#(it arrived and was the wrong colour)
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gabriels-golden-kazoo · 7 months ago
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If anyone at all is wondering how the character hyper fixation is going, I’m currently crocheting a snake with the full intent of calling it Gabriel.
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vv-ispy · 9 months ago
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something something samsara cycles I don't think it's a coincidence that the overthrow of Decarabian involved Jean and Diluc's ancestor + Venti's lookalike friend -> Mondstadt archon quest the key players taking down Dvalin were Jean and Diluc + Venti
Is. Traveler Amos?
Or put another way, traveler is the one with the floaty friend -> bard has the floaty friend. Venti is friends with Dvalin the terror of the tower/Amos is friends? Lovers? Something? With Decarabian the tyrant in the tower. Venti -> Amos, Traveler -> Nameless bard, Paimon -> Venti?
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ficmenrhot · 2 months ago
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Minors DNI
Late night thoughts but…
Imagine Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley who was instantly enchanted by you the second you walked onto base wearing an innocent smile and a short skirt barely doing anything to hide your soft, plush thighs. You looked so out of place with your baby pink colours as you flounced amongst the tall, strong soldiers and pecked your dad, his Captain, on the cheek with a small grin that flashed your dimples. He groaned quietly, thankful for his balaclava to mask his slipped-up noise though the print of his hardened erection straining against the materials of his pants was undeniably prominent. What the fuck was wrong with him?
Later when his Captain, Price, called him over for a proper introduction, he played the facade of a restrained gentleman and even reached out his hand for you to shake (which he would’ve never offered to anyone else). Secretly, he just wanted to see the difference of your smaller palm swallowed beneath his larger, calloused hand, already mentally picturing the image of what your manicured nails would look wrapped around his cock.
“Princess, this is one of my best man. Meet Ghost,��� introduced Price. Simon swore he saw your lashes flutter as you gazed up at him, tinted cheeks with pretty plump lips pulled into a small shy smile he couldn’t wait to corrupt.
“Call me Simon, luvie,” he drawled, his voice a deep yet velvety timbre which made an odd flutter erupt in your stomach.
Who could’ve blamed you when you ended up pinned against the wall in Simon’s room, your legs wrapped around his thick waist, his large hands cupping your bared ass as he rutted into you like a bitch in heat. He just seemed so nice….and if your dad had trusted him to bring you safely to your temporal stay after dinner, then why couldn’t you?
How convenient was it that his room was right besides yours? It wasn’t that he forced another soldier to swap with him for the night by abusing his authority.
A goodnight kiss grew heated when his gentle hold on your cheek turned into a grip around your neck, pulling your smaller frame against his toned muscles, letting you feel how much he’d been craving you the entire time since your arrival.
“You feel this, luvie? Can you feel how hard you make me, little tease?”
“Gonna be a good doll for me and help me feel better hm?”
His face buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling in your sweet scent and wishing he could engrave the sound of your soft whimpers, desperate moans and pleas into his mind as he stretched you out so good…pounding roughly into your tight heat with long, hard strokes that made your eyes roll to the back of your skull, digging faint crescents into his broad shoulders.
Sure, your cervix may have been bruised for the next few days, but the ache was worth it for the most life-changing marathon of blissed orgasm he gifted you. Lengthy fingers thrusting and curling against your sweet spot, his balaclava lifted high enough to attach his lips to your swollen clit, sucking and licking so expertly and tongue-fucking you into oblivion. Lapping at you to taste your sweet nectar after he brought waves of pleasure to wash over you again and again, then again.
“Little pussy so fucking warm and tight, mhm,” he groaned almost gutturally, “made to be fucked…made to be mine.”
“Know what this means, luvie? You’re tied to me now…forever mine to use and spoil and love…”
Simon delivered a small, firm squeeze to your neck when you responded with an incoherent mewl and not words.
“Say it.”
“…ah..nghm…” you were a whimpering mess, mind completely hazed with pleasure at this point, legs shaking, “…yours to use…and spoil and…love”
“That’s right, that’s my good luvie.”
With one final thrust of his hips and a low grunt, he released, filling you to the brim with warm, spurts of his cum and ensuring you were stuffed full with his sticky seed.
Now that Simon had a taste, he would be crazy to let you go. He was a man of many things but never a liar, and indeed, he’d intended to keep his promise of making you forever his.
Much to his satisfaction, the next time you returned to base after a few months, you were more than just a visitor for his Captain but his girl…
And when you ran up to kiss his cheek, he noticed, the slight curve of a bump forming beneath your soft pink sundress.
——————
A/N: Has it been a year? I don’t know, but I’m back and I’m in my COD era! Hope you enjoyed reading this. All likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated, so are comments!
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luveline · 1 year ago
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble
sirius/james introducing shy!reader to remus. and shes just like quiet and in awe, but remus loves it.
luveline's 40k party ☆ tysm for requesting! remus x shy fem!reader
James is used to your personality after months of being your lecture neighbour, unperturbed by your quiet. "It's going to be fun," he promises, handing you a cold glass of cranberry vodka. "They're nice, okay? I won't let anyone irritate you." 
He's hosting a party and had the generosity to invite you round early. He's easing you in, so to speak. It took him two weeks of steady Hellos for you to work up the courage to say Hi back, another two weeks for small talk, a month before you felt comfortable speaking to him first. If you're that shy, a party is basically torture.
"It's not about irritating me," you say. 
"I know, I'm messing." James lists his head to the left. A second later, there's a knock at the door. "Aha. Wait here, shortcake, there's someone I want you to meet." 
"James," you say after him, wet from your glass leaking down to your sleeve, "what?" 
"I asked him to come early and say hello! He's quiet and handsome and you'll love him, just don't stare at his nose." 
What's wrong with his nose? you think, alarmed. 
James opens the door. Two new voices emerge, one scratchy and a little high, the other smoother. "I need to pee so bad," the scratchy one declares, followed by bounding footsteps up the stairs. 
"You alright?" the smoother asks.
You think there's patting, a hug, "I'm brilliant! You smell really nice, Remus, like a garden." 
"Lovely."
"In a good way! Come and meet my Y/N, you remember I told you about her nice gel pens?" 
James leads the smooth-voiced Remus into the living room. You hurriedly put down your drink and stand, wiping your wet hands in your shirt. You cringe at the darkening fabric but hide your grimace as they stop in front of you. 
"Remus, Y/N. Y/N, Remus," James introduces you both. 
Remus has a scar across his nose that seems cruelly cut. There's another beside it that starts in his upper lip, both of which end in his eyebrow. You know how self-conscious it feels to be looked at, so you manage to smile and offer your hand without too much of it. He's handsome with his scars, a nice nose with a ridge and brown eyes the colour of caramelised sugar.
"Hello," Remus says, shaking your hand. His is big enough to make yours feel small. 
"I invited her early because she's more fun than the rest of our lot," James says, throwing himself down on the sofa and kicking his legs out on the coffee table. 
Remus taps your elbow very gently as if to usher you to sit and sits down beside you, enough space to be casual but too little to stop the rampant nerves that blossom in your stomach. 
Remus asks about your life. What you're studying, where you're from, if James is being nice to you. While James is touchy in the rough older brother way, scrunching your shoulder and shaking you when you're not expecting it. Remus is touchy in a different way, you find, almost as if he doesn't know he's doing it. His shoe bumps your shoe, his hand falls down between his outer thigh and your own, his knuckles touching your jeans very lightly. He spins in his seat to talk to you. 
You don't notice other people arriving, nor the scratchy-voiced friends return. All you can do is look up at Remus with wide eyes. Your nerves meld to something warmer. 
"And what do you do?" you ask him. 
He smiles like you've wandered into a secret. "I'm trying to write a book." 
"He's being a bit much," Sirius says to James, the two now loitering in the doorway with matching beers. You and Remus chatter on, unaware of their running commentary.
"It's a very strong reaction. I knew she'd like him, but I didn't think she'd like him like that." James takes a sip of his drink. Remus asks you a quiet question. You duck your head, playing with your sleeves, and Remus, the bastard, ducks his head to follow your gaze, smiling at you all the while. 
James almost chokes, pointing his bottle toward you both as though Sirius isn't already looking. "He's eating it up. I forgot how flirty he is."
"She'll be nice to him, won't she?" Sirius asks, like it's a done deal. To be fair, Remus seems enthralled with you. 
"Definitely. She's very nice. Oh, look, that's sick, she's gonna pass out." James winces as Remus takes your arm into his hand. 
Remus wouldn't do anything cruel, but James wasn't joking when he told Remus that you were exceedingly, achingly shy. He's about to step in and rescue you, but you turn into Remus' touch and pull your leg up on the sofa to make yourself comfortable. Your voice is animated, if quieter than the average person's.
"Woah," James says, beaming.  
Remus flirts almost as a defence, like he wants to get the rejection over and done with so he can move on. You've yet to reject; you're looking up at him in moderate awe, your lips quirked into an easy smile. 
"Boo!" James calls, flicking his bottle cap at Remus, who brushes it away. "Took me three weeks to get a smile out of her," he mutters. "What a dick." 
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astonmartinii · 10 days ago
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other side of the moon - chapter five | formula one imagine
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pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli
one big car launch with every driver in attendance - what can go wrong?
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | SERIES MASTERLIST
whatever bright spark decided that formula one needed one big, fancy car launch must want y/n dead. here she stood in one of the many green rooms in a black dress that’s a little too tight and an absolute pain to sit down in.
on one side of the room george sits in his dressing gown being doted on five different people while he talks down the phone in a tone too loud for the crowded room. kimi, on the other hand, sits on the couch on the other side, having waved off all of the people trying to smear yet another cream on his face.
“are you just going to be haunting me all season?” george said as he hung up the phone. glaring at y/n through the mirror.
“if i’m haunting you, does that mean you did something wrong?” y/n gasps, “am i the skeleton in your closet, georgie?”
the mercedes personnel in the green room were still, almost waiting for it to hit boiling point and all spill over. george and y/n stared each other down, waiting for someone to make the next move. george steadily looked y/n up and down, not being subtle at all. y/n raised her eyebrow at the brit.
“i could get used to you in my colours,” george said with a smirk.
“bore off russell, i don’t wear anything for you. these will be seen as kimi’s colours before you know it.”
a knock on the door signalled the start of the show. george stood up and took off his robe, revealing the new mercedes racesuit for the season. the brit made his way to the door but before he left, he turned to y/n and said, “don’t get too comfortable, i have my eye on you”
“oh georgie, you always have,” y/n flirted before schooling her face, “and how has that worked out for you?”
the brit pointed to his racesuit, “better than it has for you.”
that was a low blow, but y/n was prepared to play it that way if that was the game for the season. george looked at her again, as if to challenge her, but y/n stayed silent though her stare was unwavering. she had said a lot worse about herself to herself after the crash.
with that george turned and left, calling out to alex down the corridor.
“i really don’t understand him,” kimi said, “it was only like a week or two ago he was cussing you out in monaco, then today he checks you out but then threatens you like two seconds later?”
“first lesson of the year, kimi. do not trust a word that man says to you.”
the pair linked arms and made their way out of the green room. there was a gaggle of drivers at the end of the corridor, all decked out in their racesuits except the ferrari boys who were in normal suits. the group fell silent as they all turned to see the new arrivals.
“i didn’t know it was bring your mum to work day?” alex called out as they neared the group, smiling as he came to hug her.
a french-accented voice hollered a ‘milf’ from the back of the group, y/n suspected it was pierre, but paid no mind. an offended squeak followed as y/n looked up to see max delivering a slap to the back of his head.
“i’m just dropping him off, i gotta get to my seat before i’m roped into an interview. i had to sneak in this afternoon, i swear sky sports are like stalking me!”
the group watched along as y/n leaned in to whisper into kimi’s ear, “remember what i told you. smile, be likeable and tell jokes. these people are underestimating you, let them. we’ll do our real talking in the car. good luck and try and have some fun.”
the pair did their ‘handshake’, which really was just a pinky promise, and broke apart. y/n looks back at the group one more time, smiles at max and takes her leave. just a couple paces down the corridor, a voice called out her name.
“y/n, hey!” lewis called, catching up to her quickly, “i didn’t think i’d see you back here tonight.”
“i wasn’t planning on it, to be fair. kimi is technically an adult now, but i still didn’t want to leave him on his own here of all places.”
lewis laughed as the pair looked back at the group. kimi had nestled himself next to ollie, quietly talking to each other with esteban looking over both of them. y/n caught the gaze of esteban and the frenchman gave her a quick nod before inserting himself into the conversation. the height difference between kimi and esteban was comical, but y/n was happy knowing esteban would look out for him in places she couldn’t be.
“i didn’t think you would like the whole mentor role, being so young and everything, but you seem to be doing a good job.”
“thank you lewis, but honestly he makes it very easy,” y/n looked at the group again with a fond look on her face.
lewis brought his hand to her face and made her look at him, “i thought i’d never see that look on your face again.”
y/n looked down and blushed, shaking lewis’ hand off. “i am happy. a lot happier than i expected to be, anyway.”
“i’m happy that you’re happy. i’m happy you’re back, i won’t keep my distance this time, even if you’re in the home of the enemy now.”
y/n laughed, “well i thought it was bad going back to your ex, and look at me now. so maybe they’re not as much as an enemy as you think.”
an announcement from further down the corridor cute the conversation there, lewis tries not to look bothered, but y/n can still tell.
“looks like you’re needed elsewhere, superstar,” y/n said with a wink, “try not to let charles outshine you too much.”
“he wishes.”
y/n watched him walk away and was confused. lewis had never expressed interest in her before, platonic or romantic. even when she was a young rookie with stars in her eyes, she was never on his radar. was she now? the visit in london had been weird and the way his eyes had been fixed on her since she arrived today was even weirder.
y/n didn’t really have the time to be grappling with that struggle today, not with everything else going on. the audience seemed like enough distance between her and lando, but after monaco, there was no real knowing what could happen. george was just as confusing as his compatriot, with harsh words but also a glimmer of something else too.
she needed a glass of champagne pronto.
max watched the interaction between y/n and lewis like a hawk, so focused that he didn’t realise that he had formed quite an audience. nico hulkenberg, kimi, ollie and esteban watched him try and conceal his feelings, but his face showed every thought.
“you want to make it any more obvious that you’re jealous?” nico said, nudging max to break him out of his daze.
“i’m not jealous, i just wonder what they actually have to talk about…”
“you’re not jealous you say? you didn’t even glare at him this much during 2021.” esteban chimed in.
max furrowed his brows and forced himself to look away. he already felt guilty for harbouring these feelings for y/n and now he’s faced with a curious look from kimi, making him feel even worse. he did not want to make the same mistake as lando and george had in the past. he meant it when he said he just wanted to exist with her.
“kimi, how would you feel about having max as your dad?” ollie said, hiding slightly behind esteban.
“he’s very good with the cats?”
“thanks, that’s such a glowing recommendation, kimi, thanks!”
kimi held up his hands in surrender but max couldn’t be angry at the italian - plus he did take very good care of his cats and brando. in fact, he had nearly thrown his back out, much to red bull’s chagrin, building a new cat tower so brando could watch the birds from his preferred spot. the cat had settled in well in his place in monaco while y/n had been staying, the dutchman didn’t want to think too much about what it could mean, but it was on his mind.
“i just mean i caught you googling how to make sure your cat is getting enough vitamin d because you were worried about how cloudy it’s been in monaco?”
kimi tried to backpedal, but his anecdote was overheard by more drivers, bringing them into the conversation.
“are you being for real? vitamins are just pseudoscience dude,” pierre said but isack popped his head into the circle to say, “vitamins are real? and vitamin d deficiency is actually a really huge problem.”
“thank you isack!”
“as if i’m taking health advice from a rookie,” pierre laughed. yuki took his turn to pipe up next, “i saw you eat a whole jar of peanut butter in one sitting last winter break? what do you know about health?”
“why is it gang up on pierre hour? why aren’t we focusing on the real issue here? like how pathetic max is about y/n?”
max sputtered as even more drivers joined the conversation.
“i am not pathetic. brando is practically my son. kimi back me up, doesn’t he love me?”
“he does -” kimi started defending max before charles butted in with a: “calling for help from the other son? we see how it is verstappen.”
this was a losing battle. max just hoped it stayed this light hearted but he saw lando and george approaching the group.
“max is not my dad, but i wouldn’t mind. he drove all the way to nice to pick up my parcel because i didn’t understand monaco postal charges!”
poor kimi was trying to help, but he was just making it inadvertently worse.
“this is making your pseudoadoption last year look like child’s play, oscar,” alex said, earning him a whack from charles.
“kimi is not my son, but that doesn’t mean i won’t look out for him. this is a horrible place to come when you’re already disliked. some people, not naming names, have made it clear they have a problem with him and y/n, so it’s simply my moral duty to look out for him.”
the group quietened down, looking amongst each other.
“why am i so out of the loop, who is bullying this literal child?” nico said, pulling kimi into his chest, the italian letting out a squeak as the german petted him. “so? do tell.”
for two people who were very eager to call y/n and kimi every name under the sun just a week ago, they were very silent in that moment.
“oh! we’re talking about the lovely cocktail party i threw that was ruined by lando and george!” charles blurted out, he grabbed fernando’s hand, “it was so nice, i even brought olives, but they came in spouting all this shit about y/n and kimi and seduction and older women?”
both brits scratched the backs of their necks. the cocktail party drama was not a good move from them, especially so close to the start of the season.
“it wasn’t quite like that?” george hurried out.
“you accused y/n of trying to sleep with me?” oscar said.
“you said that i was going the max verstappen route of getting with an older ‘problematic’ woman?” kimi added from nico’s side.
“you also kinda implicated yourself in y/n’s crash?” alex heaped on for good measure.
“alex!?” george and lando shouted, “whose side are you meant to be on?”
“i’m not on a “side” because i’m not fucking five, but i will point out hypocrisy and stupidity and that’s both of you. come on, it’s 2025 and you guys are still stuck in like 2017.”
“right, i feel really stupid because what the fuck are you people talking about and why wasn’t i invited to this party?” fernando said, a confused look on his face.
“lando and george are still hung up on y/n years later even though she never actually expressed interest in them, max has the best odds on actually sealing the deal and i don’t know, kimi is getting shit because he brought her back and none of them can actually regulate their emotions!” charles said, exasperated, “keep up grandpa, you’ve been here the whole time!”
“i do not have the ‘best odds’ because y/n isn’t a horse, you don’t bet on women?” max bit back.
“actually i bet on women all the time,” yuki said but when he saw how the group were looking at him he added, “ufc, duh!”
even as they were herded towards the backstage, the group continued bickering like children.
“all i’m saying is that your crush is super obvious and you need to be careful! y/n will know and will use it against you, just look at what happened with me and george!” lando hissed at max.
the dutchman glared at the brit, this really had gone too far. “can you like actually give me an example of where she ‘led you on’ i am genuinely curious,” max snipped, “quickly.”
lando immediately looked at the floor and bit his lip. max began tapping his foot with an impatient look.
“well she would be super flirty with me in the videos the team would make us film?” lando didn’t sound convinced, and max didn’t buy a single second of it.
“if that’s what you think flirting is i feel sorry for all of your ex girlfriends, you must be a horrible boyfriend - ouch!” charles was cut off by a shove from george.
“stay out of this charles!”
“i won’t stay out of this, y/n is actually a friend of mine. yeah that’s right she doesn’t hate me because i don’t assume that any girl who is fractionally nice to me is in love with me.”
“lando you basically tortured that girl her entire formula one career, do you need to do it now as well?” max said, “i think this season will be a lot easier for you if you drop this now.”
“is that a threat?”
“it’s a promise.”
all the bickering surrounding the pair ceased, tension rising in the air. the call for the mclaren boys drew lando out of his stare down with max. the brit joined oscar at the front of the queue and painted on his PR smile.
y/n had found her way to her seat, flanked by natalie pinkham on one side and jenson button on the other. there goes her plans for a quiet evening.
“so the rumours are true,” jenson said before jumping up to give her a hug, “i’ve missed you, rocky”
y/n flushed at the nickname. since her first ever race in formula one, jenson had crowned her his ‘pocket rocket’ which had eventually been worn down to just rocky. she hadn’t heard it in so long, jenson’s appearances being relegated to messages via sara or flowers that only gave away his identity with the use of rocky.
“did sky set up this seating arrangement? are you going to ambush me for an interview?”
“i can’t believe you’d think so low of me,” jenson clutched at his imaginary pearls, “and as if you can say no to me anyway.”
the pair took their seats as the show started. natalie handed her a glass of champagne and whispered in her ear, “you might need this.” well that doesn’t bode well.
the two mclaren drivers made their way out onto stage, joined by zak and andrea. y/n leaned into jenson, “i don’t understand why he insists on being everywhere, have we not suffered enough?”
jenson tried to stifle his laugh, “are you sure you don’t want to work in commentary?”
“i think it’s best i keep my opinion on these men to myself.”
the mclaren spiel followed the closely the same scripts they used when y/n still raced for them, though a healthy dose of constructors champions boasting had been added. a second questionable decision from formula one reared it’s head when nico rosberg asked his first unscripted question:
“so boys, how do you feel about the return of former mclaren driver y/n y/ln to the paddock? excited to see her?”
y/n swore she could see lando’s eye twitch from her front row seat. there was an awkward pause and y/n could feel the rest of the audience tense. even though the general public didn’t know the ins and outs of the fall out, there was definitely rising suspicion.
nico found y/n in the audience and gave her such a shit-eating grin that she almost didn’t care about the situation he just put her in.
“we’re of course over the moon to see her back in the paddock. i know i’ve harboured a lot of guilt as to how i ended up with my seat, so i’m happy that y/n can see me in action and hopefully i can continue to make her proud!” oscar said with a genuine smile, the only convincing one from the men clad in orange.
“continue to?” nico asked, “have you had confirmation of this?”
y/n’s eyes snapped to oscar who despite receiving glares from his boss, continued on.
“we spoke at charles’ cocktail party. i’ve always been a fan of hers and it was great to finally set the record straight. she was a lot more graceful than i would’ve been in her position. to be honest i was a bit of a weepy mess, but she was very supportive. i’m only slightly jealous of kimi…”
“very nice. did you get any insight on her opinion on hungary?” nico pushed, only to be cut off by zak.
“if you so desperately want her opinion on everything, you can wait until you’re on sky’s dime. this is a car launch, no? we’re confident in our car for this season and intend on winning both championships. and do you know how we’re going to do that? with the two drivers on stage right now, not one who was a flash in the pan four years ago.”
you could hear a pin drop in the venue. even lando had a shocked look on his face as he and oscar exchanged a look.
“that’s fighting talk from the man who ended her career, but what do i know?” nico said sharply but then turned to the audience, “ladies and gentlemen, mclaren!”
there was tentative applause from crowd and when y/n and oscar made eye contact she gave him a small smile. this was only the first team…
nico looked for y/n in the front row and gave her a thumbs up to which she shook her head violently. jenson burst out laughing, “well, i don’t think we’ll be having this as the car launch format again.”
“i don’t know about you but i’m throughly entertained,” natalie said, “if nico was like that with mclaren, i can’t wait for ferrari!”
the next few teams were decidedly less dramatic. y/n could see kimi and george lining up next to come on stage and she hoped the italian remembered her advice.
george walked on stage with confident strides, followed by toto and finally kimi. the italian looked out at the audience, squinting from the harsh lights but calming his features when he saw y/n. she gave him a thumbs up and got a smile in return.
“you’re loving this mum role aren’t you?” jenson said.
“you’re making me feel old, stop. but yes i would kill myself if anything happened to him, so i guess so.”
back on stage, nico had started his interview. first toto was being grilled about the hopes for the season and how life at mercedes would be without lewis hamilton. the german was clearly trying to bait his former boss into giving him a juicy soundbite.
“kimi, let’s come to you now. you’re first season in formula one and you’ve already brought in the big guns? y/n y/ln as your mentor, that’s a big statement.”
kimi looked startled and his eyes snapped to meet y/n’s. she nodded to him, urging him to answer.
“why wouldn’t i want a legend of the sport like her as my mentor? she still knows what she’s doing, and if it ruffles some feathers in the paddock at the same time, what’s the harm?”
she was so proud of her protégé. jenson choked on his champagne at kimi’s answer, “kids got balls.”
“well, well, well. you’re not beating around the bush are you? but do tell me, kimi, what’s so special about you that y/n would come out of retirement?”
“i’ll save that answer for australia, nico,” kimi said, surprised by the laughs from the audience, “but maybe i’ve just got a charm the rest of the grid doesn’t?”
“holy shit,” natalie said, “was this the strategy, y/n?”
“i told him to make them like him? are you not entertained?”
nico, for once, was speechless on stage. george huffed next to toto, waiting for his turn to talk. the german clocked onto this and a devilish smile broke out on his face.
“so george, you and y/n grew up together… do you not have charm? as far as we can tell, you haven’t spoken to y/n in years?”
y/n’s mouth dropped open. jenson was right, there’s no way this format, at least with nico hosting, was ever happening again.
“i have more than enough charm, thank you nico. are you going to ask us anymore questions about the season or is it all just tabloid questions from you tonight?”
“tabloid?! well, now that makes me think you’ve got something to hide… but as for your 2025 season, are you afraid that you might lose to an 18-year-old rookie?”
george sputtered in response, “i have no fear of losing, i just beat a seven time world champion, a rookie, no offence, has no bearing on my season.”
