#and its like oh u should make friends or something so u can get out of ur own head but like idk ppl are exhausting and i dont like

[sibylsleaves]

rewatched 7x05 in its entirety and the entire conversation buck has with maddie is SO funny from maddie's perspective. like.

The FIRST thing he says. NO OTHER CONTEXT. is that he lied to eddie and it's eating him up inside.

Maddie is sitting there thinking like oh boy. lied to eddie??? Ok. what's all this then.

Buck explains about being on a date, running into Eddie and Marisol etc etc etc and after Maddie rules out buck doing something TRULY wild like dating a celebrity or a married woman she's run out of possible options as to like. WHY did Buck lie to Eddie? So ofc she asks him, why did you did that.

Buck is like I don't know.

NOW IF IM MADDIE. sitting here wondering why my baby brother just lied to his bestie about being on a date for no apparent reason. like. She's GOT to be wondering, right??? She's gotta be like. Something has CHANGED between Buck and Eddie and Buck now, out of nowhere, seems to NOT want to tell Eddie he's dating someone. WHATS all this then.

Finally she gets the crucial piece of information that oh yeah, i was on a date with a guy, no big deal maddie NOT THE POINT. obviously i check out hot guys' asses CAN WE PLEASE FOCUS

now things are making sense again. Maddie's like, yeah actually, kind of the point. You felt weird about telling Eddie you were on a date with a guy when no one, not even you, even knew you were interested in guys before. that totally tracks, very reasonable actually.

except then. THEN. Buck reveals the second crucial piece of information. that the guy Buck was on a date with. was Tommy. as in BBPU double-u backslash TOMMY. TOMMY FROM THE CALENDAR TOMMY!!!!!! WHOM. LAST MADDIE CHECKED. IS BUCK'S SOLE RIVAL IN THE BATTLE FOR EDDIE'S ATTENTION THAT HE MADE UP IN HIS HEAD.

at this point, in maddie's head she's gotta be like. ah. my little brother has entered into some kind of insane gay psychodrama of triangulated desire the likes of which patricia highsmith could only dream of. and she's just like well. it seems that your problem might be that you were on a date with a man whom not one week ago you were competing with for your best friend's attention, and now you are lying to said best friend about it and THAT PART is what made you spiral so hard you showed up at my door like a guilty puppy. and frankly. as a woman who is happily nearly-married to the love of my life whom i have a three-year-old with i am not qualified to tell you what the FUCK it is you think you are doing here. so. you should tell eddie your feelings, which you still don't understand, at some point i guess! godspeed little brother

#sibyl speaks #and then one week later buck and his best friend show up to her wedding looking like shit and telling her they LOST HEr HUSbAND #god grant this woman the patience to not throttle her insane bisexual brother

[siobhanromee]

why does no one understand the importance of privacy any more (/nobody here)

#Like my irl friends are not totally freaked out by the whole live 365 thing #Like I HATE the idea that someone can know where you are at all times #It's so scary #And then if you voice this opinion #People are like are you trying to hide something? And the thing is I want to be able to should i need to #Like i dont want people asking why I'm going to a certain doctor or why I shop where I shop #Or like who's house I'm at #And I know it is genuine concern on the part of some people but it's so fucking scary #And then theres the whole instagram thingy #Which I only really have bc I hate being left out #and it makes it really easy to start conversation bc someone can post that they went to a movie and I can say oh I saw that one did u enjoy #And so on and so forth #But like I dont like that everyone has to have it and wants to have yours #And my brother who I detest came into my room and was like what are you trying to hide #When I turned off my phone #Like I wasnt even doing anything other than watching a youtube video abt conservative book banning #Which he would find boring. And I dont want him to know what I'm watching because I hate him and I dont want him to know what I care abt #Bc anything I care abt can be something he can bully me over #And he never fucking listens when I tell him to stop. Not sure how I'm going to get through another year at home #He makes me so miserable and then nobody does anything abt it and when someone does make a consequence hes like 'oh its bc your the fa.. #..favourite child' #And he was like I know you have an Instagram account which like i was technically not supposed to have as a teen. But I'm a legal adult and #I can do what I want now #at least in that aspect #Oh and ppl excuse his behaviour bc hes a boy. Well I'm a fucking boy too and I never pulled that shit. (Ig I'm a man now. Weird to call mys #...myself that. Young man makes a little more sense) #Damn this started as a vent abt privacy but it's really abt my brother #Honest to god wish I wasnt related #Or at least that I didnt have to deal with him #And he calls me stupid sometimes bc I dont get his jokes and I respond seriously to his jestful questions and

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#apologies for being whiny yet again but alas humans r social creatures and i have no desire to interact with physical ppl lmao #its just that im so so tired. ive been working on this manuscript for the last 2 weeks and i hate it so much. so i spend all week like i #cant wait for the weekend when i can avoid this. but my obsessive brain must have something to get obsessive abt and if its not work then #its something else and rn i can feel it creeping into my drawing. like i just want to draw all the time. more and more and more. i can feel #the goalpost shifting on what's qualities as acceptable and on one hand i feel like ive gotten a lot better in a short period of time but #but also it means i sit there for like 6hrs coloring until my legs hurt and ive wasted so much time and i spend hours filpping back and #forth. unable to commit to drawing any one thing. which is very annoying. idk its just exhausting bc all i can think abt is all the things #i should be doing instead but im stuck there until i can get x thing done #and i put so much pressure on the time i have to draw that most of the time im too paralyzed to do anything #bc executive dysfunction annoyingness. and my brain makes me stay up so late and wake up so early. im just tired #so im making myself miserable in all aspects of life. like no. stop that. pls #its just this like crazy frantic anxious energy constantly spinning in my chest #and its like oh u should make friends or something so u can get out of ur own head but like idk ppl are exhausting and i dont like #listening to myself talk. i find it personally annoying lol. i feel like some sort of alien when i go to lab meetings. like i see what's #happening and i understand the structure but like in a synical way. like im not reacting how im supposed to. the interactions dont make me #feel anything. i feel the same way when i go to the zoo or something. like im supposed to feel something but its not there. im forming #memories but then when i hear ppl reminisce abt it. its like oh yea i guess that did happen. i dont have the fond memories u seem to have. #i dont feel anything abt it. so then whats the point of doing things like that? its just a waste of time and money if im not gonna enjoy it #my emotions seem to shift between light misery and an obsessive almost manic focus. so ill smile abt thing but something deep in my chest #feels wrong. weird emotional disonace. agh. idk its just annoying and ive gotta sort myself out b4 i have to take a like 18hr car ride with #my boss in like 3 weeks or something. blah! i should just sleep more. that would prob help #unrelated #in a lab meeting once i got asked what i do to relax and im like. i dont. and my boss was like what abt drawing? #and i was like ahah i like to draw but im so obsessive abt it that its something i have to do #so its not so much fun as it is stressful so yeah i dont relax

[moonstruckme]

oh my god i was hoping u werent sick (no pun intended unless…) of all the doc rem requests!!!

can we get not just a regular doc rem but a casually dominant doc rem. like he’ll make sure ur drinking ur water, fixing ur posture by pulling your shoulders back gently, forcing u to put on a jacket if its just a tad 🤏🏻 bit cold outside

and ofc will scold u (lovingly) in the process. fem!reader is all like 🙄 but loves how much he cares about her

You're a genius for this lovely, thanks for requesting!

cw: alcohol

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 994 words

Your throat’s been bothering you since you woke up. It’s just a little scratchy, barely anything, but it feels like an ill omen. Still, you’re not going to bring your life to a halt on the slim chance the tickle in your throat is going to turn into something worse, and Remus would never hear the end of it if you skipped out on one of Sirius’ things anyway. 

You probably should have abstained from drinking, though. You’ve only had one, but now your throat hurts worse, the music and chatter are too grating, and your head feels a tad fuzzier than it ought to. Sirius and Remus have gone from bickering about music to teaming up against James to bicker about films without your noticing, and now Lily’s offering you another drink and you have to ask her to repeat herself before declining. There’s an inconvenient ache blooming behind your eyes. 

You know you’ve been sussed out when Remus wraps his hands around your hips, pulling you into his lap. 

“You’re quiet,” he murmurs. “Everything alright?” 

“Mhm.” You leave it at that, leaning a back against his chest. 

He hums. “Did you finish your water today?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What have you had to eat?” 

You roll your eyes. Remus knows, somehow. He gives your hip a warning squeeze. 

“Rem, I’m fine.” 

“What have you eaten?”

You tell him, as if he wasn’t there for breakfast and didn’t pack your lunch himself. He nods, reassured you’d finished it all. 

“You seem knackered for only having had one drink,” he observes. 

You shrug. “I’m just not up to more tonight.” 

It’s the wrong thing to say. 

Remus hums, his grip adjusting just slightly to hold you more securely against him. “Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m just a bit tired.” 

“Dove.” Your boyfriend has several tones you know well enough to pick up on a single word. This one is all too familiar. It’s mistrustful, admonishing, heavy with the weight of implied consequence. It says, I know you’re not being fully honest with me. 

James may not pick up on all that, but he recognizes the shift in Remus’ attention, one of your boyfriend’s lengthy hands splaying protectively over your stomach. He sends you an amused look, which you return with a touch of loving pique, and then Remus is turning you around in his lap. 

“Dove,” he says again, breath fanning over your face and eyes boring into yours and overall torturously close to you, “are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” 

You give up on denials, turning your eyes up to his pleadingly. “It’s really not bad,” you try.

Remus is unmoved. “Tell me, and I’ll say if it’s bad.” 

“I don’t want to make it a thing.” 

“You’re not. Go on.” 

You sigh, squirming under the attention you can feel at your back. Remus’ friends have continued talking, but you know his behavior has caught their attention. “My throat’s just a bit sore,” you admit, “and I guess the alcohol must’ve made it worse.” Remus sets a hand to your forehead, nodding for you to continue. “I feel a bit more affected than I usually would, so I decided to stop. That’s all.” 

“Well, you don’t have a fever.” You release a tiny exhale, and Remus’ lips twitch. “How long has your throat been bothering you, sweetheart?” 

You consider lying, but it’ll only make things worse. “Since this morning.” 

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but your boyfriend’s stare beats that easily. “You ought to have told me,” he says in a low voice. 

“It’s just a sore throat.” You roll your eyes. Remus makes a soft tsking sound that lets you know he’ll remember it. 

“I have you talk to me about these things for a reason,” he says. “Do you know why that is?” 

You’d really rather not enable him, but you’re trapped. You let your expression convey your reluctance. “Why?” 

“Because I’d tell you,” he slips one hand beneath your top, thumb sweeping across your side in the way that softens you like butter, “not to drink when you’re coming down with something.” 

“I don’t know if I am,” you say weakly. 

“Hopefully not.” Remus smears a kiss across your forehead, reaching for his coat. “But if you are, we might still be able to avoid it if you let yourself rest. Y/N’s not feeling well,” he explains to Sirius when the other boy notices his preparations for departure. “I’m going to take her home.” 

“Aw, I didn’t know you were sick,” James covers for his sour friend, who’s still looking like he might protest. 

“I’m not,” you say, but Remus ushers you towards the door. 

Lily gives you a kind look, glancing knowingly towards your boyfriend. “Feel better, love.” 

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he placates his friends, placing his jacket over your shoulders. He opens the door for you, and seems all too prepared for the argument on the tip of your tongue when you step outside. “Don’t take off the jacket. You should have brought your own, but now that you’re sick I don’t want to risk weakening your immune system.” 

“I’m not sick,” you insist, starting to shrug the jacket off despite his hands pinning it to you. “And it’s barely cold out here.” 

Remus levels you with a look. “Keep it on.” 

You huff but stop your attempts to remove the covering, trying not to notice how Remus has slowed his brisk pace to accommodate you. “Why did we have to leave?” you ask. “I’m not feeling that bad, really.” 

“I figured you wouldn't want me looking down your throat with a flashlight in front of everyone.” You purse your lips, and Remus grins, wrapping an arm around you. He rubs your shoulder through the material of his jacket. “I’m looking out for you in more ways than one, dove,” he teases, “you can trust in that.”

#doctor!remus #doctor!remus lupin #doctor!remus x reader #remus lupin au #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x self insert #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin oneshot #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #hp marauders #the marauders #marauders x reader

[bunni-v1]

hii,

Can i request che‘nya, neige and rollo finding out you‘re a girl please?

(Just if u weite for em)

Freaking love ur serie 😍

Side Characters Find Out You’re A Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)

TW: Rollo

Info: Che’nya, Niege, and Rollo x Reader

🍓Thank you! I'm glad people enjoyed this series so much, it was very fun to write. This is the last part I'm afraid, but I hope it is a fitting goodbye to what has been a very long-running series now lol. Excited to move on to other things!

Tags: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck @squidsailing

Che’nya

-Oooooo, Che’nya knows something is up the moment he (creepily) stalks you and the others from the garden.

-His sniffer isn’t as good as Leona’s — he’s just a tomcat, after all — but he can smell that something about you isn’t right.

