#I feel like I can never say thank you enough

[navybrat817]

Any thoughts for WETnesday with Bucky?🤭🤭

Okay, Syd. I wrote this after work for Wetnesday and promptly fell asleep. So, I'm posting this on Thirsty Thursday! And that has to be Mr. Barnes before you two are married.

Dinner Plans

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn't want to be late for dinner, but you don't seem to be in a rush to go.

Word Count: Over 2.8k

Warnings: Established relationship, quick unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, lovelies), possessive behavior, a bit of humor and fluff, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I love this couple, okay? @targaryenvampireslayer and @starlightcrystalline, I hope you enjoy! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was still early in the evening as Bucky got ready for dinner. Checking his watch once he put it on, he sighed. If he was late, Steve would give him a hard time. And if Steve gave him a hard time, Sam would only give him the gasoline to fuel the fire. Just the thought of it had his face shift to his grumpy stare you loved.

His gaze softened when you went to the vanity. Would the guys give him a hard time if he said he was in love and wanted as much alone time with you as possible? How being with you was like floating on a cloud and being pulled back down to earth all at once? He didn’t care if they’d call him out for being sappy. He sure as hell suffered enough in his life that he could afford to be appreciative of you and maybe a little selfish when it came to you.

But checking the time, he grumbled. “We were supposed to leave five minutes ago,” he said.

He would’ve rather gone to a hole in the wall kind of place or a diner to have dinner, but it wasn't his turn to pick the dinner out with some of the gang. Plus it was nice getting to dress up with you since you liked how he looked in suits. To be fair, you said he looked good in anything and he felt the same way about you. How you always managed to look like a goddess, he’d never know.

You hummed. “We still have a few minutes to spare,” you said, which he wasn’t sure how you knew since you hadn’t looked at the time. “And you are not dressed yet, so it’s not like we can head out the door.”

He paused to stare at you. “Neither are you,” he pointed out, licking his lips as you leaned forward a bit more as you applied your makeup. He shook his head after a moment, trying to snap himself out of the spell you always managed to put him under. “I’m bringing you one of my cardigans to put over your shoulders in case you get cold.”

Because the weather was nice for the evening, you picked out a sleeveless dress. He didn’t know if the restaurant would be cold though, and he didn’t want you shivering through the meal. You likely had something to match your dress, but putting one of his cardigans over you was like that extra touch of belonging to him in case anyone got any ideas.

“You just want one of your shirts draped over me like a big neon sign that says I’m yours and you don't want guys checking me out on my dress,” you said like you knew exactly what he was thinking. There was no reason to deny your words since it was the truth. “But I appreciate the thoughtfulness.”

“I do like my clothes draped over you,” he smirked. He liked having his smell on you, too. “But you know what I don’t like? Steve and Sam bitching if we’re late. It’ll spoil my appetite.”

“Aww, my poor super soldier,” you teased, smiling at him in your reflection and making his heart skip a beat. “If we’re late, you can just blame me. I won’t let them give you a hard time, okay?”

Bucky couldn’t blame you though. Not entirely. You were late getting in the shower thanks to him insisting on the two of you staying in bed. Serum stamina or whatever you wanted to call it, but he felt bad some days for his almost constant need. You didn’t seem to mind though.

“They won’t believe me,” he said, staring again when the strap of your bra slipped from your shoulder. “And baby, you know I adore you, but you need to quit distracting me so I can finish getting dressed.”

Ever since you moved in, you’d been a distraction in a wonderful way. He often found that he’d pause to look at photos or little touches you incorporated into the place, giving him a chance to reflect on memories you made together and even learn more about who you were before you met. Hearing your laughter or voice call to him from another room also made him drop whatever he was doing, too. Sharing a space with someone could be daunting, but it was easy with you, like you had lived together for years. It made him look forward to more.

“Me? Distracting you?” You turned your head toward him and gave him an innocent glance. You were anything but innocent. “I'm not doing anything.”

Bucky almost snarled. Like hell you weren't doing anything. Swaying your hips and prancing around in your lingerie before you sat to get ready, lingerie which barely covered your gorgeous tits and sweet cunt. He wanted to rip it to shreds or tear it off with his teeth. You wouldn’t mind, right? He could always get you more to destroy.

“Not doing anything? Look at you,” he said incredulously as you turned back to the mirror and pushed your bra up. He should’ve been holding your breasts. “Why aren't you wearing a robe?”

You tilted your head. “Well, you said before I got in the shower that we were in a slight rush, so I figured putting on the robe was a waste of time. At least I have my underwear on, though I know you’d rather I be naked.”

If Bucky had his way, you’d be naked all the time. At least, when you two were at home. Logically he knew he couldn’t have that at work, functions, or anything of that nature, but the image in his head was nice. “For such a rush you seem to be taking your time.”

“I'm not taking my time. I'm finishing my makeup,” you argued, carefully applying your lipstick. “Like it?” you asked, blowing him an air kiss. It was a pretty shade. It would look even prettier smeared around his cock.