“that’s a big claim, george. you better hope you stick to it. it’ll be your sixth season in formula one, do you think you’ll finally be able to claim the number one driver role?”
george’s face was getting redder and redder as he tried to remain calm. he made eye contact with y/n briefly, giving her the subtlest glare he could.
“i think i made a very good case for myself for the last two seasons and toto has faith in me to lead this team back to where they should be.”
nico had a wolfish grin on his face, he was enjoying this psychological torture a little too much.
“you don’t think toto has more faith in kimi, a driver he allowed to skip an entire step on the junior ladder and is giving his formula one debut at just 18? and straight into a mercedes rather than say… a williams?”
george’s shiny mask was starting to slip. this was meant to be a fun event for fans but had descended into a nico rosberg masterclass of making everyone suffer - and for once y/n was enjoying it.
“classy as always, nico,” george said.
“it’s what i do best,” nico laughed to himself, “back to you kimi, are you intimidated at all by your senior teammate? do you think you can make a case for yourself as the number one driver?”
the italian paused for a moment, thinking to y/n’s advice - he needed people to like him.
“i’m more than happy to play a team game to bring mercedes back to the top,” he smiled to toto, “but make no mistake i’m here to win and i won’t just step aside without good reason.”
“well, this is a duo i’ll be watching closely this season. mercedes!”
the trio shuffled off of stage and y/n let out a sigh of relief, she could throw back as much champagne as she wanted now.
another couple of teams made their way past nico’s questioning, but as nico hulkenberg and gabriel bortoleto made their way off of the stage the audience held their breath. next was ferrari.
charles, lewis and fred vasseur made their way on stage, and as has become classic fashion, lewis situated himself as far from nico as possible.
“welcome, welcome. a different line up this year and much to think about, do you think you can finally bring the championship back to italy?”
fred started on what was likely a pre-written script and y/n tuned out for a second. the ferrari boys looked nothing short of glamorous in their tailored black suits with the yellow of the ferrari logo popping on the left breast. both men looked assured, no nerves, just pure confidence - the type of confidence that draws you to a person.
y/n caught lewis’ eye and he gave her a quick wink, something that did not go unnoticed by jenson beside her.
“what was that all about, rocky?” jenson whispered. y/n kept looking forward, ignoring jenson’s stare burning into the side of her head. the brit kept poking her, “i’m not going to stop until you answer me!”
y/n batted his hand away, “i don’t know what you’re talking about old man, leave me alone!”
“i saw that, hell, the whole place saw that! you are aware that is a man 14 years your senior!”
y/n downed her champagne and whispered to jenson, “listen, i don’t know what the fuck is happening! he came to my apartment and he’s being really nice? i don’t know?!”
jenson looked between the two and grabbed his own champagne. “i was teammates with that guy! you might be a grown up now but he’s really old!”
y/n slapped a hand over her mouth to stop her laughing out loud. jenson did have a point. was lewis actually flirting with her or was he just being nice? was she falling into the same headspace that lando and george were in with her?
“i am not going to get with lewis, jens. he’s just being nice, that’s all. now shut up i want to see if nico makes the brocedes breakup all of our problem.”
nico had finished his interrogation of charles and set his sights on his former teammate. y/n grabbed jenson’s hand in anticipation.
“so lewis, new team, new you? how do you feel coming into a team where charles has dominated for the last five years?”
lewis gives nico a forced smile, “i am excited for the challenge. there’s a lot of changes coming into this season, people leaving and new faces. it’s best to face a challenge head on rather than running.”
“you didn’t run from mercedes? you didn’t want to stick it out and retire with the team that gave you so much success?”
“you’d know all about running wouldn’t you nico?”
y/n dropped her glass of champagne and the rest of the audience gasped but nico did not look phased at all.
“i am happy with my decision, time will tell if you’ll be happy with yours. charles dealt with sebastian, don’t think he’ll roll over for you.”
charles looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but on stage and fred’s face would tell you he’s at the gallows rather than a car launch.
“was in your brief today to make the vibes in here as rancid as possible? as i said i am excited for the season ahead and nothing you can say today will change that.”
lewis took the lead and left the stage, leaving nico alone with a pleased look on his face. the german found y/n’s gaze again and wiggled his eyebrows. if there was ever a man you need to take the heat off of you, he was the one.
there was one final team to go and this entire nightmare of a night would be over. the final team was none other than red bull - nothing could possibly go wrong here could they?
christian, like the other team principals, started with a long-winded spiel that said a whole lot of nothing. y/n smiled widely when she caught max’s eye and he responded with an eye roll directed at christian’s rambling. the dutchman, for a second, had forgotten he was in fact on stage in front of thousands. the pair stare at each other and bite their lips to keep the laughs in.
jenson leaned in again, “not to keep questioning you, but what is happening here? and don’t lie, i know he’s the only one you kept in contact with and who you have been staying with in monaco.”
“it’s nothing! it’s something? i don’t know what it is? we’re just existing together. i think romance in the paddock is the worst thing for me right now. i need to be fully focused on kimi.”
“first of all - we’re exisiting together? that’s so fucking gross. and two - you’re still allowed to have fun?” jenson wiggled his eyebrows.
“not everyone can be the playboy of formula one, stud.”
“true. i’m not sure you have the devilishly good looks to be a playboy - hey”
y/n snatched his glass of champagne and turned back towards the stage just as max took to the microphone.
“so max, do you think there’s a chance of a fifth title in a row?”
max laughed in his signature way, “here i thought you’d gotten all of your aggression out with lewis. we’ll have to see how we line up against the other teams, but you always have to believe you can win every single race, so that’s what i’ll continue to do.”
a quick glance from nico told y/n that her peaceful night hadn’t started just yet.
“you’ll finally have your best friend back in the paddock, are you still excited even though she’ll be in mercedes uniform?”
“i think toto has another thing coming if he thinks she’ll be wearing that ugly uniform,” max said, “but it makes no difference to me what garage y/n is in, we’re like magnets, you can’t keep us a part for long.”
nico hummed, “is that why you were the only one she kept in contact with after the crash?”
“yes? it’s mostly because we’re best friends but also because i’m a decent human being.”
oh fuck.
“how do you mean, max?”
christian tried to butt in, “i don’t think we need to go into that here.”
“oh i’m more than happy to, and nico has been stirring all night, what’s just a little more to add to the pot?”
you could almost hear the audience shuffling to the edge of their seats and for the first time that evening, y/n felt some of the cameras on her. she gave them a small wave and hoped they would pan back to the actual action.
“all i’m saying is that there are a lot of victim complexes in the paddock, it’s full of people who would rather say ‘i don’t know why she doesn’t talk to me?’ rather than do some actual introspection. y/n will talk to you if you’re not an asshole, just as kimi.”
“so you’re saying there’s a truth to the rumours?”
“which rumours? you know, since your employers like to report on so many?”
nico chuckled, “well, the rumours that perhaps the brits in the paddock didn’t get on as well as we were led to believe?”
max smiled, “well, that’s not my story to tell, but i’ve found that if you ask them, they’re more than happy to give you the scoop.”
for a moment, y/n’s heart stopped, fearing that nico would take this as the chance to bring her into the fray. max seemed to sense this as well and added, “but as for me, i’m just happy she’s back in any capacity. i’ve missed my partner in crime.”
“have you spoken about formula one in her break at all? you won all four of your titles in that time?”
“i know she watched it, but we haven’t spoken about it. i respected her boundaries at the time, but i knew she was watching based on some suspiciously timed texts.”
nico laughed, “i’m not sure we can ever stay away from this sport for long.”
“i’m glad that is the case,” max said, more to himself than anyone else.
the red bull boys were ushered off of the stage as nico delivered his closing remarks and announced the musical guests.
“he’s glad that’s the case? oh he’s in deep,” jenson gasped, “you can’t tell me that’s nothing, i rebuke it right this second.”
y/n sighed, standing and heading to the backstage bar. “i really don’t want to think about it jenson.”
“but you’re staying at his house, he’s building shit for your cat and gushing about you on stage!”
“i am well aware, but i don’t really know what you want me to do about that?”
“i want you to get your man and let him treat you how you’re supposed to be!”
y/n picked up another glass of champagne, talking the biggest sip before replying to jenson.
“you’re just as bad as the girls on twitter sometimes.”
kimi bursts through the doors, back in his comfy clothes, and rushes over to y/n. she wraps the italian into a hug.
“i’m so proud of you!”
kimi blushes, rocking back and forth on his feet, “thank you, y/n! i’m so glad we’ve got this out of the way i’m ready to race now!”
jenson laughed along side them, “an eager one, this one. i remember when i had that much energy.”
the rest of the drivers flooded into the room, grabbing drinks or just taking a seat. max, much like kimi, made his way straight to y/n, also pulling her into his chest. he whispered in her ear, “i’m sorry i got carried away talking about you, i just can’t help myself.”
y/n can’t help but feel the butterflies in her stomach at the confession. she was really trying to keep her feelings out of her return to formula one, but seeing max like this was putting a real spanner in the works. the dutchman’s protective nature along side his intense respect for her made her feel special for the first time since the crash.
“i take no offence, maxy. i’ll never say no to a compliment, especially from you.”
the group moves away from the bar and as they settle into their seats backstage, max’s arm wraps around her waist. y/n knew she shouldn’t do it, not here in front of everyone but that’s what her heart wanted. the first few weeks into her return and all the drama was wearing on her and they hadn’t even made it to the paddock yet. she snuggled into max’s side, letting the dutchman brush her hair out of her face.
“y/n?” kimi said from the other side of her, “i’m really happy you’re here, and i hope you’ll let yourself have this,” kimi motioned to max, who was deep in conversation with jenson.
“don’t you worry about that, kimi.”
“you’ve punished yourself for years, please don’t keep telling yourself that you’re not allowed this. also don’t wait up for me, i’m going to crash at ollie’s”
kimi said as his departing gift as he went to catch up with ollie and watch some of the music. y/n let herself relax back into max’s hold and her eyes close, all of the pent up stress of the evening rushing out.
“are we really that boring?” jenson asked.
“do you want to get out of here, y/n?” max asked, when y/n flopped further onto him, he took that as his answer.
grabbing her bag, max took y/n’s hand in his and pulled her from the seat. the pair exchanged hugs with jenson and made a quiet exit from backstage. they tried to be as subtle as possible, but nothing is ever secret in formula one.
jenson slid in beside lewis at the bar.
“you want to tell me what your plan is with her?”
lewis looked at his former teammate in confusion.
“i saw that wink and i know you were flirting with her when you went to her apartment. what’s the plan, you’re 14 years older than her?”
“i don’t have a plan? i felt bad about how i was when she was in formula one, i’m just trying to make her feel welcome again.”
“and winking at her at a televised event is definitely going to help?”
lewis scoffed, “i don’t really like what you’re implying.”
“i’m implying that you need to watch your step, seriously. the vultures are just waiting for her to make one wrong step, don’t give them an excuse to call her a gold digger or anything along those lines.”
“and what if i said i did like her?”
“i’d ask you if you actually know her? you didn’t speak to her after the crash, you didn’t speak to her when she was in the sport so i’m confused to where this would have come from?”
“you can drop the dad act jenson, i’m just being friendly. it looks like max got in there first anyway.”
jenson hummed, “not everything is a competition.”
y/n and max climbed into max’s hire car for the weekend and finally let themselves breathe.
“that was a lot,” y/n said, slipping off her heels, “nico really was out for blood.”
“i found it entertaining, but that usually is a death wish for anything in formula one.”
the pair laughed, and as max turned the ignition, y/n’s taylor swift playlist crackled into life.
“are you heading back to your hotel or do you want to crash at mine?” y/n asked as she put her address into the gps, despite max knowing nearly every route across london to her apartment.
“a chance to avoid team duties for as long as possible? count me in!”
“so you don’t want to spend more time with me? just want to avoid your team?”
max placed his hand on her thigh, “you know i always want to spend more time with you.”
the streets were relatively clear at this time with the event still in swing. max weaved through traffic as they entered west london. the dutchman nestled his car in y/n’s spot for her pink cadillac that was still in monaco. y/n started to fiddle with her heels to put them back on, but max stopped her.
he walked round to her side of the car and picked up her up bridal style. y/n giggled and wrapped her arms around max’s neck. the pair made their way up to her apartment as fast as possible, but made sure to say hi to frank who not so subtlety gave y/n a thumbs up and a wink.
the apartment was quiet without the meows of brando who was also back in monaco with jimmy and sassy. max stopped in the kitchen to pour two glasses of water but y/n went ahead to the bathroom to wash off the grime of the event.
she slipped into bed dressed in her pjamas that consisted of some old gym shorts and one of max’s toro rosso shirts. the dutchman knocked on her door.
“come in, maxy.”
max made his way into the room, placing the glass of water on her beside table. he sat on the edge of the bed, “good night, try not to dream of me too much.” the dutchman leaned down to give her a kiss on the forehead before moving back towards the door.
“max?”
“yes?”
“will you stay with me?”
“always.”
max got under the covers and tentatively reached out to her. sensing the apprehension, y/n turned over and tucked herself under max’s chin. his arms snuck around her waist and for the first time in three years, y/n finally slept peacefully without the images of her crash.
fin.
note: sorry this took so long, i've been a bit of a writing rut but i'm back!
taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998 @xsilkesworld @justaf1girl @daddyslittlevillain @evans-dejong @abq654 @elizamoe133 @wierdflowerpower @t1nkerbel1 @okcurran @raizelchrysanderoctavius @skepvids @multilovebot @fernandoalonso14 @jules-kup-172 @m4xgirlie @rorabelle15 @minkyungseokie @formula1-motogpfan @peterholland04 @miureiz @freyathehuntress @lighttsoutlewis @aleatorio1234 @chaosandevelyn@blueberry648579@dog-and-cat-person230@fastandcurious16@obxstiles@cosmicwintr@becca388510@savagittariuspy@tibadi @thisbitxhs-blog @finn-dot-com @scenesofobx @moofilms @alilstressyandlotdepressy @nana-love-bugzzz @mayax2o07 @obsessed-fan-alert @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @jajouska @poppysrin @mimimarvelingmarvel @jiyumie @heeseungthel0ml 
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d4yl1ghts · 9 months ago
Note
Hi could I request a story where Anthony is away on business and his wife has a miscarriage while he’s gone
guilt
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anthony bridgerton x pregnant, wife, fem!reader
summary: anthony is away for business and you unexpectedly lose your child
warnings: miscarriage, death, pregnancy, self-blame, panic attack
-
You groaned as you awoke to an empty bed again. Anthony was away for business and he had tried to stay home but it was required for him to go. He never usually wanted to leave you but he was especially adamant now as you were with child.
You slowly rolled out of bed and dressed into your undergarments as you awaited the arrival of your maid. She came and aided you into your outfit of the day. It was a deep blue, elegant yet simple dress as blue was your husband’s family’s signature colour. “Thank you, Harriet.”, you dismissed your maid.
As the Viscountess, you lived in Anthony’s childhood manor and so Violet and his siblings still lived there. You didn’t mind it, in fact you rather enjoyed it because you would be intensely lonely right now. Outside your door, you could hear the laughter of his younger siblings. You sighed contentedly as you imagined your baby that would be born in around sixteen weeks.
Suddenly, Violet pushed open your door. “Y/N, how are you feeling today? How’s the baby?”, she greeted. It was tradition for her to check up on you every day now that Anthony was away. “The baby is fine. Have you heard from Anthony?”, you questioned, changing the subject. “No. I’m sure he’ll be back soon, dear.”, she took your hand in hers. You attempted to smile but it came out as more of a grimace.
“Well, I’ll head down, breakfast is ready so come down whenever you want.”, Violet smiled politely as she left the room. You sighed to yourself as you were left alone again.
After five minutes of staring at the ceiling and simply thinking, you decided to go down for breakfast. You noticed that all of the Bridgertons were already there but you couldn’t ignore the absent seat at the end of the table where Anthony would sit. You sat down and quickly ate your food before dismissing yourself. You were thankful that you had entered the time of your pregnancy where morning sickness was not present.
You grabbed a book from your room and got comfortable on the sofa in the living room. You huffed slightly as you felt a pain coming from your stomach but you just ignored it and continued to read. Francesca and Eloise had also entered the room at some point as Francesca was quietly playing the piano and Eloise was reading like you.
After half an hour since the pain had begun, the discomfort became inescapable, you just couldn’t ignore it. You began wriggling around to try to get into a more comfortable position and Eloise glanced up from her book in curiosity before letting out an immense gasp. Francesca also looked up from the pianoforte and widened her eyes in shock. You stared in confusion between them. “I’ll get mama.”, Francesca hurried off. “What is wrong, Eloise?”, you asked timidly. “You’re kind of…”, she just pointed down. You looked down at your dress and only then recognised the stain of blood. You worriedly cast a glance to Eloise.
“Shit.”, you muttered as tears welled in your eyes. Your breathing rate and heart rate picked up increasingly. “Okay, don’t freak out. That’s not good.”, Eloise stated, unaware of what to do in such a situation. Finally, Violet arrived with Colin and Francesca in tow. “I have sent Benedict for the doctor.”, she simply said. She then glanced down at your panicked form with an expression of pity. “It will be okay, Y/N. The doctor will be here soon.”, she eased your worries. You silently cried to yourself. The only person you wanted was Anthony.
Violet sat beside you, hoping her presence would bring you some sort of comfort. She wanted to give you some space. Colin kept checking the corridors for Benedict and the sign of a doctor whilst Francesca and Eloise watched silently from the side. They all had saddening looks in their eyes.
Benedict finally returned as the doctor came rushing in. Violet stepped up out of the as she took your sweaty hand, trying to console you. “Colin, would you write a letter to Anthony, please? Make sure it gets there as soon as possible.”, Violet whispered. The doctor measured the baby’s heartbeat and confirmed what everyone had been dreading: there was no heartbeat- the baby was gone. You instantly broke down into more tears.
Gregory and Hyacinth heard your sobs from where they were located outside the living room door. Benedict made sure they weren’t allowed in. Violet had been containing herself, she didn’t want to be all up in your face but she needed to cradle you in her arms for her own personal comfort. She couldn’t bear the thought of you going through it alone, without your husband by your side. She could almost relate to you.
It had been three days since the incident and also three days since Colin had sent Anthony the letter. You were currently lying on your side, staring out the window. It was what seemed to preoccupy your time nowadays. You only left your room to eat and you would eat very little. Of course the Bridgerton siblings offered their help but it was only one of the siblings you wanted.
You sighed as you turned to your door as you heard a knock. “Who is it?”, you uttered with a shaky and croaky voice. Nobody responded yet the door creaked open slightly and you saw the brown eyes you had been hoping for each time someone knocked on your door. Instead of running towards him as one would have expected, you simply sat there.
Anthony stared at you before cautiously and hesitantly taking a seat beside you. He carefully took you into his steady arms and cradled you like a baby. It was almost ironic. As soon as you felt his skin on yours, water cascaded down your irritated cheeks. He gazed at you sadly before allowing himself to cry with you. He hadn’t been able to grieve yet as he rushed over to comfort you as soon as he received the letter.
“It’ll be okay, Y/N. I love you so much.”, he hushed you. “Tony… I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.”, more tears slid down your face. Anthony gently held your face in his calloused hands. “Y/N, I did not simply marry you for the sake of bearing my children. I love you because of who you are. I do not care what happens in the future or what has happened in the past. I need you. Never in my entire life would I think of or even fathom a life without you. I don’t know who I would be without you. You are the lighthouse to my boat, my love.”, he confessed.
Anthony suddenly moved away. “I should not have left you.”, he mumbled as his breathing picked up. “It’s my fault. If I had been here to protect you, you would not be suffering so much, Y/N.”, he rushed. You recognised it as a panic attack. He sometimes got them as a result of his father’s death. You knew how much he struggled with self-blame. “Anthony, it is not your fault. You could have never have known.”, you whispered as you kissed his ear. “It is my body.”, you said quietly.
Anthony then pressed a kiss to your temple and then a lingering one to your lips in which conveyed the meaning and honesty behind his words. You knew that with him by your side, you would be okay. “I love you.”, you simply replied, unable to put your thoughts into words. You placed your forehead against his, getting consolation from his touch.
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finelinefae · 11 months ago
Text
rose [tattooH x innocenty/n]
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synopsis: Harry's a tattoo artist who can't figure out the best way to say how in love he is with the flower shop owner next door
word count: 10.5k
content warnings: smut (first time oral f recieving, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N), brief mentions of violence
read part 1 here
this is a lot !! like a lot happens !! also everyone smiles a lot,, i can't help it they're happy
. . .
Harry had come to the conclusion that of all the things he had had to do in his twenty-six years of life - all the things he had to do and say to get where he was today - saying I love you to his girlfriend was proving to be one of the most intricate tasks he had encountered.
And it wasn't because he didn't love her. From the moment she stepped into his tattoo shop with determination and fear all intertwined into one expression right up until now, he was pretty sure his relationship with Y/N was the physical embodiment of what it meant to be loved and to love in return.
He had learnt so much about the sweet, pretty girl next door. From her little habits and small quirks that she didn't think he ever noticed.
Y/N loved wearing Harry's clothes. He had bought a new band tee from an online shop one of his friends had recommended to him. When the parcel hadn't arrived on time, he wondered if it had gotten lost in transit or they'd delivered it to the wrong address. He had emailed them once or twice to see its whereabouts only to find the Fleetwood Mac t-shirt on the body of his girlfriend asleep on his sofa when he came home from work. "But Harry, they're so soft and comfy!" She argued when he accused her the next morning. "Know that baby but I need clothes to wear." He was trying not to smile and pinch her cheeks when he caught a glimpse of her pouty lips. "But Harry-" He couldn't help but interrupt her with a quick kiss to her lips, "Can use some of my old shirts flower, y' can pick them out. C'mon sweet girl," He led her to his wardrobe and let her scramble through the box of his old shirts.
She loved being praised. Harry thought it was the cutest thing ever when he'd compliment her or tell her how good she was for him and her cheeks would turn a dusky pink colour. He'd often find himself kissing the crescent moon-shaped dimples on her cheeks whenever she'd beam up at him after he mumbled sweet praises into her ear, "M' good girl," He'd say, "Best girl, m' favourite flower."
She loved physical touch from him and him only. His favourite time of day was coming home after a busy day of working and finding his darling girl sitting up in bed, either reading or watching TV, waiting for him in his favourite soft, satin pyjamas she wears (he loved the feel of them under his hands whenever he held her). She'd make grabby hands for him as soon as she saw him walk through the door of her bedroom, wanting to touch him almost immediately. He'd kiss her a few times, run his fingers through her hair, stroke her cheek and brush his fingers over her arm. Even when they were walking through the streets of the town, Y/N would often cling to Harry - feeling anxious being around too many people. He'd comfort her with soothing touches, rubbing circles on the pulse point on her wrist to make sure she was okay.
There were so many things Harry had come to adore about his favourite girl in the entire world. From the way she'd look at him with big rounded eyes as though he hung up the moon and stars in the sky or knew the answer to everything she asked, to the way she'd melt under his touch whenever they'd do something even slightly intimate. He was so in love... He just didn't know how to tell her that.
Harry had never been in a serious relationship before so the idea of love didn't come easy to him. He had spent the majority of his life believing he was destined to be lonely, finding himself in one-night stands and never getting past the first date for lack of connection. He didn't know what romantic love looked like, felt like or even if it existed at all until he met his favourite flower. 
Moments would crop up where he could feel the first syllable spike the tip of his tongue but invisible hands wrapped themself around his neck as he tried to let the words out. Y/N would sit patiently, waiting for him to continue speaking, but he'd just end up kissing her, hoping he could communicate his words without saying them.
He wasn't quite sure what he was expecting when it came to saying those three simple words, words that carried so much weight between them. Maybe it was because he wanted the moment to be special and memorable for her, so he waited for the perfect opportunity to confess. But the anticipation was driving him a bit crazy.
It was very early Wednesday morning. Y/N was cutting up sheets of tissue paper since it was nearing winter and people would be out buying gifts soon for their loved ones. She had ordered a bunch of new seed packets and planned to make little gift sets to sell.
Harry was sitting at the workshop table in the middle of the shop. He was wearing his shorts and a black hoodie with the hood pulled over his head. He wore his worn-out, white Vans as if they were slippers, with the left shoe dangling precariously from his toes, threatening to slide off at any moment. His tired eyes tried to remain focused on counting the coins for Y/N's till since she always miscalculated and would have to go visit him for more money even though his shop was cashless which he reminded her every time as he slipped her a five-pound note from his own back pocket.
The shop was silent in the early hours of the morning as the two worked separately. Y/N enjoyed that she didn't constantly have to make conversation with her boyfriend for him to be interested. They were happy to just be in each other's company for as long as possible.
"Baby," Harry's raspy voice broke the comfortable silence between them. Y/N's head lifted naturally in response, "C'mere." He opened his arm out but his eyes were still trained on counting the coins.
Y/N smiled tiredly and walked over to him, tucking herself into his side and holding onto the arm that wrapped around her. He kissed the top of her head, "Didn't get to hold y' this morning, left me cold." He murmured against her.
"M sorry, H. It's always stressful when the season changes." She sighed, thinking about all the work she still had yet to do before autumn passed.
"S okay, just missed you is all." He hummed. Y/N turned herself so she was pressed against the worktop and looking up at him. She loved every version of Harry at all times of day but something about Harry in the morning made her swoon. He was so soft and cuddly, needy and grabby, she'd always have to pry his hands off of her in the morning so she could get to work on time.
