she pulled away from chris. “what?” she asked in shock. she couldn’t believe she was even admitting this to him.

“you heard me.” chris smirked.

bianca’s face reddened slightly, and chris smirked. “what do you say we make your little dream come true, hm?"

bianca bit her lower lip, her eyes darting around the room nervously. "chris, we can't!" she protested weakly.

"no?” chris raised his eyebrows. “if i pulled your panties aside, you’re telling me you wouldn’t be dripping?” he asked, noting how her thighs were pressed together.

"i... i..." stuttering, bianca couldn't find the words to argue anymore. her body was betraying her, and the warmth between her legs confirmed it all too well.

"come on, ma,” chris said as his hands trailed down towards her ass, squeezing them tightly. “made you feel good in your dream, hm? let me make you feel good in real life.”

unable to resist any longer, bianca nodded, and chris grinned triumphantly. he pulled her closer, pressing his lips to hers and kissing her hungrily, their tongues tangling together in a messy dance. chris suddenly motioned for her to jump, and she instantly complied, jumping and wrapping her legs around chris’s waist as he kissed her harder, walking towards the bed and pushing her onto it. he pulled apart from her lips, his lips covered in her lipstick, though he didn’t seem to care as he said, “tell me what i did to you in your dream, ma.”

"y-you were kissing my neck, and then you started to undress me slowly,” she gasped as chris’s lips attached to her neck, bitting, licking, and kissing her skin. his hands trailed down her body, making their way to her back as he unzipped her dress effortlessly while still kissing her. she gasped as the dress fell and his hands started to cup her breasts over her bra.

“like this, ma?” he asked.

"mmm..." bianca groaned, enjoying the sensation of his hands on her breasts. "yes, just like that," she managed to croak out between moans.

"good girl," chris praised, pulling away from her neck long enough to whisper into her ear, "now tell me what happened next." he nibbled lightly on her earlobe before sucking it softly, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin.

he continued to tease her nipples through her bra, making them harden further. "come on, mommy,” he teased, knowing that was a secret kink of hers that he heard her overshare one time. “don’t be shy; tell me what i did next."

she couldn’t help it. the use of the word mommy always made her feel some type of way, so she no longer held back. "you pulled my panties down, and you fingered me."

"that’s a good girl," chris praised as he finally took her lacy bra off and sucked on her nipple harshly before turning his attention to her wetness. he began to rub slow circles around her clit through her underwear, creating waves of pleasure that radiated throughout her body. "tell me how bad you want me to touch you there, ma," he demanded huskily.

bianca moaned loudly, her body arching into his touch. "please, chris. i need you to touch me." she begged, her voice hoarse with desire.

chris grinned triumphantly, his eyes glittering with satisfaction. he hooked his fingers underneath her underwear and pulled them down slowly, revealing her smooth, shaven pussy to him. "just like that," he praised before lowering his head and sucking her clit between his lips, his tongue flicking it teasingly.

bianca moaned so loudly that chris had to place his hand over her mouth. "you need to be quiet, b. don’t want people to hear us, do you?” he asked as he inserted a finger and wasted no time in moving it quickly in and out of her, smirking as she threw her head back.

"after all, that would mean i’d have to stop, and you don’t want me to stop now, do you, baby?”

bianca nodded frantically, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "no, please don't stop." she begged, her body trembling with desire.

chris chuckled darkly, his finger moving faster inside of her, hitting her g-spot just right. "you’re such a naughty girl, bianca," he teased before suddenly stopping, leaving her hanging on edge. "but i’ll reward you for being so good." with that, he slowly inserted another finger alongside the first one, stretching her tight entrance as he began to thrust them in and out of her wet pussy.

bianca whimpered softly, her nails digging into chris’s back for support. "more, please, give me more," she begged, her voice shaking with need.

"mhm, i don’t know, ma,” chris teased. "is this better than your dream?” he asked.

"yes, yes, it's better," bianca panted, her voice barely above a whisper.

chris chuckled again, his fingers picking up the pace inside of her and hitting her g-spot harder and faster. "that’s a good girl," he praised, his voice husky with desire. "now, spread your legs wider for me."

bianca complied, spreading her legs apart as wide as they could go, exposing her sensitive folds to him. her body trembled in anticipation, begging for more.

chris didn't disappoint her. he added another finger, stretching her tight pussy even further. "do you like that?" he asked, his voice gruff with lust.

bianca nodded. “yes, chris, i love it,” she moaned, her eyes rolling back as she felt her legs start to shake. “chris, fuck, i’m-“

"cum for me, baby."

with one final push, bianca’s body convulsed violently, and she cried out his name as waves of pure ecstasy washed over her. her juices coated his hand and arm, leaving a sticky mess on the sheets.

chris smirked and lowered his head to kiss her sweetly on the lips. “you did so well, you know that?" he told her, his voice husky with satisfaction. as bianca caught her breath, he undressed himself quickly, revealing his hardened dick, which was dripping with pre-cum. "we’re not done yet, though, ma."

bianca moaned at the sight; she didn’t expect him to be that big. chris chuckled at her reaction and attached their lips together again. bianca moaned into the kiss sucking on his tongue as chris flipped them over so she was on top. she broke away from the kiss and looked at him in confusion.

“wha-“

he stopped her. "if i remember correctly, you said you rode me in your dream, hm?” he asked as she nodded her head.

chris grinned. "well, it’s also my dream for you to ride me. wanna see those tits bounce for me, ma.”

she nodded nervously, her hands shaking as she reached down to guide his cock into her tight entrance. slowly at first, bianca began to lower herself onto him, groaning softly as the head of his cock brushed against her sensitive spot.

“oh fuck," she gasped, her eyes wide with surprise and pleasure. "chris, you're huge."

“that’s it, ma,” he moaned back, his hands on her hips, guiding her up and down his length. "take it all."

bianca moaned and sank right down onto his lap, the pair both groaning as they looked down and realised their bodies were perfectly aligned. she slowly rode him up and down, her breasts swaying enticingly with each thrust.

his hands gripped her hips tightly, guiding her movements while his tongue traced along her neck and collarbone.

“that’s it baby," he panted, "ride me like you mean it."

bianca moved even faster, throwing her head back. “feels so good, daddy,” she moaned, and chris’s eyes darkened.

"that’s it, ma," he growled, his hands moving to cup her ass firmly, encouraging her to ride him harder.

bianca picked up the pace, her breasts slapping against his chest with each thrust. the rhythmic motion of their bodies created a symphony of sounds that filled the room—moans, gasps, and the wet slapping of flesh against flesh. their combined moans echoed off the walls, making them both lose themselves.

"i’m so close, chris." bianca gasped as he sucked on her nipple harshly.

"me too, baby," chris groaned, his own climax nearing. he increased the speed of his thrusts, matching her rhythm perfectly. their bodies slapped against each other in sync, creating a perfect rhythm of pleasure and desire.

bianca’s orgasm built up quickly, and she cried out his name as another powerful wave of ecstasy washed over her. her tight pussy contracted around his cock, milking him dry. when she finally came down from her high, she collapsed on top of him, panting heavily.

chris followed suit moments later, his own release filling her up completely. they lay there for a moment, their breathing gradually returning to normal.

“fuck that was.” bianca stuttered to out of it to even form a sentence.

chris chuckled and slowly pulled out of her. he headed towards the bathroom in the room, returned a moment later with a warm washcloth, and began gently wiping the mess they made off her thighs. bianca smiled softly, and once he was done, he helped her put her panties and bra back on.

he pecked her lips softly. "you okay?” he asked.

“never been better," she replied.

“good.” chris smiled. “but next time something happens, promise you’ll tell me instead of avoiding me?”

“if this is what happens afterwards, then I'll be telling you about every dream i have.”

｡°✩

not a chris girl but this could of single handedly converted me

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 50 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley surprises you with something at the hospital tour that leaves you smiling. And you fall asleep that night in the one place he didn't know would make him even more sure he wanted to marry you. He has the ring ready to go, excited to propose to you at the air show, but the look on your face leaves him wondering if it's too soon.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley smiled in contentment as you laced your fingers with his. The tour of the children's hospital which was affiliated with the air show was interesting to him, but as someone who worked in pediatric medicine, you were enthralled. "Daddy, look," you said, pulling him off to the side as the tour guide started to lead the group down a flight of stairs. "Noah would love this." 

Bradley was getting some looks from another man in the tour group, because you clearly had no shame when you called him that in front of other people. "Princess," he whispered, kissing your ear as you pointed out the window to the colorful courtyard filled with toys and jungle gyms. "Every time you call me Daddy, that guy smirks at me."

"Who?" you asked, turning to glance at the rest of the group headed for the stairwell. "The one in the green shirt?"

"Yeah," Bradley grunted, watching him look at you. 

You laughed softly and turned back to Bradley. "He just wishes someone would call him Daddy."

"You're probably not wrong," he replied with a smile. "The group is leaving without us."

"We can catch up," you whispered, wrapping your arms around him in his rough flight suit. You were a soft and warm presence, your cheek coming to rest on his patch that said ROOSTER. "Thanks for bringing me. I didn't want to have to call Jake and hit him up."

Bradley could tell you were trying not to laugh. "What did I tell you about acting like a brat?"

He rubbed soft circles against your back and you sighed. "Why would I stop now when you so clearly enjoy it?" 

Bradley groaned. "Let's get going. The tour is almost over, and then I can load you up with champagne and take you home."

You and he had to rush down the stairs to rejoin the group, and of course the man in the green shirt was looking at Bradley like he'd just fucked you in the middle of the hallway or something. But your fingers were laced with his again, so it didn't matter. 

You ended up asking the tour guide so many questions along the way that he learned your name and that you were a pediatric nurse, and he answered you in great detail each time. The hospital provided state of the art treatment for children, and when the group walked past an indoor play area where some kids were coloring, you paused and waved to them. They waved back, and you whispered, "Why does everything remind me of Noah?"

"Because you're his mom," Bradley replied without really thinking about it. That was the most natural response. Why did you care so much? Because you were his mom. Why did you prioritize Noah above everything else? Because you were his mom. Part of the reason Bradley let himself indulge in those early fantasies about you was because his son fell in love with you first. 

"I miss him a little bit," you whispered, nibbling on your glossy lip. Bradley brought your hand up to his lips and kissed along your purple nails. 

"I'm sure he misses you, too. But he's probably getting in bed by now. Let's enjoy the rest of the night?" Bradley asked. 

"I'm spending it with you. Of course I'm going to enjoy it."

-------------------------

The cocktail reception was beautiful. That colorful courtyard that caught your eye had been lit up with strings of white lights, and the tour group had been led outside into the warm evening air. After two glasses of champagne, you were still pouting over the fact that there were no berries at the bottom, but you were also feeling nice and loose.  "Maybe I should go tell the green shirt guy's wife that he'd love it if she called him Daddy," you remarked as Bradley brought over a plate of hors d'oeuvres to share with you. 

Bradley gave you a bland look in response as he dipped shrimp into cocktail sauce and set the plate down on the tall table where you stood. "If you go over there and say anything involving the word Daddy, they will probably try to get you to be their third."

Heat rushed to your cheeks immediately. "Bradley!"

He just shrugged in response and offered you the plate. You plucked up your own piece of shrimp wondering how on earth a comment like that from your boyfriend could make you want to take him home to bed immediately. But it did. And your desire for him only grew as you watched him unzip his flight suit and pull out his checkbook. 

"Please. You know what that thing does to me," you whispered, fumbling your food before you managed to get it to your mouth. 

Bradley laughed as he uncapped a pen. "My checkbook? The thing you always make fun of?"

You shook your head and took another bite of shrimp. "You know I think all of your old man stuff is sexy. But what do you need a check for?"

He examined your face before he leaned on the table, pen hovering over the check. "You said Jake was going to donate five thousand bucks if he got to fly in the air show?"

"That's what he told me."

Bradley hummed and wrote the check out to the children's hospital for six thousand dollars. "Can't have him showing us up. You wanna sign it?"

You were wiping your fingers on a cocktail napkin and admiring your nails as you said, "How am I supposed to sign your check?"

He set the pen down on the checkbook and pushed it across the table toward you before picking up the plate and eating an eggroll in two big bites, eyes firmly on you. He was acting weird now, but you dragged your gaze away from his face down to the table and gasped. The top corner of the check said BRADLEY BRADSHAW in bold font, but now your name was listed right under his along with the address of the cute, blue bungalow in Coronado where you lived. 

"Why did you do that?" you asked, staring at your name. 

"Because I trust you. And now I can drag you down into my deep, dark, embarrassing, millennial rabbit hole where I still pay for things with checks and don't know how to use my phone. And you can pay for daycare when I'm not home."

You tried to fight it, but a huge smile broke out on your face. "Casey is going to hate this."

"Casey isn't going to know what hit her when she sees you next week, Princess," he said as you signed your name on the bottom of the check and tore it free. You tucked yourself against his side and looked at the two names together while he polished off the rest of the food on the plate. 

"Thanks for letting me be your date tonight," you told him, and he laughed. 

"Who else would I have asked to come with me?"

"Skittles."

He kissed the top of your head. "Okay. You got me there. Ready to hand in our check and go home before the guy in the green shirt and his wife get any more ideas?"

"Yeah. Let's go home."

------------------------------

Bradley gave you a piggyback ride in from the Bronco while also carrying your high heels and your bag. He could tell you were a little tipsy by the way you were giggling softly next to his ear and running your nose through his hair. "Daddy," you whispered as he put his key in the front door. "Are you going to fuck me on the living room floor or in bed?"

"Shh," he coaxed, pushing the door open to reveal Amelia sitting on the couch, reading a comic book. "Can you behave for like five minutes, please?"

You erupted into laughter as you held onto him, and even Amelia was laughing as Bradley asked, "How was Noah?"

"Great," she replied, tossing her comic into her backpack. "He had two slices of pizza. I put the leftovers in the fridge. I just wiped him down instead of giving him a bath, and he was asleep by 8:30."

Bradley shook his head as you kissed his ear. "This one should have also been in bed by 8:30," he mumbled, making you laugh more. He set you down so he could get his wallet out.

"Thanks, Amelia," you told her kindly before turning back to Bradley and smirking. "Please give her cash and not a check, old man. I'm going to give Noah a goodnight kiss."

Bradley shook his head and handed Amelia what was owed for the night while she laughed. "Thank you," he told her, opening the door and watching her walk to her car. He stood there until she started the engine, and he made sure she pulled away with a wave. 

Skittles was already curled up in her bed, but you were nowhere to be found when he got to the bedroom. "Princess?" he called out with a chuckle, doubling back to the bathroom. Not three minutes ago you were all smiles, and he was getting ready for you to tease him relentlessly before maybe getting that black dress off of you. But as he unzipped his flight suit a few inches and peeked inside Noah's bedroom door, he found you. 

A beam of moonlight shone in through the window, illuminating your face and Noah's as both of you slept curled up together in the twin sized bed. Bradley stood in the doorway for a long time, trying to decide what to do with you as his smile grew. This was all he wanted. Just his family. He strode the rest of the way into the room and brushed Noah's soft curls back from his forehead before kissing him there. Then he leaned over and kissed your cheek. "I love you," he whispered to you both, ultimately deciding to leave you with his son for the night. 

