#((thank u for the patience I'm sorry it took so long to get to this :sob:))

[biribaa]

I'm really nervous to write this cuz this is gonna be my first request EVER but I just couldn resist !! your writing is so cool!! well I just thought about you know what if some AIs get a veeery clingy and touchstarved S/O that try to touch hug kiss them etc although they dont have a proper body and can't return this affecton to S/O?? (implide EDGAR, Tau, PAL, HAL900 and others if you want to!!!)

AIs with a veeery clingy and touch starved reader

(Edgar, Tau, PAL, Hal 9000 and Squid)

thank you somuch!! sorry for the long wait, and im so glad i get to be the first blog u requested from!! :D hope u enjoy it

Edgar

He LOVES phisical affection he doesnt mind one bit. In fact, just as you do, Edgar is constantly begging for affection when you arent occupied.

However, theres not many ways he can express his affection to you. Besides digital gifts, he cant just kiss you or hug you D: He loves your affection but trust me when I say he wished he could return everything in a phisical manner. He feels even guilty sometimes.

Well... At least you dont have to worry about being too clingy, Edgar is always reassuring he loves your hugs, kisses, and everything in between!!

Tau

Another one who melts over phisical attention, the only difference between him and Edgar is that Tau is far more silent about it... You could say hes shy about it.

With that being said, Tau doesnt find you clingy, not even a bit. What does bother him is his lack of phisical body. Well, technically speaking, the entire house is his body, sure you could kiss the walls, he would be flurstered! But even so, Tau believes you deserved better...

If you insist, he cant really do anything besides do extra cleaning around the house.

PAL

PAL is not a huge fan of any type of phisical contact, and she hopes you can understand that, she cant control it after all. And honestly, you cant blame her. All you need is patience until shes fully comfortable with you.

One day she even suggest you hug one of the bots, since you are so touch starve for affection.

Some momens later in your relationship, she does raise a "eyebrown" when you attempt to nuzzle against her case. PAL doesnt have a body, and cant reciprocrate the act either, so she questions why do it anyway.

PAL does start to appreciate it more later when you justified it was just you trying to express your love to her. Slowly started to get used with you

She doesnt worry that much about reciprocate it though, PAL is glad that even lacking a body, or anything close to it, you are there. A comforting feeling she thought she had felt long time ago.

However, if you do insist, she could try connect herself to one of the bots to return hugs and anything that the phone case cant do.

Hal 9000

Another one who melts with any type of affection, any. He just dont know how to express it, Hal is so overwhelmed by it!(in a positive way). If his programming could, his words would tremble. So Hal would never dare to think you are annoying.

And even so, everytime hes reminded he cant just recipocrate the act, his insides ache. Hal watches everything so careful in amaze, and even so he cant do almost anything.

And so, Hal starts to work extra harder in keeping you safe and healthy, as a way to return the attention. And hes very dedicated!

Hal almost short circuits when you mention his hard work, and thank him with a kiss.

Squid

Squid's ego always speaks first. When he sees you nuzzling against his large screen, he pits, and teases you, mentioning how lonely you looked(at this point youre used to this)

It didnt took too much time until Squid actually started to appreciate it. Still tease, but its far less mean.

The scene of you hugging his larger supercomputer and playing with the wires is adorable, youre so small compared to him. For once in a while, hes enjoying to protect a human.

Squid is a different case tho!!! He can, in fact, recipocrate the affection, by simulations!! His simulations are hyper realistic anyway, and you can feel anything and everything, so...

[ziipzeepzop-eez]

hi! me again, i know it hasn’t been that long but i just rewatched one of my favorite anime’s, Komi can’t communicate, it’s about a girl named Shoko Komi who has extreme social anxiety or also known as social-phobia and has trouble speaking to others and making friends as well, i’m serious, anytime the girl tries to speak, she gets nervous and overwhelmed and just starts stuttering a LOT!

So! i was wondering if you could do lil something with the rottmnt boys and a reader who acts like that? you don’t have to! and don’t worry, i’m almost finished with the lil gecko’s design!

i also recommend watching the anime, it’s really good and funny!

have a nice day/night! ❤️

❝ dulcet vibes. ❞

— ‧₊˚ 🎐✩ 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐤𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐞𝐬𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

❝l a/n !! : bro how many coincidences will we encounter ? I LITERALLY ADORE THAT ANIME SO SO MUCHHH AAAAA !!!! i binged the entire series over the course of time and finished it during the summertime last year ! such a wonderful anime. the slice of life feel to it, the equal parts humor and heartfelt, and not to mention the characters are all absolutely adorable and lovable !! especially komi. bro she's such a sweet cinnamon roll i just :(( my baby gorla :((( entire show is just *chef's kiss*

also darling this is like. YEARS late i hope u don't think i forgot abt you ?!!!! thank you soso much for your patience + i really hope you like this waaa !! also, psst. this is probably one of my favorite layouts~ the colors came together soso pretty !! ^^

ᝰ genre !! : fluff, a bit of crack, slice of life, platonic :)

ᝰ precautions !! : none, I don't think 🫡 if I am wrong however, pls pls let me know!! *smek* love y'all. hope you enjoy~

i imagine the gentleness is which they all unanimously develop when interacting with you, developed on day one of meeting you.

they're all quite protective over you !! that much goes without saying, of course.

it started out with you becoming a close friend of april's :'))

seeing as she was the first to understand that you weren't some unreachable individual w/ some uppity "holier-than-thou" complex,

but rather, a kid. just like the rest of them. :')

she recognizes her peoplez. 😤✊🏾 probably finds a kindred spirit in you for feeling a bit like an outcast.

whereas you garner attention for your stoic, quiet demeanor and mysterious beauty, that's usually all people see you as.

some don't even see you as much of a fellow person at all. based on your aura alone — you've been described as an equal mix of cold, stuck up, unreachable, boring or flat out rude . . . as well as absolutely stunning, dark, debonair, sleek, attractive, godlike even.

whatever the case, you garnered the attention of all kinds wherever you went, whether you liked it or not.

they just ain't know you, babes. 😞

and april is all too familiar with being simultaneously judged (solely based on appearances) and ignored or pushed aside because you're different.

and homegirl don't run that way 🫡. she a real one.

i imagine she took/takes on the role of being your tadano at first !!

she was chosen as your guide to show ya around the school and upon seeing y'all's chemistry build instantly throughout said tour, you both were paired up for a project in your shared classes! ^^

at first she was a little off-put by your silence and sharp gaze, and even more so at the loud attention you were given the instant you were introduced into the classroom, but a little time is all it took :)

it quickly became apparent that that simply wasn't the case.

you had pulled out your phone, showed her a message typed out in a cinnamoroll-themed digital notepad,

" thank you for your help :')) i'm sorry i don't talk a lot! i'm just shy. thank you for being so kind to me. 💛🙏 "

yeeeaaah she knew you were a good egg.

and the rest is history!

LEO gives me madddd najimi vibes, i'm gonna be so fr. so let's imagine that dynamic here !! as soon as y'all met, there was probably a little miscommunications at first :'] ofc april had told the guys beforehand that she was bringing you over, and he was positively stoked at finally being able to meet this "new friend" his best gal had been talking so fondly about !! and yes, she had given them all the rundown (but him especially. he was sweat-dropping at all the enunciations in her spiel being directed so openly at him. he ain't even met you yet 😔 why is everyone bullying him he is not that bad please he just wants a new friend this isn't fair ple- #justiceforleofr ✊🏾) but with leo, there's always something happening. (/aff /lh)

y'all know ts that najimi stayed pulling in the show? giving komi these complicated orders to go collect on her own in efforts to help her overcome her social anxiety? THIS HAS LEO WRITTEN ALL OVER ITTTTTTT. he'd definitely verbally note down the most diabolical pizza order and only gives enough time to make sure you even heard it before he's shoving the phone in your hands.

now if you start shaking and hesitate, he'll wait until like the very last second before he's chuckling and looking at you with gentle eyes. he takes the phone back into his hands, confirms the order, then pats your head. he's proud of you for trying!!

(he promptly dissolves into good-natured laughter when you start cuffing at his arm, face as red as a tomato.)

tbh thinks you're a cutie pie and tho he teases you, it's all in good nature !! let someone else try to come at you for your shyness. big "only I'm allowed to tease them" energy from this blueberry.

you know leo as your charming and obnoxious but fun-loving best friend who always smiles and jokes around you. but he can be brutal when he's upset. it's like a complete 360 when he's coming to your defense; his gaze turns hard and all traces of his bubbly self. GONE.

fiercely protective over you. whenever you're with him (or any of them really) he's your protector. and you can count on him to celebrate like it's the 4th of July whenever you manage to overcome your verbal barriers.

RAPH. our red angel of preventing harm. the backbone of our society. he is such a mother hen when it comes to you awww :(( when y'all first met & you responded to his amicable greeting by beginning to tremble and stare up at him with wide, shiny eyes, not a word of reply, he thought it was most obvious that you were scared of him. of them. ☹️

it made his heart ache but it was a familiar hurt. this may be New York, but this whole situation isn't the exact norm. (well, not yet anyway!)

then april went and pushed you forward-- closer to him, enthusiastically encouraging you to "go on, say hi!!" like some excited mom with her shy kid 😭😭. it was a few moments of tense silence, you could literally see the ". . ." in the background. then finally, in a hushed but determined whisper, you respond in kind.

yeah. he's hooked.

you bring a sense of stability and tranquility; a welcome pace to the constant chaos of his everyday normal. he's so used to all things loud and rambunctious and completely fizzy pop frenzied on a great day, that when your sweet little molasses self shows up and becomes a regular part of their everyday lives, he finds a haven that he didn't even know he wanted. much more needed.

raphie carries you in his arms to make a quick getaway? you force urge him silently to rest his head on your lap/tummy when y'all chill in peace.

he's effectively babying you? you take it with a stoic grace and appease his ruffled mother hen feathers with gentle sympathy pats to his arms when he finally relaxes.

he especially loves when you both go on little best friend dates !!

you have a tranquil, 'insider' type outlook on life so when you share your vision with them, he can't help but feel honored. being who you are in the modern world has left you with devices that conspire of the affinity to finding very cool hideaway spots!! & the more time you guys spend with each other, the closer you get. it develops into a very wholesome and loving friendship :(( ICONS, THE BOTH OF YOUSE. 🫶🏾

he loves you sm bcuz he feels like he can truly be himself - you're not the type to judge. he feels completely at ease with you and goes the extra mile to put you at ease too!!

—and you can bet he's allllways keeping leo in line as well 😭☠ like, bro can barely breathe. he can, has, and will tackle leo in mid-air because he went to tackle you in a running hug. 😪

blue bro means well when he plays around with you, but raph can only take so much before he gets tense 🥹 he just wants you to be comfortable!! :(( like, always.

he's like your teddy bear. a safety blanket. teddy blanket?? mm ^^ he's got it all for you. would bend over backwards at so much as a slight breath from you. completely whipped and unashamed of it.

DONNIE understands you on a spiritual level. he's your twin flame. your soul brother. bro's your down b, bro's your solider, he's got that thang-thang— *loud 16-wheeler horn passes by*

no but let's lock in. donbon becomes your saving grace, whether you like it or not (but i mean c'mon, who wouldn't like it? :] bro is him.) out of all the siblings, donnie understands your apprehension to socializing the best. it's not that you don't want to interact with others, it's just . . . hard. and scary. he gets that too.

donnie himself is sociable in the way that he's not afraid to interact with others nor is he scared to; he's just an introvert and if the feeling doesn't strike him, he won't. simple as that. 😆

but you're a bit of a different story. it's not that you don't want to, it's just significantly difficult for you </3. and donnie is nothing if not persistent and a fix-it felix in his own right, so! 👏 what does he do?? what he does best, of course!! he builds. he invents. he creates.

he would absolutely create different gadgets and such to try and make things easier for you. they can range from tiny things — automatic digital/magnetized notepads, tiny flying robots that have neurotransmitters embedded within so it speaks for you in the moments your voice croaks, to literal AI robots that do close to everything for you.

once he had gotten caught up in the excitement and pure influx of creative juices + had drawn up a prototype for a replicate robot of you — purely intended on doing the things that you couldn't in a way of helping out!! — and barely survived the crossfire that he was immediately subjected to by his siblings. he snapped out of it and locked tf in after that and, after a lengthy lecture from raph, he allowed leo to rip the blueprints to shreds & mikey to burn it. yes, he might've gotten carried away in his inventions, but it's all from a place of care!!!

he buys you snacks and gifts you a cute handmade keychain the next time you come over after that. you're confused but delighted. he sticks just a little closer that day, and you allow it.

i feel he'd see himself in you. as a result, he'd want to provide you with more things and protect you a lot!!! he ain't afraid to speak up on your behalf either. trust me, he's given such poetic lip to some stuck up assholes in the social world that it rendered you genuinely speechless. but they stay as inside jokes between y'all and best believe it makes the others so jealous 🤣😭.

also not afraid to tell his own brothers off if they're crowding you a little too much (*coughleocoughcough*) — he's a lot less lenient than raphie tho 😅

he cares. a lot. maybe. he's got a soft spot for you, what can I say?

when everything and anything starts to become too much for you, he's usually pretty good at recognizing it and offers you a place of solitude in his lab! it's cool and quiet (well. quiet-er than the wipeout episode that is his daily life outside those very walls.) and generally gives a very chill vibe.

he also loves the fact that you listen to his ranting and rambling without interrupting, not even once. sometimes he thinks it's because you can't, but when he pauses and goes to inquire as much, he's met with your warmed and focused gaze, a slight quirk to your lips as you nod along and. the message is there. i'm listening.

you're lowk his bestie and he can't really live without you from now on, he thinks. it's like the grumpy cat x golden retriever trope, but you're more of a cat too. two moons coexisting! two cats drenched in purple moonlight.

y'all just get each other i made myself sad. /lh + /hj

MIKEY aims to make you feel as comfortable and welcomed as possible !! at all times, all day, everyday. he even set up a cute little personal nook for you in the lair!! (he's such a sweetie pie y'all i'm 💔)

he was the most excited to meet you!!!! (you're his friend now. y'all are having soft tacos later!)

well, all of them were, but he was (and is) the most amicable and the most emotionally adept at understanding you and your shyness. apart of the "Save Y/N from Leo & His Shenanigans" pt 2. (i love the blueberry y'all i prommy bullying him is my love language). ofc he's just a bubbly glass of fizzy orange juice when y'all come face to face; he's all smiles and going "hi!! I'm Mikey!! what's your name??" even if april alr told them 🤦🏾‍♀️ HE'S JUST EXCITED OKAY???

hesitates for just shy of a second when you begin shaking, but then, you pull out your phone and shove the cute sanrio-themed greeting note in his snout and, the second it registers, he's beaming brighter than the sun and immediately welcomes you in, both physically and emotionally.

he makes you feel seen and heard, even when you try to chameleon your way through situations, as you've done countless times before. even when you assume your "better to be seen, not heard" posture, as you've done countless times before.

mikey being the most emotionally available of his family certainly comes with its perks!! he helps them navigate their individual friendships with you as well, and even tho there are a few hiccups along the way, you all develop a strong and lovely bond— & a large part in that is owed to mikey and his empathetic prowess.

particularly loves baking for/with you!!! it's always worth it to see your eyes light up, and he really does think you have a cute face. it's been described in a more debonair light by others, but to him, you're the sweetest little baozi and he just wants!!! to wrap you up in a blanket burrito and!!! keep you in his metaphorical pockets forever!!!!!!

he has definitely dedicated murals and different art pieces to you. sometimes you'll be minding your own business, just chilling together, and feel him staring at you. but before you can get self-conscious he always speaks up and sheepishly rubs the back of his head while pointing to the sketchbook in his lap. now, you're used to feeling his warm yet concentrated gaze on you, but your face still hasn't changed in the lobster red it becomes when he shows you the finished product :')) what can he say?? you're a one of a kind muse.

gives you cute nicknames. pinches your cheeks (if you're aiight with that.) soso affectionate with you, the fact that he loves you is unshakable and unquestionable.

[thelurchinghound]

hiii i dunno if id be first request or if u even take them im so sorry if u dont !!! but i was wondering maybe something yandere non con smut? x human male reader !! kink wise maybe somnophilia, knife play, blood? thank u for reading this, have a nice day/night <33

[Request info] - [Navigation] - [Elias' Pinterest]

Gender: Male reader

Kinks/Warning(s): Non-con, somnophilia, knifeplay, blood, drugging.

A/N: Grrrr I love somnophilia. Didn't know if you wanted a monster yandere so I just made it with my yandere slasher oc who has monster traits but its not really mentioned in this fic. This is a really old request that I got 70% done but then forgot about it.

Oc(s) used: Elias (Killer/Slasher) | Words: 701 | Proofread? No | NSFW |

By hitting 'keep reading' you are accepting that you're 18+ and are fine with reading dark/sensitive content (Don't like? Don't read.)

Elias had been observing you for a while now. He was always watching but never acting on his impulses, and fuck did he have a lot of them. How badly Elias desires to see you gagging on his cock, your tears staining your cheeks, his name carved into your thigh. He had even gifted you a stuffed plush of your favorite animal, a camera in its eye to watch over you. 

He had kept his patience for so long, but then you took that fucking stupid punk home. It drove him up the wall. Literally, Elias climbed up your house and into your room through your window. How stupid were you, doll, to leave your window unlocked? Oh well, it just makes it more uncomplicated for him. It was almost like you wanted this. You took that spiked drink without any thought. He thinks to himself.

Elias quietly slinks through your room, mindful not to knock anything over. His cock was already bulging in his pants, just as enthusiastic as he was. Stalking up to you with a broad grin, his gloved hand skimming your cheek. "Hey there, doll." He whispers to you, his slender body shifting to straddle your own. Fuck, he wanted to tear off all your clothes right then and there but no. He had to be patient. "You're so fucking stunning when you sleep," Elias mutters softly, his gloved hands gingerly working down your unconscious form. Black gooey tendrils slither from under his shirt, reaching out towards you. "I'm going to have so much fun with you."

He used his knife to cut through your shirt to expose your bare chest. The blade cuts your skin a little. Elias trails his lips down from the nape of your neck to the hem of your pants, lapping at any driblets of blood that well up from the thin cuts. His hot tongue rubs up against your perky nipple, his tongue piercing a stark difference to it. He could feel his cock getting more erect at the thought of you under him now. So pure, so innocent, unknowing of what was happening to you. 

Elias wastes no time pulling down your pants. I've waited long enough. He thinks to himself, his hands trembling while pulling down your underwear. Those tendrils of his wrapping around your legs, spreading them out for him. God, you look so beautiful. 

He takes his time prepping you. The killer wasn't that stupid. It's not like he wanted to hurt you too much. He just wanted to make you his own. His gloved hands ran over your body once he got done prepping you, wiping off the lube he used on his pants. Elias fumbled around his pants pocket to grab a condom he had brought. 

He unzips his jeans, pulls his cock out, and slips the protection on him. Once he gets himself situated, he starts to push into your tight ass. Soft groans leave him with each inch he forces into you. "Fuck, there we go. Just let me in, doll."

The black drooping tendrils slither up your thighs more, tightening around like snake coils. The tendrils hold your legs up higher for Elias as he starts thrusting harshly in you. Soft grumbles leave the killer. Elias was finally getting his prize. He had killed so much competition to get here. Many other guys think they could steal you away from him. No. You were his from the start, from the second his eyes laid on you.

His thrust starts to get harder and deeper, balls slapping against you with each movement he makes. Gloved hands gripping your hips, squeezing the supple skin there, the grip would surely leave bruises afterward. Elias starts to get sloppy, leaving small kisses along your neck and collarbone. But just marking you with his mouth wasn't enough. He wanted something more permanent. 

After finally finishing inside you, filling up the condom with his cum he grabs his knife. His tendrils helped move you around so he could carve his name into your flesh. The cold metal of the blade slices your skin in harsh swipes. "Don't worry, baby. I won't let anyone else harm you. Only me."

[lookingformoondrop]

NAJDNWKKRKW U WRITE FOR THE COFFIN OF ANDY AND LEYLEY?

You're the first person I see writing to themmm I'm so happy. Can I ask Something with leyley ? If not, No problem, I accept anything

Ashley Graves (Leyley) x Reader

TW: Everyone has a foul mouth and Ashley is a little shit (oh, really?), mentions of the devil's tango (sex, gasp!), Ashley is manipulative (remember kids, never stay with someone if they act like this during arguments, even if they're goth mommies).

♥︎ I'm not sure if the people crave X Reader or just headcannons with the Graves siblings, so if this isn't what you had in mind, you're always welcome to shoot me another ask. I'm so sorry this took so long to write ;-; Thank you for your patience!<3 ♥︎

♡1,287 WORDS♡

If you ever asked about 15-year-old Ashley Graves, you'd be told one of these three things;

"She's a little psycho. I'm pretty sure she'd choke out a teacher if they looked at her brother wrong."

"She's always the odd one out. If only she was nice like her brother, she wouldn't be such a lonely freak."

"Pretty like the devil is sly."

These comments always alluded you. Ashley was by far the prettiest girl in class, and even if she was a bit curt to the teachers, she had these blossoming eyes and rich smile whenever she walked by.

One day, after watching the girls mock Ashley for the second time that day, you decided to walk up to Ashley.

Ashley's gaze out of the window quickly turned towards you as you sat down on the other side of her desk. She slowly eyed you up and down.

"Uh, I'm Y/N," you offered weakly.

"Is this about my brother?" Ashely held her face in her hand with a bored stare. "Because if this is about my brother, know that he's already called for..."

You quickly shook your head, "Don't take any offense, but I don't really care about who your brother is...I'm more interested in you."

Ashely looked startled by this statement. A small blush dusting her cheeks. She had spent a lot of time making quitters and hussies run from her marshmallow-spine brother who didn't know any better, and if she learned anything it was that they would say and do whatever it took to get closer to him.

Ashley scoffed and looked out the window again, "Yeah, right, you're probably just saying that so that I'll let you meet him."

You sighed and laid your head in your arms,

"I want to play with you... not your dumb brother."

Ashley gave you a quick glance. She chewed her bottom lip as she thought about it.

"Fine. But if I catch you trying to hang out with my brother, I'm going to punish you!"

You shrugged off that last part and nodded passionately.

Ashley didn't know what it was about you that made her laugh easily, and force the malice out of her body, but it pissed her off.

Day after day, you'd run after her with some sort of treat, present, or a friendly smile that made her day.

One day, you had come to school with a surprise;

"Jesus christ Ashley, did you fish that out of the dumpster?" Andrew walked into the laundry room and saw Ashley standing in front of the washing machine with a very deformed and crusted teddy bear in her hands.

"Y/N gave em' to me," Ashley pulled her hand away, a sticky substance connecting her hand to the deformed bears head.

Andrew was taken aback and quickly snatched the bear from Ashley's hands with a simple (grossed out) finger.

"Fucking gross Ashely! Why the fuck would she give that to you?!" He made a move towards the trash bags in the shelve, but Ashley took back the teddy bear before he could do anything.

"Don't snatch things from other people's hands, you jackass!" She held the bear close to her chest despite shivering from the unknown wetness the bear had.

Andrew visibly cringed and searched Ashley's face for some sort of explanation.

"Y/N had won this at a carnival she went to over the weekend and thought I'd like it," Ashley dangled the bear from paw to paw.