Y/N grinned and leaned her head forward, past the hood of his sweatshirt, to kiss him. "Wanted to ask you if y’ would come on a date with me this Saturday.” He whispered, eyes still closed from kissing her.
Every eight weeks, Y/N’s shop would close for the entire weekend. Since her shop was open most days, she wanted to give herself at least some time off to look forward to. Harry knew that particular weekend was coming up because of how much she was looking forward to it so he made sure to free up his weekend too so he could take her out for the day. 
They had been on dinner dates and done a few other things here and there but there was only so much they could do in their small town. So as soon as he thought of the idea, he booked train tickets to take Y/N to the coast for the day. 
“Hmmm,” Y/N sighed, reaching into his hood to wrap her arms around his neck, his skin warm against her touch. “Where would we go?”
“S a surprise,” He whispered into her ear, his breath warm. 
“I’d love to go on a date with you Harry,” She replied, voice soft. 
“Yeah? It’ll be cold so you’ll need to wear a sweater.” He told her. 
"I only own sweaters," She rolled her eyes, pushing away from him so she could get back to work.
"Yeah, my sweaters." Harry teased.
Y/N narrowed her eyes, "Get back to counting those coins or you'll be fired."
"Yes ma'am," He couldn't stop smiling to himself as he carried on counting each penny.
. . .
The small train was busy on the way to the coast on Saturday morning but luckily they had managed to grab two seats next to each other by the window. Y/N insisted that they listened to one of the very many playlists she had curated for them both to listen to. It wasn’t long into their relationship that Harry had come to realise that music was one of Y/N’s love languages. 
He remembered when he first moved in and heard her music through the walls of her apartment as he bought his food shopping up the stairs his first night. The music played well into the night and he had planned to knock on her door and ask her to turn it down like she had done to him the day they had first met, but his ears caught onto her singing. He pressed his ear up against the door and listened as she sang to herself whilst dishes clinked together. She wasn’t the best singer he had ever heard but something about her soft voice soothed him, so he turned around and went about his night with the girl singing next door. 
Y/N pulled out her wired earbuds not long after they’d sat down and gave one of them to Harry. After Hours by The Velvet Underground started playing and Harry smiled to himself as he watched Y/N gaze out the window of the train. He reached for her hand which was covered by her fingerless gloves she had crocheted herself and intertwined their fingers together. 
The train pulled into the final station an hour later. Harry held tightly onto Y/N as people bustled to get on and off the train at the same time. The weather wasn’t perfect when they had arrived - slightly overcast and grey - but it didn’t stop Y/N from gasping at the sight of the ocean in front of her. 
“Harry look!” She pointed as the waves rolled into the shore. She looked adorable in her white hat and earmuffs, her white puffer coat made her look like a giant marshmallow. She was almost matching Harry, in his black puffer coat and green bobble hat. 
“Y/N! Slow down baby,” He called for her as he ran to catch up with her. 
They walked down the steps and onto the beach which was practically void of any people other than a few dog walkers. He was thankful he had told her to wear a thick coat since the wind was bitter and cold. Harry’s smile was so wide, that his dimples pierced each one of his cheeks as he watched her run around in her UGG boots and leggings. 
“Beautiful,” Harry whispered, hoping the words would get caught in the wind and blow straight to her so she could hear them. 
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen the sea,” She closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh sea air. Harry came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. 
They walked side by side with each other. Harry held Y/N’s hand inside the pocket of his coat and every once in a while, she would stop to pick up a shell which she would pass to him to put in his other coat pocket. At some point, it started to drizzle down with rain but they carried on walking and talking along the beach. 
Harry would watch as Y/N ran up to the sea to pick up bits of sea glass and try to not get caught by the water. She looked adorable as she ran up the beach looking back at him with her woolly hat and giant coat swamping her. Strands of hair stuck to her damp, rosy cheeks as rain dripped from her coat since they had been out so long. He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of her as she crouched down to look at something she’d found in the sand. He made a mental note to share it on everything he possibly could so everyone in his life would know how much he loved her, even if she didn’t know just yet. 
Harry swore he was going to tell her he was in love with her right there and then but his heart fell out of his chest when he watched her trip and stumble back onto the sand. “Y/N,” He rushed over, immediately wanting to check if she was okay, only to be met with her giggling and laying back on the sand like a starfish on land. 
“Lay here with me,” She patted the spot next to her. 
The last thing Harry wanted to do was get his new black trousers wet and dirty from the sand but he would do anything and everything she asked him to do so he fell onto the sand and laid right next to her. 
His pinky finger hooked with hers as they both looked up at the sky, “Are you happy flower?” He asked.
“I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life,” She confesses and the words make Harry’s heart grow ten times the size. “I think spending time with you is when I’m the happiest Harry.”
When it reached past midday, Harry took Y/N to grab something to eat before they had to take the train home again. Their coats were dripping when they stepped inside the small cafe Harry had picked out for them. The kind owner had even offered to dry them both for them before they had to leave again. 
“Harry,” She gasped, “They do blueberry pancakes!” 
Harry smirked, not wanting to tell her that he had picked this cafe specifically because they made one of Y/N’s favourite foods, “Really? Tha’s your favourite right baby?”
She nods, “I’m gonna get that- ooo it even comes with the option of honey or syrup!” Y/N beams. 
By the time their food had arrived, they were well invested in conversation, “Was thinking of getting my ear pierced next weekend. One of my mates has free space and thought it would be fun to get a hoop or something.” Harry tells her. 
Y/N paused on chewing her pancake as she pictured her boyfriend with a hoop earring. She swallowed down her food before getting out, “That would be hot.”
Harry laughs at her bluntness, “Yeah?” He smirked, “You think so?” Y/N nodded, her cheeks tinged pink. 
Although they kissed and made out at any spare moment they could, they hadn’t really branched out from the time Harry had touched her for the first time. Y/N knew Harry was trying to be patient about it - he was a gentleman like that - but she was going crazy not having his ring-clad hands touching her skin, providing that ecstasy he had given her a glimpse of for the first time.  
“Y alright there flower?” Harry crooned, “Anything on your mind you’d care to share.”
Y/N shook her head, ridding them of her dirty thoughts, “M okay, H.” 
“Alright,” His eyes twinkled as he smiled at her, “You look beautiful by the way.”
“Thank you, Harry,” Her eyes softened, “And thank you for bringing me here today, I’ve loved being here with you.”
Harry parted his lips as if to respond, but found himself speechless, the words trapped somewhere in his throat. Y/N looked at him expectantly, her eyes silently urging him to express whatever was on his mind. With a sigh, his shoulders slumped, and he finally spoke, "I've loved being here with you too. I love every moment I get to be with you." Y/N beamed as Harry inwardly cursed himself for being unable to articulate the depth of his feelings. Yet, as he saw the radiant smile spread across Y/N's face, he couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and contentment wash over him, knowing that his words were enough to reach her for now. 
After the train journey home, which took slightly longer than anticipated, Harry carried Y/N up to her apartment and into her bedroom where he slumped her down on her bed. Y/N hummed at the feeling of her warm, cosy sheets beneath her. “Comfy m’love?” He grinned, tugging the sleeves of his coat off so he was just in his white t-shirt and black trousers. 
“I’m so sleepy,” Y/N sighed, eyes closed whilst Harry tugged her shoes off as her feet dangled over the edge of the bed.
“Cause you’ve been running around all day huh? Could barely keep up with you half the time.” Harry briefly massages the souls of her feet after taking both her shoes off, knowing they were probably aching from running on the beach all day.
“But it was sooo much fun,” Y/N whined, her tired eyes peering down at Harry.
“Yeah, yeah, I know that lovie. Need to get y’ out of these clothes so I can put them in the wash.” He tugs on her leggings.
“Can you do it?” Y/N asks, “M too tired.”
Harry pauses, “Y’ sure baby? Don’t want y’ to be uncomfortable.” 
“M sure Harry, I trust you.” She tells him.
He smiles to himself as her words settle in the space between them. A smile curves his lips almost involuntarily, reflecting the quiet gratitude he feels towards her trust.  “Alright, lift y’ hips for me, flower.” He instructs and Y/N does as she’s told, lifting her hips so he can pull down her leggings leaving her in her pink lacey panties. 
Harry swallows as he sees the apex of her thighs. He hadn’t seen this much of her before and he could already feel himself harden in his jeans at the sight of her. “Think y’ can sit up for me flower? Jus’ so I can’t take your sweater off?” He tries to stop staring at her bare legs but he can’t seem to take his eyes away.
Y/N groans but does as she’s told, sitting up and putting her arms up so Harry can remove the sweater from her torso. Her eyes are still shut and Harry gently pulls the soft sweater over her head. 
When her eyes open, the first thing Y/N sees is Harry standing above her with his gaze fixed on her figure and she realizes this is the most he's ever seen of her yet. She had nothing but a vest and underwear to cover her body. Y/N was pretty sure he could see the curve of her breasts and the outline of her nipples through the thin, white material. 
“Harry…” she whispers, suddenly realising what was happening, how the temperature in the room had suddenly shifted.
Y/N shivered as Harry cupped her cheek and bent forward to kiss her. She leaned backwards onto the bed, resting on her elbows as Harry kept his hold on her cheek, using his other hand to place on her hip as he crawled on top of her. His hand was warm and big and his fingertips pressed into her skin sending a joint of electricity down through her body. 
They kissed and Harry groaned as Y/N uncontrollably rolled her hips into him, “Harry,” Y/N repeated, placing her hands on his chest.
“What baby?” He asks.
“I-I feel strange,” She confesses, not really knowing how to go about telling him what was on her mind.
Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “What’s wrong?”
Y/N shook her head immediately, “N-no nothing’s wrong. It’s just… Remember last time? When you…” she couldn’t seem to finish her sentence, too embarrassed to describe what Harry had done when he taught her how to touch herself.
“What about it?” He wonders, patience and curiosity on his face.
“I-I want to do it again but different.” She cringed at her words, “I mean, I want to try something new. L-like I want you to show me something new I mean.” 
Harry’s features softened, “Yeah? You want me to take care of you huh?”
Y/N nodded, relieved he understood what she was hinting at without her having to admit it herself, “Yes.”
“What do you want me to do baby?” He kisses down the side of her neck, Y/N’s head rolling to the side to give him more room to explore her skin.
“I-I don’t know,” 
“Oh I think you do flower otherwise you wouldn’t be asking for something new to try would you?” He sucks on the skin of her neck and she whines at the feeling. His green eyes meet hers as he lifts his head up, “C’mon sweet girl, tell daddy what you want from him.” 
Her mouth fell open and her heart beat erratically in her chest, “I-I need you down there daddy.” 
“Yeah? You want daddy to touch you down there baby?” 
“Y-yes daddy please.”
“Still so polite.” Y/N seemed to melt as he crawled down her placid form, he could do anything to her and she wouldn't mind as long as he was touching her in some way.
She suddenly gasped when she felt him blow warm air onto her nipple beneath her vest. “Can I lift your vest baby? Can you let daddy see these cute tits?” 
“Mhm,” She hummed, her body vibrating with excitement and nerves. Harry’s fingertips brushed the skin of her tummy as he pulled her vest up to reveal her breasts. 
“Fuck baby,” Harry groaned. “You’re so beautiful.” 
“Your shirt too!” Y/N insisted, feeling a little insecure as Harry was still in his white shirt.
Harry was quick to pull off his shirt to reveal his tattooed torso that Y/N had traced and slept on almost every night since they had met. Her hands were immediately on his warm skin as he kissed down the swell of her breasts. Y/N gasped as Harry gently pressed a kiss to her left nipple, sliding his other hand up to cup her other one, “See that? Y’ were made for daddy.” He said as her breast fit perfectly in his hand. 
“Daddy I need you,” Y/N whispered.
“Such a greedy girl.” He tuts, “Trying to worship you ‘n you’re just begging me to make you cum.” 
“N-no-” Y/N wanted to argue but Harry quickly kissed her lips before moving down her body. 
“Look at these pretty panties. Can already see you’re all soaked through them.” Y/N could practically hear the smile on his face. “Can I see baby?” 
“Y-Yes, daddy.” She swallowed back her nerves, even though Harry had already seen her down there, it was her first time experiencing someone be so up close. Y/N felt his fingers hook around the waistband of her panties until they were halfway down her thighs and waited for him to react.
“Fuck me,” Harry hisses. “Won’t ever get over the sight of this pretty pussy. Always manage to live up to y’ nickname, don’t y’ flower?” 
Y/N’s cheeks heat but before she has time to protest Harry leans forward and presses a kiss to her throbbing pussy. She snaps her thighs shut tightly and gasps, “W-what-“
“Shhh flower,” Harry kisses her knee and then gently hooks both her legs over either of his shoulders so she can’t close her thighs to hide away from him, “Daddy’s gonna take the ache away okay? Know you’ve been feeling all needy for daddy. Gonna do something that’ll help and put you right to sleep m’kay?”
Y/N swallows harshly and fists the fabric of the blanket beneath her. Her heart was racing and her belly was swirling with need and desire as she waited for Harry to do something.
He kissed the inside of her thighs, “You trust me?” He asked, waiting for her approval, “Because I’ll stop as soon as you say so, promise y’ that.” 
“Yes, daddy.” She said because she did trust him, wholeheartedly, “I trust you.”
“That’s m’ girl.” Y/N waited until she felt his warm breath blow over her pussy. His mouth pressed another kiss to her before she felt his tongue swipe across her slit. Y/N gasped at the unfamiliarity of it as he flicked his tongue softly over her to get her accustomed to it. His eyes looked up to see Y/N’s reaction at the first touch of his mouth. He smirked to himself as her breasts heaved cutely and her cheeks were flushed pink. 
“Harry,” she whimpered.
“S not my name flower.” He murmured against her. 
She tried to close her thighs but Harry’s head lay buried between them, licking and stroking his tongue against her. He wrapped both his tattooed hands around her thighs to keep them open, pressing his fingertips into her plushy skin. “Daddy,” she whined.
He licks up her wet cunt once more until he finds her clit. Y/N jolts at the sudden attention to her sensitive bundle of nerves. His lips pucker against her tiny, pink clit glistening with arousal, a whimper eliciting from Y/N’s lip. He moves his tongue in circles around it before gently sucking on the small bud.
Y/N’s a writhing, whimpering mess beneath him as he licks and sucks on her clit, her wetness coating his chin. She bucks her hips against his mouth and quickly removes one hand from the bed to weave into his hair. Harry groans as she tugs on his curls, his cock leaking precum in his trousers, the vibrations going straight to Y/N’s clit. 
“Daddy, f-feels so good,” She mewls, continuing to tug on his hair. Harry ruts his hips against the mattress, in hopes he could get some relief as he continues his assault on her pussy. 
“Y' so fucking sexy Y/N.” He grumbled, unable to stop his attention from her weeping, little cunt.
Her thighs began to tremble as she felt the coil tighten in her belly. Harry’s hand removed itself from her thigh and slid up the bed to reach for her hand that wasn’t already in his hair. He intertwined their fingers as if comforting her without saying anything. 
He paused his assault on her clit, Y/N whimpering at the sudden loss. Instead, he flattened his tongue against her once more before dipping his tongue into her hole a little as if testing the waters to see whether she’d like it. Y/N’s back arched and Harry’s hand left hers to place itself flat against her tummy to hold her still, the cool metal of his rings made her shiver as they touched her skin. His tongue delved in and out of her, using his other hand to rub circles on her clit with his thumb.
Y/N’s mouth fell open, her head fell back and her legs turned to jelly. “Y close angel girl?” Harry murmured, peeking up at her to see her blissfully zoned out from his touch. 
“Feels s’ good daddy, s-so so so good,” She babbled her head lolling from side to side. 
“Wanna cum baby? Wanna make a mess on daddy?” He urged her, feeling her core clench. 
She jerkily nodded, “Mhmmm,” She hummed. 
“Lemme have it, baby, daddy worked so hard, lemme taste y’ cum.” He hastened his movements on her clit and continued to lick and suck at her pussy, “Cum f’ me baby.” He coaxed. "Can't wait to feel y' round my cock someday, practically begging to feel y' tight, little hole. 'm gonna be the first and only one to fill y' up, isn't that right? Gonna let daddy stretch you out and fill y' up. You're all mine, 'm favourite flower."
His filthy words set Y/N alight. She felt the coil snap as pleasure rushed through her entire body and filled all of her senses. Harry groaned, continuing to press himself up against the bed until he felt his own orgasm building too, his lips staying on Y/N as she came. He lapped up her juices, riding her through her orgasm and tasting all she had to offer for the first time. “That’s my girl baby, so good.” He cooed. 
Harry’s eyes rolled back as his cock released inside of his boxers, his head falling to the side and resting on the inside of her thigh as he breathed heavily, “Fuck,” He groaned, eyes rolling to the ceiling. 
The room was quiet other than the sounds of them trying to catch their breath. Harry kissed the inside of Y/N’s thigh and worked his way up her body, placing soft, spongy kisses on her bare skin until he was face-to-face with her. 
Harry grinned lazily, his eyes tired as he brushed the hair off her face. His heart stuttered; he felt himself losing his breath all over again despite having just come down from the high of his release as he looked down at his girlfriend. Her cheeks were flushed and her skin was glowing from the afterglow, tendrils of baby hairs framed her face and her eyes were hazy and soft as she looked into his own. 
“Thank you daddy,” She whispered to him. 
Harry pressed a kiss to her lips. Her legs hooked around his waist as he circled his arms around her to pull her in tighter, “You okay? Was that good? Not too much?” He wanted to make sure she was okay before anything else. He’d hate himself if he did something she didn’t like or didn’t want to do. 
“M okay,” She smiled, her voice tired. He kissed her once more knowing she could probably taste herself on his lips. “It felt good.” 
“Y’ made me cum,” He admits, feeling the discomfort of his own release in his boxers. 
“I did?” Y/N’s eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. 
“Yeah, flower. That was so fucking sexy.” Y/N whined and tried to hide herself behind her hands. Harry chuckled at her reaction, grabbing her wrists to move her hand away and kissing her forehead before lifting himself from her. “Let’s get y’cleaned up.” 
Harry walked over to Y/N’s dresser to grab himself some clean boxers from the drawer he had curated from the nights he had spent with her. He also grabbed her some clean underwear and one of his shirts to wear to bed. 
In the bathroom, he got himself cleaned up and grabbed a cloth dampening it under the running water in the sink for his love who was waiting for him in bed. Harry paused at the door when he entered her room after he was met with a sight he longed to treasure in his mind forever. Y/N was lying completely bare on her bed. Her eyes were shut, her chest moving up and down and her hair was sprawled out around her. He didn’t know how he got so lucky with her, she was a living angel.
“C’mere flower,” He murmured, spreading her legs apart slightly and trying not to react to the sticky, glistening mess between her thighs. He placed the dampened cloth against her and calmed her down as she jolted beneath his touch from how sensitive she was. 
Once they were all cleaned up, Harry climbed under the blankets with Y/N half asleep against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and ran a finger up and down the length of her spine beneath her shirt.  "Sleep now, flower," he whispered his voice a gentle caress in the quiet of the night. The warmth of his presence soothed Y/N to fall asleep. 
In the hazy blur of her consciousness, she murmured, words slipping from her lips without thought. "Love you," she breathed, the three words escaping her lips as effortlessly as a sigh, yet she remained unaware of what they meant. 
Harry stilled, his breath catching in his throat, “W-what?” But Y/N didn’t reply, instead, soft snores left her lips as she fell asleep beside him. 
. . .
It was the Friday after Harry had taken Y/N to the beach. Fridays were always busy at the tattoo shop so Harry was working away until the late hours of the evening. Y/N sat on a chair, her legs swinging backwards and forward as she played a game on Harry's phone. The sound of the tattoo gun hummed in the air whilst a bossa nova played over the Bluetooth speaker. Harry was still working despite the fact it was nearly time for Y/N to go to bed (She had a strict regime before bed which gave her exactly eight hours of sleep each night). He had promised her this would be his last customer as she waltzed into his tattoo shop, ready to go to his apartment together.
Harry hadn't mentioned to Y/N what she had unknowingly said in her sleep. When they woke up the next morning, he gently broached the subject, asking, "Hey, do you remember anything you said last night while you were asleep?"
Y/N, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, just shrugged in response. "Not really," she mumbled, her voice heavy with drowsiness. "Did I say something strange?"
"No, not at all," Harry assured her, though inwardly, he couldn't shake off the weight of her words. "Just thought you might've had a dream or something." But even as he spoke, he couldn't shake off the lingering memory of her whispered confession, playing over and over in his mind like a sweet melody. 
"Y' holding up okay there m'love?" Harry checked in, working on the final few finishing touches of the tattoo he had been working on.
"Mhm," She smiled but Harry could tell she was getting sleepy from the way he'd caught her eyes fluttering shut when he glanced over at her.
"Can go sleep on the couch out front if you're feeling sleepy." He offered, wanting to make sure his girl was okay before he finished off the tattoo for his customer. He knew first-hand how grouchy she got when she didn't get her sleep.
"M okay here Harry," She insisted, thinking she was lying to him well enough over how tired she was. "Can I watch?" She strained her neck to get a better look at what Harry was doing.
"Course flower, c'mere," Harry pushed his chair forward to give Y/N space to stand behind him so she could watch over his shoulder. He pushed down on the peddle and continued the tattoo as Y/N watched over him.
"Does it hurt?" She wondered, watching the needle press ink into the customer's skin.
"Jus' a little sting but when you've had so many it's not so bad," Harry replied.
Y/N watched in fascination. She was not only impressed by the design Harry had drawn out and tattooed to the customer so effortlessly but also how brave people must be to have such a permanent mark on their skin. She tilted her head to the side, "I want one," She mumbled.
Harry paused, "What?"
"Nothing," She replied, quickly.
Harry had heard what she said but decided he'd bring it up when there wasn't another person in the room, knowing how shy she got around people she didn't know.
After completing the tattoo, he wrapped it up and chatted with the customer for a little bit. Meanwhile, Y/N browsed through his tattoo design sketchbook with a furrowed brow. Once the conversation was done, he shut the door behind the customer and turned the sign to 'closed.'
He walked over to his seemingly overthinking flower and kissed the top of her head, "Wha's wrong m'love?" He smiled softly, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her into his chest.
"Jus' looking H," She tilted her head back to look up at him, kissing his chin in the process.
"Didn't know we were telling fibs tonight flower," He teased, spinning her around in his embrace.
"M not lying," She hid her face in his chest because he always knew when she was lying and she was most definitely lying.
"Can you look up f'me baby just f' a sec," He murmured and looked down to see the prettiest eyes he'd ever seen, round and sparkling under the blue lights of his shop. "Woah," He whispered to himself.
"What's wrong?" A crease appeared in between her brows.
"Nothin' just...you're so pretty," She whined, nuzzling her face into his neck to hide her very red face. Even though it was hard to tell under the blue lights, he knew she was blushing. "Hey, no, can I have a kiss please?" He cupped the back of her head and pulled her away from the comfortable spot in his neck.
Y/N stood on her toes to kiss him, tasting the tinge of eucalyptus lip balm she had given him when he had complained of having sore lips from kissing her too much in the colder weather. "So y' want a tattoo?" He murmured against her lips.
Y/N pulled away, "I-I was just thinking but-"
"You're not sure?" She nods. "Don't have to get a tattoo today m'love, especially if you're not sure." Harry comforted her, seeing the uncertainty on her face. He kissed the crease between her eyebrows but her eyes were fixed on a tattoo on his upper arm.
"Where'd you get that?" She asked, her fingers skimming over the small design. It was a fine line drawing of a pair of angel wings with a flower in the centre between each wing. Harry had designed it not long after meeting Y/N and had only tattooed the design onto himself a few days ago.
"Jus' a little something I drew 's all." He shrugged, "Reminded me of you."
Y/N's lips parted like she couldn't believe what he had just said, "For me?"
He nods, "Wanted to have you somewhere on me at all times."
Y/N goes quiet and Harry gives her the time to think as he packs away his things to head upstairs. By the time he's finished, Y/N's tugging on his sleeve and looking up at him with rounded eyes, "I think I'd like a tattoo, Harry."
Harry bit back a smile, "You do?"
"Mhm," She nodded, seeming sure of herself, "But I want you to do it."
"Wouldn't let anyone else do it anyways flower." He pulled out the kit he had just put away, not feeling annoyed in the slightest because he loved this girl and would set up his equipment all over again even if she decided she no longer wanted the tattoo anymore.
Y/N shimmied up onto the chair and glanced over at him, "What are you wanting on you baby?" He asked.
"I want the same one as you please Harry," She says, referring to the tattoo of the angel wings.
He smiles, "Wanna match with me, sweet girl?" He kisses her lips quickly.
Y/N nods, beaming up at him, "Yes please."
"So polite," He taps her cheek before going to his worktop and drawing out a stencil with a careful hand.  Y/N sat in the chair with her feet hovering above the ground. She was fiddling with her fingers in her lap as she glanced around at the designs she had admired many times before when she'd sit and wait for Harry whilst he worked.
"M'kay lovie, where'd you want it?" Harry asked.
"Oh," She pursed her lips, "I didn't think that far."
"Didn't think that far?" Harry chortled, "How about on your arm?” He squeezed her arm softly above the crease of her elbow, "Won't hurt too bad if we do it here."
"Okay Harry," She nodded, trusting him implicitly. Harry wanted to smother her in kisses with the way she was looking at him like she would do anything he said without even questioning it.