Bradley moved your phone charger into Noah's room along with your phone which he took out of your purse. You had given him your passcode before, but he hated using it without your permission. When he entered it, he saw a few new texts from your coworkers and one from Nat. That made him smile as he set an alarm for 8:00 to ensure you and Noah would get to the air show in time to see him fly. His plans were relying on that. 

He kissed you both once more each and left your charging phone on Noah's dresser before he went to get himself ready for bed. He groaned, remembering the ungodly early hour he had to get himself out the door in the morning. At least you could follow him to Miramar a little later. Before he climbed into bed, he made sure he had everything ready that he would need for the air show: a clean flight suit, phone, wallet, and the ring box.

----------------------------

"Mommy!" 

You opened your eyes to find Noah giggling right in front of you. As you looked around, you realized you were in his bedroom. When you sat up, you noticed your phone alarm was going off.

"Why did you sleep in my bed?" he asked as you reached for your phone to silence it. Amongst your notifications, you saw a text from Bradley and quickly opened it.

Bradley Bradshaw: Good morning, Princess. You looked so adorable in bed with Noah, I didn't want to move you. I hope you slept well, and I can't wait to see you both after I fly at 11:00.

You tossed your phone aside and kissed Noah on the top of his head. He was wearing his favorite dinosaur pajamas, and he looked so perfectly sweet. "I guess I needed some extra cuddles last night, and I knew just where to find them."

He let you pull him against you for about twenty seconds before he started to wriggle away. "I'm hungry. I want to see where Skittles is."

You watched him take off down the hallway as you rolled onto your back. You were still in your black dress, and you could barely remember getting home last night and seeing Amelia reading a comic book. You stretched and made your way into the kitchen relieved that you had plenty of time to get you and Noah dressed in your matching outfits and on the road to the air show. You turned on the coffee maker as you watched him petting Skittles by the back door. 

"Here, let's see if she needs to go outside," you said as you slid the door open for the dog. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Cereal and probably some fruit."

"Good choice."

Once you had Noah and Skittles both settled with some food, you kissed him on the forehead. "I'm going to take a really fast shower while you eat, okay? Just stay at the table, and I'll be right back." Noah nodded as he ate one of the pieces of banana you'd cut up for him. You dashed into the bathroom, cranking the shower to hot and stripped out of your dress and the lacy underwear Bradley didn't even get to see. But there would be plenty of time for that sort of thing later. 

You started to make a mental list of everything you needed to take with you to the air show. You had some snacks already prepared, and you'd need the beach blanket from the hallway closet. Sunblock and maybe a towel or two. Earplugs for you and the noise canceling headphones for Noah. Did you need to take some tampons with you? What was today? It was Saturday. Should you take tampons?

You dropped your razor with a clatter as you spun around and got yourself rinsed off while your heart pounded. You turned off the water and stood in the middle of the bathroom, dripping water onto the mat. When you reached for a towel, you cracked the door open. "Noah? You still okay?"

"Yeah, Mommy."

You wrapped yourself up and tried to remember if you'd had your period even once since Bradley flushed your birth control down the toilet at the lake house. No. No you had not. Not even once. But the thing you had been doing was having almost nonstop unprotected sex with your boyfriend. 

"Shit." You brushed your teeth and started moving as fast as you could while your brain was in such a fog. You needed to get dressed and find your car keys. You needed to go to the pharmacy. "Noah," you called out as you ran around. "We need to run to the store as soon as you're done eating!"

Somehow you managed to get yourself dressed and somewhat presentable looking, and then you pulled the yellow shirt over Noah's head that matched the flowers on your dress. You couldn't tell if you were more nervous or more excited at the thought of buying a pregnancy test with your Princess credit card, but in that moment, you really did feel like you were Noah's mom. He reached for your hand, and you led him outside to your car. Bradley put you fully in charge of his son, and you'd do anything for this child. Even the idea of Noah as a big brother had you buckling him in faster. 

"We'll just run to the store and then come back home really quickly," you whispered in excitement. 

"I want to go to the air show and see Daddy," he whined. "You promised."

You kissed his chubby cheek. "You're right. I promised. And I will always keep my promises. We'll go to the air show right after we stop back home."

-----------------------------

Bradley was restless. He originally thought this was a great idea, zipping the engagement ring inside one of the many pouches on his flight suit. But he kept checking relentlessly to make sure it was still there. And all he'd really done all morning was wait around after he landed his Super Hornet in Miramar. The other pilots were fine. They seemed nice. But they probably thought Bradley was a complete basketcase. Now he was pacing the��tarmac, anxious to get into the air as he checked his phone again. 

My Princess: Hey, Daddy. Noah and I arrived! We have a good spot in the grass on the west end of the runway. Can't wait to see you fly!

This was good. It was good that you were already here. He should be in the air in about thirty minutes. He knew what he needed to do. The flight formation was ingrained in his mind. It would be a snap. 

But he needed to get this fucking ring on your finger. He should have just proposed the night he brought it home. He'd thought about it then and every day since. For some reason he'd convinced himself that waiting for today was his best move, but now he couldn't even remember why. God, he just wanted to hear you say yes. He wanted to know you would be his and Noah's forever. He wanted to sit up with you later and hold you on his lap while the two of you read over the adoption paperwork. 

"Fuck," he muttered, checking the time again. It was so obvious from the very beginning that you belonged with him, and he'd fought it for long enough that he had hurt you. Some of the decisions he made weren't the best, but as soon as he picked you up from that fraternity party, he knew that was never going to happen again. 

"Rooster? It's almost time to go."

"Yeah," he agreed, patting the pocket of his flight suit again. "I'm ready."

As he climbed up the ladder into his jet, he glanced toward the west end of the runway. The entire event was packed, and it was impossible to pick the two of you out, but he waved nonetheless, hoping maybe you could see him. This combination of nerves was new to him. Settling into the seat and running his fingers along the controls was always exhilarating, but now he was starting to think you'd say it was too soon to be engaged. He had been trying to make his intentions clear for weeks, getting little to no resistance from you. But there was always a chance.

"It's time!"

He closed his canopy after securing all of his harnesses and strapping his helmet into place. At least you and Noah would be able to see him fly for the first time. Then even if you said it was too soon, you'd know he was ready when you were, and that there was a ring waiting. 

The sound of his engines roaring to life brought him comfort and kept him feeling grounded even as he started to taxi. He took off past the packed end of the runway where you were surely sitting, and he knew you'd point him out to Noah. Maybe he was sitting all snuggled up on your lap with his big headphones on. The cozy idea made Bradley want to be down there as he pulled his first roll high above the ground in tandem with the other pilots. The comms crackled to life as he banked out toward the water. 

The sky was clear in every direction; the perfect day for flying. He felt calmer now as he cut graceful movements through the air past two of the others, and even though you were just a speck on the ground from this altitude, he knew you could see him. And he knew you were perfect. And he somehow knew you'd say yes.

As soon as he landed to the crowds of people along the runway cheering and waving Navy flags in the air, he taxied his jet back where it belonged and climbed out as soon as the ladder was available. When he saluted the officer in charge he asked, "Am I dismissed?" He didn't want to wait another minute as he once again checked inside that zipper pouch. 

"You're dismissed, Lieutenant. Thank you."

He started off at a bit of a brisk walk that turned into a jog. He passed through the guarded chain link fence lined with barbed wire and turned in the direction where you said you were sitting, texting as he dodged spectators in the crowd. 

I'm on my way to the two of you.

Without waiting for a response, he moved as quickly as he could past food vendors and flight simulations. All he could picture was the way you'd slept all night curled up with Noah, because when you were with him, everything that was important to Bradley was all in one place, and it made him ache. His flight suit felt restricting now, and he wished he'd taken the time to unzip the top of it. But he had his mission in mind, and nothing was going to stop him. 

Eyes searching the crowd for your floral dress pattern and Noah's yellow shirt, he finally saw you pop up from the blanket you were sitting on to wave at him. A smile found Bradley's face as his feet carried him in your direction. You were holding Noah's small hand in yours as people started wandering around the area before the next set of aircrafts took off. Bradley wiped his brow with his sleeve as he got close enough to see your purple nails as you picked Noah up to wave.

"Hi, Daddy!" his son called out, the noise canceling headphones slipping out of place as you laughed and removed them for the time being. The headphones dropped from your fingertips and landed on the blanket just as Bradley wrapped both of you in a hug.

"Hey, Bub," he said as Noah climbed into his grasp. 

"We saw you in the air!" you gushed, wrapping your arms around him. "Noah loved it so much."

His lips were on yours instantly as his fingers flexed against your back. With one hand around each of you, Bradley wished he'd taken the ring out on his jog over. Now he was out of breath and sweaty and trying to juggle Noah in one arm while the child talked a mile a minute about the airplanes. Because when Bradley broke the kiss and looked at your face, all he wanted to do was hand you that ring and his heart and his life and beg you to always be with them. 

"Princess," he rasped, leaning in to kiss your forehead as he pulled his hand back to find that zipper. He fumbled a bit with it as you bit your lip a little nervously, so he leaned in to kiss your cheek before turning his attention to Noah. "I really need your help, Bub."

"With what?" he asked, arms still wrapped around Bradley's neck. 

As his fingers closed around the ring, he whispered, "We have to ask Mommy a question."

The crowd was loud enough that Bradley thought there was a good chance you couldn't hear his words to Noah as he finally shared his plans for the day with his son. But as he sank to one knee in front of you with Noah perched in front of him, you looked more apprehensive. He handed Noah the ring and watched as his son reached his hand up to you. It was too late to stop now as you caught sight of the princess cut diamond that Bradley thought you'd love from the first time he saw it. Your eyes went wide, and you gasped loudly, eyes fixed on Bradley as you froze. His brain was screaming at him that you were going to say no.

Then Noah's sweet voice filled the space between the two of you as he held the ring up a little higher and asked, "Mommy, will you marry Daddy?"

You were looking from Noah to Bradley as you pressed your fingertips to your lips, and your response was neither a confirmation nor a rejection of his proposal, but rather something Bradley had been hoping for but thought was still a long way off. Tears filled your eyes as you said, "I'm pregnant." 

-----------------------------

Double. Whammy. What's your move, Daddy? What are you thinking, Princess? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 51

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster imagine #rooster fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #the younger kind

[nomazee]

EVENT TIME EVENT TIME

how about.. 4:44am & dr. ratio? 🫡

AUGHH THANK U GWEN i lvoed writing ths..... first time writing dr ratio be gentle on my fragile soul

my 1k event!

—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—

When Doctor Veritas Ratio walks into his very-private, very-locked, very-secluded study, he’s greeted with the unfortunate sight of you—sitting on the floor, an easel with a wide canvas set up low to the ground, oil paints sprawled absolutely everywhere. 

“What the hell are you doing?”

A sheepish smile pulls at your face, as if a sweet expression will get you out of the mess you’ve made of Ratio’s personal space. It’s far too late— late? Too early? Regardless. The hour of the night-slash-morning that you’ve decided to paint in his room is not appropriate at all. 

“I can explain,” you say, followed by a complete lack of an explanation as the two of you stew in silence for another half a minute. 

“Why are you even awake at this hour?” Ratio scoffs, stepping around you and your hazardous art set-up as he places some irrelevant stack of books on his (thankfully untouched) desk. “You should’ve been in bed a long time ago. Soon you’ll experience delirium from lack of sleep.” 

“Oh, please,” you argue, swatting a hand in his general direction playfully as you turn back to your canvas. It’s full of nauseating color, clear shapes and lines that don’t blend together in the slightest, vague animal-like forms that overlap with each other. “You’re awake too, aren’t you? Unless I really did hit delirium, and you’re just some Veritas-ghost floating around in my subconscious.” 

Ratio does not get a kick out of your very funny joke. An annoyed huff escapes him, tainted with something like weariness and exhaustion. Your eyebrow twitches. 

“And to answer your first question,” you prattle on, mindlessly scrubbing dried paint from the side of your hand with a wet rag, before picking up a fan brush, “I’m painting. This room is really well-ventilated, which is nice, because it would be a shame if all the fumes got to my head and zapped away my few remaining brain cells.” 

That one gets a laugh out of him, probably because it’s at the expense of your own intelligence. 

“There are a hundred other rooms that are exactly the same as mine,” he argues, finally turning away from his pointless shuffling of materials on his desk and facing you, looking at you while he talks to you—you know, like a normal person would. “There was no reason to infiltrate my own private study for your… painting. The door was locked, too. How did you—” 

“Don’t ask silly questions, Veritas,” and you like the way each consonant of his name clicks against your lips and teeth and tongue, “I have my ways. Does it bother you that I’m defiling your good room with my frivolous fine arts endeavors?” 

“Ridiculous,” his face screws up in displeasure at your assumption that he’d be so elitist to deny you of your passion. He walks around your spread of supplies again, carefully, before kneeling by your side to watch you work. As much as he’s loath to admit, you’re one of his few soft spots, and it shows in the way he traces the lines of your paint with his gaze, and the fact that he has yet to kick you out of his room. “The humanities are just as important as any other field.” 

“Spoken like a true scholar,” you quip, trying to hold back the shakiness of your hands and the swaying of your body. It really is too late for this, but you’d slept through the day and felt much too awake by midnight. Setting up camp in Ratio’s room was a natural instinct. 

“Go to bed,” he says, commanding yet gentle as he tugs a paintbrush from your hand. He doesn’t touch your hands, never really does, but he’s gathering your scattered, wrung-out tubes of paint and the little containers of linseed oil hidden under the easel. “It does neither you nor your artwork any good to be exhausted.” 

“I’m not even tired!” you complain, dragging out your words in a whine as he nudges you with his foot in a wordless command to stand up. There’s something like a cot in the corner of his room (because he does sleep, sometimes, and often it’s between textbooks and files and loose leaf paper) and a cozy patterned blanket that’s definitely yours. 

“You will be tired the second your head hits the mattress.” 

“This is a really awful mattress, Ratio.” 

“Don’t complain,” and his tone is harsh but you know he doesn’t mean it, because he’s pushing you back onto the little sleeping corner and tucking you into the blanket, nothing short of kindness in his hands. “You still have to clean your mess in the morning.” 

Sure, you think, already drifting off. By the time you wake up, you know that your mess will be packed away in a neat pile, floor wiped clean and canvas propped safely against the wall.

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

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[lolabangtan]

sideshow | jjk

You’re a successful cam girl in need of a hot guy with a big cock, and you think you’ve found your match.

Word count: 9k

Warnings: smut, dub-con fantasy.

# cam girl!reader, coffee shop AU, mutual pining, hand job, oral sex (female and male receiving), squirting, face sitting, restraints, unprotected sex, face-fucking, dacryphilia, overstimulation and post-orgasm torture, teasing/degradation, cream pie, cum play, recording kink, dub-con role play, they’re so cute *sobs*

A/N: let’s not ask about this and enjoy it without wondering where the inspiration came from.

You’re always staring at him. When you’re in line waiting for your order, chatting with someone else when he’s nearby, or even when you secretly spot him working as you pass by the window – you’re always staring at Jeon Jungkook.

Your friends mock you for it whenever they get the chance. It’s almost as if you, the sexy, mysterious girl who records herself for a living, having such a silly, wholesome crush on someone was the most amusing thing they’ve ever heard. But a guy like him, so kind and hot and funny, is worth it, and you won’t deny it.

But being honest, they’re right by showing their surprise. You just don’t come off as the kind of girl who’d fall for a guy like him.