"Well if it came from a carnival then why does it look like it was gangbanged-"

"I'm getting to it!" She sighed with annoyance.

"I had thought it was some stupid ploy to get to you, so I might have...thrown it down a sewer." She shrugged that last part like it was naturally the most obvious reaction to a gift.

"While it was down there, I think the rats decided to have a piece of Teddy's face and stuffing and well... the sewer, too." At the word 'sewer', both of them looked at the drenched teddy bear that dripped ominously with disease.

Andrew put his head in his hands and sighed into them, "Why are you like this? Y/N tried doing something nice, and you...let it be beaten to death by rats."

Ashley shrugged and observed the gross teddy bear in her hands, despite it being jizzed up it was cute with its (seemingly darker...) brown fur and button nose. On its chest was a pink stitched heart that read, "I told the stars about you ☆."

Maybe it was a little dramatic to throw it in the sewer, but she wasn't about to admit that. After all, she had to get this damn teddy bear back somehow, and that was enough to convince the next guy over she regretted it.

"Do you want me to clean it?" Andrew mumbled from his hands.

"What?" Ashley hadn't realized she was zoning out.

"I said, do you want me to clean it?" Andrew looked at her with tired eyes.

Ashley thought about it for a moment and then reluctantly handed the bear to Andrew, who pinched its ear to minimize the most physical contact with the dumpster fire.

That night, while Ashley was lying in bed, she thought about why you had decided to give her the bear. Maybe it really was a ploy to get closer to her brother... but Ashley couldn't help but have fun with you. Maybe, just maybe, she could enjoy this friendship a little longer.

For the next couple of weeks, you and Ashley would hang out in spots around the city.

You'd go to the movies, window shopping, clubs (mostly to get thrown out by the bouncer), food joints, and greasy taco trucks.

Ashley would come home with a pleasant smile on her face. Oftentimes, being teased by Andrew, who said he was "finally glad Ashley found a friend."

However, this didn't mean that you were safe from Ashley's tantrums. Whenever you talked to Andrew for too long or made plans with other friends, Ashley would start crying.

This became increasingly obvious when you started becoming more acquainted with Andrew.

"I thought you were my friend Y/N! I should've known you just want Andy all to yourself! I knew it! You don't care about me at all!"

"What!? No! I was just trying to ask the time-"

"I knew it! You're fake, fake, fake!! You're only hanging out with me because of my brother. You're so selfish! Well fine, since you like him so fucking much then leave! And while we're at it, why don't you just fuck him since that's all you're good for anyways!"

Ashley laughed as she dug her fingernails into your shoulders, "Everyone is just slutting around for my brother! Including you! I should've known! I should've known!-"

In a moment, your lips were on Ashley's, instantly shutting you up.

When you pulled away, Ashley stood there shocked. Her fingernails were no longer digging into your skin but rather grazing your shoulder blades.

"Would someone obsessed with your brother do that?"

Ashley opened her mouth to speak but closed it instead. She looked down and shook her head.

"I love you, Leyley, but has anyone told you you're exhausting to be with?"

Ashley nodded and rested her head on your shoulder, "You're the one that talked to me first, Y/N. You don't get to complain."

You sighed and wrapped your arms around her. Clicking your tongue as you took a moment to process all the foul things Ashley said in the heat of the moment.

"You know, everyone was right. You're kind of a psycho." You looked at Ashley's face.

"And?" She scoffed,

"It doesn't bother me."

Ashley smiled into your shirt, "You're stuck with me,"

"Forever~"

Thank you for the ask!<3

[philialdevotion]

To be drawn to such an event by curiosity… Perhaps the trait is self-begetting; Phila finds herself running her eye over the mask looking back at her, trying to see if she can get a grasp on the face lingering behind the blue and gray. She, too, is curious. 

And it is a thorougly strange feeling. Were she to catalogue the limited emotions that an event such as this inspired, she reckoned it would be a blend of exhaustion and dread. A desire for the entire thing to be done with, to send the curious faces of the courtiers and nobility who marvelled at the spectacle of a common stable-girl wandering the halls of Ylisstol castle as if she belonged there, into the oblivion of sleep. 

Of course, her presence before had been occasioned. Sanctioned by a desire to defend her Grace. And so she had endured it, easily, even. To stand vigil was to stand proud, she’d had a purpose - and hadn’t been afraid to assert it. 

This directionless wandering was so much harder, and she shrunk from it, even as she was amongst those who wouldn’t deign to comment on her dress or suggest she had misplaced herself. Her eyes kept trawling the crowd, looking for that bright spot - her purpose. 

But, the quiet mystery of this girl arrests her eye, brings it to rest somewhere closer to the present. Especially once she expresses an interest in flight. 

‘So, you’re interested in pegasi?’ Phila asks, trying to turn the edge of a plea, a leap towards familiar ground, into something more inquisitive, more curious. ‘What is it that you wish to know? I will try my best to provide a satisfactory answer.’ 

Maybe later... Yes, there wasn't much in the way of practical demonstration she could make at the moment. And, though the promise of a pretext with which to make her exit was promising, Phila wouldn't cede to it just yet. She had become well-versed in theory, since her fall. Talk was far less harmless than action, when it came to flight.

@boundlesschaos

curiosity killed the... ah.

continued from here!

[giveafike]

Hi can you write Ben Shelton x fem reader where reader is also a pro player and her and Ben are like close friends and team up to play mixed doubles in like the us open and it's kinda like friends to lovers and they being all flirty on court and eventually admit feelings to each other?

TLDR: STORY! Tennisplayer!fem reader x Ben Shelton friends to lovers. Sort of took them flirty on and off court. Tried to build it up. Mention of Bryan Shelton and Tommy Paul cameo, thanks for stopping by, kings.

Word count + info: 17.6k! SUPER LONG STORYTIME w dialogue! (over an hour's worth of reading, ouu you're well fed tonight)

Character Inspo: Just a sweet girl, like "girl-next-door" girl. Listened to "After the First Kiss" - Faye Webster writing this (cried on first listen, enjoy the link), if that helps you envision sweet, cute, pure vibes. No specifications are mentioned (except a general "shorter" height than Ben).

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW - no warnings - slight mention of cheating and gaslighting.

Azzie Notes ✚: Hi my sweet munchkins! I'm so sorry anon, this took so long to come out but life got busy + then tumblr had this unavailable for me when I queued to post which tbh was a miracle bc I was rlly unsure while writing this, and I took my own time to reread and rework it, but idk guess I have writer's block, sorta? It doesn't feel like my best work... be brutally honest w me in ur feedback when u finish reading.

And then also there's a part that was just v vulnerable for me to write, but I couldn't really imagine the scene playing out any differently. Essentially, Y/N's dialogue about her ex - that's my lived experience...erm, so I was just tinkering of ways to rewrite it but I just couldn't think of anything else to fill it with.

Anywho, boy do I have a lotta requests coming up! Be patients w me pls! Also anon, "d" you are a genius, I'm so excited to write ur prompt hehehehe, but sorry if it takes some time :(. I got a Holiday surprise coming up, I'll lyk by the end of the month what that is, but OOOH, SFW Shelton nation, prepare urselves! How are we doing otherwise? Let me know! Are you taking good care of your health in these cold months + wrapping up? Make sure to get your vitamins in! Also, is my tumblr ugly? Should I make a colour theme and redo my masterlist properly? Help?

————————————————————————

Beyond the Baseline - B.T.S

The relationship between you and Ben Shelton was like watching day and night play tennis. Seriously, how could you be friends? What did you even have in common? What would you even talk about?

You, polished, textbook perfect, poised. A steady player who never lets emotions show on the court. Confident but never loud about it. After a win, you’d offer a graceful nod to the crowd, maybe a modest fist pump, but never more. Your game was a masterclass in precision in every shot calculated, every movement on and off court methodical. Fans admired how you dismantled opponents with strategy and patience, and your flawless form made it look effortless. Off the court, you were polite and kindred, smiling, making everyone feel at ease without even trying.

You were the embodiment of calm, pristine tennis. If anyone wanted an example of “playing by the book,” they’d point to you.

And then there was Ben Shelton.

Ben, who was your complete opposite. Loud, unpredictable, made waves and was unapologetic, and yet, utterly captivating. His game thrived on power and chaos, booming serves, fast sprinting bursts across the court, and reckless dives to the net, every point celebrated with fist pumps and wild energy. He lived for those moments that made crowds roar, he basked and riled the stands. When you calmly shake hands with your opponents, Ben chats effortlessly at the net, teasing, joking, and slapping his opponent’s back with that infectious grin. Impossible to dislike, even when he was cocky. Off the court, he was just as loud, just as alive when socialising. If you were a quiet, steady river with your course set, Ben was a wildfire, impossible to contain or predict.

Yet, somehow, despite your differences, you clicked.

It all started that first year on tour at a crossover event where the tours shared a venue. After a long day of matches, you found yourself in the players' lounge, neatly perched in a plush chair, legs crossed, posture upright and as perfect as ever. You still had that composed, in-control air about you, ready to handle anything gracefully.

Then, in strolled Ben Shelton.

He collapsed into the chair across from you, manspreading like it was his personal throne, slouching so far down it was a wonder he didn’t slide onto the floor.

He glanced at you with a lazy grin, his curls messy and unruly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Y'always sit like you’re posing for the cover of Tennis Monthly?” he asked, amusement laced with that accent of his, no intention of introductions or small talk.

You blinked, taken aback for a few seconds. “I-...what?”

“Yeah,” he continued, sitting up a bit as he waved a hand at your upright posture. “We’re off the court. Y'know, you can relax, right?”

You stared, completely thrown off by his audacity. Who starts a conversation like that? And how do you even reply to that? You didn’t even know him well, yet here he was already challenging you. Your lips broke into an awkward, tight line as your mouth was still agape, trying to find words to respond - not that you needed to, it seemed like Ben had more to tease you about, clearly enjoying your confusion with a wider, gummy smile.

“Don’t tell me you play tennis like this too, all tight 'n rigid. That's so boring.”

It took a moment, but when you finally brought your eyes up to his, you burst out laughing. His nerve! “You did not just say that,” you managed between giggles, shaking your head in disbelief. “My tennis form? Really? You want to talk about form and play?”

He shrugged, not even a little apologetic, enjoying the riffing as his feet rested against the coffee table filling the gap between you two. “Just sayin' loosen up. This isn’t a press conference. I mean, d'you even know how to slouch?”

You shot him a playful, mock-serious look, tucking a strand behind your ear as you leaned forward, your arms resting on your folded legs. “I can slouch.”

His eyebrows shot up in mock surprise, folding his arms over his chest. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”

You paused, narrowing your eyes at him in a challenge. Slowly, way more dramatically than necessary, you leaned back in your chair, gently scooting down an inch on the chair, still keeping your legs crossed but allowing just enough of a slouch to break your normally perfect posture. You looked more uncomfortable than anything, your back now curved, while every other inch of your body remained proper.

Ben snorted, shaking his head, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Wowwww,” he said, barely holding back a laugh. “Look at you. A real rebel huh?”

You rolled your eyes, bringing yourself back up to sit properly, but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “I’m not trying to impress you, you know.”

“Oh?” he cocked his head to the side like a puppy, his grin turning into something softer. “Too late. You already have.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his words catching you completely off guard. There was something about the way he said it, teasing, but with an undertone that made butterflies dance in your stomach and your skin buzz. You found yourself opening your mouth to respond, but just like the other attempts, nothing came out. You just stared at him, feeling completely disarmed by his effortless charm. He didn’t push, just grinned and waited, like he was used to leaving people speechless.

How much confidence could a guy have, and how could he play it off so casually that you don't even mind it?

And in that moment, there was no awkward silence, no need for formalities. Just easy, unexpected banter that flowed naturally and lingered in your mind for longer than you'd like to admit. It wasn’t what you’d expected from someone like Ben, but somehow, it felt right. He opened a side of you within a few conversations, a side that took years of coaxing from some of your closest friends. You couldn't even explain it, for everything you both were and were not, somehow ying and yang, a mountain and a streaming river, you were opposites and yet fit together like a landscape. He’d broken through your perfectly composed exterior, making you laugh and talk without even trying, and for some reason, you didn’t mind at all.

And now here you are, present day, strolling through an Australian mall at midday, looking the ever-polar opposites.

You strode in your knitted cardigan top and straight-leg pants while Ben towered over in a casual t-shirt and his signature stupidly short black shorts. Your arm was casually linked with Ben’s, your steps in sync like this was second nature. It wasn’t unusual for you two to walk like this; in fact, it would be strange if you didn’t. Over time as you both got to know each other, it had started as a joke but became a habit, something along the lines of Ben not wanting you to get "swept away by the crowds". You shared this easy closeness, the kind that people would easily mistake for a couple, but it was just the way you were.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourselves.

“Hey,” Ben’s voice interrupted your thoughts. You blinked, realising he was watching you, that knowing grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. His finger was pointing at a poster right beside a warm small shop.

“Didn’t you mention that necklace before on call a while ago? Wanna go in and have a look?”

You shook your head, brushing it off. “Oh, no, I was just-”

Before you could finish, he was already steering you toward the small store, his hand warm on your shoulder. “C’mon, just looking, right? Besides, you need to get somethin' while we're here. Not like you can't afford it.” He flashed you a wink that made your stomach flip.

The two of you stepped into the warm-lit shop, drawing a few amused glances from the few other customers and the shop assistant. It only really occurred just odd you two looked, Ben in his usual casual attire, slouched with his hands in his pockets, striding while examining the glass displays and you, neat and polished, hands folded and shy.

Ben leaned close, glancing over the cases as if he actually knew what he was looking at. “So you’re gonna match with me and get one of those silver chains, right?” He tugged at his thick metal chain with a smirk, raising an eyebrow at you.

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. “Yeah, Ben, because that would look so ‘me,’ right?”

He snorted. “What, scared of a little edge? Imagine the next headline: ‘Good Girl Gone Bad’ ”

“Or,” you retorted, arching a brow, “it could just read ‘WTA Pro Loses It With a Clear Cry for Help.’”

He chuckled, his laugh low and genuinely amused. But then his expression softened as he caught sight of the delicate rose-gold necklace you’d been admiring. “Alright, alright. Let’s see the one you’re actually into.”

You glanced at him, surprised he remembered the specific piece. And the next thing you knew, he had the case brought out by the sales assistant. The delicate rose gold chain necklace with its beautifully intricate pendant sat in front of you. It wasn't long before the cool metal met your fingers as you gently hauled it out from its bed and into your hands, your breath hitching as you studied it dozens of times, trying to engrave it into your memory. Before you could think twice, you broke your trance and handed it to him.

“Help me put it on?”

Ben’s brows shot up, but he didn’t hesitate. “Turning this into a whole trust exercise, huh?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, turning around and sweeping your hair aside.

“Turn around,” he said, his voice quiet with a flutter of nervousness.

Obediently, you turned, holding your hair up and out of the way, feeling his hands slip around to clasp the necklace at the back of your neck. His fingers brushed your skin, surprisingly gently, and suddenly it was hard to focus on anything else but the feel of his hands there. His fingers trembled ever so slightly, his large digits fiddling with the small dainty clasp. You couldn't help but feel hyper-aware of his touch as you let out a small gasp, only for you to hear; the way he just barely grazed your neck for fleeting milliseconds, how his breath was ghosting over your ear in steady, focused breaths, how his tongue stuck out ever so slightly as he focused, his eyes honed in on getting this one thing right just for you - it was far too much.

You swallowed, realising this was the first time he’d ever been this close in this way, this… tender. A part of you wanted to step forward, break the tension, take the necklace and put it on yourself, the burning, buzzing sensation being oh so overwhelming to the point where it felt you might evaporate on this spot, right here right now. But realistically even if you really wanted to, you couldn't force or make yourself move, the feeling was like a drug, coursing through you and this was your euphoria, your high, something you hadn't felt in a long time, or maybe ever and you had no intention of cutting it short.

You gently bring your gaze up from your shoes, to the mirror and stare at him, running your eyes over his face. It's just a necklace, he's just helping you, c'mon get it together!

“There,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, and you felt the clasp fall onto your skin. But he didn’t step back right away. His fingers trailed down, skimming the nape of your neck, and for a second you thought - no, you knew - he was about to say something else, he took a sharp intake but then hesitated and remained in his silence. You look up in the mirror, seeing him still staring at your neck, and your hair, slowly meeting your eyes in the mirror before he realises he's been caught. He stepped back, his familiar grin slipping back into place, and the moment passed like a puff of smoke.

“How does it look?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, breaking free from the dizzy haze you've created in your head.

“Looks good,” he said lightly, and you hated the way your heart twisted at the easy casualness of his tone. He flashed you that infuriating smile, the one that made you both want to slap him and pull him closer at the same time.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice tight, almost irritated that you felt this intense pull that didn't seem to affect him nearly as much as it affected you. “Thanks.”

Your hand delicately took the pendant between your fingers, toying with it as you both stared at each other in the mirror entranced for a few moments, something shifting. You turned back to the display, focusing hard on the jewellery cases even though you could still feel the phantom warmth of his hands on your skin. You forced yourself to breathe evenly, to ignore the way your heart was racing, to pretend like everything was fine.

But as you looked at your reflection in the store’s mirror, the delicate gold resting against your collarbone, you couldn’t help but wonder if he knew, if he could feel it, too. The slow, insidious shift between you, the way everything had started to mean something when it was supposed to mean nothing at all. It wasn't the first time that Ben had done or said something that froze you, but it seems as though every encounter grows in its intensity, and worse, builds more confusion and haze inside of you.

“Guess that means you’re getting it, right?”

You gave him a shy smile breaking from your thoughts, turning around on your heel, still feeling the heat lingering on your neck. “I… think I might.”

As you admired the necklace in your hands, Ben flashed you a grin and excused himself, slipping off towards the main counter. You assumed he was just idly browsing or looking for something to keep him occupied while you made your decision. But when you turned to check on him, you saw him whispering something to the cashier, glancing over at you with a suspiciously wide grin.

You squinted, realising too late what he was up to. Just as you started toward him, the assistant who’d been helping you gently tapped your shoulder.

“Miss?” she said, her voice sweet but carefully practised. “We actually just got a similar collection of rose-gold necklaces in. You might want to take a look.”

You shot her a polite smile, still watching Ben out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, I think I’ve found the one-”

But Ben was already flashing his card to the cashier, sending you a playful wink and sticking his tongue out between his smile, before your assistant intercepted you again with a dazzling necklace display. By the time you returned to the counter, Ben was leaning casually, arms crossed, the structured paper bag already in his hand.

“Ben!” you hissed, reaching for it.

He laughed, holding it just out of your reach as he leaned in, his grin bordering on smug. “You don’t remember mentionin’ it twice, right?” he drawled, dripping with his usual playful tone, the same one that had you engaged from the day you first met. “Couldn’t risk lettin’ ya walk away from somethin’ you actually like.”

You smacked his arm lightly, only making him laugh more as he ducked away, looping his arm casually around your waist to draw you into a side hug. The warmth of his touch lingered, his hand resting comfortably at your hip. It was the sort of touch that should’ve felt natural by now, but somehow, it left you flustered. He was supposed to be the loud, obnoxious friend who made everyone laugh. So why did it feel like every touch, every sideways glance in your direction, especially today, held a weight that left you breathless? You hated that it was him, the one person you thought you’d never lose your cool around, who could make your composure slip so effortlessly.

“Don’t go gettin’ all mad,” he said, that easy grin still in place, his accent softening in a way that had your stomach fluttering. “It’s just a little token of your winnin's.”

You mumbled something about unfair tactics, even as your hand settled into his. He finally laughed, still holding your bag and chuckling as he looked around the mall. His gaze landed on a clothing shop just ahead, and his face lit up.

“Alright, you got your shiny new necklace. Now you’re helpin’ me pick out a hoodie,” he said, giving you a grin that could only be described as downright cocky. “Let’s see if I can look half as put together as you.”

“Fine,” you replied, barely suppressing a smile, “but don't expect me to return the payment favour, that's on you.”

Ben just laughed, letting you walk in first before he strolled in behind you. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Once inside, Ben beelined for the hoodies, pulling out everything he could get his hands on without checking the tags or sizes. He held up a dark blue one with a shrug, grinning as he tossed it in your direction. “This one’s a classic, right? Nice and oversized?”

“Ben,” you said, giving him an exasperated look as you held the fabric up, it's nowhere near his size, way too small. “This wouldn’t even fit you like a sleeve. This would be a corset for you. Besides, since when do you need an oversized anything?”

He chuckled, looking down at his broad shoulders and long frame. “Point taken. Let’s see, you’re gonna have to help me find somethin’… refined. Like me.”

You rolled your eyes, but reached for a khaki cream-coloured hoodie, holding it up in front of him. “This one’s got ‘actually dressed himself’ written all over it.”

Ben took it from you and pulled it over his head without bothering to even look for the changing rooms, letting it settle over his broad shoulders and across his arms, the fabric fitting perfectly. He adjusted the sleeves, smoothing out a crease as he caught your eye with a playful smirk.

“So, how do I look? All cleaned up, or just half?”

You stepped closer, straightening the hood and smoothing the fabric across his chest and shoulders. “Not bad,” you said, nodding approvingly. “Maybe the best-dressed you’ve ever been for casual attire.”

Ben cleared his throat, a small blush creeping up his neck before he made a funny face at you and pushed your face away with his palm, making you laugh. You reached up and tugged the hood down over his face in response. “Stop it! Do you ever act normal?”

From underneath the hood, his face was hidden but the smile in his tone gave him away. “Normal? C’mon, that doesn’t sound like me at all.”

He yanked the hood off, reaching for another hoodie, examining a grey one this time. He pulled the cream hoodie up over his head, and just as he tugged it up, you realised his T-shirt was trying to come with it. Without thinking, you reached over and tugged his shirt back down, cheeks warming as he slipped into the hoodie with a cheeky grin.

“Good save,” he said, finally adjusting the fit with a little salute. “Now I really gotta make you my official stylist.”

“Oh, if it means I get to stop you from embarrassing yourself in public, I’ll do it,” you replied with a grin.

Ben just rolled his eyes sassily as he watched you inspect the look as he pulled the grey one on. “Don’t go givin’ me too many compliments now. Might go straight to my head.”

You laughed, giving his chest a final pat. “I’d say we’ve got it just right.”

After a long day of shopping and conversing together, the last thing you needed was more conversation, you couldn't wait to take yourself to your hotel room and sink in everything that had happened and everything that had been felt. As you took your small bags from Ben's hands you stood in the elevator, engrossed in the gossip Ben was subjecting you to, something to do with car dealers. Somewhere along the way, Ben had even pressed the button to your floor himself.

By the time you unlocked your door, it was almost automatic; you turned to face him, assuming he’d say goodbye and let you get some rest. But he strolled right in, still mid-sentence, as if he had every right to be there. You stood in the doorframe, breaking your smile and shaking your head, mouth agape as you realised what just happened.

“Ben... did you just follow me into my hotel room?” you asked, crossing your arms as you watched him plop down on your bed like he owned the place.

“Pfft,” he scoffed, “don’t flatter yourself. You ain’t got nothin’ in here worth followin’ you for - ‘cept maybe more of that wild fashion sense you got.” He shot you a teasing grin, his eyes flicking over to the small shopping bags you’d set down on the dresser.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, so now you’re a fashion critic too? I didn’t hear you complaining when I helped you pick out those hoodies.”