-Plus, he’s a master of bending the truth, he can see through your lie a mile away.

-Still, he has no reason to bother you about it — he doesn’t even know you. 

-He just thinks you’re a little funny that you’d hide something as pointless as this.

-Doesn’t really have confirmation on it until he asks Cater at the tea party.

-Then he later asks Trey who is like ‘Yeahhhhh…’

-Again, he doesn’t really know you, but he does think you’re cute and stuff.

-He sees your around when he sneaks on campus, and he was happy to bump into you at the VDC.

-(He scored your number there, lets go Che’nya).

-Nah, you two don’t really get to interact until Noble Bell College.

-He’s excited to see you again, and really chats you up this time (everyone there thinks its weird, he literally has no reason to talk to you).

-You’re alone with him and Niege and Grim when he drops the bombshell of “A pretty girl like you should be wearing a dress, right?”

-You don’t know if Trey or Cater or even Riddle told him, but you were gonna deck them across the face the second you found out.

-Still, despite him outing you to Niege, he’s really only mildly annoying about it.

-He teases you and picks on you about it, but he’s more like an annoying older brother than a creep.

-He will hang it over your head though, because they way you get all huffy is funny and cute to him.

Neige

-Other than Che’nya— Neige really doesn’t suspect much.

-I mean, look at him and Vil. Feminine men is not his biggest concern.

-He respects you and your pronouns and he’s a real big sweetheart.

-He is… drawn to you, just a little. 

-You’re different from the other students, and you managed to make friend with Vil, so excuse him for being a little curious.

-Despie Vil being vehemently against it, you and him exchange numbers and start talking casually.

-It’s pretty normal stuff, and it’s not like you’re talking every day, but you consider each other friends at the very least.

-You’re both very excited to see each other again at Nobel Bell College.

-Neige feels bad that you’re sort of forced to go and babysit, but he gets to see you again!

-You bump into him and Che’nya at the fesitval, and Neige is… notably weirded out by Che’nya’s overt friendliness with you.

-“He’s never this nice with people he doesn’t know — never. It’s so weird.” He tells you.

-You brush off his concerns, and you live to pay for it too.

-You and Neige were just chilling, talking, and hanging out for the first time in person and Che’nya walked over and joined the conversation.

-All is good until he drops the one-liner of a century, leaving both you and Neige in shock.

-You because how did he find out, Neige because oh my god you’re a woman.

-He feels even WORSE for you now.

-I mean, being the only woman at NRC has gotta be awful.

-He doesn’t make a big deal out of it, bless his soul.

-He just shrugs it off and also offers his room as sanctuary on the weekends if you need it. 

-He does agree with Che’nya, though, you would look very pretty in a nice flowing ballgown!

Rollo

-Bless this little freaks soul. He is about as sheltered as Malleus and about ten times more evil.

-He, somehow, knows something about you is different from the get-go. Not just your inability for magic, no something more.

-Naturally, he is drawn to you, and evermore curious about you and your life at NRC.

-He, being observant, takes note that you are treated slightly differently by your fellow classmates.

-They are generally more respectful and courteous toward you — gentlemanly in some cases.

-It only makes his interest in you grow. What is it that is so special about you? 

-Then he overhears a conversation with Niege and Che’nya, and it all makes so much sense!

-You are a woman, of course you are. No wonder you were so captivating.

-Rollo holds this card close to his chest — he needs not reveal his secrets.

-Malleus is fond of you — as are the other magicians here. That could be useful.

-This information could aid him in his ultimate plan — and he could be your savior from the beasts you live amongst. 

-He reveals that he knows your gender in front of everyone at the festival, and takes you captive as his own.

-He is so diluted in thinking that he is your saving grace, and that what he is doing is so right and justified that he can’t hear you curing him out over his own thoughts.

-Obviously, you get saved by your friends and all is well, but now a whole lot of people who shouldn’t know you are a woman do, and Crowley has to do a LOT of PR work lol.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #bunni's treats 🧁 #che'nya x reader #che'nya twst #rollo flamm #rollo flamme x reader #neige leblanche #neige x reader

[diordeer]

౨ৎ SOMEONE LIKE YOU

“i've been searchin' a long time for someone exactly like you, i’ve been travelin' all around the world waitin' for you to come through” - van morrison (smau)

contains: charlie bushnell x fem!reader, where they play in a movie adaptation of ‘better than the movies’ also pls ignore how i spelt ‘preparation’ wrong

description: i cant lie, before i saw this request i hadnt read the book but my friend had and she loved it so i was like ok lets impulse buy it… let me tell u i finished it so quick im OBSESSED

requested by: @taysbeauty

Liked by iamcharliebushnell, momonatamada and others

yn.ln in the winter in the icy outdoor pool when u jumped in first i went in too!!

tagged iamcharliebushnell

user1 THE DREAM CASTING OMG

user2 “I WANTED WES” 😖😖😖

↳ user3 she gets it

user4 only one more week until this god sent movie comes out 🫡

↳ user5 i think it should be a law to watch every romcom mentioned before watching this in the cinema

↳ yn.ln how can i make this an actual law

iamcharliebushnell im with u even if it makes me blue 🥶🥶

user7 we all know the soundtrack for this movie is gonna HIT

↳ user8 imagine if taylor swift released new years day (taylors version) for it!

↳ user9 i honestly doubt it but i WISH

momonatamada ahhh i cant wait!!

user6 me patiently waiting for the scene when wes reads over livs shoulder ☺️

↳ user11 the tension 😫

user10 i will now never watch a romcom if it doesnt have charlie and yn as the love interests

yn.ln just posted on their story

Seen by dior.n.goodjohn, sabrinacarpenter and others

Liked by yn.ln, walker.scobell and others

iamcharliebushnell how you swoon me like no other!

tagged yn.ln

View all comments.

user1 can we talk ab how charlie probs took that photo of yn 🩷

user2 IS THAT MR FITZ PERVERT

↳ yn.ln no its michael

user3 them captioning their posts with lyrics from liz and wes’ playlist is KILLING ME

user4 guys i just saw the film wtf it was everything i imagined and MORE

↳ user5 any scene with yn and charlie made me physically kick my legs and giggle in the cinema

yn.ln ooomg do iiii 🤭🤭

↳ iamcharliebushnell i wouldnt say swoon

↳ yn.ln yet u did 🤨

user6 can we talk about their on AND off chemistry pls

↳ user7 THEY ARE LITERALLY IRL WES AND LIZ

dior.n.goodjohn charlie in a romcom?!

↳ iamcharliebushnell u got something against that? 😧🤨

↳ dior.n.goodjohn never!!

user8 dream man playing a dream man

walker.scobell finally he plays a good guy 🙄

↳ iamcharliebushnell i betrayed everyone ONE TIME, get over it

user9 the way better than the movies has almost every trope in the books is insane

Liked by iamcharliebushnell, kiernanshipka and others

yn.ln hold on to the memories, they will hold onto you!!!!!!

tagged iamcharliebushnell

View all comments.

iamcharliebushnell did u actually just mug me off in the first pic while u look gorgeous in the last one?! absolute bias

↳ yn.ln u look great wdym 😃 plus! i think i got a pretty good photo of u in my last post

↳ iamcharliebushnell mhmm

user1 casually flicking past may jailer?!

↳ yn.ln im posing so cool in the photo, the second charlie took the photo i SCRAMBLED to the till to buy it

↳ iamcharliebushnell can confirm!!

user2 omg their latest interview together i cant 😣🩷

↳ user3 the way charlie looks at yn!!!!!!!

↳ user5 the things i would do for a relationship like theirs

↳ user4 lets be real if anyone played a relationship like liz and wes’ in a movie… you would 100% fall in love

↳ user6 guys they havent even said anything about being together!! and even if they are let them be

↳ user5 OH MY GOD its not that big of a deal get over it user6

kiernanshipka just saw the film, you were incredible!!

↳ yn.ln OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU

taglist: @lostinhisworld @lizziesfirstwife @auttumnsayshi @silkenthusiasts @taygrls @kidkrowk @kanojous @niktwazny303 @m00ng4z3r @highfidelities

#charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #smau #social media au #aesthetic #charlie bushnell #in the know #x reader #better than the movies #wes bennett

[princessbrunette]

asking rafe for a nutting vid? it's okay if you don't want to write tysm!

u r so real for this request !

☆🫖➛🎀*.☽

rafe was going away for a week, some business trip with his dad that he couldn’t get out of. naturally, you found a week to be a very long time — so the evening before he leaves, he’s at your place to spend some time with you. the time finally comes where he has to leave to go home, and you’re clinging onto him, teary eyed and pouty.

“you can survive a week, kid.” a smirks, squeezing your hips where the two of you stand in the dimly lit hallway infront of your front door, not wanting him to go just yet.

“its a long time… and you’re not a good texter. not even gonna get to talk to you much.” you huff, already finding problems with his plans to go away. he licks his lips, shaking his head as he stares off, cupping the back of your head affectionately as he thinks.

“well what do you want me to do, huh? not like i can back out of it. time will fly, you’ll barely notice i’m gone.” he shrugs, trying to be as reassuring as he can possible muster up. he was learning still, being a boyfriend wasn’t really second nature to him.

“buuuuut…” you look at the ceiling, trying to come up with another reason he should stay, moreso trying to keep the conversation going on for longer to delay him leaving. you stifle a giggle. “i’m going to be left unsatisfied. s’not very nice of you.”

“unfortunately, you are going to have to do some of the work for once n’get yourself off. think you can manage that?” he drawls, keeping his voice low as he holds you closely to him. if he hadn’t fucked you within an inch of your life earlier on to tide over your withdrawals for the week to come — you might’ve tried to initiate something right there and then to convince him.

“will you call and help me?” you bat your lashes, putty in his arms.

“gonna be with my dad 24/7. don’t think he’d… appreciate that.” he blinks and you slump. after a silence, he opens his mouth to speak — attempting to once again say goodbye for the sixth time before an idea strikes you and you interrupt.

“wait, rafey do you think you could…” you get shy on him, giggling and dropping your forehead to his chest. he draws back, shifting on his feet with a slight impatience.

“what? hm?”

you look up, a seriousness held in your gaze and you fiddle with his shirt button again. “could you… make me a video? to help me?” you smile and he thinks he’s being mocked so he sighs, lips pressed together petulantly.

“the hell do i look like to you, hm—”

“rafe please, just — just a video of you making yourself feel good… you know, the ending… with the sound on.” your voice is quiet, not quite knowing how he’ll take it. he lets out a long exhale through his mouth, shaking his head as he thinks before shrugging.

“alright— maybe, okay? i’ll— i’ll think about it. now can i get a kiss because i am leaving.” he puts his foot down, knowing you’ll keep finding reasons for him to stay.

you feel he has pretty much dismissed your request, so you dismiss it too— forgetting all about it as you sulk in bed that night, nighttime routine finally done as you prepare to go to sleep. infact, you’re literally about to put your phone down when your phone dings.

one attachment from rafe.

you open the message, but as soon as you do— your phone rings, the contact picture of him steering his boat flashing up on your screen.

“hello?”

“its done, alright — and you’re only getting one of these videos so i suggest you wait until you really need it to watch it. yeah?” his voice sounds through your phone and a grin spreads onto your face, realising what he’s talking about.

“oh thank you rafe!” you all but squeal and you practically feel him roll his eyes through the phone.

“yeah, yeah— and don’t let me find out you’ve shown that shit to any of your friends, okay? this is just for you.”

“of course not, rafey… do you want anything in return?”

“you send me any freaky shit when i’m with my dad and i’ll wring your neck when i get home. this is just — it’s just to get you through the week… because apparently you can’t live without dick.” he sighs tiredly, a tinge of amusement in his tone telling you he’s being lighthearted in his own fucked up way.

“thats your fault.” you giggle and he hums, the sound of sheets ruffling on his end.

“alright, gotta be up early so i’m gonna head to bed. be good, yeah? i’ll text you when the jet lands, you’ll probably just be waking up at that time.”

“okay rafey, night!”

you actually make it all the way to thursday without using the video. you were tempted — don’t get it twisted, but there was part of you that wanted to hold out, make yourself really need it before you reward yourself.

you find yourself home alone, missing rafe and horny — so you end up on your bed, finger hovering over the play button.

“alright, this is for you baby. don’t ever say i don’t do shit for you.” you hear him first as he adjusts his grip on his phone, using one hand to film his crotch and the other to pull down his boxers — hard, pretty cock springing out. his hand disappears off camera for a second, and returns with a glob of spit in his palm, smearing it all over as he starts to jerk off.

aside from sighs and moans, he’s quiet for the most part until closer to the end — his tip red and throbbing and he gets more desperate. “this kinda shit gets you off, huh? probably gonna hump that little hand like i caught you doin’ that one time. ‘was real cute, baby.” his voice is breathy and you can tell he’s practically talking himself through it, pushing himself closer to his orgasm.

he’s right, your hand is down your panties— rubbing your clit and spreading your thighs as you let out whimpers of your own. “fffuck. you — mm— you wish you were cummin’ on this right here, don’t you? yeah, leavin’ a mess. as usual.” he grits his teeth, stopping for a moment to grip the girth of it in his fist, letting a bead of precum slide down his knuckle.