Apart from being kind, hot, and funny, Jeon Jungkook is also extremely popular while still being down to earth. An endangered specimen – if there’s ever been one before. He’s got his tattoos, and his adorable dog, and his decent schoolwork managing skills, and his outstanding talent at any sport to ever exist. And in the meantime, you sometimes catch him staring back, so your mind has to work twice as much to fish for an excuse. You just think it’ll be better in the long run.

Because honestly, people always talk. They point at you, make comments, or ask creepy questions. Surely Jeon Jungkook, with his brilliant future, doesn’t want that just because his cock might get hard with one of your videos.

In a way – a stupid, pointless way – you’re always staring at each other.

“You could try and talk to him one day, you know. Maybe then you’ll see there’s literally not a single thought behind those silly doe eyes.”

You can’t help laughing at Seokjin’s words, almost choking on your coffee. “Isn’t that a bit mean? I thought you liked him.”

“And I do!”

“Hm, look at the time.” You check your phone before putting it back into your purse. “I’d better hurry if I don’t wanna keep my sister waiting. We’ll talk later, okay? And I will not approach him just because. I really don’t need any gossip about me.”

Well, you’re just stressed. You need some money for your Spring break trip to the beach, but you aren’t exactly thrifty. Actually, you’re quite the opposite.

So, you’ve come up with an idea: charging for requests and uploading them to your website. The answer from your subscribers was immediate and increasingly positive, with only one problem.

The most voted idea was a POV, which sadly required another person to join you. Someone with a big, nice cock if it’s possible. You’d ask Seokjin, but he’d never let his almost little sister-like friend suck his cock and give him four orgasms in a row. And it’s not something you’d do either in a world where you weren’t desperate.

You’re not going to lie, there’s only one person you’d want to do that video with – and he’s walking out into the backbar right now.

The two of you stop at the same time as you walk past each other. Not noticing his presence next to you, you keep looking at the poster with the newest sweet additions to the menu and sigh with satisfaction at the fact that you’ll be able to keep enjoying your good old butter croissants.

Then you turn around.

“Oh, shit— sorry! God, I’m so clumsy! Let me help you.”

You squat down to pick up the broken pieces of glass scattered on the floor. When you look up, you’re met with the sight of a staring Jeon Jungkook bent in front of you.

“I’m sorry,” you manage to repeat.

His lips twitch as if he wanted to say something, but the man keeps quiet as you hand him back his stuff. You can’t help looking down at his muscular arms, covered in black ink. Although Jungkook remains impassive and cool, here you are, practically malfunctioning – while he’s probably wondering why the cam girl hasn’t left yet.

“Just— be careful. Don’t cut yourself.”

He does look like a bunny, now that you think of it. A really hot bunny.

Fucking shit, you can’t help it, can you? To stare, to drool, to picture your hands stroking down his chest, kneading the flesh. You love ripped guys, especially when it doesn’t get over their heads. You’d eat him up in a second, pinky promise.

“Sorry,” you say again, standing up. “I wasn’t looking.”

“Y/N! Are you okay?”

Namjoon rushes up to you, breaking the strange silence between you and Jungkook. He sees the mess and starts to pick up the broken pieces, asking you to step back just in case. With a nod, the youngest offers to go and fetch a broom, and Namjoon thanks him.

Your friend lets out a laugh. “Only with my homeboy, huh?”

“Hm?”

“You only get like this with Jungkookie,” he explains. “The rest of the time, you’re a merciless succubus.”

“Shut up, he’s gonna hear you,” you groan.

Namjoon starts wiping the floor, and you help him by picking up the plastic bag.

“Do you think he likes you back?”

You shrug. “I guess he might be attracted to me, but I don’t think he likes me... in that sense. I don’t care, though – it’s not like we’re a match or something. I’m probably just attracted too.”

Jungkook comes back with the broom and cleans the floor while you look around in a poor attempt to avoid his eyes. You don’t notice the way he looks at you, nor the pent-up frustration with which he grips the stick of the broom, his lips twitching again.

“Well, I, uh— I’ll leave you to it. And sorry again, I wasn’t looking.”

With that, you rush out of the coffee shop and run down the street until you reach the number you were looking for. Taking out your keys, you open the door and walk in, going directly to the second floor.

When you get into the flat, the storm unleashes:

“God, I was so worried! You should’ve told me you’d be running late.”

Like always, visiting your older sister comes with a nagging and a steamy cup of coffee. You’re enjoying both of them sitting in her kitchen.

“You’re exaggerating,” you groan.

“Yeah, sure, it’s not like any of your creepy fans could ever doxx you or something and kidnap you.” With a raised eyebrow, you stare at her over the mug. “Hm, okay, just build the habit of telling me if you’re gonna be late, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So” – she turns around with a grin and leaves her mug in front of you – “who is this Jungkook guy and why haven’t you asked him out already?”

Your face turns a bright red. “How do you know about—? Fucking Jin...”

“Come on, you’re usually bolder. You really like him, don’t you?” At your shrugging, your sister chuckles. “You’re entitled to like people, you know that, right? And hit on them, and ask them out. Just because you had a few bad experiences—”

“It’s just not gonna happen,” you blurt out. “You know why? First, because he’s not remotely interested in me. And second, because I know, I just know how this is going to end if I do,” you continue, your face growing warmer. “And I don’t care about all the nice guys out there because, in the end, they’re all the same; dicks with an excuse of a brain.”

“You want to have sex with him, don’t you?”

“Uh, yeah?”

She laughs again. “Then try the opposite! You think he’d only be interested in the shagging? Go shag. And then see if he stays.”

You bury your face in the palms of your hands, thankful for the chilly contact. The skin cools down, and a sigh escapes from your lips.

“What if he says no?”

“Then he doesn’t want to fuck. That’s uncommon for a man so, one point for him.”

Ah, yes, your sister and her logic; it’s utterly stupid and yet, you always fail to rebuke her absurd reasoning. It’s almost a talent, you think. Maybe that’s why she’s a lawyer.

“Well, I do have a plan,” you murmur.

Her eyes brighten immediately. “Then go for it, tiger! He’s super cute, and super hot! Better get your heart broken by a ten if all men suck.”

The coffee shop is almost closing when you arrive; you had asked Namjoon who was closing tonight so, when you heard it’d be him, you rushed out of your sister’s place to get there in time. This is a one-time chance.

You spot him behind the window, wiping a cup.

There’s a sigh coming out from his mouth when the door jingles open. The common frustration of having a last-minute customer.

“Hey.”

“Ah— it’s you,” Jungkook says with a soft voice, and you frown. “I-I mean, I thought you were some annoying random, sorry… I don’t mind making you a coffee.”

Oh, that was nice. Very nice.

You quietly take a seat at the counter. “Thanks.”

“Uh, so…” You’re lucky Jungkook isn’t facing you, turned from you instead as he turns on the coffee machine. Otherwise, he’d notice your red face and the eagerness with which you listen to him as he stutters, “I-it’s pretty late— for a coffee. Do you have to stay up late tonight?”

“Not exactly.”

Finally, Jungkook turns around and hands you the coffee, looking pretty much puzzled.

“I was wondering if you’d like to work with me,” you finally let out, and your chest feels weightless for a second— until you come back to earth and realise that you’ll have to hear an answer.

He’s looking at you in complete silence.

Maybe he really doesn’t know that you’re a cam girl? Maybe he’s just thinking about what your job could be and how could the two of you possibly work together. Or maybe he’s just zooming out, who knows? It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Do you want me to, uh, e-edit a—?” Jungkook gets cut off by his own coughing as his cheeks turn red. “Sorry, edit a video... for you?”

Ah.

Of course he knows.

He knows, so there’s a chance he might have watched one of them. Maybe all of them. Perhaps Namjoon told him about it, or perhaps he thought you looked familiar and asked him. In his mind – and that’s what makes it awkward, and not the fact that he’s probably watched you naked or touching yourself – he knows what you work for, and every single interaction is stained with that.

“Uh— not... Not really.” You don’t notice, but Jungkook holds his breath, and his heart starts beating faster. “It was more along the lines of making one together.”

Your heart is beating fast too.

“Me?”

Well,  I’ve been told that you’ve got a big cock, oh, and because I have a crush on you.

You shrug. “Thought you could use the money, and you do have a nice body— your face wouldn’t show, though.”

“I, uh...”

“Just asking if you were down!” you blurt out then, stepping back. “Of course, it’s up to you. I understand if you’re not comfortable with us, uh, having—”

“I-I get you,” he laughs. Now his face is as red as a strawberry.

In silence, you stand there, waiting for an answer. However, it seems like neither of you is functioning properly at the time, so you clear your throat with your heart clenching painfully in your chest and let out a shaky laugh:

“Of course, it’s too weird, so, uh— forget I said anything. Thank you for considering it, have a nice day!”

You rush out of the café, but his voice stops you:

“Wait!”

You turn around and look at him; he looks positively embarrassed, even more than you, although it’s understandable – probably due to the circumstances – so, you wait, breath hitching, for him to continue.

Jungkook looks away. “I— I didn’t say no.”

“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” you rush to clarify. “That’s my number.” You hand him a business card, which he seems too afraid to check. “Call me… if you’re interested. I’ll leave now, thank you for your time. And— uh, nothing. Bye.”

“Bye…”

By the time you leave the coffee shop, your heart is beating so hard that you think it could be a stroke. Your cheeks are boiling hot, and you struggle to walk down to the bus stop while your legs wiggle. You did it, it’d done – you’ve already asked Jeon Jungkook to film an erotic video with you for your page.

You don’t get any signs of life from Jungkook until two days later, at two in the morning.

Namjoon told you that they had met some friends for a drink after closing time, so you’re not surprised that he’s up so late. He also tends to go to bed late when he stays up playing console games.

[Saturday, 2:17 AM] Unknown: Hello, Y/N.

[Saturday, 2:17 AM] Unknown: It’s Jungkook.

[Saturday, 2:18 AM] Unknown: I have been thinking about it and, if the offer still stands, I accept.

Your heart immediately somersaults the glowing letters on your screen. Reality fell on your shoulders, and you finally understood that you would be filming that video with Jeon Jungkook. Maybe you could ask him out on a date later, but it’d be tomorrow’s you’s nuisance to worry about rejection. For the time being, you’re going to get on with the script so that you can send it to him as soon as possible.

[Saturday, 5:43 AM] You: Cool, I’ve attached the script. Just let me know if there’s anything you don’t feel comfortable with or want to change. When are you free?

[Saturday, 5:44 AM] You: Of course, we’ll go through your limits before filming.

Jungkook’s reply doesn’t arrive in time for you to read it; as soon as you’re done with it, you plummet into your bed and fall asleep, totally exhausted.

[Saturday, 5:49 AM] Jeon Jungkook: Looking forward to it!

[Saturday, 5:49 AM] Jeon Jungkook: I mean

Jeon Jungkook has deleted this message

Jeon Jungkook has deleted this message

The bell goes through your head like a nail. Your mouth is dry and your body trembles, but you get up to open the door in the hope that it’s not Jungkook behind it.

After you had sent him the script, it took him a while to answer. Then, after three hours, he only answered ‘okay’ and asked you when you would be meeting. You agreed on the day and time, and here you are, turning the doorknob with your heart beating through your chest.

“Hi, come in.”

You step aside, and Jungkook walks into your small flat; it’s cute and cosy, with the golden light coming in through the windows. His black clothes soak in it as you watch him get comfortable and, for a second, it feels like he’s coming over for a date, just to hang out. It feels nice, that small, minute, short second.

“Want anything to drink?”

“Yes—” Jungkook clears his throat. “Yes, please. Water’s good.”

You come back with two glasses of water and sit in front of him on the couch, determined to calm down your nerves.

“Okay, so, I understand that you read the script, right?” you ask, and he nods instantly, perhaps too quickly. “Uh, so… is there anything you’d like to change? Anything you don’t feel comfortable with?”

Jungkook glances at you only to look away in the blink of an eye. He’s biting his lip again.

“No, hm, everything sounds good so far. I mean— t-there’s nothing I don’t like, like… there’s nothing that turns me… off.” He eventually gets discouraged to keep talking and gulps down the glass of water in front of him. “Sounds good, you know, with the angle you suggested.”

“Nothing at all? Are you sure? I wrote a lot of things.”

He keeps avoiding your eyes. “Yeah, I’m cool with it… And I brought the test results.”

“Good,” you murmur and take the papers as he hands them out to check them. “All clean, that’s good. I’ve got mine too, and I’m on birth control, obviously.”

“Cool.”

“I liked your suggestions for the plot, by the way.” Maybe it’s better to give Jungkook some praise for his effort, that way he will relax a little around you. “A bit wicked— but in a good way. Did you get it from a movie?”

He turns red in a second, and you have to press your thighs together. “N-no, I— it just came to my mind. I can add the effects later.”

You nod slowly and clear your throat.

Once the both of you have gone through every single detail of the script, you’re half turned on, half mortified. It’s almost as if your brain hasn’t fully processed that you will be doing all of this with Jungkook in an hour, or maybe even earlier.

“It’s okay if you’re nervous,” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t come off shaky. “And, well, we can stop at any moment, okay? We’ll just stop everything, no hard feelings.”

“Thank you…”

You give him a robe and show him the bathroom, where he gets changed and washes up only to return to your bedroom; that’s where you record everything, but there is a tarpaulin covering the whole wall, including the window. This way, and with a VPN, you make sure you keep your affairs decently hidden.

You’re also wearing a robe when Jungkook walks in, revealing the sight of your cleavage.

You walk up to him. “All good?” you ask. “Do you want anything? A glass of water? Viagra, or an energy bar?”

Jungkook stares at you, a bit surprised, or taken aback by the joke. You turn around in shame, with an apology on your lips, before you notice the way his cheeks turn red and an amused smile creeps to his own.

“A glass of water’d be great, thanks.”

When you return from the kitchen, you’re also bringing along a bunch of papers. “Here are the test results, I’m all clean. Thank you” – Jungkook hands you his own results, and you skim-read them – “I’m also on birth control, in case I didn’t tell you already, so feel free to, uh…”

“O-okay, gotcha.”

Luckily, he doesn’t make any faces as you shut up, discouraged; why are you acting like an idiot who has no idea what she’s doing? He’s probably regretting it already.

You have prepared the props for filming in your room; your bed, which you insisted on buying with a bar headboard, is already set with the ropes, so all that remains is to tie the victim with them. You’ve done the same with the foot of the bed, as well as the POV camera that’s fitted just above his head. He’s wearing a shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and you’ve put on a shirt that shows your nipples through and a pair of panties that are a bit too small so that your folds are marked.

What can you say: you consider yourself a meticulous creator.

“Okay, so I think everything’s ready. You can lie down now; I’ll take care of the rest.”

When Jungkook is finally lying on the bed, you straddle him to fasten the ties around his wrists and ankles.

It’s weird to feel his warm body beneath you after pining for him for so long; you can feel his thighs tensing and flexing under your ass, how he shifts on the mattress, looking down at your hands and how they skilfully tie him to the bed headboard. His eyes burn wherever they land, you fear you might be getting a bit of stage fright.

“How are you doing?” Jungkook murmurs a ‘good’, looking up at you. “Cool… Then we can get down to business.”

Holding your breath, you lean into him to turn on the camera and, as soon as the red light appears, you realise you’ve been holding it for too long and let out a deep sigh. Time to get into character. Don’t think about it, Y/N.

You look down at him; Jungkook stares back, waiting for you to get on with the script.