Harry prepped everything, making sure he had all he needed to start the tattoo. He went a little slower than he normally would, wanting to give her enough time to make sure she was certain about getting the tattoo. He mixed up the ink and switched on the tattoo gun as Y/N lay back against the leather chair.
"Y' okay flower?" Harry checked again, expecting to get the same answer he had already gotten only for her to chew on her lip and scrunch up the fabric of the skirt she was wearing.
"M a little nervous," She admitted, blushing.
"Hey it's okay to be nervous," He cooed, dropping the equipment and rolling over to her on his chair. He leaned against the seat she was lying in so his face was up close to hers, he brushed a few strands of hair from her face and the feeling of his hands calmed the nerves Y/N was feeling. "It'll hurt a little bit. Some people say it feels like a little like a tiny scratch but you get used to the feeling."
"But what if you start and then I don't want it anymore because it hurts?" She realises she should have asked these questions before they had gotten this far.
"Tha's why you need to be sure you want it sweet girl. Don't wanna see you in pain either but it's a small tattoo so won't take long and it's on your arm which means it hurts a little bit less." Harry explained.
"Okay," She nodded, "B-but can you distract me a little? It'll help if you distract me."
Harry smiled, kissing her lips, "Can distract you any way you want, baby. Here," He removed the dog tag necklace he wore all the time without failure and handed it to her, "Can fiddle with this while I draw on you."
Y/N felt her shoulders relax a little as she felt the cool metal in her hands, "Okay Harry." His lips pressed against her forehead, "Okay Y/N." He grinned.
Harry pulled on some gloves and got the tattoo gun running. Y/N went stiff as the humming sound filled the room but she reminded herself of Harry's words and continued to play with his necklace. "Okay, ready baby?" He gave her one last kiss for comfort and then, when she nodded her head, the needle made contact with her skin.
She gasped as the tiny needle pricked at her skin. It wasn't as painful as she thought it was going to be but it wasn't comfortable either. She tried to relax but her muscles were all tensed up.
Harry tried to comfort her as best as she could. Whispering words of encouragement, "So good baby, y' so brave." He'd say and tell her it would be over in a moment even though a moment felt like an eternity in her mind.
"Is it over yet?" She was starting to feel the discomfort and was already waiting for it to finish.
"Almost angel," He cooed and finished up the final lines of the drawing. "There we go, all finished."
Y/N let out a long breath she didn't know she was holding and immediately her eyes flickered down to the tattoo Harry had drawn on her. She was in awe of how beautiful and intricate the design was and how quickly Harry had managed to draw it so perfectly. It was a perfect size on her arm, the angel wings matched exactly the same as the ones Harry had done on himself. She almost squealed with how happy she was with her first ever tattoo and how it was a permanent reminder of her sweet and loving boyfriend.
Harry grinned as he watched her face light up when she saw the tattoo, "'Y like it?" He asked, preparing the cream and wrap to put on it before she did something that would get it infected - they both knew she would do that if he wasn't careful.
"I love it, Harry!" She grinned, her smile lighting up the whole room.
Harry laughed at her happiness, "You're welcome baby." He applied the cream and wrapped it up before she could move anywhere. Instead of leaping out of the chair, she wrapped her arms around Harry and pressed her lips to his. He hummed, "Best tip I've ever gotten." He murmured.
"I kinda want another one," She couldn't stop looking down at her tattoo and taking in how pretty it was.
"Woah, slow down there flower, think you should wait a while until the next one." He repressed a smile. "But I'll happily draw up another one f'you."
"Okay Harry," She said, not really paying much attention to him.
"Alright c'mon, le's go upstairs. Wanna kiss you in bed if tha's okay." He quickly put all of his equipment away as Y/N gawked at her tattoo.
"I think I'd love that more than the tattoo," She sighed. Harry decided not to pull her up on the fact she was probably telling another fib. 
. . .
"Y/N is that a tattoo!" One of her friends, Shakira, spoke out.
It had been two weeks since Y/N had gotten her first tattoo and she still wasn't over how pretty it was. Every morning she'd wake up and look at her arm and tell Harry how good of a job he did.
"No wonder you're a tattoo artist Harry!" She'd say, to which he'd just smile and sit patiently as she rambled about how much she loved her tattoo and how she wanted him to draw her another one.
"Oh yes!" Y/N rolled up the sleeve of her pyjama shirt so her friends could get a better look, "Harry did it. Isn't it pretty?" She sighed, thinking of her boyfriend who she hadn't seen since this morning.
Y/N had planned a slumber party at her place a few weeks ago since she hadn't seen her two friends, Shakira and Layla, in forever. She'd known them since high school and were the only two friends she really had other than Harry who was also her best friend. 
Harry had promised he'd stay away and give her some much needed girly time. Although Y/N didn't like the idea of being away from Harry, she knew it was needed. He had some things he needed to do anyway and she wanted to give him space to do that too.
"Do you think he could do one for me?" Layla asked, her arm already littered with small tattoos.
"I can ask him for you if you'd like," Y/N offered, receiving a nod from Layla.
"What's it like being in a relationship?" Shakira asked, "I mean Harry seems the complete opposite of you, I'd never have pictured you together."
Y/N smiles, thinking back to their first interaction and how intimidated she was by him. Now she couldn't get enough of him, wanting to be with him and touch him whenever she could. "I know but Harry's... I don't know, he's not like how people assume. He's kind, caring and lovable. We have a lot more in common than most people think and even the things we don't have in common, Harry always listens to the things I have to say even when he doesn't completely understand."
"Awwww!" Y/N blushed when she realised she had been rambling too much again.
"You're so cute Y/N," Layla grinned. "And we're so happy for you. Harry seems like a great guy."
"He is," Y/N agreed, shyly.
"Have you said I love you yet?" Shakira smirked.
Y/N's smile faltered, "N-not yet..." She looked away from their gazes, "But I think I'm just waiting for the right time. Harry always has these moments where I think he's going to say it but he never does and part of me thinks he's still questioning it." Y/N admits.
Layla offers her a sympathetic gaze, "I'm sure he's just waiting for the perfect moment to tell you Y/N. Saying I love you can be a pretty big deal for some people."
"I know," Y/N nods in agreement, "And I'll wait for him, however long it takes."
Y/N spent the remainder of the evening gossiping and watching movies with her two best friends. Now and then, she would look down at her phone just in case Harry had sent her anything but nothing appeared other than a blank screen. She couldn't help but feel a little bit deflated that he hadn't checked in on her like he usually would but she quickly pushed the feeling away. Harry had other things he was doing, she'd see him later.
"Thank you for having us Y/N! It was so good to see you, we need to do it again sometime," Y/N stood at the door to say goodbye to her friends. It was nearing midnight and she wondered if Harry was in his apartment waiting for her.
"Thank you for coming! I missed you guys," Y/N chirped, she really did miss having her girlfriends around. She was so busy with work and spending time with Harry, that she rarely had time outside of those things. But after today, she was going to make it a priority to see her friends again.
"See you later Y/N!" Her friends waved as they walked down the steps from her apartment. Y/N smiled and waved until they were out of sight. She planned on calling Harry to check in on him and see if he was alright but a crash from his apartment halted her steps.
She paused, stilling herself so she could hear a little better. Another thud came from his apartment followed by a string of curses and something that sounded like a clutter of things falling on the floor.
"Harry?" Y/N called through the door but received no response. "Harry, are you okay? It's me, it's Y/N."
"Y/N," Harry's voice murmured through the door. Y/N relaxed a little at the sound of his voice but she was still worried about him. It wasn't normal for him to keep his distance from her like this.
"Harry, are you okay?" She rested her hand on the doorknob, preparing to open it so she could see him with her own eyes.
"I-I'm fine baby. Go t' sleep m'love. I'll be there in a little while," Y/N frowned when she heard him wheezing a little as he breathed between words. He spoke much too slowly compared to his usual drawl as though it was too much work for him to speak.
"Harry please, jus' wanna see you." She tries again, hoping he'll open the door.
"Promise I'll be there t' give you your kisses baby but I jus' need... a moment," Y/N's face fell.
"H-Harry you're scaring me," She said, quietly.
Harry was on the other side of the door, clutching onto his side. He was already hurting but hearing his angel begging to come in was killing him. He couldn't leave her out there. She looked the perfect remedy to his currently aching body when he looked through the peephole of his door and saw her already in her pyjamas, looking all snuggly and cute.
"Not tryin' t' scare you, dove. Please I'll be out in a minute." He hoped she would listen like she normally would. He needed enough time to clean up as best as he could so he could return to her- looking like the Harry she knew- but she wasn't having it, reminding him of just how stubborn she could be when she wanted to. 
"Harry, I-I'm gonna open the d-door. I have to see if you're okay," She spoke, clearly and carefully.
Harry looked down as the doorknob twisted. He wanted to twist the key and lock it to keep her out but he lost control of his own mind as he stepped back and allowed her to push the front door open.
He stood under the dim light of his living room. He had been meaning to get the lightbulb fixed but he'd been spending too much time at Y/N's apartment to remember.
Her eyes went from his feet all the way up to meet his face. Her lips parted and her eyes started to water, his heart ached at the sight. "No baby," He stepped forward, pulling her into him and holding her to his chest even though it ached to do so.
"H-Harry," She whispered, her voice cracking, "What happened?"
She pulled back and cupped one of his cheeks in her small hand. Harry's eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, he could have sworn every ounce of pain lifted from her touch alone. "Was out with a friend, you know, the one who deals," He explained, referring to Mike who Y/N had met. He didn't want to hide from her and she already knew he smoked weed regularly so it was no surprise to her when he told her he'd been smoking, "We pulled over so he could drop something off but I guess the customer got a little aggressive. He was probably on something but he was refusing to pay I think Mike said. I was in the car and all I saw was this guy trying to swing at him. I ran out to help him and we managed to get away before he had the chance to do anything worse but he obviously managed to get a good few hits in before."
Harry hadn’t remembered the last time he had gotten into a fight other than when he was a teenager just after his parents got divorced. He had managed to get a few punches in, making his knuckles all red and cut up, but he'd also been the victim of a few hits too. He had a black eye, a busted lip and a pounding headache from the impact of the punch he had received.
"Harry," Y/N choked on a sob, "Y-you could have been seriously h-hurt,"
"I know baby, I know." He cradled her head in his arms as she wrapped her arms around him, not squeezing too tight because she knew he was in pain. "But 'm here now."
Her eyes were red-rimmed as she looked at him, "You were helping Mike?" She asked.
"'s all I was doing baby, promise." He hated how worried she looked so he was willing to do anything to comfort her until she knew he was okay.
She pulled away, "W-where are you hurting?" She looks down as if checking him for any more bruising. He could see her visibly starting to panic, her hands shaking and her chest moving up and down rapidly.
"Hey, c'mere, c'mon now." He picked her up and brought her over to the couch, "M okay sweet girl, nothing to worry about anymore. Calm down f' me, please. Hate seeing you in a panic." He uttered to her, rocking her back and forth with her face buried in his neck. 
"You're all b-bruised," She whimpered, "Y-you must be in so much pain."
"Not anymore my love. Hmmm, my flower is here, takin' all m' pain away aren't you dove?" He kissed her shoulder.
"C-can I help you?" She whispered, eyes blotchy and red from crying a little.
"Wanna patch up m' bruises love?" She nods as if there was nothing else she'd rather do than be there for him. "Alright, le's go to the bathroom and y' can help me." He carried her to the bathroom and placed her on the counter near the sink. He grabbed a first aid kit from the cabinet under the sink and handed it to her. "Didn't know m' girlfriend was a little nurse." He smirked, a blush covering her cheeks.
Harry stood between her legs with his hands on the counter on either side of her. He watched her as she cleaned the cuts and treated the bruise covering his eye. He smiled when the tip of her tongue stuck out between her lips, "Be careful, I'll bite that tongue." He teased.
Y/N squeaked hiding her tongue away, but quickly composed herself, "You're not getting anywhere near my tongue mister." She sasses and Harry grins so wide, his cheeks hurt.
"No? You don't think I deserve a kiss baby? M in so much pain." He hides his face in her neck and presses spongy kisses on her soft skin.
Y/N giggles at the ticklish sensation, trying to push him away, "No, you can't, not until I patch you up and you stop getting into fights."
"Actin' like I get into fights every other weekend baby," He smirks, "Only f' you."
Her mouth opens and closes as she tries to figure out what to say in such a flustered state from his words. He takes the opportunity to kiss her, their lips pressing together under the low light of the bathroom. He hadn't seen her since this morning and had been missing her all day but knew she needed some time with her girlfriends without him smothering her. It didn't stop him from glancing at his phone now and then to see if she'd called him, just like she had done.
The small time they spent away from each other during the day made him all the more desperate to kiss her. He cradled both her cheeks in his hand, brushing his thumb over her cheekbones. She wrapped her arms around his neck and played with the baby strands of hair on the nape of his neck. "Missed you," She murmured when their lips parted.
"Missed y' too flower." He hummed, "Don't know what's wrong w' me to want you this bad." His hands travelled down her arms, his fingers brushing over her tattoo as he slid past it before he intertwined their fingers together. “Think m just a teeny bit in love with y’ to be honest.” He confessed. 
And suddenly they were both existing outside of their own bodies.
"W-what?" Y/N's eyes glazed over.
“Oh shit.” Harry cusses, squeezing his eyes shut, his face scrunching in frustration, “Wasn’t meant to be this way flower.” 
“Y-you love me?” Her bottom lip quivered, her brain not quite believing what she was hearing. 
Harry's heart was racing as he looked her in the eyes, "I love you." The words left his mouth and had never felt so right or so freeing. He couldn't understand why now of all moments was the time to finally say it but a piece of himself felt whole and all the pain from his body had left as he told her the three words that had been trapped in his throat for so long.
Y/N's mind whirred as she processed Harry's words. The air seemed to thicken around them, and for a moment, time hung suspended. She searched his eyes for any sign of hesitation, but all she found was sincerity and vulnerability. "You do?" She whimpered.
"Oh no flower, don't cry. Hate seeing tears in those pretty eyes," He began to wipe them away as soon as they fell from her eyes.
"I'm sorry," She blubbered, "I never imagined... I never imagined someone could feel this way about me," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Never thought I'd be in love either but here we are," He chuckled, "Love you so much, m'favourite flower." He rubbed their noses together.
Y/N's pouty lips sprouted into a beautiful smile, "I love you too Harry, more than anyone in the whole world."
"Y’ already told me that once before." He smiled, a mixture of adoration and a touch of amusement dancing in his eyes. 
“I did?” She frowned. 
“Mhm,” Harry nodded, “Before you fell asleep, you mumbled it and told me you loved me and when you woke up y’ didn’t remember.” 
“Really?” She couldn’t help but feel embarrassed knowing she admitted something so big in her sleep.
“Honestly,” Harry told her, “Think y’ were probably dreaming or something.”
“Is this a dream? Feels like it,” Y/N whispers. 
“S most certainly not a dream m’love.” Harry kissed her quickly, “Gonna love you forever I think.” 
She leant forward, running her fingers through his hair as his head fell back. He hummed at the feeling, biting on his lip to stop himself from smiling so much before burying his face in the crook of her neck - in the place he loved so much. "Promise." He whispered, lips ghosting her skin.
Their fingers traced lazy patterns on each other's skin, a silent communication between them. The room was filled with the hushed whispers of their love, as if time had slowed down so they could savour the sweetness of this very moment.
Y/N yawned which made the corner of Harry's lips turn upwards, "Y' done fixing me up now? Wanna go t' bed love?" She nodded, wrapping herself around him. He reminded himself to clean away the first aid kit in the morning, his priority was getting his girl some much-needed sleep.
She curled into him when they lay in his small bed, her head resting on his chest right where her heart was. She played with his hair and he ran a hand up and down her bare back underneath her pyjama shirt, "I love you," She murmured into the quiet.
He hoped she could hear his heart beat a little faster at her words, "I love you s' much, flower. With everything in me, gonna be mine forever y'are." He mumbled the words into her ear. 
Harry cupped the side of her face as her tired, glossy eyes looked at him with so much love and adoration, that he didn’t know what to do with it all. In the dimly lit room, they leaned in close, their breath mingling as their lips met in a gentle, passionate kiss. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, while hers tangled in his hair. They explored each other's mouths, lost in the heat of the moment, their bodies pressed together. Each kiss was filled with longing and desire, igniting a fire between them that burned brighter with every touch.
“I’ve never loved anyone before,” Y/N whispered to him. 
“Really?” Harry smiled. 
“You’re my first love.” Y/N has to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling so wildly but Harry tugs her lip with his thumb and suddenly her smile is so wide her cheeks turn pink.
“You’re my first and only love.” He murmured. 
She liked that and she loved him. 
This was exactly where they were both meant to be —with the person who had become not only their first love but their forever love too. 
A flower tattooed to his heart.
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mcumorningstar · 7 months ago
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Prove It, Cowboy
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pairing: dodge mason x reader
summary: after the player's ball, you find yourself without a bed for the night until dodge offers for you to stay at his, but when his mom and sister catch you sneaking in they get the wrong impression.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, dry humping, protected sex (p in v), dodge’s mom and sister being kinda invasive about his sex life (?)
a/n: dodge and his mom being so open about her sex life was so funny to me. this is kinda the reverse of a canon conversation... kinda! also i had a dream i went to one of dodge’s rodeos but he was flirting with all the girls so he was my enemy for a few days <3
A midnight sky hung over Carp, Texas when you arrived at Dodge’s house. Dodge put a finger to his lips fruitlessly as the front gate creaked loudly. The curtains of the front room twitched.
A female voice came from inside the house, “Dodge’s brought a girl home!”
Shit.
“That’s Dana,” Dodge sighed, fiddling with his keys and rubbing his forehead with a tight smile. Before he turned the keys in the lock, he turned to you, “Sorry, in advance.”
Your brows screwed together as he guided you inside.
After the player’s ball, Heather disappeared and so you were left without a bed for the night. God forbid you sneak into your own house and face the wrath of your parents.
Dodge came to the rescue.
A sigh fell from his lips at the sight of his mom and sister waiting in the living room doorway with excited smiles and hooded eyes. They behaved more like sisters than mother and daughter. It was sweet.
A dim lamp on the entrance table and the bright colours of the TV cast shadows across the room.
“Hi, I’m Y/N,” You smiled politely despite two pairs of unfamiliar eyes trained on you.
God they must think you’re here to sleep with him or something.
“Hi, sweetheart. I’m Jessica. You want something to drink?” Dodge’s mom raised her glass of red wine, “We’re watching Jeopardy.“
She was a very beautiful woman, cherub cheeks and bright green eyes. Dodge was all hard angles, he must take after his dad.
Dodge ducked into the sea-foam coloured kitchen to grab two waters from the refrigerator.
“I’m Dana!” His sister beamed. She shared an unspoken look with Dodge, who rolled his eyes. Before you could thank her, Dodge rejoined your side.
“She’s locked out and just wants somewhere to sleep,” He quelled their unspoken barrage of questions.
His mom nodded along, as if he was lying, “Okay well there’s spare blankets in the laundry room, condoms in the bathroom...”
“Oh my god,” Dodge cursed under his breath, “We’re going now.”
Jessica and Dana giggled behind their glasses of wine, the right side of drunk, “The book, Dodge.”
She winked with exaggeration, her filter totally gone with the amount she’d drank but she was clearly having a fun night in.
Dodge shook his head with a flustered laugh.
With a hand on your back, Dodge guided you to his bedroom. Your face flushed at the unexpected attention and the suggestive situation.
The two laughed rather loudly, saying how pretty you are and how Dodge will fair with a girl spending the night, for the first time you assumed.
The sound of the women stifling laughter echoed around the house. Dodge closed his bedroom door with a sheepish and apologetic smile.
His room was pretty plain; grey bedsheets, grey walls, rodeo trophies and medals, a bookshelf with framed photos on. It smelt like laundry soap and his cologne.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” He offered, tossing his backpack onto the carpet.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t bite,” You teased, as you looked at his collection of trophies and books, “Plus they already think we’re fucking.”
Dodge gave a quick laugh, watching you read the spines on the shelf.
“What book was your mom talking about?” You turned to him and his face flushed.
“You heard that, huh?” He mumbled, “It was a joke really. She thinks she’s funny.”
Even more intrigued by his avoidance, you sized him up with squinted eyes.
Dodge cleared his throat, tidying away a pile of laundry sitting on his bed, “They uh… god this is… They used to worry about me with- with girls. They thought I was a virgin because I never brought girls home to meet them or anything… and so for Secret Santa one year I got a book about… women… My mom insists it wasn’t her and that whoever it was was trying to be funny…”
There was a long pause. Dodge shied away from your eyes, his body turned away from you, despite the little air of embarrassed laughter.
Dodge cleared his throat again, “Super weird, I know. She had kids super young and didn’t want us to make the same mistake. Not that me and Dana are mistakes but it was hard for her. She’s cool about that sorta thing though. Dana’s ex-boyfriend used to stay over all the time and she didn’t care. So if you’re worried, she won’t say anything about you being here or anything.”
Another bout of silence fell between you as Dodge assessed your features, his lips pursed and shoulders tight.
“I think that’s the most you’ve ever said to me,” You laughed and Dodge visibly relaxed.
“No, it’s cool. Not cool but, you know, I wish my family were cooler about sex. My dad saw your name in my phone and reached for his shotgun,” You laughed, “Anyway, a book is probably better than drunk hook ups at the lake.”
“Yeah probably,” Dodge nodded, leaning against the bookshelf, and there was a lull in the conversation.
“Oh… did you read it?” You giggled, a flush of red creeping up his neck and ears, “You did!”
“You can’t prove anything,” Dodge shook his head with a half-cocked smile.
“But you could,” You raised your eyebrows and he furrowed his. It was a joke, he knew that, but Dodge steeled his expression and licked his lips.
“Yeah?”
You kept your eyes on his for a long moment before smiling, “Yeah. Prove it.”
You reached out and rested a hand on his stomach. His abs were tight and lean under his button-up shirt.
One by one, you unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, running your hands along the sturdy plane of his stomach and chest.
Conflicting thoughts ran through your head. Heather was like your sister and Natalie had been planning to win Panic for years.
Would fucking Dodge Mason, their competition, be a good idea?
Your judgement was clouded by the heat radiating from his skin and the smattering of hair on his chest. His dual coloured eyes watched your face as you stood before him, admiring him.
“I saw you like this at the jump but not up close,” You rested your hands on his shoulders, biting your lip, “Thank you, saddle bronc.”
Dodge couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his cheeks, as a sputtered laugh escaped his lips.
In one movement, Dodge threw you over his shoulder and deposited you on his bed, kneeling over you.
A soft line of kisses traced along your arm to your shoulder. With every press of his lips, you itched to feel them against yours, whining at the wait.
Pink and plump, his lips pressed to the corner of your mouth before he pulled back to look down at you, stilling hovering over you.
Taking his head in your hands, you craned your neck to kiss him. Each press of his lips had you sighing contently and the swipe of his tongue had you moaning.
Dodge licked into your mouth with fervour, tongue and lips colliding with no precision, only desire.
You hooked your leg over his hips and rolled him onto his back beneath you, straddling his hips.
Dodge instinctively gripped your hips and watched with kiss-bitten lips and doe eyes as you discarded your dress onto his bedroom floor.
“You gonna give me some tips, cowboy?”
Dodge groaned, your hands pressing against his chest, as he slowly guided the rocking of your hips against his.
With every roll of your hips, your tits bounced in the lacy cups of your bra. His eyes flickered between your chest and your pink panties, rubbing against his bulge.
Dodge groaned, tightening his grip on your hips, “Lean forward.”
Following his instructions, a loud moan escaped you at the change in pressure against your clit.
“Good girl, you’re doing so good,” He rumbled, rutting his hips against yours in a perfect rhythm. Warmth bloomed in your chest at his praise.
Thank you, saddle bronc.
His muscles rippled and bulged underneath your hands as the slick between your legs dampened the skin of your inner thighs.
Cupping a hand at the nape of your neck, Dodge guided your mouth to his, kissing you with pinched brows and deep groans. Pulling away from the heated make out and pressing a deep kiss to his lips, you sat up and unbuttoned his jeans.
Dodge lay back, stroking your thighs and watching you with bated breath. Pulling him from his trance, you hooked a finger into the elastic waistband of his boxers, twanging the material against his alabaster skin.
A smile twitched at his lips as he slowly sat up and kissed you softly, rolling you onto your back. Dodge pushed his jeans off and lay between your legs, the hard length of his cock pressing into your inner thigh.
Settling your hands on each other's heated skin, Dodge kissed you deeply and nipped at your bottom lip playfully. His strong arms wrapped around you, his hand palming at the globe of your ass.
Warm and plump lips mouthed at your neck, teeth tugging the strap of your bra from your shoulder and kissing at the newly bare skin. He unhooked your bra, tossing it onto the floor and laving his tongue at your pebbled nipples.
"Please, need you," You whined, clawing at his shoulders. Dodge pressed a final kiss to your chest before sitting on his haunches and pulling your panties down your legs.
With firm hands on your inner thighs, Dodge parted your legs and bit his lip, staring at your dripping sex. You squirmed under his undivided attention, hooking your calf around his waist and pulling him on top of you.
Kissing him deeply, you pushed his boxer briefs down his hips, dragging your nails across his back once his erection sprung free. The wet tip smacked against your heated skin.
Dodge kicked his boxers off and reached into his nightstand, tearing the foil of a condom wrapper with his teeth and rolling the rubber onto his cock.