“shit, you wanna see me cum don’t you baby. dirty fuckin’ girl — wanna see me blow this fuckin’ load for you, huh. oh shit.” he groans, bordering on a whimper before more moans and curses follow, dripping all down his hand before the video cuts off, your boyfriend catching his breath. you continue to rewind it, rewatching until you hit your own peak, whining and moaning his name despite his absence.

he’d had a busy day, so it was no surprise he hadn’t called — and you knew you’d get in trouble, but you send him a picture of your messy, drippy cunt afterwards anyway, simply captioning it ‘loved ur vid rafey <3’

he calls almost instantly, to tell you off.

☆🫖➛🎀*.☽

#anon #rafe cameron prompt

[bth3cowboi]

love conjeture, lh44 x reader

masterlist

pairing: lewis hamilton x mathematician!reader

summary: sometimes algorithms win championships, other times they help find love. (social media au)

mercedesamgf1

liked by yninmath, georgerussell63 and 879.301 others

mercedesamgf1 This year we want to give a special thank-you to Dr. Yn Ln! With the creation of her new algorithm focused on data analysis and her extensive collaboration this season our view in analytics evolved to unimaginable levels. We are forever grateful for her contributions and what they mean for the future of Formula 1. Thanks again Dr. Ln, and good luck with the thesis! 😎💻

tagged yninmath;

see all comments

yninmath thank you for the opportunity🫡💙 it was an honor to work alongside this great team

mercedesamgf1 👏💙

user1 omg work girlll!!

user2 just googled her and im going crazy like how do you have 3 phds at 27😭?

user3 graduated super early too shes kind of a genius lol

lewishamilton thank you miss yn💙

yninmath your welcome sir champion🥹

user4 ok this is cuteee

user5 you should be thanking him bffr

georgerussell63 Outstanding!🙌 Make sure to come back Dr. Yn

yninmath oh but the travelling😮‍💨

lewishamilton nah you’ll make it back

yninmath if you say so haha

yninmath

liked by lewishamilton and others

yninmath currently picking up trash couches, writing thesis and remembering the friends ive made along the way 🤓💘

on a serious note, if anyone is interested in reading about topology feel free to read my new paper abt it (link in bio #influencer)

tagged bestfriend, roscoelovescoco;

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roscoelovescoco working’s hard🐾😵‍💫

yninmath or hardly working🤔

bestfriend surprised the couch didnt bring rats or something

yninmath no rats or fleas!!! its been a great couch #trashcouch #luckygirls

bestfriend please never use # again

user1 great paper dr yn😍 is there any way I could get your paper on the hodge conjeture for academical porpouses? magazines are too expensive, help a girl out🙏

yninmath dm me girl that should be free so make sure your class gets it too

user2 dr yn youre saving the nyu maths class of 25’🫡

lewishamilton no rest on break miss yn?

yninmath you know me already haha💞

user3 suspicious…

user4 what? they cant be just friends?

user5 I thought she worked for merecedes, what is this?

user6 she was only there to develop part of her thesis tho still won them another championship

liked by lewishamilton

f1paddockgossip

liked by pierregasly and 903.443 others

f1paddockgossip BREAKING! Lewis Hamilton was caught while vacationing in France with mathematician and Mercedes’ collaborator Dr. Yn Ln. The pair are rumored to be in a months-long relationship already, starting in the middle of last season.

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user1 NOOOOO

user2 isnt she like way younger than him? weird

user3 shes literally a grown woman lol she can be with whoever she pleases

user4 no cause they actually look really cute🥹 so happy for them

user5 right! she seems super nice

user6 i just know that man is confused everytime she talks numbers lmao the curse of dating a stem girlie

lewishamilton

liked by yninmath, f1 and 3.478.139 others

lewishamilton congrats on the finished thesis miss yn😉💙 love you

comments have been limited

yninmath love u and ty for the championship😘 would have failed otherwise

lewishamilton 😂😂

lewishamilton anything for my girl

yninmath 🥹

yninmath

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and others

yninmath you best believe he sat on the #trashcouch #dearlordwhenigettoheaven

comments have been limited

bestfriend did it have fleas lewishamilton?

lewishamilton no but I was worried

yninmath booo tomatoes

bestfriend just buy a new one please

yninmath i believe in sustentability🫡🍃

lewishamilton there has to be a limit

lewishamilton ❤️❤️

yninmath love you sm

liked by lewishamilton

——

a/n: ty for reading and i hope you enjoyed🩷 maybe ill be writing more for different drivers soon, so if anyone is interesed keep that in mind!

#f1 #lewis hamilton #lh44 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 x you #lewis hamilton x reader

[supernovafics]

requesting for the ill be there for you universe! the kids are coming over so steve and r plan a lil dinner party… well they make the dinner together… and its just a little too domestic…. bonus if they end up dancing to some silly song on the radio because arent we all a sucker for dancing in the kitchen 😭😭😭😭😭 the kids walk in on them and are like 🤨🤨 those two need to get together now so baddddddddddd

𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k words

warnings: explicit language

summary: in which a new year’s dinner at the apartment sparks a bet— that you and steve are completely unaware of— among the friend group 

author's note: thank u for the request !! happy new year<33

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

Steve heard the knock on the door first; you were way too engrossed in singing along to the song that was loudly playing to notice the sound. 

He maneuvered around you in the kitchen to go answer the door as you took a quick peek in the oven to check on the lasagnas. 

It was your idea to have this “New Year’s dinner” at the apartment— since you and Steve had been sick during the holidays and couldn’t see anyone, this was to make up for that— and Steve agreed. Of course, Robin and Eddie said that they would come, and then the kids were an immediate yes as well. 

Even though your and Steve’s collective cooking skills were not the best, you both still wanted to attempt and cook something for everyone, instead of simply ordering a couple of pizzas or takeout from some place. So, you got a lasagna recipe from Miss Johnson that she promised was very basic and couldn’t really be messed up; and so far, she’d been right. Although you did initially have to remake the sauce because of a mess up that you fully blamed on Steve and he fully blamed on you. But, after that, everything else luckily went fine. 

When Steve opened the door and you looked over to see everyone bounding into the apartment, it was then that you remembered just how big the friend group was— you could only imagine what that elevator ride up to the apartment had been like. 

“Is this The Breakfast Club soundtrack?” Robin asked, laughing as she slipped off her coat.

“Yes,” Steve answered. “This is what I’ve been subjected to for the past week.”

You immediately rolled your eyes at his words, which you somehow managed to hear over the loud music. “Oh, shut up, you were just singing along to the last song with me.”

“There’s only some truth to that,” He said as he walked over to the record player to turn the music down a bit. 

Everyone settled at the dining table that Steve’s mom bought for you two for the Thanksgiving dinner that you’d been forced to have here with your parents— that was still somehow a memory that lingered harshly in the back of your mind, like most interactions with your parents did. The table was only meant to fit six people, so the desk chairs that normally sat in your bedrooms were pulled out and placed at the table, and then two foldable chairs were borrowed from your other next door neighbor; this guy in his mid-sixties who would have weekly poker nights with his friends. You would continuously joke around with Steve and tell him that he should join in on the poker nights. In response, he’d always simply roll his eyes at you because you knew that he was bad at poker and he’d also rather not spend his Tuesday nights with random old men. 

Mike walked over to you and handed you a tupperware full of what you could tell were gingerbread cookies. “Since you missed the Christmas party, my mom wanted me to give these to you.”

You immediately smiled. “Holy shit, God bless that woman. Please tell her I said thank you.” 

He nodded at that and then went over to the table, sitting down next to El. 

Steve went back over to where you were in the kitchen and started reaching for the tupperware, but you immediately shooed his hand away. When he simply pouted at you, you rolled your eyes and then opened it so that he could grab a cookie, which he did and then broke it in half so that he could give a piece of it to you. 

“Is it just me or have they been acting extra old married couple lately?” Dustin asked, looking away from the interaction that just happened. 

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Max answered almost immediately and pretty much everyone else simply nodded in agreement.

Neither you nor Steve were paying any attention to the conversation that was currently taking place barely ten feet away from you; instead you both were focused on finishing up the food. You were pulling one of the lasagnas out of the oven and Steve was grabbing the other before putting the store bought garlic bread in the oven— you both had figured that if the lasagna did end up turning out bad, there would at least be bread that neither of you had a hand in making to somewhat save the day. 

“I fully believe that this will be the year that they finally get together,” Lucas said, sounding very certain.

Robin shook her head at that. “No way. If they were gonna date, it would’ve happened already. Years ago, probably.”

She thought back to this past Halloween where you and Steve were dressed up in your Batman and Robin costume, and at some point during the night he ended up giving you a piggyback ride while you all were walking to some party, and she and Vickie were trailing a bit behind the two of you. She thought about how certain she had felt when answering Vickie’s question about if you two had ever dated. “They seem like they’d be perfect together, but I also think the world would implode if they ever tried something.” For the most part, that still felt entirely true. Even though it would’ve made complete sense if something happened, it still didn’t seem necessarily “possible” at this point— it felt like such a far-fetched idea.

“I’m gonna have to agree with Rob on this one. I don’t think they’ll ever actually get together,” Eddie said and then started laughing a bit as he said his next words. “Or it’ll happen twenty years down the road after they’ve both been married to other people and then divorced, and then they’ll finally realize that all they needed and wanted was each other.”

“Wow, that sounds like the most depressing movie ever,” Will told him. 

“I guess it wouldn’t be that sad since they would end up together in the end,” El said with a small shrug.

Eddie nodded. “Exactly.”  

“Okay, yeah, maybe that could happen, but I don’t think it would take that long anymore because things are so different now,” Dustin said. “They’re living together, they have a child together.” He gestured to Harold the Hamster’s cage that sat on the coffee table in the living room. “They’re practically already a couple. It’s inevitable now. Soon they’ll be married and there will be actual children involved, not just Harold.”

Robin rolled her eyes at his final statement. “They’re best friends. They’ve known each for like ten years.” 

“Yeah, which is just another reason why they’re definitely gonna end up together,” Lucas said. “Also, I can’t even remember the last time either of them went on a date, and Steve usually always talks about his dates.” 

“Actually, he was just going out with that girl last month,” Will chimed in. “Vanessa or something?”  

“And that ultimately led nowhere,” Max reminded him. 

Mike took a brief look over at you and Steve to make sure that you two still weren’t listening to the current conversation. “Okay, I have an idea. We should make this a bet. We each say when we think they’ll get together, and if it does end up happening we all give whoever got it right or was the closest five bucks.”

Eddie laughed before nodding. “I actually kind of like that idea.” 

“It’s a great idea,” Dustin said with a nod, and it didn’t necessarily surprise anyone when he pulled out a small notebook and pen out of his pocket because it somehow made sense that he would be the one to bring a notebook and pen to a dinner party; he was probably prepared for anything. 

He started off by saying February– because even though it was only a month away, it was in fact, the month of love— and then everyone started going around the table saying their guesses. Lucas said April, Max and El both said March, Mike said July, Will said August, Robin said a very certain “Never,” and Eddie finished by saying a playful and only slightly serious, “Twenty years.”

It was almost comical how oblivious you and Steve were to what was happening not that far away from you both. Instead, your attention was on grabbing enough silverware for everyone since the plates were already set on the table and Steve was pulling out some cups. 

“I think both of our moms would scold us for not setting everything out before they came,” You told Steve, laughing a bit.

“Very true. I guess our years of being forced to eat at fancy restaurants with them have truly taught us nothing,” He joked back and you smiled at that as you both walked over to the dining table. “We’re gonna bring over the lasagna in a second. What are you guys talking about?” 

“Nothing,” Eddie said casually as Dustin slipped his notebook back into his pocket, which was a subtle action that neither of you noticed. “Just some movie.”

Once everything was set on the table, you two went back to the kitchen to grab the lasagnas.

“The bread will be done in a couple minutes, so if the lasagna sucks we’ll eat that,” You said as you sat down in one of the two empty chairs left, which just so happened to be your desk chair. “Also, if it sucks, blame Steve, not me.”

He shook his head as he rolled his eyes at you and playfully poked your side before taking a seat in the other empty chair on the opposite side of the table. “If it sucks, blame both of us because this was a very mutual effort.”

Robin nodded. “Okay, got it. If this turns out to be the worst meal all of us have ever eaten we’ll make sure to hate both of you equally and not talk to either of you for at least a week.”

Luckily, the lasagna actually turned out pretty great.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington series #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things series #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie has strong feelings for Steve. Feelings he thought he had gotten rid of once Steve rescued him from hell. His hatred of him didn't even make sense, even before all of this. So, because he's a jock he has to be a jerk like all the rest? Eddie had made an assumption about him and Lucas just like they made about him. He hated that he had done that. It hadn't been his proudest moment. Now, those frustrating feelings are resurfacing, which is ridiculous because not only is he a good guy, but he is also a complete dork as well and he's so fucking great with the kids. He should be happy that he's friends with him, so why does his stomach feel like there's a bird trying to get out of its cage when he looks at Steve?