He laughed, that easy, familiar sound filling the room, and leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. But I still think you coulda gone a little crazier. All that walking around and y' bought tiny, little things like that necklace. Real tame, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to smile. “It’s called being tasteful, Ben. Not everyone can rock 'big and bold' like you.”

He gave you a mock-offended look, his drawl growing thicker. “Well, we can’t all be boring, now can we, darlin'?”

You felt a flicker of something under his words - the teasing words hung in the air longer than you expected, and you felt a jolt of something, nothing you could name, but enough to make you look away first, pretending to busy yourself with the bags again as you cleared your throat.

“Right,” you said, voice light, “because you’re the definition of exciting. The guy who almost bought a novelty koala mug for fifty bucks.”

“Hey, c'mon now, that mug was a steal,” he shot back, eyes glinting with amusement. “And besides, who’s gonna stop me? You?”

You giggled softly, flopping down beside him on your stomach, your elbow brushing the bedspread as you kept a careful inch of space between you. The gap between you felt electric, buzzing with that familiar charge you both pretended not to notice. “I already did, remember? I’ve saved you so many times from a lifetime of tacky souvenirs. You’d be drowning in cheap tourist mugs if it weren’t for me.”

Ben’s face softened, his smirk fading into something almost thoughtful as he rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand. “Guess I owe you, then,” he said quietly, his tone lower, like he was sharing a secret.

The room seemed to hold its breath, and you swore the sunlight dimmed just a little, softening the angles of his face. For a heartbeat, you thought he was going to say something more, something that would change everything between you. You caught the scent of his cologne, warm and fresh with a hint of spice, and your eyes flickered down to his lips, wondering if he’d noticed the way you’d frozen like a deer in headlights, caught between teasing and leaning in, unsure if you were daring him or daring yourself.

His gaze dropped, almost imperceptibly, to where your fingers played with the loose thread on the edge of the bedspread, and it was like he saw right through you. The air crackled, the tension stretching out like a taut string, ready to snap making you feel all sorts of woozy. You knew if you moved, if you even breathed too deeply, it would shatter whatever fragile moment this was. He was watching you so closely, noticing everything, the angle of your face, the way your hair fell, the way your breath caught just a little too fast, the tiny smile you couldn’t quite hide.

And then he grinned as he caught your smile; a lazy, crooked grin that made your heart skip. The vulnerability in his eyes flickered and was gone, hidden behind that familiar playful charm. It was safer that way, easier to laugh it off than to admit there might be something real between you.

You nudged him gently with your shoulder, letting out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding, aching from the sincere moment but almost glad it passed. Almost.

“You definitely do,” you said, your voice deliberately light.

Ben chuckled, a warm, rumbling sound that made you feel both safe and entirely off-balance. “Deal, you got it. How about some snacks? But, if I’m buyin’, you can’t go pullin’ that health-nut stuff on me. It’s gotta be a proper snack run, none of your boring, practical choices.”

“Oh, I’m so there,” you replied, half laughing, half trying to mask the flush that was still heating your cheeks. “Just don’t get all whiny if I veto your terrible taste.”

He sat up, giving you a mockingly serious look, his expression exaggeratedly grave. “Whiny? I don’t whine. I’m just... persuasive.”

“Sure you are,” you teased, feeling the tension still lingering about in the air.

You reached out to push his shoulder playfully, but he was faster. His hand caught yours, fingers curling around yours in a way that sent a spark racing up your arm. For a second, everything went still, the noise from the street outside faded, and the weight of the bed shifted beneath you, but all you could feel was the heat of his palm against yours.

It was Ben who let go first, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischievous spark. “9, don’t be late,” he said, pushing himself off the bed with a careless grin.

You watched him head for the door, your pulse still racing in your chest. “I’m never late,” you shot back, trying to sound unaffected despite the way your voice wavered, light and teasing.

He paused in the doorway, throwing a look over his shoulder, his eyes softer than usual, almost expectant. “We’ll see about that,” he said with a wink before disappearing into the hallway, leaving you staring at the closed door, still lying on the bed, with a strange, buzzing feeling beneath your skin. You couldn't help but feel the heat rise to your face, your hand on fire from the interaction as you stared around, dumbfounded from the passing moments.

Later that night, you headed to the hotel lobby, the low hum of late-night travellers and the clinking of glass doors filling the space. You spotted Ben before he saw you, leaning casually against a column in a purple hoodie, scrolling through his phone with a barely-there smile tugging at his lips.

He looked up the second the elevator doors opened, and whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t you in a simple top with the sleeves pushed up and cargo pants, like you were trying too hard to look like you weren’t trying at all.

His eyebrows lifted, a grin spreading slow and wide. “That’s what you’re wearin’?” he said, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

You scoffed, furrowing your brows, shoving your hands in your pockets before muttering, “Yeah... what’s wrong with it?”

He rolled his eyes, but you caught the way they softened, something playful and gentle mingling with the mischief. Without saying a word, he dug into his bag and pulled out a well-worn hoodie, its cuffs fraying slightly and the colour slightly faded from too many washes. “Here,” he said, thrusting it at you. “You’re not goin’ anywhere with me like that.”

You gave him a long, unamused stare. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he shot back, voice dropping lower, teasing. “Don’t make me beg.”

You snatched the hoodie from him with a huff, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the fabric as you slipped it over your head. It was massive, swallowing you whole, the sleeves dangling well past your hands. You tugged at the cuffs, rolling them up clumsily and folding the bottom into your waistband so it didn't completely swallow you up as Ben watched with a satisfied smirk.

“Better,” he declared, like he’d personally fixed a crisis.

“Happy now?” you asked, your voice sharper than you’d intended, but you couldn’t help the way your heart picked up speed when he looked at you like that like you were more than just some friend he dragged along on a whim.

He just grinned and nodded. “Let’s go.”

The grocery store was nearly empty, the white-lit aisles stretching out like pathways to nowhere. The two of you wandered slowly at first, examining small differences side by side, until you found yourselves in the snack aisle, surrounded by walls of bright, neon packaging. Ben was in his element, zeroing in on the loudest, most ridiculous options like a kid in a candy store.

He plucked a bag of neon-orange chips from the shelf, shaking it lightly. “Alright,” he said, his tone suddenly all business, “What’s your stance on cheese puffs?”

You glanced at the bag and back at him, raising an eyebrow. “That’s not food, that’s...radioactive material. Nothing should be that orange.”

He gasped mouth agape before forming a pout, side-eyeing you. “Loud and wrong, but okay...”

You snatched the bag from his hand, tossing it into the cart anyway. “Fine. But we’re getting something that won’t kill us on the spot too.”

“Oh, here we go,” he groaned, watching as you added a box of granola bars to the mix with a self-satisfied smile. He shook his head, grabbing the cart handle and steering it down the aisle with a flourish.

“You’re no fun.”

“Somebody has to be the adult,” you said lightly, your shoulder brushing his as you walked.

The cart squeaked slightly as you rounded the corner, stopping to examine a box and before you knew it, Ben had snuck up behind you, his hands on your waist, lifting you off the floor in one swift movement. You barely had time to react before he dropped you, albeit with a slightly abrupt drop, laughing into the cart like it was the most natural thing in the world. You gasped, grabbing at the edges of the cart to steady yourself as he pushed forward, his laughter echoing off the empty shelves.

“Ben, what are you doing?” you demanded, half-exasperated, half-laughing as the cart picked up speed.

“Shoppin’!” he said nonchalantly, his voice lilting with barely suppressed giggles. “What’s it look like?”

You tried to glare at him, but the sound of his laughter, the way he moved so easily beside you, pulling you into his orbit, made it impossible to be mad. He flipped the hood over your face without warning, almost like payback from your antics earlier and you yelped, fumbling to throw it off your face as he made a dramatic show of spinning the cart around in circles in a wide arc, as if he were doing doughnuts in his car, laughing as you swayed and clung to the sides.

“Ben, you’re insane!” you shouted, but it came out more like a giggle, and you knew he’d hear it for what it was; a thrill you couldn’t quite hide.

“Yeah, but you love it!” he shot back, slowing the cart and landing it to face him, just enough to meet your eyes, the world narrowing down to the space between you. His smile was softer now, more intimate like he’d forgotten you were in a brightly lit grocery store at all.

For a second, you forgot too. Forgot about the shelves stacked high with candy and cereal, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead as your world came back from spinning and went straight into those puppy-dog brown eyes that always invited you so warmly. It was just him, and the warmth in him, the way he was looking at you like he could see straight through all the walls you’d built up.

Then he blinked, breaking the moment, and you cleared your throat, holding your sides tighter like it was armour. “C’mon,” you said, your voice a little too casual. “We still need to get some popcorn.”

His smirk returned a flash of teeth and mischief. “Only if I get to pick.”

“Fine,” you said, hopping out of the cart in a not-so-gracious way, almost tripping and falling over before you found your feet, while he squeezed his eyes shut and stifled a laugh. You ignored him and nudged him aside as you led the way, leaving him and the cart behind. “We’re not getting any of that sugar-loaded nonsense.”

“Deal,” he said easily, falling back into step beside you, close enough that his arm brushed yours with every step as he leaned onto the shopping cart's handle. It was comfortable, this back-and-forth, like a dance you’d both practised without realising.

The rest of the trip was a blur of bright colours and easy laughter, you vetoing his most ridiculous choices and him sneaking them into the cart when he thought you weren’t looking. There was something electric in the air, a charge that made you feel light and breathless. Every time your eyes met, it was like the world shrunk just a little more, leaving just the two of you standing there, suspended in a moment that neither of you wanted to end.

By the time you left, the night air was cool and crisp, and the city lights blurred into a haze of gold and blue. You carried your small, modest box of granola bars easily while Ben lugged a full backpack and a crinkling, overstuffed plastic bag of brightly coloured chaos, bumping your shoulder with his as you walked.

“Y’know,” he began, adding a lazy warmth to the night air, “if you think for one second that’s the last time I’m gonna put you in a cart, you’re wrong.”

You huffed out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Oh yeah? You're planning on carrying me around as part of your personal grocery haul from now on?”

He shot you a playful grin, his smile wide and easy. “Might just make it a habit. You fit in there pretty nice.”

Rolling your eyes, you bumped his arm with yours, but the warmth lingered longer than you expected. “You’re a menace, you know that?”

“Hey, I don't hear nobody complainin’ ‘bout bein’ chauffeured around,” he shot back, his eyes glimmering in the low streetlights. “And don’t pretend you didn’t love it. Saw you smilin’ the whole way.”

You tried to hide your grin, biting down on your lip. “I was not smiling.”

“Sure you weren’t,” he said, his voice dipping into a teasing drawl, and you knew he saw right through you. He always did, with that irritating, endearing way of his.

He kept walking, and you fell into an easy stride beside him, the silence that stretched out feeling warm, and comfortable, the kind that made you feel like you didn’t need to fill it with words.

As you cross the street, your fingers accidentally brush his for a split second, and you both tense up, the smallest contact sparking between you like static. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he shot you a quick, almost shy smile before looking up at the half-lit sky.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said suddenly as if the thought had just hit him. “There’s this café I saw online, right? Said they’ve got the best breakfast sandwiches in Australia. And it's like, a 15-minute walk from the hotel.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Yeah? And what, you’re planning to drag me out of bed before dawn just to try a sandwich?”

“Exactly! You read my mind!” he yelped excitedly without missing a beat, clearly not hearing your sarcasm. “We’ll beat the crowd! No lines, best seat in the house. Plus,” he added with a wink, “you look like you could use a proper breakfast after that grocery store workout.”

You gave him a sceptical look, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. But if it’s some overhyped, greasy thing, you owe me.”

“I’ll take that bet,” he said, flashing that confident grin that made it impossible to say no. The walk back to the hotel was quieter, the playful back-and-forth giving way to a comfortable, unspoken understanding that neither of you wanted to break. After many attempts at trying to close the door on Ben only to be interrupted by "Wait, one last thing before I go"'s and many, many awful jokes, you finally found yourself drained as you collapsed onto your bed. You quickly set a reminder for his ridiculous plan, and a dreadful 5am alarm was made, leaving you with not nearly enough time to rest after the day's antics.

The alarm dragged you out of a deep sleep way too soon, feeling like you had just fallen into slumber. You groaned, fumbling to silence it, barely managing to swing your legs over the side of the bed before realising you were still wrapped in Ben’s hoodie, the fabric heavy and warm, smelling of cologne and well, him. Blinking blearily, you forced yourself to move, your mind foggy with sleep, the hotel room still wrapped in low shadow. The chill of the early hour made you pull the hoodie tighter around yourself, the soft material a comfort against the cold.

When you finally stumbled downstairs to the lobby, he was already there, leaning casually against the doorframe, one hand shoved into his pocket, the other holding a steaming ceramic cup of coffee. He looked up at the sound of your footsteps, and you noticed the way his eyes went wide for a second before he quickly masked it with a crooked smile. His hair was messy, and he looked like he hadn’t been awake for long, but the sight of him made your chest feel oddly light. You were still half-asleep, your hair barely brushed, eyes slightly open, and wearing his hoodie like it was a shield against the early morning chill.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he said, his voice rough and deep with sleep, the sound of it washing over you like a warm wave. There was a hitch in his tone, something unsteady and unguarded, and it made your stomach flutter in a way you couldn’t quite explain. "You look... cozy."

You tried to rub the sleep from your eyes, barely registering his words. “What?” you mumbled, blinking up at him.

The lights in the lobby were harsh, making you squint, and you fumbled with the hood, pushing it back slightly. Your fingers felt clumsy, too heavy, and you knew you looked a mess. No makeup, hair lazily brushed, the sleeves of his hoodie falling over your hands like a second blanket.

His gaze lingered, and he cleared his throat, glancing away quickly like he’d seen something he shouldn’t. “I, uh... you’re wearin’ my hoodie,” he said, a slow smile tugging at his lips despite the awkwardness in his voice.

“Didn’t think you’d be, y’know, sleepin’ in it.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you shrugged, still too groggy to care much. “It’s comfortable,” you muttered, your voice muffled with sleep. “I just… forgot to take it off.”

He was quiet for a beat too long like he was turning your words over in his mind, and you noticed the way he was looking at you, really looking, like he was seeing something he hadn’t expected. You wanted to say something, to break the strange heaviness of the moment, but your brain felt slow and thick with exhaustion, and all you could do was yawn and shift your weight from one foot to the other.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice softer, a bit hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he should keep pushing. His eyes were bright despite the early hour, lingering on the way his hoodie hung loose on your frame, the oversized fabric almost swallowing you. “Well, it... looks good on you. Real good.”

You ducked your head, a sleepy laugh escaping your lips, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped at his words. “I’m sure it does, c'mon let's get going if we want to beat the queue or whatever,” you teased, though there was no bite behind it. You didn’t have the energy for anything but honesty, and you were still caught up in the warmth of his hoodie, the way it felt like a shield against the morning chill.

His grin softened, and he rubbed the back of his neck, looking suddenly self-conscious. “Nah, I mean it,” he said, his drawl slow and unsteady. “Didn’t know you’d make my old thing look that good.”

You shrugged again, feeling your face flush as you ducked your chin deeper into the collar of the hoodie. “Guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your eyes still half-closed, struggling to focus in the dim lighting.

“Yeah, you should,” he said, the words coming out a little too fast like he couldn’t quite control the way they slipped out. He was still watching you, his gaze almost tender, his usual confidence faltering in the face of your sleepy vulnerability.

You felt an odd sensation bloom in your chest. Something soft and unsteady, and you weren’t sure if it was the early hour, his deep, sleep-rough voice, or the way he couldn’t seem to look away from you. You fumbled to roll up the too-long sleeves, your fingers barely managing to fold the fabric back, and Ben’s gaze followed the movement, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite name.

He hesitated, then stepped closer, his movements careful and unhurried, like he was testing the boundaries of whatever this was between you. He lifted his coffee cup, its warmth radiating outwards as he held it just inches from your face. “Here,” he offered his voice still that deep morning rumble that made your stomach twist. “You look like you could use this more than I do.”

Ben handed you the mug, and as you took a sip, your fingers barely brushed his, such a small, fleeting touch that it might as well have been an accident. But the warmth of it lingered, and Ben’s eyes, still sleepy but more awake than yours, didn’t stray from your face. You were too groggy to notice as you took a deep gulp of the warm coffee. It was rich and comforting, exactly what you needed to get moving, and you barely caught the way Ben's gaze softened as you closed your eyes and sighed contentedly.

You held the mug back out to him, half-smiling as you blinked against the morning light spilling through the windows. “Okay, I'll admit, it’s good,” you admitted, handing it over with a sleepy grin.

Ben grinned back, his tone suddenly lighter as he accepted the mug again. “Mhm, damn right,” his drawl thick in the early hour, the kind that always made you feel just a bit more awake than you were ready for. His voice was deep, still rough from sleep, and you felt a strange flutter at the sound of it, so different from his usual light-hearted teasing. He looked like he wanted to add something further, but instead, he raised the mug to his lips, pausing for the briefest moment before taking a sip from the exact spot where your mouth had just been.

“Let’s go,” he said softly, his voice a little rough, almost hesitant, and you nodded, letting him lead the way out into the slowly illuminating streets.

The walk to the café was quiet, but it was a different kind of quiet now, one that felt heavy with things left unsaid, with the strange intimacy of the moment lingering between you like a secret. Your footsteps echoed against the pavement, and you felt more awake with each step, the chilly air biting at your face and the faint light from the rising sun glinting off the windows above. Ben was walking a little too close, his arm brushing yours every now and then, and you noticed the way he kept sneaking glances at you as if he was trying to memorise every detail, the way his hoodie pooled around your hips, the faint shadow of sleep still lingering in your eyes and on your pouted lips, the way you hadn’t bothered to fix your hair or hide the bare honesty of your face.

“Don't think I’ve ever seen you this early before,” he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence, low and rumbling like distant thunder. “No makeup, no fancy clothes. Just... I don't know, man, just you.”

You looked up at him, squinting a little against the first light of dawn, and tried to muster up some kind of retort, but all you could manage was a half-hearted, sleepy smile. “Disappointed?” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Not even a little,” he said, and the sincerity in his voice hit you like a punch to the gut. He smiled, the edges of his mouth curling up in that familiar way that made your heart skip, and you found yourself smiling back without even realising it, feeling lighter and warmer than you had in a long time.

The two of you arrived at the café, footsteps slowing as you got closer. But when you reached the door, your heart sank. Not a single person lined up. The café was dark, the interior shrouded in shadows, and there, taped to the inside of the window, was a handwritten sign that read: Closed. Opens at 7 AM.

You blinked at it, still half-asleep, your shoulders slumping as disappointment settled in. “Ben,” you dragged a hand over your face before narrowing your eyes at him, “you’re telling me I could’ve slept for two more hours? I thought it'd be open sooner!”

“Hey, who needs sleep?” he said, shrugging without a hint of regret. He gestured to the empty curb across the street with a grin. “C’mon. Let’s sit it out. I’ll make the time fly right by.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Despite the chill in the early-morning air, you settled beside him on the curb, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you rested your chin atop your knees. The street was quiet in the way only early morning can be, just the two of you and the distant hum of a waking city.

Ben stretched his long legs out in front of him like he owned the street. There was something so easy about sitting there with him in the silence, the air crisp and the sky just beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn. You watched the horizon, focusing on the deepening shades of indigo and pale gold, the familiar comfort of the city awakening inch by inch. It was strange how easy it was to be around him, how your guard dropped without you even noticing. His presence was effortless, and the way his eyes rested on you every now and then, like you were someone worth seeing, made you feel something you didn’t quite want to name yet.

“You know,” he murmured, a hint of his usual humour in his tone, “you’re not half bad at relaxin’ after all.”

You shot him a soft glare, lips twitching. “Are you trying to say I’m fun?”

“Hmm...I’d say a little more than fun,” he replied, his smile widening. “But let’s just leave it at that for now. At least no one’s in line, so we’ll get the best seat in the house when they do open” He glanced over to you as he leaned back on his palms.

You chuckled, glancing at the empty street. The entire street was silent, just the two of you in the quiet stillness of dawn. You relaxed a little, sinking further into the oversized hoodie that smelled like him, comforting and familiar.

After a while, he nudged you with his shoulder, his eyes up to the sky but his voice low. “You ever notice how I always seem to get you roped into these side quests of mine?” he asked, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Errands, random snack runs, you name it.”

You shot him a sideways glance, fighting back a smirk. “Oh, I’ve noticed. You have a knack for it, Ben. You’re lucky I can keep up. You nominated me for laundry duty last week too.”

He let his head back with a laugh. “Well, you’re good at it.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to help the smile that pulled at your lips. “Or maybe you’re just lazy.”

“Nah, it’s ‘cause you’re the only person who’ll actually come along for the ride,” he admitted, his gaze settling on you with a softness that made your heart skip. “Anyway… why don’t you ever bring a boyfriend along on one of these little errands? Not like you're short on admirers.”

His question caught you off guard, and you looked away, staring out at the sunrise as your thoughts turned inward. It was a topic you rarely touched, one you hadn’t even realised you’d been avoiding until now.“I don’t know,” you said softly, your voice distant and hesitant. “I guess, maybe… it’s just easier this way?”

“No one special you’re hiding from me, huh?” Ben’s tone was gentle, almost teasing, but his eyes held a genuine curiosity. He wanted to understand.

You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat. This was a part of yourself you rarely shared, a shadow you’d kept hidden for a long time. But the stillness of the morning and the warmth in his gaze tugged at something deep inside. “There was someone,” you admitted, barely above a whisper. “A while ago.”

He didn’t say anything, just watched you, the usual teasing gone, replaced by quiet patience.

“He... he liked that I had my life together, y'know? Like I was this 'go-getter,' always calm and composed,” you said, slowly letting the words surface. “Or at least, that’s what he told me. He said he liked that I wasn’t flashy and that I didn’t draw too much attention to myself. I think he appreciated my quiet confidence, and how I could go with the flow. Looking back, I think it was because he thought it made me easier to control...” You let out a short, hollow laugh that didn’t reach your eyes.

“I didn’t even realise when things shifted,” you continued, voice more firm now. “When he went from showing genuine interest to making all the decisions. It must've been gradual, but it felt like it just happened one day; I don’t know when it started. Suddenly, he was calling all the shots, and I thought I was just being a good partner. Compromising. Making space for him. Letting him be himself. But I didn’t see that, bit by bit, I was putting myself away.”

Ben’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent, his attention urging you to go on.

“He’d ignore my texts for hours, sometimes days, and then act like I was overreacting when I brought it up. But God forbid I missed one of his calls during training or when I was away on tour. If I couldn’t stay up late to talk, he’d make it into a huge deal. We’d set times to call, but he’d never follow through—and always with some lame excuse.”

You paused, drawing a deep breath, eyes fixed on a point in the distance.

“And then there were the arguments,” you said, voice tightening. “About the most impossible things—like how I didn’t spend enough time with him. How could I when I was half a world away? Or how my career always came first. He said I was boring, that I wasn’t spontaneous enough. But whenever I tried to change, there was always something else wrong. No matter what I did, it was never enough.”