Caressing his biceps, you watched as he hovered over you and lined himself against your entrance. You hooked a leg around his hip, gasping into his open mouth as he slowly thrust into you.
Dodge's eyes fluttered shut as his hips pressed flush against yours. A ragged breath escaped his lips, tickling the skin of your neck. Dropping his head to your shoulder, Dodge sighed shakily.
"C'mon cowboy," You rolled your hips, "Buck."
Dodge let out a mix of a soft groan and a laugh into your neck, "You feel really good."
A small giggle fell from you, scratching your fingers through his hair. You bucked your hips again and Dodge clamped a hand on your hip, pulling back and rolling his hips against you.
Picking up the pace, Dodge fucked his thick cock against the sensitive spot deep within your cunt. Sloppy wet sounds echoed around the room with each buck of his hips.
Sweat beaded on your skin as the coil within the pit of your stomach tightened. Your nails clawed at the rippling muscles of Dodge's back, his skin slapping against yours.
Groans tumbled from his lips, pressing heated kisses to your skin, silencing your loud moans with his tongue in your mouth.
Digging your heels into his ass, you tightened your legs around his hips, letting him push one against your chest and his cock sinked deeper into you.
A broken gasp escaped you before his hand clamped over your mouth and his hips stopped, pressing his weight onto you.
The sound of footsteps outside his door and the subsequent flicking of light switches and closing doors alerted Dodge to the presence of his mom going to bed.
Dodge met your eyes, willing you to be quiet, as he continued to fuck you. Your brows pinched together as your interrupted pleasure began to build again, noises muffled by his strong hand.
Pressing his forehead to yours, Dodge slowed his pace and you took the opportunity to turn him onto his back, keeping his cock nestled in your cunt.
A surprised grunt tumbled from his chest and his hands groped at your body, holding you against him. You wasted no time before raising your hips and bouncing on his cock.
Dodge moaned and his eyes rolled back, covering his own mouth. A sheen of sweat on his skin glistened in the limited light. Leaning forward, your clit caught against his pubes, igniting a hotter flame within you.
"Good," Dodge praised, brushing your hair out of your face and watching your tits bounce in his face, "Such a good cowgirl."
He tipped his head back further into his plush pillow and his knees bent off the bed, fucking into you, his body pulling taut at the impending release.
"Gonna cum," Dodge rasped, panting and licking his dry lips.
You couldn't form words, only nodding, meeting his eyes and rocking your hips with the uncoordinated buck of his. The band within you was one thread away from snapping before Dodge gripped your jaw and pulled you into a heated kiss.
White hot bliss coursed through your body as you moaned into his mouth. Dodge mouthed at your unresponsive mouth, too preoccupied with moans of pleasure to reciprocate his kisses.
Dodge pulled back to watch your orgasm wash over you before he hit his peak, white ropes of cum filling the condom as he groaned deeply.
Sinking into the mattress, you lay on his sweaty chest, both trying to catch your breath. Dodge discarded the condom in the trash by his bed and pulled you into his side.
His cheeks and neck were rosy with exertion and he ran a hand up and down your back, "You should try saddle bronc."
Fucked out, you laughed into his sweaty chest, "You should keep that book."
Slowly you drifted into a blissful sleep, bodies entwined and satiated.
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sehodreams · 11 months ago
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fanta grape
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TW and tags: threesome (late poly?), cheating, dubious consent (from smoking and drinking), toxic!Seunghan.
WC: 6.8K (okay we getting better at making shorter stuff)
Summary: Seunghan doesn’t need a clingy girlfriend, but Anton and Wonbin do.
Comment: I did say that pretty boys with fried hair were my weakness. I think the images make this look darker than what it really is, sorry if you expect something heavy dark, this is not it (except for Seunghan’s toxic behaviour).
7:30 PM was too early to give up.
You shifted in your seat, trying to concentrate on another thing that wasn’t the hour, how the light of the TV was slightly blinding you in the dark room, and how the skin under your thighs was sweating.
Half an hour before you had told yourself that nothing would make you leave without having a proper conversation with your boyfriend, but he not being there hadn’t crossed your mind, and you were just so relieved that his friends hadn’t asked you to leave, that the possibility of Seunghan not coming back with the knowledge of you being there just started to settle in.
Anton was already choosing a movie from the big carton box in Wonbin’s living room when you arrived, and Wonbin was picking a few beers when he saw you from his window, grabbing a fanta grape for you, perfectly knowing why you were standing there on his doorstep at 7PM.
Looking at the movie, between your boyfriend’s friends on each side, you tried to remind yourself why you were there.
Seunghan had dated you for almost half a year, he’s been your first everything, your first date, your first confession, your first boyfriend and your first orgasm, and everything was good, so you didn’t get why the sudden change with him.
Well, not everything was good, but didn’t all couples have problems? Why would he act so differently after some discussions and a few refusals?
It’s been days since the last time he answered one of your calls, and his messages were getting shorter and shorter, leaving you on read for hours and only answering when he knew you were asleep.
Sorry, been busy.
What kind of excuse was that?
You decided to have a talk with him to fix things, perhaps you weren’t paying enough attention to other signals, or perhaps he was getting tired of you not being able to go to his gigs and wait for him when he practised, but he knew how was your family when you started, so why was he suddenly pushing you to do things he perfectly knew you couldn’t?
‘’Can you call him again?’’ you asked Anton for the third time.
You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes while making that question again, but Seunghan wasn’t answering any of your calls, and you didn’t know what else to do, he had at least answered the first time Anton called him when you arrived.
You didn’t have to say anything for him to grab his phone and mark Seunghan’s number when you arrived.  ‘’She’s here’’ he had said, and he had tried to pass you the phone, but Seunghan had ended the call before you could talk.
Still, even having bothered him enough after that first call, Anton did it, he called him, and to prove he was doing it, he showed you how his name appeared on his screen, ringing a couple of times before the woman’s voice saying you could leave a message, and that you knew a bit too well by that point, started.
Seunghan was declining the calls of his friends now.
You shifted on your seat, looking down at your hands and the drops of the cold can fall over your uncovered thighs.
Feeling stupid, you bit the inside of your cheek, trying to hold back your tears to not show how much you were hurting in front of the boys.
‘’Baby, what’s wrong?’’ Wonbin asked, looking at your shoulders get smaller and you blinking the tears away.
He knew what was wrong, everyone knew.
‘’Seunghan is seeing someone else, right?’’ you asked back, hands gripping the metallic object in your hands, leaving dents on it, and making your fingertips change from the reddish lively colour they always had to a pale one.
Both stayed silent.
‘’I’m so stupid’’ you sourly laughed, drinking the rest of your fanta.
Anton stood up to grab you another one, you knew it, but shaking your head you asked for a beer instead.
‘’But you hate it’’ he replied.
‘’Anton, I’ve been abandoned, could you please give me a beer?’’ you said, hurt, and as polite as always.
‘’Try mine’’ Wonbin offered, putting his bottle in front of you and surprising you, but resting your hand over his holding the drink, you accepted that he maintained it in the air for you, moved it closer to your mouth and tilted it for you to drink it.
It tasted terrible, you didn’t understand why they all drank it like water, you didn’t see the point of getting drunk, and usually, when you went out with them, you ended up being the one taking care of your boyfriend at parties instead of the other way around, like he usually promised before he made you sneak out.
Feeling even sadder, you moved his hand higher and drank a bigger gulp of that beer with earthy flavour.
Making a face at the end, and pushing Wonbin’s hand away, you didn’t want to say out loud how bad it tasted so Anton didn’t say an I told you that reminded you of your dad every time you made a mistake, like dating Seunghan.
Anton gave you another can of your fanta grape and sat with crossed arms, focusing on the TV again to not make you conscious.
‘’Thank you’’ you said, and he nodded.
‘’Just drink what you want, we buy that stuff for you anyways’’ Anton said later.
You felt piteous, and trying to brush the awkward moment you put yourself on, when your eyes saw Wonbin’s stash on the TV stand, you interrupted them again.
‘’Why aren’t you smoking?’’ you asked purely out of curiosity.
They used to always share a joint after they finished playing the same five songs they had an entire afternoon, and the first times they had even invited you to smoke with them, or well, Seunghan did, until Wonbin told him to leave you alone if you didn’t want to.
You didn’t like to stay there for long for that reason, you wouldn’t do anything at all, yet you felt like an uninvited guest sitting and limiting them with your presence because of all the things you couldn’t do, afraid of making them hate you every time you walked there with Seunghan pulling you by the hand.
‘’I thought you hated when the smell stayed on your clothes’’ Wonbin replied, and it wasn't a guess, he had heard you telling it to Seunghan when he tried to convince you that a hit wouldn’t hurt you.
You didn’t hate it solely because of that, you hated that it was an aroma hard to mask, and your dad was not as hard on you as he was before, but you still trembled every time you arrived at your house after spending an afternoon with a high Seunghan, afraid of your dad thinking that you were the one smoking it, and the consequences you would have to face.
You hated when Seunghan tried to force you onto things he knew would put you in a lot of trouble, it was nice that he had pushed you to do certain things you wouldn’t have dared until you met him, like wearing skirts, buying makeup and going to parties, but you had explained your reasons in detail for not smoking, and he had continued insisting.
Still, you never expected them all to not smoke for something you had told your boyfriend in supposed secret.
‘’That didn’t stop you before’’ you answered, taking another sip of your soda and trying to brush off the sudden blush on your cheeks, maybe you were overthinking it, you tried to tell yourself, why would they do something like that for you when they weren’t even something yours? They were your boyfriend’s friends, and nothing else, ‘’you can smoke if you want, don’t mind me’’.
Frowning, you let the new can rest over your thighs, and feeling the intense coldness bring you back to the moment, you saw how Anton didn’t waste a single second to light a joint up, happy to finally do something with his mouth now that he had your permission.
He always preferred smoking more than drinking, so you couldn’t understand how he survived the ‘’not smoking’’ rule they had created without your knowledge, and even if you weren’t around that much lately for it to be considered a real restrain, it still surprised you.
That didn’t change the fact that you had taken care of him on a couple of occasions though. Just like holding Wonbin’s hair when he got extremely wasted and threw up in strangers' bathrooms, you had let Anton sleep with his head on your lap when he smoked and ate a bit too much while Seunghan or Sohee ran to 24/7 convenience stores for something to bring him back to life.
‘’Do you want to try it?’’ he asked you, and you, deciding to do something different for your break-up, nodded.
‘’Do you even know how to smoke?’’ Wonbin inquired, laughing beside you.
‘’I’ve seen you two doing it more than enough’’ you quickly said, sounding different from usual and making Anton laugh, because it was true, especially with him.
Passing you the stick, you observed it for a good minute between your fingers, debating in your insides if it was worthy, but then you looked to the side, at how the drums frames of your boyfriend reflected the light of the TV, and you remembered why you were there.
Taking in air, you breathed, then moved it closer to your face, and seeing the little tip, you sucked it deep and nice.
They watched you as if they were studying you, having high expectations of your confidence, and laughing loudly when you coughed.
‘’Calm down’’ Wonbin took the joint from your hand, showing you how to do it right.
His lips barely touched it, and he nicely inhaled the smoke, holding it in like a pro, closing his eyes, and then slowly letting it out. It was an honest lesson, but you felt as if he had challenged you, and letting him pass it to Anton, you waited for your turn to prove yourself again.
This time you did it better, holding it in for longer, and softly letting it out like he did, watching him look at you with that cheeky grin.
It wasn’t even 8:15 when you checked again, and you had until 10 to stay and then go home, that was your curfew and you followed it religiously to avoid problems. So, watching Rocky get beaten once again on a TV old enough to be in your grandparents’ basement, you decided to close your eyes and let the weed effects take you, with an I have enough time in mind.
You wanted to see what was that magic that made everyone love it.
Leaning on the back of the couch, after many minutes, you started to feel conscious of different things, like the electric sound of the people cheering inside the old TV, the sticky sensation of the dirty fabric of the sofa under your recently shaved legs, and even more, the boy's legs touching yours on each side.
Of course they would be manspreading, they were in an indie/rock/you don’t know what the fuck band, so the way they caged you between their bodies and made you uncomfortable to find their own comfort probably didn’t even cross their minds.
Your eyelids opened when you heard a loud slam come from the movie, startling you, and you decided to watch the ceiling above you, recognizing the little spots from the humidity you had disliked since you stepped into that garage.
Wow, you really disliked, to not say hated, many things.
Just realizing it, you noticed that you disliked that garage from the first time you arrived, you disliked the old green couch that Wonbin made your boyfriend push from three streets down to his house, you disliked the old TV with static noise that your boyfriend and his friends made you watch, and you especially disliked that your boyfriend left you aside for all those things you hated without a doubt.
Why were you even trying it? You asked yourself.
After getting stressed for so many days, you didn’t have the energy to keep blaming yourself for it, and when Rocky had his first date with Adrianna, you laughed with the boys at Rocky’s corniness when he followed her around the ice ring.
Having seen that movie more times with them than necessary, that was one of the few scenes you honestly enjoyed, concentrating on it even when your boyfriend made you mad after he dropped a bomb like ‘’sorry, forgot we had this gig later, so I won’t be able to go to our date’’.
Or perhaps you concentrated because Anton always turned up the volume when that scene came since he saw you liked it too.
Watching them walk the street, you leaned to Wonbin’s side without noticing. His leather jacket felt glue-like against your cheek, but you didn’t mind, and looking at Rocky ramble about his turtles to catch Adrianna’s attention, you laughed when you saw the ugly pink lamp above them that was identical to the lamp Wonbin had put on one of the corners there.
‘’Rocky’s apartment reminds me of here’’ Anton said, referring to Wonbin’s ugly garage.
‘’What are you saying?’’ you interrupted him, ‘’Rocky is the original, Wonbin needs more than old cabinets, leaking pipes and granny lamps to catch him.’’
Wonbin only looked at you and shook his head with a smile, not even trying to defend himself.
When you focused on the movie again instead of the sensation of Wonbin’s leg pushing yours jokingly and his hand resting on your knee like he had done many times, Rocky was cornering her in his entrance, and on any other occasion you would’ve pushed his hand away, but when you saw the ambience of the movie get heavier, you couldn’t focus on anything that wasn’t the kiss about to happen and how cold his hand that previously shared his drink with you felt against your skin.
Wonbin’s hand was trailing a bit higher, still a decent distance from anything too alarming, and you felt something forming in your insides, like a little spark that you kind of liked, so you didn’t stop him.
When Rocky kissed her, you squeezed your legs, trapping Wonbin’s hand between your legs, dangerously high and near your panties.
The kiss was quick but deep, and you felt Wonbin’s hand fitting perfectly between your legs, long fingers and a wide palm, feeling good and making you clench around nothing.
You woke up, you were getting wet with the hand of your boyfriend’s friend between your thighs, and opening them to let it free, you shifted on your place, pulling down your skirt as much as you could.
‘’Everything okay?’’ you heard Anton asking after you had pushed his leg with yours when you freed Wonbin’s hand.
Looking at him with lost eyes, you nodded, trying to brush off what had just happened.
Concentrating on the screen again, you leaned against Anton this time, almost a bit too much, trying to put a little distance between Wonbin and you so his hand didn’t get lost again.
Anton directed his eyes at you when he felt you pressing your chest against his arm, and again, you didn’t mean to, it just felt comfortable to be against him, and you couldn’t think twice about what you were doing when you pressed your chest again.
Liar.
You lied to yourself once again, like when you told yourself Seunghan didn’t mean to make you cry with his jokes, or when he lied saying he wasn’t high so you let him sneak into your room in the middle of the night, or when he tried to make you eat an edible that Anton snatched from your hand before you could taste it.
Suddenly, with that memory, Anton protecting you from a danger you didn’t know, you wanted to get closer to him, and for the first time that night, you felt happy to have chosen such a skimpy outfit that did nothing to shield you from the freezing night.
You just put on what Seunghan liked, what usually caught his attention, because that was your goal, not to survive the air of the winter night, and the big sweater that you tossed to one of Wonbin’s bushes hadn’t helped you avoid your neighbours’ stares, but at least it fooled your mother enough when you left before your father came from work.
Trying to remember the name of the last five presidents to keep you sane (which soon became the name of the last five songs you heard while walking there), you saw the way Wonbin was paying more attention to you on his side than the TV in front of you two, and not being able to pull your eyes away from him and his messy ashy blonde hair, probably as dirty as his garage, still hugging Anton’s arm, your smile got bigger when he moved a string of your hair behind your ear.
"You're high" he affirmed, and you, not confirming it, only closed your eyes to the sensation of his fingertips grazing a little spot behind your ear.
Shit, you murmured inside your mind.
You were getting too wet for your own good, and that wouldn't have been a problem if you were with your boyfriend, he would've immediately noticed the change in your demeanour and would've taken you to the bathroom to give you a quick fuck (not making you cum), helping you endure the need until he could walk you home and waited for your sign so he could climb the tree near your window.
But he wasn't there, and you didn't know what to do to make your cunt stop pulsating around nothing.
Gulping, you moved your eyes to Anton.
Everything you were feeling had to be because of that stupid joint, and he’d know what to do, like he always does.
"Should we take her home?" He asked, noticing the way you were uncomfortable with both pairs of eyes over you, hiding your face on his side out of embarrassment.
"Hell no, her dad is going to shoot us" Wonbin quickly answered.
You laughed at that, the little giggle making them smile too, amused with your sudden happiness, an image of you they weren’t used to, but it was true, your dad would shoot at them if they left his princess with wobbly legs in his doorstep, and he would kill you later too, which was actually kind of upsetting, and probably the reason why you always thought everything twice, my dad is going to kill me if he finds out, so no one should’ve laughed, but you all did.
Still, your imagination made you squeeze your thighs, making you see another way in which they would leave you with said wobbly legs, and feeling a bit of relief from the pressure that was building in your abdomen, you shamelessly repeated the action.
‘’Look at this girl, what do you think you’re doing?’’ Wonbin asked with a grin.
You should’ve stopped, you should’ve listened to that part in your mind that told you that you were acting like a fucking slut and to go home, but you didn’t, and with an exhale, you lied on your back as far as you could, and looking at them, you waited for one of them to do something.
Your exposed skin started to prickle, and a stronger tingle installed between your legs when Wonbin’s hand posed over your knee again.
Even if they didn’t do anything intense, when Anton’s hand gripped your other knee, a mewl left your mouth, calling for them to do something else than just touching that part of you.
‘’Fuck, what should we do?’’ Anton asked, without a grin, licking his lips and a frown on his forehead, ready to eat his meal.
‘’Shit do I know, I just want to touch her’’ Wonbin said.
Anton was relying on the older to say something, and you kind of did too. If he sent you home, you doubted you could continue with your little show, or show your face to them ever again, and you would end up unsatisfied, but at least you would keep a bit of your pride that Seunghan had smashed.
‘’Her nipples are so hard’’ the younger commented, eyes fixed on your perky buds standing under your white top that did nothing to hide them.
They could easily see the outline of them under the thick fabric, making their mouths dry for a taste.
‘’If you open your legs for us, we’ll touch you, but only if you do, we won’t do anything unless you show us what you want’’ Wonbin declared.
Your escape, that was your opportunity to leave, you could stay with your legs closed, or you could stand and walk out, you were high, but not that high, and you had no reason to depend on any of them to go home.
Watching the movie, you inhaled as much air as you could.
You look pretty tonight, you know? with an unclear mind, you heard the dialogue, Rocky saying it to his girl before his fight.
That was your fight now.
‘’How do I look tonight?’’ you let the question out.
You had dressed for Seunghan, an outfit you wouldn’t have worn in your wildest dreams before and that made you feel like a clown walking around, a foreigner on your own skin.
That wasn’t you, and when the boys saw you, they watched you from head to toe before they announced that Seunghan had just left, which felt kind of nice too.
‘’What do you expect me to say? You look gorgeous, but I have to admit it bothers me that you didn’t dress like that to see me’’ Wonbin smiled.
‘’You have no idea how much I love how you look in this skirt, but it makes me crazy to think you had to walk here alone’’ Anton didn’t smile.
You look fine was everything Seunghan would’ve said, not even looking at you.
Both answers felt correct in their way, and not having any other reason to stop yourself anymore, you were single after all, you opened your legs, and being bolder than usual, you lifted the hem of your skirt for them enough to see your underwear.
‘’Shit, my baby must’ve been hurting so much’’ Wonbin teased, pressing his fingers over your clothed cunt and drawing the form of your lips over them.
‘’She looks in so much pain’’ Anton agreed, and his hand went to your tit, pinching one of your nipples like he had been wanting since he saw you cross Wonbin’s door.
Not wearing a bra, he used his thumb and index to play with them, making your mouth fall open with a silent moan.
‘’Don’t be like that’’ your back arched to give Anton better access to your chest, so he touched you better, like you wanted to be touched, ‘’be kind, please’’.
Wonbin closed his eyes and Anton shook his head, both smiling from ear to ear.
‘’Don’t worry baby, you took care of us, now we’ll take care of you’’ Wonbin pushed your panties to the side and slid his middle finger up and down between your wet lips, ‘’She’s dripping so much, I think I can push one inside without problem’’.
‘’Has Seunghan ever made you cum with his fingers?’’ Anton asked.
You didn’t want to answer, it was so private, something between you and your boyfriend (now ex), and they could see in your flushing cheeks and your wavering eyes how you wouldn’t put Seunghan to shame even if he didn’t treat you right, and that was even more adorable for them.
‘’It’s okay princess, you don’t have to answer, tonight you’ll learn how a real orgasm feels like’’ Anton answered himself.
Both of them had turned to you a long time ago, and making you spread more for them, to show everything, they engraved the image of your pussy glistening and the juices that reflected the only light there.
‘’So fucking pretty’’ Wonbin cursed, licking his finger that had just touched you, ‘’as sweet as I imagined’’ he groaned, fingers going to your clit to recollect more of your wetness.
All tender and inviting, Anton’s left hand went from your chest to your pussy, fighting with Wonbin to thumb your clit, until he won, and Wonbin had to feel content with filling your entrance with one of his fingers.
9:10 PM
You looked at the hour, reminding yourself that you had to leave at ten.
‘’I’ll get punished if I don’t get home by ten…’’ you cried when Wonbin added one more finger, pushing them in and then pulling them out until just the tip of his fingers stayed inside.
Anton kept making circles over your clit, repeating Wonbin’s action and licking his fingers before going back to his job.
‘’We’ll walk you home princess, don’t worry’’ Anton secured.
‘’Fuck’’ you moaned when Wonbin increased the pace of his fingers fucking you.
His guitarist's fingers were working you so well, and you never doubted he had a talent when he played songs for you while waiting for your boyfriend to arrive, but to feel the same fingers playing with your insides confirmed his talent even more, and soon your hand went to his wrist, trying to stop him from making you cry.
‘’Too good’’ you cried, forgetting that Anton was also the culprit of that tightness forming on your core, letting his stimulations continue.
‘’I know baby, I know’’ Wonbin smiled, stopping his movements and watching the minor rolling your little bud, making you tremble and tear up, squirming to escape a pleasure you had never felt so intense before.
That didn’t last long, Wonbin couldn’t let himself be overshadowed by another boy, and with your hand still wrapping his wrist, he went back to do scissoring motions inside you.
You didn’t know what name to call, little sobs escaping from you and making them laugh at how pretty you looked even when being and making a mess.
You were leaking over Wonbin’s couch, leaving a big dark spot under you, and if you had been conscious enough, you would’ve stopped them, but you felt such an intense pressure approaching you that you could only concentrate on the way Wonbin’s fingers were opening you so good and how Anton wasn’t drawing circles anymore, roughly moving his hand from one side to the other to make you cum.
He could see it coming, your chest heavily moving up and down while tears pricked your eyes, and he had to show you he was true to his words, unlike Seunghan, so he decided to teach you what a real orgasm felt like.
Clenching around Wonbin’s fingers, Anton flicked your clit while Wonbin rushed his fingers into thrusting harder, making you cum with his digits inside you.
Yes, Anton kept murmuring when he saw your abdomen shaking and felt your pussy quivering under his hand.
With toes curling, legs trembling and eyes rolling, you came over their hands incredibly strong, a little gush dripping over Wonbin’s palm and his couch.
That didn’t stop them, they didn’t care that you were cumming, and they continued until you convulsed and cried for them to please stop.
It wasn’t even 9:25 and they had already given you the best orgasm of your life.
Your body was numb after they stopped, your eyes dropped closed, and the tears didn’t stop rolling down your cheeks, making Anton clean them with his thumb.
‘’Are you okay?’’ he asked you because your tears wouldn’t stop.
‘’Yes, sorry, too good’’ was the only coherent sentence that you could form.
Looking bright, Wonbin left a quick kiss on your lips, wrapping your throat with his hand to maintain you in your position for him.
Anton, wanting one too, did the same thing, with his hand on your chest instead.
Taking turns, they stole the little air you tried to retrieve, making you more dizzy with their mouths than with the weed you had smoked not long ago and the beer Wonbin had given to you so lovingly.
Your body was warm, and you weren’t sure exactly what you wanted, but your nipples were in pain, needing more than the delicate friction of Anton’s fingers over your top, and whining, you wanted them to touch you like they had just done, or even more.
‘’One more?’’ Anton asked when he saw you trying to close your legs in your place, trying to find any kind of relief.
‘’Yes, please’’ you said, and he, feeling proud of his good girl, gave your pussy a soft smack, telling you to open your legs more for him.
‘’We can give you something better than fingers’’ Wonbin said, making you turn to him, and knowing what he was referring to, you nodded.