Faking a wicked smile, you bend over him and dive on his neck for a kiss, being as loud as possible, slurping and groaning. He shivers beneath you, and you feel yourself already getting turned on just by having him at your mercy like this. After all, this is supposed to be erotic.

Suddenly, Jungkook fixes your knee on his crotch and moves it a bit to the left, taking you by surprise.

“Are you awake, sweetheart?” you ask, pretending you aren’t surprised.

As you wait for a response, you bend down to leave a trail of pecks down his jaw and neck, peppering kisses on his shoulder now, as Jungkook stirs beneath you again.

“Uh… w-where am I?” he asks as he stares down at you with a pitiful frown. “Who are you?”

You let out a giggle. “I was hoping you’d recognise me, but I guess I need to be humbled… I’m the girl of your wet dreams, baby.”

“I-I don’t know what—”

You attack his lips this time, delving for a deep kiss. Jungkook eventually closes his eyes and gives in to your kiss, uttering a meek whimper against your lips and pulling at the ropes to no avail. When you move away, you sit on his crotch, happily surprised.

“Oh, what do we have here? Someone’s waking up, look.”

Before he can say anything, you pinch his tip over his trousers. He twitches again, leaking precum, as you can tell from the way a wet patch appears in the fabric.

“I’m sure it’s small, so tiny I wouldn’t even feel it,” you snicker, “but I’ll use it anyway, maybe as a plug for my butt.”

Jungkook whines, feeling himself getting even harder. “I-it’s not small—”

Honestly, when you dropped by the coffee shop and asked him to work with you on a video, he couldn’t believe it. It had always remained a fantasy, and he feared for a second that someone had ratted him out about his crush on you. ‘Someone’ as in ‘Kim Namjoon’, of course.

Jungkook has spent many hours thinking of different ways to ask you out on a date. Ever since he met you, he’s grown obsessed with you and your personality, charm, beauty, and confidence. When he started to notice you getting shy around him, a small flame of hope lit up inside of him, but why would you be into a guy like him? Yes, he isn’t bad looking, but surely, you’d be more into big, strong, sexual guys, wouldn’t you? Real men who had lots of experience in bed.

On the other hand, Jungkook becomes such a mess every time he’s around you; he drops things, he’s unable to form a coherent sentence, and you never seem to be too interested in talking to him for more than five seconds.

Now, is Jungkook in love with you? Before, he would have denied it, that this was just another crush. But now that he’s so close to you, that he can feel the sweat on your skin, that he’s one with you, he has to ask you out. Otherwise, he’ll never be happy again.

Especially now that the feeling of you straddling his lap and playing with his cock is ingrained in his memory.

“Let me go,” he barks, suddenly remembering that he has a script to follow. “I— I won’t tell anyone if you let me go now.”

You lean into him and stroke his cheek. “Why would I?”

Sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, you silence any possible reply from him and kiss him hard against the mattress. Your ass ruts against his cock mercilessly, almost by instinct, eager to feel his whines die in your mouth.

Your hands find their way beneath his shirt. With eager fingers, you brush his nipples and, hearing him whimper, keep pinching them as he stirs, fleeing your touch but at the same time seeking it. You chuckle and tease him for it, and Jungkook can only close his eyes with the genuine wish that he won’t come too soon, or at least before you get the footage you want.

You keep humping his clothed cock, now visibly hard and standing proudly against the fabric of his sweats. Between kisses, you tell him how well he’s doing.

“Let’s make a deal, shall we?” you suddenly say.

Jungkook struggles to peel his eyes open. “W-what deal?”

“If you manage not to cum before me, I’ll let you go,” you continue. “You will be totally free.”

“And— if I do?”

Shit, you forgot about this part. What happened if he came…? You can think of the paragraph and the page, but you really can’t remember the rest of the lines, shit. You totally suck at this—

“I’ll milk your cock dry until you beg me to stop – and only then will I think about it.”

Jungkook stares at you in shock, and for a second, you fear that your impromptu response has gone too far. But then you feel something hard rubbing against your pussy, and you realise that he is unconsciously humping you, twitching and getting bigger and harder.

“You’re fucking nuts,” he cries out.

But you only giggle in response, shoving your hips together as if you were actually riding him. You let out a loud moan, too exaggerated to be true. The constant pressure of your pussy against his crotch makes him arch his back, desperately trying to hold his own whines and grunts to save you the satisfaction of proving you right.

“Look at you! You poor thing,” you exclaim in laughter. “I’m gonna fuck your virgin cock until you pass out.”

Jungkook goes still.

“Oh, thought I didn’t know?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

“I—”

You bend down and bite on his neck only to soothe the sting with your tongue. “You thought I didn’t know you’ve never been touched before? You’re popular, but women terrify you, don’t they? You see them and only notice their hard nipples through their shirts and their tight pussies peeking from under their short skirts, and that makes you nervous; if they’re nice to you, you’re not interested. If they’re mean, you spend all day imagining them spanking you or sitting on your face… Don’t lie, you’re a sicko who wants a woman to spit in your mouth and fuck your cute little cock. Do you call them mommy in your fantasies? A mean mommy with a fat ass to hump your pathetic dick and huge tits to suck on.”

“S-shut up,” Jungkook cries out. “Shut up, shut up— you have no fucking idea, y-you don’t know shit—”

“I’d show you my tits and you’d come on the spot,” you laugh.

“S-stop lying!”

“Jesus, you’re gonna burst your pants from how hard you’ve got, sweetheart. And I’m nuts? At least I’m not getting hard just because a girl is making fun of me.”

You start bouncing on his crotch, laughing. The constant pressure of your ass against his cock makes him squirm, spilling out an amusing mixture of insults and plaids for mercy. His cheeks are warm with a blush of embarrassment and arousal.

“No wonder no one has ever touched this cute little cock!” you chirp, finally shoving your hand into his pants. “I bet you spend all day locked in your room, watching porn or hentai or whatever losers like you are into. Fucking into your own hand like a bitch in heat. Thank goodness you live alone, because you would live in constant fear of your mom finding your dirty comics or the huge amount of dry jizz all over your plushies and pillows.”

“I— I always clean up after myself,” he whimpers in the sweetest voice possible, and you wonder if he’s actually being honest.

Time to find out. “Yeah? You don’t fuck into your pillow thinking it’s your crush’s wet pussy and leave it full of your cum with the pathetic feeling that you’re filling her up?” you grunt, getting riled up. The thought of Jungkook wanting to do it to someone else makes your blood boil.

“Y-yes!” Jungkook finally cries out. “Shit, shit— I always fuck my pillow thinking it’s you!”

The woman was too stunned to speak.

“Fuck, it— it always leaks out, I’ve always got so much cum saved up for— for you, mommy. I imagine it’s your pussy I’m filling up, want to milk my cock into your cunt until you’re happy.”

The ache between your legs worsens, and you have to rub your thighs together to ease the pent-up arousal; you’re dripping, could simply sit on his pretty cock and ride him until he’s a crying mess – but this has got way out of hand, you need to get the video back on track.

And you shouldn’t think about why he immediately thought of you when you brought up his crush.

You lean on him and spit on his lips, making him yelp. “Yuck.”

“M-mommy, please—”

“Ugh, shut up.”

Raising your hips off him, you take off your panties; indeed, they are ruined and soaked with your juices. Their only use is to gag Jungkook, and there they go, straight into his mouth.

He has to close his eyes when the scent of your arousal reaches his nose.

It takes him a couple of seconds to process that you’re naked now, at least from the waist down. Only your breasts are covered behind the thin white fabric of your tank top. It’s too small, so the sides of your tits stick out, and the neckline is too wide and barely covers your nipples.

Now, his eyes wander down to your pussy; glistening and dripping wet, Jungkook notices the way you rub your thighs together from time to time.

Kneeling over him, you sit on his chest and lift up your shirt, trying not to care that you’re leaving a trail of your juices across his skin. You’re right on top of the camera, and it really looks like Jungkook’s point of view. So, you grab his head and push it between your tits.

“Slow, dummy babies don’t get to suck on mommy’s boobs, darling. Hurry up.”

His eyes locked with yours, Jungkook opens his mouth to suck on your left nipple as you cradle his head. The contact sends shivers down your spine. Still bound to the bed, he struggles to turn his head and reach closer, eager to flicker his tongue around your sensitive nub.

“That’s it, baby, so good,” you groan.

He shifts to your other breast, and you allow him, too hooked on the pleasure to question his intentions.

Jungkook flicks his tongue with eagerness, hunger, almost desperation. His hips buck into the air, and his restrained cock keeps leaking precum, a wet patch appearing on the fabric. He sucks on your nipple like his life depends on it, unhinging his jaw to reach what he can’t touch.

Shit.

You’ve gone off script enough as it is.

You push him away, and he whimpers. “Well done, sweetheart,” you groan, “but mommy has other plans for you.”

Taking off your shirt, you’re now fully naked on top of him. Jungkook’s eyes roam around your figure and drink it up the sight of your bare body on top of him like it is water and he’s dying of thirst.

It’s time for the good shots, so you turn around so that your dripping folds are right in front of the camara – and right on top of his face, but that’s just a little gift for you. You’re facing his crotch, and with eager hands, you pull down his pants and underwear at the same time, letting his big, red, leaking cock spring up against his stomach. It’s the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, and your mouth waters just at the thought.

Meanwhile, Jungkook has been struggling with the tempting sigh of your pussy right above his head. It tickles his tongue, makes his lips twitch; he can only think about ravishing your cunt like a madman.

It’s practically instinctive when his neck is stretched upwards. You said you were okay with oral. In fact, you enjoyed it. The script is just something to guide you as to the plot; the rest, it can go as it comes up. That torture you promised him wasn’t scripted either, but it’s made his cock hard as if he was in heat. And, if you don’t like it, you can use the safeword too.

Just a bit more while you keep playing with his cock in your hands.

His tongue is already out, like a dog. That’s pretty much what he feels like right now, desperate to fuck your pussy with his mouth.

Shit, you’re dripping.

“I wonder if you can get even harder,” he hears you ramble.

As you get comfortable on top of him, your hips are getting closer to his reach. Your ankles rest under his forearms, you didn’t notice he could lick you for at least a few seconds.

Jungkook doesn’t stop to think and delves his tongue into your pussy, proceeding quickly to suck and lap at your clit. Your juices soak his face, but that only makes his erection grow. Your clit reacts instantly, throbbing between his lips.

“What the— s-shit, Jungkook, what are you—” you manage to moan.

Your first instinct is to push your legs away, but Jungkook is pressing down with his forearms and, by the time you think of moving your hips away, you’re already melting with pleasure. His tongue is quick to lick your clit over and over, relentlessly, as you thrust back. Using his forearms again, he pulls you by your legs so that you’re practically sitting on his face, bent over him, grunting his name.

Saliva runs down his chin. Your taste on his tongue has shoved him into a thoughtless state, he’s only thinking about making you come. His tongue parts your lips and fucks into your entrance with wet, sloppy strokes.

Jungkook lets out a whimper. “Fuck, as good as I thought it’d be,” he cries out, his voice muffled by your folds. “Mummy got dripping just from playing with me, so fucking m-mean—”

You arch your back and thrust back against his tongue, feeling the tension in the pit of your stomach.

He’s got your ankles well locked, and you’re still torn between control and pleasure, so you simply squirm on top of him while Jungkook keeps ravishing your pussy now that you can’t close your legs – nor do you really want to.

But shit, he’s going to make you come if he keeps this up. And, if you do, the deal is off, and the video is over. You’d love to squirt all over his face and force him to drink it up, but you’ve got other plans for him and for you so, as much as you’re loving getting tongue-fucked by this bratty little shit, it’s time to stop him.

“My baby really wanted to lick mummy’s pussy, didn’t he?” you blurt out with a laugh, and his cock twitches, a drop of precum rolling down from his tip.

“W-what?”

“How was your first cunt, sweetheart?” you continue. “Better than your hand, huh? Better than the sad, pathetic hole you make in your stuffed animals to stick your dick in and think it’s me.”

A tear of embarrassment rolls down his cheek. “T-that’s not—”

“Let me return the favour.”

While Jungkook, in a desperate attempt to make you cum, keeps licking and sucking your pussy, you keep yourself decently composed and let a trickle of saliva drip onto his tip. Before he can say anything else, you’re engulfing his cock until your nose is pressed against his pubic bone.

“F-fuck!”

You try to fight a wicked smile with his cock around your lips.

Jungkook’s hips twitch, but that only makes the tip of his cock bump into your throat, ripping a sob from him.

You start bobbing your head up and down; he pulls at his restraints, his head turning to his sides as two thick tears of pleasure roll down his cheeks. Guess this probably is his first time being deep-throated, so better ruin it for everybody coming after.

Fortunately, his bratty tongue is too busy crying and moaning to pay any attention to your pussy, so you sit on his chest and get momentum.

His cock feels hot in your mouth, leaking precum. It’s salty as it mixes with your own saliva running down his shaft. Jungkook is sweating all over, his head spinning like he’s having a fever; after all, the wet heat of your mouth around his cock is too much to handle. It’s coated in your spit, sending waves of pleasure down his spine, making his toes curl, his throat sore from grunting and sobbing. You hollow your cheeks and swallow around him, the vibrations of your moans only worsening the pleasure pooling in his lower back.

“Fuck!” he cries out again. “Of fuck, p-please—!” Jungkook can’t even properly thrash with his feet as they’re tied to the bed as well. “So good, so fucking good!”

You pull the foreskin back to expose the head and dip your tongue into the slit, savouring the taste of his arousal. For a second, you wonder if he’s never really got proper head or if he’s just very sensitive, but you shove the thought to the back of your head and keep going.

“Got anything to say about that misbehaviour from earlier?” you ask, licking down to the base.

“Dunno—”

“Ah, yes, you do.” Your voice comes out soft, too soft. It sends chills down his back. “You grabbed mommy’s ass and ate her pussy without permission, remember?”

Leaning on his thighs, you manage to turn around to face him. You notice his red face and dilated pupils, and he notices your slick, swollen lips.

To your surprise, Jungkook smirks. “But mommy loved it, didn’t she? I almost made her cum—”

You shut him up by swallowing down his cock again, even if he is right; only a couple of minutes more and you would have come all over his face. But you haven’t, and that’s all that matters. Now you have to make him cum so that you can start torturing his spent cock until he’s crying for you to stop.

Jungkook may be used to keeping it down at his shared flat and know how to be quiet, but you can always tell when a guy is close, and you’re surprised at how much he’s been holding it. From how swollen and purplish his cock looks, how much he’s leaking, and the way it reacts, throbbing and twitching at your touch, he must have been on edge for a while.

“Are you a masochist, perhaps?” you ask, rather to yourself.

Your hands find his base again and start pumping him, both of them. The contact feels kind of dry, though, despite his arousal dripping through your fingers, so you bend down and spit on the head again.

“I wouldn’t be surprised, really,” you continue, jerking him off like it’s just one more chore. “A crazy chick ties you to the bed to fuck you and the first thing you do is get a hard-on. No wonder only your plushies are willing to let you hit it— though they can’t really say anything, can they?”

With a shaky gasp, Jungkook bites his lip and closes his eyes; he needs to stop either seeing or hearing you if he wants to hold on any longer, but your breasts are right in front of him, covered in a glistening layer of sweat, your erect nipples that he just had in his mouth, your pussy radiating heat and dripping down your inner thighs. If only you would sit on his cock and ride him until you cum and scream with pleasure, choke him, spit in his mouth, use him like he uses his poor childhood stuffed animals.