He closed his eyes with a groan. Some days he felt like a caveman with the thoughts that consumed him. “You look beautiful,” he said once he opened his eyes. Like always. “Now get your dress on so I can show you off before I put the cardigan on you.”

“Show me off?” You slowly stood from your chair and gave him a generous view of your backside. His cock twitched in his pants, and there was no reason to hide the pure lust in his eyes when you turned to face him. “You flatter me, Mr. Barnes.”

He chuckled. It always did something to him when you called him Mr. Barnes. It was something affectionate, sweet. “I think you’re the one flattering me, Mrs.-” he exhaled before he could finish, and he heard the hitch in your breath across the room.

“What was that?” you asked breathily.

He adjusted the watch on his wrist and avoided your gaze. You were his girl, yeah, and the love you had for each other spoke volumes, but you weren’t his wife. Not yet. God, how he wanted you to be- for you to take his last name, wear his ring on your finger, be his partner in all aspects of life. He wanted it to be more than just a dream.

“I didn’t say…” He cleared his throat and put on a blank face, only because he didn’t know how you’d react. “Anything.”

Your eyes raked over him before you beckoned him forward with a finger. He swore no one would ever control him again after HYDRA brainwashed him, but you could’ve commanded him to do anything. It didn’t frighten him because you would never harm him, never take advantage of him. Taking him into your care and maintaining his trust was one of the ways you showed you loved him.

Once he stood in front of you, barely an inch away, you whispered, “Were you about to call me Mrs. Barnes?”

He swallowed hard, his heart racing. It was one thing to say you loved each other, to want a future together, but what if you weren’t ready when he popped the question? “I was,” he whispered back.

You smiled, not looking the least bit put off or afraid. He should've known it wouldn't bother you, especially with you being the one to say “I love you” first. “I think that has a really nice ring to it,” you said, your hands moving to unbuckle his belt.

“You think so?” he asked, forgetting for a moment that he was capable of breathing. “You like the idea of being my wife?”

Bucky would no doubt be the kind of husband who’d brag about you. He’d find ways to insert “my wife” in conversations just to let others know that you picked him out of everyone else on the planet. Not just that, he wanted people to know how proud he was to be your man and that he’d find reasons every day to be proud of you.

“I love it,” you confirmed, sighing when he ran his fingertips along your arms. “Makes my heart race,” you admitted. He could hear it. “Makes me wet.”

Bucky arched his hips and pressed up against you. “Baby, you’re gonna kill me,” he whispered, not stopping you as you unbuttoned his pants. He was thinking of just cancelling dinner so he could throw you on the bed and stay inside you for the rest of the night. “We need to-”

“Oh. Now might be a good time to tell you that Steve pushed the reservation back by a half hour,” you cut in, mouthing over his racing pulse. “He figured he’d message me since I’m better about checking my phone, and-”

Bucky picked you up with ease and tossed you onto the bed. Your wide-eyed expression as you bounced nearly had him busting out of his pants, and he didn’t hesitate to crawl over you and pin you down. Relishing in the moan you let out when he lightly bit your neck, he did it again a little harder. “No wonder you took your time and teased me,” he smirked when you squirmed beneath him. “My future wife.”

“My future husband,” you moaned, bucking your hips up. “Need you in me. We can be quick.”

You got a hand in his hair and forced his head up to yours, your tongue impatiently pushing into his mouth. He groaned in understanding, feeling just as desperate as you. Knowing how turned on you were at the thought of being his wife turned him on, and he could barely form a coherent thought as he took his cock out and gave it a couple of quick pumps.

“Say it again,” he demanded, shoving your panties aside and rubbing the head of his cock along your slit. He took his time earlier today stretching you, and he wanted nothing more than to feel you around him again.

And the way you reached between your bodies and gripped the base of his cock, he knew you wanted the same when you said, “Fuck me, my future husband.”

He eased in gently, making you whine. He thought he’d whine, too, for a second because of how good he felt. God, how good it would feel to hold your hand one day and feel his ring against your skin. “You okay?” he asked, dragging his thumb along your lower lip once he was fully inside you. You were tight still, so wet, and oh, he was going to fuck you and make it quick, but he wasn’t going to hurt you.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, starting deep into his eyes as you clenched around him with purpose and brushed his hair back. He tried to be still, tried not to thrust like a wild animal. “Are you?”

“I’m okay,” he promised, easing his hips back. “Just hold on while I fuck you.”

Your back arched when he slammed himself back in nice and deep, your cry bouncing off the walls. Here in the comfort of your home you didn’t have to smother any noises, didn’t have to keep quiet. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how you were the queen of his world.

Being inside you all he got out was, “You feel so fucking good.”

And because you could read him like no one else could, you tenderly smiled. “I love you, too.”

He threw his head back as you clutched his arms, determined to make you feel good, determined to show you how much he loved you even as he fucked you. “Gonna put you on your hands and knees after dinner. Make you watch in the mirror while I fuck you,” he groaned. “Can imagine it's part of our honeymoon.”

“Please!’ you moaned, trying to meet his thrusts.