You didn’t need to think things too much, you wanted to feel good, you were just abandoned, and if they were two boys willing to give you a good time for a night, why would you stop now?
‘’But not today’’ Wonbin continued, making you let a painful noise out.
‘’Why?’’ you asked sad.
‘’We’ve been waiting so much for you, your first time with us is not going to be this way’’ Anton answered.
You were too deep in a haze to understand him, and confused, you could only blink when you heard him.
Because they were kissing you just seconds ago, they were leaning towards you, and each of them, seeing you under them from their own side, blocked the TV and the big clock from your sight.
‘’But I want to cum’’ you cried, not caring about anything else and interrupting them from continuing with their reasons to not fuck you.
‘’That’s okay baby, all we are saying is that we won’t fuck you tonight’’ Wonbin laughed at your request, ‘’we’ll definitely make you cum one more time, we can’t let our girl go home in pain, but you need to come back in your senses if you want us to fuck you’’ he explained.
 ‘’Our girl’’ Anton caressed your cheek while Wonbin trailed down his hand from your neck to between your breasts.
That sentence seemed too dreamy for him, having waited so long to say it, not daring himself to voice it when you weren’t really his.
‘’Your girl?’’ you asked.
‘’Our girl’’ Wonbin confirmed.
They always hated the way Seunghan treated you, such a cute little thing like you should always be treated like a precious doll, with care, and spoiled with the best things.
Sadly, the lucky bastard had found you before them, and they could only see you from afar, everything, from the friendship with Seunghan to your heart eyes directed at him, stopping them.
Anton was always the one putting your drinks on Wonbin’s shopping car, and the last hated paying for unnecessary shit, judging deep inside any coloured can that he saw in the same aisle of his beers, yet he let the youngest sneak the box with the memory of your smile when you opened his fridge and found what you liked.
I’m not her boyfriend, Anton said in his mind when he ran to grab your fanta grape.
I’m not her boyfriend, Wonbin reminded himself when he tapped his card.
But now you were their girl, and they would treat you like you deserved.
Not believing what you just heard, you felt so loved with their eyes over you and his hands roaming your body that you slid down on the couch, making your cunt easier for them to access, and with some difficulty you placed your hand over your pelvis, going down a bit more to push your folds apart and expose your entrance, presenting them your little hole clenching around nothing.
‘’Your girl’’ you exhaled, weak against their care.
Anton was faster than Wonbin, his hand quickly finding your pussy and cupping it to not let the oldest fuck you with his fingers again, pushing his own inside you this time.
The other, accepting his loss, lifted your top to let your breasts free, which bounced with the fabric pulling them up and then letting them fall down naked.
Your pretty nipples begged for them to give them attention, all hard and standing since you arrived thanks to the chilly air that had impacted you on your way there.
‘’Been dying for a taste’’ Wonbin admitted, letting Anton take his place with his fingers inside you and launching his tongue to lick your bud.
His velvet tongue felt amazing on your smooth skin, making you drip more over Anton’s digits.
Anton’s fingers were a lot longer than Wonbin’s, and he easily grazed a certain spot that made you gasp and shake your head at how intense it felt, receiving more of your leaking juices as a response when he pushed it again.
‘’Too much?’’ he asked, and it was too much, but you denied it.
Pulling away, he slowly went back in, trying to make you used to him and the size of his fingers.
‘’She wants more’’ Wonbin said, caressing your cheek and obliging you to let the lip you hadn’t realized you were biting hard, free. ‘’Ain’t I right?’’ he wanted you to answer.
‘’Yes,’’ you sighed.
Gritting his teeth, Anton did the same action, but quicker this time, pulling out his fingers and pushing them back in harder and faster, making you moan and nod at the thrusts.
‘’Aw she likes it’’ Wonbin commented, hand cupping your jaw and leaving a soft kiss on your cheek while his other hand stayed playing with the nipple he was previously licking.
Anton dragged his fingers in and out, liking the vision of you frowning and moaning under him, but even more, how you were receiving more attention than what you needed from Wonbin’s part.
That was what you deserved, undivided attention and care from them, to drown in pleasure and forget about everything that wasn’t worth your time.
Only they were worth your time.
Lost in the sensation of your cunt taking his fingers so well, Anton kept pounding into you, slowly at times, to then fuck you harder and faster until you cried and tried to get away from his hand.
Wonbin’s hand that fingered you just minutes ago moved to your tummy, pressing his palm to help you get closer to your orgasm while his nose nuzzled behind your ear and his breath hit your cheek.
‘’She’s so tight’’ Anton commented, wrists almost completely stopping and thumb brushing your clit.
‘’I know, she’ll take us so good later’’ Wonbin almost groaned.
You cried when you heard that, they were fucking you so good only with their fingers, you couldn’t even imagine how good their cocks would make you feel. You squirmed in your place, trying to close your legs to stop you from becoming so sensitive, not getting far with the boy's hands gripping your thighs and maintaining you in your position for them. 
‘’You wanted to cum’’ Wonbin reminded you.
‘’Yes, I’m sorry’’ you said, biting your lip again and letting yourself be fucked by Anton’s fingers.
Anton didn’t hurry, gently moving the two fingers he had inside you in scissoring motions this time, he felt your warm and wet walls trap him.
‘’She’s going to cum’’ Wonbin said, recognizing your same expression from before, the way your chest was agitated and your body convulsing.
‘’Oh princess, cum for me’’ Anton demanded, needing to see your orgasm leaking down his hand just like you did for Wonbin.
Ruthlessly moving in and out his wrist, he enjoyed your face contorting for him and your pussy fluttering, and a heavier stream was released, making another mess over Wonbin’s couch and his hand.
You couldn’t feel your body anymore, and you had no idea at what time or how you got home, but when you woke up you were in your room with clean clothes and as relaxed as never.
Soon you were filled with anxiety, scared of how you had arrived and what would your parents say. You didn’t dare to go out of your room, and looking at the hour, you felt your nerves fall when you saw that your father had already left for work and your mother probably had gone out to do some shopping like she usually did that day.
You had no messages from any of them saying that they would talk to you later, and it was already passed midday, so you tried to think that things were probably all okay. However, you didn’t expect to see a message from Anton and Wonbin asking how you felt.
Come see us later, Wonbin had added.
What the hell had been that the day before? You stared at your wall for minutes until you decided that you wouldn’t know unless you asked it yourself.
Later that day, Sungchan opened the door for you when you arrived, his face pale at seeing you there.
You didn’t know who to ask for, so you timidly smiled at him and waited for him to simply let you in.
‘’Let her in’’ Wonbin said when he saw you, so Sungchan had no option but to let you.
Smiling, Wonbin tilted his head to where his kitchen connected with his garage, and you nodded understanding him, walking there with insecure steps.
‘’What the hell do you think you’re doing?’’ you heard Sungchan ask Wonbin in a whisper.
‘’You don’t care’’ Wonbin answered, not in a whisper.
Entering the garage, Wonbin’s couch was still there, covered only by a flannel where you dripped down, and suddenly an embarrassing memory came back to you in a flashback.
‘’I’m so sorry’’ you had apologized when the three of you observed the big spots you had left with your orgasms.
‘’It’s okay’’ Wonbin laughed, patting your back to console you.
‘’That’s kind of hot’’ Anton added, eyes focused on the way it showed perfectly how good they had treated you.
Now Anton was sitting on a single new couch that stuck out in the middle of the well-known garage, immediately smiling when he saw you.
There was a new face too, a girl sitting in the corner of the couch that reminded you of your old you, silent and feigning a smile, like when you waited for Seunghan to come back when he left you in painful silence with his friends the first days.
You walked to Anton, still wary, but more confident after he seemed happy to see you there.
‘’Hey,’’ Anton said, taking your hand to play with the tips of your fingers, to then pull you closer and make you sit on his lap.
His arms wrapped your waist perfectly, letting a greeting kiss behind your ear that made you giggle, making you feel comfortable on your new seat.
You felt the eyes of the new girl staring at you, and not wanting to be rude anymore, you talked.
‘’Hi,’’ you finally addressed the girl in the room when Anton rested his chin on your shoulder, closing his eyes and inhaling the aroma of your shampoo like he had been dreaming for months, ‘’Sorry’’ you continued, presenting yourself.
The girl denied with a cute smile, telling you that it was okay, and presenting herself as Seunghan’s new girlfriend.
‘’Seunghan’s girlfriend…’’ you repeated. She was cute, collected, calm, like you were when he met you.
‘’Yes, we just started seeing each other this month, how long have you been together?’’ she asked you, surely referring to you and Anton like a couple.
‘’Oh, it hasn’t been long’’ Anton answered for you.
A second later Sohee walked in, looking puzzled out for seeing you there, and especially, over Anton’s lap.
Almost immediately the rest of the boys came to the garage, all except Wonbin, becoming silent at the sight in front of them. Seunghan, who was more astonished than the others, froze at the entrance without understanding what he was looking at, his new girlfriend in the same room with his ex-girlfriend sitting over his bandmate’s lap.
Wonbin was the one who got him out of his confused state, pushing him to the side so he could cross the room to meet you, and sitting on the arm of the small new couch, he gave you a soft kiss on the lips, surprising everyone there, including you.
‘’We hope you all give us your blessings’’ Wonbin smiled, posing his cheek next to yours while Anton continued with his arms around your waist and his face hidden on your neck.
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lqvesoph · 9 months ago
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Kingsday || LN4
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lando norris x fem!reader
summary: when celebrating kingsday with your boyfriend lando ends with a small injury, and a call from his boss
masterlist
Your boyfriend being friends with a dutch DJ, meant one thing: party, party and party. Especially on Kingsday, a day where the dutch people celebrated the King‘s birthday, or got drunk on random boats driving down the channel of Amsterdam.
You had arrived about two hours ago. Lando immediately joined Martin at the DJ desk whereas you went to get some drinks for the two of you.
Now two hours later, Lando was still with Martin, or so you hoped because you actually haven’t seen him in over 30 minutes.
"Y/n!! Y/n come here!", a voice that you recognized as Martin called. You whisked around to find the dutchman waving frantically.
You frowned and excused yourself from your conversation before making your way through the mass of people. "What’s wrong?", you shouted. "It’s Lando, come!", Martin yelled and reached a hand out for you to take.
You gladly accepted his help to guide you through the people and to your boyfriend. And lord, you almost dropped your glass when you saw Lando.
"Baby!", a drunken smile graced his face. But that wasn’t the only thing. Before there were glasses and a ribbon in the dutch colours but now there was a white bandage wrapped around his head.
"Lando, what the hell happened??", you called, hastily placing your glass on a table and rushing to your boyfriend.
"I’m so happy you’re here", he slurred, placing his hands on your cheeks and pulling you into a messy kiss. You returned the kiss for a second before pulling back, holding him upright and steady.
"Baby, can you explain what happened?", you tried to again, pushing back his curls. "There were SO many people", he giggled and you tried your best to stay calm and let him finish talking. "And then I tripped and then there was an elbow and glass and suddenly ow…", his face dropped towards the end and his fingers reached up to his nose.
You held his hand back. "Don’t touch, let me see", you muttered and removed the very badly done bandage. You held his chin to move his head to the sides to get a good look at his bloody nose.
"Does it hurt?", you asked, carefully touching the brink of his nose. "Nope!", Lando grinned proudly, making you roll your eyes. "Of course not, you’re drunk", you mumbled.
"Martin, can you get my bag please? It’s with Lando’s jacket behind the DJ pult", you explained to Lando’s friend who nodded immediately and went to grab your bag.
When Martin came back you pulled tissue and sanitizer out of the black bag and cleaned up the blood around Lando’s nose. "Are you like a professional?", a guy asked, nodding at the things in your hand and your firm grip on Lando’s chin. "Almost", you chuckled. "I’m studying medicine."
"Yeah, she’s gonna be a doctor!", Lando called proudly. "Shh", you firmly said snd squeezed his chin. "It doesn’t look broken, maybe bruised but you‘ll be fine", you delivered the verdict. "You‘re the best, thank you. I love you", Lando mumbled, leaning forward to connect your lips again. A few "Aww"s were heard around you which made you smile just as Lando‘s phone started ringing.
The boy fumbled it out of his pocket, only to find his boss‘ name on the display. "Oh oh, that means trouble", Martin muttered. Seeing as you weren’t as drunk as the rest of the people around you, your reaction times were way faster. And so you reached forward to grab Lando‘s phone out of his hands to answer the call yourself.
"Lando Norris, what on earth are-", Zak‘s voice roared through the speakers. "Zak, hi, it’s me Y/n", you quickly interrupted the American who abruptly stopped talking.
"Y/n? I didn’t know you are with Lando", he sounded surprised.
"Martin invited us over-" "There’s a picture of Lando bleeding and with a bandage circulating around the internet, care to explain the situation?", Zak interrupted you, getting straight to the point.
"I wasn’t with him when it happened but according to him and various people around him, he tripped and cut his nose. Martin got me soon after and I already took a look at his nose and he‘s okay. A bit bruised, going to cause a bit of pain when putting a helmet on but he‘ll be fine. Nothing‘s broken or anything like that", you broke down the whole story to Lando‘s boss while pushing your fingers through Lando‘s curls.
He let out a sigh and you could imagine him sitting in his office chair, rubbing the side of his head. "Okay, can I talk to him for a second?", Zak said and you nodded, leaning down to Lando and handing him the phone.
"He wants to talk to you", you muttered, putting the phone to his ear. "Hiii", Lando called excitedly, making you squeeze your eyes shut with a chuckle. "Noo, I swear I‘m okay even better than okay!", he assured his boss. "Zak, I‘m fineee! Y/n is taking care of me."
"Hey Zak, did you know that dutch people-", you pulled the phone back from his ear before he could spill some stupid shit. "I‘ll get him back home in one piece, I promise", you said, ruffling his curls. "Thank you, Y/n", Zak replied before saying goodbye.
You took a deep breath and put Lando‘s phone in your back pocket. The Brit leaned his head against your stomach and closed his eyes with a content drunk smile.
"You okay?", you whispered with a smile and tapped the back of his head a few times. Lando nodded against your stomach and then looked up at you, pouting his lips to let you know he wanted a kiss. You smirked and leaned down to connect your lips.
"Okay let’s get back!", he called enthusiastically and got up, swaying a little when he stood. You wrapped an arm around his waist, doing your best to steady him. Lando naturally put his around your shoulders.
"Let‘s get you a glass of water and then we can go back, alright?", you compromised with him and dragged him over to the bar, telling the guy to hand you a glass of water.
You thanked him and turned your body to Lando, holding the cup close to his mouth. "Here you go."
Lando took a few sips and then leaned closer to your ear. "I love you", he whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. You giggled and pulled him into a hug. "I love you", you replied.
"Let’s go back to Martin", he then called, making you laugh. "Oh and can I please get another Vodka Lemon?", Lando turned to the barkeeper who looked at you for approval. "Okay sure", he said when you nodded.
"Drink up, come on, hop hop", you clapped his waist a few times and nodded to the cup of water. Lando nodded and down the liquid in a few seconds before grabbing the fresh cup and taking the two of you back to Martin.
"What do you think Zak would say if I get behind that DJ desk?", Lando asked you. You chuckled. "He already called you once today because he worried you broke your nose so I don’t think it can get much worse", you replied making Lando laugh. "I‘ll just say you forced me to", your boyfriend said before pressing a kiss to your lips and walking around the desk to join Martin.
"Joining in again?", the dutchman asked, putting his arm around Lando. He nodded and was quickly handed the headphones. You chuckled, pulling out your phone to take a video of Lando pressing random buttons on the DJ desk. He grinned broadly when he spotted your camera on him.
"Come here, baby!", he called you over, holding the hand that wasn’t holding his glass. You put your phone away and took your boyfriend‘s hand.
He turned you around in a swift motion, wrapping his arms around your neck and pressing your body to his. You laughed out loud at the action but let him sway you from side to side.
Taking a sip from your glass you carefully pushed your hips back into his. When you didn’t get a reaction from him you did it again, this time a bit firmer. "Once is a mistake, two‘s a choice", he muttered in your ear, making you giggle.
Lando moved one of his hand down to your stomach, pressing you against him while he swayed your hips. His lips being so close to your ear meant the small breathy moan that left his lips was only for you to hear.
You turned your head so your nose was pressing against his jawline. A small kiss against his skin made him smile.
It wad Lando‘s turn to press himself closer to your back. "Okay, baby, no funny business until later", you chuckled, placing your fingers on his hands on your stomach.
"Oh, so you can tease but I can’t?", Lando chuckled teasingly and turned you around. "You can tease all you want, as soon as we’re inside our own four walls", you whispered, leaning closer to his ear.
"Promise?", Lando smirked.
"Promise!", you laughed, pressing your lips on his in a soft kiss.
📍 Amsterdam, Netherlands
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tagged: landonorris, martingarrix
yn: Kingsday well spent (+ Lando at the airport the next day🤭)
comments:
landonorris: Violation
> yn: U were the one who got injured…
> landonorris: U r the one who posted it
> yn: I was also the one who aided you
> landonorris: I- don’t have anything else to add🙃
martingarrix: Had the best time🧡
> yn: Thanks for having us!!
maxverstappen: Did my invite get lost orrr?
> yn: LETS GO OUT IN MIAMI!!
oscarpiastri: Mate, you looked DEAD
> landonorris: thanks a lot, MATE🙃
ybff: YOU LOOK GORGEOUS unlike a certain brit boy
> landonorris: hey!
fan: The way she still slayed at the club while Lando was wearing that neon ass hat😭
fan: All the Mclaren members laughing at sleeping Lando lmaoo
fan: Lando getting violated by his girlfriend and his girlfriend‘s best friend and his teammate😭
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writingwisterias · 8 days ago
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Still dreaming?
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Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader
Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Dub-Con, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Sonomphila, Needy Leon, Degradation Kink, Rough sex, Pure Smut - Little to no plot, Light Orgasm denial, Dom Leon, Sub Reader, Unprotected Sex
Summary: Leon comes home all needy and desperate but you aren't wearing the underwear that tells him it's okay to wake you up with what he craves
A nice smutty birthday fic for @friedtofu4 ! If you don't say happy birthday I'll steal Leon all for myself
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Tired didn’t even cover what Leon felt today, the pain lingering throughout his body would be enough to kill a man. The fact he’s even walking after the injuries he sustained was impressive to everyone in the office. Their constant staring was proof enough of that. The orange glow of the sky had faded by the time he finished his drive home, replaced by the flickering of the streetlamps that guided his way to the house from the driveway. He wished he called you tonight maybe an orgasm or two would wash away the lingering thoughts of Ada. The one night they shared was more of a complicated dream; one that always seemed nice but the more you thought about it the more nightmarish it became. She always did leave a bad taste in his mouth unlike you. Your sweet innocence, still yet to be tainted by the horrors of the world was enough salvation he needed to get away from it all. He didn’t even bother turning the lights on as he walked through the house. He knew where he was heading it was muscle memory at this point. 
He didn’t fail to notice the soft glow on the wall as he approached his bedroom, the muted sounds of people talking also filling the silence. If he had checked his phone he would have known that you were waiting for him, hoping to catch him early like the good girl you were. You had caught his clipped tone as he called you letting you know he landed. Whilst those types of phones never normally lasted long they certainly weren’t 30 seconds. So using the spare key he gave you ‘in case of emergencies’ you went to his house. Waiting for him to return so you could give him a proper welcome home. If only he didn’t stop at the bar on the way home - you would have been awake to give him the greeting. 
Upon seeing your frame in his sheets his body eased, the tension in his muscles fading. Your perked little ass peaking out in greeting as you swung your leg over the plush bedding. The sight only was enough to make his blood run south, his already fuzzy brain now overflowing with the need to sink into your warmth. It was like the universe heard his pleas for a pleasant fuck his entire ride home, for you to be greeting him in his favourite shirt. You didn’t react as his hands landed on your hip, pushing the fabric that covered your lower half up. Your skin was always so soft against his rough hands. He sighed at the sight of the underwear…the wrong colour underwear. Frustration quickly replaced the lust. You were going to greet him like this and not even give him the pleasure of sinking into you - betting on the idea that you would be awake when he arrived. 
He should have waited, or at least tapped your cheeks until you woke up for him but the throb in his trousers was becoming too persistent for him to ignore. He knew you were a deep sleeper anyway so that wouldn’t work. “Fuck it” he grumbled. The air escaped the duvet as he sat down to undo his boots each one dropping to the floor with a loud thud. His belt was next, making sure the cold metal tapped against your thigh. Still no flinch, no movement. His trousers dropped as he stood up, his tip poking through the fabric of his boxers, stretching it thin with the strain. 
He groaned in relief as he finally freed himself, his cock thumping against his stomach as he touch it. It wasn’t soft, not in the slightest. It hung heavy, pointing eagerly towards your sleeping form. It swayed as he approached the bed, his hands easily manoeuvring you into the correct position. His shirt hiked up enough to expose your breasts. Your lips were parted letting out soft snores, your eyebrows pinched together for just a moment before easing back into their usual state. He could see the darkened gusset of your underwear, your arousal making the fabric stick to you. It was wrong for him to do this he knew it. He was the one to suggest the stupid rule, the colour coding of your underwear to ensure you always consented. 
But he couldn’t help peeling away the fabric exposing your beautiful cunt to his needy cock. His fingers gathered some of your juices, ensuring to play with your clit to help you rise from your pretty little dreams. You didn’t have anything to worry about maybe that's why you looked so peaceful as you slept—looking like a perfect angel on his sheets, a gift from the heavens in thanks for all his hard work. He often found himself wondering what you dreamt of. If his cock pleases you in your dreamscape just like it did in real life. 
Leon could help but take in one of your peaked nipples, sucking on it harshly as his cock began to prod at your entrance. The tip slowly enters the tight hole with little resistance however he watched as your hand began to rub at your eyes. Allowing them to ease with the bright light of the TV as you slowly woke up. “Leon?” You mumbled blinking up at the form that now hovered above you. “Silly girl, couldn’t even wait up for me to get home” He grunted as he began to inch inside, your walls fluttering as you welcomed him. Your head moved back against the sheets, arching your body ready for him to go deeper. “Had to help myself to you. Even though you don’t have the right colour on. Silly girl” 
You saw the underwear where he discarded them to the side of the bed, the black lace staring at you instead of the pink you should have worn. Guilt washed through you, you tried to make it perfect. Picking out his favourite shirt, lying on the bed with your ass perfectly on the display of the door but you forgot about the rule, hoping to stay awake to receive his greeting in a less hazy mind. You mumbled against the soft bedding before, pouting your lip out pathetically hoping he would believe you. Leon liked you this way, your body was easier to bend in the way he wanted. Your whines were always drawn out and at a higher pitch. It was like his own little porno, a live viewing as he watched his cock cram into your tight cunt. 
He should have been more gentle, not gripping bruises into your hips. Leaving fingerprints on your plush skin. He shouldn’t be forcing your breasts to bounce at the speed they did as his pelvis slammed you up the bed but it felt so damn good. Too damn good. “If I hadn’t seen the little display you put on me, I wouldn’t have realised you actually wanted it” He grunted into your ear. You didn’t fight it, graceful accepting his brutal pace as your punishment. The pain of his hips slapping against yours turned into pleasure the deeper he hit. The tip of his cock caresses the entrance of your cervix. 
Leon smirked at the sight of you, sprawled on the bed beneath him. Your bottom lip is red and raw from tugging on it. Your eyes were still shut as small mumbles spewed out of your mouth. You still weren’t fully awake, probably assuming this would have been a really good dream. The type that used all your senses and the throbbing need of your clit in the morning. “Not even awake yet are you? Yet still in your lucid state, you are pathetically needy for my cock” 
You whined in response, words failing you as the pleasure began to increase. Your clit was pressed against the soft layer of fat he was slowly building in his older age, the whisps of hair that decorated it adding even more friction against your twitching clit. “I like you this way, so fucking easy for me to take my frustrations out and you just take it like the whore you are” His words only swirled in your head adding to the dizziness that was already there. One of his hands moved to pin your own above your head stretching your body out in front of him. Leon’s lips latched onto one of the peaked nipples sucking on the flesh harshly, his teeth biting into the sensitive bud smirking at the small gasps that would leave your lips. 
Even in your sleepy state, you were close, he could tell. Your walls gripped at him like a vice it became harder to move his hips as you sucked him in. 
You were always so tight, so wet just for his cock…he didn’t even warm you up like he normally would. He watched as tears began to pool in the corners of your eyes, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist drawing him closer to you and trapping him in your sweet heat. He loved it. Craved it. He thought about it every chance he got, spilling himself on the sheets of hotel rooms. How he found you he didn't know, how he got you so obedient to his ever sexual need and desire. It was a fucking miracle, a gift. Leon let go of your wrists, tracing your lip with his thumb smirking at the drool that now drenched the digit. 
His thrusts slowed, the pleasure that had built up now quickly fading. Your hips grind against him desperately to keep it burning. Your protests came out in a jumbled mess, your sleepiness still preventing them from forming properly. “Come on look at me as you cum love, I want to see those pretty eyes” 
His grip was firm on your chin as he redirected your face to look at him. Your cheeks squished slightly. He smiled at your teary eyes as they met his, the glossy look causing his cock to twitch inside you. “There you are” 
Leon began to piston his hips again, the pace slowly increasing to the speed in which he was doing before. He kept your face there, watching as the tears spilled out the corners blending in with the few strands of hair that lay messy around the pillow. Your eyebrows contorted in pleasure as you finally felt it again. That searing white hot pleasure that made your lower half go just as fuzzy as your head. It was sweet that despite your current headspace you knew you still needed to wait for his permission, to allow yourself to let go. Your whimpers turned into moans. Matching his own as he felt you clench and flutter around him. Your nails dug crescents into his skin, leaking red lines in their wake as you clawed at him in begs. In hopes, he’ll permit you to do what you want. 
