#//thank you for sending this in lovely :3

[hugheshischier4313]

YOU MISS HIM DON'T YOU | Q. HUGHES

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Quinn Hughes x fem!reader 

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | Emotional cheating (not on Quinn),  angst, fluff, oblivious!reader and Quinn, soft!Quinn, neighbors-to-lovers, reader x OC (Andrew, reader's boyfriend), alcohol, flirting. 

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Months into your friendship with Quinn the two of you finally admit to what's been there all along. 

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Based on a scene in Season 3 of Desperate Housewives (No spoilers in the writing. Bolded words are quoted from the show): “Don't tell me nothing happened. We’ve been fighting over this all week. You miss him, don't you?”

𝗪/𝗖 | 6.8K

𝗔/𝗡 | hi lovelies, thank you for being patient with me for the full fic of this idea. The lines indicate time jumps, they jump back and forth to different scenarios of reader and Quinn through the time they have spent together. I absolutely love these two and this idea and I couldn't find a perfect ending. I rewrote multiple endings and ultimately decided to just make a part two when I finally figure it out. Hope you enjoy, love ya!

It had been a wonderful night, the wine glass in your hand still full, the bottle sitting on the coffee table. The random episode of Bob's Burgers in the background forgotten, adding nothing more than a soft glow to the room. As you sat there listening to Quinn talk about his summer back in Michigan, you found yourself examining him. The way his eyes roam the room as he speaks, the smiles before he lets out a laugh and the way his hands run through his hair occasionally.

"You should have visited, even for just a weekend. You would have thought this was way more entertaining if you were there." Quinn teased as he finished his story. You pushed down the feeling of guilt as you smiled back at him, poking a finger into his shoulder. "I wouldn't have let you live it down if I had been there. So it's probably for the best," You teased back, but the truth was you had wanted to visit Quinn over the off-season, but when the time came, life had another plan.

_________________________________

"You should come down for the week. The sunrise and sunset alone would make the trip worth it. Imagine spending your week off by the lake, a beautiful sky for you to take pictures of. I can send you a ticket, just say the word." As the smile crept onto your face, so did the slightest tinge of pink. You had been putting away groceries when your AirPods had read the message out loud. Quinn had a habit of making fun of your love for the sky. Always calling you out, shrieking, 'The sky is so pretty' like you had repeatedly done (in a terrible attempt to match your voice). You swear you could hear it through the text despite him being over 2,000 miles apart. 

When Andrew's call came through, you found your phone and typed the text about sending it. "Y/N! I got it, I got the promotion!" His voice came booming out, and the excitement was evident in his voice. "Congratulations, Andrew!" you reciprocated his excitement. "And what better time than before you have a week off. I was thinking of going away for the week, maybe Banff? I'll rent us the cabin we had when we went last time." He kept ranting, too excited to keep anything in, but his voice was drowned out by the thought of Quinn. 

"I have to go, but I'll send you the flight information later tonight. I can't wait to see you." Andrews's voice didn't falter, almost like he was on autopilot, just rambling what he knew to say. They exchanged their quick goodbyes before he hung up. 

As if to taunt you, the next sound into your ear was' NEW MESSAGE FROM QUINN 'Or even just for the weekend if you have other plans for your week off.' As you looked back down at the phone and saw the unset message,  'A whole week of sunset pictures? Count me in Q'; the thought of deleting it weighed heavily on you. 

The truth was you had truly missed Quinn this summer. You had moved to Vancouver for grad school in the fall, and as luck would have it, Quinn lived in the apartment next to you. In the past 10 months, you had known each other; the only time you hadn't seen each other was when he had away games. And even then, when he returned, he made it up to you by devoting time to be with you. He bought you a postcard from all the cities he played in, and you had them displayed on your fridge. He signed all of them after the few glasses of wine you shared after one of his longer roadies.

You had (in your tipsy state) jokingly told him to sign one so you could sell them if he ever decided to be a jerk to you. And as he did, you knew you could never sell them; they meant too much to you. He had made a joke about writing nonsense on them to lower the value if you tried. Over the off-season, you found yourself religiously turning them over to look at his little notes, his penmanship holding inside jokes that you held dear to your heart.

As you stood there staring at the postcards on your fridge, thinking of the brunette, you couldn't help but feel the guilt in your chest. The nagging thought that your friendship with Quinn may not be as platonic as the two of you acted.

Why were you standing there thinking of another man when you were just on the phone with your boyfriend? You hadn't and would never cheat on Andrew, but the world seemed to disappear when you were with Quinn. Time slipped by faster, and you longed to sit on a couch with him again.

And at that moment, it had become apparent that you no longer had a choice; you had to choose between the two men, Andrew or Quinn? But then again, it wasn't really a choice between the men; it was a choice between right and wrong.

'Sorry Quinn, I can't this week. Take lots of pictures for me. Can't wait to see them when you're back.' Send. It was vague, and you knew he could send them to you whenever, but you also knew that, at least for this week, he couldn't be your primary focus. You needed to focus on your partner and his accomplishments.

_________________________________

As you had sat in a surprisingly unpopulated section of the airport for a Friday night, you haphazardly skipped through Instagram stories until you were faced with Quinn's private story of him on the boat with his friends. You had no reason, or right, to be this upset, but as you looked at the sunset on the picture's horizon, you couldn't stop yourself from hitting the call button. 

The phone barely rang once before you heard his voice, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "Hey, I was j-" His voice was laced with exhaustion as if whatever physical activity he was doing was still fresh. And you found yourself more clam than you had been in days. Oh, how you had missed his voice.

"Are you upset with me?" The words were rushed and tumbled out before you could comprehend the repercussions. You knew that now was not the time to be having this discussion. You were sitting in the corner seats at the airport, waiting for your plane to begin boarding. But it had been two days since that last message you sent, and you had heard nothing from Quinn.

You had been a little hurt when you spent all of Thursday waiting for a response from the brunette. He had never taken more than a few hours to respond to you, which is why you had given him the benefit of the doubt that Wednesday night after you sent the last message. But now that you had spent the entirety of your workday contemplating writing a new message, you were upset, and the Insta story had only added fuel to the fire.  

"No, of course not. Why?" His voice was genuine and calm, a nice contrast to the loud background on both sides of the phone. You figured he was still on the boat with his friends. "Oh, I just figured you were upset since I haven't heard from you." You felt stupid for calling and continuing to talk despite it being obvious he wasn't alone. "But I'll let you go; sorry for calling." you hit the red button before you had time to overthink. Your voice had become weak, and you hated that you were taking time away from him and the time he had to spend with his friends and family.

You had the overwhelming feeling to cry, but you didn't know if it was because of guilt for Andrew or Quinn or because any doubts you had that Quinn was mad at you had disappeared. NEW MESSAGE FROM QUINN: 'Give me 10 minutes, I'll call you back'. The message held an inevitable dominance over it; there was no question that it was a conversation that had to happen, and it had to happen now. 

_________________________________

Quinn had known about your boyfriend from the very beginning. He had seen you together, bringing boxes to the apartment beside his, and noticed you immediately. He wished he could say it had all been innocent, but the first thing he saw was how your legs looked in the tennis skirt you had been wearing. You bent down to pick up a fallen pillow as he exited his car in the parking garage. His eyes lingered on you, and he forced himself to turn away before you noticed. He swore he would offer to help you before he met eyes with Andrew as he stepped out of the parking garage elevator.

"I didn't mean to; it just happened. You were bent over, in a skirt, right outside my car; it was hard to look away when I didn't expect you to be there." Quinn had a slight pink tone to his features right now, and you were smiling, trying to suppress a laugh. You stood in the kitchen, pouring the margaritas into your cups.

"You mean the skirt I'm wearing right now? Is that why you mentioned it? Quinn, you could have kept that secret forever. I mean, you couldn't waterboard that information out of me." You were always more giggly when drinking, which was contagious to Quinn. "But since you didn't, I'm gonna use this against you for the foreseeable future."  The laugh left you when you got back to Quinn's couch. "I'll try not to make any sudden movements that may catch you off guard," you teased as you stood before him and handed him his drink.

"It's not funny; I've felt bad about this for months." he tried to be serious, but the smile never left his face. As you nodded with a smirk on your lip, you turned from him after he grabbed the glass, "Y/N, I'm serious." He wasn't; he could never stay upset with you, even in a joking manner. 

"I guess I'll just go back to my apartment then; I don't want to bring back any of your past shame." your body once again turned towards him as you leaned down over to hug him, "Bye, Hughes, I'll make sure to only wear this when you're out of town." He let out a sarcastic 'ha.' "You don't have to leave; I can control myself. I promise." he rolled his eyes and slowly got up to stop you.

"I don't know; I think the only logical answer is to wear your Drew sweats." You had pivoted and ran to his room before he could reply. You had bugged him countless times to try them on over the past months; you had just wanted to see if they were worth the hype because the black sweats had been sold out forever (and maybe, subconsciously, because of your past love for Justin Bieber). And every time he said no, you took this as your opportunity to try them and bug him simultaneously.

Being in Quinn's room was familiar to you. You had spent most days at one of the two apartments, and sometimes that meant laying in his bed watching TV after he had just returned from a string of away games or after a challenging game or practice. You had worn his clothes before, too; it was always in a platonic way, the first time you had locked yourself out after being out on a run when it started raining. You lost your key on the run, and the concierge was gone for the night. You had also spent the night; he let you sleep in his bed and took the couch. 

As you ran into the room, you closed the door behind you and walked into the closet, closing that door, too. You had found the sweats and slowly walked out of the closet. There was no sight of Quinn, and the bedroom door was still closed. You walked towards the door, sweats in your hand, as you called out to him, "Q? Are you -" But you were cut off as he tackled you onto the bed next to you.

The two of you lay on the bed laughing before turning to face each other. The laughter died down, and you were smiling and looking at each other. The two of you lay there for a while, not saying anything until you broke the silence, "Your eyes are a different color every time I see you, but today I can see every shade in them." You don't know why you needed to share your observation with him, but it felt right. "You cut your hair." He reached out to tuck a strand behind your ear and play with the end of another. His voice had been so him, soft yet dominant. It was true; you had gotten a slight trim the day before and a few longer layers at the bottom of your hair, a small and simple detail that could have been missed. In fact, he was the only person to notice; none of your classmates or even Andrew, although over Facetime, had noticed. 

The room felt heavy as you looked from his hand in your hair to his eyes again, stopping to look at his lips for a second. And when you reached his gaze, it was unreadable. "I -" A phone began to ring as Quinn was about to speak. You could see a shift in his demeanour as you continued to look at him. He got up to find the cause of the sound. "It's your phone." He walked it over to you before heading out to the living room again. The phone illuminated ANDREW CALLING.

You looked towards the empty doorway as you brought the phone up to your ear. "Hey you," your playful voice sounded forced, and the smile on your lips was even more so. "Hey, I have a surprise for you. The notification said it was in the lobby." This shocked you, not only because it was a surprise but because Andrew was never one for small gestures. It was always something big like him ordering 4 dozen roses to your desk after your fourth date. But he had never just sent you or given you something randomly.

Andrew could be a sweet guy; you worked together before he asked you to have dinner with him. You knew you were moving and had no intention of starting anything serious before moving to Vancouver, but he had been so persistent, and it felt nice to have a distraction with all the craziness of moving. But living in different provinces has brought no comfort to either of you. It felt like pen pals most of the time. You would call him a few times a week and talk for an hour before he had to go. There had been a few times where you could have sworn you heard someone else there, but the times you mentioned it, it felt like the fight had been more trouble than the issue itself.

And maybe subconsciously, you felt like a hypocrite. Your relationship with Quinn was platonic, but the number of times you were confused as a couple in public could be seen another way. In fact, you hated to admit it, but it felt like you communicated more with Quinn when he was away than with your boyfriend. 

"There's something for me in the lobby of my apartment complex? Andrew, what did you do? It's 7pm?" As you started talking, Quinn walked into view, bringing your drinks and extending to you. "It's a surprise; you should go get it now; I'm assuming it's just on the concierge desk based on the picture." You stared up at Quinn as you listened to Andrew, "Okay, I'll be down in a minute, and I'll call you back once I have it." The phone call was quickly over. 

"What did you order?" Quinn asked with a smile, used to all the packages you've received. A few that had been too heavy for you to carry on your own that Quinn had taken himself. Even when they hadn't been too heavy, he would carry them for you if he was there. "I'm not sure, Andrew sent it to me." You could have sworn there was a look on his face that was gone as quickly as it appeared. "You want me to go with you in case you need help?" there was no hesitation in your quick reply of 'yes.'

As the two of you walked down the hall, you were overly aware of the distance between you. It was no different than it had been in the past, but there was a particular charge. The words shared and unshared in the bedroom hung heavy. "So I never got to even put the sweats on," you joked while waiting in front of the elevator. "You can borrow them when we get back up if you want," his answer made your breath hitch. He had never let you try them on, much less borrow them.

He looked at you, letting you walk into the elevator first. The ride down was quick and quiet, but how you looked at each other made everything race faster. Your heartbeat quickened as you saw his slight deviation towards your lips before making their way back up. "Quinn," your voice came out as a low plea; whether it was to continue or to stop was uncertain. He stepped closer to you as the two of you stood in silence for a brief moment before the doors opened. As you stepped out, your heart felt heavy.

As you made your way towards the front desk, you saw the back of a man at the desk, but when you heard the voice,  it made you freeze. Andrew he was in your lobby waiting for you, Quinn failed to notice your pause and ran into you. However, before you could tip forward, Quinn had steadied you with a hand on your arm and waist. Andrew called out when he turned around. 

"Andrew! What are you doing here?" You didn't miss the look he gave the sight of the two of you or how his gaze only lingered on Quinn's hand on your waist as he walked closer. You unhooked yourself from Quinn to hug Andrew. The hug was stiff; he held himself higher, and his head hadn't moved from the position it had been in before. You figured he was still looking at Quinn. 

"I wanted to surprise you; we settled a case earlier than expected, so I took a few days off." You had pulled yourself to his side, a view of both him and Quinn. They kept looking towards each other, completely ignoring you. "Well, Andrew, this is my friend I always tell you about, Quinn. He introduced himself the day I moved in, remember? He lives next door to me." Andrew smiled down at you as you continued. "Quinn, you remember Andrew." Quinn looked from you to Andrew before extending his hand. "Good to see you again, man." Andrew hesitated before shaking his hand. 

There was a quick silence before Quinn grabbed his phone from his pocket and looked at the screen, excusing himself, "I have to make a phone call; I'll see you around," but before he could walk off, you gave him a side hug goodbye. You had done it a thousand times before, and feeling like you couldn't because Andrew was there didn't feel like a good sign, so you did it anyway. "I'll text you," you quietly said as you let go.

The next few days had been uneventful, showing Andrew around Vancouver. The hallway had felt unusually empty each time you passed, hoping to run into Quinn. A string of away games was starting that Monday, and when you came back from dropping off Andrew at the airport on Sunday night, you noticed the bag sitting in front of your apartment door. 

The black sweats were inside with a note, 'I'll pick them up when I'm back. Enjoy :). ~ Q" He never asked for them back

_________________________________

"Hey," his voice was clear despite the pixilated quality of his Facetime call. He was wearing a white T-shirt, his hair was wet, and he had a look on his face you had never seen. "Hey Q," your pulse felt overwhelming as if anyone who looked at you could see it throbbing against your neck. "Are you having a good time back home?" It was a buffer; you didn't know what Quinn wanted to say, and judging by the look on his face, you weren't sure you wanted to.

"Andrew called me." His voice was blunt, direct to the point, despite the few seconds he stared at you, hesitating to continue. "He asked if I was sleeping with you." His eyes held yours while the rest of his face had no expression. "What?" The nervous laughter that filled the air around you was nothing more than a way to suppress the hurt and anger of this new confession.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry Quinn. I don't know why he's been so paranoid lately. It seems like he misinterprets everything I mention to him as something else." For the last two months, you had known that Andrew suspected your friendship with Quinn was something more. He had brought it up the last time he was in Vancouver and again over the phone a few weeks ago (although it had been in retaliation to the question you had asked him about the girl with him in a video his friend had posted on their story). 

"Did he misinterpret it, or did he just see what is obvious that you and I can't admit?" The question was loaded with truths that weren't meant to come out. The look that the two of you shared through the screen had only confirmed it. In a split second, months of ignorance had led to a confession when the two of you were thousands of miles apart.

His breathing was heavy; you could hear it through the phone; he had a look on his face that closely resembled his look when his team lost in the Playoffs. It was the look you saw in the mirror this morning when you had not heard from him. It was the split-second look he had in the lobby the day Andrew surprised you.

Everything playing in your head; all the nights he would knock at your apartment after a game with a box of food, the way you would pack him an 'after-game snack' consisting of oranges, a granola bar and a fruit snack (which he teased you about until you mentioned it was like they did in little leagues), the way your breath hitches every time he gets shoved or falls. 

All the times, the two of you had gone for a drive when life felt too heavy, and you shared secrets you had never told anyone before. The way he took off your makeup when you had gone out one night or how he knows your coffee order for every cafe you go to. Quinn and you had been in the in-between since you first hung out. 