"Eddie, man, why are you scowling at me?" Steve asked.

He was hanging out with Steve, Robin, and Robin's girlfriend, Vickie. It was supposed to be a nice, casual get-together. Of course, Eddie had to ruin it.

"I hate you!" Eddie burst out.

There was silence in the living room as everyone stared at him. Steve looked hurt. Robin looked angry, and if Vickie wasn't holding her back, Eddie was sure she would rip out his throat with her bare hands.

"What?" Steve asked.

"It doesn't make any sense why I do, though!" Eddie burst out. "Because you're a great guy! Fantastic even! When I look at you, I get these feelings in my chest that annoy the fucking shit out of me. Everything about you is so fucking perfect like a goddamn prince out of a storybook! With your perfect hair, your perfect eyes, and your perfect teeth. My God, you're even great with the kids! When you talk about going out on dates, I hate that, too! I know you're just trying to do that to get over Nancy. Speaking of Nancy, I like her and all, but when I think about you two together, it makes my fucking skin scrawl! What the fuck is that? I mean, I like Nancy, but fuck, the idea of you two together makes me want to rip off my own eyebrows and eat them! Jesus H Christ! There's no reason for me to hate you, and yet somehow . . . Wait, why are you guys laughing?"

Vickie was giggling into Robin's shoulder while Robin laughed into a pillow. Steve was laughing with his hands over his eyes.

"He's so cute!" Vickie laughed.

"Why are you guys laughing at me?" Eddie asked. "Stop it!"

"You poor Dingus!" Robin laughed.

"What?!" Eddie asked.

"You like me, Eddie," Steve said.

"Yeah, I like you, but I also seem to hate you," he sighed.

"No, I mean, you like me," Steve said, standing up.

"You said that already," Eddie replied.

"Alright, can I do something so I can get my point across?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, do whatever you want to me, man," Eddie said and Steve grinned widely.

"Within reason, Steven!" Robin exclaimed.

Steve cupped his face and kissed him. Eddie gasped, a jolt of what felt like electricity shot through him. He liked it. The kiss was short and to the point. Steve pulled away.

"Oh, I like you! Oh, thank God! I thought I hated you! Wait, am I gay? No, I still like like girls. . .hold on, give me a minute," Eddie said, raising his finger to do invisible math in the air.

"You like this man, Steve?" Robin asked as they watched Eddie erase something.

"Oh, yeah," Steve replied.

"I've never actually seen someone figure out their sexuality before," Vickie said.

"Oh, I had a chance to do that with Steve. It was a wonderful experience. Definitely a lot less stupid than this," Robin said.

"I like both!" Eddie exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "And I like you!"

"I like both too, Eddie, and I like you too," Steve laughed. "I'm bisexual."

"Bi - sex - u - al," Eddie said like, drawing out the words, and he shook his head from side to side as if rolling the word around in his head. "Yes! Me too! Bisexual! Does this mean this is a double date now?"

Steve grinned, sat down on the love seat, and pulled him into his lap.

"Definitely," Steve said.

"Let me tell you, I feel this huge relief now that I know I like you," Eddie said. "I can't believe I thought I hated you!"

"Dingus!" Robin giggled.

"How long are you guys going to laugh at me about this?" Eddie pouted as Steve shook with laughter beneath him.

"Forever!"

Eddie buried his head into Steve’s neck as he laughed with them, sighing in contentment when Steve kissed his forehead.

#stranger things #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #bisexual steve harrington #bisexual eddie munson #bi4bi #robin buckley #robin & steve #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates #platonic with a capital p #stranger things vickie #bisexual vickie #lesbian robin buckley #robin x vickie #rovickie #rockie #stranger things fanfiction

[shunsuiken]

THE ONE I RETURN TO.

pairing. kamisato ayato x fem!reader

genre. fluff + marriage au + reader is kinda shy btw (PLEASE CAN U BLAME ME ITS AYATO) + also you wear fragranced hand cream here

synopsis. day to day life married to kamisato ayato is never boring. there is always something to complete and achieve by the end of the day. however, due to your husband’s busy schedule, he’s never seen you in your element at work to ensure the household is in order. and tonight, he finally gets that chance.

wc. 2k

an. heavily inspired by ayato’s character story where the maids and servants often leave notes for him on his study so that he stays up to date with anything going on in the household I LOVE MY HUSBAND SO MUCH AWHWEHEURUFHDB its also my birthday today (well, it was, like 30mins ago but still) so this is a gift from me to you <3 okay please enjoy !!!

as ayato’s wife, you make sure to take care of the household while your husband attends to official duties. even if these duties take much of his time, you don’t fail to report and update him of any changes or requests made within the household and thanks to his lovely sister, ayaka, you learnt that the estate’s way of filling in the clan head on any news was though writing little notes to stick onto any books that were left open after the commissioner left his study.

as your husband, ayato really should be spending more time with you. everyone around him is aware of the capable and loving wife he has at home. some even whisper underneath their breaths that the lord commissioner is too busy to even have a wife. but he knows that is wrong, he doesn’t leave you unattended. in fact, he showers you in so many gifts (hand creams, hair products, skin care products—the list goes on!) when he knows he’ll be on business for longer than usual. this is how you found two new sets of kimono’s waiting for you on your shared bed. you must admit, they’re gorgeous. the delicate hands of ogura mio never disappoint… you nod your head in agreement to your own thoughts as you hold up the material closer to your face.

a knock on the door snaps you out of your mind.

“yes?”

“y/n? i was wondering if you were free? thoma made some pastries, would you like to—”

you bolt for the shoji before sliding it open with practiced grace. your gentle smile greets ayaka’s cute expectant expression. “of course, ayaka! you know i always have time for you.”

her eyes curl like crescents, boldly looping her arm with yours so she can take you to the area outside the estate’s doors. the evening breeze is cool but it doesn’t make you chilly enough to request a coat.

you and ayaka have always been the best of friends, even before you were wed to ayato. although you were a few years older than her, it did not change the shared frequency you both had when it came to certain hobbies and topics. then one day, you met ayato while he was on official business and you couldn’t deny how composed and… gorgeous that man was on that day. so after silently eyeing each other from across the room of authorities and inazuman nobility, he finally introduced himself, saying “he never had the pleasure of meeting you.”

you both soon grew closer, contacting each other through letters—referring to one another as your “penpal” when really you two were flirting (very, very subtly) on a piece of paper. you both only spoke during events hosted by other noble clan’s or official authorities, which was for the safety of both your reputations because god forbid a rumour that the yashiro commissioner was seeking a wife. imagine the uproar it would cause in inazuma city!

oh, and it certainly did.

as you stack papers upon papers in your husband’s study, you reminisce quietly with a relaxed smile on your face. you take the notes other servants have left and arrange them in categories of: household updates, requests and miscellaneous things. you often find yourself reading through the miscellaneous category of notes the most as they bring a laugh out of you. once you read that a servant politely asked the clan head to watch his step when leaving the study so he would avoid bumping into any potted plants. you remember that day and you remember how you were holding in your laughter at the disaster in the room when thoma showed you.

“my lady, sometimes the lord likes to get ahead of himself so it results in his feet working quicker than his head,” thoma commented as he cleaned the mess of soil and the depressing state of the plant.

you hummed in agreement. “that, i could tell very easily.”

a chuckle leaves your lips as you read through more of the notes from the retainers. “oh dear, these are too much for me.” you cover your mouth to contain your giggles. these people just have the most outlandish things to say! oh well, it is nice to know they aren’t afraid to be honest.

you’re lucky it’s past midnight, when everyone is asleep so they wouldn’t have to hear your muffled giggles.

everyone except for one person.

your husband, of course. who idly stands in the corridor with the shoji being the one thing that separates you two. he listens to how you whisper under your breath as you read the notes, or how you repeat what some of them say due to how amusing they are.

“my lord, your bountiful order of rice cakes will arrive within 3-5 days. until then please refrain from stepping into the kitchen to fi—pfft.” clearly, pursing your lips isn’t enough to keep you from bursting into laughter. “—to fix up your own—oh no, that is absolutely something he would do.”

ayato only realises how much he’s been yearning to hear your voice until now. it’s a shame this is the first time he’s bumped into you on these midnight reviews (he can see the smile on your face as you read the note even when he’s not looking at you, oh how he misses that sweet look on your face). licking his lips lightly, his gloved fingers stealthily slide the shoji open by an inch so the view reveals your figure that is turned back to him. his lavender gaze captures the sight of your hair loose and that you’re wearing the yukata he gifted you two weeks ago. you sit comfortably on his specially made tatami mat too.

sometimes ayato barely even has the time to be in your presence. but this moment right now, where he enjoys your presence without you even knowing, is nice. although the painful drop in his stomach inks him with a tinge of regret, he well understands how his duties must stay a priority. after all, he has a family to protect. ayaka, you, thoma and the retainers. he cannot fail any of you.

ayato purses his lips before he announces his presence with a light thud of the shoji shutting behind him. “hello darling.”

your spine snaps straight up at the sound and the voice. “ayato?” turning around, you watch your husband make his way toward you sitting on his tatami mat. he kneels down beside you before pulling another mat from the side to sit on it.

your mind struggles to process the moment until he is sat down. your movements are paused, two notes from the retainers still held in your hands. “when… did you arrive? it’s pretty early.”

a light chuckle leaves ayato’s lips, “darling, what are you implying? would you rather i leave?” he puts on an expression feigning disappointment, pretending to get up from his seat.

your hands move quickly, halting his act with your warm palm on his knee. “no no, don’t! stay here please.” the hastiness in your voice is accompanied by your wide eyes that have a longingness to them, a longingness that you still struggle to communicate verbally. which is how you end up subconsciously relying on your husband’s perceptiveness to get wind of what you’re feeling without telling him.

he huffs at you fondly, fixing his clothing to sit comfortably on the tatami mat again. then he takes your hand in his hand before you can pull it back. “as you wish, my dear.” he tugs on your hand and you give him a questioning look.

“come closer.”

“o- oh.” your other hand scrunches up the material of your yukata, which ayato totally sees and pretends he doesn’t. little shit. you want to curse because he knows how good he is at making your heart flutter. your body gives into him nonetheless, the longing and yearning for him finally melting into your limbs as you become putty in his arms, sitting in between his legs with both the tatami mats providing your bottom's comfort.

your arms shyly snake around his clothed waist, comfortably wrapping yourself around your husband you missed so much.

ayato lets you do whatever you want, knowing you will indulge in his invitation. sliding his gloves off his fingers, he puts them on the table so that he can feel your body without the obstruction. such a sullied garment that shakes hands with officials, signs documents and motions at retainers to obey his orders simply does not earn the right to hold you.

your head hides in the juncture between his neck and shoulder and he feels your soft breaths against his neck. he gently places his jaw on the crown of your head, finding solace in the embrace as his arms hold onto your smaller body.

the warmth from his palms spread on your skin, calming your nerves instantaneously.

“so is this what you do in my office at this time?”

you hum into his skin, “usually you’re not home by this time so it’s only natural you don’t bump into me when i’m in here.” your breath tickles ayato, a tug playing on his rosy lips at the physical intimacy. “you can imagine how shocked i was when you magically appeared behind me.” your soft giggle fills the room momentarily.

“it’s no wonder that all of my notes are arranged tidily when i return,” ayato chuckles softly, “it’s not to say that they weren’t tidy before but these notes held a certain scent on them that led me to believe that my wife was here prior.” he gently takes your hand that was wrapped around him, pulling it up to plant a kiss on your knuckles.

oh, you definitely felt how he inhaled slightly when his lips touched your knuckles. you glare at him, but there is no anger behind your eyes. “you rascal, you sniff your notes?”

ayato’s grin only widens at the name you call him, enjoying your response to his teasing. “darling, you’re the only one in this estate who wears this scented hand cream. i also personally chose it for you so i had no doubts about it.” he then sighs disappointedly, “though it is a shame this is the first time i’ve caught you in here, what if you stayed longer next time?”

you deadpan at him. “you want me to camp out here in your office?” because with his schedules, you might not even step foot into your bedroom until dawn.

ayato shakes his head, laughing softly at your expression. “don’t say that, you know i rush home every time once i’m finished.”

you pat his shoulder, putting on an act of sympathy before exhaling to feign exasperation. “and you will find me in our bedroom once you’re done.”

“y/n!” your husband almost whines, his brows creasing sorrowfully.

his expression doesn’t improve until you’ve kissed every inch of his pretty face, and only then does the corner of his lip curl up. with your hands cupping his face, he opens an eye to peek over at you ready to give him another smooch, consequently making you pause.

“are you satisfied, my lord?”