Bucky grabbed your thighs to lift you higher, uncaring if he ruined his pants for the evening. Watching you tremble beneath his, a vision of ecstasy, he was happy to stay there forever. Wrapped up in you was where he always wanted to be.

“Gonna come,” you moaned, reaching up to pull his hair again, your body quaking. “Bucky, please.”

Bucky groaned. He hadn’t rubbed your clit how he wanted to. Didn’t get to tear your bra off and tease your nipples. He did promise to fuck you later though, and he’d do all those things and more. “Then come for me,” he smirked, leaning down to say against your lips, “Future. Mrs.. Barnes.”

You got impossibly tight and the flood of wetness that gushed around him triggered his own orgasm, a rush of heat filling him as he filled you. His mouth fell open as you clung to him, and he heard you moan his name as your eyes went glossy. He wanted the image of you getting off to taking his last name etched in his brain for all time. He wanted his name to fall from your lips again and again on your wedding night.

The cloud in his mind began to lift. You, his future wife, were beneath him, still shaking, still holding him like a lifeline. He didn’t want to let you go either. “Holy… shit…” you panted.

He braced himself above you, trying not to crush you as the euphoria slowly faded. It never really went away though. Not with you. “Holy shit,” he agreed. He stayed inside you, your sweet mewl making him smile as he kissed you. “Is this a new kink?” he asked, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, touching his cheek. “New kink unlocked.”

Touching your lips with his once more, he chuckled. “You ruined my pants,” he teased. It wouldn’t have been the first time. The first time you rode his thigh and got your release all over it, he nearly came, too. “Good thing I have a few minutes to change.”

He cradled you close when he shifted to the side, making you moan again. “Yeah, well, you ruined my panties. Fair is fair.”

“I did,” he smirked, running his fingers along your spine. “Hey.”

“Hey what?”

“I love you,” he whispered, wanting to say it as often as he could. They weren’t just words, but a declaration, a promise.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, tracing one of the buttons on his wrinkled shirt.

His lips brushed your forehead. He’d never get tired of hearing you say that. “If I asked you to marry me right now, would you say yes?”

He wouldn’t propose right this second. You deserved something more romantic. But in his heart, he just wanted to hear you say that you’d say yes.

You giggled, your eyes full of love. “I would say yes in a heartbeat,” you replied, kissing him gently. Your answer relieved him. “And I’d marry you anytime, anywhere.”

He raised an eyebrow. “But?” he asked, sensing a “but” in there.

“But don’t ask me right now, okay?” you smiled, in sync with his thoughts. “I mean, I’d like to think my pussy would make you propose now-”

“And it would,” he smirked.

You giggled again. “But ask me when I’m not expecting it… Whenever it feels right to you.”

“I will,” he promised.

“Looking forward to it.” You snuggled closer and missed his look of adoration. “Hold me for one more minute before we get ready to go?”

As if he could ever deny you. “I’ll hold you as long as you want,” he whispered.

He no longer cared if Steve or Sam gave him shit should they show up late. If you wanted him to skip dinner just to hold you, he’d do it. If you wanted him to surprise you when he proposed, he would. And no matter when Bucky asked you to be his wife, he’d make sure it was perfect as it could possibly be.

AHH! I love them so much. How do you lovelies think he proposed? ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[dirtylittlesecre7]

Oh my gosh— someone who writes for nam-gyu? Am I dreaming?! I CANNOT find any fics of him!! Need headcannons about him rn😩 I feel like that man would enjoy making you cry and upset, like he would grin and laugh while doing so. (Cough— Hatefuck—cough..) Just need headcannons about that man so bad😩🫣

This is actually my first time asking, so I really don't know what to say🥲 but I hope you consider this🫶🫶🫶

-🌟anon

warning | nsfw content

word count | 0,6k

a/n | thank you so much for your request luv! I hope I could write something as you wanted

！he's had mixed feelings from the moment he first saw you. hate? anger? like?

oh no, not like. he just hates you so much that he wants to fuck you until you know your place.

"fucking bitch."

"huh?" thanos looked at him incomprehensibly, about to turn his head to you, but nam-gyu quickly changed the subject "nothing."

！he's insanely jealous of thanos👀 even if you don't respond to his flirting, seeing a man next to you makes him angry enough. at least it gives him a reason to make you cry more.

！he should be the only one who annoys you. if he sees someone picking on you, he'll quickly intervene, at first he'll protect you from that person, but then...

"are you too stupid to not protect yourself? no. don't even think about crying." his emotionless voice makes you tremble as he watches you quickly wipe your tears away "good. don't you dare unless I make those tears flow."

！he likes to tease you until you cry because he thinks you look so beautiful with tears in your eyes. If you turn your head and try to hide your face from him, he will forcefully grab your chin and make you look at him with your eyes full of tears. you will see that he is trying to calm down by taking a deep breath because oh...you have no idea how horny he is.