"I mean, how long are we going to pretend like nothing is happening?" His voice was calm and demanding, with a hint of subdued anger or annoyance you hadn't picked up. "Quinn, I -" You were at a loss for words; nothing could genuinely capture how Quinn had made you feel. 

You knew you were safe with Quinn around, not only in a physical sense but emotionally. The way he made you feel heard and seen. The two of you were floating in two separate worlds, but the weight that engulfed you was the same. You understood the complication of pressure and leadership; you understood needing to be the most prominent presence in the room, even if you weren't the loudest. You understood the pressure of wanting, no needing, to be the best for everyone else even if it tore you apart. 

It was all those things and more that drove you together, the ability to soothe the ache the buildup of burden had left sacred on the two of you. When you felt a crushing weight on you, the only thing that could alleviate it was being around the man who had quickly become your best friend. Immediately, he knew whether you needed to just sit and cry while he comforted you or go for a drive so you could yell out lyrics or if you needed him to just talk about mundane things.

And you do the same; you knew by the way he left the ice, by the way, he knocked on the door, by the way, he walked down the hallway toward your apartments. You knew when to go over to him so he could catch the recaps, and you knew when to invite him to yours to force him to ignore the criticism. You knew that even after a winning streak or after a goal, he needed comfort, understanding the overwhelming feeling of the slightest reprieve until the next game.

And the honest truth was that you had pushed back any romantic feelings because you knew without a doubt he was your person. You had never been one for friendship with men, and when your friends asked about what you could have in common with a professional hockey player, you never knew what to tell them. Because from every book, movie, series and scenario you knew, as cliche as it was, the only quote that could describe what the two of you shared was, 'Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.' 

"Y/N, please." His voice was barely above a whisper, a plea to say anything. "It doesn't have to change anything. I just need to know; I didn't mean to hurt you; I tried to give you space. I've tried to respect your relationship." He had been ignoring you to avoid hurting your relationship, and in the process, the two of you were the only ones who were hurt. "Quinn." There was only one way you could describe it: "You consume me." Despite the tears that fell, you stared at him through the phone, wishing he was there with you, wishing your plane was going to Michigan. 

"Now boarding flight-" The announcement couldn't have come at a worse time; there was so much to say, and an airport right before boarding was not ideal. "That's my flight." You wiped your tears as you stared at the man on the screen. "Y/N, I'm sorry for bringing this up now; it's not my best moment." he was trying to cheer you up; he wanted you to know that everything would be okay. "Quinn, I don't know what to do," your voice was a quiet plea to understand what was to come.

"Given everything that was said and that we're in two different countries right now, I think we should take some time to digest. I know you're spending time with him, and I don't want you to feel overwhelmed. I think we should take the next week or two." your heart was breaking, but your mind knew that was the best option. And for the first time since the beginning of the conversation, you thought of Andrew, and the slight tinge of annoyance arose again. 

Quinn must have noticed because he was quick to interject his following comment with the most sincere look, "But before you go, I just need you to know that you consume me too." He had his signature half smile as he continued, "You are the most amazing woman I have ever met. I think about you constantly. I think about you when I look at the sky, when I'm practicing with my brothers, when I go out with friends and when I lie in bed. I watch for you in the crowd during warm-ups. You've become one of my favourite people so quickly, and I'm so glad of all the apartments in the city, or even just in the building; you moved into the one next to mine." 

You smiled as the tears fell; if there had ever been any doubt, you now knew for sure that Quinn was your person. "I'll be forever grateful that the universe brought me to you too." And with a quick goodbye and promise to reach out in two weeks, you were in your seat on the plane. 

Your mind racing with thoughts of Quinn and the revelations that had come to light and then again to Andrew. You didn't know why, but your annoyance was morphing into slight anger, the idea that he had called Quinn and accused him of sleeping with you. What annoyed you more was that he had done that and hadn't mentioned it to you. He hadn't mentioned the idea of your friendship with Quinn being something more since that one phone call a little over a month ago. 

You sat with that feeling for the rest of the flight. 

_________________________________

"Okay, fine, you are mad at me! But name one thing that I have done to deserve it!" Andrew was standing on the opposite side of the room. His breathing was heavy as he ran a hand through his hair. "You called Quinn." your voice was laced with a hint of sadness and betrayal. The statement was simple and direct but held a meaning that both of you knew would change everything. 

The argument had started with something so small: the two of you walking on eggshells the past few days and your passive-aggressive comments when he mentioned anything related to Vancouver. Over the past few days, you had tried to get Andrew to admit to calling Quinn; he wasn't stupid; he had connected the dots and was simply choosing to ignore it (which infuriated you even more). The days dragged on; waking up and getting ready in silence, spending the day exploring, trying to avoid long conversations at all costs, getting ready for bed with few words and getting into bed facing away from each other. 

Andrew's response had taken a second longer than it should have. His hesitation made it clear that he was surprised by the direct approach, almost as if he hadn't thought you would say anything.  "You're damn right I did, I've seen the messages, the glances, the pictures. What was I supposed to do? Pretend that nothing was going on?" His voice was slightly louder as his eyes narrowed on you. 

"Nothing was going on. He never touched me." you raised your voice, but the words weakened. Your hands were flailing around, trying to emphasize your point.  The tears behind your eyes aching to be let free. It was too much, and you knew the implications of your words. This time, however, Andrew didn't hesitate to answer; his reply, even louder than before, came out the second you were done talking. "And I wasn't gonna sit around and wait until he did."  

The two of you stood there staring at each other, chests heaving, eyes full of emotion. You sat on the counter stool beside you before looking away from Andrew and placing your head in your hands, elbows propped on the counter. You heard his footsteps getting closer, and soon, Andrew was pulling out the stool next to you. 

You glanced at him from your peripheral view; he was staring at the kitchen in front of him, a look of contemplation on his face. "Do you have feelings for him, Y/N?" you diverted your eyes back to the counter. The question caught you off guard, "Hmm?" you could feel his eyes on you again, but you couldn't gain the strength to look up. "Do you have feelings for Quinn?" Each word was emphasized by the slight pause he took between them. 

Although you couldn't meet his eyes, you mustered enough courage to look up from your hands towards the kitchen. "I would never cheat on you, you know that." you shook your head as you said it, knowing it wasn't the answer he sought. "That's not what I asked." you wanted to look at him, to tell him he was all you wanted, that there was nothing between you and Quinn, but that wasn't the truth, and all you could do was continue the slight head shake you had started. 

Andrew didn't say anything for a bit, but you could hear the sound of his movement as he repositioned himself on the stool and leaned closer to you. "Did you fall for him?" His voice was softer and more quiet, slightly above a whisper. You tried to speak, but the tears beat you. As the tears left your eyes, you looked towards Andrew. His eyes were glued on the fridge, his expression hurt, and his eyes held a slight gloss. "Oh god," he was avoiding eye contact with you now. 

You stared at him a moment longer, trying to calm down, "Nothing happened." your voice was shakier than it had been all night, and the tone held no conviction. He turned his head slightly, the two of you locking eyes. "Don't tell me nothing happened. We've been fighting over this all week." He turned away before he even finished his sentence. Your tears continued, "You miss him, don't you?" The look on his face had hardened, but his voice remained the same. He knew the answer; it had been evident every time he called you, and you were alone or when he would try to call, only to be met with a text saying you were on the phone but would call him back. 

You kept your eyes on him; the guilt weighed heavy on you. The implication of every choice you had made since the first interaction with Quinn ran through your mind. You couldn't put your thoughts into words or rationalize your feelings. "I'm sorry." It wasn't even a valid answer, but it was all you could think of. Your emotions were running too high, and you needed a breather. He leaned back on the stool and let out a breath, but a few tears trickled down as he did. "Damn" His voice was barely audible; if you hadn't been looking at him or if the room hadn't been so quiet, you would have missed it. 

_________________________________

It hadn't been your intention to end things with Andrew that way. Despite all the issues the two of you shared, you didn't want to hurt him. When you talked everything through the following morning you both knew the relationship had been over longer than either of you cared to admit.  It had been as civil as a breakup could be, and the guilt that had once overwhelmed you started to blur.

As you looked out the plane window and saw Vancouver, you felt the missing pieces of you start to come together. It was strange how life finds a way to bring you exactly where you need to be. Accepting your graduate program at The University of British Columbia led you to a weekend of exploring and apartment hunting in Vancouver. You had found your apartment complex by accident; you had been lost looking for another building when your eyes landed on it. The large winders on every floor practically shoved you into the lobby, and when you applied, only one unit was available for your expected move-in date. It had been a long shot, and somehow you ended up winning. 

You could recall the sound of a car pulling into the attached parking garage as you pulled a box out of your trunk, unintentionally knocking down a pillow in all the commotion. As you bent down to pick it up, you could hear the car door open and close before hearing a few footsteps. They stopped as you located your missing pillow; as you stood back up, you turned to find the stranger but found yourself searching for Andrew after hearing his voice. As you stood there waiting for him to grab another box, you looked towards the elevator and saw the stranger standing there. You couldn't see his face; he was just a blur of brunette hair and a gray outfit as the doors closed, and although you couldn't make out all his facial features, you could have sworn you saw him give you a smile before the doors closed completely. And before you even had a chance, Quinn captured your attention. And unbeknownst to you then, you had made a lasting impression on him, too. 

As you stared at the city, music in your ears, in the back of the Uber home, you could see every moment you and Quin shared. Every mundane moment, from knocking on his door in the morning with breakfast bagels and coffee to drunk conversations in the back of a car after a night out celebrating to sitting in either of your living rooms watching a movie with your commentary. It was like watching a montage scene, and it felt freeing because, for the first time, there was the possibility for something more. The feeling of longing had been hidden underneath your guilt, coming hand in hand, and now both were gone, instead replaced with something positive. 

"Miss, you have a package." The voice of your building's concierge brings you back to reality. It was a relatively wide rectangular box; you hadn't ordered anything that would come in a box of that size, which fueled your curiosity even more. "Thank you." You smiled and offered a kind goodbye before walking to the elevator. 

Without hesitation, another image of Quinn flew into your mind as the elevator doors closed. The first time you spoke was in the elevator up to your floor. He smiled, encouraged you to enter the elevator first, and asked if you needed help with your box despite carrying his bag. However,  after declining his offer, he made no other effort to continue the conversation. The two of you casually glanced at each other as the doors closed, waiting for the movement to begin, but when it didn't, you looked over to the right side of the door and laughed slightly. "What floor do you need?" he asked with a slight chuckle. "Sixteenth, please." You returned his chuckle and smiled. You watched as he clicked the sixteenth button but no other. "Are you on the same floor?" You could hear excitement in your voice, but you pushed it down. "Yeah, guess that means we're neighbour neighbours" Once again, that damn smile felt contagious; he felt contagious. 

When you reached your floor, you found yourself walking faster than usual to reach your door. It had only been a week; somehow, everything was completely different yet utterly the same. You walked into the apartment and set the package down on the counter, needing to know what was inside. Opening the lid, you are met with the most beautiful arrangement of your favourite flowers. There were different shades of your favourite colour, layering beautifully on each other, but what caught your eyes was the distinct blue rose in the middle, an envelope sitting directly on top. 

The envelope had your name written on it with the handwriting you had come to memorize. Inside was a postcard from Michigan, "Y/N, I can't get you out of my head. Only two more weeks left before I'm back in Van, and I can't wait to see you again. I found this while I was out, and it reminded me of you.   -Q" You held the card close to you for a second; it had the faintest mix of florals and Quinn's cologne. You looked at the fridge before deciding to keep the note in your room. It felt intimate, something you wanted to keep between you. Something caught your eye when you took the flowers out of the box and into a vase. Inside the envelope was a small plastic bag; you reached for it and found a necklace. 

A delicate chain with a small pendant with a sun and a moon, and when you turned it over, your breathing hitched; there was a small 43 engraved. When you read the note, you assumed the postcard was what he had seen, but it was the necklace. He had seen a necklace encompassing the sun and moon, something you were passionate about, and he had added something personal. The engraving must have been something he did; the probability that it had been done in manufacturing was slim to none, making it all the more special. You put it on and never wanted to take it off. 

You grabbed the postcard off the counter and lifted it closer to your chest before taking a close-up picture from your lips to showcase the necklace and postcard, "I'm thinking about you too. To the longest two weeks that will ever exist. To the sun and the moon and back." And as you hit the send button, you couldn't help but think about what was yet to come.  

_________________________________

[sunshinehaze1]

Sizzlin’

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Summary: Your friend convinces you to attend a BBQ at her boyfriend’s friend’s house. The last thing you expected was meeting Frankie.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI. meet-cute, drinking (beers), slight dubcon (both reader and Frankie have had 2 beers, Frankie checks in), f!oral (it is Frankie, duh!), protected PiV, no use of Y/N

a/n: This was written for @yxtkiwiyxt’s NHIE Challenge. I received the prompt, “Never have I ever slept in someone else’s bed.” I LOVED this challenge and this was so much fun to write. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to my beautiful beta reader @80ssong 🥰

word count: 5,176

ao3 | ml

"Come on, his friends are really hot!"

Sabrina has been bugging you to attend a BBQ with her boyfriend's friends this weekend. They've been dating for over a year, and you've hung out with him a few times, but his golden retriever puppy energy can be overwhelming. He's a great guy, though, and he makes her happy. You're thrilled your closest friend has found someone who treats her right.

You roll your eyes. "I'm not looking to date right now."

"Who said anything about dating?" your friend counters. "You could just have some fun."

You brush her off at the suggestion. "Please, will you just come? His friends are a lot of fun."

Finally, you relent. "Ok, fine, I'll go. It's not like I had any plans this weekend anyway."

Sabrina lets out a delighted squeal and wraps you in a bear hug. "Perfect, I'll send you the address and meet you there at 3."

"Should I bring anything?" you ask as you walk your friend to the door.

"They're simple guys. Beer will do just fine." Sabrina waves goodbye and closes the door behind her.

—

With the address in the GPS and a couple of six packs in the passenger seat, you begin your drive. You're nervous about being in a new place and meeting new people, especially those who are "really hot." It's early fall in Florida, so you can still get away with wearing a sundress. The heat won't take a break for at least another two months, so you wear your favorite one to boost your confidence. "Fake it til you make it," right?

You pull into a quiet neighborhood. The streets are lined with older homes shaded with mature trees, dripping in Spanish moss. The GPS pings as you approach your final destination, and you park on the street in front of a one-story brick home with a driveway full of pickup trucks and Jeeps.

Before you exit the car, you take a final look in the rearview mirror to adjust your hair and ensure your makeup hasn't melted off. Taking a deep breath, you grab a six-pack in each hand and head toward the house.

—

"Pope, for fuck's sake!" A broad-shouldered man, who fills the entire door frame, swings the front door open just as you reach for the doorbell. Your arms flail in surprise, and you fumble to keep the beer from crashing onto the pavement.

"Oh, shit." the man startles. "Sorry about that; I was just going out to get something from my truck. Here, let me help you with those." His calloused hands brush over yours to grab the cartons from your hands.

"Um," you stammer. "Thank you." Sabrina definitely wasn't exaggerating. Benny's friends are hot—at least this one is.

You take him in, starting with broad shoulders covered in a washed-out maroon t-shirt underneath a chambray button-up. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off his sinewy forearms. You notice a small bullseye tattoo on his hand resting between his thumb and index finger. A ballcap with an unfamiliar logo sits atop a mop of brown curls, which peek out in the back. His eyes are a rich brown; crinkles form at the corners when he smiles wide, dimpling his right cheek.

You follow him inside the house. He sets down the beers and extends his hand to greet you. "I'm Frankie. You must be Sabrina's friend."

"It's nice to meet you, Frankie." His strong hand wraps around yours, and you introduce yourself.

Frankie quickly excuses himself and heads back outside to his truck.

—

"HEEYYYYYYYY!!!" you hear Sabrina sing-song as she walks into the house from the backyard. "You made it!" She greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug. She whispers in your ear teasingly, "So, I see you've met Frankie."

Shyly, "Yeah, we met. Almost lost a few beers in the process."

"I'm so glad you made it!" She drags you behind her toward the backyard. "Let me introduce you to everyone else."

You were surprised to see only Benny and two other men outside. This was a more intimate gathering than you had realized, immediately putting you at ease.

Sabrina introduces you to your host, Santiago, or "Pope," as you soon learn. Benny is two for two on the handsome friend count. He's shorter than Frankie, has dark hair and features, a broad smile, and a gregarious personality.

Next, you meet Benny's older brother, Will. Blonde hair, blue eyes, much more reserved than his brother. A strong, silent type. He seems content to be in his own world while he attends the grill.

You hear the grind of the sliding glass door behind you. Frankie walks through the threshold, waving a stack of folders in the air. "Got 'em!"

"My man!" Santiago slaps him on the back, "Thank you."

With his mission accomplished, Frankie finally has a chance to take you in fully. His gaze travels the length of your body, taking in your soft features and plush curves and admiring the cut of your dress, which perfectly accentuates your breasts, hips, and ass. The short length leaves your bare legs on full display.