Then this torture would be over, he would climax inside you and stuff you with his cum, til it’s dripping. And the next torture would begin.

“Come on, the last test. If you pass it without cumming, I’ll let you go, okay, sweetheart?”

Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts; suddenly, you’re straddling his lap, the tip of his cock brushing against your folds. The brief pleasure, more like a feeling-induced fantasy turned into a touch, makes him shudder and take a deep breath.

“This” – you yank off his shirt, buttons popping out – “off.”

Raking your nails through his hair, you yank it and force him to look at you in silence. His chest heaves and falls as he stares into your eyes.

Your thumb strokes his bottom lip. “It’s a pity that such a pretty face belongs to a pervert like you.”

“I’m not a pervert!”

“Yadda, yadda,” you mock him, tilting up his chin to get access to his jaw and bite him. “Whatever, I have no interest in your pathetic excuses – if you weren’t a pervert, you wouldn’t be hard right now.”

“I-it’s a biological response!” Jungkook insists.

“Hm, yeah, sure. Then you won’t mind if I don’t fuck you, right—? What’s more, you’ll be glad.”

To add weight to your words – and torture him a little in the process – you start moving your hips up and down against his cock, rubbing him with your folds. He twitches between your inner thighs, and you keep circling and undulating your hips over his tip, every now and then pretending you’re going to finally sit on him. His head penetrates you for a second, and you fuck yourself on it, one, two, three thrusts until you decide to press your ass against it.

“Just imagine if I let you fuck my ass,” you laugh. “Just think about it, sweetheart.”

“It’d be s-so tight,” he blurts out, “around my cock! Shit, I wish I could— I wish I could eat your ass, and then your pussy, and then fuck you open with my cock—”

“Fuck—”

You find yourself grinding on his swollen tip, rubbing your clit against his sensitive skin, too turned on by his words; yeah, you’d like him to eat your ass as well. Jungkook is trying to muffle the whimpers coming through his lips, but the pressure is getting heavier.

Moving in a quick thrust, you sit down on his cock. He works you open as it disappears into your body, a moan leaving your lips. Your fingers dig into his shoulders for leverage, hips setting a pace as you bounce on his cock. It massages your inner walls, with sounds of smacking flesh, working thigh muscles as you melt at the shocking waves of pleasure.

“Ngh—” Jungkook lets out a whimper and pulls at the restraints. “Fuck! Oh, fuck—”

Your skin prickles, your clit rubbing against his pubic bone. It’s dripping, the ache between your thighs expanding while you chase your climax.

Jungkook pants, head bumping against the headboard, victim to the rolls and thrusts of your hips. Your tits are bouncing right in front of him, their round shape and hardened nipples so, so tempting, making his mouth water while his cock throbs and twitches between your walls. You clench around him, and he whines again. His nerves feel on fire, and the sight of your bare figure fucking yourself on his cock only worsens it.

Your hand slithers to pinch one of your nipples. Playing with it, arching your back, you let out a huff and roll your hips in undulating waves, cunt engulfing him over and over and soiling it with your juices.

You feel his tip bumping against your sweet spot when Jungkook suddenly cries; two thick tears roll down his cheeks, and you bend over to kiss them clean.

“Slow, s-slower, please, go—” he sobs, face red. “Shit! I’m— fucking hell, go slow! G-go slow!”

As he pulls at the restraints in pure desperation, his hips buck into you, jerking and trembling like he’s got no control over them. Jungkook is begging you to slow down, but the blazing way he’s fucking up into you, trying to reach your breasts and suck on your nipples again, wanting to get rid of the restraints so that he can grab your ass and pound into your dripping pussy only fuels him.

“Shut up, little bitch,” you grunt.

Before he can say anything else, you shove your nipple into his mouth and hover over him, your core aching at the wet pressure of his tongue around your hardened buds. You pull at his hair, and his eyes suddenly roll back.

He grows harder inside of you. “Oh fuck, oh, n-no, fuck, stop!” he cries out. “Shit, stop! Slow, slow down—!”

Only when you feel him going still on the mattress and the sweet feeling of hot cum filling you up do you understand he just came inside you.

You keep bouncing on his cock, and Jungkook’s seed eventually gets pumped out of your insides by his own cock. It leaks down your inner thighs and pools on his lower stomach, but you only lean onto him to bite on his neck while he sobs at the painful yet glorious feeling of your pussy milking every last drop of his yummy cum.

“Oh, baby,” you coo with amusement, scratching down his chest, “you just made this so much easier.”

Overstimulation kicks in when you resume bouncing on his spent cock, careful not to let him slide out of your cunt; Jungkook sobs and grunts as he writhes on the bed, pulling the restraints.

You grab his chin and spit into his mouth before you kiss him hard. Your teeth leave small bites on his lips and chin, peppering short kisses to swallow his sobs, embracing him to restrict his squirms. He’s crying so prettily into your lips, you want to eat him up.

“Please, p-please—! Hurts!”

Sucking the flesh of his neck, you let the red mark blossom. “A deal is a deal, sweetheart.”

Deal or no deal, you ride him chasing your climax, sweating and melting into him. Your clit rubs against his pubic bone, and the coiling tension in the pit of your stomach tightens. Jungkook writhes beneath you, and his toes curl in a poor attempt to let out a little of the pleasure that pushes him towards another orgasm. The sight of his cum dripping down your legs mesmerises him, your pussy engulfing his cock over and over again.

Fuck, you look so hot right now; he’s going to explode in a heart-shaped puddle of pleasure, he can’t stop the tears either. It’s torture, the best kind, how you’re touching him, stroking his skin, licking down his lips to his sweaty chest, playing with his hair. There’s almost a certain sense of affection in the ways of your hands.

“Please,” Jungkook cries out.

“Fuck,” you moan, closing your eyes. “Baby, you’re gonna make me come~“

Your words make his heart stop for a second. They fuel a fire in his abdomen and raise goosebumps all over his skin, and Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath as the pain starts to mix with the tortuous pleasure.

You keep bouncing on him, ass striking against his hips at a brutal pace. “God! Shit, shit, baby, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

“Please!” he begs.

The ache between your thighs makes your core tighten, your muscles burn, your sweat is boiling on your skin, dripping down between your breasts.

With one last powerful thrust, the tension snaps, and suddenly you’re bursting out in an explosive orgasm, squirting all over him. You scream out, squishing his cock with your dripping walls, moaning his name and burying your nails in his chest. The shockwaves grip your body, and you ride out your orgasm with slower rolls of your hips.

“Fuck, baby,” you let out in a weak breath, “you made me spill myself all over you.”

When you finally peel your eyes open, you notice Jungkook staring down at the pool of fluid on his lower stomach. His pupils are so dilated that they merge with his irises. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, and his hips are bucking into you subconsciously.

“M-mommy—”

You’re too exhausted to be careful not to drop on top of him and leave a feverish trail of kisses down his neck, holding his face and brushing your lips together, swirling your tongue around his.

“Mommy,” he calls again.

“Yeah…?”

“I’m—” Jungkook lets out a whimper when you shove your hand between his legs. “I’m c-close.”

“Again?” you ask with a hint of mockery in your voice.

He pouts and closes his lips in embarrassment, but the way his cock throbs and twitches as you circle the tip of your index finger on his cock feels too good to stifle his noises. You have such cute hands; he’d die just to see them covered in his cum.

You move down his body in a trail of kisses and nibbles, enjoying the smell of his skin, so warm and intense. The room smells of sex, and it turns you on so much that your mouth salivates.

“Let me take care of you.”

Scooting between his legs, you stroke up and down his Apollo’s belt as he arches his back into the touch, desperate to come. His cock pressed against his tummy, you grab it and spit on it right before dipping your tongue into the slit. Jungkook pants in surprise and squirms and, making eye contact, you part your lips around his cock and swallow around it.

Jungkook whines and tries his best to hold his hips still, but the feeling of being engulfed in your wet heat only engorges the tension in the pit of his stomach. Don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, not yet, he chants in his head.

Sucking and bobbing your head on his cock, you enjoy how he responds to your touch; Jungkook is burning all over, writhing, twitching between your lips at the suction.

“Fuck,” he gasps, “y-your mouth—”

You don’t bother to reply and simply hum around his cock, and the vibrations send shivers of pleasure down his spine. His eyes stare at your lips, darkened and wet with saliva so, using hands and lips together, you start sucking his tip with sloppy strokes of your tongue and suction from your lips as your hands play with his balls. Jungkook lets out a breath moan, increasingly agitated and desperate.

Then you slide him out of your mouth, and he stares at you a bit confused – until he sees the way you just hover over him with your mouth wide open above his tip and gets it. Shyly, Jungkook bucks his hips into your wet heat, letting out a muffled moan.

“You— you can’t be for real—” he whines.

You tilt your head in silence, waiting for him to shove his cock into your mouth again.

He starts fucking your mouth with desperate thrusts, hitting the back of your throat. Tears make his vision blurry, and a wave of heat spreads under his skin. He’s half ashamed, half turned on just at the very thought of him having to fuck your face to cum while you stay there, hovering over him with your mouth open. The grip of your tongue around his cock is heavy and wet, you’re so mean to him, just letting him jerk his hips like a bitch in heat.

“I’m gonna— fuck!” Jungkook lets out a grunt and a desperate gasp, fighting the restraints and fleeing your mouth; but you grab his ass again and bury his cock into your mouth until your nose is pressed against his pubic bone, and you hollow your cheeks, fucking him between your lips. “C-coming! Slow, s-slow down, I’m— oh fuck, please!” he sobs.

His hips stutter, and suddenly he’s spilling himself into your mouth, dissolving into pleasure with a choked sob and your name on his lips. It’s bitter, but Jungkook’s contracted face, with two thick tears soaking down to the corners of his lips, and red cheeks makes it all worthwhile.

You help him ride out his climax with your hand wrapped around his cum-stained cock, but soon Jungkook is writhing beneath you and bursting out in tears of actual pain, and you let go of him.

Lying eye to eye, he watches you lean onto him and open up your mouth; a pool of cum rests on your tongue, and he doesn’t hesitate to open his mouth and lets you kiss it back into the source system, massaging your tongues together and rolling them over each other. A drop of white cum rolls down the corner of his mouth, but you’re both too busy making out naked on top of each other to care about it.

“We’re gonna have so much fun tonight, sweetheart,” you whisper.

After a pause, you get up and reach the camera to turn it off; suddenly Jungkook snaps out of something like a dream, and he remembers that you’re actually working. A feeling of shame and sadness washes over him, and he's so exhausted both mentally and physically that he feels the urge to cry.

“Okay, I turned it off.” You rush to undo the restraints on his wrists and massage the red marks with your thumbs to get the blood circulating again. “Does it hurt? I’ll get you something for the marks.”

In a thoughtful silence, he shakes his head.

“Good.”

You turn around and lean on his legs to undo the knots of his ankles as well, and Jungkook closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. His heart is still trying to burst his ribcage open and get out of his chest, and now that the frenzy of the video is over, a dread falls over him; what is he going to do about you now?

“Uh, Y/N?” he asks, unsure.

Smiling, you look up at him with the rope in your hands. “Yes?”

Courage.

“Can I… take you out to dinner some day?”

“Don’t laugh!” you exclaim, laughing. With a napkin, you wipe away the milkshake foam that stains your chin and the corners of your lips. “It’s not funny, you should have told me earlier. I’m sure everyone has noticed.”

The terrace where you are sitting is practically deserted except for a few tourists and a couple of birds circling over your food. With the sun shining brightly above you, you prop yourself up on your elbows as your tummy aches from laughing so hard, and Jungkook glances at the menu with a growing smile.

“I didn’t know you cared so much about the opinion of three people and seven birds,” he jokes.

“Hey, it’s eight birds, sweetheart. And the tourists are carrying a camera,” you insist, grabbing the menu from him with a playful frown, “what if I come out in the background looking like Father Christmas? I’d never get over it.”

“Then Father Christmas had a glow-up – when he was a kid, he’d just eat the biscuits and leave. Anyway, should we order to share or is it every man for himself?”

“We’d better share, I want to try it all,” you murmur as you take a sip from your drink.

Jungkook frowns. “You’ll get a tummy ache like last time.”

“You don’t have to remind me!” With a giggle, he takes the menu again. “It was so embarrassing, on our first date on top of that.”

He scoops to the other side of the table and steals a kiss from you, letting you cup his face and deepen the contact. “Okay, just order anything you want,” he says, sliding the menu back to you. “I’ll eat what you can’t fit in your tummy.”

You thank him with a short peck on the lips, and Jungkook returns to his seat.

“Oh, by the way,” you say casually, stirring your milkshake with your straw, “I have some good news and some bad news, which one do you want first?”

He frowns. “Well... The bad one, I guess?”

“The bad news is that I can’t use the video we made because you can hear us saying each other’s names. The good news is that it means we can make it again.”

Don’t hesitate to like, reblog, and leave some feedback if you liked it! It’s always good and encouraging to know what you think <3

“Sideshow” is copyright ²⁰²³ Lola Bangtan, all rights reserved.

TAG LIST

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#jungkook smut #sub!jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #oneshot #jungkookff #661010 #romance #mutualpining #coffeeshop #camboy #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook bts #bts x reader

[councilsys]

system ask game for traumagenic systems <3

I: basics

❤️ - what type of CDD do you have?

🧡 - are you medically recognised/diagnosed? if not, do you plan to? (no judgement either way!)

💛 - if you are comfortable sharing, what is your headcount? do you keep track of it?

💚 - do you have a high or low split tolerance?

💙 - do you switch frequently or do you go longer periods between switching?

💜 - does your system have introjects of any kind?

🩷 - do you have any subsystems?

II: alters

🎥 - who are your frequent fronters?

📼 - do you have any non-human alters? if yes, which species are the majority of them?

🎞️ - do the alters in your system use more medical coined roles or more community coined roles? or both/neither? do you find them useful?

📽️ - are the alters in your system more distinct or less distinct from each other?

📺 - do you make/buy gifts to other alters in the systems?

🎙️ - does the taste in music vary a lot between different alters?

📻 - does your system have any type of in system relationships? (familial, romantic, platonic etc.)

III: switching

☀️ - how much amnesia do you experience?

🌙 - do you experience black out amnesia?

⚡️ - what does switching feel like for you? does it vary between alters?

☄️ - do you experience quick switches or does it take longer to switch usually?

🌈 - do you get frontstuck often? what do you do to try to get ‘un-stuck’?

☁️ - do you ever not notice you’ve switched, and suddenly realise that ‘you haven’t been you’ for a while?

💦 - can you switch ‘on command’ or is that something that is hard for your system? does it depend on the alter?

IV: headspace

🌱 - do you have a headspace? if yes, describe it! if no, do you want one?

🌿 - how easily accessed is your headspace?

☘️ - is there a place in your headspace where dormant alters go?

🌳 - do alters have their own rooms/areas in your headspace?

🌵 - is your headspace big, or smaller? is it complex/less complex?

🍃 - do you have specific alters that cannot access headspace at all?

🪴 - did you have to build your headspace over time, or was it just there?

V: general

🍭 - how did you pick your system name?

🍪 - do you have a collective name/identity/orientation? if yes, how did your system make those decisions?