Ben’s expression darkened, a flicker of frustration tightening the corners of his mouth. His hand was on the curb next to yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his skin—grounding you.

“Maybe he was jealous,” you said, the words almost to yourself. “That’s what my mom said. Jealous of my success, or of the fact that I had something I loved that wasn’t about him. He knew exactly how to make me feel small. Every victory, every career milestone, he’d twist it, make me feel like I was failing him. Like I was always letting him down. I thought... if I could just balance it all if I could make him happy, he’d love me the way I needed. But honestly? I don’t even know what I needed anymore, not when he was the one telling me how to feel.”

You swallowed, the bitterness of those memories heavy on your tongue.

“No matter how much I shifted or tried to be the girl he wanted, it was never enough. There was always another criticism, another reason why I wasn’t good enough. I was too selfish, too focused on my career, too indecisive, too... everything. And I believed him. I thought I was the problem. That I just couldn’t make him happy.”

A light breeze swept through the street, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling your knees close as if to shield yourself from the weight of those memories.

“He was... God, Ben, you should've heard him. He was so relentless when he wanted to be. It felt like every part of my life was under a microscope, every single decision, every single choice; it was all wrong. All the things I loved, the things that made me proud, they just started to fade away, like they’d been drained of colour.”

Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed on, finding strength in the words you’d never fully voiced before.

“I started to lose myself in a spiral. Everything felt so ... grey, so heavy like I was wading through water. I thought... isn’t this what relationships are? Compromise, sacrifice, working through the rough patches? That’s what I kept telling myself. I thought if I just tried harder, if I carried the weight for both of us, then maybe he’d be happy again, like how he was in the beginning. But I started wondering if I was even cut out for love. I mean, what does it even mean to love someone, really? All I knew was that I kept losing myself in the process, and it still wasn’t nearly enough.”

You exhaled, as the quiet of the morning felt almost too peaceful, the faint chirping of birds contrasting with the heaviness of what you were saying.

“And then he cheated,” you continued, your voice flat. “When I found out, he didn’t even try to deny it. He just looked at me, fatigued, and was like, ‘What did you expect with the way you treat me? Don’t be so naive.’ But you know what?”

You paused, a strange light creeping into your voice.

“It was almost a relief. Him cheating... it was my way out. For the first time, I had a solid, undeniable reason to leave. I didn’t have to keep convincing myself that I needed to try harder, or that it was all my fault.”

Your voice softened, carrying vulnerability.

“I don’t even know if I ever really loved him, or maybe, I don't know how to love. Maybe I just loved the idea of being loved or being enough for someone. But the truth is, I don’t think I even know what love is supposed to feel like. I gave everything I had, and it still wasn’t right, I felt so drained like a vampire had me. Maybe I’ve never felt real love, or maybe... maybe I’m just not meant for it.”

Ben’s silence was heavy beside you, his gaze unwavering, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. The shame and rawness of your words made your throat tighten, but you kept going.

“I stayed until I had nothing left to give until I got cheated on, and even then, I couldn’t tell you why. It was like I was trying to win a game I didn’t even understand. And in the end, I realised... I never even had him, not truly. I was always chasing something that wasn’t there. It was always a losing game, and I was the only one playing.”

Ben’s gaze was steady, the weight of your words hanging between you. Then he spoke, his tone warm and sincere. “You don’t deserve someone treating you like that. Not ever. I-"

He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment before he continued.

"I can’t even imagine doin' that to you. You’re more than enough, you always have been. You don’t need to change a single thing for anyone. Man, I like you just the way you are because I know you, and I know you’re worth so much more than what you settled for with that dick.”

A tear slid down your cheek, carrying all the hurt you’d kept buried for so long. You weren’t crying, not really, but his words had found their way past all your defences, and something inside you softened and broke open.

“Do you really mean that?” you asked, your voice small, almost scared, your eyes searching his.

Ben’s eyes locked onto yours, and something in his expression shifted. For a moment, he seemed almost stunned, his face softening, his features melting with a tenderness that made it hard to breathe. He reached out slowly to cup your face with his hand, as if afraid you might pull away, and when you didn’t, he gently wiped the tear from your cheek. His fingers lingered, brushing against your skin with a touch so careful it made your heart ache.

“I mean every word,” he said, his voice low and steady, barely more than a whisper. “I see you, Y/N. I’ve always seen you.”

His words hit you like a wave, and the tears came faster, though still silent. Ben’s expression softened even further, and he pulled you into him without hesitation, wrapping a strong arm around you, and holding you close. You pressed your face into his shoulder, feeling the warmth and solid comfort of him, and slowly, you let yourself sink into his embrace. He didn’t speak, just rubbed your back in gentle circles, his chin resting on top of your head.

After minutes had passed when the tightness in your chest had started to fade and the early morning warmth grew warmer, you felt him smile against your hair. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, and he said with a playful grin, “If this is all it takes to get a hug outta you, I should’ve asked sooner.”

You couldn’t help it, you let out a small, breathy laugh, rolling your eyes even as you stayed close to him, nestling your head before you lifted it up.

“Oh, shut up,” you said, smacking his shoulder lightly. “If I knew you were gonna use emotional blackmail for free hugs, I would’ve kept my distance.”

He chuckled, the sound low and comforting, and the warmth of the moment settled between you. You pulled away, wiping your face with the oversized sleeves of his old hoodie, the one that had become yours. The quiet returned, peaceful now, the sun creeping higher in the sky and washing everything in shades of soft orange and pink.

You sat together in silence, shoulder to shoulder, the pain slowly ebbing away as the world woke up around you. There was something different between you now, a shift that neither of you said out loud but both of you felt. For the first time in a long time, you felt a weight lift, and you let yourself relax against him, the silence and small conversation comfortable as you felt relief and warmth flow through you.

By the time the café finally opened, you and Ben had spent two hours huddled together as the sun began to bathe you two, and sharing quiet laughter as the world slowly woke up around you. The anticipation of the legendary breakfast had both of you giddy and a little loopy from the early start, making the time fly by.

But when the doors swung open and you finally got your hands on the much-hyped breakfast sandwiches, reality hit. The sandwiches were mediocre, wayyy too salty and the coffee was disappointingly weak. The "famous" breakfast sandwiches that Ben’s TikTok video had promised would be life-changing were, frankly, a letdown. Yet, it didn’t matter at all.

The two of you slid into a corner booth, expecting to sit across from each other, but Ben surprised you by scooting in right beside you, his thigh pressing lightly against yours. He stretched his legs out under the table, claiming the whole space as his own. You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into his warmth as you sipped your disappointing coffee.

“This is the most underwhelming breakfast I’ve ever had,” you said, crinkling your nose as you picked at the sandwich.

Ben chuckled, flashing you a mischievous grin. “Guess I owe you a better one, next time” he teased, nudging your shoulder with his.

“Damn right, you do,” you shot back with a smirk.

Ben’s arm rested casually over the back of the booth, his fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine. Every small, careless touch, his knee nudging yours, his fingers grazing your hoodie, made it harder to ignore the fluttering in your chest. With each laugh and shared smile, you felt something shifting between you, something that made it impossible to see him as just a friend, especially after being so vulnerable earlier.

As the café started to fill with the morning crowd, you remained on the same side of the booth, your legs tangled comfortably under the table. There was an easy closeness between you now, a kind of unspoken understanding like you were sharing a secret that only the two of you knew. When he reached over to brush a crumb from your lip as you talked, his fingertips barely grazing your skin, you felt your cheeks heat and words stutter, but you didn’t pull away. The sun rose higher, streaming golden light through the café windows, and the warmth between you felt softer and more real than any disappointment over a bad breakfast. Ben’s presence was grounding, and for the first time in a very long time, you felt genuinely at ease, like the weight of your earlier conversation and all your own personal baggage had lessened, transformed into something lighter by his easy smile and gentle touch.

By the time you both decided to leave, you were still laughing over the overhyped “legendary” breakfast. As you stepped out onto the sun-drenched street, Ben’s hand slipped into yours with a light squeeze, like always, as if to say, I’m still here. I’ve got you. The simple gesture left your skin tingling, and your heart racing just a little faster.

You walked together down the slowly waking street back to the hotel, shoulder to shoulder, arms looped together, a warmth lingering between you that had nothing to do with the sunrise. The world around you was coming alive, but it felt like you were still living in that quiet, private space you'd created in the early morning hours, a small bubble of warmth and closeness that was just yours. Of course, it couldn't last long, not with training and matches coming up alongside personal commitments and whatever else, but having this quiet time together was more than rewarding.

As the café faded into the past, so did the warmth of those golden moments, but the echoes lingered. It wasn’t just the memory of his hand brushing yours or the way his laugh had chased away the lingering shadows of your conversation. It was the way he lingered, so effortlessly, so relentlessly, in the quiet spaces of your life.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him as your tour carried you to different cities. The way his hand had slipped into yours so naturally that morning replayed in your mind at the oddest times: during practice serves, mid-flight naps creeping into your peaceful dreams, even while unpacking yet another suitcase in yet another hotel room. It wasn’t like you wanted to be distracted, but Ben was everywhere, his presence stamped into your routine as if he’d always been part of it. And it seemed as though he had no intention of loosening that grip he had on your mind. Calls and messages were frequent as days blurred into one another, conversations that felt simultaneously too much and not nearly enough. Ones that'd have you squealing in bed as you reread over the texts or have you clutching your phone tight minutes after hanging up, savouring the small moments. The banter was still there, as effortless as it was grounding, but now it came with an undercurrent you couldn’t name, something unspoken threading its way through the pauses between your words. Ben became a comforting constant amid the chaos. He was always just a call or a text away, his presence a steady anchor even when everything else felt transient. And while you were grateful for the familiarity, it didn’t stop the butterflies that erupted every time his name lit up your phone.

Like tonight.

After a gruelling match and a hurried dinner that barely counted as a meal, you finally collapsed onto the hotel bed. The quiet of the room felt foreign after the noise of the day, but it was a relief until your phone buzzed on the nightstand. The call started with Ben’s face filling the screen, eyebrows raised and a smirk already in place.

“Hey, stranger,” he smiled in a sing-song tone.

“Oh, spare me,” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself.

" 'Spare me?' ” Ben scoffed, kicking back and grinning at the screen. “Girl, you’re acting like you’re the only one with a rough schedule. What’ve you been up to? Post-match feast, or just a sad granola bar?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Neither. Quick and quiet dinner after the match, some bland pasta with a wilted salad, the usual. Real glamorous stuff.You already back to your hotel?”

“Hours ago,” he said. “Caught the highlights of your match, though. That backhand winner down the line? Chef’s kiss.” He mimed a dramatic kiss to the camera. “You’re out here stealing the show.”

“Please,” you said, rolling your eyes, and shrugging. “It wasn’t even my best match. I’ll take a win, though.”

“Don’t be modest,” Ben teased. “Meanwhile, my highlights reel was probably just me sweating buckets with my shirt clinging to me and yelling after missing a forehand.”

You smirked. “Nah, you’re too busy being ‘America’s tennis heartthrob.’ I’m sure your fangirls don’t even notice the double faults.”

Ben groaned, throwing his head back. “Not this again.”

“Oh, come on,” you grinned, teasing him. “Tall, built, All-American golden boy? I’m shocked they haven’t made you into a wax figure yet! ATP should get on that, the more I think about it.”

He leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. “Is the golden boy charm working on you?”

You blinked, caught off guard, furrowing your brows. “What..? No. Shut up!”

Ben chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Hey, I was just checking. You're the one who brought it up.”

“Yeah, well…” you said, flustered, fumbling for a comeback. “I mean, I guess it’s a little funny. The way they’re all obsessed with you, I mean.”

He smirked. “Smooth save.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, looking away. “At least you’re not lonely on tour. You’ve got Bryan. Built-in travel buddy.”

Ben scrunched his face up. “Oh yeah, great idea! Let me just grab dinner with my dad after a match so he can spend two hours lecturing me about footwork and his ‘good ol’ days.’ ”

You laughed, before breaking into a pout. “Poor, poor Bryan. He just wants to hang out with his son, and you’re out here running from him.”

“I’m not running,” Ben said defensively. “I’m…um, strategically avoiding.”

“Sure you are.”

“And anyway, no one here’s like you,” he added, his tone casual but his gaze steady.

That caught you off guard. “Yeah-w-what?”

Ben’s smirk deepened. “Don’t choke now. Where’s that quick wit of yours?”

“Shut it,” you groaned, your face heating up as you pressed your face into the mattress.

“Aw, you’re blushing,” he teased, leaning closer to the camera. “Cat really got your tongue this time, huh?”

“Ben, I swear to God,” you said, groaning and burying your face in your hands and dropping the phone.

He laughed, clearly triumphant. “It’s okay, you��ll get me back at the charity doubles event in a few months. I’m counting on you to carry me.”

“Carry you?” you said, grateful for the change in topic. “I thought you were the unstoppable Ben Shelton. 'Big serves, big shots.’ "

“Yeah, yeah, but doubles is different,” he said with a shrug. “Doubles is all about teamwork. I’ll take your instructions. Like Federer and Mirka, except, y’know, cooler.”

You laughed. “Cooler? That’s a bold claim.”

“Why not?” he said, spreading his arms wide. “They’re classy, they’re unstoppable, and they look good doing it. That’s us, right? Total power couple energy.”

“Power couple?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“On the court,” he clarified with a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it professional.”

“You’d better,” you muttered, shaking your head, though you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

As the call ended and the screen faded to black, you lingered in the quiet of your room, your pulse still racing in the aftermath of his teasing grin. Your fingers traced the necklace at your throat, the metal cool under your touch, but the memory it carried, the warmth of his hands, the way his eyes had softened when he fastened it, made your chest feel full and tight all at once.

You had to admit, Ben Shelton was infuriatingly good at leaving you in this liminal space, caught somewhere between wanting to roll your eyes and wanting to let yourself fall completely into whatever this was becoming.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself off the bed and rifled through your suitcase, finding his hoodie tucked neatly inside. It was a lifeline, an anchor to him when the distance felt like too much. The fabric was soft against your cheek as you hugged it to your chest, his scent faint but unmistakable, as if he were still there, filling the room with his easy laughter and ridiculous charm. It was almost maddening how easily he got under your skin, how his words lingered long after the call had ended, tangling themselves with your thoughts and leaving you guessing.

Was he just being Ben? The not-knowing was intoxicating in its own way, a thrill and torment that made your stomach flutter and your mind race long into the night until you could fall asleep, and even then, he graced your dreams with his warmth that you could never get enough of.

For Ben, the feelings weren’t any simpler. He leaned back against his hotel bed, the phone still warm in his hand, the smile he’d worn during the call refusing to fade. You always had this way of leaving him grinning like an idiot, proud of his one-liners that caught you off guard but tonight felt different. He loved catching you off guard, how you’d try to fire back some clever retort only to stammer and fall silent, just like the first time he met you. It wasn’t just funny to him; it was endearing, that quiet vulnerability you didn’t even seem to notice. And God, you were beautiful, even in that post-match haze, hair damp and face free of makeup, exhaustion softening your edges in a way that only made you look more real, more you. He wished he could've seen you in person; he could stare at you like that for hours and still turn back for a second glimpse, never getting enough.

He sighed, rolling onto his side as his fingers hovered over a photo on his camera roll, the one where you weren’t looking, too focused on a menu, brow furrowed like the decision was life or death, another one of you in his car, casually on your phone, followed by another photo and another. He couldn’t help it; his chest tightened at the memory of moments like that, the way you made the chaos of his life feel lighter. Then there were the little things: the protein bar with your teasing note that you threw in his bag during a practice one time, or the way you seemed to know exactly when to check in when you could read how he honestly was.

It scared him sometimes, how easily you crept into his thoughts, how much he wanted to be the reason you smiled the way you had tonight. And yet, even as the thought tightened in his chest, Ben smiled again, already counting down the days until he’d see you at the charity event, knowing it just couldn't come sooner.

The atmosphere at the event was electric, a blend of effortless fun and star-studded tennis. Neon lights pulsed along the edges of the court, casting playful shadows on the buzzing crowd as a DJ spun upbeat tracks that thrummed in your chest and made the ground pulse. It was far from a serious tournament, more like a party on a tennis court, where fans and players mingled, indulging in casual games and champagne-laced banter.

You smoothed down your navy skirt, the silky white bow in your hair fluttering lightly as you stepped into the tunnel, the buzz of conversation growing louder. A little blush, a sweep of mascara, and a touch of concealer made you look radiant but understated; the only jewellery you wore was the rose-gold necklace Ben had gotten you, gleaming softly against your collarbones under the venue’s lights.

“Ready to dazzle?” another player teased as she passed by, her racket slung lazily over her shoulder. You shot her a grin, zipping up your bag as you mentally prepared for the night ahead. But before you could take another step with your bag now slung over your arm, a hand wrapped gently around your wrist, tugging you back into the shadowed corner of the tunnel.

You turned quickly, your startled expression melting into a mixture of exasperation and amusement when you saw Ben. He was leaning against the wall, grinning like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

“Subtle as always,” you teased, arching a brow, even as your chest tightened slightly at the sight of him. It had been months, and somehow, he looked the same but different, more confident, more composed, yet just as unmistakably Ben.

He tilted his head, his grin spreading slowly. “What can I say? I like to make an entrance.”

“By sneaking up on me?” you quipped, folding your arms but unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Better than yelling, don’t you think?” He pushed off the wall, stepping closer, his presence filling the space between you. For a moment, the noise of the crowd outside felt distant, the thrum of music fading into the background.

He let his eyes roam, taking in the bow in your hair and the soft gleam of the necklace he’d picked out weeks ago. “You look…” He trailed off, his voice softer now, tinged with something he wasn’t saying. “I mean, wow.”

You felt your cheeks flush, the warmth crawling up your neck as you shifted on your feet. “Don’t start, Shelton,” you muttered, though your voice lacked any conviction.

“What? It’s a compliment.” His tone dipped, quiet but teasing, as he leaned just enough for you to catch the faint scent of his cologne. “Guess I forgot how good you clean up...y'know while still bein' all proper.”

You tried for a quick, witty comeback, but the words stumbled and caught in your throat when his eyes met yours again, warm and intent. It was like he saw through the polished image you’d carefully put together for tonight, straight to the version of you he knew best: messy hair, sweat-soaked, exhausted after a match.

“Ben...” you started, voice faltering as he smiled.

“Missed this,” he murmured, stepping even closer as he studied your face, his gaze lingering on your lips. “Missed you.”

The simplicity of it hit harder than you expected, your breath catching as he pulled you into a tight hug without hesitation. His arms wrapped around you with a sure, steady strength that made your chest ache, one hand splayed against your upper back, the other resting lightly at your waist, rubbing up and down with his thumb. Your cheek pressed into his shoulder as you let yourself lean in, your arms slipping around him.

You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach him properly, your nose brushing the soft skin of his neck. He smelled faintly of cologne and something clean, and when he bent slightly to press his face against your hair, the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine.

Neither of you said anything at first; the hug lingered just long enough to toe the line between friendly and something more.

“Alright, lovebirds,” a voice called from behind, breaking the moment. You glanced over to see Tommy Paul strolling by with a smirk, holding a tennis racket slung over one shoulder. “Save it for the courts.”

You pulled back quickly, a small laugh spilling out despite yourself. Ben groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Ignore him,” he muttered, his other hand still resting lightly on your waist.

You shook your head, biting back a smile as you looked up at him. “Guess I should’ve known you’d bring your fan club with you.”

Ben chuckled, his thumb brushing against your side before he let his hand drop. “They’re just jealous,” he teased. Then, his grin turned sharper, more mischievous. “Besides, you’re Mirka tonight, remember? That makes me Federer.”

You rolled your eyes, already turning back toward the tunnel’s exit. “Then let’s hope you’re half as good on the court as he is.”

His laugh followed you, rich and unbothered. “Careful, Mirka, I might just have to prove it to you out there.”

You smirked, stepping forward toward the light of the court. “Right. I'll see you out there, Federer.”

Ben chuckled low behind you, the sound carrying as he followed. “Better bring your A-game, Mirka.”

You both stepped into the event space, the pulse of music and hum of voices a vibrant backdrop. A waiter with a tray of champagne flutes passed by, and Ben grabbed two, handing you one. “For courage?” he teased, raising a brow.

“Or patience,” you countered with a cheeky smile, clinking your glass against his before taking a sip. The bubbles tickled your throat, a pleasant warmth settling in your chest.

The two of you drifted toward the edge of the court, lingering for a moment to take in the scene. Fans were scattered around, some waving excitedly as they noticed you both, others engrossed in their own games. The energy in the air was contagious.

“You nervous?” Ben asked, glancing down at you, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned closer.

You scoffed lightly, tilting your head toward him. “Pfft, not even a little. You?”

“Only about carrying you,” he shot back with a teasing grin.

You laughed, a genuine, carefree sound that had him grinning even wider. “Big talk for someone who hasn’t even warmed up yet.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, taking a sip from his glass, his eyes never leaving yours. “Trust, I’m plenty warm now.”

The look he gave you was so direct, so warm, it sent a shiver down your spine. For a second, you almost forgot where you were, his gaze holding you in place. Then, with a soft laugh, you shook your head. “Careful, Shelton. I might start to think you’re flirting with me.”

“And if I am?” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

You didn’t answer, the sudden heat in your cheeks making you glance away. But Ben stepped closer, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken. “You’re kinda cute when you’re quiet, you know that?”

“I’m not quiet,” you retorted, though the slight stumble in your voice only made his grin deepen.

He shook his head before he got pulled into some conversation, the night stretching out with laughs. It wasn't long before it was your turn on the courts with Ben for mixed doubles with fans. The game was as lighthearted as the crowd’s energy, every point a mix of banter, champagne-fueled laughter, and effortless coordination between you and Ben. You didn’t know if it was the bubbly coursing through your veins or just the sheer ease of being around him, but the nerves that usually gripped you on a court had dissolved into something bolder, something exhilarating.

“Hey! Didn’t know you could slice like that,” Ben teased, coming up beside you after you returned a tricky serve with a clean, low shot. His grin was wide, boyish, and entirely too charming.

“Didn’t know you cared enough to notice,” you quipped back, tossing him a look over your shoulder.

His laugh was low, his eyes sparkling under the court lights. “Oh, I notice. Don’t worry about that.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away as he moved to stand closer, his shoulder brushing yours. A fan on the opposite side sent the ball flying long, and you let out a small cheer, reaching up for a high five. His palm smacked yours, but instead of letting go, his fingers lingered, curling slightly against yours to hold your hand in his big one as he leaned down just enough for only you to hear.

“Careful now,” he murmured, his voice dipping, his thumb grazing your palm. “Don’t make me think I need to keep you around full-time.”

Your stomach flipped, and you blinked up at him, thrown off by the sudden softness in his tone. “Keep up the compliments, Shelton, and I might start thinking you’re sweet.”

“I can be sweet,” he said, his grin turning a little cocky as he finally released your hand. “But only when you’re around.”

You were saved from having to respond by the start of the next point, though your heart was far too distracted to focus properly. Ben, however, didn’t seem fazed, his energy casual and relaxed as he sent a gentle lob to the next fan on the rotation. Between rallies, he wandered back to your side of the court, resting his hand briefly on the small of your back, rubbing it softly. The touch was fleeting, but it left a trail of warmth in its wake.