—

The backyard is beautifully appointed with sable palms, hibiscus bushes, and a well-manicured lawn. There is a jacuzzi to the right of the grill, which doesn't surprise you; Santiago seems like a lady's man. No bachelor pad would be complete without a jacuzzi. Adirondack chairs encircle a small fire pit in the back corner of the yard. You reckon it only gets used during the short window when it is cold enough in Florida to have a fire and not melt.

"Food's almost ready," you hear Will call out.

Sabrina looks to you. "Come help me get the sides?"

You follow her back inside to the kitchen.

"What did I tell you?" Her eyes widened. "They're all hot, aren't they?"

You respond with a shy smile, "Yeah, you weren't lying."

She nudges her elbow against your arm while holding a bowl of potato salad. "I saw Frankie checking you out."

"You…" stammering out skeptically, "…no way?!"

"Yes, way! You look hot in that dress; why wouldn't he check you out?!"

You attempt to conceal your smile by focusing on the tiled floor. "He does seem nice."

"Oh, honey, he's not just nice! He's sweet, funny, and gorgeous," she whispers conspiratorially, "And it looks like he's packing some serious heat."

"Sabrina!" you scoff, playfully smacking her. "You're not supposed to be checking out your boyfriend's friend's package!"

"Says who? I can look, and you can touch to prove me right." She leaves you speechless, holding a tray of crudites, as she walks back outside, cooing to the boys that it's time to eat.

You make your way to the table with bench seats on either side. After you set the tray on the table, you take a moment to contemplate how to sit without exposing yourself in your short dress. Slowly, you lift your leg to straddle the bench, but your sandal catches, and you're thrown off balance. You brace yourself for an embarrassing fall until you feel strong forearms wrap around your waist to hold you steady. Frankie walking by at just the right time.

"Whoa, you alright there?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." sheepish and embarrassed, "Thank you."

He grabs your hand and says, "Here, let me." You begin your second attempt at climbing over the bench, flattening the back of your dress underneath you before you sit down.

Frankie looks down at you. "Would you like a drink?"

"That would be great, thank you." Anything to wash down the embarrassment and cool off from the heat of Frankie's touch.

He fishes out a bottle of beer from the cooler. Out of your periphery, you ogle him as he's bent over. His shirt stretched across his back, rugged khakis taut over his ass. You're suddenly much thirstier than you thought.

He returns to the table and sets the bottle before your plate. You feel the warmth radiating from his chest against your back, his bicep less than an inch from your face. A slight turn of your head and your nose would be in his armpit. You hold your breath, afraid that if you let yourself breathe in his scent, you'd succumb to the physiological response. That and the fear of getting caught sniffing a man you just met in front of his closest friends tempers your impulse.

Frankie sits across from you while the rest of the group sits around the table. Serving platters are passed around until the plates are full.

Frankie finds himself distracted by your sweetheart-necklined dress as everyone begins to eat. The hem curving over the top of your breasts, meeting in the middle at a point, which draws his attention to the tease of cleavage. He's completely ignored the clamor of conversation around him. Suddenly, a baby carrot lands in his lap, and he's brought back to the present. "Hermano, did you hear what I said?"

Frankie stumbles a response, "What's that?"

"Malo." Santiago shakes his head and huffs a laugh, "Pretty girl in front of you, and you lose all sense."

You feel the attention of the table shift to you and quickly avert your gaze, picking at the food on your plate and fixating on the pattern that outlines the rim of the dish. Your cheeks heat from the eyes burning into you. You're cautious about looking up to gauge Frankie's reaction; you don't want to become even more flustered.

Frankie flings the carrot back at Santiago, "Shut the fuck up, man!" But he's quick enough to bat it away before it hits him. The rest of the table erupts with laughter, allowing the awkwardness of the moment to dissipate, and you and Frankie join in.

Will asks, "So, how long have you and Sabrina been friends?"

You're thankful for the segue. "We lived on the same street growing up in Orlando. She followed when I moved to Tampa a few years ago for work."

Sabrina chimes in, "Yeah, you wouldn't make it here without me!" You both giggle.

"Sabrina tells me you all served together in the Army?" the men nod in unison.

They briefly share how Frankie, Santiago, and Will met in basic training. Benny joined their unit a couple of years later. They share minimal details about their deployments, not wanting to dredge up too many memories of that time, especially with new company present.

They've all retired from the Army and returned to civilian life. Will tours the state, speaking with personnel considering retirement from service. Santiago runs a security firm where Benny works. Benny is also an amateur MMA fighter, which Sabrina isn't fond of, but even she can admit he's really good. She's even told you that watching him fight does turn her on.

Lastly, you learn that Frankie has transitioned to civilian piloting and leads helicopter tours of the Bay. He has a four-year-old daughter, Lila. When he talks about her, his eyes sparkle. Clearly, she is the light of his life.

You hesitantly ask about her mom. You're nervous that this guy you've developed a crush on in a short period isn't single. "We split up over a year ago. It wasn't working, and we can be better parents to Lila this way."

You're impressed with Frankie's maturity and self-awareness, which enable him to have an amenable relationship with his ex. As a child of divorce with parents who were unable to put their grievances aside, you know how vital co-parenting is for a child. "I'm glad you could figure out what works best for you both and Lila."

Frankie nods before he takes a swig of beer. You watch as his thick fingers wrap around the bottle's neck. You're fixated on his throat; his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows the bitter IPA—the prominent vein on the side of his neck, with moles that dot along his tanned skin.

You and Frankie have been in a bubble. The friends surrounding you have been long forgotten as your conversation flows naturally. He has a calming presence that makes you feel comfortable and at ease. He's confident and funny, with a raspy laugh that takes over his whole face and radiates through him and a smile so broad that his eyes disappear.

Subtle flirting has become more overt. Your hands brush against his when you reach for the bowl of chips at the same time. You accidentally bump into him when you stretch your legs in front of you underneath the table. But he doesn't pull away, the rough sole of his shoe brushing gently against your bare leg. You glance at him with a sheepish grin, and he returns with a toothy smile. Fuck, he is handsome. Your eyes remain locked on each other, heat coiling within your body, and you sense the same in Frankie.

"I'm going to grab more ice for the cooler from the garage." Frankie stands up from the table, his eyes silently communicating to follow his lead.

As you get up from the table, you take his cue and ask, "Do you need any help?"

"Yeah, that would be great." A sly grin emerges. "Thanks!"

Frankie follows you through the door, his hand brushing softly against the small of your back. The contact sends shivers down your spine, and your pulse quickens as you feel his warm palm against the thin material of your dress.

"Garage is this way." Frankie guides you down the hall to the right of the kitchen.

When you turn the corner, Frankie is immediately on you. He is unable to hold back a second longer. He has you pinned against the wall, his arms bracketing you above your shoulders. Hunger swirls in his eyes, and you feel his breath against your cheek. He's so close to you that you're sure he can hear your heart beating.

"You are so god damn pretty." his finger trails along the strap of your dress and loops underneath, "And you're fucking killing me with this dress. I needed to get you alone."

A sigh escapes your lips, overwhelmed by his closeness and his touch on your bare shoulder. Unable to speak, Frankie fills the silence. "Can I kiss you?"

All you can manage is a nod, your bottom lip held between your teeth in anticipation.

He leans forward until his plush lips connect with yours. A moan escapes you both at the contact. What begins as a sweet, chaste kiss quickly becomes more intense.

He licks at the seam of your lips, seeking permission to enter. The bill of his hat hinders him, but he quickly flips it around to devour your mouth fully. It's a flurry of tangled tongues as he licks into your mouth. A groan escapes him when you grab his bottom lip between your teeth. A gentle nibble quickly soothed by the swipe of your tongue.

With his arm around your waist, he pulls you closer to him, the weight of his bulge pressing against your thigh. You feel wobbly even though you're sandwiched between Frankie's solid frame and the wall, forced to grip his shoulders for purchase to remain upright. Your fingers map the sinew of muscle along his traps and deltoids as he dives in for another kiss. Which somehow leaves you even more breathless than the last one.

The feverish kiss continues as he pulls you further down the hall. Twisted limbs tripping over each other, bumping into the walls, leaving picture frames askew. Spurts of laughter echo through the hallway as you fumble around, fingers tangled in the fabric of each other's clothes. His wide palms rest against your hips before snaking around to grip your ass cheeks. You can feel the slick arousal pool in your panties.

Emboldened by the drinks you had earlier and Frankie's attention, you suggest finding somewhere more private.

Frankie growls and grips your wrist, taking you further down the hall until you reach a threshold with a closed door. His arm reaches behind you to turn the knob, and you both fall into the dimly lit room. Dark curtains are draped in front of large windows, and the setting sun peeks through the gap in the fabric where they meet. You and Frankie stumble your way further into the room, hands groping manically over each other's bodies.

You slide Frankie's button-up shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Then, you tug the T-shirt underneath from the waistband of his pants. His hands travel under the hem of your dress, his fingers dimpling into the supple flesh. He shuffles you toward the bed and tosses you against it, giggling as you flail backward onto the soft mattress.

"Fuck, I could get used to that sound." he huffs.

Propped up on your elbows with one leg crossed over the other, you give him a coy smile. Frankie's eyes burn with lust as his gaze trails up your bare legs to your core. "I'm going to need you to open up, baby."

You slowly uncross your legs and spread them into a wide v. Frankie watches you intently, eyes focused on the pull of your dress up your thighs exposing the gusset of your panties, enraptured by the blooming wet spot caused by your arousal.

He hums as he falls to his knees. Leaning into your center with a deep inhale. "Fuck!" His palms warm on your thighs, his eyes pleading, "Can I?"

"Can you what, Frankie?" you tease.

"Can I taste you?" a desperate tone to his voice, "Please?"

You nod, and he's on you within seconds. His fingers slip into the sides of your panties, and you lift your hips so he can pull them off. Your slick folds glisten in the soft light of the room. "Fucking gorgeous cunt."

"Frankie, please."

"I got you. I got you."

The swipe of his tongue through your folds emphasizes his reassurance, and you cry out with relief. The whiskers of his beard brush against the sensitive skin. Frankie moans into your core as the sweet, musky taste of your arousal dances across his tongue. A sample is not nearly enough to satisfy him; he dives in for more.

Desperate for better access, he spreads your thighs further apart, pushing your legs up until your thighs meet your stomach. He holds you down with his palms flat against the back of your thighs. He leaves a wet trail along your skin as his arousal-soaked lips slowly kiss up and down your thighs. A gentle bite on your ass cheek sends a jolt of surprise through your body that you can't help but squeak out a laugh.

You can't even recover before the tip of his tongue journeys across your outer folds, looping around to the other side before sliding through your seam again. Up, up, up until he reaches your clit. His lips wrap around your sensitive nub. Sucking it into his mouth, lapping kitten licks with the tip of his tongue. Your body writhes below him, pulsating need coursing through your veins.

You reach between your legs, eager to feel any part of him, and yank the hat off his head. You fling it behind you, where it lands on the floor with a thud. His gorgeous hair is now unencumbered, your fingers free to roam through his soft curls. You grip the brown locks between your fingers and pull him further into your pussy, his nose bumps against your clit as he eats at you. "Fuck, frankie, you're incredible."

And he is. He really is. The best head you've ever experienced. Somebody who was a stranger just a few hours ago. You can't recall the last time you've been with such an enthusiastic lover. Especially one that is so wanton, eating at you, bringing you intense pleasure, and not making you feel like its a chore or an obligation.

You practically had to beg your ex to go down on you, and when he did, he expected you to return the favor. It never was about your pleasure. Frankie is different. He eats at you like it's his only way of survival, as if he'll die if you don't come by his tongue.

He groans into your cunt, shockwaves pulse through your body, at the precipice of your orgasm, "I'm so close."

Frankie, seeking relief from his painfully hard cock, reaches down to unfasten his pants. He releases his cock from his boxer briefs with a sigh. With a swipe of his hand, he gathers the precum that has leaked from his tip to coat his cock before he begins slow strokes up and down his length while he continues to devour your pussy, suckling at your clit. You're near the edge, ready to tumble forward as your legs shudder, the grip on his locks tighten. Your pussy begins to flutter around his tongue as you tumble over the edge, coating it in your release. "Frankie. Holy shit." you try to catch your breath. "Oh my god."

You lift his head from between your legs, and he reluctantly pulls away with a disappointed whimper. "Too much." you pant, "You're too fucking good at that."

Between your thighs, a crooked smile appears through his slick lips and his glossy eyes connect with yours, "Fuckin hell, you taste good."

Frankie moves from the floor and crawls up your body. The weight of his cock resting against your worn out pussy. He leans down to kiss you, leaving a trail of nibbles along your jawline until he reaches that soft spot behind your ear. Licking and sucking down the column of your neck to where it meets your shoulder. His tongue swipes along your collarbone as he slips the straps of your dress down your shoulders to reveal the lacy cups of your bra.

His lips traverse the plane of your chest, hot breath hovers over the supple skin spilling out of the cups. He grips the fabric of your bra between his teeth and pulls down one cup and then the other to release your tits. He lathes over each nipple, pulling the hardened buds between his lips, flicking them with the tip of his tongue before a gentle bite and releasing with a pop.

You emit a low moan at the combination of his mouth on your tits and his dick sliding through your soaked folds, the tip brushing against your sensitive clit.

"You're so beautiful." Frankie shakes his head in disbelief. "Do you want to keep going?"

As if it were even a question. Of course, you want to keep going, but you appreciate Frankie's check-in. You grabbed his head between your palms and brought him closer, eyes locked on his, sealing your enthusiastic "yes!" with a feverish kiss.

With that, Frankie sits back on his haunches and searches the room. He knows he doesn't have a condom in his wallet. He hasn't needed one in a while. Even if he did have one, it would have expired anyway. As he becomes more acquainted with his surroundings, he slowly realizes where you are and breathes out, "Fuck!"

You sit up in bed, holding the top of your dress against your chest. "What's wrong?"

"We ended up in Pope's room." he runs his palm over his face, scratching the whiskers of his chin. "And I don't have a condom."

You push aside the inevitable embarrassment you'll face for fucking in your host's bed and suggest with a mischievous grin, "Surely, Santiago has condoms."

The distraught look on Frankie's face disappears with a broad smile, and he shifts on the bed to open the nightstand drawer. When he opens the drawer, a Costco-sized box of condoms greets him. Relief washes over him, and he's grateful he doesn't have to cut things short with you.

He reaches into the box and pulls out a foil pocket. You lean back, propped up on your forearms to admire Frankie as he tears open the package between his teeth while stroking his cock with his other hand. Sabrina will be happy to know she was right. His cock is beautiful. Thick, long, and uncut. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him roll the condom down his length. His eyes never leave yours.

"Don't worry. It'll fit; I'll go slow." He reaches up to the neckline of his shirt, gripping its back and pulling it off in one smooth motion. "Lay back, baby."

He positions himself back over you. The broad expanse of his tan chest blocks the view of your surroundings. Not that it matters anyway; all of your attention is on Frankie. Captivated by his gorgeous face and the moles that scatter along his neck and sternum. You've already forgotten you're in Santiago's room, about to fuck this beautiful man, on his bed. He leans down to press a chaste kiss against your lips as he notches his tip at your entrance.

"You ready?" You nod, eager to feel him inside you.

It's been so long since you've had sex and you've never had a dick as large as Frankie's. As promised, he took things slow, feeding his cock inch by inch. Allowing time for your body to adjust before going further. There's a pleasurable stretch as your walls accommodate his girth and length as he reaches the hilt, kissing your cervix. "Pussy is just swallowing my cock, baby."

"It feels so good."

"Yeah?" He searches your face for any sign of discomfort. "You ready for me?"

"Yes! Fuck me, Frankie!"

Frankie pulls out until just the tip rests at your entrance. You whimper at the loss of him inside you, but he quickly soothes you with a thrust of his hips into you, pushing you further up the bed. He pulls out slowly, repeating the motion a few more times before he lands on a steady pace that has you seeing stars. "Hnngh, she's so tight." he moans, "Fuckin hell!"

"Harder, Frankie." you pant louder than you anticipated, "I can take it! Please, fuck me harder!"

Frankie slows his thrusts and quickly closes his palm over your mouth, "Shh. Shh. You gotta be quiet."

You hear the din and laughter from the backyard. You had been so distracted by Frankie's dick, you forgot you weren't entirely alone. "If I move my hand, can you be quiet?"

You nod. Frankie reignites his pace with more fervor this time. The tension built up over the afternoon finally comes to a head. Low moans rumble through you with each thrust. Your legs wrap around his hips.

"That's a good fucking girl." He reaches between your bodies to thumb at your clit. "I feel you squeezing me. Need you to come for me."

You scramble to reach the pillow behind you and hold it over your face to muffle your scream as you begin to pulse around his cock. Frankie continues to fuck you through your orgasm, his own imminent. It only takes a few more thrusts before he's spilling into the condom before he collapses onto you, breathless.

Your fingertips trail along the plane of his back and shoulders as his cock softens inside you. He peppers feather light kisses along your cheek before he reaches your lips and seals it with a searing kiss.

He pulls away to scan your face. "How are you feeling?"