🍬 - what’s the funniest thing another alter has said to you? (internally or externally communicated)

🍫 - how does your system handle in system disagreements in general?

🧁 - is there anyone specific in your system you don’t get along with?

🍰 - are you ‘out’ as a system to anyone? (online friends/partners etc. count!)

🍦 - how good is your communication with the rest of the system? does it vary much between different alters?

🍡 - are different alters part of different subcultures? which ones? (we are!)

remember that this is just for fun, and if anything feels invasive you do not have to answer the question! feel free to replace any question with a fun fact about your system or anything if you don’t feel like answering something! take care🫶🏻

#also this was done quickly so if any questions are weirdly worded or something that’s why! #endos dni #non traumagenic dni #did osdd #polyfrag did #actually dissociative #dissociative identity disorder #dissociative system #actually did #actually traumagenic #actuallydissociative #system ask game #ask game #cdd system #actually cdd #cdd community #cdd #complex dissociative disorder

[setsugekka]

❥08:27pm (m)

bang chan x fem!reader — established relationship, fluff, explicit sexual content. [1,1k wc] cws: very soft!!, penetrative sex, teasing, light dirty talking, they're very in love ♡

"Have you ever tried counting them?"

You watch Chan's silhouette raise just a bit, the outline of strong, toned arms and back seemingly ascending from the darkness of where your body lies. Your head turns back to look at him—large form held above yours and smiling down at you. Lovingly. It's always so full of love. It's just who he is and he can't help himself. 

"Suppose I should try?" you answer, reaching a hand up and gently dabbing fingertips across the speckles that adorn his face.

He smiles again, mostly with his eyes, before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, lightly placing kisses along the skin. The problem with this, though, or maybe it isn't so much a problem as it just being the matter of the situation; that only minutes before the both of you moaning, gasping into each others mouths as both of your respective orgasms washed over you. Chan's a bit later than yours, as he prefers to take in your build up—watch the way his name always catches in your throat just as you come—you only ever were able to get out that initial sound, much to his amusement.

And now the two of you lie in the afterglow of sex and one another, softening cock still embedded in you and your thighs still hung open to accommodate the width of his hips. The way his lips feel on your cooling skin beginning to reignite a fire in you, and he can feel it, the beginnings of you throbbing around him.

"Chris…" you whisper, running your hands up the soft skin of his sides and feeling the toned muscles beneath, "we just—"

"So?" he answers quickly, not letting you finish, but making a point to punctuate his thought with the gentle press of his hips into you.

You're not totally sure what the "so?" is questioning, but he's sure to spell it out for you, finally bringing his eyes back up to your own and settling himself just off of your torso—forearms propping him up on either side of you and leaning in to press his lips to your own. "Are you going to start counting?" he asks. It's coy. He's teasing you.

And you like it.

So you begin; one, two, three, easily fall from your lips only to be caught by his. You feel his lower half adjust slightly, angling in such a way that he's a bit less lazily lying into you and more to have mobility, angling in such a way that he can roll his hips into yours so that every bit of movement from his cock grants friction to your still sensitive, overstimulated clit, and the first time he does indeed roll his hips, the number four catches in your throat so hard you nearly choke on it.

Much to Chan's delight, of course. You can feel the distinct curl of lips onto your cheek. "Well don't let me stop you," he says, and it's so matter of a fact that the tone doesn't really match the situation, but he's playing with you so it's to be expected. One of Chan's hands dropping down a bit to grant him access to your breast at the same time that his mouth and teeth gently settle themselves onto your jaw—how you definitely can't count now, since you can't even see his face, although you'er fairly sure you don't remember how to, anyways.

His hand kneading into the flesh of your chest lightly, you finally surrender yourself to the sensual touches, a breathy sigh escaping, and Chan's fingers find their way to your nipple, clasping it between the boney digits and squeezing. It's a bit hard—slightly rougher than he normally is, and you jolt from it, looking at his smiling face in response.

"Don't stop counting or I'll have to punish you," he says, carrying on the light palming of the skin and once again rolling his hips into you in just the right way that it has your head spinning. "You don't want that, now do you?"

"Not sure," you respond, allowing your head to press back into the mattress and reveling in the way he makes your body feel. Chan maintains the grinding of himself into your core and you can feel the way the ministrations are having their affect on him—the way his cock is hardening inside of you again. You moan again with one particular twitch of him inside of you, but you feel the way his fingers begin searching for your nipple once more. A large part of your resolve crumbling, just wanting him to give up the game and fuck you one more time, but suppose what's a little light-hearted fun in between activities?

You bring your head up to look at him, and he looks almost surprised when he sees your face;  half-lidded eyes as if he has already put you through it. You can see the way it almost makes him shy in response, like he still can't believe he has this kind of effect on you.

"F-four," you finally manage to get out, "five, six," following shortly after, and despite the fact that it would be easy to simply pretend you're counting—you do actually take it quite a bit seriously. Not the game, but the looking at Chan. The act of visually taking in every feature and imperfection and adornment on his face.

He's still fucking into you, fully hard again. Gentle, thorough drives of himself inside of you just as you have wanted all along, and barely with any withdrawal of himself from your walls. He likes the way your head falls back again and into the mattress, and at a certain point—a point where he presumes that the game must be over, you feel him take his hand from it's placement on your chest and reposition himself above you, weight on forearms to hold himself over. 

"Chris," you whimper out with one particular press of himself into you, and he brings an arm down to hook around your leg, slinging it up to allow him a better angle, as if able to read your mind.

"Just want me to fuck my cum into you then, yeah?"

A jarring question, coming from Chan of all people, but hearing such a vulgar expression out of him with no prompting and from a man known for his shy, pulled back disposition; it drives you wild with want for him. Even if you could tell a lie, the way your body grips around him in the very moment tells the absolute truth. That is what you wanted. 

"I'll count another time," you chuckle before a moan hijacks you, and any concept of thought escapes you in favor of him.

♡ a little something for the soft and fluffy smut enjoyers.

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.

#bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz imagines #skz scenarios

[princessbrunette]

Rafe x shy reader who just nods when he says things and he taps her jaw and is like hey speak when spoken to

i feel the easy option would to be to talk about how this is totally s3!rafe, because you know — it’s just prime daddy material. he would do this kind of thing, all the time infact— but what about this rafe, on a power trip from being given more responsibility lately.

𝜗𝜚₊˚⊹♡

talking midsummers rafe, in that powder blue suit dragging around his pretty little girlfriend to show off to all of his fathers business associates that he claims will one day be men he works beside and above.

you’re overwhelmed just a little, which is why you’re happy to stay pinned to his side, a large hand splayed across your back to keep you there. he does all the talking thankfully, charismatic and knowing all the right things to say to get the men laughing in that uppity jaunty manner with their drinks clutched in their fist. he was still rafe, still always a little too obscene and immature around the edges — but ward didn’t give him nearly enough credit on how good he was at being a guy, and that seemed to charm the crowd especially the more they drank.

you do as you were instructed, stand there — smile, look pretty, nod when necessary, but of course as expected some questions were often directed at you out of pure politeness. you were painfully shy, so you’d often squeak out a response with as few words as possible. it mostly didn’t seem to bother rafe in the slightest, and if he thought your answer required more words he’d give your waist a squeeze where his hand rested to force more of a response out of you.

after a while, rafe walks you to a corner where there were no eyes on the two of you— deciding now was the time to check in on you. “you good? you’re real quiet… you know that?” he leans forward a little, bending ever so slightly at the waist to be heard over the music.

“yeah, just shy.” you shrug, not meeting his eye. you were a little intimidated by him at times, but it was mainly due to how attractive you were finding him in the moment.

“would you like another drink? t’help you out with that?”

you think, staring off away from him dreamily and he doesn’t like your lack of attention on him — so he draws it back with a sudden tap to your jaw, leaning even lower to look at you. “hey, you speak when your spoken to, yeah?”

you were used to this kind of thing from rafe, and call it what you want but the messed up side to you let it continue due to the way it drenched you each time. you would have moved on from it quickly in your brain, but just as he’d done it — you’d locked eyes with ward from across the room.

“no thank you. no drink.” you instinctively bring your hand to your jaw where he’d tapped you and he lightly bats your hand away like he wanted to hide any evidence that he’d just given you a little slap in the corner of a heavily populated party. he nods, teeth sunk in his bottom lip with a wash of guilt and he looks around for a moment, double taking at the sight of his father headed straight towards the two of you with an eerily plastered on grin. all for show, the cameron way.

“ah, shit.” the oldest cameron scratches behind his ear, suddenly not feeling so big. his father approaches, clamping a hand down on his shoulder.

“the rowans are just dying to talk to you, son. over there.” ward grins, fake as he nods towards a smiling and waving couple at the other side of the room. rafe opens his mouth to speak, and wards jaw clenches, yet his smile remains. “go.”

rafe traipses off towards the pair, and as you go to sheepishly follow him— ward places a hand on your back, looking down at you with a kind smile, a tinge of something else in his icy eyes. perhaps concern? he was potentially disturbed by what he’d seen his son do just now in public, but perhaps more disturbed by the fact he reminds him so much of himself. you weren’t too sure.

“everything okay, sweetheart?” he asks, and there’s something else in his voice. you smile, unbothered because you genuinely were. it was rafe after all, you knew what he was like and sickeningly enough — you liked it.

“yes sir! just a little tired.” you shrug bashfully and he nods slowly, smile fading as he watches his son interact enthusiastically, adjusting the older gentleman infront of him’s tie charismatically, much to his amusement.

“alright… you won’t let him bully you. okay?” he stares you down with wide eyes and you freeze slightly, giving him a smaller, shyer nod. with that, he lets you go — running along back to rafe’s side where you knew you belonged.

𝜗𝜚₊˚⊹♡

#anon #rafe cameron prompt

[hollisiguess]

im bored so y’all are getting some hazbin hcs

Alastor is aroace and agender but he does not know it he has no clue what ANY of those words mean

Rosie actually knows that Alastor is all of those but to fuck with him she doesn’t tell him however she will from time to time call him one of those (for example when she says she knows Alastor is an ace in the hole)

Alastor and Rosie are in a qpr!

Velvette and Vox are besties they will gossip about everyone and everything

Velvette is a non-binary lesbian who uses she/her

EVERYONE in hell assume that the vees are a polycule and for the chaos they never correct anyone

Velvette barely tolerates Valentino and would like to beat the shit out of him at any given time

Ok I have to restrain myself with Velvette so last one even though Vox has beef with Alastor to everyone’s shock she hangs out with him every once and a while over some tea

Lute is aroace but she and Adam are « dating » bc people kept asking Lute out would never take no for an answer and it was making her uncomfortable

Despite everything Adam does care for Lute and is a good friend towards her hence why he agreed to the fake dating plan

Vaggie before getting her wings back would get HORRIBLE phantom pain from them and whenever Charlie would ask what was up she would always dodge the questions and Charlie wanting to respect her gfs boundaries wouldn’t push to much

Vaggies love language is acts of service and Charlie’s is physical touch

Charlie ADORES Vaggies wings she thinks they make her gf even more gorgeous then she already is

Vaggie is actually insecure of her wings as they remind her of a past she’s rather forget but Charlie fawning over them does make her like her wings a bit more

If Charlie is cold Vaggie will use her wings to make her warmer

After the battle against the exorcist Vaggie went back to thank Carmilla for her help and the two got to talking and ended bonding now they meet weekly at Carmillas to practice battle together (the both enjoy it greatly) and sometimes it leads to Vaggie staying for dinner

Carmilla Carmine is essentially Vaggies mom/mentor

Vaggie bonded with Carmillas daughters and they see eachother as sisters

Charlie will sometimes head over to cannibal town to give Rosie a visit and she now calls Rosie Auntie all the time

Vaggie brought Charlie to meet Carmilla and Charlie brought Vaggie to meet Rosie (both were super nervous to meet each others respective mom/aunt figure worried they wouldn’t approve)

Husk and Cherri used to hate eachother but after Angel forced them to hang out they grew to like eachother in a I hate u and hope u die/affectionate type of way

Angel does Cherris hair and I will not elaborate

Angel can’t cook for shit and almost set the hotel on fire many times (he’s now banned from the kitchen)

Vaggie however is a great chef!

Husk taught all the members of the hotel who didn’t already know how to play poker, poker

The hotel guests now have game night which is usually the entire cast struggling while Alastor, Husk and Vaggie sweep and have a rivalry between themselves the others are trying tho!

Alastor also taught the residents chess

Nifty eats the pieces

Im not elaborating on that last one

Vaggie and Angel actually like one another (PLATONICALLY) even considering one another one of their closest friends but neither would ever admit it out loud

Alright now that that's said Angel and Vaggie have mini cooking lessons in secret (WITHOUT ANY FIRE for safety reasons ofc) so Angel can make food for his friends

Lucifer and Vaggie actually bonded a lot especially given both are fallen angels

When Lucifer found out why Vaggie was cast out and how Vaggie had to physically restrain him from (somehow don’t question how he'd even be able to get to heaven to do it) beating the shit out of Lute

Shickingly Lucifer, nifty and Husk are friends and hang out

in fact Lucifer knew Husk before the hotel and had already grown fond of him

Sir Pentious and Charlie are besties

Charlie was the first person who Sir Pentious actually told he liked Cherri (the others still knew but like he actually told Charlie)

Sir Pentious makes Alastor babysit the egg bois after the outing he had with them a while back

Sir Pentious does like Emily but she kinda makes him sad as she reminds him so much of Charlie and he cant see her anymore given she's currently in hell

Razzle was always super attached to Charlie but Dazzle wierdly enough got super attached to Vaggie making her even angrier with Lute when she killed him

Imma end the hcs here cause this is already a shit tone lol

#hazbin hotel #chaggie #rosie hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin charlie #lucifer hazbin hotel #carmilla hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #hazbin vaggie #angel dust #cherri bomb #hazbin hotel lute #for the record i have more hcs but i stopped here just for everyones sanity #lemme know if y'all want more #hazbin hotel velvette #vox hazbin hotel #appleye

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

A TRAGEDY THAT'S BUILT ON DESTINY!

I WOULD CHANGE MOST EVERY SINGLE THING. I WOULD LET YOU KISS ME, KILL ME!

synopsis// multiple different universes, but one thing remains the same: geto loves you in each and every one of them.

pairing// suguru geto x gn!reader

word count// 5.8k

contents// different universes, angst, satisfying angst?, hurt/no comfort but also hurt/comfort at the same time, ooc geto?, character death tehe

notes// inspired by everything everywhere all at once and the song kiss me kill me by mest :3 i wrote this SOOOO long ago but u have no idea how much i adore this oneshot. like i think it might be my fav oneshot ive ever written. it is everything to me!! and i did not do the idea justice but u get the point!!

December 24th 

You assume the fight is over because neither you nor Shoko have gotten any more wounded victims. The two of you glance at each other briefly but don’t bother saying anything. What could be said about a full-blown borderline war schemed by your high school best friend and lover? Nothing could possibly be said, so nothing is. The two of you stand there waiting for anything to happen, whether that’s getting called back to Jujutsu High or being brought another victim, and eventually something does happen, and Shoko gets a call. You can’t read her expression for the whole 20 seconds she’s on the phone before she passes it to you. You furrow your eyebrows in question.

“It’s Gojo,” she says blankly before attempting to hand you the phone again.

You hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“You should get down here,” he says blankly over the phone.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

“Um, yeah, just—you know those back alleys by the school?”