You almost missed his nod if it weren't followed by the words you wanted you hear. Your orgasms shattered through you. Your thighs shook around his waist their grip loosening as your muscles relaxed almost like he had just fucked you back asleep. Your soft whimpers and pants caused him to finally spill inside you. His load warmed you up just as you slept peacefully once more. The tension finally faded from his shoulders, the aches in his muscles gone for just long enough he could relax.
Leon didn’t pull out of you, his cock still snug inside as it softened. Instead, he admired you, your frame. You were so precious, so innocent for him. Begging for his attention, giving up your own when he accidentally snapped on the phone earlier. His life was shit, growing worse as he aged each year. His lifelong work contract growing more demanding adding more trauma to his already tired shoulders. You were simple compared to the other things in his life, consistent and simple. A divine treat after a job well done. Neither of you minded that was all you could be, your relationship would never grow from that. Mutually understanding the sex was all you needed to get by. 
And in his complicated world…simple looked pretty good wrapped around his cock like this. 
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sturnioz · 2 months ago
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shy!reader decides to show up at a frat house party after almost a week of radio silence.
꒰ part one ꒱ — ꒰ part two ꒱— ꒰ part three ꒱
you were telling the truth when you told kitty and nick that you were super busy. the timing of being swamped with classes and assignments, coupled with the betrayal and hurt of being isolated from the frat formal, actually worked in your favour. it provided a much-needed distraction.
your classes kept you somewhat sane. yet, the constant buzzing of your phone from chris became a source of anxiety, which made you eventually decide to put your phone on do not disturb.
you hated doing that to him—it felt hard and unkind—but you needed to focus. each time his name lit up the screen, guilt and frustration washed over you, but you knew you had to prioritise your studies.
it might seem hypocritical to say you had no time for distractions, especially since you still made time to meet up with kitty and nick for lunch. their company was a pleasant break from the weight of your responsibilities.
you even found yourself opening up about chris, wearing your heart on your sleeve as you shared the confusion and frustration you felt — letting them know that you struggle to articulate how difficult it is to figure out your emotions of what's right and wrong, especially since you weren't even officially dating him.
they listened to you patiently, letting you spill your thoughts while they threw in the occasional sarcastic remark about chris, and eventually, they gently nudged you toward the idea of talking to him.
after some hesitation, you agreed. deep down, you knew you had to. you're not a mean person; you don't have a mean bone in your body, and ignoring chris' calls and texts felt like the closest you'd ever come to being unkind. that realisation weighed heavy on you.
however, the thought of facing him made your stomach churn. the idea of seeing chris after having been 'mean' left you on edge, your heart racing at the possibilities. but, you reminded yourself that communication is essential, even when it feels so daunting.
talking to him felt like a long shot, but you were willing to take that leap.
friday afternoon arrives quicker than you initially anticipated, and your palms feel clammy as you walk beside your friend, heading toward the familiar frat house that's already overflowing with students, laughing, and the thumping bass of loud music.
as you approach the entrance, your lips part in surprise when some of the frat brothers notice you — their wide, goofy grins spread across their faces, and they wave at you drunkenly. you smile shyly in response, turning their waves with a small, but kind, gesture before your friend pulls you further into the house.
it doesn't take long for your eyes to land on chris. he's sprawled on the couch, man-spreading, a beer in one hand and a joint in the other. he's glancing up at a guy standing over him holding a wad of cash, and you watch as chris holds the joint between his lips before dipping his hand into his pocket, pulling out a baggie of colourful pills and handing it over in exchange for cash.
"where have y'beeeeen?" a voice jolts you from your thoughts, and you turn just in time to see nate approaching, his arms swinging wide as he embraces you in a drunken hug. his cheek smushes against yours, and you catch a whiff of alcohol and weed on his breath. "i felt like fuckin' hansel 'n gretal leavin' a trail of apples f'you to find your way back, kid."
his words making you giggle, and your friend steps in to help untangle you from nate's affectionate grip, causing him to huff dramatically as he leans into her, his arm wrapping around her waist instead.
"come on," your friend urges, trying to tug nate away from you. "let her go speak to chris."
"good luck... been a fuckin' asshole all week," nate murmurs with a drunken slur, and your smile begins to falter, a wave of unease washing over you. you know all too well that you're likely the reason for chris' mood. as nate stumbles backward, he turns his head, pointing at you with a grin, "m'serious about them apples! they're in the fridge f'you!"
as they move away, the laughter and music fade into the background, and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for what's about to happen. your stomach swirls and churns with each step, the anticipation and anxiety building as you near chris, who remains unaware of your presence — too absorbed in taking a hit of his joint and counting the crumpled bills in his hand.
just as you're about to stand directly in front of him, his eyes flit up to meet yours. you give him a timid smile, hoping for a sliver of recognition or even warmth, but it falters and falls when he looks away, completely ignoring you.
the sting of his dismissal hits you like a brutal punch to the gut, and suddenly, you feel like you might be sick.
this wasn't how you had planned it in your head. you weren't supposed to be ignored... you were supposed to talk, to find some common ground, and hopefully, to be fine again.
your head is spinning, and your mind is clouded with confusion and hurt. the room starts to close in around you, the drunken students moving like a tidal wave, and you panic, your heart hammering against your chest.
in the midst of your spiralling, you catch sight of matt and kitty sitting on an armchair in the corner of the room, their eyes locked onto you. kitty pushes herself off of matt's lap, and matt follows closely behind, both seeming to make a beeline for you. but before you can even fully process their approach, your arm is suddenly caught in a tight grasp.
you're whisked away upstairs before you can even blink, the world around you blurring as you're pulled away from the chaos. panic surges through you, but gradually, a sense of relief washes over you when you're yanked into a familiar bedroom—chris' bedroom—and shock courses through you as you turn to see that it was him who brought you up here.
"relax," he grumbles, shutting the bedroom door behind you, which partially mutes the music from downstairs. "fuckin' dramatic for no reason."
even with his blunt, harsh words, there's an odd comfort in them, and you hate the realisation of how much you have missed him. the urge to suddenly hug him overwhelms you, but you hold back, wrapping your arms around yourself instead.
"nice of you to finally fuckin' show up," he continues, his gaze piercing as it drills into you, making you chew down on your plush bottom lip. he scoffs, shaking his head. "what? got nothin' to say? just—just gonna come here 'n show your face? all silent 'n shit?"
"i was busy," you respond, grasping at the same words you've been using all week, and the second scoff that escapes him makes you frown.
"right, right... 'cos it uh, didn't seem like you were busy when you were meetin' up with kitty and nick, yeah?"
"they met me for lunch on campus," you explain, your eyebrows furrowing a little. "i was still on campus.."
"what's your problem?" his question catches you off guard, and you blink, momentarily stunned. "like, what is goin' on? two weeks ago, you were fuckin' fine, and now you're ignorin' me? did i do somethin'?"
you take a deep breath, your eyes flitting to the side, searching for the right words before you murmur, "you didn't tell me about the formal."
"oh my god," your gaze snaps back to chris as he takes off his hat, raking his fingers through his tousled hair. a laugh of disbelief escapes his lips. "that—that's what this is about? 'cos... 'cos i didn't tell you about a fraternity formal that you have no interest in?"
you frown softly, "when did i—"
"kid, y'don't even like fuckin' frat parties, what makes you think you'd like a formal?" he huffs, rubbing at his jaw frustratingly. "y'wouldn't have even gone."
"it's the thought that counts," you reply, a bit more defensively than intended. you fidget on the spot, your fingers twisting together nervously as you try to steady your racing heart. "i... i would've liked to have been asked or something."
"yeah? so i could stand there 'n hear you say no?" chris shoots back, rolling his tongue across his teeth. "kid, i knew you would say no. that's why i didn't fuckin' ask — knew you wouldn't like that shit."
"but why didn't you tell me about it in the first place?" you feel the heat rising in your cheeks, that frustration and hurt bubbling to the surface as you swallow thickly. "is it because you was taking her?"
"not everythin' i do needs to be told t'you, kid," chris responds sharply, his tone cutting through the air like a knife. he then pulls a face, "her?"
"cherry." you whisper her name, trying to keep your voice steady despite the tight knot forming in your stomach.
"che—i didn't take cherry," he stares at you incredulously, his brows knitting together. "why the fuck would i take cherry? i went alone, dumbass."
his reaction catches you off guard, and you can't help but push. "but everyone saw you with her? and the photos?"
"yeah, she was there, but i didn't fuckin' take her — she was feignin' for them fuckin' pills, kid," The bluntness of his words strike you hard, and suddenly, embarrassment washes over you. you realise you had jumped to conclusions, just like everyone else, and you look down, biting your tongue as you desperately search for something to say.
silence stretches between you, thick and uncomfortable, and your gaze finds its way back to chris, who is already staring at you as if he's trying to decipher your thoughts. he tilts his head slightly, crossing his arms over his chest, a posture that feels confrontational.
"besides," he begins, his tone shifting to something more matter-of-fact, "shouldn't really matter to you who i go with, right? 'cos we're not datin', kid. we're just sleepin' together, yeah?"
his words hang in the air like a cold reminder, and you nod your head slowly in response.
"do y'wanna stop?" he asks suddenly.
you didn't expect that question, and your heart races. "what?"
"m'givin' you an out, kid.. d'you wanna stop?" his gaze is unwavering, searching your face for an answer, and you can sense the weight of the choice he's placing in front of you.
you think over his question for a moment, and you think hard, weighing the options. ending this arrangement with him would certainly be a lot less complicated, but the thought leaves you hallow.
chris has become the normal for you. he's apart of your routine, a presence that even though frustrates the hell out of you and makes you so confused, he also brings you an odd comfort and excitement. and not only are you experiencing new sexual things with him, you are enjoying the pleasures that come with it too.
"no," you answer softly, "no, not really."
"alright..." chris hums, and you watch as his shoulders seem to relax, his arms uncrossing from his chest at your response. he nods his head, licking his lips to wet them, before he asks, "you stayin' over or you plannin' on bein' busy again?"
your face heats up, your nose scrunching up and your lips forming into a small pout as your murmur. "i was serious about being busy..."
"yeah, okay, bun."
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© STURNIOZ
609 notes · View notes
redvexillum · 3 months ago
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Me: Alrighty-ho! Time to work on my grossly late fraugwinska's DBD x HH event and @6esiree's contest!
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Me, completely a sub to my desires despite having zero experience writing a lucifer x reader fic: This is gonna be a quick, dirty, SHORT one shot. No problem-o! *nearly 5000 words later* fhuck.
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TAGS/WARNINGS: vexi's brain rot, p in v, cunnilingus, wtf did I just write, f!reader, lucifer isn't quite over lilith because ✨drama✨️, low key blaming @sociosin for sending me spicy Lucifer's ask and @the-other-soup for drawing sexy lucifer - I stood no chance guys
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When you first matched with DuckLover69 on Cinder, you laughed, thinking it was a typo—surely, he meant to type DickMaster69. That seemed on brand for a hook-up app straight out of Hell. But as you stood there in his room, surrounded by luxurious, crimson-hued furniture and bed sheets of rich satin that would have looked decadent if they weren’t crowded by piles—actual mounds—of rubber ducks, you realized this guy hadn’t mistyped at all.  
This man really, truly, loved ducks. 
Maybe a tad too much.
You wove your way carefully through a veritable army of rubber duckies, each dressed in an outfit more absurd than the last. A little one in a sombrero sat beside a duck knight, complete with a silver helmet and a feather. You squinted. Was that one wielding a miniature sword? It stuck out from its back at a haphazard angle, as if this duck had met some unspeakable end in battle. 
How…avant-garde?
“Sorry for the wait!” A nervous, high-pitched voice broke the silence, followed by an anxious chuckle that echoed through the room. You turned to see Mr. Duck Lover, as he’d introduced himself online, standing stiff as a board, his hand twirling a crimson red apple atop his sleek, obsidian-black staff. 
He was exactly as odd in person as he’d been in your chats: curious to a fault and totally oblivious to social cues. His very first question had been, “So, do you know the King of Hell?” Not exactly small talk. But you had shrugged it off, telling him the truth—that you’d hardly kept up with Hell’s political scene since you arrived. You were too busy dealing with entitled assholes in your new, endless service job, a punishment so mundane it felt like Hell’s personal version of torture. 
You’d expected the conversation to taper off after that, but Mr. Duck Lover had caught you off-guard by taking a U-turn, asking without reserve if you liked sex. The question had been so blunt, so awkwardly dropped into the conversation, that you’d ended up laughing. After a hellish day dealing with rude customers, his lack of tact and straight-up weirdness had been refreshing, if bizarre, and you’d surprised yourself by playing along. 
And now here you were, standing in his duck-filled lair, looking at him in all his nervous, overdressed glory. “You weren’t kidding when you said you liked ducks,” you said with a grin, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible as you waved at a particularly stylish duck with a feathered boa around its neck. 
Mr. Duck Lover's shoulders stiffened, and his eyes darted back and forth. Two bright red circles painted his cheeks, and he looked like a mime who’d been caught halfway through his act. His fingers fidgeted with the apple on his staff as he tried for a casual smile, though it came across more like a grimace. 
“I-is that a dealbreaker?” His voice cracked, and you could practically feel the nerves radiating off him. You chuckled, stepping a little closer, savouring the way his breath caught, and his cheeks flushed a unique shade of gold, the colour spilling across his nose in a way that was like glittering treasure strewn across white sand. 
“Nah, just… observing,” you said, your grin turning wicked. “What’s wrong, Mr. Duck Lover?”  
You reached out, tucking a stray strand of gold that had fallen over his forehead back into place. He froze, his breath hitching, his eyes widening as if he’d been zapped. The blush on his cheeks deepened, and he puffed them out, holding his breath, looking for all the world like he was trying not to combust from embarrassment. 
Odd, yes. But somehow, interesting. You found yourself curious—very curious—about just what went on in that strange, nervous, duck-obsessed mind of his. 
You chuckled softly, warmth pooling at the base of your throat as you took him in. How adorable. Everything about him felt so out of place for a guy on an app specifically for hookups. He stood there, stiff as a board, his eyes darting to your every move, arms glued to his sides as though his own body wasn’t sure what to do with itself. And as you leaned closer, you noticed a large portrait hung in the back corner of his room—a family picture, quaint and well-loved. 
Am I his rebound? you thought, as you slid your fingers along his collar, grazing the crisp fabric before slowly easing it off his shoulders. His vest, a pale pink stripe against white, gave him a soft, almost innocent look—a stark contrast to the nerves dancing in his wide eyes. He didn’t resist, simply let his jacket slip down his arms, his breath coming shallow as you leaned in, feeling the heat rise as your faces neared, breath mingling. 
With a gulp, he stammered, “I gu-guess we’re doing the do, that's fantastic!” He tried to smile, his teeth peeking out in a goofy, uncertain grin as he let the jacket fall to the floor. 
“You mean…” you whispered, your voice low as you pressed against him, feeling his entire body tense beneath your touch. “Fucking?” 
He squeaked—actually squeaked—and tried to clear his throat, summoning a shred of composure. “That’s right, f-ffucking,” he stammered, the word awkward on his lips as he sounded it out like it was a foreign concept. “Because that’s… what we do. Now. Here.” His body shivered slightly, and you could feel the tremble that ran from his chest to yours, betraying his every anxious thought. 
A spark of curiosity bloomed in you as you watched his attempts at bravado crumble with each beat of silence. You felt it all click into place. In Hell, family didn’t exactly… exist. Sinners couldn’t create new life here, so the idea of settling down with a partner wasn’t the norm, let alone the idea of casual intimacy. But here he was, talking about sex with the clumsy innocence of someone barely familiar with the concept. “Hey…” you murmured, a thrill lacing your words. “Are you… a virgin?” 
The question struck him like lightning, his eyes going wide, his fingers clutching at his vest in a mixture of embarrassment and flustered denial. “Wha—first time?” He laughed—a loud, forced laugh that seemed to rattle out of him, like he was trying to chase away the truth. “Oh, no, no, no, not at all! I’ve… I’ve used my penis in… numerous ways.” His voice dropped to a low, desperate tone. “I even shape-shifted a few times for… added spice,” he said, his forked tongue flicking nervously, searching your face as though hoping to see doubt there instead of amusement. 
But you couldn’t help it. The men you usually met were arrogant, self-assured, and too focused on themselves to care. Yet here he was—blushing, hesitant, endearing in his innocence. A wicked grin spread across your face as you let your fingers trail lower, smoothing down his vest, tracing each trembling line of muscle underneath until you reached the waistband of his pants. 
You glanced up, meeting his gaze with a mischievous smirk, and his breath caught. His lips quivered, his cheeks flushed, but he returned your grin—innocent and eager, albeit with a slight, deliciously shaky edge. 
You wondered just what kind of man Mr. Duck Lover truly was as your hands moved along his body, peeling away each layer of his clothing, his meagre defences landing on the floor with gentle thuds joining with yours. For all his usual fidgeting and awkwardness, there was something disarmingly tender in the way he touched you, as if each stroke of his fingertips was sacred, each caress reverent. That boyish, clumsy charm he wore like a mask seemed to slip away, leaving behind a quiet intensity in his gaze that made your pulse race. 
“Been… a while,” he murmured, his hands wandering in tentative exploration, pausing over the soft curve of your breast, then settling firmly at your hips. The admiration in his voice deepened as he sighed, his eyes tracing over you as though you were something divine. “God really did create the perfect being,” he whispered, his lips grazing your shoulder, and as your bare bodies met in a slow, full embrace, it was your turn to hold your breath, struck by the unexpected gentleness of it. 
You almost chuckled, the urge to tease him—“Praising God in Hell? How blasphemous,”—hovering at the tip of your tongue. But as he drew you closer, his face tucked deep into the curve of your neck, words fell away, replaced by a silent warmth that seeped into every nerve, every inch of your skin. His arms wound tighter around you, his body pressing against yours, not out of desire, but a kind of longing that felt… deeper.
Meaningful. 
Your arms wrapped around him on instinct, though your mind buzzed with confusion. Shouldn’t this be a quick, meaningless fuck by now? Yet, here you were, tangled in his arms, savouring the sensation of him, feeling the quiet, almost desperate comfort he sought as he held you. The naked intimacy was strange, yes. Unexpected, yes. But something in you didn’t want to break the moment; it felt like a balm, easing all the stress and tension that had worn you down for far too long as you toiled away in your eternal damnation.  
You closed your eyes, surrendering to the steady warmth of his body, your fingers tracing delicate paths along his spine. Each gentle touch pulled soft, barely audible sounds from his throat, the hint of a moan muffled against your skin as your fingers reached his hair, petting through the soft strands. His hair was even softer than you’d imagined, and you felt him sink into your touch, both of you on the brink of letting go.
Letting go of what? You weren't sure.  
But suddenly, he pulled back, and the spell shattered. His cheeks flushed, his hands awkwardly clutching at your waist as he avoided your gaze, his nervous energy flooding back. “Right, uh, sex. That’s what we’re… here for, isn’t it? So, we should, um…” He forced a grin. “Do the, uh… the sex!” 
That was when you finally absorbed your surroundings, the vast emptiness around you, the solemn quiet of his home. There was a lonely hush here, dark and endless, filling every corner, every shadow. And, of course, the lifeless ducks haphazardly thrown around. 
But there was no one else. 
Not a soul in these halls. 
You slipped your hand into his, guiding him toward the bed with a gentleness that felt at odds with your own intentions. You almost considered tucking him under the covers, wrapping him up and telling him that he didn’t have to prove anything to you, that he could wait until he was ready. But he wasn’t a child, and you weren’t here to be his caretaker. 
He lay down first, an eager anticipation flickering across his face despite the faint tremor in his limbs, his gaze fixed on you as you joined him. His body, still soft with nerves, lay at ease, his cock resting against his thigh. You reached out, taking him in hand, moving slowly as your fingers traced down his length, stroking him with a softness that coaxed him to relax. You felt him tense, then soften beneath your touch. 
“Oh… oh wow,” he breathed, his voice catching as he watched your hand, eyes wide with wonder. “Y-you’re… you’re pretty good at this,” he stammered, awe shimmering in his voice as he struggled to keep his composure, his gaze flicking between your face and your hand, his lips parting in quiet gasps. 
At that moment, you couldn’t help but smile—feeling the thrill of his innocence, of his complete surrender. And somewhere in the warmth of his admiration, his trust, you realized you didn’t mind slowing down. 
True to his word, his body responded to your touch with a newfound firmness, his length growing against your hand, his skin silky and heated beneath your fingers. The sensation felt achingly familiar, like a melody you’d danced to before, each note resonating with a purpose neither of you had voiced aloud but understood all too well. 
Loneliness.
That was the reason, unspoken and raw, why you both found yourselves here tonight. You didn’t need his name, didn’t need his history because tonight was about filling that hollow ache. It was a fix—a fleeting, intoxicating drug against the gnawing ache deep in your chest. For one night, the world and its relentless wear could fall away in the ecstatic blur of release. 
You moved to straddle him, your body lowering until your wet, aching centre pressed firmly against the length of his cock, heat melding with heat. His eyes flicked down to where your bodies connected, then back up to meet your gaze, a hungry, almost reverent look filling his face. As you began to grind your hips against him, the friction sent a rush of molten heat through you, a spark igniting as you slid over him, slick and needy. 
He watched, his breaths coming in short, shuddering waves, head falling back against the pillow, his hands twitching at his sides, unsure if he should reach for you or simply feel. His own pulse matched yours, every breath and heartbeat syncing to a rhythm of shared need, unburdened by names or burdens. 
Slowly, you lifted your hips, guiding him to your entrance, pressing yourself down until his thick, warm tip pushed past your folds. Inch by inch, you took him, feeling every delicious stretch, every bit of pressure radiating inside you. A soft, desperate mewl escaped your lips as you sank fully, your bodies meeting in a perfect, seamless join. The raw sensation of him filling you hit deep, igniting pleasure like embers to flame. 
His head tilted back, his eyes fluttering shut, a low hiss slipping past his parted lips. “This is…” he began, voice trembling, his fingers flexing as if fighting to keep control, “oh gosh… really wonderful.” His hands faltered, barely grazing your hips before he let them fall to his sides again, his face flushed with both pleasure and nervous restraint. His hips lifted, seeking you instinctively, meeting each of your downward strokes with soft thrusts that went deeper, each time pushing him further within. 
“Oh, oh jeez, oh—golly…” He groaned, his fingers twisting into the sheets as he struggled to find words, every breath shuddering as he fought to keep up. His words, his earnest surprise, almost made you laugh, a kind of sweetness seeping into his awkward sounds as he gripped the sheets tighter. “Wow…” 
You bit back a smile, letting a small laugh escape between breaths. “What? You’ve never had good sex before?” you taunted, rolling your hips, drawing him fully within before slamming back down again. 
His cheeks flushed a deep gold, his chest expanding as he gasped, his muscles tensing beneath you. “N-No—ah, that’s not…” His voice wavered, breaking off in a moan as he sucked in a breath. “Oh, no… if you keep doing that… I won’t last long.” His voice softened, rich with pleasure and just a hint of pleading, as his eyes met yours, full of shy desire. “Please… I want this to last… just a little longer.” His words trailed into a low, trembling moan, his hands finally reaching, hesitantly finding their place on your waist as he held you, breath heavy with yearning, surrendering entirely to the moment with you. 
You hummed thoughtfully, sliding him out of you, his cock springing free and bouncing against his stomach, throbbing with the loss of warmth. His sudden whimper made you smirk, biting back a laugh as you hovered just out of reach. 
“I'm nowhere close to finishing,” you teased, keeping your wet heat tantalizingly close to him, yet unreachable all the same. 
“I can fix that!” he nearly shouted, grinning like he’d just found a solution to all the world's problems. Sitting up eagerly, he waggled his eyebrows with such intensity that it made you giggle. “After all, I was quite the… generous eater in my day,” he added, flicking his forked tongue out for effect. 
“Oh, is that so?” You chuckled, giving him a playful look. “Show me, oh great, generous eater.”  
He joined in your laughter, but then his eyes drifted over your shoulder. His face faltered, brows knitting together, and you followed his gaze. The same family portrait you had initially noticed back in your view—a tall, curvaceous woman with long blonde hair standing beside him and a child who seemed to carry hints of both their features. 
You moved next to him, and leaned back, trying to keep your tone casual. “If you’re going to bring a one-night stand over, maybe next time use a room without a family portrait.” The words came out sharper than you intended, a twinge of bitterness souring the edge. 
His shoulders tensed as he turned to you, eyes wide with a guilty look. “Oh—no, that’s not…I…” He stammered, his hands fluttering in the air as if trying to reach some explanation. 
You sighed, deciding to throw him a lifeline. You were here for fun, not drama. “Hey, relax. It’s…whatever,” you said with a casual shrug, a grin playing on your lips. But that lingering bitterness in your chest didn’t quite vanish. 
Mr. Duck Lover seemed to seize onto your words, scrambling between your legs, though his excitement from earlier was starting to wane. “I’ll make it up to you,” he murmured, leaning close, fingers hesitating on the curves of your hips, as if battling his own mind. His face hovered near your core, yet he seemed frozen in place, like he was staring into the void rather than your body. 