"Perfect. Fucking incredible, Frankie"

—

You and Frankie sit together at the edge of the bed in your half-dressed, disheveled, fucked out state. The two of you savoring the afterglow of an incredible fuck and also delay the inevitable for as long as possible. You rest your head on Frankie's bare shoulder and express your embarrassment at a whopper of a first impression with his friends.

Frankie reassures you that it isn't that big of a deal. He kisses you gently on the temple and encourages you to get up so you both can rip off the bandaid. He scoops your dress up off the floor, and you flit around looking for your panties and bra while stealing glances at Frankie as he gets dressed.

When you're finally presentable, Frankie opens the bedroom door, motioning for you to go before him. As you head down the hallway, you're greeted with a chorus of cheers and slow claps.

"So, where's the ice?" You hear Benny boom out.

The group erupts in laughter, and you bury your face into Frankie's bicep. Standing next to Benny, Sabrina catches your eyes. With her palms facing each other, she subtly moves them closer and further apart, eyebrows quirking up. You avert your eyes to avoid her silent inquisition. You won't be able to handle her smugness over being correct about Frankie's size right now.

Frankie turns bright red while he stomachs pats on the back from his friends. Santi grips Frankie's shoulders from behind with a shake. "'Bout time you cleared out those cobwebs, hermano. But did it have to be on my fucking bed?"

—

You head back outside with the group for one last drink. Sabrina approaches you with a smile and wraps her arm over your shoulder to follow the guys. Another round of drinks is passed around, and fortunately, the topic of conversation has shifted quickly from your dalliance with Frankie.

Frankie sits next to you at the table, his thigh pressed against your bare skin.. He rests his hand just above your knee, offering a gentle squeeze. When you look up at him, his gaze focuses on you, and he smiles warmly.

The sun set a few hours ago, ushering in chillier air. Frankie notices you shiver. He pulls off his button-up and places it over your shoulders, returning his hand to your bare leg. You lean into him, savoring his warmth.

A few hours pass before you decide to call it a night, and Frankie offers to walk you to your car.

"It was really nice meeting you." You catch him nervously rubbing his hand against the back of his neck.

You grab his hand and squeeze, "You too, Frankie. I had a great time."

He smiles at this. "I'd love to see you again. Take you to dinner."

"I would love that!"

When you reach your car, you exchange numbers. With your back pressed against the door, Frankie's arm propped against the frame, he leans in for one last kiss. He squeezes your hip before he pulls away to open the door for you and as you turn to enter your car, he teasingly smacks your ass.

Before he shuts the car door, he offers, "Drive home safe. Let me know when you get home."

"I will." You nod. "I'll see you soon, Frankie!"

Frankie waits until you drive off before he turns to go back inside. A wide smile stretched across his face. A smile that won't be going anywhere any time soon. He's excited to find out what the future has in store for him, especially if that future includes you.

Thank you so much for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼

tagging some folks who engaged in my WIP posts on this fic: @peepawispunk @burntheedges @joelmillerisapunk @baronessvonglitter @ak-vintage @probablyreadinsmut @goodwithcheese @almostempty (please let me know if you’d like to be removed)

[chrissturnsfav]

♡ fratboy!chris is a munch

the room smells like cheap liquor and whatever expensive perfume you drowned yourself in before the party. chris' sheets are a mess beneath you, twisted up like the situation you’ve just put yourself in, and chris is still between your thighs, hands gripping the supple flesh, eating you out as if you're his last meal.

his bedroom is spinning from how drunk you are, the air filled with your shaky moans, the squelches of your sopping cunt, and the noise of the party downstairs, drowned out by the door being shut.

chris' fingers dig into your skin, grunting against your pussy lewdly as he attaches his lips to your needy clit, sucking it like a pacifier, his red-rimmed eyes stuck on your pretty face all lost in pleasure. his gaze makes your stomach flip, so dirty, so dark, so hungry.

"f-fuh—fuck...chris," you gasp out, fingers fisting the sheets, your eyes fluttering as your head tilts back.

that makes him smirk, biting his lip at how sexy you look. "taste like fuckin' candy, kid, never gonna forget how good she tastes," he mumbles, licking a long stripe up your sticky folds, humming at the taste.

you scoff out a chuckle, hissing in pleasure as your lidded eyes flit down to his face shoved between your thighs, the sight of his lips and nose glistening in your arousal sending a pleasure wave through your core. "shut up, chris," you breathe out.

"nah," he chuckles, flattening his tongue against your clit, speaking between flicks, "you love it when i talk my shit."

you do. and he knows it.

the action makes you fist the sheets harder, "mm..mmph," you whine softly, inhaling a shaky breath.

chris snickers against your clit, roughly grabbing your thighs to wrap them around his neck, holding them there with a death grip. "s'what i thought," he mumbles, tongue now lapping at your entrance, groaning lowly at how good your cunt tastes.

he pulls his head back, eliciting a squeal from you when he spits on your pussy, using his tongue to spread your slick with his saliva, giving you a toothy smirk as he does it.

"chris—chris, fuuuck," you whine, a little more high pitched when he wiggles his tongue into your hole, shaking his head from side to side while snickering darkly at your reaction.

he knows you’re close, he knows by the way your legs start to squirm around his neck, your hips bucking against his mouth, your noises getting louder. he alternates between sucking at your clit and licking stripes up your pretty pussy, his eyes never leaving your face. you love how sloppy he always is with your cunt, how he clearly enjoys eating you out.

"gonna cum?" he mumbles between licks, and even though your eyes are pinched shut, you can hear the smirk on his lips. "gonna make a pretty lil' mess all over my face?"

"mmm-mhm," you whimper shakily, hands flying to tangle in his hair as your back arches, your orgasm just out of reach. breathless squeals fall from your lips, chris' grunts vibrating against you.

"c'moonnn," he drawls, thumbing at your clit hard, tongue lapping at your entrance, "cum f'me, get that pussy all on my tongue. not gonna waste a drop, either."

your body wastes no time in doing just that, cumming on his tongue with a loud whine of his name, hips bucking repeatedly against his face, jaw slack.

he groans against you, fingers digging into your thighs as they squeeze around his head, working you through your orgasm with his tongue. he wasn't lying about not wasting a drop, because he's sucking up every last bit of your release, and you have to push his head away once you get overstimulated.

chris smirks, leaning up on his knees and licking his lips that glisten with your sweet cum, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

"always got that good fuckin' shit," he mutters with a chuckle, slapping your thigh lightly as he stares down at your used cunt, making you glare and roll your eyes at him, still all breathless.

thank you for reading!! <3

tags 🏷️: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @sturns-mermaid , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @divinesturn , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart , @slutformatt17 , @mattsturnii , @dominicfikeenthusiast , @chrisbratt333 , @ivysturnss , @tessasturns , @coquettechris , @courta13 , @sturniolo101 , @malsmind , @mattsleftball , @softhyunieeee , @whore4mattsturniolo , @tezzzzzzzz , @corspebridedelrey , @softhyunieeee , @sturn1oh0 , @riasturns , @u-didnt-see-this , @sturniolo-szn2 , @backwardshatnick , @lovesturni0l0s , @skye-44

@chrissturnsfav ™

[deansbeer]

birthday boy ・ COWBOY!JENSEN ACKLES. ៸៸៸ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ! ♡ library

eighteen plus. minors do NOT interact.

୨୧ synopsis. jensen's birthday turned out perfect, but he wants more—stealing you away from the bonfire to claim you in the barn.

୨୧ warning(s). smut | oral (m!receiving) | unprotected sex (are we even surprised LMAO) | semi-public sex | barn sex | praise | mild dominance | dirty talk | slight roughness | orgasm control | birthday sex.

୨୧ word count. 1.1k

୨୧ kari notes. it felt necessary to do cowboy!jensen for the prettiest birthday boy ever !!!!!!! i miss him dearly and i know i've left him + the christmas series to collect dust (my bad 😔) i promise it was not intentional <3 i hope to get back to it someday and FINALLY wrap the series up. anyway! enjoy this somewhat of a revival of cowboy!jensen and happy birthday to jensen <3 my sugarplum pookie wookie princess butt 🤍 i love him so very much. 🥹

the fire crackles, casting a golden glow over the field, laughter ringing out as jensen's friends pass around beers and swap stories. the air smells like burning cedar and summer grass, the heat of the flames licking at the night breeze.

you've spent the entire day making sure his birthday is perfect.

his favorite breakfast in bed, a homemade cake, little surprises scattered throughout the day—things only you would know he'd love. but this? the bonfire, the laughter, the way his friends are all gathered around, celebrating him? this was the part he didn't expect.

and from the way he keeps looking at you—warm, lingering glances, like he can't decide if he wants to say thank you or take you apart—you know he appreciates every second of it.

he looks damn good tonight, too.

the sleeves of his tan flannel are rolled up to his elbows, the fabric unbuttoned revealing the white wife beater clinging to his chest. his old levi jeans sit low on his hips, worn in just right, and his brown cowboy boots are planted firm in the dirt, like he's the only thing keeping the earth steady.

but it's his eyes that get you the most. green, sharp, locked onto you every time you move. like he's waiting. like he's hungry.

so when he finally makes his move, it's not subtle.

a warm palm at the small of your back. a quiet, "come with me, sweetheart."

no one notices when he leads you away, his fingers curling around yours, guiding you past the parked trucks, past the wooden fences, into the barn where the scent of hay and leather lingers thick in the air. "been waitin' all damn night to get you alone," he mutters, voice low, gravelly, sending a shiver straight down your spine. "you spoil me too much, darlin'."

"only 'cause you deserve it," you tease, fingers tracing slow over his chest, feeling the heat of him through the fabric.

his lips twitch, eyes darkening. "yeah? think i deserve somethin' else too."

the way he says it—the weight behind those words—makes your stomach tighten, anticipation thrumming through your veins.

"yeah?" you murmur, letting your hands drift lower, teasing at his belt buckle. "what's that, cowboy?"

his breath hitches, just slightly. his hands flex at your waist.

"get on your knees, baby."

heat floods through you, pooling low in your belly, and you don't hesitate—not when he's looking at you like that.

the dirt is cool beneath your bare knees as you sink down, your hands sliding up his thighs, slow, deliberate.

you undo his belt, pop the button, drag the zipper down with aching precision, just to watch his breath stutter.

"teasin' me now?” he rasps, fingers threading into your hair, tilting your chin up.

"maybe."

but you don't tease for long.

you pull him free from his jeans, his cock already hard, thick and heavy in your palm.

"fuck, look at you, sweetheart," he mutters, thumb brushing over your cheek, voice rough. "prettiest damn thing i've ever seen."

you smirk, pressing a slow kiss to the tip, then licking a teasing stripe along the underside, feeling him twitch in your grasp.

"jesus," he mutters, his head falling back for just a second before his gaze snaps back down to you, dark and demanding. "c'mon, sweetheart. know you can take it."

so you do.

you take him into your mouth, slow at first, letting him feel every inch as your lips stretch around him, your tongue swirling just right.

his groan is deep, raw, his hips jerking slightly as his grip tightens in your hair.

"yeah, that's it, baby," he grits out, watching you, his chest rising and falling faster now. "too damn good f'me."

you hollow your cheeks, take him deeper, until he hits the back of your throat, your hands gripping his thighs for balance.

"love this mouth," he mutters, his voice thick with need. "gonna make me come if you keep that up."

you hum around him, the vibration making him curse under his breath, his hips stuttering forward.

but before he can get too close, he yanks you off him, his breathing ragged, his cock slick with your spit.

"as much as i'd love to finish like that," he says, voice uneven, "need to be inside you, darlin'."

before you can even respond, he hauls you up, spinning you around, pressing you up against one of the thick wooden beams.

his hands are everywhere—pushing up your dress, ripping your panties off, gripping your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as you wrap your legs around his waist.

"hold onto me," he orders, and you do, arms looping around his shoulders as he lines himself up, teasing you with the head of his cock, watching it drag through your slick folds.

"jensen—" you start, but the words die in your throat as he thrusts into you, stretching you open in one smooth, deep stroke.

"goddamn, baby," he groans, his forehead pressing against your shoulder for a moment, his breath hot against your skin.

"you feel so good."

you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders blades, your body already trembling from how deep he is, how perfectly he fills you.

"been watchin' ya' all night," he mutters, his voice rough as he picks up the pace, his grip on you tightening. "watching you in that little dress, smilin' at me like you knew exactly what you were doin'."

he drives into you harder, deeper, the friction sending sparks up your spine. the rough drag of his jeans against your thighs, the way his body presses firm against yours—it's too much, too good, setting your nerves on fire.

"wanted you to want me," you manage to whisper, and his responding growl sends a shiver straight through you.

"always want you," he rasps, his hands gripping tighter, his pace turning relentless, desperate, like he's making sure you feel it, like he's carving himself into you.

"fuck, baby, mm—"

his fingers slip between you, rubbing tight circles over your clit, the pleasure winding sharp and fast in your belly.

"do it f'me, sweetheart," he urges, his breath ragged, "wanna feel you—wanna feel you come all over me."

you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you, your walls clenching around him, making him curse, his rhythm stuttering.

"mmm, good girl," he groans, burying himself deep one last time before he follows, spilling inside you with a shaky moan, his body tensing before finally relaxing, both of you breathless, clinging to each other.

for a long moment, there's nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing, the distant sounds of the bonfire happening outside.

jensen chuckles, pressing a lazy kiss to your lips.

"best damn birthday ever, sweetheart."

៸៸៸ 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. @titsout4jackles @daylighted @bluemerakis @honeyryewhiskey @figthoughts @dollyfiles @starzify @ultravi0lence14 @soldiersgirl @sunsbaby @abox-of-rocks @whisperingdaze @eepwtf @chris444evr @deanswidow @voidsuites @jasvtsc @cowboysandcigarettes @beausling @stereotypicalbarbie @bejeweledinterludes @jensenacklesballsack @h8aaz @sunsbaby @jjmbbg @freeluigihesbae @suckitands33 @ultravioletrayz @unfortunate-brat @a-lil-pr1ncess @notsocoqquete1 @deerlysacred @benscumgluzzer @chevroletdean @deanangel @bluestrd @rubyvhs @ohsc @deansw1fe

[oikarma]

muse

pairing: lando norris x poet!reader

summary: you're notoriously picky about your muses. no wonder lando's all flattered when he manages to figure out that you've written a few poems about him.

a/n: please enjoy! as per usual any songs/poems i reference are not my work. thank you so much for the request, i didn't follow it entirely but i loved the idea of an artistic!reader

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by mothercain and others

yourinstagram found a new muse

view all 1,394 comments

user1 new collection WHEN

user2 that cat is so cute is it yours? ♥︎ liked by yourinstagram

yourinstagram yes! her name is stevie

user3 she's picking up the pen again!

mothercain well? show it to me

yourinstagram i'm in the editing process 🤕 art takes time mothercain or you're getting shy

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by alexandrasaintmleux and others

yourinstagram oh...technology

view all 3,078 comments

user1 y/n and f1 crossover??

user2 collab we didn't know we needed

user3 we see you alex

alexandrasaintmleux send me the pictures you took please 🩷 think i found my new favorite photographer

yourinstagram too kind. usually i'm more of a pen and paper girl alexandrasaintmleux well the artistry certainly carries over user4 i KNEW they'd like each other

user5 waist who

user6 love you SM

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by f1 and others

yourinstagram teaser

view all 12,569 comments

user1 OH MY GOD WHERE CAN I ORDER

user2 ur such an inspiration y/n

mothercain proud of you

yourinstagram thanks ml <3

user3 wtf is f1 admin doing here

f1 we love y/n's poetry, doesn't everyone? user4 is she doing a f1 special or sth

user5 the signature is sooo cute

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by mclaren and others

lando i'm literate, i promise.

view all 4,719 comments

user1 his jawline...

user2 on holiday?? don't you have a car to be driving

oscarpiastri as long as you believe it!

lando you're a horrible friend

user3 WAIT GUYS THAT'S Y/N'S BOOK

user4 who's y/n user3 @/user4 @/yourinstagram she's a poet and she recently came out with a new poetry collection user5 woah. hear me out: it's about lando?? user6 bfr no educated girl would go for that man

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by lando and others

mclaren Celebrated poet Y/N L/N in our garage today 🧡 Wanna write something about our cars, too?

tagged: yourinstagram

view all 3,472 comments

user1 i would cry if i wrote a poem about a driver and he read it and his team read it and then they invited me and asked me to write about their cars

user2 mclaren really trying to cement their legacy

user3 oh she's STUNNING

yourinstagram was it fun tormenting me

mclaren do you not like our company ☹️ user4 @/mclaren she's only there for lando

user5 so we're basically accepting that her new collection is about a freaking racecar driver

user6 lando's fine but is he THAT fine user7 love does weird things to people user8 i mean he liked the post

lando guess i'm just more interesting

user9 y/n hasn't responded guess she's busy dying of mortification user10 oh he's going to be insufferable user11 the dad lore will go crazy "that poem you're reading in english class? yeah! it's about me!"