！If he can't sleep at night, he will come to your bed and bother you. If he can't sleep, you can't sleep either. but strangely, talking at night is when you get along the most. guess you are both too tired to argue, but that doesn't mean he won't say a few things about you.

okay, now please hear me out..

！this man is completely clingy when he loves you, but he is also hard when he fucks you, I can't say he doesn't like slow sex, but when he can fuck you like crazy, he doesn't really think about the other option.

！I say clingy because he can never be comfortable if his hand is not on your body in some way. he has to touch you in some way so that he feels better. when you least expect it, you may find his hands on your waist pulling you closer to him "mm...look who's here?"

！If we talk about life outside of the game, you can become his only world. yes, he likes to make you cry and upset. but only you. the others have never caught his attention and they don't. he still thinks you have the most beautiful tears.

！I can't say he's very loud in bed. he'll mostly let out short gasps and short moans. he likes listening to you more, whine for him and he'll make you see stars.

！he likes to tease you and make you cum so much that you cry from sensitivity. when you beg him to stop, he just puckers his lower lip in a mocking tone.

"aw.. does it hurt? what should I do?" he leans into your ear while his fingers, which don't stop, hit the inside of your pussy hard while you just had your 3rd orgasm "Is that all you can take? c'mon.. you can give me more, hm? ah..yes don't hide your voice from me, fuck-"

！he'll run his hand over you while you're sleeping at night, sorry not sorry. when you open your eyes and notices how his fingers are expertly tangled in your wetness, he'll smirk and say "you awake? good. now you better spread your legs for me and be loud as possible."

he's obsessed with you in some way, romantic or not, and he has no plans to leave your side.

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 12 - The End

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 12 of 12!

They were alone. Just the three of them.

Colette had never felt so exhausted in her entire life. But she had also never been so happy. Charlie had been fed once more and had then fallen back asleep, curled up on her father’s chest. Colette herself could barely keep her eyes open.

And she should be sleeping, but she could only watch her daughter curled up against Max's chest.

"How did we manage to create something so perfect?" She asked him softly.

Max let out a tired little huff of laughter, not bothering to open his eyes. “She is perfect, isn’t she?” he murmured quietly.

Colette felt a smile tugging at her face. “Perfect and absolutely beautiful,” she agreed quietly, shifting a little to get a better look at the two of them. "So perfect it almost hurts to look at her."

Max smiled at her. "I...There is this thing you should know," he said hesitantly.

Something about his tone, the hesitance in his voice, made Colette pause. "What is it?" she asked curiously.

"I may have told the whole world about us? On Instagram?" he admitted with a grimace.

She could only snort at that. "I think your father made sure that that cat was out of the bag," she told him drily. "What did you say?"

"That we have been a couple for 15 years. That I couldn't be happier with you and our little family," he said simply. "I wanted everybody to hear our truth," Max said softly. "Not what other people write."

"There is a romantic inside you after all," Colette teased him softly.

"You aren't angry?" Max checked.

Colette sighed. "Not at you," she said simply. "I can't be angry at you. You just want people to know how happy we are together. We kept it quiet for years for me," Colette said, staring at her daughter. "Is it weird that it feels like she put everything into perspective?" she asked him, nodding towards Charlie. "I just...I don't care anymore,” she admitted.

Max stared at her, blue eyes wide, but Colette just shrugged. “I was terrified for so long what people were going to think about me once they knew about us...but now...I don't care. What does it matter?"

Max reached over and laced his fingers through hers. "It doesn't," he promised her. "I'll start screaming it from the rooftops tomorrow, if you'll let me."

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "I think the media already knows," she teased, squeezing his hand. "We can just put my Instagram on public and let them eat their heart out," she suggested. It wasn’t meant seriously. Not really. 

But the more she thought about it, she wondered if that was what it was going to take. Opening up the digital scrapbook of her life. Letting anybody have a peek at their relationship. Hoping that finally they would understand.

"We'd break the internet," Max retorted, grinning at her.

Colette laughed. "We really, really would. Reason enough  to do it?" she teased him.

"And give my PR team a heart attack? Absolutely,” Max returned immediately. “Tell me when.” 

"I love you," she told him seriously. "And I am ready to love you in public too."

She had done it from the shadows for 15 years after all.

He stared at her. "Are...Are you sure?"

"I am very, very sure, mon coeur," Colette told him softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "The only opinion that matters to me is yours - and my family's. I don't care what anyone else thinks," she added, glancing down at Charlie again, who slept blissfully on, cuddled against Max's chest.

"If people want to call me an attention whore or a gold digger, they are welcome to it," Colette said quietly. "I don't care. I'm happy and you're happy and our baby is happy. Let them write whatever they want."

***

"Marry me," Max blurted out.

His words came out of his mouth before he had even realised what he was saying. The room suddenly became very quiet, as if all the oxygen had suddenly been sucked out of it, and Max suddenly realised that he had just blurted out the question he had been meaning to ask for months, at a time that couldn’t be further from ideal.

Colette was staring at him, her eyebrows raised and a look of surprise on her face. She seemed frozen and totally caught off guard by his question. And he didn’t blame her for that. She was exhausted, and had just given birth, and here he was, bombarding her with questions as if this was the perfect moment to do it.