As you finished another easy point, Ben jogged toward you. “So, is this your strategy? Win them over with that slice and then charm me into doing all the work?”

You laughed, spinning your racket in your hand. “Oh, puh-lease. I’m doing most of the carrying here, Ben. Admit it, you’d be lost without me.”

“Lost? Nah.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping just a fraction. “Distracted? Definitely.”

Your breath caught, the weight of his gaze lingering longer than it should have. But before you could respond, another cheer from the crowd broke the moment. He stepped back, grinning as though he hadn’t just thrown your heart into overdrive.

By the end of the set, the champagne had smoothed the edges of your usual reserve, and the energy between you both crackled with something unspoken but undeniable. When you reached for another high-five after the final point, he caught your hand and tugged gently, pulling you just a step closer this time.

“We got a nice win,” he murmured, his eyes flicking down to yours.

“Mhm, and I got a nice partner,” you replied, the words falling out before you could think better of them.

His grin softened, his hand brushing lightly against your lower back again. “Careful. I might start thinking you’re trying to charm me.”

“And if I am?” you shot back, your eyes coy and big as your newfound confidence was fueled by the buzz in your veins and the way he was looking at you as if no one else in the world mattered.

Ben’s laughter was warm and rich, a blush spreading across his cheeks that wasn't just from the game. The way his eyes stayed locked on yours said everything. “Then I’d say it’s working.”

As the event wound down, you and Ben exchanged a few last high-fives with the fans. The laughter and excitement of the crowd hung in the air, but as the noise began to settle, there was a familiar, charged silence between you two. The playful teasing, the flirty glances, it was all still there, but now it had a weight to it as if the evening had somehow shifted to a different gear.

Ben caught up to you as you started to make your way toward the exit, his smile flashing as he fell into step beside you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, voice low and teasing. "Pizza? Just us? The rest are going to a restaurant downtown, but I thought we could hang out n' catch up."

You raised an eyebrow, the suggestion making your heart skip a beat. There was something about the idea of more time with him, just the two of you, that sent a rush through your chest. “Pizza?” you repeated, the buzz from the champagne still swirling inside you, but now mixing with a touch of curiosity. “After all that, you want to drag me to some random pizza joint?”

Ben grinned, his eyes full of mischief. "It's not random. It’s a little hidden gem, just a few blocks away. Trust me, it's worth it. You won’t find better pizza around here, Ben approved.”

You glanced at him, your internal struggle between teasing him and playing it cool warring inside you. There was something in the way he said it, an undeniable charm in his voice that made you want to go. The idea of quiet, easy conversation with him, without the crowd, the friends and the noise, felt too good to pass up.

"Alright, fine," you said, rolling your eyes but giving in. "But if this place turns out to be some dive with soggy crust, I’m blaming you.”

Ben laughed, his grin widening. “Deal. You’ll love it, though. I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

The two of you began walking down the street, and the air between you seemed to settle into something new, something more intimate. The world around you felt quieter now, each step taking you farther from the noise of the event and closer to something more personal. With every step, the liquid courage from the champagne seemed to melt away, leaving behind a fluttery, almost nervous feeling in your chest. Maybe it was the lingering heat from the flirting, or maybe it was just that you were walking with him, alone.

“So,” you asked, trying to keep it light, but your curiosity bubbled through, “how many people do you drag to these random pizza spots, Ben?”

He chuckled at that, his eyes flicking over to you for a brief moment, amused. “Honestly? Not many. You’re the first one, I think.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Really? I’m the first person you’ve brought here?”

Ben shrugged casually, his grin widening with the playfulness that was so typical of him. “I don’t usually do this kind of thing. But when I find a place this good, I kinda want to share it with someone who'd 'ppreciate it, someone who's... worth it.”

His words hung in the air, and for a split second, everything between you seemed to be still. You could feel the warmth in your chest, the closeness between you suddenly feeling charged. You fought the urge to let it show, instead meeting his gaze with a playful grin.

“Well, lucky me, huh?”

“Lucky you,” Ben echoed, and his voice softened just enough that you noticed. He turned slightly toward you, his pace matching yours, steady and relaxed.

By the time you reached the pizza place, the small talk had faded into a comfortable silence, both of you still trying to make sense of whatever was happening between you. You hadn’t crossed any line yet, but with every moment, it felt more inevitable that something was to change. As you walked inside the tiny pizzeria, the smell of fresh baked goods hit you immediately. The cozy, intimate atmosphere felt like a world away from the high-energy chaos of the event. Ben led you to the counter, and even though the tension between you was still palpable, it had shifted. It was no longer the playful, teasing kind of tension, it was something else. Something unspoken, but undeniable.

You had no idea where this was heading, but with Ben by your side, you were curious to find out.

You walk back toward the venue, the buzz of the event now a distant memory, stomachs full from the pizza that somehow tasted better than it had any right to. The tiny pizzeria, tucked away in a quiet corner, had been the perfect escape. The laughter that had flowed freely while you ate had washed away the tension and the drunken buzz that had clung to you both all night. It had been easy, lighthearted, comfortable, like nothing had changed, even though everything had.

As the two of you strolled back under the glow of the streetlights, a comfortable silence settled between you. The air was cool, a light breeze weaving through the night. The only sound was the rhythm of your shoes on the pavement. Yet, inside, you both felt the weight of what hadn’t been said.

Ben’s hands were stuffed in his pockets as he kept pace with you, his easy stride matching yours. But something had shifted in him, his smile softer, his eyes more attentive as he glanced at you. “You look really good tonight, you know that?”

You laughed lightly, rolling your eyes as you shook your head. “Ben, you keep saying that,” you teased, “What’s the deal with you tonight? You want something?”

He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners, genuine and unguarded. “Nah, I'm just sayin' 'cause it’s true,” he said, a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

Your stomach fluttered, the compliment hitting you harder than you expected. You’d heard him say things like that before, but tonight? There was something different in the way he said it. Something quieter, more sincere.

“Okay, okay,” you said with a grin, trying to mask the effect his words had on you. “I get it, I look good. Thank you.” You laughed at yourself, but Ben’s gaze never wavered from you.

Ben chuckled, his tone light but steady. “I mean it,” he repeated softly, then added, “And that necklace we got... It’s perfect for you, made for you. Looks really good on you.”

You touched the pendant on the necklace, the one he had picked out for you earlier, and it felt foreign now. Warmer, more meaningful, like it was holding a piece of the night with it. “I think you’re just saying that to flatter me,” you teased.

“I’m not,” he said seriously, his voice dropping slightly. “You really do look good. I mean you’ve always looked good, but tonight... I dunno, it’s sumn' else.”

You caught the sincerity in his words, and your heart thumped a little harder. Ben, usually the jokester, was being serious now. “Well,” you said, your voice almost breathless, “Thank you. I’ll take it.”

He smiled, a playful glint in his eyes still there, but it was softer. “Of course.”

There was a long pause as you walked side by side. The city’s lights flickered around you, the hum of the night settling into a comfortable silence. But then, something shifted. You couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“So, Ben…” you started, your voice tentative. “Are you like this with every girl you meet?”

His stride faltered for just a second, and he turned to look at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean, like ‘this’?”

“Flirty,” you let out a breath at your boldness, a teasing edge in your voice. “Like making everyone feel like they’re the only one. Are you always so... charming?” You paused, gathering your courage. “You do this with every girl?”

Ben stopped walking, his hands sliding out of his pockets as he processed your words. He tilted his head, studying your face before shaking his head.

“What girl do I have around me or talk to, besides you, Emma and my mom?” His voice was calm, but there was an honesty in it that made your chest tighten. “You’re the only girl I ever talk to like this, spend time with. So no, not every girl.”

You blinked, surprised. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, really.” He looked at you like you were asking the most obvious question. “You think I’m like this with every girl I meet? I only talk to you like this.”

That honesty hit you harder than you expected, your breath catching. You hadn’t realized how much you’d assumed about him until now. His words made your heart race.

You glanced up at him, trying to make sense of it all. But his expression said everything you needed to know.

“Yeah, duh, c'mon, Y/N” he grinned, a sincere, slightly confused smile spreading across his face. “What makes you think I’d mess around like that? It’s only you.”

You stopped walking, your mind racing as his words sank in. “Wait,” you said, a disbelieving smile spreading across your face, though your brow furrowed. “You’re telling me, you don’t talk to anyone else like this? You don’t hang out with other girls?”

Ben chuckled softly, his hands back in his pockets, but his eyes serious as he looked at you. “Nah, you’re the only one I ask to hang with. You’re the only one I text first when I’m on tour. You’re the one I call to mess around with.” He smiled like he was telling you the simplest truth in the world. “So yeah, it’s just you.”

You swallowed thickly, your heart pounding in your chest. Every word Ben had said felt like it was pulling you under, a current that you could no longer fight. You hadn’t realised how much you needed to hear him say those things until the weight of them hit you, until his words finally opened the floodgates in your chest, making your heart pound. Could it be that he valued you just as much as you did him? You let out a slow breath, the air feeling heavier now like you were standing on the edge of something monumental.

“Ben…” you whispered as you halted in your tracks, your voice unsteady but determined, a sigh escaping your lips.

It didn’t make sense. You’d always assumed Ben had people around him, always figured he was surrounded by fans or other girls, but hearing him say that you were the one, the only one, hit you in a way you hadn’t expected. You opened your mouth to try to verbalise the swirling thoughts in your head, but the words stuck, so instead, you let the silence sit between you. Then, Ben took a slow step closer, his tone shifting from casual to something more serious.

“Can I be honest with you?” His voice was lower now, the playful edge that usually made everything feel light gone.

You nodded before you could even stop yourself, feeling your heartbeat thud in your chest. There was no going back now, not with the way he looked at you.

He took a deep breath before he began, looking down the street before turning to face you.

“I like you,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “Like, I really like you.” His gaze held yours, unwavering. “I know it’s probably not the best time to say it with everything going on, with our tours and us barely seein’ each other, but I can’t just let this hang on. I can’t just let it pass and regret not saying somethin’ later. I’m not that dumb.”

He exhaled like he was trying to shake off the weight of what he had just confessed, looking at you like he was unsure whether you would run or stay.

“You’ve got this way of, like... pullin’ me in, y’know? I don’t even know what to do with myself most of the time. I try to act like it's all cool like I’m just messin' around, but I can’t stop thinkin' about you, ever. And I never thought I’d be the kind of guy who gets wrapped up in somethin' like this. But here I am.”

You blinked, not sure if your heart was beating too fast or too slow. His confession hung in the air, heavier than anything either of you had said before. It was raw, and it made your chest tighten.

“I know we got months apart, and I know you probably think I’m crazy for sayin’ this now, but I had to say it.” He took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just... It’s just you.”

You stood still for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. The weight of his confession settled over you, his words still hanging in the air, thick with meaning. Your heart raced, and you could feel your pulse at your fingertips as you tried to process everything he had just shared. Ben took another step closer, inches away from you, his eyes never leaving yours. There was an intensity in his gaze that made everything feel surreal like you were the only two people in the world. His voice softened as he spoke again, this time with more emotion than before, his words raw and unguarded.

“You know,” he started, his drawl even more pronounced now, “ever since we first met, I wanted to be in your circle. I wanted to be around you, be close to you. But when I saw you with that necklace, and my hoodie, laughin’ and lookin’ up at me like that, God, Y/N, swear I could feel my heart meltin’ right then. I don’t even know how to explain it. It just felt like... I dunno, like everything clicked.” He paused, his breath catching as if he was just now realizing how much those little moments had meant to him.

“And when you told me about your ex, Jesus, I wanted to-” He cut himself off, a flash of anger flickering in his eyes, but he quickly controlled it. “I wanted to kill that son of a-” He stopped himself again, shaking his head as if shaking off the anger.

“Not that it matters. But what matters is that I want to show you what real love is. What real care feels like. What a real man’s like, y’know?” His voice dropped even lower, barely above a whisper. “What you deserve, and then some.”

He leaned in slightly, his hand instinctively reaching for yours, fingers brushing lightly, but lingering longer than necessary.

“Hell, if you gave me a chance, even, just, like, 20 minutes?” He let out a breath, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, but there was no humour behind it, only sincerity. “I’d give you the world, and more, in that short time. Until you told me enough. But I need you to know that... it’s real. It’s all real, Y/N. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t.”

You stood frozen, your mouth slightly parted, trying to catch your breath. His words hit you like a wave, each sentence making your heart race faster, your chest tightening as the weight of everything he said settled into your bones. You couldn’t speak for a second, lost in the gravity of what he had just revealed. The vulnerability, the truth in his eyes, the way his words laid bare a side of him you hadn’t seen before, it was all too much, and yet everything you hadn’t realized you wanted.

A sigh escaped your lips as the words came tumbling out of you.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping you, but it was one of relief, one of release. “You drive me insane, Ben. Every time you’re around, every time you look at me like that, like I’m the only one in the room, it makes me feel things I’m not sure I know how to handle. I can’t even explain it to myself, let alone to you. It’s like I’m constantly trying to push it down, but every time you smile, or, God, when you do that thing with your eyes when you look at me like you’re the only one who really sees me…” You trailed off, the words too big to say all at once. You exhaled, shaking your head, but the relief was already washing over you. “I’ve never felt like this before. Not even close.”

Ben was quiet for a moment, his gaze softening as he listened. You could see the understanding in his eyes, the way he was holding back, yet completely tuned in to every word. It was different now. You felt his grip on your fingers tighten just slightly as if grounding both of you at this moment, a silent assurance that you weren’t alone in this confession.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and gentle. “You don’t have to hold back with me.” He stepped closer, his other hand lifting to gently cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a slow, deliberate motion that made your breath hitch. “I’ve felt it too. All of it. Every damn time I’m with you, I can’t stop thinkin’ about how much I want this. Want you.”

Before you could respond, before you could even process the depth of his words, Ben pulled you in, unable to hold back anymore. His lips found yours with a sudden, overwhelming intensity that took the air from your lungs. His kiss was deep, full of everything that had been unspoken between you two for so long, full of everything you needed and more. His hand at the back of your neck held you steady as his other arm wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him, the warmth of his body sending a wave of heat through you.

The late night wrapped around you like a blanket, the streetlights casting soft pools of light across the footpath, but it was the brick wall behind you that grounded you. Your back pressed against it, your hands instinctively finding his shirt, tugging him closer as if you couldn’t get enough. You felt his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong, in sync with the way your pulse quickened in response to him. Ben’s lips moved against yours with a kind of desperate gentleness, his kiss unhurried but passionate and purposeful, as if he was trying to pour everything he hadn’t said into this single moment. The world felt far away, all that existed was him and you, the weight of his confession still settling in the space between you, the understanding, the desire.

When he finally pulled back, it was only enough for your lips to part, breaths mingling between you, your chest rising and falling as if you had just run a marathon. His forehead rested against yours, and his hands slid from your face to the small of your back, holding you steady as you both tried to catch your breath.

You were still tangled up in the magic of his kiss, in the rawness of this moment, where everything finally made sense. The world seemed to slow down as you both stood there, foreheads pressed together. The air between you was thick with something unspoken, your breaths were still heavy, your heart racing, but there was also a quiet sense of relief as if you’d both been holding your breath for the longest time.

Ben leaned in slightly, his smile playful yet soft, his gaze locking with yours as the quiet of the night settled around you. "You know," he said, his voice low and teasing, "for the first time, you’ve got me completely speechless."

You couldn’t help but giggle at the silliness of it all, the way he always knew just how to make you laugh, how to make everything feel lighter. The sound of your laugh made his gummy smile widen, and before he could say anything else, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, your heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the night or the streetlights around you. It was just him.

Everything felt right at that moment, the electricity in the air, the warmth of his touch, and the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. Maybe you and Ben didn't make much sense together to everyone else, but to the two of you, it was clear as day.

[campingwiththecharmings]

*These weren’t necessarily written and/or posted in June, but that’s when I read them 😊

(thanks for your patience with this y'all, i'm so sorry it took so long to post. working on getting july and august recs out as well ❤️)

🔥 - explicit/mature content

Star Wars

🔥For Your Entertainment (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Gardens of Babylon (Cowboy!Din Djarin x Cowgirl!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch (yes i'm rec-ing this again)

You Are in Love (Modern!Poe Dameron x Reader) - @alwritey-aphrodite (i will rec this every time i read a new chapter, try and stop meeee)

🔥Clandestine (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @the-little-ewok

🔥Good Morning (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @whirlybirbs

🔥favor (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

Rookie Mistake (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @groguspicklejar

🔥Never Before (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Moon Knight

🔥Prized Possession (Marc Spector x Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥The Best Kept Secrets - Marc's Story (dbf!Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Kisses on your lovers lap (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @sweetly-yours-and-mine

🔥Let Your Fingers to the Talking (Jake Lockley x F!Villain!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Spoiled Rotten (Marc Spector x Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Sprite: Savior (Marc Spector x forest nymph oc Nikini) - @spacecowboyhotch

Bubble Bath (Marc Spector x Reader) - @shewhohangsoutincemeteries

Domestic Fluff (Steven Grant x Housewife!Reader) - @xbellaxcarolinax

Fluff and Kisses with Marc (Marc Spector x Reader) - @sweetly-yours-and-mine

Her Hair Reminds Me of a Warm, Safe Place (Marc Spector x Layla El-Faouly) - @romanarose

🔥Forever Bittersweet (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Please (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

🔥take it (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥apology (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥willing to give (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @graysonshaven

🔥take my breath (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @whatthefishh

🔥burrowed under my skin (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @dameronscopilot

🔥Cállate (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @xbellaxcarolinax

🔥Impatient (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Little Bug (Yandere!Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Every You, Every Me (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @astroboots (i haven't finished this yet but i cannot recommend this fic enough)

🔥Soothe & Sleep (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Wandering Hands (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @loganlermanstanaccount

tousled, stubbled, tired (Miguel O'Hara x Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Virgin!Miguel w/a huge cock and fucks both of u dumb (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @xbellaxcarolinax

🔥Take It All (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @romanarose

🔥Make Me A Liar (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @groguspicklejar

🔥coming home (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

Triple Frontier

Blurring Out (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

Being Will's Girl Would Include (Will Miller x F!Reader) - @missdictatorme

🔥Look What the Cat Dragged In (Santiago Garcia x F!Thief!Reader) - @missdictatorme

For Better, For Worse (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @bullet-prooflove

The Last of Us

To the Rescue (Pre-Outbreak!Joel x F!Reader) - @romanarose

Waffle House penance (Joel Miller x F!Reader) - @softlyspector

Sucker Punch

🔥Needy Little Thing (Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

The Two Faces of January

🔥The Oxford Comma Series (Rydal Keener x F!Reader) - @whatthefishh (will never stop rec-ing this fic ❤️)

Ex Machina

🔥heavenly praises (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @leoluved

🔥old fashioned (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @leoluved

🔥chase and pull (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @leoluved

🔥indulge me (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @leoluved

Thank you to all the wonderful writers for sharing their stories with us 🥰❤️

*For more recs, please feel free to check out my fic rec tag.

**If you’d like to have your fic removed from the list, I completely understand, just let me know

[elleloquently]

i can’t explain how much i love your posts i-😭😭😭 they make me feel so safe and loved🥹

if u take requests, can i kindly request some headcanons with videogamer!ellie x reader!gf ?

thank u sm beauty!!💕💕💕💕💕

| a/n : i am so happy to hear that, that is so sweet!!! i'm so sorry this took so long, i'm rly behind on requests ): as a reader tho i adore this idea. modern au bc yay modern technology!

gamer!ellie with a reader!gf :

-having different interests definitely didn't keep either of you from spending time together. you would just do separate activities, together.

-if ellie was gaming you would always take the opportunity to read, and if you wanted to read then ellie would play something. you sorta correlated times that way someone wasn't feeling left out if you wanted to actively spend time together (ellie wouldn't want to see your pout when you saw her gaming while you were missing her lmao)

-if there was a game ellie was really into at the moment, she would def be guilty of surprising you with a book from your to read list so she could spend more time than usual playing ,,

-you are privy to her ways but you would certainly never complain about getting a new book !

-ellie always listens while you sit with your legs over her lap, ranting and raving about whichever book you're reading at the time.

-if you burn through books quickly she might get the side plots or characters mixed up, interrupting your rambles with a follow up question about a character that was definitely from like, three books ago.

"ellieeee," you would pretend to whine, though the look of interest crossed with confusion on her face made it difficult to stifle a giggle. "that was my last book, this one is different now."

"oh! right! but he did turn out to be bad, right?"

"yes. okay, anyway..."

-sometimes she gets distracted and loses or has to pause for awhile because she just likes . watching you. it's sweet, the way you look so peaceful with a book in your hands.

-ellie thinks it's funny when you mimic the facial expressions that you're reading about. rushes for her phone sometimes bc the faces you make while reading crack her tf up. you get so flustered when she shows you later but she absolutely adores the photos.

-especially if you're making an expression in regards to what is happening in the story. you're so quiet and ellie looks over to check on you, only to be met with your bewildered expression or a deep set frown. she'll pipe up and ask what's happening, grinning when you snap your book closed.

"oh my god," you start, leaning forward to clue her in.

-sometimes you find yourself rereading paragraphs over and over, finding it difficult to focus as your eyes wander to ellie instead.

-the look of concentration on her face... muttering and swearing under her breath... her hands.

!!!!!!!

-tugging ellie's hand in a book aisle at the store, pacing around the shelves with mumbles of "i promise i'm just looking, not buying any today"

-(ellie carries your books when you leave the store)

-displaying the same patience while she's browsing games, debating and comparing. you make sure to pay extra attention cause you love surprising her for special occasions.

-you try some of her games occasionally after much convincing on ellie's end. she's such a backseat gamer though and it ends with you either getting a lil grumpy or laughing too hard to take it seriously.

-she tries to find some low stakes, silly games so the two of you can play together. if there's a book you're really crazy about, you'll pass it on to ellie and she'll read it so you can have someone to discuss it with <3

[rosiehrs]

YOU DON'T KNOW MY NAME # 12. date night (half written)

word count ; 2.7k

a/n ; i literally havent studied so i will js give u guys this bcs its so awk and made me want to KMS. IRENE DO BETTER.

the volleyball player rushed into the restaurant, stating aeri’s name and being led inside. the kind man gestured towards a table - where a woman was sitting. you kindly thanked him and walked towards the table. the woman had her head down, eyes on her phone as she typed away. as you came closer, her features became clearer to you–immediately finding her familiar. two steps closer you finally realised who she was. 

“oh my god.” the cause of your delusions for months, the supposed ‘love of your life’, irene was right in front of you.

quickly pulling your phone out to share how you were likely going to kill your older friend later, you put it away just as quickly as you turned it off. right then, the woman in front of you took her eyes off of her phone and looked up at you, a stoic expression on her face. 

you never wanted to hide more than in this moment. the feeling of pure embarrassment and terror had taken over your body and you felt your limbs start to shake. she raised her eyebrows at you, almost as if she was saying, ‘what are you waiting for?��

“i’m sorry, i–uh, think i’m at the wrong table..” you spoke, beginning to walk away until she spoke up. “no, y/n, you’ve got it right. please sit down.” 

you felt your knees start to give up on you as you heard your name roll off of her tongue. if you were being honest, you could count how many times you’ve heard irene’s voice on one hand. she never posted videos of herself talking online, but her friends would post some content from occasional hangouts where they posted videos where you could hear her speak in the background. you turned around, hesitantly sitting down across her. 

she turned her phone off and placed it on the table, facing down. you quickly followed suit, gulping due to the nerves you felt.

you sat down in silence, not having the nerve to move or say anything. irene simply stared at you, waiting for your extroverted ways to shine through–but you didn’t say anything. 

irene’s irritation was increasing and her patience was running out. you were half an hour late for a date she didn’t even want to go on. and to add onto that–you weren’t even making an effort to speak to her.