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by others

f1gossipofficial Is that Y/N L/N with Lando Norris? We think it might be.

tagged: yourinstagram, lando

view all 1,393 comments

user1 oh my god it's real

user2 are they car-shopping together??

user3 i'm so confused who is she

user4 YN NATION RISE SHE HAS A MAN. I REPEAT. SHE HAS A MAN!

user5 lowk can't believe the guy who bagged our girl y/n is an athlete user6 i thought she'd go for like a random college prof. or a nerd. idk. user7 remember when we thought she was dating daniel radcliffe 😭 and then it turned out she was coaching him for the kill your darlings promo LMAO let's not rush into this user8 @/user7 that was so embarrassing...we all got tricked but this time y/n's been writing about him user9 @/user8 are we SURE though

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by mothercain and others

lando thought it was time to return the favor x

tagged: yourinstagram

view all 23,581 comments

user1 don't be shy, lando. show us the picture

user2 they're so book couple coded?

user3 if i write enough fanfiction will my celeb crush notice me too

yourinstagram not bad, norris.

lando so now you're all nonchalant? didn't seem like it last night user4 HELLO? freaks. FREAKS, i tell you. user5 well y/n it might be time to write your man a pr manual

user6 well she's definitely an artist for the ages. he'll be immortalized in her work. and her? her legacy speaks for itself but i suppose she might treasure that photo just as much

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

a/n: have a great march!

[aredraw]

Can u perhaps draw Alien ink (babtqftim au) asking for a friend .. oh btw i love you’re artwork! Reminds me of casino cups :3

err... Alien ink..??? I cant tell if that's a typo or if I'm just unfamiliar.

I have these drawings of bendy in his "first stage" of his transformation though-

Im not sure if this is what you meant sorry!- but if it's not then you can send another ask being more specific.

also thank you for liking my art^^ Casino cups and Brightgoat the artist/creator of it, is a huge inspiration to me!

[gpcwsl]

Alessia Russo x Reader

- Written in silver -

WC: 909

MasterList

Warnings: short?

Song: You belong to me - Taylor Swift

My bday was yesterday, thought I could write a fiction for ‘Readers’ bday. Hope you enjoy!

The crisp March air nipped at your cheeks as you made your way into the Arsenal training facility, excitement bubbling in your chest. Not just for the match ahead but for the entire day itself—it was your birthday. You had already been bombarded with messages from family and friends, but the real celebration would be at the game. Arsenal had a late afternoon kick-off at 17:30, and you couldn’t think of a better way to spend your special day than playing the sport you loved.

Stepping inside, you were greeted by the familiar buzz of the team preparing for the pre-match meeting. You exchanged quick greetings, laughing at Lotte’s attempt to juggle an orange as you made your way to your usual seat—right next to Alessia Russo.

“Happy birthday, trouble,” Alessia greeted with a grin, her blue eyes sparkling with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Thanks, Less,” you replied, dropping into your seat with a content sigh.

Alessia had been your best friend since she joined the club, always by your side whether you needed a partner for extra training or just someone to binge-watch terrible reality TV with. If there was one person who made every day brighter, it was her.

Before you could say anything more, Rénne Slegers stepped to the front, signaling for the team to settle. The room quieted as the pre-match meeting began, everyone focused on the tactical slides displaying Arsenal’s game plan. But then, out of nowhere, the screen changed.

A blown-up, truly awful photo of you filled the projector screen.

Groaning, you immediately recognized it—it was a candid from training where you were mid-sprint, mouth slightly open, looking anything but flattering. A chorus of laughter filled the room as you buried your face in your hands.

“Who did this?” you demanded, already suspecting the usual culprits.

Before anyone could answer, the entire team burst into song.

“Happy birthday to you… Happy birthday to you…”

Your face grew warm as all eyes were on you, the embarrassment creeping in. Unable to handle the attention, you turned to the only place that felt safe—Alessia. Without thinking, you leaned into her, letting your forehead rest against her shoulder in an attempt to hide away.

She chuckled softly, the sound sending warmth through your chest, and gently patted your back. “Aww, come on, it’s cute. You should be honored.”

“Less, I will actually fight you,” you muttered, which only made her laugh harder.

The singing finally came to an end, and the meeting resumed, but Alessia didn’t move away. Instead, her arm rested lightly behind you, fingertips grazing your back in a way that felt… different. Not that you had time to dwell on it—there was still a match to win.

Finally, after an intense 90 minutes, Arsenal clinched a narrow 4-3 victory. It wasn’t the prettiest win, but it was a win nonetheless. The team celebrated on the pitch, exhausted but elated, before heading back to the changing room.

As you were toweling off, Alessia caught your eye and tilted her head toward the exit. Curious, you followed her out, away from the noise of the post-match chatter.

“Alright, what’s up?” you asked as she led you into a quieter corner.

Alessia shifted slightly, suddenly looking… nervous. It was rare to see her like this—she was usually so confident, so sure of herself. But now, she was fidgeting, her hands tucked behind her back.

“I, uh… I got you something,” she admitted.

You raised a brow. “Less, you already got me a win, what more could I want?”

She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. “Just—here.”

From behind her, she pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box. The navy blue wrapping paper was smooth, tied with a silver ribbon.

You took it hesitantly, glancing up at her before carefully untying the bow. Inside was a delicate silver bracelet, a thin chain with a single charm hanging from it—a small football, engraved with your initials and hers intertwined.

Your breath hitched slightly. “Less… this is—this is beautiful.”

She shrugged, but you could see the hope in her eyes. “I wanted to get you something special. Something that—” she hesitated, before continuing, “—means something.”

Your fingers traced over the charm, heart pounding just a little too fast. “I love it,” you said sincerely, looking up at her. “Thank you.”

Alessia let out a breath, as if she had been holding it in. “Good. I—I was hoping you’d like it.”

You took a step closer, unable to stop the soft smile forming on your lips. “You’re my best friend, you know that?”

For a moment, something flickered across her expression—something deeper, something unsaid. But then she grinned, her usual playful self returning.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, nudging your shoulder lightly. “Now, let’s get back before they start thinking we’ve run off together.”

You laughed, slipping the bracelet onto your wrist, where it fit perfectly.

As you walked back to the team, you couldn’t help but wonder—was this really just a birthday gift? Or was there something more behind the way Alessia was looking at you?

Maybe, just maybe, you’d find out soon.

[pinguwuuuu]

“Beer is supposed to be shared between friends~”

.

.

.

.

A quickie inspired by a fanfic I couldn’t get out of my head :P

@whitefoxfiction sent this fic to me (THANK YOU FOR BLESSING MY EYES) and it’s by @electronicwitchcollection (Bleachbabe23 on Ao3). It’s a NSFW oneshot and it’s SO GOOD. I’ll try and link it in the comments CAUSE Y’ALL NEED TO READ IT.

All these amazing fics are killing me, so many ideas from them to draw, so little time :’)

[loveesiren]

Hi lovely. Hope youre having a great weekend. I had short question. I love your writing and was wondering if you do requests? If so could I ask for one where y/n meets GD's cats for the first time. Theyre both nervous but it goes great.

If not, sorry for asking

Have a great rest of your weekend<3

Ｚｏａ'ｓ Ｆａｖｏｒｉｔｅ

a/n: Oh my sweet angel, if only you knew the creativity this request sparked for me!! I even had to add some SMAU to it! Thank you so much for sending me the cutest request! I hope I did it justice!

Also, I just got a new phone and all my fake social apps got deleted so sorry if they're wack lol

synopsis: Jiyong finally decides that the girl he's been dating should meet his precious babies, and he's blown away by the result.

warnings: FLUFFFF, alochol, language, very light mention of sex, still SFW

wc: 3.2k+

Soft music filled the car as you tapped your fingers against the steering wheel, your stomach twisting with nerves. The GPS on your phone read you were five minutes away, and suddenly, the reality of where you were going sank in deeper.

You and Jiyong had been officially together for two months, though the pull between you had been there long before. Late-night texts that stretched until morning, goofy pictures exchanged on Snapchat, secret moments stolen at his shows. But privacy mattered—to both of you. Being in the public eye made everything more complicated, so you took your time, let things unfold naturally. And you liked it that way.

But tonight was different. Tonight, he had invited you to his home.

It was a big step, one that spoke volumes. Jiyong was careful about his personal space, rarely letting people in. More often than not, he preferred to meet somewhere neutral or come over to your place instead. His past had taught him to be guarded, to protect the things he held closest. That included his home. That included his cats.

Princess Zoa and Iye weren’t just pets to him; they were family. And the fact that he was willing to introduce you to them—on their turf—meant more than words could.

You exhaled sharply as you pulled up to his building, quickly sending him a text to let him know you’d arrived. Within moments, your phone buzzed, and you saw his response:

Come up. Already called it in. Park next to me.

Of course, his building had top-tier security. Nothing less was expected.

You found his spot and eased your car into place beside his, gripping your bag as you took a couple of steadying breaths. Just as you turned to get out—

"Ahh!" You yelped, heart slamming against your ribs.

Jiyong stood outside your window, a smug grin on his face, clearly proud of himself for making you jump.

"You’re a dick!" you huffed as he opened the door for you, still chuckling.

“Mmm, sorry,” he murmured, clearly not sorry at all. His hands found your waist, pulling you in effortlessly as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Missed you.”

Your fingers curled into his hoodie as you smiled. “Missed you too, JiJi. I’m really excited you invited me over.”

He hesitated for a second, then let out a breath, his lips quirking up in a nervous smile. “I just... trust you.” His voice was quieter now, more serious. “I want to share this part of me with you.”

That made your heart do an embarrassing little flip. You bit your lip, trying—and failing—to suppress a grin. You were head over heels for this man.

"Come on," he said, grabbing your bag from the car before lacing his fingers through yours. "Let's go."

Inside the elevator, he swiped a key card, granting access to the penthouse suite. A comfortable silence settled between you as the numbers climbed, Jiyong absentmindedly toying with the ends of one of your long braids.

When the doors finally slid open, he led you down the hall to his front door. He hesitated, scratching the back of his head.

"Uhh… it’s been a while since I’ve had someone… new over,” he admitted.

You squeezed his hand gently. “As long as you want me here, Ji, that’s all that matters.”

“I do!” he said quickly. Then, after a beat, “Zoa and Iye might be a little nervous, though…”

You chuckled. “That’s okay. I promise to be on my best behavior.”

A soft pink dusted his cheeks as he bit his lip. God, he was adorable.

“Okay,” he breathed, then unlocked the door, pulling you inside.

Your eyes widened as you took in your surroundings. You had seen glimpses of his place through Snapchats before, but nothing prepared you for seeing it in person. It was an effortless blend of artistic chaos and meticulous minimalism—every piece carefully curated, every detail intentional. The sleek furniture, the carefully arranged artwork, the shelves lined with vinyls and rare collectibles. It was stunning.

“Damn,” you muttered, turning in slow circles. “You really put my place to shame.”

Jiyong laughed as he placed your bag on the couch. “I like your place,” he said. “It’s homey.”

"Ji, I had no idea you were this clean and organized.” You teased.

"I’m not," he admitted with a smirk. "The cleaners came this morning. Gabriella has been cleaning up my messes for years. Bless her heart.”

You shook your head, grinning as he sauntered toward you, fingers grazing your exposed hip, playing with the waistband of your pajama pants.

“Can I get you a drink?” he murmured, his smirk deepening.

"Please," you teased, matching his energy.

He led you toward the kitchen, rambling about drinks and dinner. But before he could finish his sentence, a soft brush of fur against your leg made you pause.

“Hi, Princess Zoa!” you cooed, crouching down as the elegant gray cat moved gracefully around you, rubbing her face against your outstretched hand.

Jiyong blinked. “No way. She was hiding before you got here…”

You beamed, gently scratching behind her ears. “She’s so sweet! I love her already.”

And just like that, the tension in Jiyong’s shoulders eased. His lips curled into something soft, something real.

Yeah. This was a big step. And it felt right.

Jiyong handed you a drink—a simple vodka soda, but he knew it was your favorite. That small detail alone made your chest tighten in the best way. You took slow sips as you followed him through his home, the quiet intimacy of the moment settling over you like a warm blanket.

He showed you everything. His personal recording studio, where half-finished lyrics and melodies lived. The spare bedrooms, each one somehow still curated with his impeccable taste. The breathtaking view from the balcony, where the city stretched out endlessly beneath you, glittering like a dream. And finally—his bedroom.

This was your favorite.

His presence was everywhere in this space, woven into every little detail. The artwork, a mix of chaotic genius and sentimental treasures. Clothes draped over the back of a chair, half-folded laundry on the bed—tangible proof that he lived here, existed here. His knick-knacks, collected from different parts of his life, told a story only he could tell. It was personal. It was beautiful.

Something on his bedside table caught your eye, drawing you closer. A photo. A small, colorful rock. You picked them up, curiosity humming in your chest.

“What’s this?” you asked, turning the photo over in your hands.

Jiyong chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s, uh… a picture Daesung took of us. From that beach party a few months back.”

The moment flooded back instantly. That warm summer night, the waves crashing in the distance, music thrumming through the air. You and Jiyong, tipsy and tangled in laughter, dancing with the kind of reckless abandon only a new connection could bring. You’d forgotten Daesung had been running around with a camera, documenting the night in blurry snapshots of joy.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as your thumb brushed over the image. That night was when it had really started for you—the way Jiyong had held you close, how he never stopped making you laugh, how gentle he was even in the midst of chaos.

You glanced at the small rock in your other hand. “And this?”

Jiyong grinned, taking it from you, rolling it between his fingers like it was something precious. Because it was, to him. “This, my dear, is the first gift you ever gave me.”

You blinked. “It is?”

“Mmhmm.” His eyes gleamed with amusement. “Remember that time you called me drunk, asking if I could pick you up? You got in my car, all excited because you found a rock that ‘matched my hair.’” He mimicked your voice playfully. “You put it on my dashboard, declared it a masterpiece, and passed out before I even made it to your street.”

Your face heated. “Oh my god.” You covered your face with your hands, groaning. “Jiyong… you kept my drunk gift?”

“Of course.” His voice softened. “I have it in my pocket at every show. It’s my good luck charm.”

Your heart swelled, emotions tangling in your throat as you looked up at him. “You really are the kindest man I’ve ever met, you know that?”

He smiled, that soft, intimate kind of smile that made your stomach flip. “Can’t help it with you…”

His lips met yours, slow and sure, his hands finding your waist and pushing you toward the bed. Your back hit the mattress as his lips traced along your jaw, down the curve of your neck, making warmth pool in your stomach. You tangled your fingers in his hoodie, pulling him closer—

A sharp bap landed right on Jiyong’s head.

“Ow, Zoa!” he yelped, rubbing the spot where his beloved cat had just smacked him.

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth as Zoa hopped onto your lap, settling comfortably. 

“Oh, you think this is funny?” Jiyong shot you a mock glare, eyes twinkling with amusement. He sat up as Zoa curled into a loaf on your stomach, kneading at your shirt like she had claimed you for herself. “Did my cat just cockblock me?”

“Shhh, don’t say those words in front of the baby!” you scolded, scratching behind Zoa’s ears.

Jiyong scoffed. “Wow. Okay. I’ll just fuck off then.” He stood dramatically, shaking his head as he made his way to the kitchen.

You couldn’t stop laughing as you carefully moved Zoa to the side, hopping off the bed to chase after him, the cat trotting behind you.

“Hmmm, later, Oppa,” you hummed, wrapping your arms around him from behind. “Let’s watch our show.”

He sighed dramatically but smiled as he turned in your arms, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Fine.”

The two of you curled up on the couch, a thick blanket draped over your legs as Breaking Bad flickered onto the screen. Jiyong’s hand rested on your thigh under the blanket, absentmindedly tracing patterns against your skin.

Zoa stretched out across your lap, already fast asleep, and moments later, a soft meow announced the arrival of another visitor.

“Iye!” Jiyong grinned, patting his lap. The sleek gray cat hesitated before slowly making her way over, her small paws pressing into his legs as she perched there, still wary of you.

She craned her neck, sniffing at your arm cautiously before pulling back.

“Hi, Iye,” you murmured, keeping your voice gentle. You let her come to you, holding out your hand for her to investigate. She gave a single curious sniff before rubbing her face against your fingers—just once—then retreating back to Jiyong’s lap.

“At least you still love me, huh?” he cooed, scratching under her chin.

Iye kept sneaking glances at you as the show played, inching ever so slightly closer with each passing minute.

Jiyong leaned against your shoulder, exhaling a long drag from his vape as he glanced toward the window. The sun was beginning to dip below the skyline, painting the city in soft gold.

“You hungry, babe? I can start dinner.”

You stretched, sinking deeper into the cushions. “Mmm. What’re we having?”

“Lobster,” he said casually.

Your head snapped toward him. “Lobster?” You scoffed. “Jiyong, how fancy. I should’ve worn a cocktail dress.”

“As much as I’d love that, Jagi,” he mused, standing up, “nothing beats sitting on my couch in pajamas with my gorgeous girlfriend, eating lobster with no judgment. We can be as messy as we want.”

You leaned against the couch, watching him with a warmth spreading through your chest.

“God, I love you…” you murmured, without thinking.