But then she smiled at him. 

"Yes," Colette said simply. "Always yes. You know that.”

Relief surged through him so strongly, Max thought he might just about collapse. She had said yes.

Granted she had said yes the last time as well. 

He remembered that day like it had been yesterday…remembered coming home that May evening in 2016…Fuelled with adrenaline from his first “proper” win. Remembered the trophy that still had a place of pride in their living room…the bottle of champagne, the Pirelli cap…and the ring that he had bought after that race. The celebratory crepes for breakfast the next day where still a tradition they kept with. 

Max felt like he could have exploded there and then, just from happiness. He couldn’t believe that he had just asked her, that she had just said yes. It didn’t feel real. It felt like something out of a dream.

"Yes?" he repeated incredulously, just to make sure he hadn’t actually dreamt it. "You’ll marry me?"

"Properly this time," she teased him, with the most beautiful smile on her face, as she leane up to press a kiss against his lips. “I’ll marry you, Maxie.”

He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, the sound breathless. It wasn’t just exhaustion that made him sound like that, it was disbelief, a sort of giddy lightness.

"Properly this time," he echoed back to her, his words soft. "You’ll marry me properly."

He couldn’t actually believe she was saying yes. "I do have a ring," he assured her. "It's at home. I hid it in the trophy."

Colette laughed. "Of course, you hid it in the trophy," she repeated, her voice warm and amused."Of course you did."

Max gave her what he hoped was at least a resemblance of a sheepish look. “Where else would it be safe?” he said defensively. "And I know you wouldn't look there," he added.

"A perfect place to hide something you don't want me to find," Colette agreed.

Max grinned at her. "Exactly," he said happily, gently brushing her hair from her face.

"Which trophy?" she asked him seriously.

"Spain 2016," he answered honestly. His first one. The one. 

"You hid it in the 2016 trophy?" Colette repeated, her smile widening into a grin. "Really?"

"Just felt appropriate,” he answered honestly. He still remembered handing it to Colette for the first time, the ring that he had bought clanging around in the bottom of it. 

"It is," she agreed softly, leaning up to press a kiss against his lips.

Max smiled against her mouth, his arms tightening around her, pulling her a little closer. He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. He couldn’t believe he had just blurted out the one question he had been wanting to ask for ages, and she had actually just said yes.

"You’re really going to marry me," he mumbled against her mouth, unable to help the words. "You’re actually going to marry me."

"I had your baby, but this is what shocks you?" Colette asked him with a laugh. 

He laughed, pulling her closer again and nuzzling his face into her shoulder, her words causing him to blush faintly. “I love you,” he mumbled against her skin quietly.

"I love you too," she echoed back quietly. "And yes, I will marry you. As many times as you’ll ask."

"I am the luckiest man in the whole world," he said softly.

"No, I’m the luckiest," she told him gently, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close again. "To have you, and this, and Charlie, and all of it. It’s everything I ever wanted.”

[moonstruckme]

Pookie! I need you to write me something pretty please :)

Can you write Remus comforting a reader with an anxiety disorder when someone told them "there's nothing to be anxious about. You just want attention" ??? Pretty please?? Love you pookieeeeeee

Thanks for requesting!

cw: mean girl stuff, social anxiety

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 929 words

“Shh.” Remus holds you close to his chest, his hand moving up and down your arm now that your crying has slowed. “It’s okay. It’s just us, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you echo, croakily. You’re glad you can’t see your boyfriend’s face, for fear you’d die of embarrassment otherwise. The looming insecurity of your day stands over you like a grim reaper. 

You arrived home from a friend’s birthday dinner to find Remus sitting on the couch, already marking the page of his book as he turned to you with a soft smile. 

“Hi, sweetheart. How was it?” 

You replied, through a laugh that turned into a sob halfway through, “Not great.” 

The dinner had been an event of foreboding for you since your invite. You’d been determined to be a good friend by not bailing, but actually going had confirmed your worst fears; it was loud, crowded, filled with people you didn’t know and didn’t fit with. Your outfit wasn’t right, the menu was daunting, and conversation swirled all around you about things you weren’t a part of. The fallout was basically inevitable. 

You perhaps waited too long to excuse yourself. You were sweating buckets and breathing around a lump by the time you did, whispering an explanation to your friend before locking yourself into a bathroom stall to talk yourself down. You’re sure she didn’t mean anything by telling the people sitting closest to her why you were gone—you don’t think she’d do it to gossip, and she’s never talked down to you about that sort of thing, at least not to your face—but by the time you returned one of her friends—a stranger to you, who’s name you can’t even remember—had formulated a fairly decisive opinion and dubbed you an attention seeker. 

You stayed only a little longer after that. Just long enough to avoid attracting more attention. And you worked yourself up well enough on the way home that all it took was one innocent question from Remus to send you crumpling into his arms. 