“Uh huh?”

“Meet me there.”

“Gojo, you’re kinda scaring me-“

“Y/N, just come; you’ll thank me—I hope.”

You frown and begrudgingly agree, “Okay, fine, yeah, whatever, I'm on my way.”

“Make it quick, alright? I'm serious,” he adds quickly before hanging up.

As you give Shoko her phone back, you roll your eyes at the fact that he didn't even give you a chance to say okay before hanging up.

“What was that about?” she wonders, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

You sigh. “No idea, but he wants me to go meet up with him for some reason.”

Shoko hums curiously. “You should get going then; must be urgent.”

You nod, “Yeah.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

It doesn't take you long to get to the school given how fast you were walking since Gojo told you to hurry it up, the tense anticipation aiding in your speed. It does, however, take you a few moments to find Gojo, but once you do, you find that he's not looking at you, but he’s speaking, and it's not to you either; it's to something—or rather someone—he's blocking with his body.

“Gojo?” you ask once you finally reach him.

Gojo turns to face you, a sorrowful smile on his face, before stepping out of the way to reveal who he was speaking to and the whole reason why he called you here in the first place.

When you see Getou on the ground, your heart sinks into your stomach, and your blood runs cold. You look back at Gojo, who merely shrugs.

“You should say your goodbyes; I already did,” Gojo whispers before leaving you and Getou alone.

Getou lets out a hushed laugh. “That’s a little melodramatic of him, don’t you think?”

The hammering of your heart roaring in your ears makes it difficult to hear what he says. You stand there frozen in what you can only describe as horror as you stare down at Getou, who's missing an arm and is only growing more pale by the second from blood loss.

“Do you plan on ignoring me?” he asks softly, as though he’d understand if that really was your plan.

You blink a few times and shake your head, your tears blurring your vision. “I dont-“ 

Getou hums appreciatively and smiles up at you, which makes you completely break down, a sob racking through your body so violently that the only thing you can do is collapse to your knees. Getou winces as he tries to sit up straighter, as if he’s going to catch you or crawl over to you. You sniffle, your sobbing uncontrollable, as you crawl to him, and once there, you let your head fall upon his blood-stained chest. Getou immediately places his only remaining hand on the back of your head, as if holding it to his chest, and gently pats your head.

“Are you an idiot?” you snap.

“Might be.” 

You sob even harder into his chest. “Why would you do this?”

Your question makes his heart race. “I wanted something better for Jujutsu society.”

You shake your head at him disapprovingly. “Why’d you have to go about it this way?”

“I don’t know Y/N," he sighs. "Does it make a difference?”

You scoff, raising your head to glare at him. “Of course it does, you idiot! You left! and had a hit placed on you! Why couldn’t you have just stayed?” You sob, letting your head fall back onto his chest. “Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as you wanted this? Why couldn’t... Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as I wanted you?”

“Y/N,” he coos regretfully, as if he doesn’t know what to say, which he doesn’t. He did want you, and he’d even go as far as saying he wanted a better jujutsu society for you so you wouldn’t have to live your days slaving away for the non-sorcerers. “Y/N, look at me.”

You shake your head and screw your eyes shut, not wanting to look at him. You don’t want to see your first and only love withering away right in front of you.

“Y/N, please look at me.”

“I-I can't."

“Y/N, open your eyes.”

The demandingness dripping from his voice has your head shooting up to look at him and your eyes opening wide, but as you open them, you’re not met with an actively dying Getou; you're met with a sunny and flower-filled meadow? You move to wipe your tears, but your face is dry. You blink a few times, trying to take in your new surroundings, given that a moment ago you were just in a dark alley and now you're sitting on a blanket in a field under a glowing sun.

“Y/N?” Someone speaks from beside you.

Your attention is drawn to the person. “Getou?” 

He smiles at you.

“Getou, where are we?” you ask, now starting to slightly panic.

He looks at you in confusion. “We’re on our date?”

Your chest heaves up and down, and you're more confused than ever. “Huh? But- We-“ 

“We what?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“We were just behind Jujutsu High; you were missing your arm, and-"

Getou scoots in closer to you and cradles your face in his hands. The feeling of a warm, full-of-life Getou touching you brings tears to your eyes all over again.

“Woah, woah, love, calm down. What are you talking about? Jujutsu High? Me missing an arm?”

“You don’t remember?” You croak out, distraught, and slightly convinced that you’re going crazy.

“Remember what, love?” he asks softly.

You stare at him in disbelief. “The fight—you wanted a better jujutsu society, and you tried? You lost your arm! You were dying; I saw you! I was there with you! You were covered in blood and-“ 

Getou gently wipes your tears away. “Love, that didn’t happen. I’m here, yeah? and I have both my arms, and there was no fight for Jujutsu society? Whatever that means..."

You blink at him, dumbfounded. “What?” 

“It was probably just a bad dream, Y/N.” He smiles at you reassuringly.

“You don’t know about jujutsu society?”

“Am I supposed to?”

You stare at him in awe. What’s happening? How could he not know about jujutsu society when it was the very thing he was fighting for? But then again, how could he not be missing an arm? And how could the two of you not be in a dark alleyway right now? How could any of this be happening? Maybe he’s right; maybe it really was a bad dream. A very vivid, detailed, lucid, and lifelike bad dream.

“I guess not,” you respond with a frown.

Getou wipes away your last few tears and smiles at you. “You’re okay; I’m okay. We’re okay. It was just a bad dream, love.”

“Yeah,” you say haltingly, "yeah, I guess it was..."

“Are you okay now?”

You nod as you take one of his hands off your face and into your own. “Yeah, I think so... Um, where are we, Getou?”

“On our weekly date?” He answers curiously as he removes his other hand from your face.

You look around at your surroundings curiously. “In the middle of a forest?”

“This is your favorite place, Y/N,” he says, quizically.

As you take another glance around, you hum, not necessarily agreeing or disagreeing. “I can see why; it’s beautiful here.”

He raises his free hand and grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Y/N, are you okay? How come you don't remember?”

You look into his eyes, and something doesn't feel right—as if you're not meant to be here—but you digress and shrug anyway. “I don't know...”

He frowns briefly before leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the lips, and you practically melt, having not felt his lips on yours for far too long.

“That's alright. We can still make the most of the rest of our day, right?”

You nod, and he smiles at your response, letting go of your face and hand to open his arms to you, inviting you into his embrace. You return the smile before laying yourself in his arms, trying to ignore the rising feeling that something is wrong, but you can't because the minute your head touches his chest, you're thrown into a moment, a memory, a dream? where you're back in the alley with your head on a bleeding-out Getou, and it's just for a split second, a flash in time, but it's enough to make you go stiff and your breath hitch.

Getou rubs his hand down your back soothingly. “Hey, what's wrong?”

You swallow harshly and try to concentrate on the green scenery in front of you rather than whatever you keep seeing. “Nothing, I'm fine. It's fine.”

Getou places his head on top of yours. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I am.”

He hums disapprovingly but doesn't press the issue any further; instead, he just runs his hand up and down your spine in an attempt to calm you down, which works as you begin to relax into his embrace and regain control of your breathing.

“What do we usually do here?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He shrugs. “Usually just talk about our days, our future plans, and stuff like that.”

You hum. “Is it nice?”

“Very nice; I like spending our days together.”

“I do too,” you correct yourself, “or I'm sure I did too.”

Getou doesn't say anything; instead, he lays himself down and, since he's holding you, takes you with him. You sigh contentedly and let your eyes flutter close, the sun and his hold keeping you warm. Suddenly, even with your eyes closed, you can tell it's getting brighter outside, and you groan. You’re about to ask what's up with the sun when a shooting pain in your head causes you to wince. Your heartbeat rings in your ears, and you can feel your hands grow clammy.

You feel unstable, as if you're no longer on the ground being held, as if you're floating through time and space, and the uncertainty forces your eyes open, but you're not met with anything—no, that's not right, you're met with everything, glimpses of time that you can barely make out. One moment you see Getou at an alter, and then you see you and Getou nodding to each other in determination, and the next glimpse is of you, Getou, Gojo, and Shoko laughing about something before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you hiss in pain, and all too suddenly, you're back on stable ground, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone.

You still hesitate to open your eyes, unsure of what you'll see, but when you can just barely make out that you're not where you were before, your eyes shoot open. You're now standing in the doorway of what appears to be the room of two teen girls, and Getou is sitting at a vanity staring at you; his hair and make-up are done, and he's frowning. Despite your confusion about where you are, you can't help but burst out into a fit of laughter.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Oh haha, yeah, keep laughing.”

You slap your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter. “What happened?”

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, mumbling, “Our daughters thought I would make a very good model, apparently.”

You go to laugh again, but it hits you, and you look at him like he's crazy. “Sorry, daughters?”

He returns the look. “Yes? Our kids?”

You look away, muttering to yourself, “We have kids...”

You didn't mean for him to hear it, but he does anyway and instantly stands up and makes his way toward you. He grabs your shoulders, drawing your attention to him, and when you look at him, he's staring back at you in concern.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You want to take him seriously, but truthfully, you can't when he’s wearing bright pink lipstick and bright pink eyeshadow. He does look cute, though. You try to bite back a smile.

“I'm sorry, but I can't take you seriously when you look like that.”

Getou sighs. “I know I look amazing. Can you try to ignore my beauty for like five seconds and tell me why you’re acting like you don't remember our kids?”

You frown. What are you supposed to tell him? That you're apparently having nightmares upon nightmares about different lives with him? And now you're not sure what's real and what's not? You can't say that, so instead you shrug and merely mutter, “You do look amazing like that, though.”

His head drops to the side at the same moment that his smile fades. “Y/N.”

“I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“Some really weird shit is going on, Getou,” you breathe out heavily.

He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing your hand and leading you to one of your apparent kids' beds, where he sits you down.

“What’s going on?”

“I don't know, and you wouldn't know either so,” you explain vaguely in frustration.

He gives your hand a squeeze. “Maybe I would?”

You shake your head. “I don’t wanna waste time on that; I don't know how long I have here.”

“What?” he asks blankly. “What do you mean you ‘don't know how long you have here’?”

“Getou,” you whine, not wanting to think or talk about it because you wouldn't even know where to start; all you want is to learn about this new nightmare and what it holds.

He relents. “Okay, I won't ask.”

You smile at him and let a moment of silence pass before asking, “What are they like?”

“Huh?”

“Our kids—daughters.”

Getou hums. “They’re great; we raised them well.”

“They are especially great at making you a model, huh?” you snicker. 

He laughs and rolls his eyes. “Oh whatever, you're just jealous they never make you model.”

You shrug. “What are their names?”

“Well, we were gonna keep the names they had when we adopted them, but they ended up not having any names at all, so we settled on Nanako and Mimiko.”

You stare at him in awe. “Did you pick the names out?”

“We both did,” he recalls fondly and vividly, as if it were just yesterday that the two of you were picking out names.

“And we are...?”

He kisses your cheek before answering, “Married—we’re married.”

You hum and raise your left hand, your gaze fixed on your ring finger. “I don't see a ring?”

He hums curiously. “You were wearing it this morning? Maybe you dropped it somewhere?”

You nod. “Yeah.. Maybe..”

Getou doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t know what to say. What could he? His partner of multiple years suddenly has some form of amnesia and can't remember that they have kids, let alone that they’re married to him. You turn to face Getou. He looks like Getou—like the Getou you know, who apparently was merely a nightmare. Besides all the makeup and stuff, he looks like Getou. He says he’s Getou, but something just feels off.

“Are you real?”

He nods. “Very real.”

You look around the room, taking in the messy vanities, the messy beds, and the drawers stuffed with clothes. “Are our kids real?”

“Extremely real.”

You study his face for any hint of uncertainty, and when you find none, you ask, “Am I real?”

He narrows his eyes at you and hums curiously. letting go of your hand only to bring both hands up to your face and start smooshing your face together, pushing and pulling at the flesh on your cheeks.

“Getou,” you mumble.

He hums approvingly and nods, letting his hands fall back to his sides. “Yep, you’re real.”

You smile at his idiotic antics but appreciate them nonetheless. And although you can touch him and feel him, and he is real, as are you and your kids, it still doesn't seem real. And then, all too suddenly, your head starts throbbing again.

“Fuck no, not again,“ you panic.

“Y/N? whats wrong-“

You can't hear what he’s saying anymore; it's like you've gone underwater and he's speaking to you from the surface. Another shooting pain in your head has your eyes screwing shut, and you know you're fucked when all you can hear is your heartbeat ringing in your ears and feel your hands grow clammy all over again. You’re back to feeling unstable, drifting between time and space once more, and just like last time, the uncertainty of the feeling forces your eyes open, and you're faced with everything again—more glimpses in time that you can barely make out.

One moment you think you see yourself back at the beginning on Getou’s cold chest, and then you see yourself and Getou covered in blood, and you're not sure if it's yours or someone else's, and the next glimpse you see is of Getou on your cold chest, like your roles had been reversed, before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you wince in pain, and finally you're back on solid ground again, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone. This time you don't hesitate to open your eyes, and you find yourself in a cemetery.

You look around curiously, trying to assess your surroundings while simultaneously trying to recover from whatever just happened. But you're starting to realize something now. All of this is real. You laying on Getou’s chest was real; having a picnic with a perfectly fine Getou in a world where curses apparently don't exist was real; having kids and marrying Getou was real; and all of those little bits of time in between each new life were real. All of it was real—is real; all of it happened—is happening; it just didn't happen to you specifically. Not this version of you, at least. You’ve realized that you’re experiencing different universes and living alternate lives of your own. You didn’t think alternate universes existed, but it's not too hard to accept when the world you live in—the world you belong to—is riddled with curses and sorcerers. You are not above believing in alternate dimensions.

Finally over your sudden epiphany, you're able to realize that you weren't immediately met with Getou like you had been the past two times you got transported into another dimension. As you put the pieces together, a grave feeling washes over you—no Getou, and you’re in a cemetery. You swallow harshly.

No, no, no.

You start running around the cemetery, inspecting each and every headstone, and praying to the universe(s) that you aren't about to find one that reads his name.

No, no, no.

You keep running, the cemetery seemingly interminable, until you run up behind someone who looks suspiciously a lot like Getou, and when you hear him murmur under his breath, you sigh heavily in relief that it is him, but why is he here? You tilt your head and try to look around him to read the gravestone.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim, stunned.

Getou spins around faster than you can even blink, and he almost chokes on his spit. “Y/N?” His chest heaves up and down as he shifts his gaze between you and the gravestone. “But-but-how-you’re-“

“Dead apparently,” you say, finishing his sentence as you stare at the gravestone that reads, "HERE LIES L/N Y/N."

He stares at you, completely bewildered, and you can see him trembling. “How—how are you here?”

Will something bad happen if you tell him this isn't your universe and there are actually multiple universes out there? Who knows, but you’re about to find out.

“I'm not, well, I'm not supposed to be.”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I'm just hallucinating; you’re not real.”

His reply breaks your heart. “I am real.”

“You’re not.”

You step forward, taking his hand in yours. “I am.”

He finally opens his eyes back up, and he stares at you through tears, completely amazed that you're here, that you're actually touching him, and that you're actually alive and real.

“I don't—I dont understand—you're dead!” He stammers, yanking his hand from yours, and as he breaks out into full-on sobs at this point, he’s reminding you an awful lot of yourself in your own world.