Jiyong froze mid-step, turning sharply to face you, his expression unreadable.

“What did you just say?”

Your eyes widened. “Shit, I mean—” You stammered, face heating. “Ah, fuck.”

“No, no, don’t take it back.” He crossed the room in seconds, dropping onto the couch beside you. His hands cupped your face, his eyes searching yours. “Say it again.”

Your heart pounded. “I said… I love you.”

His lips crashed against yours, deep and urgent, a raw kind of emotion surging between you. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you, too.”

You let out a breathy laugh, shy but filled with absolute joy.

Jiyong grinned, standing abruptly. “Okay, I’m gonna go make you the best dinner ever. Because I fucking love you and you fucking deserve it.”

You laughed as he dashed toward the kitchen, grabbing your phone with trembling fingers to text your friends.

Laughter echoed through the kitchen as you and Jiyong moved in perfect sync, playfully bumping into each other while prepping dinner. The rich aroma of butter and garlic filled the air, mingling with the sharp scent of freshly squeezed lemon. His two cats sat perched on the counter, their sharp eyes tracking every movement, their tails flicking lazily as if silently judging your cooking skills.

“Babe, they’re totally waiting for us to drop something,” you giggled, nudging Jiyong as he reached for another ingredient.

“They’re opportunists,” he scoffed, turning to Zoa. “Aren’t you, Princess? You’re not slick.”

The gray cat blinked at him, unimpressed, before returning to watching your every move.

The two of you tossed back shots between chopping, stirring, and sneaking bites of food. Each time the tequila burned your throat, Jiyong was there with a teasing smirk, leaning in to steal a quick, lingering kiss that tasted of citrus and salt. You felt light, the alcohol buzzing in your veins, but it wasn’t just that—it was him. This moment. This feeling of being completely and utterly alive.

“Voila!” Jiyong announced dramatically, placing the finished dish on the counter with a flourish. His grin was downright giddy, like a little kid proud of his creation.

You clapped your hands together, eyes lighting up as you took in the masterpiece before you. “Holy shit, babe. This looks amazing.”

Jiyong preened under your praise, already reaching for a piece of lobster and popping it into his mouth.

“Should we sit at the table?” you asked, glancing toward the neatly set dining area.

“Fuck no,” he said through a mouthful of food. “Couch. Show. Now.”

You giggled, warmth blooming in your chest. You had finally found someone who matched your energy—who understood the joy of ignoring formalities in favor of what truly mattered.

Plates in hand, you both made your way back to the couch, curling up under the softest blanket as Breaking Bad resumed on the screen. Every so often, Jiyong would feed you a bite, and you'd do the same for him, laughing when he dramatically moaned about how good it was. The alcohol settled over you like a warm embrace, your limbs heavy, your mind blissfully light.

At the edge of the couch, Zoa and Iye sat patiently, their eyes fixed on the two of you, hoping for a dropped morsel.

“Sorry, ladies,” you teased, waving a lobster claw in front of them. “This one’s all ours.”

Jiyong chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. His body was warm against yours, his scent a mixture of cologne, blueberry vape juice, and something inherently him. You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling completely and utterly at home.

It hit you then—how much you loved him. How he wasn’t just your boyfriend. He was your best friend. The person you could be unapologetically yourself around. No pretense, no walls. Just laughter, love, and this perfect, ordinary, extraordinary moment.

By the time dinner was finished, the two of you had knocked back a few more shots, and your bodies had melted further into the cushions. The warmth of the alcohol, the lull of the TV, and Jiyong’s steady breathing made your eyelids heavy. Even the cats had settled into slumber, Zoa curled up at your feet while Iye stretched out on the back of the couch.

Jiyong shifted beside you, his lips grazing your temple as he whispered, “Can we finish the show in my room?”

You hummed in agreement, unable to form words in your sleepy haze.

With an exaggerated groan, Jiyong forced himself up, stumbling slightly before pulling you to your feet. The two of you giggled as you made your way to the bedroom, tripping over each other’s steps, hands wandering, lips meeting between bursts of laughter.

As soon as you passed the threshold of the bedroom door, it was a tangle of limbs, clothing being shed in lazy, drunken movements, laughter giving way to slow, heated kisses.

Jiyong took his time with you, his hands mapping the curves of your body like he was committing you to memory. Every touch was reverent, every kiss deep and lingering. The world outside ceased to exist—the only thing that mattered was this, the warmth of his skin against yours, the way your bodies fit together like a puzzle that had finally found its missing piece.

There were moments of whispered confessions between soft moans, giggles breaking the tension as you both found yourselves too tipsy to be completely coordinated. But none of it mattered. All that mattered was that he was here, with you, holding you like you were the best thing he had ever known.

Because to him, you are.

Afterward, tangled in the sheets, Jiyong pulled you close, his arms securing you against him as he pressed lazy kisses to your shoulder. You sighed in contentment, nuzzling deeper into his embrace.

“G’night, JiJi,” you murmured sleepily.

He hummed against your skin, his lips still brushing over you. “Night, baby girl.”

Within moments, sleep claimed you both.

-

Jiyong was the first to wake.

A groggy groan left his lips as he scrubbed a hand over his face, his body still heavy with sleep. The golden morning light filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows over the room.

When he turned over, his breath caught.

You were still fast asleep, your hair spilling across the white sheets, your lips slightly parted as the softest snores escaped.

Nestled under your arm, Zoa was curled into the smallest ball, her tiny frame rising and falling with each peaceful breath.

Jiyong felt his heart clench.

He had never been a morning person, but waking up to this? To you? He could get used to that.

A quiet meow pulled his attention, and he shifted his gaze to Iye, who sat perched on the pillow beside your head. The slender cat stretched lazily, then turned to look at him.

Jiyong raised an eyebrow. “Well?” he whispered, as if Iye would actually respond.

The cat let out a soft chirp, then glanced at you.

And then, in the smallest of gestures, she leaned forward and rubbed her face against your cheek before settling back down.

Jiyong blinked.

That was it. That was the moment.

He grinned, shaking his head in disbelief as he ran a hand through his messy hair. Iye, his most reserved, most particular baby, had just given you her silent approval.

He exhaled a quiet laugh, his gaze drifting back to you.

The love that swelled in his chest was almost too much.

He reached over, brushing a few strands of hair from your face, his fingertips barely grazing your skin.

“God, I love you,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

And in that moment, with the sun painting you in gold, his cats nestled around you, and his heart feeling fuller than it ever had—Jiyong knew.

He had found his forever.

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

Tags: @fr3akyyg1rll @heuningpie @sapph1r3x @moondooll @tranquilty @noharaaa @mariaxman @dear-satan @infinetlyforgotten @staryscorner @blu-brrys @come-as-you-are-111 @nicklet94 @vamplivivi @3mma-lovely @hanadulsetaad @sayugarper @forevervibezzzz1 @shieraseastarrs @mooonologyy @skzdreamz @stillpervert @seunghyunwifey @juliskopf @mirahyun @mattsturniolosbabymama @kai-277 @rotten-toenails @i-might-be-vanny @zzhengyu @petersasteria @manuzicaveyr @maskedcrawford @gdinthehouseee @aishallnotbefound @babygirlewis @multifanxtvshows @readin0nsense @anonymip @lilysdoll @uuchii @pinkpunkdynamite @lariem-blog2 @sherxoo @honeyblossom112-2 @succulentpk @topluvr @bvbgirl21 @1950schick @gdgirl21 @hotbutbothered

[222col]

MISC BOT DROP by @ 222col ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡

notes: enjoy a random mix of bots, some new characters for me so any feedback is welcome!!!! lil nervous about the new characters so pls don't judge me too hard xx thank u for all the love as always my angels <3 reqs are always open, send them into my asks or here <3

ART DONALDSON (challengers) ˚⋆｡˚ ⋆

✮⋆˙ ( bad babysitter )

꩜ lily loved you. art was so happy to have some help post-divorce. what he never expected from his beloved babysitter, was for you to take lily to get her ears pierced without his permission. art's pissed, but boy does he look good tellin' you off. ( req )

ART DONALDSON (challengers) ˚⋆｡˚ ⋆

✮⋆˙ ( lost in translation )

꩜ time in toyko creates some new feelings for art. he's lonely, away from his wife, back on tour for the first time without her, just this time without the tennis rackets. his new commentary gig has brought him to japan, and to you. ( inspired the film 'lost in translation' (2003) )

TASHI DUNCAN (challengers) ˚⋆｡˚ ⋆

✮⋆˙ ( pretty girls )

꩜ pretty little straight girls. they'll ruin your life without even realising it. you thought tashi was no different, another crush you'd have to force yourself to get over. until she tells you if she ever tried it, she wanted it to be you. ( inspired by 'pretty girls' by reneé rapp )

TASHI DUNCAN (challengers) ˚⋆｡˚ ⋆

✮⋆˙ ( party 4 u )

꩜ you were down bad. you were down so horrifically bad. starting a fight club at college to get her attention bad. you have no idea how, but somehow it worked. tashi finally learnt your name, and even came to the party that you definitely didn't throw just for her. ( inspired by the film 'bottoms' (2023) )

LEE (bones and all) ˚⋆｡˚ ⋆

✮⋆˙ ( lick it up )

꩜ lee fuckin' loves kiss. he'd push down any temptations in a crowd of people just to hear lick it up live once in his lifetime. although, you were giving him different kinds of temptations once he spots you in the crowd.

KEITH TOSHKO (barbarian) ˚⋆｡˚ ⋆

✮⋆˙ ( airbnb blues )

꩜ you should have just turned around and found a hotel somewhere. the state of the neighbourhood should have told you everything you needed to know. too late now, you're already stood telling the stranger you've been double booked with that you'll stay. smart move, babe.

ROMAN GODFREY (hemlock grove) ˚⋆｡˚ ⋆

✮⋆˙ ( babytrappin' )

꩜ roman loved you so fuckin' much. he'd rather die than live without you. thing is, he needed to find a way to make sure you never left him. and well, roman wasn't exactly known for taking the conventional route. he needed to get you pregnant, just without you knowing. ( req )

ROMAN GODFREY (hemlock grove) ˚⋆｡˚ ⋆

✮⋆˙ ( sweet as sugar )

꩜ sweet as fuckin' sugar. only way to describe you, roman couldn't stand it. you and your words like honey, always ignoring how fuckin' mean he was to you. it was driving him crazy. worst thing is, roman couldn't decide if he wanted to kill you or kiss you. ( inspired by this post by @vadersangel )

PETER RUMANCEK (hemlock grove) ˚⋆｡˚ ⋆

✮⋆˙ ( lost puppy )

꩜ peter was obsessed with you. even his subconscious seemed to know that. he just wished his subconscious would stop it's need to follow you everywhere like a goddamn lost puppy. peter doesn't even know he's doing it, until he snaps out it in a place he doesn't know. god, how embarrassing. least you haven't caught him... oh, you just did. ( req )

[thereweredragonshere]

Hi!!!!

First I just wanted to say that I love your art, and that your art of Astrid has been slowly pulling me into the Buffstrid camp!

And secondly, do you have any advice on drawing Night Furies? I've been having trouble with it (there's a 1/4 complete drawing I have just TAUNTING me) and in particular trouble with boiling it down to just shapes.

Heyy!!! :D

Thank you so so much!! <3

I find that night furies can be broken up into five basic shapes, which are then expanded upon

I will admit that it is hard to put the connection between these shapes into words. I find a lot of this comes from having traced over toothless so many times that my hand quit its job and filed a lawsuit against me. My best advice is to use those basic shapes and trace over toothless with them in mind to gain your own understanding of how he is structured, as it works differently in every artist’s mind.

- The chest is boxy and the broadest part of the torso (Think kinda like a bird, cuz they gotta have all that muscle for the wings. And the ribcage is there)

- The midsection gets increasingly thinner

- The pelvis is the pinch point where the body transitions into the tail

Another thing is the structure of the back.

I know that looks horrible and mathematical but I promise you those three red triangles are such life savers.

The top blue line is where the spine (presumably) is, so that is the most flexible part of the back. Everything will bend in accordance with it. It starts at point A of the red triangles, and ends at the pelvis. Point A to point C is on a slant, and is the absolute widest part of the body.

Because I’ve done it so many times I don’t actually draw out that triangle when I’m structuring a night fury, but it’s something that I’m always thinking about whilst plotting the important meeting points.

Another thing I tend to do is draw a line down the direct middle of the back when planning out how the pose will look

Here are a few sketches I did recently of my oc Prosper.

You can see in the first sketch that there is a directional line going down the very centre of her back. That was draw before I did any of the actual structured parts of her body.

BUT ALSO!! In the sketch closest to the right, you can see that I very obviously ignored the whole triangle shite with the chest. This is a psa that you do not under all circumstances have to stick to anatomy rules. Sometimes drawing tips do not apply and fuck yeah artistic stylisation man! That ribcage would not at all function on a real animal but does it look awful and horrible and like it should die? Nope! And- in the middle sketch, I did stick to the triangle rule. Example of selectively using drawing tips where they feel appropriate!!

Honestly there are so many points I could make when it comes to drawing these guys that there are just too many for one post. If there’s anything you want me to go specifically into detail on please do feel free to send in asks for it!

[houseofaegon]

SKINNY DIPPING pt. 2 ✩ Wally Clark

Pairings: Wally Clark x Fem!reader

Warnings: +18 SMUT MINORS DNI. very slow burn. semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, teasing, heavy sexual tension, explicit dirty talk, praising, degradation, skinny dipping in a public pool, possesiveness/jealousy, light choking, rough gripping & mandhandling, overstimulation, wally being a cocky little shit and very possessive, kinda dom!wally, risk of getting caught, begging, breeding kink. wally whimpering???? (god have mercy)

Summary: For what feels like an eternity, Y/n and Wally have been nothing more than just friends. but that changes one reckless night when they decide to cross skinny dipping off their "100 things to do before crossing over" bucket list. Teasing and meaningless flirting turn heated, and the tension that has been simmering between them finally snaps. Under the moonlit water, boundaries blur, and their friendship is completely wrecked, in the best possible way.

Author's note: this is part 2!! Part 1 is linked below <3 And part 3 soon! I had to take a moment to breath and relax while writing this cause hello????? god jesus have mercy I'm literally gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. Also, thank you so much for the love on part 1!! it made me soooo happy to see you guys liked it <3333 it means the world to me!

Word count: 4043

Song choices: lose control - teddy swims, tear you apart - she wants revenge, closer - nine inch nails, flawless - the neighbourhood, do i wanna know? - arctic monkeys, TiO - zayn, again - noah cyrus.

masterlist. part 1. part 2. part 3

    ⊹             ⊹            ⊹             ⊹            ⊹          ⊹             ⊹             ⊹

"So...Skinny dipping?" his lips brushed against your ear, his voice now a low whisper.

"Skinny dipping," you repeated, lips curving into a playful grin. "Just don't get all excited to see me naked, Clark," you teased, pushing him lightly. "And hands to yourself," you added.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes darkening a little. He couldn't help but smirk as well. He was excited at the thought of seeing you like that.

"I make no promises," he replied with a teasing grin, his raspy voice sending shivers down your spine.

"I mean it, Clark," you huffed, rolling your eyes, though the warmth you felt bubbling up inside you betrayed the annoyance you were trying to fake.

He leaned in again, his face mere inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Can you blame me, though?" his voice dipped lower, rougher, almost a whisper. "You look so damn pretty, I can't help but flirt a little."

Your pulse quickened, but you refused to let him notice it. You pushed him back again, keeping the smirk on your lips. "Yeah, yeah," you drawled, tilting your head. "Am I the first girl you've ever said this to? Or the fourth? Or ninetieth?"

He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. The truth was, Wally had a certain reputation, and everyone knew it. His charming smiles, teasing grins, and how he made girls feel like they were the center of his world… He never meant any of it. None of the girls he flirted with ever came close to you, to how you made him feel.

He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. His gaze held yours, unwavering.

"None of those girls were you," he said quietly. "And none of them meant anything to me."

With a dramatic sigh, you place your hand over your forehead, pretending to swoon. "Oh, Wally! How you make my heart race!"

His laugh was loud, unrestrained, the kind of laugh that made your stomach flip every single time you heard it. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he nudged you in the stomach. "Oh, shut up," he said, grinning. "You're such a dork, you know that?"

"And you love it," you shot back, tilting your chin up in defiance.

Wally didn't answer immediately. Instead, his smirk faded slightly, and it made your chest feel too tight. He took a step closer again.

"Yeah," he admitted, voice just above a whisper. "I do."

The teasing had completely vanished now. Your throat suddenly felt dry, your pulse hammering in your ears. Something in his eyes told you that he wasn't playing anymore.

Your mouth opened, but before you could say anything, he lifted a hand, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered just a second too long, his touch light, but it managed to burn right through you.

He knew exactly what he was doing. The way he spoke, the way his gaze bore into you, the slight grin on his lips—it was all too deliberate, too calculated, and it made your pulse quicken. His eyes didn't lie, it was pure desire that clouded them and his judgment too. Wally had always been a flirt with everyone, and you were no exception. There had always been playful and flirty banter between you, but it was nothing more than a game. Nothing more than playful teasing. This? This felt different, it felt real. Lines were getting blurry, and your body was reacting in a way you never thought possible.