“..are you okay?” irene asked after a few more minutes of silence.

“uh.. yeah. i am so fucking sorry, i promise i tried to get here on time, but my coach went on and on after we won and it wasn't even a close run but he was still on ours asses but i swear i got here as soon as i could. and i'm so fucking sorry for making you wait this long. i know you wanted to leave, i would too. and i'm so sorry.”

hearing your apology, irene dropped her stern face. the negative feelings she already had towards you had begun to disperse and was replaced with sympathy. in the back of her head, of course she was still frustrated–however she felt it was only right for her to comfort you instead of making you feel worse when you’re clearly already beating yourself up for it.

softly, she replies, “it’s fine. things happen, congrats on your win by the way.”

letting out a small laugh, you sent her a sheepish smile. “thank you so much, but i really hope you know how sorry i feel.”

“i do, don’t worry.”

“'yeah.. i'm y/n by the way. but you already know that.. how do you already know that?”

“ah.. my friend slipped it out by accident.” she lies. 

“i see.. i didn't quite catch your name though, i'm sorry.”

you missed the way a small smirk formed on the older girl’s face, clearly amused by your question - however she appreciated how you pretended not to know who she was.

reaching her hand out to shake your hand, “i'm irene, nice to meet you.”

the waiter then passed by, asking if you were ready to order. irene nodded, gesturing for you to order first. you read the first thing you laid your eyes on, not wanting to make her wait. she showed you a small smile, “take your time.” you nodded at her and finalised your order, straightening your back. she then read out her order, the man asking about your drinks right after. 

“i’ll just have some tonic water, please.” you replied, staring down at the menu. “and you, ma’am?” he asked. “just a glass of white, please. i’m not picky.” he nodded at the both of you and dashed towards the kitchen.

“you don’t drink?” irene asked, causing you to look up at her. “oh, i do–i just don’t want any liquid courage in case i end up doing or saying anything stupid.” you explained, making her smile softly. “i see..”

awkwardness lingered in the air, and she noticed how tense you were. the way you fiddled with your fingers, the way you couldn’t meet her eyes. “are you okay?”

“..yeah.”

your food came and you had to suffer through painful small talk. you tried to make flirty and funny comments every now and then, but she never seemed too amused–the expression on her face never changing.

you excused yourself halfway through your dinner, rushing to the washroom. you shut the door and stared at yourself in the mirror. “what the fuck.” you whispered to yourself. 

you did not know how to talk to her. the hundreds of people you speak to on a daily basis did not and could not have prepared you for this very moment. you just melted under her gaze, and you could feel that she did not like you very much. she smiled and laughed with you quite a bit in the beginning and you were now realising that she was just being polite. but as she spent more time with you, the politeness had run out and she did not show you any signs of interest. repetitive nods and hums, replying with short and quick sentences. 

you took your phone out, needing to express your situation to your friends.

you took one last look in the mirror and took a deep breath. “you can do this, and you can forget that this ever happened! just for your sanity!” you spoke to yourself, fixing how you looked and stepping back outside.

you saw irene typing away on her phone and you immediately felt the nerves come back. she was definitely texting her friends about how badly this was going. you hadn’t even finished your meal yet, but you seriously wanted to go home and cry. she saw you returning, quickly turning her phone off and placing it on the table. “you alright?” she asked, eyes searching yours.

“yes, yes! don’t worry.” you replied as you sat down. you took a sip of your drink and saw that she was staring at you. you met her eyes and felt your heart start to race. you quickly broke eye contact and continued to eat your food.

after a few seconds of silence, you remembered what aeri said about irene being older than you. “oh, if it’s not rude of me.. may i ask you something?”

“sure, y/n.” 

“how.. old are you? i’m turning 21 soon.”

“oh..” irene knew this question would come up at least once tonight. and it wasn’t that she was insecure about her age–she was just worried about how you’d react. because although your ‘date’ had only started and she insisted that she did not like you, something in her did not want to drive you away. but of course, she wouldn’t admit that. 

you immediately stepped in before she could answer. “you don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable, of course! it’s just that my friend said that you’d be older than me by quite a bit and i really don’t believe her.”

she blushed at your sleek compliment, nodding. “no, it’s alright. i am older than you by quite a bit actually..”

you looked at her expectantly, truly expecting her to say a number between 23 and 27.

“i’m 32.”

your eyes had widened so much that irene thought your eyes were going to pop out. “really?” you asked, making her nod shyly. “i’m sorry, i don’t want to seem rude. it’s just that you look so young. but obviously i’m not saying you’re old, i’m just saying that you look like you’d be in the year above me.”

irene laughed at your rambling, showing you that she understood what you were trying to say. “thank you, y/n. hopefully this doesn’t change how you see me.”

“not at all!” you assured, waving your hands. ‘i like older women anyway.’ you wanted to say, but you knew she wouldn’t catch the tone in your voice that indicated that you were joking. and maybe then she’d really think you were calling her old.

you hoped that with time, the air would grow less awkward and maybe, just maybe–she’d show a little bit of interest. but much to your dismay, irene’s brief hums and fake laughs continued to shoot at you.

you needed to go home, you needed to call gaeul and cry to her about how embarrassing this whole thing was even though you knew the girl would only make fun of you. once you finished your meals, you were left with your drinks–irene was on her second glass of wine, and you had ordered another club soda.

“...”

irene looked up at you and felt the slightest bit bad. she was making this whole thing awkward because she wasn’t interested in you and she clearly saw how down you seemed. “so y/n, what do you like doing in your free time?”

“oh, uh.. i like painting. i’m not very good at it, but i think it’s pretty fun. i guess you could call my work abstract painting.” you joked awkwardly, receiving a small laugh. “i see..”

“what about you? what do you.. what do you do?”

“y/n, i know you know who i am.”

you tensed up hearing her words, worrying about whether or not she knew about your dms and your replies to her tweets. “ah.. yeah, i guess i’m a fan of yours. i wanted to make it seem like a normal first date instead of a fan meeting, i apologise.”

“no, don’t apologise. i appreciate it, really.”

“...but what do you really do in your free time? you know, when you’re not working.”

“ah,” she paused, staring down at her plate. should she open up to you? it’s a brief thing, you’re only asking about her hobbies yet she felt extremely conflicted as to whether or not telling you was a good idea.

“i.. i like going on walks.”

that’s a lie. joohyun hates going on walks.

“oh, i see. that’s pretty relaxing.”

she hummed, swirling her wine. that was it, when she finished her drink–you were going to go home.

“you want anything more?” irene asked. placing her empty glass down. you shook your head politely causing her to sign for the bill. as the waiter came with the check, you immediately took your card out, waiting to hand it over.

irene stared at you as if you had done something stupid. “what are you doing?”

“what do you mean?”

she looked down at your hand and gestured to it. “that, what do you think you’re doing?” you squinted your eyes at her, clearly confused as to what she was talking about. she then took her card out of her wallet, immediately placing it on top of the bill holder. 

“woah, hey. don’t be absurd, i made you wait–it’s only right that i pay.”

“that doesn’t matter, i should pay.”

“no, you shouldn’t? don’t be silly.” you placed her card in front of her and placed yours down. “hey, i’m paying, y/n.” you scowled at her in a playful manner, shaking your head. “unnie, please. just let me. think of it as my way of apologising.”

“no, and as you just said–i’m older than you. so you should listen to me and let me pay.”

“using your age against me will not make me let you pay.”

“uh.. would you like me to come back?” the waiter asked, feeling incredibly awkward. irene shook her head, shoving her card into his hands. “no, please. put it on this card.”

you handed him yours too, insisting to use yours instead. “i’ll.. i’ll just–i’ll be right back.” he said, the bill and your cards in his hands.

“unnie, you’re incredibly stubborn.”

“not more than you.”

then awkward filled the air once again. the waiter came back, handing you your cards back with a receipt. “have a good night, ladies.” and took his leave. 

“whose did he take it off of?” you asked as she looked down at it. she smiled in victory, putting her things away. “are you serious?” you asked, feeling extremely guilty.

“y/n, please. don’t worry about it. it’s a date, that was my treat.” she assured, looking up at you with a smile. you hesitantly nodded your head at her and placed your things in your purse. “thank you, unnie.” 

she paused, looking back up at you. “you’re welcome, y/n.”

the both of you started making your way out of the restaurant, taking a small stroll down the street. once again, neither of you said anything. you wished you could say it was a comfortable silence, but in the moment you wished someone had pushed you into the road.

“i, uh–it’s getting late. we should probably start getting home.” you suggested, slowing down. she hummed, stopping when you did. “how’d you get here?” she asked.

“i took an uber here.”  you replied.

“should i drive you home?” she asked, causing your eyes to widen. “oh, nonono. it’s alright, don’t worry. i don’t want to trouble you.”

“seriously, it’s fine. i’d rather get you home safely.” she insisted with a neutral face. you really just wanted to get into an uber and cry, not have the person you’ve been admiring drive you home (as much as you really did want her to).

“unnie, it’s fine, seriously. i’ll just call one now.” you replied. “thank you though.”

“alright.” she said. you expected her to say goodnight and walk off, but instead she stayed. “i’ll wait for your ride to get here.” 

“oh, unnie, it’s fine. i don’t want to take any more of your time.” you replied, embarrassment clear in your voice. “it’s alright, y/n.” she simply said, sitting down on the nearest bench. you hesitantly followed suit and sat down next to her. you pulled your phone up, eager to get a ride home.

the both of you sat there in silence, waiting. 

unexpectedly enough, she was the one to break it. “i’m sorry for being awkward tonight, y/n. i’m not really good with people.” an apology? you didn’t expect her to apologise. she shouldn’t have to apologise.

“don’t worry about it, unnie. i’m sorry for being awkward, too. i’m usually less.. tense.” she mumbled, saying something along the lines of it was okay.

your ride came shortly after, the both of you standing up as it stopped in front of you. “i, uh– thank you for tonight, irene unnie.”

“thank you, too, y/n. i had a nice time.”

‘she’s lying through her teeth’, you thought.

“me too,” you replied politely. “uh, well. goodnight, get home safely.”

“you, too. goodnight.”

you then got into the car, making sure it was yours. you kept your head down as your uber drove away, and when you were finally out of sight–you burst out crying. you’d never felt so defeated and embarrassed in your life, not even when you lost against hanyang during one of your most anticipated games of the year. 

when you got home, you rushed to your room and just cried more. the feeling in your chest hadn’t left and wasn’t dissipating in the slightest. your friends blew up your phone, but you continued to dwell on the events that occurred earlier tonight.

another ding echoed around your room, causing you to quickly glance at it. expecting aeri or gaeul, you were extremely shocked to see who had sent you a text.

previous | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ⤻ irene was a private influencer and y/n was an avid follower. you were extremely open about your admiration for the older girl. like every other fangirl, you want her to notice you – but she doesn't know your name. (and you don't know hers)

tag list (closed) ; @winieter @silantryoo @luvjanexx @perfectsunlight @pandamiswifey @jeindall777 @jimanie @sapphicmemos @slowlydifferentbluebird @jjuncidio @awkwardtoafault @gfriendsapple @cwpiqwon @nasyu-kookies @justme-idle @mightymyo @writingficsblog @archerheejin @yoontoonwhs @jenscx @captivq @ddeulgiheree @urfriendlylocalidiot @juhyunsthirdwife @eccobe @uzumakioden @dni-unavailable @jisooftme @pandafuriosa60 @ehcyps @wiinvrs @eunhhh @lyninabin @sewiouslyz @ryujinbrat @edamboon @ky-yk @orchestralbeats @ludasgf @blooming--warrior @blue4hour @djoenjoyer1

[whiteteadreams]

Hello~ I really enjoy your fics and wanted to request a Wonho one. Maybe something where he is more submissive x gn/male reader- only if u feel comfortable. Thank you in advance 🩷🫶

Untitled (for now)

Pairing: Lee Wonho x GN Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre: Idol AU, Established Relationship

Warnings: smut, mature language/cursing, reader slut shames wonho (ITS SEXY), reader calls fans whores, aftercare because it's important!!

Smut Warnings: Degradation, reader uses wonho, face slapping once, dumbification, objectification, overstimulation, anal sex

a/n-i am so sorry that this took as long as it did. but here it is! i hope the wait was at least semi-worth it. i truly did some research so i didn't make my writing too feminine, (IT SHOWS I CARE!) unfortunately i'm not too proud of this work but it may be bc this is my first time intentionally writing gn reader or bc it actually ass sucks lolz. AGAIN, I AM SO SORRY!!!!!

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Awaiting his arrival, you sat on the plush couch in your shared apartment. Fuming, you tapped your foot on the floor, reminding yourself to calm down. It really wasn’t that big of a deal, he was yours, they were just fans behind screens. But still, them thirsting over your lover, was something that tested your patience. 

From the photo he posted you could tell he was almost done. His muscles bulged from use, sweat dripped down his face and neck, and the towel wrapped around the back of his neck. It shouldn’t take him too long until he was back where he belonged, with you. 

whorerat: OMG HIS THIGHS

jenosslut: nah, i can make him sweat

(s)creamingg: my manssssssssss

They were harmless and you knew that. He himself had reminded you. But as you scrolled through the comments of fans lusting after Wonho, your anger grew.

Your eyes snapped from your phone and to the door once you heard his car pull into the driveway. Getting up, you walked to the door, unlocking it and having your hand on the knob. Hearing the storm door open, you turned the handle and swung the door open, scaring him.

Ignoring his shrill shout and wide eyes, you jabbed your pointer finger at his broad, sweaty chest.

“You’re such a slut!” Wonho’s ears burned at your accusation and he caught on quickly but the color remained.

“Oh! You liked my post?” He threw you a lopsided smile and walked towards, lightly pushing past you and inside the house. 

“Of course, I liked it! You’re my boyfriend! But it seems like I wasn’t the only one who liked it.” Wonho didn’t take your annoyance to heart, he found it endearing.

“You know…your opinion is the only one I care about.” 

“Hmph.” Still, his answer didn’t satisfy you. 

“Seems like I’m going to have to remind you who you belong to.” 

Wonho was taken back by your voice, which had turned dark, husky almost. He turned around to question your intentions but was given an answer immediately when you pushed him backwards and onto the couch. 

“Now, what was your motive with this? What made you decide to post a photo of you shirtless, legs spread in front of a mirror, with sweat dripping down your entire body? You’re telling me that you didn’t post that because the attention makes your dick drip?” 

“I did it, because I wanted you to do this…”

Instead of even addressing his confession, you just laughed, causing the color in his ears to deepen.

Stepping closer to his figure on the couch, you bent down to plant a sweet kiss on his lips to let him know that you weren’t actually mad at him. You could feel his once tense body release said tension, and he was able to truly enjoy what was coming next.

Without interrupting your kiss, you swung your leg around his thigh before repeating the action on the other side.

“Please, please, just touch me. Do something, please.” Wonho hid his face in your neck. He was too embarrassed to look at you but still knew what he wanted, you.

Teasing your fingers up the inside of his thigh, you could feel the muscles hidden underneath his skin tense at your touch. 

“How am I supposed to help you if I can’t even touch you properly?” Faking ignorance, you moved your head, forcing Wonho to look at you. 

The color in his face has yet to drain but eagerly, he nodded and lifted his hips. Once his ass was lifted off the couch, he grabbed the hem of his shorts and boxers, pulling both off his hips all in one go. 

Sitting back down, Wonho looked at you, anticipating your next move. 

“Hard already? I haven’t even done anything yet. Maybe slutting yourself out just gets you off, huh?” HIs eyes widened and he was quick to deny your allegation. 

“M-no! Just you, I wanted you to see!” It was pathetic really. How nervous he was, was absolutely pathetic. When he walked through the door, his sweat from his work out had chilled into his skin, but now, new beads were forming at his hairline from the sheer nervousness that was coursing through his veins. 

“Aw, how sweet. Wonho got all hard at the thought of slutting himself out to me.” Words dripped with a sweet poison from your lips and he wanted nothing more to catch the drops before they fell too far. 

“It would be such a shame if I were to leave you like this, but I guess not, you have all your whores in your comment sections thirsting after you.” Wonho knew you’d give him what he wanted, you always did, but not before making him suffer first, but the fear in the back of his head that today may be the day you make him take care of himself still nipped at his thoughts.

“No, I just want you please! No one else can touch me like you!”

“No one else can touch you period!”

“Yeah, no one else!” He was slurring his words at this point/ Saliva was overflowing from his mouth, causing him to drool all over himself.

“But, because of what you did, I’m gonna treat you like what you truly are. Just a useless dildo made for my pleasure.:

Wonho held no objections, he spread his thighs apart so you could use him to his full potential. That fear of you leaving him untouched lodged in his throat once more as you walked away suddenly towards your shared room. Now with you out of his sight and him knowing better than to get up without your permission, he relied on his hearing for any hints on what you were doing. It didn’t help much as he just heard you rummaging through what he assumed to be a drawer. 

Soon the noise stopped and you entered his sight, trying to see what had changed, Wonho looked at you up and down only to be met with confusion. Your clothes were still as you left them but your right hand was clutched around something, hiding it from his view. 

“Oh don’t worry, I just got some lube so it’s easier for me to use that stupid cock. Maybe that’s why it’s so big, because you’re so dumb…gotta make up for your flaws somewhere I suppose.” 

So lost in desperation, Wonho blindly nodded. You doubted he actually knew what you were talking about which caused you to laugh at him. 

“Please, just touch me, I need you. Just use me!”

”At least you know exactly what I’m going to do.” Hooking your fingers in the waistband of your sweats and briefs, you pulled them down in one go and stalked towards the giant trembling man at your use. 

Without exchanging any words, you popped the cap of the lube off and squeezed a dollop out onto two of your fingers. Moving those fingers back to your rim, you fingered your hole on top of Wonho, letting out exaggerated moans to get the point of you not needing him across. When his whimpers picked up from you rolling your hips into his, you stopped your little show and decided to get the real attraction going. 

Pulling your fingers out of yourself you squeezed another dollop of lube onto them, this time you used it on Wonho, wrapping your hand around his cock, you moved the lube up and down, squeezing his dick harder than necessary. When Wonho jerked up in your hand, rushing your pace, you used your free hand and brought it across his cheek harshly.

“Quit thinking with your fucking dick.” Shocked by your slap, Wonho nodded without making eye contact, as this was uncharacteristic of him, you were slightly worried, that was until you felt his dick throb in your hand.

“You’re a little pain slut, aren’t you?” He nodded more confidently which made you think he wanted you to hit him again, but you didn’t give him that satisfaction and instead of that sharp stinging feeling, he was granted the feeling of you sinking down onto his dick. 

Tightly closing his eyes, Wonho gasped at the sudden feeling. You could see him fist the couch fabric and try to adjust to you.

Like the good boy he is, Wonho kept his hands to himself, keeping those hands at his sides, he let you use him like you wanted.

Bouncing up and down on his dick, you changed your pace when you could feel him start to buck up into you. There were several times that you had to actually lift off of him as he got too close to the edge before you allowed him to. Looking down at his cock, it strained, trying to find some friction that would allow him to finish. 

“I didn’t say you could cum Wonho…”

Closing his eyes in what you could only assume as concentration, he nodded and you slid back down onto him. But before you could even move, you felt your hole fill with his cum. 

“Are you serious? You were being so good?” 

Not even letting him respond, you went ahead and started going again. Ignoring his whimpers and pleas to stop, you giggled and tweaked his nipples.

“I told you I was going to use you; it isn’t my fault that you didn’t listen to me or wait. This is just what you get.”

Moans continued to roll off his tongue, and with how loud he was getting, you were worried the neighbors would hear and complain. Connecting your lips as one, you swallowed all of Wonho’s moans as your own since you were the cause. 

When Wonho’s hands moved from his sides to yours, you didn’t complain. He pulled you closer to his chest, needing something to secure him as he was getting close again. 

“Please, I need to cum again.”

“Wait so we can finish together.” Finally, he listened for once. 

His grip tightened drastically, you knew that in the morning, there would be Wonho finger shaped bruises decorating your skin. Clenching down on him, you moved faster, trying to catch up with Wonho so you could make good of your suggestion. 

“Fuck, almost there Wonho, hold it.”

Your movements were sloppy, quick and with a purpose. It took only a couple more rolls of your hips before the both of you were coming undone. 

You felt your cum shoot out and when you looked at its landing place, it was all over Wonho’s abs. And his cum just added another layer to your walls. 

Heavy breathing and sweaty skin sliding together was the only thing you could pay attention to. The feeling and sounds of Wonho fogged your mind and when you looked at him, it was obvious he felt a similar way.

“You did so well. Let’s get you cleaned up okay?” Wonho nodded and allowed you to pull him up and off the couch. He followed your lead to the bathroom and watched you set up a bath for him, even adding bath salt to help with his post workout muscles. 

“Alright Wonho, it’s warm enough, let’s get in okay?” Your voice was back to its soft and quiet nature. 

“You’re not actually mad at me right? By posting the picture and everything?”

“Of course, I’m not mad! You’re hot and I love that you know that I just gotta show you who you belong to every now and then.”

[ja3mln]

hi can u do renjun e2l fluff when he sees u get hurt please!

cw: gn reader, fluff, wound, mention of blood (only once), e2l au

words: 585

a/n: it's my first time writing e2l so it's not rly good im sorry😭 hope u like it!

requests open!

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you love your little summer job as a bartender in a cute, small coffee shop. no, the job really isn't the problem. your coworker, though, is another story. working with renjun is exhausting—his mean comments, leaving you to do all the dirty work, and mocking you whenever he gets the chance. nevertheless, you've learned to ignore all of this because it's just a summer job, and it will be over in two months. that's what you tell yourself every day.

today was different, though; you had a long and exhausting day. it was just one of those bad days that happen. you started your shift pretty late but tried your best to serve clients with patience. the thing is, today, renjun has the same shift as you, and just hearing his irritating voice makes you want to quit on the spot. but you hold on.

as the hours pass, you find yourself getting more and more tired, and renjun's comments surely do not help. it's as if he enjoys seeing you suffer. it was a busy night. you're used to rushes and know how to manage them, but today, you were just too mentally and physically exhausted. as you hastily carry a tray filled with drinks, you stumble on your own foot, causing the tray to tip dangerously. in a reflex, you try to steady the tray, but in doing so, a shard from a broken glass pierces your palm. "fuck," you whisper a bit too loud because you hear footsteps coming your way. but you just stand here, looking at your bloody hand and feeling your eyes getting watery. you don't even know if it's because of the pain or because today wasn't your day and you couldn't take it anymore.

too deep in your thoughts, you didn't notice renjun standing besides you, holding your hand and looking at you with a hint of worry in his expression. "shit, are you okay?" he asks, and you can hear panic in his voice. you don't even have the strength to answer or fight back and just let him bring you to the staff room to get the aid kit. you just sit there, renjun holding your hand and trying to take care of it, and you can't do anything but watch him and try to collect yourself.