“hm, perhaps another one—over here.” ayato ponders for a moment before tapping his index finger on his own cheek. he closes his eyes yet again to await your kiss.

it does not arrive.

so he opens his eyes again, mouth ready to pester you with complaints for not granting him your divine kisses but just as he does, you’re up in his face to place that kiss he was waiting for on his cheek.

“there you go, happy?”

“most unbelievably.” his voice is soft, tender, almost a whisper. but clear enough for your ears to catch it. ayato stares at you with these eyes that tempt you into looking away. the loving and affectionate gaze of those lilac eyes, paired with that gentle curl of his pink, moistened lips is reserved, just for you. he takes your hands in his again, lifting one of them to place another ardent kiss on your knuckles. 

“especially since it’s you, the one i return to.”

#kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #ayato fluff #kamisato ayato fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff

[leclsrc]

sweet pea ✴︎ cl16

genre: friends to lovers, dad charles/pregnancy au, fluff!, humor, super slight angst

word count: 4.6k

“I thought the puking was food poisoning,” he says. “Jesus, you know how many takeout places I’ve avoided lately?” “Well, it’s not Panda Express. It’s your alien sperm.”

Or: you finally reap what you sow after fooling around with your best friend. The reaping in question is a kid.

notes... some nsfw allusions, nothing too bad. if pregnancy isnt ur thing this is all about it so.

auds here... i hated this for a long time so i thought id never post it hahahah but i will now bec i just redid some scenes and its okay in my eyes... also this is a bit overdue. i hope u like it everyone! :) title from this

It’s an hour before the race and you’re absent from your usual spot greeting friends and guests along the paddock. Instead, you’re leaned against the wall of the tiny motorhome bathroom, silently digging your toes into your sandals. Charles knocks twice before trying to open the door and succeeding. He beams when he sees you, goes, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

He offers a hand, but you let your eyes shut, refusing to take it. You fail to even make eye contact, holding up the plastic stick that’d been in your clammy grip for about twenty minutes. It’s an omen, a portent, a cursed thing, casting your best friend into silence.

It’s cold and sterile in the bathroom—a stark contrast to where other families might find out they’re pregnant for the first time. You imagine a lemon yellow room bathed in noon sunlight and a happy balding doctor going “It’s positive, mama!” You picture a white family SUV in the parking lot, a happy blonde couple jumping into each other’s arms with unadulterated happiness.

Instead, you get: “Do you have COVI—oh.”

“Yeah.” You say, pursing your lips. You swallow. “Oh.”

“I thought the puking was food poisoning,” he says. “Jesus, you know how many takeout places I’ve avoided lately?”

“Well, it’s not Panda Express. It’s your alien sperm,” you counter, lifting yourself from the wall and bumping past Charles on your way out and into his room. He follows, brows knitted together, muttering something French under his breath. 

“By that logic, that’d mean you’re an alien now, too. See, your kinks have finally met their match.”

You turn, effectively stopping him in his tracks. He almost collides with you, his eyes trained determinedly on the positive pregnancy test in his hand. You cross your arms and narrow your eyes, annoyed. “Seriously. Jokes? Right now?”

“I mean—”

“Whatever,” you say, waving him off. “Just go and drive. We can talk about this later.”

“I’ll dedicate the race to the little alien.” He giggles, mimicking a champagne spray, waving the invisible bottle back and forth toward your still-not-showing stomach. His accent switches to a measly English one when he goes, “Oh my Gawd! And there goes the alien Leclerc! Wins in first! From pole!”

“Get out. Or so help me God this baby is growing up without you.”

He ends up winning. (“Should I dedicate every race to the ali—” “Stop calling it that.”)

—

This is nothing but a final culmination of your very layered relationship with Charles. For years, you two had comfortably gone by the “best friends” label, with a hidden “with benefits” clause. You’d grown up together, separated only when you went to university in New York. Your re-arrival in Monaco, coupled with the both of you having grown older and more independent, marked the start of the sex.

It works like clockwork. To relieve stress, to celebrate, to cure boredom. At some point, both of you just inwardly admitted there was a certain weakness to it. A glass of wine, a stick of tobacco, and you’d give in to the temptation easily. Then, in the morning—sometimes in Monaco, other times in foreign countries where your body feels like it’s still three a.m.—you come to a mutual agreement to never do it again.

But you always do, laughing in between kisses, mumbling whispered nothings between the sheets (or in the bathtub, or against the wall, or—that one time—on the balcony.) And now there’s proof of it. Well, barely any yet, you realize, staring at yourself in the mirror of Charles’ hotel room. You turn and flop yourself onto the bed, but face-up. You inch yourself toward the headboard and lean against it in a half-seated position.

“I can’t believe I’m…” You sigh. Finally, the jokes fizzle. This is the real talk.

Charles burrows himself next to you, shirtless and in a stupid pair of boxers with red hearts all over them. You’d gotten them as a Valentine’s Day gag two years ago, but now you’re thinking of the future, of telling this kid their dad has a pair of heart-decorated boxers. Momentarily, and temptingly so, you weigh the options of telling Charles you were joking and running away before sunup.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks. He’d learned the phrase from some obscure American rom-com, if you recall correctly. He uses it constantly, and for many years, improperly.

“I’ll give you them for free,” you say, breathless with worry. “We’re having a kid.”

A hand places itself on your knee. You almost jerk away, but you relax. “What do you want to do?”

“With?” You ask, emptily. There’s so much to do. “The baby?”

“Well, I mean, yeah, but also us.”

“We’re not dating,” you say, a bit sharper than intended. 

“We could.” He pauses. “For its sake.” He pokes your abdomen.

“I don’t—” You inhale, trying to reorganize all your thoughts. “I don’t want people thinking we’re suddenly dating and engaged and happy just because I’m about to pop a Charles Jr. out. I mean, what are you going to do with your racing? With a kid on the way, how’s travel going to work? My job? My masters?” 

“I think… I think you and I are lucky enough,” he says slowly, “to be able to weigh all these options without losing too much time or resources. I will support you no matter what, and you know that. And really, who cares if people think we ‘date’ because of the baby? You and I have been ‘dating’ since we were eleven.” 

You don’t realize you’re crying until your laugh is mixed with a sob. You don’t know if you’re sad, pissed, overwhelmed, loved—or all four. “Okay? So… let’s both think about it. More you than me. And tomorrow, we can weigh this all over again. Let’s sleep on it. Remember? La nuit—”

“—porte conseil,” you finish tearily. “Okay.”

—

It’s two weeks later. Charles gets stuck in the paddock doing something or other for Sunday, so you’re left to your own devices in the parking lot. Five minutes of waiting turns to fifteen, then a half hour. That’s the catalyst for your mid-evening freakout—suddenly you’re thinking about all the times you and this weird thing inside you might be alone, left for work, by an athlete dad.

“Are you okay?” A voice asks when you’re heaving out another dry, panic-induced sigh. You turn, finding it familiar, and see Seb behind you. He may have been Charles’ teammate, but he’s a friend to you, too, and you find he’s always the most grounded in heated discussions.

“Seb,” you croak, caught off guard. “I’m fine.” Your voice breaks on the ine, and suddenly fat tears roll quietly down your face.

You tell him eventually, when he asks you again if you’re okay, making him the second person to know; still, the telling doesn’t get easier. You didn’t even tell Charles, you think. You merely shoved a Clearblue stick in his face and waited for the goofy reaction that would undoubtedly meet your ears.

“A baby,” he says softly. Happily. “Congratulations. This is a big step… but you don’t sound excited.���

“I mean,” you say in between waves of tears, “I am? I am. But—it happened so fast—we’re not even officially together—and Charles is—”

“Do I need to talk some sense into Charles?” Seb asks suddenly, concerned. 

“No. He’s—he’s being great. Really supportive.” You wipe the tears and fresh ones come. “He’s happy. You know him. I think I’m just overwhelmed. I mean I’m the one who’s toting this baby around.” 

“Take it one step at a time,” he muses. “See a doctor, work out non-race schedules with Mattia, get everything in order. If I know you, this baby will be in the best hands. And that’s not even counting Charles.” He pulls you in for a hug that lasts ages, one that says thank you and I love you better than words. You inhale, find the tears have stopped. You realize what comes after this—it’s telling everyone else. Lily, your best friend. Carlos. Charles’ family. Your family. The fans, oh God you’d forgotten about the fans. The social media announcements. 

Charles strolls into the parking lot—runs, more like, with apologies spouting out of him, just two minutes after Seb leaves. He presses a delicate, apologetic kiss to your forehead, a hand on your stomach. “Hey,” he says. Then, to your abdomen, covered by a sweatshirt, “Hey there, alien.” You wonder what this will be like in two months. In seven. In nine.

—

You tell your families over lunch on a lucky off day. There is little surprise—just tears from both your moms and Arthur teasingly asking you to recount the details of conception. You’re in a sundress serving crostini when Pascale pulls you aside to the back of the yard.

She presses a kiss to your cheek, one of conviction and faith. “I always knew,” she says. “You’re going to be a wonderful mom.”

—

The drivers all find out one way or another, news trickling through the grapevine like honey. You share it to Lily first, and of course she tells Alex. You tell Lewis, too, over spring rolls that he claims will power up the baby when it’s born. Charles tells Pierre, who tells Yuki, and Carlos, who tells Lando. You tell Mick, who hugs you and says, “Oh my god! I already knew, Seb told me. I kept wanting to say congratulations.” 

It’s a matter of two weeks before everybody knows. You know because you’ve barely taken a step into the dimly lit Ferrari motorhome when you halt and bolt back outside, harboring yourself a few metres away at a safe distance. Charles, who had been walking beside you, arm looped around your waist, turns, puzzled.

“What’s going on?” He asks.

“No. Nuh-uh. It smells in there.”

He sniffs the darkness, fumbles for the light switch. “No it doesn’t.”

“It smells like”—you grit your teeth, trying to identify the stench—“cheese. And champagne.”

“Why would it smell like che—”

He bangs the light open and illuminates a surprise party. The entire grid starts cheering, having unheard the entire conversation. There’s a huge banner that says CONGRATULATIONS PARENTS, and on a makeshift table in the centre, an assortment of cake slices, cheese, and flutes of champagne. Charles laughs with delight at the surprise, and then turns to find you squatting on the ground, trying to quell your stomach. 

“Give me five,” you say, waving him off.

He returns after ten to find you still trying to calm the waves of nausea. You hear his footsteps and heave yourself up, standing to face him. “I asked Esteban and Max to evacuate the place of cheese and champagne. It’s just coffee and cake now. I even got three fans going.”

“Desolée,” you say, miserable. He wraps two big arms around you, nestling his chin atop your head. “I feel like a high-maintenance monster.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re not the monster. The alien is.”

“I told you to stop calling it that,” you say, shutting your eyes and leaning into his touch. “Before it catches on.”

“Okay. E.T.? Spock? Open to suggestions.” Hand in yours, he walks you gently to the party, arising loud cheers again. In between sips of hot water, he says, “How about Chewy?”

—

The sense of smell proves to be useful in endeavours elsewhere.

“You never clean your car,” you say, lying horizontal on the leather seat and picking bits of dirt off. “I can smell month old Cheetos.”

Charles watches you obsessively nitpick at the detailing. “Last time you looked like this, I gave you a baby.”

“One more word,” you warn sharply. 

“But seriously, be careful. The alien might get stressed.”

You brace yourself for the stupid words that will indubitably follow.

“Don’t worry. If it falls out I’ll plop it in a race car and it’ll be the next Hamilton. Imagine how light it’ll be.”

There it is.

—

Your first trip to the doctor’s is interesting. Charles insists on wearing a wig because he’s so easily recognized in Monaco, so now you look like you’re conceiving a baby with Weird Al Yankovic.

The doctor wheels in a cart with a monitor and all the necessary equipment, and even if it suddenly feels all too real, Charles squeezes your hand and you’re calm again. “I’m back,” she says, sliding into a wheely chair beside you and gelling your stomach.

“Hi, Back,” Charles responds in a crude, twangy Texan accent. The dad humor starts early, you suppose.

You grit your teeth to try and excuse his embarrassing behavior, but suddenly the monitor clicks open and there it is. It looks like the ones in movies, print-outs from friends, but at the same time it doesn’t. It looks different. Special. Yours. You zero in on it, breathless. That’s yours. The doctor says a couple minor things—nothing worrisome—and when you turn to relay it to Charles in case he’d zoned out, you find his face splotchy.

“Are you crying?”

“That’s ours,” he says, dipping down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“It’s mine and Charles’, not mine and Bob Ross’,” you say, but you pull him closer anyway. 

You order two printouts. The week next, you discover that Charles snuck back in to order an extra eight and has mailed them out to friends and drivers. You find out because Kylian Mbappe messages you “Due in April? Make me godfather!” on Instagram.

—

Gradually, you fall into a pattern of being queasy constantly. You get nitpicky with meals, and not irrationally—Charles had fed you a spicy hotdog and you’d gone half a bite before hurling it, and your breakfast, into the nearest toilet. You find solace in your cravings—all of which happen to be the same everyday.