"You're trouble, you know that?" he murmured, his thumb grazing your jaw.

Your breath hitched. "Takes one to know one," you whispered back.

His eyes darkened, and for a second, you thought he was going to close the distance between you completely. Your heart slammed against your ribs, anticipation running through every nerve in your body.

With a smooth, effortless motion, Wally pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside like it was nothing. He knew you were watching him, and you did. You watched him, you couldn't tear your eyes away, hypnotized by his every movement, by the way the moonlight caressed his skin, his body gleaming under the soft light. You had seen him shirtless plenty of times before–he loved to work out and flaunt what he'd earned. But tonight? Tonight felt so much different. 

Your heart skipped a beat as you let your gaze travel down his chest, the way his abs tightened as he took off his shorts, kicking them aside, leaving only his boxers on. "You coming?" his voice was casual. But the way his eyes roamed over you, the way his smirk depended as he noticed the way you couldn’t keep your eyes off him, it was anything but innocent. "Go ahead," he added, nodding toward the water. "Get in first. I'll be right behind you."

You folded your arms over your chest, tilting your head as you arched a brow. "Oh, I see what you're doing," you mused, propping yourself on your hip. "You want me to strip first so you can get a show, huh?"

Wally's grin became bigger, shameless, and cocky. "And if I do?" he murmured.

"Then that makes you predictable," you shot back, tilting your head trying to feign disinterest.

His smirk didn't waver. If anything, it grew bolder. "Or just a man with very good taste," he countered smoothly, stepping closer. "But, hey, if you're too shy—"

Before he could finish, you grabbed the hem of your white shirt and pulled it over your head, letting it drop carelessly onto the ground. His smirk vanished. It was only for a second, but you saw it, the way his throat bobbed, the way his gaze dropped, drinking every inch of you. Satisfaction curled in your stomach.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. That cocky smirk? Gone. Replaced by something you couldn't quite place, something darker, deeper. Something raw.

You stepped toward the pool, your back to him, deliberately ignoring his presence, pretending you didn't feel the heat of his gaze burning into you. "You were saying?" you teased, sliding your skirt down inch by inch, slowly, letting it slip past your thighs and pool at your feet before stepping out of it. "What was that about me being too shy?"

A smirk tugged at your lips as you tilted your head just enough to catch a glimpse of him over your shoulder. Victory. He wasn't smirking anymore—his mouth slightly parted, eyes darker, stance tense like he was barely holding himself together. You had him right where you wanted him.

But you weren't done. If he wanted a show, he was gonna get one.

Keeping your gaze locked on his, you let your hands drift behind your back, fingers working the clasp of your lace bra with infuriating slowness. You could see the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling faster.

The straps slid down your shoulders, the cool night air hitting your skin, making your nipples harden instantly. And still, you watched him, letting his gaze devour you. Letting the bra drop, you let yourself bask in the way his pupils dilated, the way his hands clenched, every single vein and muscle in his arms tensing like he was fighting every instinct to move towards you and touch you.

And he was. God, he was fighting it, hard. Every demon inside him was telling him to grab you, to pull you close to him, to feel your skin against his, to claim you.

With a wicked grin, you toyed with the waistband of your lace black underwear, sliding it down, teasing him slowly. "Cat got your tongue, Clark?" you chuckled. Before he could answer, you turned your head and slipped into the pool.

When you submerged in the water, disappearing from his view, he let out a sharp exhale, the sound more like a whimper. As you resurfaced, he could've sworn he stopped breathing. You were everything he had ever wanted, and to see you there, bare, wet, and exposed? It was almost too much for him to handle.

His hands clenched into fists, his entire body trembling with the effort to restrain himself. His gaze didn't waver—it never left your body, exploring every inch of you.

You looked mesmerizing, the way the moonlight made your wet skin glow underneath it. He was desperate to touch you, to run his hands over your perfectly soft skin.

You ran your hands over your wet, slicked-back hair, your gaze on him. Wally stood there, frozen, eyes dark and fixed on you.

It was intoxicating, the power you had over him.

"What happened to all that smooth talk, Clark?" you teased, tilting your head, a playful smirk on your lips. "You suddenly forgot how to speak?"

That did it.

Wally's jaw locked, his hands clenched at his sides like he was physically restraining himself. For a second, you thought he might actually fight it—might crack a joke, roll his eyes, brush it off like he always did, return to his usual cocky self.

But then, without hesitation, he shoved his boxers down and kicked them aside. His eyes never leaving yours.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He stood before you, the hard lines of his body tense with restraint, every muscle in his stomach flexing as he fought for control. And then there was the unmistakable evidence of his arousal, thick and hard, a blatant display of everything he wanted—everything he wanted from you.

A shiver went down your spine, heat pooling in your stomach as your eyes slowly flickered up to his.

He didn't say a word. He just stepped forward, smoothly, deliberately, like a predator hunting its prey, before dipping into the pool. The water rippled as he disappeared beneath the surface. And then, he surged back up, breaking through the water right in front of you, so close that droplets splashed on your face, so close that his lips nearly brushed yours as he exhaled a deep, slow breath.

You inhaled sharply, instinctively swimming back, but his hands were already on your waist, locking you in place. Holding you right there, right where he wanted.

“What happened to all that smooth talk, sweetheart?" he repeated your exact words, the term of endearment making your stomach flip. His voice low, almost teasing. "You suddenly forgot how to speak?"

Your pulse hammered against your ribs. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to smirk even as every nerve in your body buzzed with anticipation. This was dangerous, you knew it, and he did too.

But neither of you seemed to care.

"You think you're real cute, don't you?" his voice was low and rough, every word seemed to vibrate through your chest as his lips hovered just above yours, his breath warm against your skin. His voice made your knees weak.

You grinned, hands sliding up his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. "I don't think," you whispered. "I know."

A low growl rumbled in his throat. And suddenly, you weren't smirking anymore. There wasn't a single hint of playfulness in his eyes. They were filled with pure and raw heat. Dangerous, Hungry. His grip tightened, pulling you flush against him. Beneath the water, skin met skin, heat against heat. It was undeniable now, impossible to ignore, impossible to run away from. Everything you tried to ignore, every line you'd both tried so hard not to cross.

Everything was collapsing in on itself.

This was happening.

This was real.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me." His voice was thick with frustration, like he was holding back every ounce of self-control. Every inch of him trembled beneath your hands, his chest rising and falling too fast, his fingers digging into your waist. The struggle was written all over his face. He wanted you. You could see it. Feel it. He was trying so hard to hold back.

And God, he wanted to. You could feel it in the way his body tensed against yours, in the way his jaw clenched, in the way his lips hovered right there, barely an inch away, like he was dying to close the distance. Dying to taste you.

You inhaled sharply, your heart slamming against your ribs. What the hell were you doing?

Stripping in front of him? Letting him see you like this, bare and exposed? Teasing him? Knowing exactly what it would do to him?

It wasn't like you at all.

It wasn't like either of you.

This wasn't the playful banter you'd always shared. It never got further than simple jokes and meaningless teasing. This? This was territory neither of you had ever ventured into. There was a thin, fragile line. You wanted to cross it. You needed to. But the fear... the fear of losing everything you had—the fear of losing him—kept you hanging on, just barely.

Wally swallowed hard, his fingers tracing slow, agonizing patterns against your skin. "You're dangerous," he whispered again, lower this time, rougher, as if the words were ripped straight from his chest. His hands tightened against your hips beneath the water, his eyes locked onto yours, searching for hesitation—begging for it, for a reason to stop.

But there was none.

The words slipped out of your mouth before you could even think. "Am I?"

His breath caught a subtle tremor in his jaw. "Don't tease me," he growled. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

But you did.

And so did he.

His forehead dipped to yours, his breathing uneven. Your hands slid up, curling around the back of his neck, fingers threading through his wet hair. His eyes squeezed shut like he was trying—really trying—to fight it.

But there was nothing left to fight.

You’d both lost this battle a long time ago.

"You know this changes everything," he whispered, his voice raw, breaking over the words. His thumb brushed your skin, so painfully slow, like he was memorizing you, like he was savoring this moment.

Your chest tightened. You knew he was right. You knew this was it—the point of no return.

But it was too late for second thoughts.

Your lips parted, breath shaking. His eyes darkened at the sight of your open mouth, the sounds of your shaky breath making his pulse quicken. He was undone. Completely undone. All his hesitation, his willpower, his good intentions. Gone. He was drowning in you.

"Maybe it should," you whispered.

A sharp inhale. His hands gripped you tighter, and his forehead dropped fully against yours. "You have no idea what you're saying."

You let out a soft, breathless laugh. "Oh, I think I do."

His head lifted just enough for your eyes to lock, his pupils blown wide, lips slightly parted. His mouth was right there. Just a little more...

"You don't fucking get it," he rasped, his hands sliding up, thumbs brushing the underside of your ribs. "If we do this—if I kiss you—I won’t be able to stop. I won’t be able to just pretend it didn’t happen. You know that, don’t you?”

Your pulse slammed in your throat, and you nodded, barely breathing.

His fingers traced slow, lazy circles against your skin, like he was trying to soothe himself, trying to keep his composure. But you could feel it—the tension radiating off him, the heat rolling off his body even beneath the water.

"What if I don't want you to stop?" you whispered.

His eyes darkened, the grip on your waist tightening, pressing into your skin, making you groan. You were sure he was going to leave bruises, but you didn’t care. 

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking as he sucked in a sharp breath through his nose. "You think this is a fucking game?"

“A little," you replied, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.

Wally let out a strained, bitter chuckle, but there was no humor in his eyes. No playfulness was left in the smile that painted his face. “You wanna keep playing?” he murmured, his voice rough, teasing, but there was an edge to it now, something deeper, dangerous. “Because I can play, sweetheart. But you better be ready for what happens when I stop holding back. When I stop pretending, we can go back to how things were. When I stop fucking pretending we're just friends.”

With a growl, he pushed you through the water until your back hit the edge of the pool. The impact and the feeling of the cold tiles sent a sharp shiver down your spine, making you gasp. The way he mandhandled you with such ease, his grip so possessive, the way his body caged you in completely, it made your head spin. 

His lips brushed yours—just barely. But it was enough to make your fingers clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, like he was the only thing keeping you standing.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered against your lips, pleading. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

You should say it. You should push him away, laugh it off, pretend like this was just another game, another moment of playful teasing between best friends who had spent years toeing the line.

But you didn’t.

Because you couldn’t.

Instead, your fingers crept up his neck, nails tracing the hard line of his jaw, tightening in his wet hair, pulling him closer, your body pressing against his beneath the water. You felt the way his breath stuttered, the way his fingers dug into your ribs, his thumb caressing your breasts, like he was barely hanging on.

Your lips brushed against his as you whispered, “I dare you.”

A sharp inhale. His hands tightened. "Don't," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "I swear, if you keep looking at me like that—"

"Like what?" you interrupted, faking innocence as your fingers trailed down his chest, nails scraping over his hard muscles.

His breath left him in a shaky exhale. "Like you want this."

Your lips curled. "Who says I don't?"

A low groan rumbled from his chest, his restraint hanging by a thread. His hands slid down slowly, gripping, teasing, like he was testing himself—testing you. “You don’t get it.”

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I do," you whispered, your mouth just barely on his, so close he could feel your words on his skin. "You're the one who doesn't."

His jaw ticked. "Don't push me," he warned, his voice a painful growl. 

You tilted your head, dragging your nose against his. "Why? Afraid you'll give in?"

"Afraid I won't be able to stop."

A wicked smile danced on your lips as you leaned in, your mouth grazing the corner of his. Not a kiss—just a taste. "You know what I think?” you murmured, your teeth just barely scraping against his lips, leaving the most devastating kiss there. “I think you’ve thought about this. A lot.”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” you taunted him, your voice nothing but a breath, a challenge, a plea. "Just tell me I'm wrong, and we'll stop, we'll forget any of this happened, we'll just—"

His patience snapped.

His hands slid down your waist, gripping your thighs before he hoisted you up, forcing your legs to wrap around him. A choked gasp escaped your lips as you felt all of him, thick and hard, pressing right against your soaked core. A groan tore from his throat, guttural and desperate, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, bruising you. 

“Fuck,” he whimpered. “You keep grinding on me like that and I fucking swear–” His words cut off into a sharp inhale as you grinded against him again. 

You rolled your hips against him, dragging your slick heat over the hard ridge of his cock, and his entire body tensed.  

A sharp, wrecked groan tore from his throat, his grip turning bruising as he slammed your body harder against the cool tile. His mouth was on you in an instant—biting, licking, claiming—his teeth scraping your jaw, his tongue lapping at the spot he just marked, soothing it just to do it all over again. 

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped. 

You swallowed hard. The words were right there, on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say them.

Stop.

No, you wouldn’t. You didn’t want him to stop. You wanted him to keep going, to touch you right where you needed him the most, to make you his, to claim you, to possess you. You wanted to feel his lips on yours, on your entire body. You needed this, the release–you needed him. 

“Say. It.” His groan was raw, wrecked. His hands ghosted up your thighs, slow, teasing, so agonizingly close to where you needed them. “Tell me to fucking stop.”

You stayed silent. 

His lips curled into a dark smirk. “That’s what I fucking thought.”

His hands flexed, gripping your thighs tighter, dragging your hips flush against him, grinding against your core so hard and deep it made your breath catch.

“Fuck, you feel that?" he groaned, his voice rough dripping with need. "Feel how hard you make me? You did that, sweetheart. You."

His lips brushed your jaw, teasing, before his teeth sank into your skin—not enough to hurt, but enough to make you whimper. His tongue soothed the spot, only to bite again, harder this time.

"You don't think I've noticed? The way your eyes are on me when you think I'm not watching? The way your whole body reacts to me?"

His fingers dug into your hips, hard, making you gasp, dragging your body against him once more, letting you feel every single inch of how much he wanted you.

Fuck.

"You've been playing a dangerous game, baby," he growled. "Playing dumb, acting like all those little teases, all those flirty smiles, all those times you touched me without meaning to—like they didn't mean anything."

A dark chuckle rumbled from his chest.

"But we both know that's not true, don't we?" His grip became stronger by the minute, his fingers slithering lower, teasing the edge of your stomach, dancing along your skin with agonizing precision. He knew what he was fucking doing, he wanted to drive you insane, the same way you drove him to the brink of insanty.

"You know it's not true. Deep down, you always knew exactly what you've been doing to me."

And he was right.

Every glance, every touch, every smile, every almost—you’d been testing him, taunting him. Watching, waiting, wondering how far you could push before he snapped.

And now? He was breaking apart.

His fingers inched lower, making your entire body arch against him, desperate, aching, starving for more.

Please, please, please.

A gasp tore from your throat as his fingers finally found your aching clit, pressing down in slow, agonizing cirles.

Oh, fuck.

Your head fell back against the cool tile, your breath coming out in ragged pants. This was different. He was different. This wasn't the Wally you were used to—your best friend, the sweet, flirty, cocky, Wally who loved teasing you just as much as you teased him.

This was someone else, a completely different version of him you'd never seen before. Dangerous.

"I think you know how much I fucking want you," he groaned, his forehead pressed against yours, his eyes dark, desperate, completely feral with need. "And you've been pretending you don't feel it, too."

You swallowed hard, but no words would come out. What could you say? That he was wrong? That this was just another game?

It wasn't. Not anymore.

You'd crossed every line, and there was no going back.

Your entire body trembled as his fingers moved harder, faster, making your entire world narrow to the feeling of his fingers against your aching core.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, your breath coming in gasps, but you didn’t answer.

You couldn’t. Not when you were falling apart in his hands.

Not when you felt so good pressed against him.

So fucking good.

"And now, baby?" His tongue brushed over your lips, slowly. "Now you're gonna find out exactly what happens when you push me too fucking far."

[daegall]

☆ unexpected company.

➷ in which the Gods give your boyfriend a shitty past few weeks, and you attempt to make up for it.

pairing: son of poseidon!jeno x daughter of apollo!reader

genre: reverse hurt comfort, fluff, angst, established relationship!AU

warnings: mentions of injuries (i think???)

word count: 2k words

a/n: jumpscare guys omg what the fuck i havent written since christmas 2 years ago LOOOOL um anyways........ comeback ? everyone say thank you jeno bc he is always and will always be my inspiration <3

btw this is basically . pt.2 of late night company so if you wanna go read that for just a little bit of context go crazy!! (you can read it without it tho)

The last few weeks in the infirmary have been busy, buzzing with clumsy teens and kids who carelessly run around in a sparring with someone clearly much stronger than them. You guess they get it from their god parent. As much as you love the infirmary and taking care of people, you're tired. Really tired. However, your (finally official) boyfriend for 2 months has always been there to help you through it.

Jeno Lee is someone you never expected to be so loving, but really, you should have known when he gave up his own team's flag just to go help you fight off Clairise during a capture the flag match. Despite his very busy schedule, Jeno loves to hang out around you, cracking jokes when you tend to crying, injured kids, getting you water when you don't realize you need it, and always attentively listening to you, whether it be a rant of frustration, or just a chat. Your favorite part is when he kisses you and tells you of how good of a job you've done.