You’ve tried to steel yourself more than once, but any attempts at stoicism have been foiled by your boyfriend’s tender looks and whispered placations, which only make you cry harder. If you’re an attention seeker, Remus is your holy grail. Self loathing sits lodged in your throat like a stone. 

“Whose friend was it, again?” Remus asks, stroking your arm gently. 

You take a breath, trying to steady your voice. “Does it matter?” 

“I don’t mean it’s your friend’s fault, sweetheart,” Remus says. He’s all softness and patience, better than you could ever deserve. “I just thought you might talk to her, if you want to. She ought to know her friend is going around saying cruel things.” 

“She was there.” Your throat tightens at the memory. 

“Oh. Then I don’t suppose you need to say anything; I’m sure she’s already very upset for you.” 

You try to laugh, frustrated with yourself when it only seems to spur another wave of tears. “Rem. You’re biased.” 

“What?” Remus sounds genuinely surprised. “You don’t think she’s angry with that other girl?”

“She’s her friend.” 

“So are you.” His arms tighten around you protectively, chin bumping your head. “I may be biased, but the other girl was clearly in the wrong. There’s no excuse for the way she acted.” 

A dozen rebuttals fly about your head, but you keep your mouth shut. You don’t have the energy to argue. Unfortunately, Remus hears your argument in the silence anyway. 

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, “no one puts themselves through what you do for attention. You don’t choose to feel that way.”

You hunch your back, tucking your head underneath his chin. “I do get attention for it, though.” 

“That doesn’t mean you want it.” 

“But I—”

“Do you want it?” You can’t see Remus, but you hear the hardened edge to his tone. “Did you like it, when that girl called attention to you in the middle of the dinner?” 

Your voice smalls. “No.” 

“Right.” The gentleness returns. Remus puts his lips to your head. “I know you didn’t, dovey. So don’t torment yourself, please. She doesn’t know anything about you.” 

You push your lips together. He lets you chew on your next words for a while, his thumb swiping softly back and forth over your upper arm, the sleeve of your top shifting slightly with the motion. 

“What if…” You gnaw the inside of your cheek. Remus waits. “What if everyone thinks that?” 

“Mm. Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t think most people would. Surely not anyone who knows you, or anyone worth being around.” He takes a breath, thinking. “You can’t always control what people think. I know you say I’m biased, but anyone who thinks something like that really isn’t worth thinking about at all. You’ve got enough going through that head of yours, yeah?” He kisses your hair fondly. 

“I guess so,” you admit. 

“Yeah,” Remus decides. He pulls away to see your face, pushing hair away from your tacky cheeks. “I’d say so.” 

You wonder if you look as horrendously in love as you feel. You think you must, because your boyfriend’s expression softens impossibly further as he turns his head to give you a proper kiss. You feel raw but comforted, and suddenly, totally exhausted. 

“Let the bullies worry about themselves.” Remus gives you a tender look. “I’ll worry about you.” 

You let a small smile tilt your lips. “And what am I left to worry about?” 

“Nothing,” he says solemnly. “Think you can manage that?” 

“Nope.” 

“Mm. Well, try.” 

[ofbatsandballads]

please take this. I made myself cry writing it and I have nothing to say except that putting ya’aburnee and darling by halsey on my jason playlist was a brutal choice. also look up flower language if you want additional feelings.

There’s so many things you want for Jason Todd.

You want him to get a good night’s sleep for once. You let him close his pretty seafoam eyes and lay his head in the crook of your neck as you scratch gently at his scalp. It always calms him down, grounds him in the here and now. Your arms around him, your fingers carding through his hair, the rise and fall of your chest that’s synced with his–it all reminds him that he’s safe, that he’s home. You want that feeling to follow him into his dreams, to let him find true rest. So when his body goes tense and his breathing gets labored, you hold him closer and hum gently into his ear until whatever haunts him in his sleep is chased away by the comfort you bring.

You want to make sure he’s protected. You wish you could deflect every hit, blade, and bullet away from his body. You wish he would see his body as something worth protecting. He would stop if you asked, would settle into a normal life as best as he could. You would never ask because to do so would be to deny the part of him you love most: his heart that beats to help others. So you protect him in the ways that you can. You stitch cuts and treat burns, you mend his jackets and help clean his guns. More than anything, you guard his peace of mind like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. You’re never cruel to him, never scream vicious words or toss him out into the cold night. You call Bruce and thank him for the first edition Jane Austen novels that arrived on your doorstep on August 16th when Jason just…can’t. You let him grip your hand brutally tight under the table when you go to the manor for Thanksgiving for the first time. And when it gets really bad? When he feels the burning of green waters that breathed life into him that he didn’t want, when hideous laughter echoes in a place it’s never been? You do something no one has ever done for him. You wait. You stay. You stay by his side until he can breathe again, until dawn breaks and he can see the light again. And always, always you, haloed in it like an angel he doesn’t think he deserves. He does.