Chinese takeout from just about any restaurant ends up being your best friend. You somehow can’t stomach anything but that specific cuisine, much to your own surprise. You find new ways to combine them with each other. Rice paper wrappers with chow mein. Hotpot with fried rice. If you’re not eating Chinese, you reduce your appetite to crackers or hot tea to avoid becoming too nauseated.

It’s poetic almost, the way he sets out the food carefully, in the order you like them. He always presses a kiss to your forehead after. 

Around this time, you develop a crazy sex drive, waking Charles up at numerous points of the night, begging into his neck for something, anything. You last an hour before you’re asking again. This proves especially difficult before races, where Charles gives in a bit too easily and Carlos has to knock on the door, going “You have to finish somewhere else too, Charles!”

—

You insist Charles hold off on telling the fans, for a few months. It goes okay until your outfits on the paddock evolve into the variety of “Charles’ hoodies” to hide the increasingly evident bloat of pregnancy, and nosy fans start speculating all over Twitter. That’s when he sits you down and gently tells you he thinks it’s time you both announce it.

You’re sitting beside him in his hotel room, after two calls with his bosses, trying to formulate the proper announcement. You download PicsArt to make it pretty and clean and formatted—because the poor guy was about to post a Notes app screenshot—and then it’s on the Internet. 

“She’s truly MOTHER,” one fan comments. Despite yourself, you press the heart icon beside it. It’s your bit of comfort when you catch sight of the nastier comments under the post.

—

You’re ironically gifted an ancient 80s aerobic exercise DVD for mums by Lily and Alex. You’re sure it’s older than you. Charles, though, in his valiant effort to connect with you and Chewy, does the routine everyday. You wake up to the electronic synthpop and Charles doing booty squats in the living room.

The permed instructor smiles through the scratchy 80s quality and goes, “You are rocking it, momma!”

“You hear that?!” Charles pants. “I am rocking it!”

—

Your first parenting fight ends up being one over the baby’s name. Yeah. Of all things. You don’t know why you’re so worked up about it, considering you don’t even know the gender of the baby yet. You arrive in Monaco to mark the first of five off days and Charles makes some random, offhand joke about naming the baby Daryl, and you suddenly start rambling on and on about how it’s too ugly, even if you’d never thought about names before now.

“It’s not going to be Daryl. It won’t be Daryl,” Charles says, hands on your shoulders. You heave another sob. “Please stop crying. You never cry. I’m a bit freaked out.”

“It’s—just—that,” you hiccup, “I—don’t—want to name a—our—baby—Daryl.”

“Yeah, yep,” he says, soothingly. “I got you. It’s not going to be Daryl. Never. We don’t need to decide anything. You gonna calm down for me?”

“I can’t—stop—crying,” you snivel desperately, burying your face in your hands.

He presses a firm kiss to the corner of your quivering lips, and you tug him in for a real one. You calm down when you pull away, exhaling. You gaze at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Blame the alien,” you sniff. 

He kisses your stomach, which shows signs of pregnancy more and more as the days pass. “Hear that?” He whispers into the skin. “She’s blaming you, Chewy.”

—

Your next trip to the doctor’s is with your appointed private physician, Dr. Davies. Two minutes before the doctor walks in, you make a serious and compelling order for Charles to remove the Weird Al wig, which he does—but stores in your bag, “just in case.” It’s also his opporunity to play teacher’s pet and showcase how involved he is in your pregnancy, which, judging by the amount of weird cultish pregnancy books he’s burned through, is very much so.

“It’s gonna be a boy,” you declare while you’re being gelled up. You’re past the point of denial and bloat, now showing way too obviously. “Mom’s intuition.”

“Well, all the books say it’s a girl,” he says proudly.

“Yeah, they also say drinking lemon juice while trying to conceive gives you a girl. I’m sure scientific accuracy was their greatest objective.”

“Girl.”

“Boy,” you say dismissively.

“Girl.”

“Boy.”

“Girl.” It’s not Charles this time, it’s the physician, with a small smile on his face.

You squeeze Charles’ hand so hard you’re half sure it’s chipped off and fallen to the tiled floor. You’re having a girl. Normally Charles would turn and make some petty statement about he’d been right, but—you’re having a girl. A pretty baby girl. You almost can’t believe it. He totally can’t, pressing kisses to your hair and face.

You let him buy pink paint later that day.

—

You predict it, but it comes—fights and squabbles over nothing at all.

First it’s about work, then housing, then his job, then the danger of his job. It’s petty, and usually you storm off in an emotional cloud of irrationality, brought down after a talk, a play-by-play, compromise, reassurance. It’s hard when you’re carrying around a human being, you want to say. Try being in my shoes.

“Can we talk?” Charles says, in the thick of another fight. You’re on the balcony of your flat, mulling over nothing at all. Your stomach is heavy, you’re always exhausted, you never feel pretty anymore even if Charles is always unfailing at telling you you are. 

“Okay,” you murmur, turning. You’ve already developed a habit of placing your hands on your bump always.

He inhales. “I’m scared.”

This is a first. And you realize—in these six months of being pregnant, Charles has been your rock, but has never expressed much fear until now. He’s always been good. Great. Supportive. “Of what?”

“Of—becoming a dad.” He pauses, as if to weigh his words. “I don’t have… a blueprint anymore.”

It dawns on you what he’s talking about. You accept the hug when it comes, holding the nape of his neck. He isn’t crying, but is close to it. His voice is shaky when he continues, whispers against your ear. “What if I don’t know what to do?” 

“Baby,” you say, weakly. You push him gently so he’s looking into your eyes. “If the way you’ve taken care of me the past how many months is any indication of how you’ll treat this alien, I know she’s in good hands. You’ve got so much of your dad in you. You’re caring, sweet, you even got a headstart on the dad jokes.” He laughs. “I want this. And the only reason I ever did was because I knew you’d be with me, being an amazing dad, and an even better…”

“Boyfriend,” he says. His eyes hold hesitance—but you quell it with a nod.

“Boyfriend,” you echo. “For now.”

—

The nursery looks like a nursery in February. It was a storage room in Charles’ flat that had really, at some point, become yours, too. Full of boxes and old suits and memories, it’d taken weeks to properly store everything and make way for the furniture. Charles, of course, insists on painting it himself, with the shade of pink he purchased especially for the room.

He hits his head twice and touches the wet paint. There’s a handprint embossed above the bassinet. (Yours is next to it, at his insistence.)

—

You’re a yoga ball by mid-March, having trouble sleeping and dealing with everything being swollen. Charles helps you through it all, turning the heating up and down every time you get even a bit scratchy with the temperature in the flat or motorhome. Your cravings also morph again at this point, into rigatoni that Charles cooked sometime over winter; he requests Ferrari add an induction stove to every race weekend motorhome that you can make it to so he can cook it at your beck and call.

The season begins. Every race is dedicated to Chewy, and every race is won.

—

It’s early morning in late March when Dr. Davies sends you an email with a one-liner that sounds firm enough to set you and Charles in place after two races that involve you being flown around.

Absolutely NO more air and long car travel for Mommy. 

“Can we manage?” You mope, rereading the email, genuinely distressed as you watch your boyfriend pack for Australia. It’s a long haul flight, with only one stopover in Zurich, and you’re filled with anxiety. There isn’t a compromise—until you’re popping the baby out, Charles needs to try and score the title.

“You know I can always drop out of races,” he says softly. “That’s what reserve drivers are for.”

“It’s not the same,” you argue. “I’m just worried.”

“You’re not due ’til the 12th,” he assures you. “I’ll be back then, even if it means dropping a race.”

He leans down and kisses you softly, rubbing your shoulders and ankles. “I’ll be back before you know it. Get some sleep first, okay?” He repeats the sentiment to your stomach, adding a kiss and a bye bye Chewy. You drift off to a sorrowful sleep when he departs, a slow ache in your lower back blooming that feels just like many of the other slow aches lately. 

You’re up after a half hour with discomfort. You suppose something is just up with your sleep position, and readjust yourself. The discomfort sharpens, then melts. You sigh with relief, a long whistley exhale, and sleep again.

Bliss lasts about three hours, then you’re up again, groaning. You’re not due for a prenatal yoga class until four in the afternoon, and your body isn’t used to being awake. Hell, it’s not used to being this pained. You shift once, twice, trying to sleep with fruitless and exhausting attempts. It takes a while, but in between shifting positions and trying to make yourself yawn, it registers.

“Chewy.” You groan, cupping your gigantic bump. “Seriously?”

—

The first person you call is Charles, naturally. He should be in Zurich, but maybe signal is spotty or something, because none of your texts or calls ping. So you move down the list to the person you know will be in Monaco and not off racing, like everybody you know is—and it just so happens to be Dr. Davies.

You always thought Charles would be nowhere but beside you when you went into labor. But you’re here clutching the straps of your overnight bag being driven to the hospital, exhale, inhale, try Charles, try Carlos. Exhale, inhale. Try Charles. Try Carlos. Your contractions don’t quell; they only grow in intensity and you wince the whole ride through.

“Looks like it’s going to be a fast labor,” Dr. Davies says when he’s done checking you in and making sure everything is in order. You nod, breathless and flushed. You’ve called your mum here and she’s on the way with Charles’ but—Charles is the issue.

“I will weld myself shut if it means I’m giving birth without the dad,” you beg. “Without Charles.”

Charles, who picks up after forty-five minutes of radio silence. He’s in the jet. Give him an hour. “I will pilot this plane myself if I have to. Don’t do anything—don’t make any decisions without me.”

“Too fucking late.” You say, wheezy with labor. “I’m putting N/A on the certificate.”

“You carry Chewy around for nine months and I don’t get to meet her first?” He asks, in a last-ditch effort to cheer you up. You tear up, splotchy and red all over.

“We can’t call her Chewy. We never discussed names. And oh God it can’t be Daryl,” you say, whimpers turning into half-sobs of overwhelm and yearning. You’re scared. You need Charles, who’s been with you for every week, every milestone, every kick, every rigatoni craving. But he’s not here. You have Dr. Davies, and in five minutes you’ll have your mum and Pascale, but they are not Charles. You breathe heavy into the phone.

“I love you,” you say finally. “Please, I love you.”

“I love you more,” he says gently. “I love you. I’ll be there, okay? Just—just wait for me.”

—

Lil 3s ago

does it hurt?

i know it does but i’m trying to make u feel better

love from houston. i will call you ASAP.

You 1s ago

yeah it hurts so bad

apparently they don’t do epidurals

fuck europe

—

In between quiet periods and intense ones, you finally reach your peak. A nurse takes one glance and nods and your bed is disengaged and wheeling around again. Pascale squeezes your left hand, your mum the other. “Wait!” You pant, voice spent, totally tired, flustered.

The nurses exchange a look. “Ma’am—”

“No, you don’t understand. The dad, my—the dad—he’s out—and I don’t.” You pause, the onset of a cry coming on. Pascale takes the lead, firm, asking for a few more moments of patience.

“I can’t do this,” you say hopelessly, throwing your flushed head back. “No. Not without Charles.”

“I’m here,” Charles says, bounding through the door. He’s in official Ferrari gear and his hair is disheveled and he's clearly been crying. Had Chewy not been wedging her way out, you would’ve kissed him right then. You feel nothing but love.

“You’re a sneaky fucker,” you say instead, and the rest is a blur.

—

It’s an hour before the race and Charles is absent from his usual spot greeting friends and guests along the paddock. Instead, he’s leaned against the wall of the motorhome, silently digging his toes into his shoes. You knock twice before trying to open the door and succeeding. You beam when you see him. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

His two girls.

Julia stretches out a chubby hand, but he smiles teasingly, refusing to take it. He holds eye contact, holding up the ring that’d been in his clammy grip for about twenty minutes. It’s a symbol, a sign, a blessed thing, casting his girlfriend into silence.

It’s a bit dark—a stark contrast to where other guys might propose for the first time. He imagines a Caribbean beach bathed in sunset. He pictures a Jeep in the sand, a happy blonde couple jumping into each other’s arms with unadulterated happiness. He figures if you don’t like this, he’ll pay for that.

Instead, he gets: “You’re a doofus—oh.”

“Yeah.” He says, pursing his lips. He swallows, gives you the biggest smile of his life. “Oh.”

It’s perfect.

#f1 #leclsrc1000 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader

[aves-ery]

Hands-On (You); W. Maximoff

pairing; professor/tutor!wanda x fem!student!reader

summary; your biology professor decides you need extra lessons on anatomy, you decide to give your lover (and also your professors colleague) a hands-on lesson to prove how much you know

warnings; smut 18+ only, unspecified age gap, teacher and student relationship, mommy kink (r also calls wanda momma a few times), pet names, cum-filled strap-on (w receiving), oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), praise, degrading (if u squint), finger sucking, choking, boob fucking?, squirting, spitting, r being a tad aggressive at the end, basically just r being an absolute animal for wanda

you love your girlfriend, so much. so much it hurts. hurts when she barely looks at you while your standing in the doorway of her office while she chats away with mrs romanoff about you like you aren't there.