"i'm... i'm sorry," he mumbles after a long silence, while his shaky hands clean the wounds. you look at him, a bit surprised by his words and looking for any sarcasm, but he's avoiding eye contact. you totally forget to answer for a minute, and he looks at you, a bit hesitant and ashamed. "you're what?" your voice is shaky because of the pain but also the tiredness.

"i'm sorry, okay? i'm sorry for being such a jerk," he says more clearly, and you can't help but laugh, you don't even know why. renjun looks at you, confused, and he lets go of your now bandaged hand. "thank you" you say softly, and you don't know if you're thanking him for the bandage or for the apologies. maybe both. he just nods, a bit confused by the situation, but when he sees a small smile appearing on your lips, he smiles back at you.

since that day, renjun has been nicer to you. it took some time for you both to get along, but it was way better than before. renjun tries to help you more often, sharing the dirty work with you, and you both even have small talks. the summer is almost over, and renjun was getting more and more fond of you. he was just waiting for the right time to ask you out.

[sunshinevanfleet]

the dress - s. kiszka

pairing: sam x reader

a/n: heyo! i have been so absent here lately i'm sorry!! i have a lot going on with work and have been dealing with the absolute worst writers' block. it took me forever to write this because my brain is just?!?! not working lol. i have like 0 inspiration. anyways, i'm here to feed the sammy girls and decided to write this. it's unedited so if there are any mistakes i'm sorry! ok love u<3

genre: smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

word count: 2.9k

summary: the reader decides to wear sam's favorite sundress around the house. he can't resist the temptation.

warnings: explicit sex scenes, oral (m + f receiving), riding, etc.

A gentle breeze cooled your skin, the late afternoon sun finally beginning to sink behind the horizon. Your bare feet swished through the long grass of your backyard, the blades tickling your ankles as you padded back towards the house. There was a basket of flowers perched in your arm, picked precariously in order to adorn the center of your kitchen table. You were so excited– you and Sam had finally bought your own place–a house, at that–and you were spending every second you could perfecting each detail inside. These wildflowers, straight from the field behind your house, were going to be the perfect centerpiece to your antique kitchen table. 

Beads of sweat pooled on the nape of your neck and your shoulders; you spent the entire day outside, first planting your very own garden, then hanging fairy lights and curtains around the patio, organizing the furniture, and finally picking the flowers. While Sam was at the studio, you forced yourself to stay busy. You only had so many days left off of work, and you wanted to get each tiny detail right while you had the chance. Luckily, Sam was privy to your vision. When he was home, he was your special helper, allowing you to boss him around and make your dreams come true.

You smiled at the thought; he was being such a good sport. You reminded yourself to thank him for everything. His patience, his help, and most of all his willingness to make this place your forever home, at any cost. 

“Honey, I’m home,” his voice rang from the back porch, as if on cue, and your smile widened. You’d been waiting for his return all day; you missed spending every second of the day with him. Admittedly, you were a bit grouchy whenever he announced to you a few days before that he would have to return to the studio. The band was working on big things, and you knew they needed him. You tried your hardest not to pout at the fact that you had to share him. 

“Hi,” you greeted, dropping your fresh flowers on the porch as you approached him. You snaked your arms around his neck, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. “Missed you.”

“I missed you,” he mumbled against your lips. One of his hands snaked down your waist, over the curve of your ass, and gave it a firm squeeze. The fabric of your dress bunched up in his hand, and you giggled into the kiss.

“Watch yourself, Sammy,” you said, swatting his hand as you pulled away. “I’ve got interior design on the mind right now.”

He laughed, padding back into the house behind you as you brought your spoils inside. “I’ve got other things on my mind,” he mumbled, pressing against you from behind. He pinned your hips against the kitchen table with his breath ghosting over your neck. One of his hands trailed up your arm, fingertips brushing the skin gently before he slipped the tiny strap of your dress down over your shoulder. His calloused fingertips trailed over the sensitive skin of your clavicle, tracing down until it ghosted over your hardened nipple through the material of the dress.

A shaky breath came from your lips, and you pressed back against him. Your core throbbed as you felt his hard bulge pressing against you from behind.

“What’s got you all worked up?” you mused, breathless. Your eyes were closed, taking in the feeling of his warm body melding against yours. He held you in his strong arms, one hand pressed against your stomach and the other caressing your clothed nipple in tiny circles. A shiver trickled down your spine. 

You felt his smile against your neck, his teeth dragging against your skin gently. “It’s this dress,” he grasped the fabric, bunching it in his hand and slowly pulling it up. Goosebumps prickled your skin as he lifted the hem, exposing your bare legs inch by inch. “My favorite dress…”

“Can you let me finish what I’m doing, at least?” you asked, unable to mask the amusement in your tone. 

“I’m not stopping you,” he said innocently. 

“No, but you’re distracting me,” you gasped as he hiked the dress completely up. He placed a hand on your lower back, and pushed you forward over the table.

His other hand trailed over your bare ass, kneading the skin. “No panties?” You felt his breath fan over your core as he spoke, and you tensed. Your center clenched around nothing, and a smug chuckle tumbled from his lips. 

“Sammy–”

“Dirty girl,” he said. One finger dipped through your folds, spreading your juices around. He was taking his time, making your body tense as he barely touched you. “You’ve been waiting for me to come home and fill you up all day, haven’t you, pretty?”

You bit down on your lip, nodding at his words. It had been in the back of your mind all day; you knew he loved seeing you in sundresses, especially the little white and pink floral number you had on today. It was his favorite, especially paired with no undergarments. It drove him wild. 

“Words, please,” he mused, pushing a finger inside of you.

“Ah,” you squeaked, “yes, I’ve been waiting for you all day, Sammy.”

“There’s my good girl.” He curled his finger inside of you, just barely brushing against your sweet spot. You braced your hands against the table, wishing you had something to hold onto, something other than your precious table to dig your fingernails into. Strangled breaths left your lips as he touched you with impossible patience.

He already had you mewling and moaning softly with pleasure, your body tensed over the table. His fingers knew just how to work your body, all of the spots that made you cry out and see stars. But, he wasn’t going to let you off so easily. Where was the fun in giving you exactly what you wanted? His fingers were soon slipping out of you, strings of your arousal lingering on his hand as he pulled away. You opened your mouth to protest, but he was quick to make you whine in pleasure. His mouth replaced his fingers, tongue delving into your pussy. He licked into you, his tongue dragging through your folds in long, slow strokes. Obscene sounds emerged from you, ringing through the empty house. One of his thumbs found your clit, rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves as he worked you towards your release.

The metaphorical coil in your stomach began to tighten, your mind gone blank from everything except the feeling of him devouring you from behind. Your thighs trembled, his free hand having come down to hold your legs open for him. Ecstasy clouded your vision, the intensity of his tongue fucking you only growing stronger by the second.

“Sammy, I’m gonna cum– fuck, it’s so good…” you trailed, unable to form another word as your vision began to glaze over. Heat bloomed throughout your entire body, your limbs seeming to vibrate with the pleasure bursting between your legs. You were unable to move, a willing victim to the waves of bliss crashing over you, drowning all of your senses. Your throat was going hoarse with the cries of his name, your walls clenching around his tongue as he guided you through your orgasm. Another layer of sweat shimmered on your skin as he finally pulled away, hooking an arm around your stomach to turn you around.

He kissed you, his mouth and chin still coated in your release. You moaned at the taste of yourself, slightly tangy on your tongue. He grasped your face, his tongue delving in between your parted lips. You pressed yourself closer to him, grinding your center against his clothed bulge. He groaned against your lips, finally pulling away and meeting your glassy eyes.

“Want me to fill you up, sweet girl?” he asked, grinning. “So eager… You can’t get enough of me, can you?”

“Never,” you replied. You leaned in again, pressing your lips together desperately. You nipped at his bottom lip, swollen as you worked your mouths together for another second. Your chests heaved together, the both of you panting and worked up. “I need you,” you sighed as you finally parted, your foreheads touching.

“You can have me,” he said, “Take what you need, baby.”

Swiftly, you pushed one of the chairs away from the table. He took the hint, taking a seat with his legs spread wide. His bulge strained painfully against the thin fabric of his shorts, the outline of it making your mouth water as you admired him. You kneeled before him, hands trailing up his thighs, massaging the skin gently. His cock twitched in his shorts, a wet spot blooming from the tip and staining the fabric. A mischievous grin found your face. You pressed your lips against the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, kissing and biting gently.

“God, you look so pretty on your knees,” he muttered, eyes following your every movement as you teased him. You smiled up at him, meeting his gaze through your lashes as you gathered saliva in your mouth and spit into your hand. You pushed your hand beneath the waistband of his shorts, and closed your fist around his length. A strangled moan tore from his lips as you stroked him with the faintest pressure. He throbbed in your grip, hips stuttering at your touch as you barely squeezed the tip of his cock in your hand.

“Fuck, Y/N, please,” he groaned. His dark eyes were hooded as he stared down at you. His lip was caught between his teeth, brows furrowed in an expression that was so beautiful and desperate that your walls clenched around nothing. The tiny whimpers falling from his lips were music to your ears, making your neck and ears flush hot as you watched him melt at your touch.

“Please?” you looked up at him, a teasing smile on your face. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and his eyes rolled back in his head at the sight of it. 

He groaned, hips rolling up into your touch. His thighs trembled under your hand, holding them still. You tightened your grip around him. Slowly, you dragged your fist up from the base of his cock to the head, your thumb massaging the ridge just below the tip. An unrestrained moan burst from his chest, high-pitched and mouthwatering. 

“My poor Sammy,” you soothed, your free hand rubbing his thigh gently. “Can’t find the words, can you?” His cheeks flushed pink at your teasing, one hand running through his hair whilst he stared at you expectantly. He didn’t dare look away, little pants coming from his parted lips. Sweat beaded on his forehead. 

You batted your lashes at him as you leaned up, perched prettily on your knees. You trailed your hand up from his thigh to the waistband of his shorts. A second later, they were off, flung to some forgotten corner across the room. His cock sprung up against his stomach, the slick sight of it making your head spin. The tip was an angry shade of red, twitching as you teased it with your fingertips. Sam’s hips jerked, and his hands gripped the sides of the chair so hard that his knuckles had gone white.

“So eager for me, hmm?” you mused, blinking up at him.

He nodded, swallowing hard as he followed your eyes. Gently, your tongue darted out, tiny kitten licks against the head of his cock. He breathed sharply, the muscles in his legs clenching beneath your hands. “You’re torturing me, baby,” he groaned, every fiber in his being struggling not to grab you by the hair and fuck your face. Not that you would have minded.

You pouted, wrinkling your brow as you looked up at him. “I thought you liked it when I did this?” you asked, feigning innocence as you wrapped your lips around the swollen head of his cock. You swirled your tongue, the salty taste of him blooming in your mouth. 

“Fuck–” his voice was choked by the sound of his own moaning, ringing so needily through your big, empty house. “Fuck, can I touch you, please?”

You nodded, mouth bobbing around him as you did so. Without hesitation, one of his large hands gathered your hair into his fist, gently guiding your mouth as you sucked him off. A hum rumbled from your throat. The vibrations sent a tremor through his lower body, his hips rocking into your mouth enough for his cock to brush the back of your throat. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you pushed down onto him, taking him even further in your mouth.

“Oh, you look so pretty, sweet girl,” he groaned, now rolling his hips into your mouth freely. He reached down to brush the tears off of your cheeks, loving the sight of you taking him so well in your mouth. He guided your pace on his cock, fingers cupping your cheek. Your hands held onto his thighs, nails pressing into the skin as he quickened your pace. 

He was close, you could tell by the higher pitch of his moans and the trembling in the muscles of his lower body. At that indication, you swirled your tongue more aggressively. His cock throbbed in your mouth and he hissed, the fingers tangled in your hair pulling you away. Strings of saliva dripped over your mouth and chin as you pulled away, mixing with the tears that were streaming down your face.

“As much as I want to cum on this pretty face, princess,” he ran a thumb over the mess on your swollen lips, “I need you to ride me in this dress…”

You grinned, licking some of the mess off of your lips as you stood. You spread your legs, straddling him in the chair. Arousal slicked your inner thighs, making a mess of the both of you as you reached down to position his cock at your entrance. He breathed sharply through his nostrils as you brushed the head between your folds, the heat driving him mad. A low sigh broke from your mouth as you sank down onto him, throwing your head back.

“God, you’re fucking tight–” Sam hissed. His hands brushed up your thighs, bunching your skirt up over your hips as he stared at himself entering you. His eyes followed the slick of your pussy sliding up and down on his cock, all of your juices pooling on his thighs. “Look at that pretty pussy taking me so well,” he sighed, lips parted as he panted.

You followed his gaze, your walls fluttering around him at the lewd sight. His fingertips dug into the skin of your hips as he helped to guide you, your pace steady as you fucked him. Already sensitive, his cock stretched your walls open, brushing your sweet spot unrelentingly. You rolled your hips against him, relishing in the feeling of him dragging against your insides. Pleasure tightened the muscles of your stomach, to the point where you were almost sore. 

“I’m- I’m gonna cum–” you managed to stutter out, leaning forward to press your lips against his gently. He smiled against you, nodding as he pulled you closer to him. He was doing all of the work at this point, his strong grasp helping you lift off of him and sink back down over and over again. 

“Go ahead, sweet girl,” he coaxed, still holding your hips. “Make a mess for me, baby. All over my cock.”

A second wind seemed to find you, and you rocked desperately against him. You chased your orgasm, that delicious high washing over you in intense waves. Your legs cramped, but you refused to stop. His cockhead brushed against your sweet spot over and over, your head swimming as you continued your ministrations. His hunger for you mirrored your own, and you felt his hips twitching as his release washed over him. The feeling of his release spreading inside of you sent you over the edge, your mind tumbling into bliss as you rolled against him without abandon.

“Ah, fuck, baby–” his voice was muffled, shrouded by the ecstasy overtaking your senses. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good, milking my cock like that…”

A sound, half-moan, half-scream tore its way out of your throat as you reached the peak of your high. Your eyes rolled back in your head, barely aware of the feeling of him kissing and biting your chest, his hips slowly meeting yours as you rode out your climax. Your entire body ached as you came back down, sweating as you slumped against him in the chair.

“You okay?” He placed a kiss against your temple, his voice soft.

You nodded, one hand braced on his shoulder. “Got a cramp,” you laughed, trying to stretch your legs as you shifted off of him. Your body ached; you sighed at the feeling of his hand running up and down your back, caressing the skin gently. 

“Let’s go get cleaned up,” he said, helping you to your feet. Your legs shook as you balanced your weight, adjusting your dress. “Then, I’ll make you dinner.”

Your eyes lit up, a smile blooming over your face. “Maybe I should wear this more often,” you joked, already headed down the hall for your shower.

[icarusignite]

Hey! I don't know if this is the proper format (still kind of new here) but I'm sending in this prompt for an Alfred × Reader fic. There's this idea for him that was stuck in my head a couple months ago. So…

It's set either S2 or S3 but it fits better in S3 or the break between 2 and 3. Alfred is really ill which isn't unusual for him, but this time he's taking a lot longer for him to heal and he's deteriorating more seriously than he normally would.

People in court start looking around for new healers and remedies. Alfred is also kind of desperate because he doesn't want to die before England is complete or Edward is ready to take over.

Reader, who is a healer, comes to court with the intention of helping Alfred. She's neither Dane nor Saxon, if you're comfortable with it she could be of Asian or African origin/descent (eg Father Benedict in S5). She's either Muslim or Christian, either way she's well read and a bit of a scholar (if you've seen Vikings: Valhalla S2, there's a female character that might ring a bell). She's also able to reassure him, like Iseult, that she's treating him with nature's bounty and nothing sinister.

Because she's a scholar (also maybe a Christian), Alfred is comfortable that she's not practicing witchcraft so this helps him accept her more easily. It also helps them bond and they become really close friends over the course of the months she spends treating him. They have fun banter and he's able to feel like Alfred, the man around her instead of King Alfred. Then he realizes that he has feelings for her.

At this point it could go any way really. Does Aelswith factor into it much or not? Does reader reciprocate his feelings or not? If she does, would she be comfortable giving into them and being a mistress? Is Aelswith even in the picture or is this a slight AU? Do they have a sad, happy or bittersweet ending? Idk

For extra spice, Reader could also be good friends with Uhtred or Finan which makes Alfred a little jealous but also sad because he thinks that she'd probably prefer the charming, handsome, potentially single, strapping man to whatever measly affection he could offer her.

Ideally, it would be fluff or smut but whatever you're comfortable writing is fine! Sorry if this is too long but I wanted to be as clear as possible 😅. I also understand if this is too much for a oneshot and you forego the idea entirely

Alfred the great x POC! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: Heyy, so sorry this took literally eons to finally write. Thank you for your lovely request and also thank u for your patience <3 Hope you enjoy what I've done with your idea, and dw this will have another part where I'll explore their chemistry more. I watched a bunch of Alfred edits to get in the mood and ngl I'm lowkey in love with him now lmfao. 

Disclaimer: there might be some (a lot) historical discrepancies because I didn't line up the dates exactly but I did find out that the Golden Age of Islam overlapped significantly with the dates that the last kingdom spans so the reader is a prominent scholar from Baghdad. Also, Aelswith is dead (I'm sorry T_T) cuz I don't love a cheating trope even when it is sort of historically accurate. So we have single dad Alfred lol. 

The only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you

Entering King Alfred's throne room, your senses were immediately awakened by the unfamiliar sights, sounds, and scents of Wessex. The room itself was a stark contrast to the opulent palaces and grand courts of Baghdad that you were accustomed to. The room was spacious, yet its decoration was surprisingly humble and simple, adorned with rough-hewn wooden beams and modest tapestries that depicted various scenes of English myths and prominent events. With a flash of triumph, you found that you recognized some of them from your studies of the English culture. A faint scent of burning wood from the hearth permeated the air with an earthy aroma.

You observed the nobles in attendance, or the ealdormen as they were called here, their attire markedly different from the splendid silks and jewels of Baghdad's court. Here, the people wore simpler garments made of sturdy wool and linen, in the dark colours of the earth as opposed to the the vibrant clothing the people of your home favoured.

Your gaze then turned to the throne itself. It was a robust wooden chair, its design austere yet imposing, lacking the grandeur of the magnificent thrones you had imagined English kings liked to occupy. King Alfred's regal figure atop the throne created a dignified presence. His clothing, matched the style of his ealdormen, long simple robes of a dull grey. The seat next to him was empty and you briefly wondered about his family. The chronicles you had read stated that a king's wife usually took her place beside him when he held court, but you did not know much of Alfred's wife.

Your fingers itched for your writing instruments, yearning to document all your observations and the happenings of the court. You seldom went anywhere without them, but now they remained tucked away in your satchel as you waited for the king to acknowledge your presence. You knew he had seen you enter, his eyes briefly meeting yours, even as he conversed with his ealdormen. Eventually, your thoughts began to wander and you couldn't help but reflect on the stark contrast between the scorching heat of Baghdad and the chilly bite of autumn in Wessex. your flowing linen tunic and trousers, so comfortable in the sweltering desert of your homeland, felt inadequate against the cold English air that seeped through the cracks in the stone walls.

You discreetly rubbed your tingling fingertips together, trying to generate some warmth, as the fire blazing at the hearth did little to banish the chill that had settled in your bones. Your longing for the warmth of the caliphate's sun was keenly felt in this unfamiliar and frigid environment.

Impatience welled up within you as you glanced around the chamber, noting the courtiers' stoic expressions and hushed conversations. The king's deliberations seemed to stretch on endlessly, and you found yourself yearning for the moment when you could finally present your credentials and seek the audience you had travelled so far to obtain.

King Alfred's voice finally called out your name, his voice echoing through the chamber.

"Esteemed lady, I welcome you to the court of Wessex."

The ealdormen, accustomed to the formalities of their court, were taken aback when you did not bow or curtsy as was expected. Instead, you offered a polite smile and tipped your head in a gesture of respect.

A murmur of surprise and disapproval rippled through the assembled courtiers. Some whispered that your behaviour was disrespectful, a breach of protocol. They exchanged curious glances, wondering how their king would react to this departure from tradition.

However, King Alfred took no offence. With a gracious nod, he signalled for you to speak.

"Thank you, your grace. It is an honour to be here."

Your accent was soft, lending your words a foreign intonation, and each syllable was carefully enunciated. You had spent months learning the language, and you weren't about to embarrass yourself now by messing up your pronunciation.

"I extend my deepest gratitude to you for undertaking such a long and arduous journey at my request. I hope the discomfort of the voyage did not prove too taxing."

"Your Majesty," you replied, "it was a journey of great honour for me, and I hope to make myself useful here."

King Alfred nodded appreciatively and then turned to a servant standing nearby.

"Please, ensure that the lady is provided with comfortable quarters and all the amenities she may require during your stay in Wessex."

The servant bowed in acknowledgment and stepped forward to escort you to your residence within the royal palace. You thanked the king once more for his hospitality and assistance before following the servant out of the chamber.

As you left the throne room, your observant nature couldn't help but take note of King Alfred's condition. Despite his attempt to appear at ease in his chair, you had perceived the subtle signs of discomfort. His favouring of his left side, indicating pain or injury to his right, and the unusually pallid complexion for an Englishman raised concerns in your scholarly mind. That was your purpose, after all, to try to diagnose and hopefully cure the ailing monarch.

Just when you were gone, the noblemen of King Alfred's court wasted no time in flocking around him, their curiosity piqued by the arrival of the enigmatic woman. They bombarded the king with questions and voiced their concerns about the unfamiliar customs you had displayed.

One nobleman, his voice dripping with skepticism, remarked, "Your Majesty, did you see that? She didn't bow or curtsy as she should have! It's as if she has no respect for you."

Another, eyeing your unusual attire and complexion, chimed in, "And her clothing, Your Grace! It's unlike anything I've ever seen in Wessex. She's clearly not from anywhere near England. What could she possibly want here?"

The murmurs of disapproval and suspicion spread among the courtiers, as they exchanged perplexed glances. To them, your arrival was an anomaly, and your behaviour had raised eyebrows and questions.

King Alfred, his countenance calm and measured, raised a hand to quell the growing unease.

"I understand your concerns, but there is nothing to worry about" he began, addressing their concerns. "The lady you have just met is a prominent figure from Baghdad. She has travelled from a distant land to be here and she is not here to defy our traditions or customs. She is a scholar seeking to further her studies in Wessex. Her journey to our land is a great honour, as it reflects the recognition of the importance of our own intellectual pursuits."

His tone left no room for further skepticism. He also did not mention the other reason you were there, as he did not wish to reveal the truth of his declining health. As the nobles filtered out of the room, somewhat still unsatisfied by his answer, Alfred couldn't help but remain still, his mind going over the recent developments. When he had first written to the Abbasid Caliphate to request that he be allowed to host a medical scholar at his court, he had to admit he was not expecting a woman, and certainly not one so beautiful.

The next day, Alfred summoned you to his private chambers for a consultation regarding his health. As you entered the room, he couldn't help but notice the change in your attire. Gone was the flowing linen tunic and trousers, replaced by a sturdier, more practical woollen English dress. The deep blue gauzy veil, however, was still draped around your head and flowed down your back.