You want him to have a good cup of hot chocolate. He told you about it once when he came home after a long winter patrol. Half delirious from exhaustion, he reminisced about how Bruce would make them both a cup of hot chocolate after particularly rough or successful patrols in December. How this specific hot chocolate had no equal—even Alfred couldn’t replicate the richness and warmth. You noticed the fondness in his voice, the longing so intense that it still makes your heart ache for him. So you do some light stalking and hunt down Tim Drake, demand that he give you the information you want or else you’ll disclose how he really lost his spleen to Bruce (why he was dense enough to tell Jason, you’ll never know). And that is how Bruce Wayne, billionaire philanthropist single father and the Batman, receives an email with the subject line “URGENT: Recipe Request” that reads as follows:

To whom it may concern,

I have been made aware that you have a remarkably compelling hot chocolate recipe that is hitherto unparalleled by cafes, franchises, and butlers alike. I am emailing you to inquire about my being sent this recipe post-haste. This is less a request than a demand. I will do my best to ensure that you, at some point in time not specified (it will take great effort on my part), are able to witness the consumption of the hot chocolate by the individual that will be receiving the product of the recipe.

Best regards,

Someone who loves your son.

Bruce sends the recipe the second he receives the email. He has to sneak his phone under the conference table at the Wayne Enterprises board meeting to do it, but he still manages to reply in two minutes and forty-seven seconds. And you make good on your promise. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jason shine as brightly as he does that Christmas, lit up by the lights on the twelve foot tree as he sips his hot chocolate from the same red mug that’s been sitting in the kitchen cabinet since he last drank from it. The matching black mug is clasped in the hands of the hot chocolate connoisseur himself, who smiles softly like the magic of the season has returned to his life for the first time in ages.

You want him to heal. It’s a big ask; you know that. But you’ve never been one for giving up hope, and if anyone can manage to achieve the impossible, it’s Jason. So you tell him it’s a great idea when he jokes about getting a therapist. You wait for him in the car the first time he goes and you let him open up to you in his own time when he comes out of the appointment body tight as a bowstring and eyes bloodshot. You watch quietly and celebrate the little victories you see him win. He can call his father first now; he doesn’t do it often, but he can. He can talk to his younger brother without hating his hands and the blood that’s been spilled on them, without going out on patrol and intentionally letting all the worst hits make contact. He can go out to lunch with his older brother and his youngest, can laugh with them over that ridiculous thing Bruce did at a gala once to make them all laugh. He can bear his birthday a little bit better now, can accept the cake you bake and actually make a wish when he blows out the candles. But you’ll never know about the moment that you start to get what you want. Jason goes to visit his own grave on the anniversary of his death and finds a bouquet of red carnations, baby’s breath, and honeysuckle with a note in your handwriting that reads “Someone told me once that you were magic, that that was the best thing about you. I think it’s far more important that you were loved. I don’t know what you could’ve been. I don’t wonder about it like those that loved you did because all I know is who you became. He’s wonderful. He’s still magic. I think you’d be proud of him. I’ll do my best to take care of him for you.” He sits there for an hour in tears. Then he takes one bud of each flower and the note, goes home and presses them into the pages of his favorite book. He holds you in his arms in bed that night and feels, for the first time in a long time, a sense of peace down to his very bones.

You want—above all else—Jason Todd to feel loved. You want him to feel so cherished and wanted that he cannot possibly look at himself without realizing that he is something precious, something beloved. So you tell him that you love him and you accept his warm embrace as his way of saying it back. You make him chocolate chip cookies and sneak one into the pocket of his tactical pants when he goes on patrol (they’re soft, they don’t get crunched when he’s thrown from a roof). You read his favorite books to understand what he’s saying when he goes off on tangents about class and social hierarchy and how they governed life in the 19th century. You trace his scars and kiss away his tears when he can’t believe that he could be transformed from a being marred by brutality into a man revered with gentleness. You will love him until the day you both die. You will love him in death, until whatever atoms made up you and him come together again. You will love him until everything that ever is or ever was ceases to be in a supernova of light. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll love him in whatever is born after.

[stvrnioloslvt]

❛❛ ⛸️ + 🏒 ❞

fuck you, christopher sturniolo

✎ t.w.: sexual tension!

you sighed, throwing your books in your bag. what was the point of studying until you felt physically nauseous if the maximum you could get was always a C?

you didn't understand: you did everything you could think of to memorise and understand the stuff you had to study for your exams, yet it wasn't enough. it never was.

"hey! how..." your roommate turned to face you with a big smile on her face, holding proudly her exam sheet with a big red A written on top of it. her smile faded as soon as she saw your disappointed expression, her eyes falling to the piece of paper you had abandoned carelessly on your desk. "oh, baby..." she cooes, her hand rubbing comfortingly your arm. "it's fine, next time it'll go better, yeah?"

you shake your head, the weight of disappointment sitting heavily on your stomach. you sighed before saying, "i need to get some air. i'll see you at the rink, yeah?"

cherry sighed, but she nodded nevertheless. she whispered a soft "okay," then let go of your arm as you got up and left the room.

the halls were, as always, crowded as fuck. normally it wouldn't bother you one bit, but today...yeah, today you were pissed, to say the least. you just couldn't help it, negativity radiating from every cell of your body.

your original plan of going outside to cool your brain quickly changed, your feet bringing you elsewhere, completely out of your jurisdiction. and before you knew it, you stood at the perimeter of the ice rink, watching as a bunch of hockey players glided left and right across the arena.

your eyes caught the jersey of a man sliding right in front of you, the name "STURNIOLO", the number 3 standing proudly below it.