"no i totally understand. she should be taking your class more seriously. i'd be happy to help," wanda looked at you briefly, her previously red hair now dyed blonde, and a sly smile.

"thank you again wanda. like i said, i'd do it myself but i dont have time with everything going on." mrs romanoff stood up and wanda smiled.

"its never a problem. I'm always willing to help a friend," wanda looked at you finally, and smiled softly at you. something anyone else would brush off. not you, you know what that meant.

the second natasha had walked out, wanda shut the door and locked it tightly, turning towards you with her back on the door. "poor baby, struggling in a class," wanda walked towards you and cupped your sleepy face, "coulda just asked mommy for help, doll face." she smiled softly at you.

" 'M sorry, mommy. can i give you a kiss?" you asked politely, leaning your head into her hand.

"oh, baby you never have to ask," wanda kissed you deeply, and your mind went numb and kissed her back. wanda made you numb with touch, you were consumed by her. all you wanted to do was make your mommy feel good

her hands found their way to the curve of your back, and she pulled you in deeper. her brows scrunched and she pulled away, "so you have a problem with anatomy, huh?"

you felt dumbed down, especially for someone in medical school, but you didn't mind much. when she allowed you to turn your brain off and just focused on her was when you felt the most safe. wanda never made you feel stupid. you nodded at her, burying your face into her pale skin.

"alright, lets get you home, sleepy girl. you can take a nap and we'll start our lesson after," wanda kissed your forehead and scooped you up. she made sure to check the window facing the parking lot, glad it was basically empty. she knew there was always the risk that a student would catch you, but you had always made sure to hide yourself well.

wanda carried you out to the car, your legs wrapped around her waist and wanda holding you tightly. she set you in the passenger seat, kissing your lips and buckling you in. you almost fell asleep right there.

the drive home was a long 30 minutes, wanda's house being a decent distance from the city. it was a large house in the country, far away from anyone else. no one to be scared of here.

wanda had picked up your sleeping body, carrying you into the house. you stirred, your arms tightening around the back of her neck. "mh, welcome back sweets." wanda kissed your temple and set you on the kitchen counter. she had taken off her blazer, left only in a white tee and black slacks. "hungry?" she held up a box of noodles.

"mhh, no, id rather be eaten," you said, slowly unzipping your jacket, revealing the tanktop crop top you were wearing. it fit your breasts perfectly, they were covered in love bites, and your stomach was toned perfectly.

wanda stopped in her tracks, the noodles pouring out on the floor. you giggled softly and batted your eyes at her, stepping down from the countertop. you slid your jeans off your hips, now revealing the pretty pink lace panties you were wearing. you stepped closer to her, cupping her face with your pointer finger, "what have you told me about messes, mommy?'' you asked teasingly. wanda gasped, and fell to her knees to pick up the mess she made, throwing them back in the box.

she stayed there on her knees, looking up at you through her eyelashes. "well, why are you just sitting there? give me my lesson," you grabbed the back of her head and pushed her into your cunt. "get to work, mommy."

wanda gasped, inhaling deeply and groaning. she slid your panties over with her finger and bit her lip. "your soaked already. i haven't done anything." wanda looked up at you.

"just thinking of you gets me worked up. please touch me. been like this all day," you said, tangling your hands into her blonde locks. wanda smiled before licking up your cunt. "oh, just like that baby,'' you closed your eyes and gasped.

she was eating you perfectly, licking your clit at just the right angle. you were riding her face, gasping for air constantly. like you were being drowned in pleasure. her tongue was thrusting into you and her nails gripping the back of your thighs.

"shit, mommy. youre so good. gonna fucking cum, shit," you threw your head back, overwhelmed with pleasure. wanda looked up at you, sucking harder at the sight of you so blissed out. one of her hands trailed to your cunt, slipping two fingers inside. your knees buckled and you gripped the counter tightly.

the older woman picked you up by the back of your thighs and laid you on the counter. "gonna fuck you so well, baby." she said. her fingers curled nicely inside of you, hitting that spot each time. your legs started to shake.

"oh god, 'm cumming, mommy. just like that please don't stop. you're so good at that." you moaned into the room. your legs tightened around wandas head, and for a moment wanda thought this would be the best way to go out.

when you calmed down, wanda pulled away and slipped her fingers into your mouth. you smiled at her and sucked on them softly.

her fingers slipped out of your mouth with a 'pop' and you smirked at her. even though your legs were still trembling, you stood up and practically drug her to her bedroom.

you sat her on her large king-sized bed, and pulled her shirt off of her. her breasts were cupped by a red lacy bra. you groaned and took it off immediately.

your mouth left wet kisses all over her chest, quickly forming love bites everywhere you could. wandas hands were in your hair and she was a mess.

after her chest was covered, you pulled away and walked to the nightstand beside her bed, opened the bottom drawer, and shuffled through it. wanda rarely let you top, so you barely wore the strap. however, you definitely knew how to use it. you were gonna prove it to wanda.

you adjusted the straps to fit your hips perfectly before looking at your lover, "wanna make you feel so nice," you kissed her hip and looked at her lovestruck.

"oh baby. make mommy feel nice, mkay? use me how you please," she cupped your face and smiled down at you.

you shimmied up to her, giving her a loving kiss on her lips before lining up the strap with her entrance. you pushed your hips forward, gasping when the hilt of the strap brushed against your clit. wanda also let out a gasp, her eyes looking lovingly into yours.

you slid out of her, before slamming back in. wanda moaned, scratch your back. "fuck just like that, babygirl," wanda hissed. it only spurred you on, letting out a low growl and picking up the pace.

wanda's legs started to shake, and you grabbed her ankles, setting them on your shoulders. the blonde's eyes rolled back into her head and she let out a moan that sounded straight out of a porno.

"just wanna make you feel good, wanna make my momma feel nice," you said, your hand finding her neck. you applied just enough pressure to send wanda spiraling.

"oh fuck, baby, 'm gonna cum," wanda hissed, her legs trembling against your shoulders. you bit her ankle softly, and nodded.

she let go against you, and you were pushed out of her cunt as she squirted onto you. you let out a soft gasp, setting her thighs down and rubbing them softly.

wanda was still gasping for air, her eyes shut tight. you never had this happen before, at least you've never made wanda squirt. you felt a little proud, but quickly got up to grab a wet washcloth.

when you came back, wanda had sat up, her head tilted back and her legs still lightly trembling. you smiled up at her and washed her thighs. "you were so pretty, momma," you said, kissing her shoulder.

"you did great baby, 'm sorry you didn't finish again." she said softly, stroking your hair. you softly smiled and shook your head.

"its okay, you were amazing." you looked down at her thighs, catching a glimpse of her boobs. a rush of heat spilled down into your cunt, and you quickly looked away.

"i have an idea, c'mere," wanda pulled you up towards her, "now sit up on your knees," she said again. you obeyed and smiled down at her.

you watched as she cupped her own tits, brushing them down your strap. you let out a gasp, "oh god,"

"use me princess, cum all over me," she hissed. not even moments later, you were bucking your hips in between her boobs. desperate whines leaving your mouth

"wish I could actually feel you- bet your boobs feel so nice. already doing so much for me. you're so pretty, so so pretty, mommy. gonna cum," your hands tensed up and you couldn't move them. when you finally got the action back, you growled lowly and pinned her hands above her head. "stick your tongue out," you hissed.

"what?" wanda tilted her head, confused. you huffed in frustration and forced her mouth open, squeezing her jaw.

"so fuckin' dumb, just be quiet, lemme use you," you spit in her mouth after and wanda gasped. "cumming, get ready for my load, sweets," and after that moment you squeezed the hilt of the fake cock, fake cum spurting out as your orgasm washed over you.

you pulled away, flopping down on the bed and regaining your breath. "oh my god," wanda laughed.

you tilted your head and looked at her, "what?

"nothing. i just- i definitely need to let you top more often."

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #marvel #wanda x you #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x female reader

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

can you prettyyyy please write a little piece abt best friends older brother choso n sucking him off n fucking him till ur both overstimulated :(( 💔💔

Oh boy can I, sucking him off and overstimulation are one of my two favorite things ♡

Sucking and fucking your best friends older brother until you're both overstimulated. NSFW. gn!reader.

A/N: I kinda went ham and its...long.

You and your best friend had been friends since you started college. Sharing a dorm but soon transitioned into sharing an apartment. There were lots of things you loved about your best friend. Cleanliness, kindness, humor; but most importantly? The brother. Choso. He was a sweetheart, cute. Would always blush and stutter when you were around.

You didn't see him too often, only when he paid your best friend a visit. And today just happened to be one of those days. You admit. You'd liked him for a while and have had you fair share of..wet dreams about him. And you were pretty certain he thought about you too. His eyes would always linger a little bit longer than they should. And yet you two continued to dance around it, but not anymore. You were changing all of that today.

"Hey, we're out flour. And I need it to make the cake for later." You said, nonchalant. Hoping your best friend would offer to run to the store and grab some. "I...can get it." Choso said quietly.

"Actually, I needed your opinion on something, so I'd like you to stay here." He seemed confused but agreed, your best friend leaving the two of you alone.

"What did you ne-ah!" He yelped, just now noticing how close you'd gotten. Your hands messed with the ends of his shirt. "What I need, is your big dick inside me. Do you have any objections?" You opted to go the more direct route. Leaving no room for confusion. Choso immediately sucked in a breath, feeling his dick harden in his pants. Was this real? He would've pinched himself but the feel of your nails dragging along his stomach was all he needed. He nodded. "No..objections."

"Good." You gave him a smile before undoing his pants. Sliding them down his thighs, along with yourself, until you were eye level with his thick cock. You licked your lips, eyeing the beads of precum that already formed at the tip. "U-Um," he started but immediately hissed when he felt you kitten-lick his tip. Collecting what sticky liquid leaked out and pulled it back into your mouth. "Fuck-" he breathed, tentatively resting his hand in your hair. You hummed in approval before slowly slipping the tip into your mouth. Suckling as the sticky liquid glued itself to your tongue.

"Oh-oh fuck, keep doing that." He spoke softly, smoothing out your hair. And so you did, suckling on his tip until eventually he started to push more of himself in your mouth. Your tongue wrapped around his length, paying special attention to the veins that lined the underside of his cock. "God-your mouth is so warm, so wet." Choso grunted, his fingers now threading into your hair as he guided you. Moving you up and down his length, groaning low in his throat the further down you went. Until, eventually, you bottomed out. Your nose pressed flush against his pelvis, buried in the tufts of black hair.

"Mmm-fuck, give me a minute-i just-fuck." He held you there, breathing harshly through his nose as he tried his best not to cum. His body shook, his hips itching to thrust himself forward.

Your throat bobbed, contracting around his length and making him hiss. With one more breath, he finally let go. Giving you free rein to suck his cock like you wanted. And you did.

Obscene sucking noises filled the room, your chokes and gags mixing along with it. "Fuck-fuck-your mouth, God. It's better than I imagined." His hands framed your face, keeping your hair out of the way so he could watch his dick disappear past your lips. It was erotic. It was too much and he found himself stilling his hips, shooting ropes of his sticky seed down your throat. Eyes closed and head tilted back as he road out the orgasm. But you didn't stop, your mouth still sucking him in.

"W-Wait...that's, I just came-i can't, oh fuck-" hot searing pleasure shot through his veins, eyes crossing as he thrusted his limp-now hardening, dick into your mouth. But your goal wasn't to suck him off again. So when he was hard once more, you pulled off with a pop. Ignoring the confusion on his face as you dragged him to the couch, pushing him to sit. Climbing immediately on his lap before you seated yourself on him.

"What are y-oh my God, oh-s'tight...fuuck." he groaned, pulling your body flush against his as he tried to breathe. The stimulation already too much for his poor cock. But you didn't give him that time. Immediately angling yourself to bounce up and down on his cock. His arms tightened around you as he whined. Mumbling 's'too much' and 'please keep going' over and over. His thick cock reaching deep inside you, pressing all the right spots to have you shake, stilling as you came all over him and yourself. "Squeezing me s'tight, gonna make me-" He choked, his dick spilling yet another load inside you. And it still wasn't enough.

You gathered up strength and started to bounce on his poor, limp dick. Fresh tears formed in his eyes as he told you it was too sensitive. That he couldn't cum again.

"Can't...can't cum anymore, please you-oh god, fuck me. Squeezing me like that-" He held tight to your body, thrusting up into you as his mind soon entered a fuzzy aroused state. Where his body tingled from the overstimulation but it felt good. "Gonna cum...yes yes, m'gonna cum. With me, please. Cum with m-" He broke off into a sob, shooting barely any cum inside you, his balls already being drained. His broken whining and sobbing had you cuming moments later, your body falling limp against him.

"One more," you mumbled, hips shifting slowly.

You didn't care that your best friend could be home any minute. Could possibly catch you riding Choso like a damned monster. All you could think about was taking all his cum. Milkin him for all he's worth.