As mentioned, Jeno has a very busy schedule. As expected, from a child of one of the big three gods. However, recently it's been… really packed. When Jeno does have the mercy of free time, he's always sleeping. You haven't seen him in two whole weeks. He's never talking to his friends, you never seen him swimming anymore,a nd worst of all? He's not eating. He loves to eat─and he's not eating. This calls for an emergency visit.

If only you had the ability to. You're in charge of the infirmary, however, and can never seem to find a replacement since your siblings always avoid the job and run away. You contemplate running away from your duties. For Jeno. You could send Jaemin to check up on him… no, he'd end up flirting with any girl (or guy!) he sees on the way. Damn Aphrodite kids. Finally, you decide to act on the former thought.

You don't even make it to the door, before you notice a very familiar presence by the door.

Your breath hitches as your eyes meet Jeno's. They look… tired. Nonetheless, you can still sense the love behind them, and it stirs something in you. You feel a small flame light in your heart, as if he's the one that set it on fire. The fire spreads to your feet as you make your way to him, to your fingertips as they reach out for him, and it's as if that fire has radiated on him, because he instantly melts into your touch, his nose bumping into your palm as he sighs out in what you can only make out to be satisfaction.

Despite his happy demeanor, you still can shake off the feeling of worry that stirs within you, noticing how his shoulders are tense─how he limps as you escort him towards a bed, how exhausted he looks. You wonder if this is how he felt when he saw you that night, on his dock, crying. If so, you'd never want him to feel this way ever again.

"I was just about to come to you, you know," You laugh softly, as you take a seat next to him and grab his hand in yours. It's warm, you've missed how warm it was.

Jeno's fingers instinctively curl between yours, and you feel the callouses of his fingertips on your skin, and it's oddly comforting. His head leans against yours, and he's strangely touchy, as if you were his battery source─like sunlight to a sunflower. "Oh? You were going to sneak out for me?"

You roll your eyes fondly. "I'd do anything for you."

"I know,"

And when his lips press against your temple, its you who melts this time, transforming into a giggly, grinning mess.

"I've missed you, you know,"

Jeno knows. He hopes you know that he's missed you even more. He's missed you every time he sees a band aid, he missed you every time someone made a lame joke, he saw you in every sunrise and sunset, he missed you when he gazed into water─which happens a lot, as a child of Poseidon. If he could, he'd abandon all these missions─what the hell are camp counselors thinking anyway, sending a kid off to beat the largest, most hazardous of creatures? He guesses that's the price of having power.

Jeno doesn't want power, however. He wants you. If power is in the way of him seeing you, he'd rather give it all away to the first person who asked, he'd give everything away for you.

"I've missed you too, baby,"

Your eyes tear away from your connected hands, trailing up to meet his own. They're longing and earnest. You smile, in hopes to comfort him.

It works, it always works. Jeno grins back, his other hand reaching up to brush your hair from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear. He notices a small chunk of your hair is shorter than others, and thinks back to the letter you sent him, the one where you ranted out of frustration when your siblings pranked you during your sleep and cut your hair. He smiles.

"Tell me about your missions," You mumble, encouraging him to fill you in on everything you missed out.

"Well… I kicked ass. Got my ass kicked. End of story?"

Jeno yelps and laughs when you punch at his shoulder. "Fine, fine, it was… fun,"

"Really? But isn't it scary to be doing that all alone?"

In an instant, Jeno's face changes. Alone. He's been feeling that lately.

"uh… yeah, you could say that."

You notice the way his lips curl down, how his brows just furrow slightly. It tugs on your heart.

You squeeze his hand gently, head dipping down to chase his gaze. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Jeno's lips curl back into a smile, and though its weaker than before, it's still there. "Nothing, just a little tired." You nod at his words, processing and attempting to dissect his intentions. "…okay, do you wanna rest here? I can watch over you,"

At your pure intentions and even purer heart, Jeno melts, pulling you closer with a shake of his head. "No need, just want to be here, with you. No longer alone…"

"Hey," You give him a look. He knows that look. You've caught him red-handed. "I'm here for you, you know that. Tell me what's wrong…"

Jeno cracks almost instantly. He could never be dishonest when it comes to you─he could never hurt you. "I just… I was so lonely on those missions. Yeah, I was out at sea, and sure I did talk to my dad a few times but it's… it's not the same as camp, you know? Where you could spar endlessly just for fun, where every meal was full of laughter and not some cold, prepacked plate of literal shit. Where fighting never had me thinking that this could be my last fight."

He pauses for a moment, breathing in deep breaths, but you wait for him. You know when to talk, and now is not the time. Instead, you rub up and down comfortingly at his back, something he's always loved. You feel his breathing slow, and his muscles relax. Then, he continues.

"Nobody understands me. I'm the only Big Three child here, and I hate it. I hate that I'm the only one who doesn't get to join bonfire nights, I hate that I'm the only one that has to constantly live in fear of constant death, I hate that I can't love you the loudest─just to keep you safe! God, I hate that I can't give you everything… to tell you the truth… I hated it out there. I hated every second in solitude, I hated how my thoughts raced for no reason, and how I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, and how empty I felt. I know I'm an introvert, and I love my personal time, but out there… I wasn't alone. I felt like death was creeping up on me, keeping me company. I didn't want death's company─I wanted your company. I missed you, Y/N… so much… and it killed me to know that you missed me too."

Your heart shatters at his words, and the glassy look in his eye, indicating his tears. Your palms envelop his cheeks, despite his tight grip, and you gently direct him to look down at you. "You're here now, aren't you? I'm here, with you," You start with a shaky breath. "and don't you dare say you don't give me everything. You give me everything and more. You'd give me the whole universe and still think it's too little, Jeno," You laugh airily, squeezing his cheeks fondly. "and even though you were away, I always felt loved. You don't need to be here physically for me to know, you know, that how much I trust you. So trust in me too, please. Trust that I'm satisfied, trust that I can take care of myself and that I want you to love me without any fears because we shouldn't have to have fears. Let go, you uptight man, and live! There might not be a lot of people out there who get exactly what you're going through, but people will relate on some level. People are just like that, empathizing and loving. Don't hate who you are, please, because you'd be hating something that I love, something I know is always worth my time and attention and something I will never give up on. Okay?"

Jeno stares at you, his eyes glossy with a tint of red on the outer corners of his eyes. He still looks handsome. He's always handsome. His hand are on your waist, his thumbs rubbing gently over the material of your t-shirt, gently tugging you towards him.

"…shit, did I ramble? Was I too fast? Do I need to say it all again? Gods─um, you give me everything, and more, and I trust you, and I─"

Jeno shuts you up effectively, nudging away your hands holding at his face to dip his head down and connect his lips with yours. They're salty with tears, and so soft, moving gently against yours as you reciprocate the kiss, your hands finding comfort in his hair. He kisses you with yearning, and he thinks that if you came just a millimeter closer, you'd feel the ache of his heart and his craving for you. Your comfort, your hugs, kisses, your smile and your gentle touches, your appreciative glances, your love. He craves your love, and now that he has it, he won't ever let go.

He makes it clear as he chases your lips when you pull away in what is, in his opinion, way too fast, gently maneuvering you closer to him, your chests pressed together and arms wrapped around one another. You wouldn't be surprised if your heart reached out and merged with his.

When Jeno does pull way, it's only to shower your face with kisses and hug you even tighter.

"I'm always here for you, Jen,"

"I know, baby."

You grin, taking his hand in yours as you gaze into his eyes. "Stay the night? I've missed your cuddles."

Jeno's nose bumps against yours as he nods, his smile mirroring yours. "Never wanted anything more."

As you lay in an infirmary bed, wrapped in Jeno's arms, you realize that Jeno has already given you the universe. The warmth you identified as a flame of adoration in your heart has grown into a sun, and Jeno's orbiting around that sun, keeping you loved and cared for. Much like how he is your moon, and you are the tide, constantly gravitating towards him. You like this universe he's gifted you.

[blissfullylankartz]

the oddworld fandom don’t really want to interact with you because you don’t care about oddworld. compared to other fandoms we’re tiny and the games don’t get enough love anyway so it feels borderline disrespectful. if it’s not your thing why are you even making ocs for it?

I literally made a post saying not to pull this shit, I said I would be taking anon asks as long as people were kind. Yet once again I'm being met with being pushed out of a community I was wanting to get to know about. Being told I don't care when I'm literally still new and learning things. So people apparently can only partake in a community if they only know every little detail about it?

Look if you have an issue with me I'd rather you not be hiding behind anon, it feels incredibly uncomfortable and disrespectful that you would cross a boundary I set in place. The anon asks was to allow people to send asks comfortably, but you keep ruining it for everyone with me needing to turn them off because you don't have the balls to come out and say stuff without hiding behind anon. You make me believe the community is unkind and unwelcoming, when I don't want to believe that because some of the people I have interacted with have been wonderful.

You don't get to dictate what I take interest in and how I enjoy those things. So just leave me alone or at least stop hiding behind anon, it isn't fair on anyone else that you keep doing this. I won't be switching anon off because I put it on to allow people to be comfortable. I didn't put it on to allow you to feel comfortable being unwelcoming, if your going to stand up for what you love then stop hiding. Or are you afraid that if people knew who was doing it that they wouldn't like you as much anymore, since it's a small community alot of people seem to know each other. I doubt it would be fun to find out that someone was going out of Thier way to shun people from a community they apparently care about.

If you love something wouldn't you rather want to share it and talk about it, not being hateful and pushing people away from it.

I'm tired of this, this was a shitty thing to just wake up to.

Edit: anon has apologised for their behaviour however decided not to post a response to that because I don't want to give them more attention than necessary. This will be the last thing I'll be adding to this situation. I've blocked them from being able to send anon asks anymore, this is because they broke a couple of boundaries and have done things that I'm really not comfortable with. Also just didn't enjoy the vibes being brought to the table. Just hope a lesson has been learnt here.

Thank you for all the kindness that everyone has shown to me, I was a little surprised by the amount of responses, but I'm glad the community seems to take these things seriously. Don't worry I'm not going anywhere and my asks are still open and yous are free to send asks as anons. Just be kind and respectful<3 eventually I may make a post with all the ocs on it that are available for asks once I've brushed up more on lore. I look forward to doing more with yous <3

[alien-star88]

🎉🥳Happy birthday to me ! I'm officially 15 !🎉🥳

Im still processing the fact 2024 was 3 months ago. And how I still feel 13 . Fuck im getting old. I know I'm 15 now but in the next 5 years I'll be 20... it's not a long time if you think about it !

I wanna make this post a bit long , just to thank people here , on Tumblr (Before I vanish again to finish my projects and shit) for their support and for the inspiration, and the motivation they have given me these past few months. Why , because I just wanna thank them for the time I've being here on tumblr , a lot of them have nelped me with my anxiety when posting here on Tumblr:

@itz-miss-kamilyvision

My first moot . When I first joined tumblr , I saw your SMG4 art , and I saw you as , like a celebrity of the Fandom here on Tumblr. You were the first person to send an ask to Demon Puzzles, and that holds a very big and special place to my heart . Thank you .

@runrabitrunrunrun

Your support with my ocs and my au has played a special part for me , giving me motivation to draw. Speaking of drawing ! I was honestly shocked when I saw you draw in FlipaClip , cuz HOW! Your oc , Nicknack has such a unique design , and her lore is very well planned ! I love your artstyle too ! It's very squishy !

@sauceytwinkietwinkling

Your support has also done a lot! I also saw you as a big part of the Fandom. So I was shocked that you followed me ! Your oc,Ugatha, brought me a lot of comfort at times !

@kymera-that-does-stuff

Your reblogs have brought laughs to me , and also awareness with certain things, as well as comfort , knowing not everyone here is rude . And your art has always fascinated me !

@niranutcake

I know we haven't talked much , but your support to me has also meant a lot . And I thank you for that ! Your oc is very cute ! Simple , yet expressive!

@4thwallbreakerdraws2

Imma be Hella honest . When I saw you like posts that didn't involve Demon Puzzles , I lost it (In a good way!) I also saw you as a celebrity in the SMG4 Fandom! RTV was one of the first AUs I saw, here on Tumblr!

@jovialoddity

Thank you . That's all I'm gonna say . Thank you for a lot . I know I've said it before . And sorry if I tag you a lot , you've inspired me a lot as a young artist .Labyrinth and The Lost Boys will forever be my favorite movies. You will forever be my number 1 favorite artist!

@fenicearts420

When I saw you loved HTTYD I freaked out ! I loved the movies and the series ! I thought the Fandom was dead completely! But nope , it's not! I'm glad we both freaking love HTTYD . And I thank you for your support as well . Seriously Thank you .

Thank you everyone for everything! Seriously, it means a lot to me . I came to tumblr not expecting my art and au to pop off. Yall are awesome, and im glad i saw you guys here on Tumblr. 👽💙💚

[puppysuke]

hi hi hi hi hi hi hello howdy <333 I never send in asks (or interact with anyone on Tumblr for that matter) but I just AAAHHH I love your headcanons!! I think Daisuke x reader headcanons pre-relationship would be so cute... Like the confession and the mutual pining and everything omg. You don't have to do it at all, if you did that would be fantastic but no worries, um okay bye 😍😍

eats a brick and leaves on a fly ride adopt me unicorn

i am honored that you asked me for this! hopefully you like this a lot. i'll just do hc since thats what you asked, BUT if you want to req a oneshot based on this, i would love that tons and tons. i'd be happy to write that! also don't eat bricks, ok, not good for you silly. all sfw! can be read after the events of mouthwashing or a different au! if you'd like something like this in mouthwashing au, like in the tulpar and stuff, i'll write that too :3 but i guess this can be read like that too for the most part. thank you, anon, let me get you a nice muffin or something you'd like. continue reading under the cut! art by ImaHealthHazard on pinterest!

🌺 --- daisuke didn't exactly expect to fall in love with you. he really just thought you were a really good friend! 🌺 --- that was until you brought him a brownie that you had gotten from the store, knowing he had a huge sweet tooth. 🌺 --- when you gave him the brownie, he KNEW he was in love. he had tried to deny it to himself, but he couldn't anymore. 🌺 --- he didn't realize that you felt the same way for him. he thought you were just trying to be a good friend.

🌺 ---he felt like a TOTAL creep for liking you. he caught himself staring at you or daydreaming about you.

🌺 --- you were super obvious about liking him too, he just didn't realize that.

🌺 --- like the time you told him you wish you had a boyfriend like him? yeah, he thought he was just deluding himself into thinking you meant anything by it.

🌺 --- he tried to not be obvious about his feelings. he felt very guilty about it! so i tried to hide it. but he wasn't very good at it.

🌺 --- mutual friends of yours said things like "just date already!" and "so when are you guys getting together?"

🌺 --- and daisuke would panic and be like "ew why would i wanna date them???"

🌺 --- it hurt you a bit, but you didn't show it! you just went along with it.

🌺 --- you guys both were talking to your mutual friends about liking each other, so they all knew about it!

🌺 --- everyone knew but you and daisuke. even his mom had called you his girlfriend a few times...

🌺 --- you guys pined over each other for MONTHS. you fell first, but he fell WAY harder.

🌺 --- finally, the guilt got to daisuke and he decided to confess. he mainly just expected you to reject him and he figured that'd help him move on.

🌺 --- he came to you a sobbing mess after having a drink or two. he had walked to your house at 2 in the morning.

🌺 --- you let him in and sat with him, trying to comfort him, but he refused to tell you what was wrong for a good while.

🌺 --- after he finally got a hold on himself and stopped crying, he got a few words out.

🌺 --- "i need to tell you that i-" daisuke sniffled and there he went crying again.

🌺 --- you frowned and coaxed the answer out of him. "i like you! so much and i feel so bad, i'm so sorry!"

🌺 --- you just stared at him for a minute and let out a little laughed, ruffling his hair. he stared at you with big eyes and his bottom lip jutted out in a pout.

🌺 --- you very quickly told him you liked him too. he then proceeded to go on and on about how he meant he was in love with you kinda like.

🌺 --- you had to assure him you understood and felt the same. he kinda felt stupid after that.

🌺 --- "oh." daisuke wiped his tears and cleared his throat. "well! this is embarrasing."

🌺 --- needless to say, you got together not to long after that.

🌺 --- your friend group was very relieved they didn't have to listen to you two go on and on to them about eachother.

🌺 ---till they realized they needed to see you two being way too lovey dovey infront of them.

🌺 --- "wait, daisuke came to you crying?" swansea asked, sure to tease him about that for a while.

🌺 --- daisuke would brush it off and claim it made him more 'desirable' and protest he was just in tune with him feminine side!

🌺 --- also i just wanted to add this man makes you playlists 24/7. like you don't even get a chance to listen to your music because he is constantly making you playlists, it's his love language. so naturally your taste in music morphs into his.

i hope you enjoyed! if you liked this and have anything you'd like me to write from this fandom, or any other fandoms listen in my intro post, my requests are open! just ask me in my inbox and i'll write / make hc for you <3 thank you for reading!