It was quite a comical sight. 
If you weren't in the picture, that is. 
There he was—his head bowed at your centre, practically on the verge of a self-reflective breakdown. While you laid there, spread out and ready, and he was having an existential crisis. 
You sighed, raising an eyebrow as he muttered to himself, “I can do this,” almost like he was about to leap off a bridge instead of…well, pleasing you. His hands twitched as his hands hovered over your hips, eyes squeezing shut in concentration as if gearing up for some monumental challenge. 
By now, the mood had evaporated, leaving behind only the lingering awkwardness of his whispered self-encouragement. Five seconds later, you realized that, yes, you’d completely lost the heat of the moment, and this was likely going nowhere but more awkwardness. 
You reached out gently, brushing his cheek. “Hey…maybe we should…” you started softly, hoping to ease him off this self-imposed, anxious ride and spare you both whatever spiral he was about to go down. 
His eyes snapped to yours, full of a pleading, vulnerable intensity, his lips parted and his gaze almost desperate. “No, no, I can do it!” His voice trembled, and he bit his lower lip, the slightest twitch in his left eye betraying his nerves. “It’s just been….” 
You softened, trying to help him find the words. “Years?” 
“Centuries,” he murmured, looking away as if confessing a secret. 
Centuries. The realization hits you with a strange thrill. You liked older men, sure, but you wondered how long he had stayed in Hell for. “Oh…” was all you managed, feeling the surreal weight of the moment. 
“May I?” he asked, his voice a tender murmur, fingers twitching, hesitant to touch you. You could only nod, slightly taken aback that he was asking for permission now, especially after where you'd both already been just minutes earlier. 
The moment his fingers touched your skin, he exhaled deeply, closing his eyes as if relishing the warmth. He pressed a featherlight kiss against the curve of your hip, his touch more gentle than you could have imagined. With each kiss, he drifted lower, his lips tracing delicate patterns along your skin, until he found that sensitive spot just above your core, making you jolt beneath him. 
Your emotions tangled, caught between surprise and pleasure. You’d expected something hasty, careless, but this…this felt almost achingly tender. 
He opened his eyes, the intensity of his gaze softening as his lips brushed against you. Then, slowly, his tongue traced between your folds, a warm, pleasant heat that sent a gasp spilling from your lips. His own groan followed, deep and low, a sound of unrestrained need, as he continued to explore you, his lips and tongue working in gentle, insistent rhythms. 
You bit your lip, mirroring the way he’d done earlier, clutching the sheets as your body arched, heels pressing into the bed. Every reaction you gave seemed to stoke something in him, drawing another low, desperate moan from his throat. He rocked his hips against the mattress, as if drinking each of your gasps, as if they were fuelling his own desire. 
“Ah—D-don't stop,” you whimpered, your chest rising as your back arched from the bed. But he didn’t let you escape, his lips chasing every inch of you. His mouth closed around your sensitive nub, sucking gently before he dipped his tongue to explore further, the alternating sensations sending you spiralling. 
Your breath came ragged and broken, each wave of pleasure building faster as he licked and sucked with an almost feverish devotion. His own body responded in turn, his hips grinding against the bed, the friction drawing needy, guttural sounds from him that only fed your own pleasure. 
The rhythm intensified, and just as you thought you might break from the mounting sensation, he pressed deeper, his tongue a soft, insistent force. You clenched around the bliss rising within you, every muscle tensing, as he held you there, relishing every sound, every tremor of pleasure that passed between you both in the heady, dizzying night. 
“Shit,” you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair, fingers tightening as you pulled him closer. His lips pressed even harder against you, and you felt yourself unravelling, teetering on the edge of something wild and raw. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” you whimpered, your legs bending as the fire in your belly coiled tighter. Then, with one last fierce suck and an indulgent lick, he shattered your restraint. The wave of pleasure crashed over you, tearing a ragged cry from your throat as it flooded every inch of your body. 
He moved with you, his own hips shifting as if in sync with the rhythm of your climax, his mouth still sealed to you, eager to take in every tremor and quake of your release. His hand slipped beneath him, the hurried motion of his strokes intensifying, his fingers relentless as he chased his own peak while lingering over every pulse and shudder of yours. 
He moaned against you, his mouth vibrating with his own mounting pleasure, his hips twitching as he hit his release just after yours. His strokes slowed, tapering off as he gasped, his lips finally releasing you as his chest heaved. He knelt there, breathless, lips glistening from the shared passion, drenched by the evidence of his pleasure pooling between you. 
But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he crawled up beside you, eyes softened as he reached for you, arms wrapping tenderly around your shoulders, guiding you to rest your head against his chest. You stayed there, uncertain yet draped in the quiet intimacy of the moment. His heartbeat pounded against your ear, each beat so fierce you couldn’t tell if it was his or your own. 
His hand drifted up to brush your hair back, fingers combing gently as his breathing settled into a steady rhythm with yours. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, then another to the crown of your head, his lips lingering as if they held some unspoken affection, each kiss like a vow. 
“You were wonderful, dear,” he whispered, his voice a low, affectionate murmur, pressing another soft kiss to your hair. He stayed there, his arms cradling you, showering you with gentle kisses, an unexpected tenderness weaving around you both in the aftermath, grounding you in a warmth that felt real, if only for this moment. 
“I'm not sure how to even respond to that” you murmured, your mind still a haze, struggling to piece itself back together in the lingering aftershocks of your release. His fingers brushed tenderly along your cheek, and when you looked up, his eyes were warm, soft, his gaze holding an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. 
“You’re perfect,” he said, tilting your chin up, his voice thick with emotion. His lips pressed gently to yours, lingering as if he wanted to etch this moment into his mind. “You’re everything I want and more.” His voice cracked, barely a whisper, before he pulled you against his chest, his arms tightening around you with a fervency that felt almost desperate, as if he were holding on to something he couldn’t bear to lose. 
The raw affection in his embrace left you spinning. He held you as if you were his—an intimacy that felt foreign and startling. You’d just met him, after all. Yet here he was, clinging onto you as if you were more than a passing connection, as if you meant something deeper, something that couldn’t be dismissed. It was unnerving, a stark contrast to what you’d expected. 
Your eyes drifted to the shadowed portrait in the corner of the room, catching the faint outline of the woman in it—a powerful figure with curling horns and a smile that was as beautiful as it was unsettling. Whoever she was, she lingered here, like a ghost following his every step, a reminder of a past not fully left behind. 
But then, he murmured into your hair, “I love you. Please… don’t go.” His voice was fragile, almost broken, and his arms wrapped around you even tighter, his head pressing against yours, as if the strength of his embrace alone could keep you with him. 
There were many reasons people used Cinder. Some were looking for a thrill, some for a fleeting escape, some for connection in a moment that might otherwise feel empty. Maybe that was all this was, a bandage to the wound of loneliness he didn’t want to admit to, a warmth he hadn’t felt in ages. 
You hesitated, your hands resting limply against his back. This wasn’t what you’d come for; it wasn’t what you’d expected. But then, you could feel his frame trembling beneath your touch, the vulnerability in his grip as if he’d waited lifetimes to feel the comfort of another. Gently, you placed a hand on his back, feeling the way he drew in a shaky breath. 
“I won’t,” you whispered softly, almost to yourself, your voice filling the quiet between you.  “I’m here for you.”  
It was a lie, but a beautiful lie, nonetheless. 
At your words, he shuddered, holding you tighter, his trembling easing as if you’d just unlocked something buried within him.  
You were just a passing soul, but at this moment, maybe that was enough. 
534 notes · View notes
3rdgymbros · 2 months ago
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━ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲'𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 !
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— pairing; nagi seishiro x reader  
— summary; set in the future, where your baby with nagi comes early while he's playing in a match.
— notes; please donate to my kofi if you like my content and and please commission me because im broke. kisses to everyone who reblogs.
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❋ This is the most important game of Nagi’s career, and you’re not about to call him off the field for this.
❋ . . . Even if you might be in labour.
❋ You think you’re in labour, anyway.
❋ You’re looking into it.
❋ You try to brush it off as just another false alarm since the baby’s not due for another month, even as your stomach feels oddly tight and heavy.
❋ Now that you’re this far along, Nagi makes sure to pay extra attention to you, always checking on you before he leaves practice or matches. He kisses you sweetly as always, but he hesitates before leaving you alone in the stands, where you have an unobstructed view of the field. “Are you sure you're okay? You look kind of . . . Sweaty.”
❋ You wave him off with a smile, trying to act normal. “Just nerves.”
❋ The whistle blows and the match begins with all that usual fanfare. You try to lose yourself in the magic of the game, how effortlessly graceful Nagi looks when he’s dominating the field, but it’s hard as the contractions grow stronger, more intense than you could have ever imagined.
❋ You’re grimly determined to make it through the game, cheering for Nagi just as you’ve always done. So you dig your nails into the arm-rests of your seat and try to force the breath back into your lungs.
❋ Not yet. Not yet.
❋ It’s Reo who catches sight of you up in the VIP section of the stands; you’re shaking and doubled over, clutching at your stomach. A small crowd is already forming around you, and it’s hard to miss the panic on the face of Chigiri’s mother and older sister.
❋ “Nagi,” Reo says, an unusual urgency lacing his voice, and Nagi turns, follows the direction of his gaze.
❋ A very red-faced Chris Prince and the throng of fans are in an uproar when Nagi sprints off-field with a renewed burst of energy. His focus is completely on you now, the ongoing game now pushed to the very recesses of his mind. “Hey, what's wrong? You look weird.”
❋ You’re pale and tight-lipped, sweat sticking your hair to your face and neck, but you still try to act as though everything’s fine. “Nothing’s wrong. Go back to the game!” You try to shoo him away with a wave of your hand, but Nagi isn’t buying it.
❋ “Nah, you look like you're dying or something. That’s not normal.” he deadpanned, pulling out his phone to call his driver (well, Reo’s driver).
❋ “Go back to the game!” You try to tell him again, biting back a cry as another contraction rips through your body.
❋ Nagi shakes his head, already bending down to scoop you into his arms. "It’s just a game. You and the baby are more important," he mumbles, carrying you to the nearest exit with surprising strength.
❋ By the time you reach the hospital and you’re ushered into a private room, your contractions are coming in hard and fast waves, and you’re clutching Nagi’s hand like a vice. "Ow . . . How are you so strong? You’re so small . . ." he mutters, his face scrunching up in pain.
❋ Still wearing his jersey and cleats, Nagi stays by your side the entire time, which you’re grateful for since his calming presence helps more than you’ll admit. He’s completely unbothered by the fact that he missed the rest of the game (which his team, fortunately, won).
❋ What you’re NOT grateful for: his unhelpful comments. "Why does it take so long?”, “Can’t you speed it up?" Nagi gets the hint and shuts up when you hurl a pillow at him with a string of very colourful curses, because it’s his fault that you’re here, dammit.
❋ When the baby finally arrives, red-faced and announcing her arrival with a loud scream, Nagi stares at the tiny bundle in awe, his large frame completely dwarfing his child. But his large hands are gentle, holding his baby like she’s the most precious thing in the world. “Huh. She’s kind of like a mini you . . . So small and soft.”
❋ But when the baby yawns, all droopy-eyed and their small face a sleepy smudge, you think that your daughter looks more like Nagi.
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luveline · 1 year ago
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how about spencer x badass reader and they are wearing couple or similar clothes intentionally or unintentionally?? I think that would be cutee
tysm for requesting ♡ fem!reader
"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks, sounding like a kid in a candy store, a crisp twenty in his back pocket. 
Emily follows his line of sight and feels her cheeks apple unbidden, a delighted smile on her painted lips. "Oh, my god." 
"Yeah, Garcia?" Derek asks, phone to his ear, Penelope first on his speed dial. "You need to come and see this. Like, right now. Don't worry, baby, just come and see it for yourself." 
"I don't even know what to say." Emily stares at you. 
You usually dress in line with the other women in this profession: pants that aren't too tight so you can run in if needed, a simple blouse, and a blazer if you're feeling formal. 
Today, you've opted for something softer. It was a slow change, one day you were wearing a cashmere sweater, thin and fitted to your form. Another day, you chose to layer your shirt with a cardigan of a similar colour. 
Right now? You're all Spencer. Your slacks remain unchanged but your blouse has been swapped for a shirt with a stiff starched collar and layered under what can only be described as a grandpa sweater. It's not quite ugly, but it's almost identical to Spencer's. 
What's more, you've swapped your boots for converse. 
Spencer holds the door for you. He's chosen to wear a tie at least, clinging to that last strand of professional business attire. He has two coffees, one in each hand, while you carry a box. He's all elbows as he talks to you, and you, ever his fan, follow every word with a fond smile. 
"Hey, are you guys sharing a wardrobe now?" Derek asks, absolutely unwilling to hold back.
Emily piles on, "It's cute! You're totally an old married couple, you look like my grandparents." 
"What happened to your boots, lovergirl?" Derek asks, nodding at your cons, arms crossed over the back of his chair casually. "Don't get me wrong, I'm loving the sneakers." 
"You guys totally match," Emily coos. "You could be on a Christmas card." 
You smile —you smile, Emily might just call the news— and walk past them to your desk. Hotch has moved you away from Spencer knowing you'll encourage his endless chattering, which places you on a different island of desks next to Anderson and Agent Camille. 
Spencer put his coffee down on his desk, taking off his messenger bag. "Nice going, guys. She brought you donuts. You know, to apologise for calling you both antagonistic losers yesterday," he says, smiling at the mutual horror that crops up on their faces. "The fancy kind, too. She knew your favourite flavours without asking." 
From her desk, Emily can see you've opened the box and offered them to your desk mates, your expression unperturbed. "Just don't touch the chocolate sprinkle ones, they're for Spencer," you say.
No matter what they say, how sorry they sound, you give out the donuts to anyone who'll take one until they're all gone. When Garcia arrives, she finds you sitting in your desk chair with your head leaning against Spencer's stomach, taking alternate bites of the same sprinkle-covered donut like it isn't the most domestic, coupley thing you could be doing. 
Unlike Emily and Derek, Penelope genuinely thinks you look cute. "You guys are like Brangelina," she breathes, eyes wide, her smile infectious. 
Spencer fails to hide a grin, his hand on your shoulder. You're better at controlling your emotion, sliding a small parcelled package across the desk toward her.
"Thank you, Pen," you say. "I like the shoes. They're comfy. And the sweater was a gift." Spencer nods enthusiastically. 
That explains why you'd taken such an offence. Anything to do with Spencer raises your hackles. If you felt someone was making fun of his present to you, you'd defend him with your last dying breath, or, in this instance, punish your coworkers in his honour. 
"I'm sorry," Derek apologises again, "I was kidding! What do you want me to do, you want me to wear a sweater vest too? I can do that." 
You reach back to touch Spencer's side, levelling Derek with an impartial look. Not mad, not sad. Totally indifferent. "That could be a good start." 
Spencer hums. "I think so. You wanna borrow one of mine?"
The barest hint of a smile plays on your lips. "That's generous, Spence. You're a philanthropist."
"I am." He strokes the slope of your sweater-clad shoulder proudly. "You know me, I love sharing my wardrobe." 
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 7 months ago
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Good Omens graphic novel update: June 2024
Welcome to the June update. A lot of behind the scenes work at the moment but we're grabbing the travel sweets, popping in the Bentley and hitting the road. More on that below.
Admin
Ongoing reminder that the project FAQ can be found here. 
I pledged using my Apple ID, or no longer use the address my pledge is attached to, or I cannot work out what email address my pledge is connected to. What should I do? Please contact us via your Kickstarter account where the pledge is connected; we will be able to see on our system which address it is. If it's one you have access to, great! The FAQ has information on how to resend your invite link to access the PledgeManager. If it's one you are not able to access, then you can let us know which email is preferred and we can update this on the system, which will automatically send a new invite.
Events
We've had a lot of queries about when the Good Omens team will be attending events more formally, after some Aziraphale and Crowley spotting at conventions we'd been to previously. Well, we're excited to confirm the first: Good Omens HQ will be at ACME Comic Con in Glasgow, Scotland this September.
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We'll be bringing the actual-real-life-home-to-Crowley-and-his-plants Bentley from Season 2 of Good Omens, the first time the car has been made available publicly for fans to come see and get photos with, ahead of its journey back to the set and the start of Season 3 filming.
We also see Quelin Sepulveda, aka Muriel, has been announced for the event for some additional ineffable joy.
You can get your tickets for ACME Comic Con here. We hope to see some of you there.
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While we won't be rocking up with the Bentley to this next one, we want to let you know about Ineffable Con which, though sold out in person, is also taking place virtually in July. The fan-run event hosts great panels, auctions and more, with money raised going to Alzheimer’s Research UK, in memory of Sir Terry Pratchett.
Where next? We have - not an exaggeration - a list of about 200 events somewhere from when we asked fans this on Instagram and while we can't promise quite that amount of convention attendance, we're certainly looking to do some more things in future with Good Omens at large. Watch this space.  
Good Omens items...
This month has largely seen prototypes and samples for the wider Good Omens merch store arriving, and while we can't share those yet, we are certainly excited to see more fan product suggestions coming to life. That does, however, leave our public item updates a little slim on the ground.
To make up for that, here's some new panels from Colleen:
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Also known as, "What could possibly go wrong?" And:
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Also known as, "Well why don't you ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇!@#▇" or words to that effect, we'd imagine.  
Update from Colleen
Following such a positive response to Colleen's piece last month, bringing you behind the scenes into making the Good Omens graphic novel, we are delighted to say that she has agreed to write something for our updates going forward! For June, she's going more in depth into the process of flatting and the technicalities of colouring on screen vs print. Over to you, Colleen.
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I mentioned the other month that I use a flatter to help me with technical work on GOOD OMENS, and here is a great example.
This is my original, hand drawn line art.
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And this is the flatting file which was created using the MultiFill computer program.
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It will put your eyes out.
The raw image above demonstrates how the color art lines up solidly under the line art. If it doesn't do that, you get a weird phenomenon in print called ghosting, a tiny little line of white around each segment of color. I had this issue on one major project and ended up redoing every single color file after I got a look at the first printing. Nearly two weeks of work.
The same image with the line art on top.
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The layer order looks like this.
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Background copy is the clean, line art layer.
I scan the art at 600 dpi, then make the blacks pure black, the whites pure white. Then I convert back to greyscale, then RGB, then duplicate the layer. Then I delete the white on the upper layer so the line art layer is transparent but the blacks on that layer are not.
If you have blacks on a layer that has been multiplied, you can see slight color through those blacks. You want pure black.
The lower layer is where I use the MultiFill program to create the digital flats. First you use MultiFill to drop in the random colors, then the companion plug-in Flatter Pro to make those colors seal under the black lines.
This probably sounds like a silly thing to worry about, but if the flat colors don’t line up perfectly under the black line art, you get the dreaded ghosting I mentioned. You can see it below in this image. It’s a tiny little white line that will appear around the black lines and color areas.
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This drives me nuts and is an absolute nightmare to fix.
It’s a very common problem, especially for people who work for web and don’t anticipate the problems going from web to print.
What looks great on your computer can cause big problems in print.
From here, my flatter Jul Mae Kristoffer, who is way over in the Philippines, does flatting that is more in keeping with the areas of color I want to isolate. As you see on Layer 1.
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But again, this is still pretty ugly, and not what I would use for final color. Flatting is a technical issue, not a creative one, though in some cases a flatter will make choices you may use. Most of the time they don't.
Here is my final color page.
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Sometimes my MultiFill flats are so wonky I have a hard time getting my brain to snap out of what I see before me. If I get stuck, it's a good idea to just pick at it and come back to it later.
If it really, really bothers me, I’ll take the MultiFill flatter layer and desaturate the color so it doesn’t poke my eyes out.
Here’s an example. The digital flat file.
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The desaturated flat file that doesn’t make me want to poke my eyes out.
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And the final color.
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Sometimes I just put in a solid white layer so I don’t see the flats at all. Flatting is there to allow you to easily pick spots to color in, and doesn’t usually appear in the final work.
Sometimes I want to create my colors using transparent color over a white ground, which is more delicate in the final.
Here’s an example from Neil Gaiman’s American Gods. I also selected all black line art here and converted it to sepia to give it a vintage look. Except for the fairies. They’re green.
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A colorist must also consider color settings.
Different clients can have different requirements. I find these color settings, which I got from the Hi-Fi Studio, to be pretty solid. I use them as my default for all my projects unless otherwise requested. If your publisher has other settings, they’ll usually send you a csf file which you can upload to Photoshop. The program will save your files and you can just switch between them as you need them.
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This tells the printer things about the paper and the spread of the ink you will use. That’s what dot gain means - it makes printed color look darker than intended, so you set up your files to account for it.
When you hover your pointer over each box, it will tell you what each setting is supposed to accomplish.
Another really important thing to consider when coloring comics is color range.
I’m coloring this book in RGB range, but for print you use CMYK.
I’m about to confuse the heck out of some people with this post, I’m afraid. But here we go.
Here is this shot in RGB color setting.
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And here is the same page calibrated for print in CMYK.
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The biggest shift is in the reds. Print cannot match those reds.
You may not see much difference here, but it’s the sort of thing that drives artists crazy.
A computer should be perfect for conveying exactly what you want, right? It's all just 0's and 1's, binary information, and that information should be the same from one computer to the next?
Nope. Not even close.
First off, computer monitors must be calibrated. You can use a computer program or a tool that measures the color on your computer screen and then adjusts the color to an industry standard.
Have you ever been in an electronics shop where a bunch of TV shows were on display, all of them playing the same show, and have you noticed how different the color was from one TV to the next?
It's like that.
I freely admit I don't pay a whole lot of attention to calibration, but if I were a professional photographer I would. I'd have a little spectrometer attached to my screen and software would adjust my monitor to the best possible standard range. As it is, I just use the default setting on my computer and hope for the best.
If your monitor is properly calibrated and your art is shown on another monitor that is properly calibrated, the art will look almost identical from one monitor to the next.
YAY!
But from one monitor to the next, that's about where the resemblance ends.
Colors are calibrated to something called RGB, or Red, Green, Blue.
All colors come from a mix of red green and blue. At their greatest intensity, all the colors in the spectrum together become pure white light.
This is why RGB is called ADDITIVE color, because you ADD colors from the spectrum to get ALL colors, and all colors create the entirety of the rainbow, and pure white light.
Your computer monitor, your phone, your television, all images are created via light using RGB, a gamut that covers all possible colors that can be created.
That's a lot.
And that's why some of the colors you see on your TV or phone are so deep and intense.
For the widest possible range of color and intensity, you use RGB.
Unfortunately, there is what you can create with light, and then there is what you can create with pigment or ink. And that is why printing what you see on your computer almost never looks exactly like what you see in a book.
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For printing, you must use a color setting known as CMYK. This stands for Cyan, Magenta, Yellow and Key/Black.
In printing, the pure blue is actually Cyan and the pure red is actually Magenta.
CMYK color range is not created by addition, but by SUBTRACTION. In order to get the color you want, you reduce the percentage of one of the four colors for ink mixing. Mixing all colors, instead of giving you white, gives you black.
The gamut of CMYK is limited to what can be created with ink.
You've probably heard the term four color press? This is what that means. Four colors, with each color of ink run over the paper on rollers which, combined in varying layers of opacity, create all the printing colors you see.
But remember, what you see on your computer monitor and what CMYK gamut can handle are two different things.
Now, I’ve been really careful with the color settings on Good Omens, so there haven’t been any big surprises, but let me show you a snippet of a project I did for the French fashion house Balmain.
The RGB version:
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And then this shot after it was converted to a CMYK file for print.
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That's a pretty big difference.
Now, you see this shift mostly with vibrant colors, such as that pink there. But other colors hardly changed at all, right?
That's because this issue is about range of color. CMYK and RGB occupy a shared range which you can see demonstrated by this graphic I got from Wikipedia.
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The graphic shows the RGB ranges supported by various digital formats. SWOP CMYK is the most common range my publishers use. Note that the bounding box line shared by the RGB and SWOP CMYK formats shares about half the range space. So whatever RGB colors you use that are outside that range will be digitally converted to the smaller SWOP CMYK range.
And you may not like what you end up with.
As you can see, some of the most ethereal and intense colors get lost outside of the SWOP CMYK boundary.
A look at the Dark Horse Comics color settings in Photoshop. Theoretically, this information should prevent your art from looking like mud on publication.
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Now, after I just told you the dangers of coloring in RGB then converting to CMYK for print, I tell you I am coloring Good Omens in RGB anyway. There’s a couple of reasons for this.
Remember, RGB give you a greater range of color, so it can be to your advantage to preserve your original files using a format that gives you the greatest range.
Again, here is the unaltered file.
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You can see what the CMYK result will be simply by clicking the Proof Colors button here. This will show you how the art will convert.
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And the Gamut Warning will show you which colors are out of gamut range for print.
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The intensity of that magenta and that purple in the top right are not going to print true.
This is how it will look in final.
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So even if you do what you think is perfect color on screen, there is no way it can perfectly convert to print. Almost everything will involve a little bit of compromise.
Even though you have to consider the color shift issues, preserving your files in RGB gives you greater wiggle room, especially if you get lucky someday and get to work with a printer who can print in 6 colors. Or maybe some technology you don’t know about will pop up and make printing super glorious. Who knows.
Regardless, you should keep an eye on that gamut and color for CMYK print, while preserving your master files in RGB.
Until next time.
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