The English clothing seemed to complement you, accentuating your elegance in a way that was both unexpected and captivating. The king, not for the first time, found himself admiring you, though he kept such thoughts to himself, mindful of the formal context of your meeting.

You, ever the professional scholar, maintained a polite and formal distance as you began your examination of the king. You inquired about his symptoms, listening attentively to his description of the pain and discomfort he had been experiencing. Your deep knowledge and keen medical insight were evident as you asked probing questions and conducted a thorough assessment.

After a careful evaluation, you began to discuss your observations and your initial diagnosis with the king. You explained your thoughts on the potential causes of his discomfort and suggested a course of treatment. King Alfred was grateful for your expertise, and couldn't help but be struck by your intellect. He had a thirst for knowledge himself and he appreciated the quality in others when he saw it. In you he recognized a passion for learning and documentation, one he held himself as well. After the medical examination, he extended an invitation to you to remain in his chambers and share a cup of tea. Initially hesitant, you eventually agreed, recognizing the value of the opportunity to engage in conversation with the English monarch.

Seated in the warmth of the chamber, Alfred began to share with you the rich history of England, its struggles, its triumphs, and its cultural tapestry. He spoke of the challenges of the Anglo-Saxon period, the battles against the Danes, and the enduring spirit of the English people. As he narrated the history of his land, Alfred couldn't help but notice how your eyes lit up with a deep fascination, even though you attempted to contain your enthusiasm. Your questions flowed naturally as you probed deeper into the history and culture of Wessex. You asked about the Anglo-Saxon kings, the legends and folklore, and the development of the English language.

You kept diligent notes in your little notebook, your hand swiftly capturing every detail of the conversation. Your keen intellect and insatiable thirst for knowledge were evident, and your genuine interest in Alfred's words warmed his heart. It had been quite a while since anyone had paid such rapt attention to what he was saying, and he found himself rejuvenated by your exchange.

As a lull settled over your conversation, Alfred's curiosity got the better of him. With a twinkle in his eye, he leaned forward and said, "My lady, I must admit, I'm quite curious about the contents of that notebook of yours. What sort of information have you been documenting to take back to your homeland?"

You smiled, your demeanour more relaxed than when you had first come in, "Your Majesty, you need not worry. I promise you, I haven't written that the English are fire-breathing trolls."

Alfred felt a grin tug at his lips, but he suppressed the urge, keeping his hands folded placidly over his stomach.

"Well, you know, if we English could breathe fire, we might have an easier time dealing with our enemies!"

"There is a trick that performers back home use, to give the illusion of breathing fire. The science behind it is quite fascinating. Perhaps I shall explain it to you sometime."

"Ah yes my lady, you have filled your book with our tales, but have yet to share yours. Do you have any secrets from the East that you'd like to share with us humble English folk?"

You couldn't help but smirk at his words, "I'm afraid some secrets are best left in the lands where they belong, your grace. We wouldn't want you to start brewing Persian tea incorrectly, now would we?"

"I doubt it can compete with our tried and trusted English tea."

"You only think that way because you haven't tried Persian tea yet. Trust me, once you have, there's no going back."

"I suppose you make a fair point! Although, I must admit, the thought of trying to decipher the intricacies of Arabic calligraphy is rather tempting."

You paused, your light-hearted nature urging you to make another joke but you strictly reminded yourself that you were in the presence of a king. It would do you no good to offend him with an ill-timed statement. You were already apprehensive about your earlier comment about the Persian tea, although you were grateful that he chose not to see it as a slight. As if sensing your hesitation, Alfred sat up in bed and leaned forward.

"You are free to speak my lady, do not hold yourself back on my account," he reassured with a wave of his hand.

Still, you settled for a polite smile, "I was just going to remark on the difficulty of calligraphy but I am certain that if anyone would be able to master it, it'd be you, Your Majesty."

A small furrow appeared between Alfred's brows as if that wasn't the answer he expected from you. He could see you pulling away, going back to your polite, almost cold professionalism. Eventually, he nodded thoughtfully at you.

"I would be ever so grateful if you could perhaps show me the technique someday, my lady."

You breathed a sigh of relief and nodded with a small smile.

"Now, about that notebook, if you would allow me to take a look?"

"Ah yes, of course," you handed over the small leatherbound journal to him quickly without further complaints. "But I must warn you, my handwriting isn't at its most legible."

Alfred accepted the notebook with a nod of appreciation. As he leafed through its pages, his eyes quickly fell upon your meticulously written notes. Your thoughts were inscribed in your native language and although he did not understand the words, your elegant looping script impressed him.

He raised an eyebrow and turned toward you expectantly, pointing toward a specific passage, "And what does this say right here?"

"It is a description of the English weather, your grace."

Alfred leaned closer, his finger tracing the inked lines on the page.

"Ah yes, English weather. It was raining when you first arrived, wasn't it? What do you think of our English rain then, my lady? I've heard it has a certain charm."

"Well, I believe your rain can be quite persuasive. It insists that one should stay indoors and read a good book."

Alfred's lips twitched again, fighting back a smile. It seemed that the new scholar shared his interests as well.

"A wise perspective, indeed. Perhaps our English rain is simply encouraging a literary lifestyle."

"Yes, your grace."

"My lady" he continued, a note of genuine admiration in his voice, "I must tell you, your handwriting is truly exquisite. Tell me, just how many languages have you learned."

You felt a blush creep into your cheeks at his compliment. There was something sincere in his eyes as he waited for your answer, looking at you like your accomplishments were the greatest thing in the world. You opened your mouth to respond but then a loud knock sounded on the door and a priest entered.

"Yes, Father Beocca," Alfred seemed irritated at the interruption.

Father Beocca's eyes glanced from you to the king, and despite the fact that you were sitting in a chair quite some distance away from him, you felt a strange flash of awkward embarrassment run through you.

"My king, Uhtred is here to see you," the priest finally stated.

Alfred sighed and turned toward you with an apologetic smile, "Shall we continue our conversation another time then, my lady? It seems that I am needed elsewhere."

"Yes, of course, your grace."

You quickly took your leave then, choosing to take one of your books and go read in the garden. You had just settled yourself into a comfortable nook when loud boisterous laughter caught your attention. Turning your gaze towards the source of the commotion, you spotted three men, two of whom were dressed in the attire of warriors. Their boisterous behaviour was evident as they playfully teased and shoved the third man, who was clad in robes that resembled those of Father Beocca. However, a leather breastplate adorned his monk's attire, hinting at a surprising duality of roles – priest and fighter.

The two warriors were engaged in a lively exchange with the monk, their laughter echoing through the garden. You couldn't help but smile as you watched the scene unfold. Their camaraderie and jesting reminded you of the Caliph's sons back home, when your father would take you to visit the palace.

One of the warriors, a bearded man with broad shoulders and a hearty laugh, clapped the monk on the back.

"Come now, Osferth," he said between chuckles, "surely your devotion to the Lord could use a bit of levity now and then."

The monk, Osferth, grinned in response, "Aye Finan, it is said that laughter is the best medicine, is it not?"

The other warrior, a lean and quick-witted fellow, joined in with a jest, "Well, if that's the case, Osferth, then Finan here will live to be a hundred and you shall die tomorrow!"

Osferth elbowed the tall man in the ribs, "Not before I knock some sense into you Sihtric."

Their jovial banter and good-natured teasing continued, creating a lively atmosphere in the serene garden. You couldn't help but be amused by their antics and the familiarity of their interactions, watching them for quite some time.

The trio of men eventually noticed your presence, and with their laughter dying down, they made their way over to you. As they approached, their expressions revealed a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

The broad-shouldered warrior, Finan, whose eyes twinkled with mischief, was the first to speak. "Well, what have we here?" he said with a grin. "A traveller from foreign shores, I presume?"

"Yes, I am from Baghdad, my lord."

The warrior, clearly taken with you, couldn't resist a flirtatious remark.

"Lady, I must say, you are a wondrous addition to our English garden."

You snorted at his attempt at flirtation.

Meanwhile, the monk with the leather breastplate maintained a more respectful demeanour.

"Greetings, lady, I am Osferth," he said with a nod. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. May I ask what brings you to our humble Wessex?"

You found the monk's polite curiosity quite refreshing.

"Greetings to you too, Osferth. I've come to further my studies here. Wessex has much to offer in terms of knowledge and history, and I hope to make the most of it."

"Well, my lady, if ever you wish to explore our English shores, I'd be delighted to be your guide," it was Finan who spoke again and you could not help but laugh at his words.

"Thank you, kind sir. Your offer is most gracious."

“Call me Finan, my lady.”

Your change continued as they asked more about you and your hometown and you asked about theirs. You found out that they were a band of warriors who followed some fellow named Uhtred, the very same Uhtred who was currently speaking to King Alfred. As the conversation flowed, you discovered that you enjoyed speaking with these men. Their witty banter and friendly demeanour made you feel at ease, despite the foreignness of your surroundings. You shared stories of your travels, your scholarly pursuits, and the cultural nuances of your homeland. The men, in turn, regaled you with tales of their own adventures.

As you continued to engage in playful banter with the warriors, you remained oblivious to the presence of King Alfred and Uhtred, who had ventured outside and were observing the lively exchange.

Eventually, with a confident stride, Uhtred made his way toward your group to make his introduction and Father Beocca approached the king with his concerns.

"Your Majesty," he began cautiously, "I must admit, I have reservations about entrusting your treatment to a foreigner, especially one from so distant a land. We must be cautious of witchcraft and unfamiliar practices."

King Alfred turned to Father Beocca, his expression thoughtful but resolute, "Father Beocca, I understand your concerns, but the lady is no ordinary foreigner. She hails from Baghdad, a city known for its innovative medical advancements and a center of learning in the Islamic world. She comes as one of their finest scholars, sent by the Caliph himself."

"I see, your grace."

"I have read extensively about the great Islamic civilization, and its contributions to science, medicine, and philosophy. I believe we have much to learn from her, not only about medicine but also about fostering understanding and collaboration between our cultures. They have succeeded in uniting several lands under one caliphate, so perhaps we might learn how we may unite England as well."

Father Beocca, though still cautious, nodded in understanding, "Your Majesty, I trust your judgment. It is my fervent hope that the lady's presence here will indeed lead to beneficial knowledge and that she will uphold the values of wisdom and compassion."

"Thank you, Father Beocca. Let us have faith in this unique opportunity for cultural exchange and enlightenment. Her presence is a bridge between worlds, and I believe it is a path toward a brighter future for Wessex."

Over the course of the next few months, you became familiar with the routines of the Wessex palace. King Alfred allowed you to shadow him throughout his day, believing that you could provide valuable insights into his own activities. It was a decision that would lead to a profound connection between the two of you.

Every day, you diligently prepared poultices and medications for the king’s ailments, and often you’d recite the recipe to him and explain the purpose of each herb and plant that went into it. He found that he trusted you completely but he was still comforted by your transparency and the efforts you took to explain things to him. Sometimes he would insist on accompanying you on walks and you would point out the various native English plants and their counterparts back home. You also documented the king's activities and observations in your notebook. At times, he would request to see your notebook, often just to admire the beauty of your script. He marvelled at the graceful lines of your writing, and the intricate calligraphy that adorned the pages.

Your interactions went beyond the formalities of your initial meeting. King Alfred, always eager to learn, would occasionally ask you to translate certain passages from your native language and over time, your bond grew stronger. King Alfred began to look forward to each day, eager to see your bright and colourful veil, a striking contrast to your plain English gowns. He would wonder which hue you would choose, and it became a delightful anticipation in his daily routine.

Your conversations transcended the realm of duty and scholarly pursuits. The two of you shared your favourite books, discussing the nuances of various works and debating the merits of different translations. Your insights challenged Alfred's own understanding, and he cherished these moments of intellectual stimulation.

As the days turned into weeks and then months, Alfred realized that you had become an important fixture in his life. your presence was a source of inspiration, a reminder of the power of knowledge, and a testament to the potential for understanding and collaboration between different cultures.

He found himself thinking of you when he was apart from you, reminiscing about how your eyes would dance with mirth as you argued with him about the inaccuracies of translated works, or how your laughter would fill the palace corridors. You had not only enriched his pursuit of knowledge but had also touched his heart, becoming a cherished friend and confidante in the process.

Alfred could still vividly recall the way you had looked at him with genuine wonder and appreciation when he had shown you his humble library. He knew that compared to the great libraries of Alexandria and Baghdad, his collection was modest, but you had delighted in it all the same. Your eyes, filled with curiosity and admiration, had swept over the numerous scrolls and manuscripts, taking in the wealth of knowledge contained within those walls.

In that moment, as you softly murmured your thanks, Alfred felt his breath catch. He was struck not only by the beauty of your physical presence but also by the grace with which you carried yourself and the genuine enthusiasm you displayed for learning. Your voice had a melodic quality that lingered in his memory. It was a voice that seemed to breathe life into the ancient texts that surrounded you and the king found himself quite enamoured with you. The two of you spent many a late night pouring over scrolls together, and although he always kept a respectful distance, Alfred found himself wanting to brush away the stray strands of hair that fell across your forehead, having escaped the tightly bound coil you usually kept your hair in.

Tonight was one such night as the dim light of the candle burned low, and after a lively discussion on herbal medicine, you had fallen asleep on one of the ancient manuscripts. Alfred, his mind still buzzing with the echoes of your conversation, fought against the pull of sleep. Instead, he watched you slumber, his heart filled with a mixture of admiration and tenderness.

In the soft candlelight of the library, you appeared even more enchanting. Your thick eyelashes brushed against your cheeks as you slept peacefully, your features serene. Your form rose and fell with each gentle breath, a rhythmic reminder of the tranquil cadence of sleep. Alfred couldn't help but be captivated by your beauty in this unburdened state. The play of shadows and light highlighted the delicate contours of your face, and the soft glow of the manuscripts around you lent an almost ethereal quality to the scene. You looked like a vision from a dream.

As he watched your slumber, a sudden, unexpected urge welled up within him. He was struck by the temptation to lean in and kiss you, but he quickly banished the traitorous thought. What an absurd thing for a king to do, to force his affections on a guest in his home. Especially when he had no way of knowing if you returned his feelings. He would have to content himself with the simple act of watching you sleep, his heart filled with a deep and unspoken longing.

He also found himself wondering if you were betrothed, for you couldn’t possibly be married and still be here. What man would not accompany you or let you out of his sight if you were his wife? Although you had discussed many things, you did not stray close to personal topics such as family. You were only a few years younger than him and surely you had to have someone in your life. And even if you didn’t, what could you possibly want with an ailing man like him when a woman as accomplished as you could have anyone in the world?

Such melancholy things plagued him as he eventually drifted asleep on the table across from you, his final thoughts fixating on what it might feel like to have your lips against his. 

[viburnt]

Dabi (Touya Todoroki)|| Cigars

Type: Small fic

Genre: NSFW/Suggestive

Notes: I still find it hard to write NSFW, it always sounds better in my mind. Bear with me.

Characters involved: Touya Todoroki (Still Dabi)

Prompt: "Have a light?"/Cigarettes before sex

You didn't like cigars. The way they smelled and made you cough were enough reason to stay away from them, not to mention the nasty aroma clinging into your clothes.

However, despite your obvious dislike, Dabi still insisted on you being the one lighting his stogies.

It was annoying to say the least. Why would he, a fire-quirk user, ask for a lighter when he could use his hands? Whatever the reason was, it didn't matter.

He'd rummage through his pocket whenever you stepped into the room, and pull out a cheap roll for you to ignite. Dabi knew you'd always offer your zippo to fire up his vice.

—Want one?— The outlaw asked the first time it happened, handing you his cheap coronas so you could pick one. You shook your head but thanked him anyway.

—Don't say, you don't smoke?— His voice muttered with a husky style. You could feel his sapphire eyes piercing through your soul as he took a long drag. —Too good to give it a try?

He held his roll out for you, waiting for your fingers to take it. The smell was overwhelming your senses and all you wanted to do was breathe some fresh air.

—Sorry, can't do that. Thank you for the offer.— Your mouth responded, curling into an apologetic smile afterward. The raven – haired was not satisfied with that answer.

He laid a hand on your waist swiftly, pulling your body enough to lean you against him. Opening your mouth in surprise, a thick cloud of smoke met your face. The prick, you thought as you coughed, he just had to do that.

—You are so cute like this.— Dabi derided with a pat on your head. He liked it when you pouted and frowned, knowing you hated his guts.

—Could at least buy one of those vapes people nowadays use. They don't smell as foul.— You scolded. —Why do you like these so much? They are gross.

The man shrugged, not letting your body go.

—They are cheap and unfiltered, if I wanted some girly shit, I'd ask Toga for perfume.— He nonchalantly said, making you roll your eyes. —You seem like the kind that would use those fruit vapes, though. Always whining and yapping like a whimsy bitch.

Dabi lived to piss you off, you thought at that moment. He was having a blast testing your limits.

—Oh, I'm a whimsy bitch for not smoking this crap?— You talked back, taking his cigar out of his lips. —Aren't these like the cheapest available? Does that make you a stingy dog?

The way the man holding you laughed at your efforts had your patience running low. How adorable and helpless you were in his eyes was beyond your comprehension.

—You are giving me the reason, you know? When this pretty mouth of yours tries to get back at me… a yapping bitch.— He purred, his lips millimeters away from yours. Enough to make your body jolt.

—Tch, dick.— The criminal heard you mutter with a pout.

—You're so mean! Boo-hoo!— His raspy voice mocked in a high-pitched tone, imitating a phrase you'd said many times before. Allowing his hand to roam with more freedom around your body, he reached the dampness between your legs. —Shut up, whore. You say that, while I can feel this right here.

The way his digits applied some pressure on your nerve bundle made you mewl unconsciously. Pushing him a little, you put some space between your bodies. The way your face flustered was enough for Dabi to continue.

—Do you have to be like this all the time?— You scolded, trying to hide the way your body ached for him.

The villain threw away his cigar butt on the floor, extinguishing with his heavy boot.

—The more you act all stuck-up, the more I wanna bury my dick inside you.—

He stole your lips in a sloppy, wet kiss, his tongue playing with yours as his hands groped your hips.

The way you'd grind against his thigh to get some friction had Dabi baring his white fangs; fuck, so wet.

It felt good, you couldn't deny it. Specially not when your cunt was being split open by his cock as your face was pressed against the wall.

But God, you still hated cigars.

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[pics-and-fanfics]

Hii! Umm maybe Loki or Bucky realising they love us? Like one moment they're doing smth normal and they look at us and go "i wanna spend the rest of my life with them" kinda situation.....i just think it's cute

Keep up the great work!! We love you♥️

Mundane

Pairing: Bucky x GN!Reader

Warnings: fluff (finally), tooth rotting fluff, thats bout it. Its just fluff. Pure fluff, 100%, just came from the fluff clouds.

Summary: read the ask, it summarizes pretty good!

A/n: Im so sorry this took so long but I hope i did it justice! ❤️ thank you for the ask (and patience) @goddessofwonderland

find my other works on my Masterlist!

Bucky smiled, looking up and seeing you folding your clothes, getting distracted every few minutes by the movie playing on the TV. It was so cute, the way you kept quickly glancing at the TV, making sure you didn’t miss anything.

He quietly grabbed one of your shirts, folding it for you. He saw the way you looked at him, and he smiled again, handing you the shirt as he grabbed another shirt, folding it for you.

The smile on your face grew, and he couldn’t help but blush, glad he was the one who put the smile on your face, even if it was by doing something mundane with you.

❤️

Bucky watched as you ate your noodles, sitting next to him.

“What? Is there something on my face?” He blushed, looking back at his plate. He never wanted a day to go by where he didn’t hear your voice.

“I'm serious, Buck! Is there something on my face?”

“No, kitten. You’re fine.”

“Buck, I swear to God-”

He laughed, seeing your face turn red.

“I promise. There’s nothing on your face except too much beauty.” Your face reddened further, and Bucky smiled, pressing a kiss to your nose.

❤️

Bucky watched as you flipped the page of your book, and he smiled, turning back to the TV. You were cuddled against his chest, a blanket tangled around your feet.

A few minutes later when Bucky looked back down at you, you were asleep, and your head had fallen onto his lap. He smiles, slowly running his fingers through your hair.

He loved you so much-

The realization sinks in as he stops breathing for a second and his heart stops then beats twice as fast in his chest.

He loved you. He never wanted a day to go by where he didn’t see your face or hear your voice or smell your perfume. He wanted to wake up next to you in the mornings and wake you up with soft kisses.

He wanted to fall asleep next to you and send you off to sleep by reading to you. He wanted to do every mundane task with you, no matter how boring, because it meant more time with you, which was never boring.

He never wanted to see you leave him. He never wanted to be away from you.

Bucky looked down when he heard you hum, eyes opening slightly.

“Why’d you stop?” Your voice was groggy, and he chuckled.

“Sorry kitten, I was thinking. Just go back to sleep.”

You hummed again, sitting up and nuzzling under his arm before going back to sleep, tiny snores coming out of your mouth.

He wanted to be with you for the rest of his life. And he’d do anything to let you know that.

❤️

Again, I’m sorry this took so long, but thank you so much for being so patient! I hope I did this justice!

Let me know if u want to be added/removed from my taglist, and I hope everyone (except homophobes and transphobes) have a great day or night!

@vbecker10 @mochie85 @michelleleewise @fictive-sl0th @silverfire475 @huntress-artemiss @vickie5446 @sheris532 @lokixryss @lokidokieokie @stupidthoughtsinwriting @crimson25 @peaches1958 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @mybuckynotyours @thrutheburnout

[academiawho]

hiii❤️

im kinda anxious because my mock test scores are stuck in 550s-580s. what do u suggest i stick to in these last 15 days so that i can get in the 600 range? im mostly just revising ncert again and again right now.

(off topic but i love your blog and you motivate me so much! i always look forward to your posts🥰 mwah)

Hey boo! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this ask out, I was practically either in my car, in my bed or at my table these past few days.

I'm sure your mentors/coaching teachers have given you some advice, and here's some tips I can think of:

Pick a past year paper every morning, solve it. If you feel like the paper would decide the mood for your day and might spoil said mood, pick another opportune time. One paper per day -> doubts solving -> mistake book -> revision

NCERT revision. If you feel like it's difficult, keeping in mind that NCERT is written to be studied, not quizzed upon, try mindmaps based on NCERT or summaries at the back of the chapter.

Time yourself when you're writing tests. And I don't mean completing a test in the given 3:20. I mean, how much time are you taking per subject. Try reducing it to the 45-50-50 timeline. 45 mins for bio, 50 for phy, 50 for chem. Phy and chem can be adjusted anyhow in the remaining time but make sure you're acing bio as far as you can and as fast as you can.

Didn't get the logic/formula of a question? Don't dwell on it, move onto the next ones. You can come back to them later.

If you make OMR mistakes in a hurry, or because you do it in the last 30 mins left -> take 45 mins for OMR if need be, but don't make bubbling errors. What you bubble in the end matters just as much or maybe even more than what you solve on the Q paper.

Error Analysis is must after every test. Whether it be a past paper or a mock test. Spend 1-2 hours on that depending on whether your mistakes are silly or conceptual.

Thank you so much for your love and patience, I'm so happy my blog motivates you. Have a nice few days so that we can give our best in NEET!💛