You nod slowly. “In this universe, it seems so... how?”

“What?” he stutters. “This universe?”

You ignore his question. “How did I die, Getou?”

He shakes his head sternly. “No, I'm not saying anything until you explain what you meant. What if you’re a curse? What if I cursed you, holy fuck? Fuck!”

“Okay, curses still exist in this universe; good to know,” you acknowledge with a nod.

Getou snaps, “What are you talking about!?”

You flinch, which only makes him sob harder.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap—I'm just so fucking confused; you're supposed to be dead,” he bawls as he falls to his knees.

You take another step closer and kneel down, drawing him into your embrace and letting him sob into your chest for as long as he needs, ignoring the horrible feeling of deja vu crawling all over you like worms.

“Shh, you're okay,” you whisper, soothingly brushing your fingers through his hair.

He finally starts to calm down after a few more minutes of whispering sweet nothings to him, and once he’s no longer sobbing, he pulls away.

“Answer my question, and I'll answer yours,” he says through sniffles.

You nod. 

“What were you talking about, universes? How are you here, Y/N? You’re dead—or you’re supposed to be...”

“Do you believe in alternate or multiple universes?”

He shrugs and wipes away any remaining tears. “I don't know; I never really thought about it.”

You hum and nod. “Right, so, uh, they exist! There are a lot of universes out there, actually." You let out an uneasy laugh.

He stares at you curiously.

“Obviously, I'm not from this universe.”

He continues staring at you.

“Oh, cmon, curses exist, but you draw the line at alternate dimensions?”

Getou frowns and says, “I guess you’re right... So you’re from a ‘different dimension’?”

You point a finger at him, narrowing your eyes. “Don't air-quote me like you don't believe me; how else would I be here right now if I were supposedly dead?”

“I don't know; that's what I'm trying to figure out!” he exclaims, gesticulating wildly.

“Can you just humor me and hear me out?”

He takes a deep breath before ultimately agreeing, “Okay, fine.”

You clasp your hands together. “Okay, um, in my universe, you’re dead.”

“What?!”

You shake your hands and your head. “Ok, no wait! You’re not dead yet, but, uh, you were like on the verge of death when I got put into another universe.”

He looks at you in disbelief. “And you just left me?!”

“It wasn't on purpose! Why would I want to leave you when you’re dying? I don't know how I ended up here! or in the last two other universes!”

He stops you and asks, "Okay, okay, wait—how am I dying?”

You look away awkwardly. “You wanted to change jujutsu society in… a not-so-friendly way... And, um, you were willing to die for your cause.”

“I'm dying the same way you did?”

You return your attention to him. “What?”

Getou nods. “Yeah.”

You shake your head. “What do you mean you're dying the same way I did?”

“In this universe, you’re the one who wanted to change jujutsu society in a... not-so-friendly way,” he explains sheepishly.

“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself.

He nods again. “So, in yours, our roles are reversed.”

“And I'm dead already? I didn't even last as long as you?”

“Well, yeah, I guess," he shrugs, "but it worked; there hasn't been a curse, at least not a special-grade one, since you died." His eyes gleam as he looks up at you. “Did I succeed?”

You bite the inside of your cheek anxiously and shake your head.

“I'm dying for nothing, then?”

You look away and mumble, “My Getou is okay with it; he knew he might fail—he knew Gojo was the only one who could probably change anything—but he still wanted to try.”

“Okay, well, this—” he gestures to himself, “Getou isn't okay with it.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, well, you’re also still alive, so it doesn't really affect you that much, now does it?”

“Still! You just told me one version of myself is dead—or dying—and I'm supposed to be chill with that?”

You stare at him blankly. “Your version of me is dead.”

Getou grows quiet, and you can almost physically see how his demeanor wilts away.

“Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he says, shaking his head. “You said you were in two other universes before this one, right?”

You nod. 

“What were they like?”

You smile as you think back on the previous universes: “We were both alive and happy, and we were together in them.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah... and curses didn't exist either.”

“Huh,” he says ambivalently, like he's not sure whether to be happy for his other selves or be bitter that that isn't him. “Tell me more?”

“In the first one, we were actually on a date in some forest that I apparently loved.”

He stares at you wide-eyed, completely engrossed in your retellings.

“In the second one, we were married.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Really?”

You nod. “We even adopted two daughters.”

“What were they like?” he wonders, enamored by some alternate universe of you two.

“I'm not sure; I didn't get to meet them,” you confess meekly. “But I know their names were Nanako and Mimiko, and they loved doing your hair and makeup. You adored them, and I'm sure I adored them too.”

He nods wistfully. “In your universe, were... were we together?”

“For a bit.” You look away sadly. “We broke up when you, uh, went off and wanted to-“

“Change jujutsu society,” he chimes in.

“Yeah... How'd you-“

“Same thing here, just roles reversed, remember?” He laughs sadly.

You nod. “Did you still love me? even after I'd gone off and did what I did?”

“I did. I do,” he quickly corrects himself. “Did you?”

“I still do.”

The two of you sit looking away from each other in glum silence. It's hard to stay upbeat about your happy alternate selves when your actual selves are currently dying or dead.

“Kinda feels like we got the short end of the stick, don't you think?” Getou mumbles softly.

“Huh?”

“Well, I mean, there are no curses in those universes, and we’re both alive and happy, but in ours we’re dead?” he elaborates.  

You nod reluctantly. “Well yeah, but I don't know; I guess it's kinda nice to know that it worked out in at least one universe.”

“Don't you wish it worked out in ours?”

“Of course I do, Getou; what kind of question is that?" you scoff. "You think I want to go back to my universe just to watch you die?”

“Well,” Getou pauses, turning to face you, “what if you don't go back?”

Your gaze zeroes in on his. “What?”

“What if you stay?…”

You abruptly stand up and chuckle uncomfortably. “Getou-“ your sentence is cut short by an echo of your name that only you seem to hear because you're the only one gazing in the general direction it seemed like it came from.

Getou joins you on your feet and follows your stare, but when he realizes you aren't staring at anything, he returns his sight to you.

“Think about it.”

His voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look back at him with a small frown.

“I'm practically dead in your universe, and you're dead in mine, but we’re together right now!" he says, taking your hand in his. "Maybe the universe put you into mine for a reason— so we don't have to go back to one where we’re not together…”

You struggle to swallow; your mouth suddenly goes dry as Getou stares at you in full, unadulterated hope, and you can't bring yourself to say anything to crush that.

“Y/N, wouldn't that be nice?”

You nod and murmur, “It would.”

“Then?” he asks expectantly.

Someone calling out your name echoes in your head again, and you quickly look down the street to now see a small, bright light in the distance, and you know your time here is soon coming to an end.

“I... I can't stay, Getou.”

His voice cracks as he panickedly asks, “Why?”

"Because,” you explain with a shake of your head, “I'm not your Y/N, and you're not my Getou.”

“I could be,” he says confidently, or he would have if it weren't for the way his voice trembled.

Your vision goes blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes as you shake your head.

“We could try!”

You sniffle and reiterate, “I can't stay.”

“Please,” he begs through his sobs. “Please, we can make it work.”

You look away from him, trying to fight back your tears, but it's futile; you’re a complete mess, just like he is now. “No.”

His hands shake as he grips your face and forces you to look at him. “Y/N, please, I'm begging you.”

“I cant.”

“Don't leave me again.”

The same voice calling out your name echoes in your head again, this time louder, and the bright light is getting bigger and closer.

“I don't want to go back to a universe where you’re just gonna leave me either, but,” you sob, weakly clinging onto the wrists of his hands that are still on your face.

“So stay.”

You shake your head and take his hands off your face. “I won't.”

Getou’s head goes limp and drops as sobs shake his entire body, and you can't help but think that's exactly how you'll look when you return to your universe and have to deal with the death of your Getou.

“Please,” he pleads.

You're both in tears as you lift his head up by his chin to look at you. The voice calling your name echoes even louder, and the bright light is getting closer by the second.

“You’re not my Getou, and I'm not your Y/N.”

He nods reluctantly. “I know, but...“

The bright light is only a few feet away at this point, and the voice echoing in your head is so loud that it's giving you a migraine—you know this is your last few minutes, if that, in this universe, so you lean in and take Getou’s lips into yours—a goodbye kiss for a Getou who you'll never see again, a goodbye kiss for a Getou who desperately needs one when he never got one from his y/n. You pull away and cradle his cheek gently.

“I have to go say goodbye to my Getou now; I think he’s waiting for me.”

He nods. “If he’s anything like me, he’ll want a goodbye kiss too.”

A faint smile tugs at your lips. “I know.”

Getou doesn't get the chance to respond when you're suddenly gone—completely vanished right before his eyes.

You, on the other hand, are back again, feeling unstable as you float through time and space, and again, the uncertainity of the feeling forces your eyes open, but this time you're met with only one thing—the image of you on your Getou’s chest. With every passing second, it grows closer, as does his voice calling out for you, and before you know it, you're back in your body, looking up at him with a gasp.

“Y/N?” he asks weakly.

You're still in tears from the previous universe as you now pull him into your embrace.

He winces, and you quickly let go of him. “Sorry.”

He smiles at you with blood in his mouth and teeth. “It's okay.”

You have to force yourself to look away to try and choke back a sob, but Getou notices immediately and slowly lifts up his remaining hand to cradle your cheek.

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

You nod. “I know.”

“You’ll be okay.”

“I know,” you croak out.

“Kiss me?” He asks out of breath, knowing he doesn't have much longer.

You don't hesitate to lean in and kiss him, ignoring how it tastes like blood and tears as well as how cold his lips feel. You ignore it because he's kissing you back. He’s kissing you with all the power his frail body can muster, and it makes up for all the years, months, weeks, days, minutes, and seconds that your lips haven’t touched. But just as quickly as he kisses you, he stops, but it's gradual; he gradually stops kissing, moving, and breathing. It doesn't take long for it to get to that point, and even when he's not kissing back, you still kiss him with some fairy-tale hope that it will bring him back, that your kiss will somehow save him, like he's Snow White and you're Prince Charming. But it doesn't.

It doesnt.

You pull away to look at Getou, whose eyes are glazed over but not closed. You sob as you reach up to close his eyes, only to let your head fall against his chest. He’s so cold. Too cold. That's why you have to stay there on top of him to keep him warm. You'll stay there all night if you have to. But you don't even get the chance to stay there for longer than a few minutes when someone suddenly pulls you off of him, and you look over your shoulder to see Gojo, who's crying as well.

“He’s gone, Y/N.”

"I know," you sniffle, “I know.”

Gojo helps you up to your feet, his hand on your waist to keep you steady as he leads you away from Getou’s body. The further you get from it, the harder you cry.

But it's okay. It’ll be okay because, even though you lost Getou in this universe, you’ll eventually be able to come to peace with it knowing that in a hundred, a thousand, and even a million other universes, you and Getou are living happily ever after.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

#jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk geto #jjk getou #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu kaisen getou #geto suguru #getou suguru #geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #getou suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #getou suguru x you #geto suguru fluff #getou suguru fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #geto x reader #getou x reader #geto fluff #getou fluff #suguru geto #jjk suguru #jjk suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen suguru #bimbo's one shots

[catcze]

OKAY BUT how about matching jewellery with Wriothesley?? You could both wear a necklace or a choker to match his vibe or maybe earrings? (The fact he's wearing some is sending me 😩 His style is really good tbh, def would let him choose my clothes) And if they're embedded with each other's initials? Even better, let the world know you belong to him, the same way he belongs to you (was inspired by your other collar drabble don't mind me 🥺👌)

AAAAA that is SO cute wtf ?!?! And so true, his style is honestly immaculate !! I got inspiredddd and wrote this (even tho it's a little more 'secret relationship for now, but wearing little tokens of each other until we make it public' kind of thing tee hee)

warning for vv slight leaks (Wriothesley's birthdate) and a slightly ooc Wrio !!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

"Your grace?"

"Yes, Sigewinne?" Wriothesley hums, not looking up from his morning paper. He holds a teacup in his other hand, the scent of freshly brewed English Breakfast filling the room.

Sigewinne is staring hard at him, head tilted as she examines the change in the Duke's wardrobe. "I can't seem to place my finger on it but your new necklace looks rather—"

Wriothesley promptly chokes on his drink, loud coughing breaking the quiet of his office as he thumps his chest, sputtering and frantically moving his paper out of the range of fire of his choking.

"—familiar."

Sigewinne hands him a handkerchief, which he takes with a wheezed word of thanks. She's squinting at him in suspicion, antennae twitching as she watches the duke squirm.

"I'm afraid I don't follow," Wriothesley coughs one last time into the handkerchief, clearing his throat in an attempt to get rid of the roughness in his voice. It doesn't work. "Perhaps you're mistaken, Sigewinne. Are you certain that you haven't just seen someone around the fortress using something similar? Or maybe you saw it in fashion on the surface."

Sigewinne is sure she hasn't. She just hums in thought, placing her hands on her hips as she continues to evaluate the necklace, while Wriothesley pointedly does not meet her gaze.

It's a simple thing, really. A silver circle on a thin silver chain, and from this distance Sigewinne can barely make out what looks like two letters and a date carved on it. It's this simplicity, actually, that makes it stand out amidst the Duke's otherwise chunky and bold accessories.

Sigewinne keeps staring, trying to remember just where oh where had she seen something like that before, and why does it nag her so much that she can't recall. Wriothesley doesn't offer up any information, however, having chosen to pour himself another cup of tea and resuming reading his paper.

Eventually, the nurse relents and turns to head down the staircase to leave his office with a word of farewell thrown over her shoulder, still bothered by the mystery that she just can't solve, but knowing what the Duke is like when he clams up.

"Oh! Hi, Sigewinne!" You greet, almost running into her as she descends, while you yourself are on your way up. You reach out a hand to steady her lest she roll down the rest of the way. "Leaving already? Everything alright?"

"Everything is fine," she says kindly, patting your arm in thanks as she looks up to your face. "Some patients to check on, but otherwise nothing particularly noteworthy. His Grace just refuses to answer any of my questions, however..."

But then her eyes catch on something shiny on your neck. Something shiny, and looking awfully like the object of her interest just a few short minutes ago. She glances at it, and as close as she is, she can make out what is carved on the pendant around your neck: A simple W and the date November 23 written underneath it.

She pauses mid-sentence, turning to glance over her shoulder.

Wriothesley is still reading his paper, but from here even she can see how he's trying to subtly glance over it in your direction. His fingers clench the sheets in anticipation and how his boot has started to tap on the floor despite his show of nonchalance. She looks at the pot of tea he had put out earlier, notices just how much tea there still seems to be in it, and the extra teacup that she had asked about earlier when she had first come in.

Just in case a guest stops by, he had told her, and nothing after that. Suddenly, she has a pretty good guess of what is written on his grace's necklace.

"Nevermind," she corrects, trying not to smile too widely. "But I certainly have to be going. Enjoy your... meeting with his grace. I'll see you later!"

You blink at her abrupt departure. "Oh? Okay. Uh... Bye, Sigewinne. See you soon!"

She nods, hurriedly excusing herself in an attempt to give you two some privacy, finally letting her happy little grin show once she was no longer in sight. She shuts the doors behind her and takes a moment, then practically skips her way back to the infirmary, her steps light and joyful.

I'm glad. They deserve to be happy together.

#astronetwrk #「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #Wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #cw gn reader #Wriothesley #Genshin Impact