#jjk smut #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen choso #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #choso x reader #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso #choso smut #lovelies requests

[catboygretzky]

Exyblr Dashboard Simulator based on what I personally see on sportsblr:

2/?

📜 realexyblog

haiku because exy is back:

GOD, why are my teams

SO fucking bad at exy?

FUCK this FUCKING sport.

#and i watch sports for why? entertainment? no way

243 notes

♛ queen-of-exy

I WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG! KEVIN DAY IS A QUEEN SHES LITERALLY A QUEEN ITS ON HER FACE

💃fox-me-up follow

queen on the court, pillow princess on the mattress amiright

♛ queen-of-exy

ive never felt more understood, I am kissing you w tongue

#marry me tumblr user fox me up

411 notes

🌞 blonde-jeremy-knox

i'm just gonna say it. i know we're all thinking it. jeremy knox eats ass like it's his JOB.

👁 jean-mor-uhoh

babe literally no one was thinking that but i'm proud of you for speaking your truth

#we're friends but what cost. when all u talk about is jeremy knox eating ass.

31 notes

🧚 goalie-stan

#dan wilds #psu

205 notes

🌄 softkevinday follow

He lived. He served cunt. He died. He was Resurrected. Served more cunt.

#kevin day

605 notes

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

absolutely busted a fucking nut watching kevin day switch hands like that oh my god my nut was so forceful it created a new dimension.

🏳️‍🌈 gay4stickball follow

hey can i join you in that dimension

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

Sure, just bring some snacks or something

🏳️‍🌈 gay4stickball follow

hell yeah!!!!!!

#thanks youre the best do you like doritos?

197 notes

😎 foxyknoxy

the best exy team in the nation is a LIBERAL ARTS COLLEGE how many of those students even go to the games when your school is full of artists and theater kids. your student section must be wACK

😎 foxyknoxy

*sorry, 2nd best exy team in the nation

#fuck you theater kids!!!!!!!! can't even appreciate a good sport !!!!! anyway go trojans

99 notes

🙈 ittybittyminny follow

Andrew Minyard should get a little bite and chew. As a reward. Maybe a small gnaw. nomnomnom Maaaaaybe as a treat he can rip a throat out, but only if he's really really good

#only if he's REALLY GOOD and maybe tests negative for rabies but whatever you can't win em all

126 notes

🏳️‍🌈 gay4stickball follow

favourite exy rarepair????

☀️ usctrojanny

ACTUALLY !!!!! was thinking about this earlier and while ive never seen anyone talk about it.......aaron minyard and neil josten would be 👀 kinda cute???

🏳️‍🌈 gay4stickball follow

omg wait why have I never thought about guys before!!!!!!!! noooo why did you say this, i can totally see it!!!!!! Neil would probably have to lean down to kiss aaron 🥺 do u think he has ever had to lean down to kiss someone 😭

☀️ usctrojanny

And obviously, u know me, im always here for a striker/backliner matchup

🏳️‍🌈 gay4stickball follow

this is all i'm going to think about for the rest of my life now, thanks, fuck you

139 notes

👅 nastyneiljosten

I want to put neil josten in a jar and shake the jar so violently he turns into sludge and then pour a drop of that sludge on to a petri dish so I can see what kind of bacteria he produces.

🦩 exyonmymind follow

what happens to the rest of the sludge?

👅 nastyneiljosten

*sluuuuuuurp* *swallowing sounds* *sluuuurp* *gargle gargle* *more swallowing sounds* yummy yummy in my tummy

487 notes

🐋 sexyexy

headcannon that neil josten is so feral bc andrew bit him and gave him rabies so now he's a literal rabid dog

👢exyinaphonebooth follow

You can't make headcannons about real people don't be freaks

🐋 sexyexy

exy players aren't real they're my little dolls that I can put into any situations I want and you can't stop me

#thanks anyway did u know andrew minyard gave neil josten rabies

143 notes

🧸 mreow-bearcats-mreow

ARE THOSE REFS FUCKING BLIND ????????!

#exy lb

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 talk-exy-to-me

Kiss cams are only acceptable during sporting events if they zoom in on two players

🗣️ jeremyknoxes follow

ok but what if they're wearing a face mask

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 talk-exy-to-me

smash your cages together obviously, don't be a pussy #love wins

🗣️ jeremyknoxes follow

fair enough

890 notes

🌸 softexy

Andrew and Aaron Minyard

#exy #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #palmetto foxes #psu #web weave #poetry

2,040 notes

#all for the game #neil josten #kevin day #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #aftg #andreil #dan wilds #jeremy knox #once again the web weave is the most accurate part of this post #👍 #exyblr

[doobea]

SWEET / I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE - NAGI SEISHIRO

synopsis: Your boyfriend doesn't realize how important little things are to you until it's a bit too late.

contents: established relationship, slight hurt and comfort??, slight jealousy, sfw, nagi struggling trying to process emotional needs of others - what else is new, also nagi centric, college au, mentions of fraternity formals, gn!reader, idk i hc'd nagi to be a compsci major but up to debate ig word count: 1.6K a/n: title is based off of tyler the creators song hehe its my fav from his album and omg thank u nagi for breaking me out of this writer's block, inspired by @celestair for the idea!!

Nagi hadn't really expected you to get so excited about attending his chapter formal. Hell, he didn't even know that they were going to have one in the first place if it weren't for Reo bringing it up in a passing conversation last week in your dorm room.

"We should go!" You said, and he remembers you hopping out of your seat, abandoning your assignment, and dashing immediately towards your closet for an outfit.

"Should we?" Nagi questioned, a frown creeping its way to his lips.

Reo slumped his arm over Nagi's shoulder, tugging the male slightly into his chest. "C'mon, why are you even paying the dues if you don't attend our events?" Reo sounded annoyed.

Nagi shrugged and went back to his phone, resuming the level of whatever popular gacha game that was released for that month. "Because you said it would look good on my resume or something." He answered flatly.

Of course, Nagi knew that he couldn't say no to this. As much as he would love to, once you and Reo were both set on something it's almost impossible to try and coax you two out of it. Nagi is pretty sure that this formal is going to be the bane of his college existence and that his computer science classes are, arguably, now the easiest part.

"It's too loud in here." Nagi wanted to go home the moment he stepped out of his best friend's rented limo. He feels too stiff with the suit he's currently wearing, the cologne is starting to overwhelm his senses, and he really didn't like the fact there's already a fuckton of people inside the venue.

Everything feels too congested.

The three of you take a seat at a table shared by Nagi's other 'brothers' and their dates. He really doesn't remember anyone's faces aside from maybe one or two from his classes, so he's confused when a handful of them start greeting him with fist bumps. All of which he awkwardly returns. Something about long-living brotherhood? Nagi didn't quite catch what they said.

"Do you guys want anything to drink?" Reo shouts over the music as he starts to get up.

"A cranberry vodka would be nice." You gently tug on Nagi's sleeve, attempting to break his unyielding attention from his phone. Reo had set a rule before they left, and it's a mobile game and social media app ban at the table. So, naturally, Nagi is stuck analyzing the weather app. "Do you want anything, Sei?"

Looks like tomorrow there's going to be a slight chance of rain which is pretty awesome, he thinks.

"Hm? Oh, whatever you're having, I guess."

Nagi misses the way your smile fades. "Um, make that two cranberry vodkas?"

"Ah," Reo stumbles around with his words for a bit before nodding away. "Sure, be back in a minute."

"Sei," Your voice is closer this time, lips almost pressed up to his ears to minimize the booming music in the background. "Wanna go on the dance floor later?"

Nagi pauses his thumb, hovering over a random European map, and he's already internally shrinking from the idea. "Do I have to?"

You laugh, it sounds a little forced. "Only if you're up for it."

He shrugs and eyes the surrounding area. The dance floor looks semi-packed at the moment and everyone looks equally semi-buzzed. Sitting at the table sounds better in his head. "I think I'll stay here but you can go on ahead."

"Oh," You exhale through your nose and laugh again. "Okay, if that's what you want!"

"Mhm," He hums back and settles his head down at the table, feeling almost exhausted despite not having to do much today.

Nagi doesn't notice that he's alone at the table until the DJ starts signaling everyone in the venue to pay attention to a couple on the dance floor. He only looks up when he hears Reo's name getting called out and starts to straighten his back when he sees you dancing hand in hand with him. The sight leaves Nagi gnawing the insides of his cheeks.

"Hey," Nagi turns to see two of his fraternity brothers looking at him with a bit of concern and he's not sure why that's making him feel uneasy.

"You good there?" Isagi asks, careful to sound casual, but Nagi picks up on it.

"What?" Nagi frowns, connecting the dots together. "It's fine. I don't really care about them doing stuff together anyway." It's a vague statement. Maybe purposefully vague.

"Eh? You sure about that, Nagi?" Bachira presses.

Nagi frowns again, tips his head down, and is in deep thought. "I'm actually not sure." He finally admits. Nagi is currently fighting off a weird feeling in his stomach. Maybe it's just the drink he had earlier.

He's always been fine with Reo keeping you company whenever he isn't in the mood. Whether it be eating with you in the dining halls, attending movies together, going to the mall, and so forth. Dancing isn't off the list either. He's seen the two of you dance before but isn't sure why this is setting him off. Maybe it's the thought of you being happier without him in your life that is eating him away.

"Shit, he's walking over."

"Waah, let's go!"

It doesn't occur to Nagi that Reo's in front of him until his best friend clears his throat. Reo puts a hand on Nagi's shoulder and gives him one of those looks. A look that insinuates something big that he can't place a finger on but knows it's full of negative nuance.

"Don't be an ass right now," is all that Reo says.

"An ass?" Nagi echoes.

He allows Reo to tug him out of his seat and Nagi almost feels lethargic from how long he's been sitting down. A final push towards the edge of the dance floor is when he catches your sullen figure.

"I'm surprised that you haven't caught on," Reo continues after a while. Nagi recognizes the tone. He doesn't say anything more, and Nagi appreciates it that much, at least.

It's funny how much his mood is able to shift. First from feeling annoyed, to borderline sleepy, to determined. Nagi thinks he's finally learning how to read his relationship with you.

It's only when he's inches apart that he realizes that you're on the verge of tears. Nagi instinctively reaches out his hands and softly cups your cheeks, rubbing his thumbs across in his attempt to calm you.

What's wrong, he wants to ask but he already knows the answer to that. He feels bad for complaining all week, but he feels even worse for essentially abandoning your needs for god knows how long.

Nagi chews on his lips as a new idea starts to brew. It's an uncharacteristic idea. An idea that pushes him to become a new version of himself—the person he wants to be but struggling to understand.

"Hey," Nagi calls out your name slowly. "Can I dance with you?" You open your mouth—probably to say it's okay and you'd rather not make him uncomfortable—but Nagi continues before you can get a word in, before your tears start falling. "I'm sorry, I should've paid closer attention." He says in a whisper.

You fall silent and Nagi is wondering if he's said something he shouldn't have. He quietly peers over at Reo who's aggressively nodding his head, throwing a thumbs up across the room. You shift awkwardly in place before giving Nagi a faint smile.

"I would like that," You sound a little hesitant, but surprisingly welcoming to the suggestion. "I mean, if you're okay with it?"

"Don't worry about what I think, you've done plenty for me already." And he means it.

Nagi migrates his hands from your face to your waist as the music shifts to something slower, more tender, and sweet. It's obvious to everyone in the room that you two are a little nervous and it's almost laughable. He's been dating you just shy of a year and has never once offered to dance with you. It comes as no shock to him that you're growing shy under his touch and movements, despite being together countless times. This feels different to Nagi, and he's positive you're thinking the same thing.

It takes a while, maybe because you're both getting used to this foreign feeling, but you eventually wrap your arms around his neck and hug closer to his body. Somehow, that short circuits Nagi's brain and he freezes in place.

"Sei, is everything alright?"

There's a wave of guilt that washes over his eyes. This act is weighing Nagi down, more than he wants to admit, and he has to pull away. Eyes glued to the ground because if he looks at you he'll start to feel nervous, confused, and small.

"Sorry, I'm... trying my best."

"Sei, it's okay." It's your turn to rub your hands across his cheeks and he doesn't realize that he's flushed in the face until you comment. "You're warm."

"Sorry," He doesn't know why he's apologizing again. For being flustered? Not knowing how to dance? Or afraid of disappointing you again? He thinks it's a mixture of all three.

"Hey, as long as you're trying then I'm proud of you." You reply with ease.

You're always kind to him. Most times, you don't push him more than what he's willing to give and maybe that's why he's comfortable around you. Even if he does know you're silently judging his actions but it's okay, because it's you. But he also knows that he's been taking advantage of this trait and it sucks having to find this out tonight.

Nagi nods. You're right, he doesn't need to worry about anything else but you in this moment.

#bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #doobea writing #blue lock imagines #blue lock headcanons #nagi seishiro #nagi seishrio x reader #wow nagi debut on my blog #i hope hes not too ooc here #dating guys like nagi requires uuh a lot of communication ig #i mean look what he did to reo #blue lock scenarios #blue lock fluff