"yo, ice baby" chris took off his helmet right as the coach blew in the whistle, signaling the end of the practice. your friend shook his head left and right, droplets of sweat flying around. you mentally thanked the presence of the thick plastic walls between you two. chris got out of the rink, stomping his feet to reach you without losing balance.

he sat on the bench near you, putting the helmet down. "so? what are you doing here? you don't have lesson for another hour and a half."

you shrugged, sitting down beside him. "just had to get some fresh air."

chris eyed you, analyzing your face. he clearly didn't buy your lie, and he was determined to find out what was going on in your mind. "yeah, no kid, spill the truth or something cause i'm not buying your bullshit."

you groaned annoyed, well aware that he wasn't going to let it go until he had an answer. sighing, you got up, walking back and forth while explaining to him how frustrated you were at yourself cause no matter how hard you studied, nothing seemed to work and you felt like you were just loosing time.

chris didn't speak, letting you ramble on and on about your problem, eventually nodding to signal that he was, in fact, listening. you took a big breath once you finished talking, feeling definitely better. maybe cherry was right when she told you that speaking does, indeed, help.

"you do know that matt took the same exam, right?"

taken aback by his question, you didn't answer him: did he? he probably took it the year before, cause there was no way you never noticed him. you shook your head, sitting down in front of your friend.

he hummed, shrugging before casually saying "he did. passed with a straight A, maybe he can help you."

"i..."

"it's fine, really. i'll talk to him at dinner, yeah? don't worry, baby, you're gonna ace it." and just like that, he got up from the bench, grabbing his helmet before ruffling your hair and heading outside.

"hey! aren't you gonna shower or something?" you called out, watching confused as chris turned around briefly, exclaiming "water's out!" before closing the door behind him.

you furrowed your brows, clearly not expecting it. you decided to check for yourself, walking towards the door that lead to the locker room.

as you entered the room, you didn't notice the lonely gym bag hiding behind the door, its content spilling from the open zipper. you kept walking towards the showers, wanting to check the water pressure from one of the sinks there.

as you opened the door, steam engulfed you whole, blocking your view. from one of the open showers emerged matt, wrapped in a white towel. you stood frozen at the door, not knowing what to do, but with one thought in mind: fuck you, christopher sturniolo.

right as you turned around to run away from there, matt's eyes caught yours, freezing you on the spot. you couldn't help but admire the way drops of water dripped from his long hair, falling on his face and neck, running down to his exposed torso. and god, was he well sculpted. your mouth dried at the sight, your heart drumming in your ribcage. your hands itched with the want–no, the need– to touch him, to explore his body with your fingers, drawing every crevice and dip and curve of his abs.

"jesus," you whispered softly, almost inaudible, catching yourself in the act and hoping he didn't hear anything. luckily for you, he didn't. and if he did, he acted like he didn't.

he cleared his throat, smirking as your eyes snapped back to his face. "anything you like, baby?" he asked, stepping closer to you to grab another smaller towel he had placed on the sink earlier. he ran said towel through his hair, trying to absorbe as much water as possible, all while not breaking eye contact. for the first time, you asked yourself if he called you by your name or if he meant it as a pet name. either way, you didn't like how much it affected you.

"i- i'm sorry i didn't know you were here," you stuttered embarrassed, trying to regain some decency back.

he bit back a smile, genuinely amused by the situation. "clearly," he murmured, watching you struggle to not let your eyes fall back on his body. he decided to pull a little trick on you, glancing down quickly at his body knowing that the immediate reaction he would get would be a mirror of his own act. and, indeed, your eyes travelled down his body instinctively, a natural reflex of your own body betraying you. 

you mentally cursed yourself, realising too late what had just happened. however, you couldn’t help but stare, noticing only now the tent hiding beneath his towel. you didn’t know if it was the steam, matt’s presence or your own arousal, but your mind began fogging like crazy, leaving you dizzy and unstable on your legs. matt took a couple steps towards you, your feet moving backwards until your back hit the cold tile wall of the shower room, effectively trapping you.

you could feel the heat radiating from his body clouding your senses, turning your brain in mush.  

“matt-” you gasped, his blue eyes burning holes into your skin from the intensity of his gaze. he slowly raised his hand, caressing so delicately your cheek the same way you would touch a ceramic doll, delicate and careful in fear it might break. you closed your eyes at the contact, so delicate and warm yet so wrong and rushed. you swallowed hard before managing to croak out a soft “what are you…”

at the sound of your voice matt seemed to snap back to reality, his hand dropping by his side. the bubble of tension suddenly bursted, bringing you both back to reality, cold chills running through your arms. “shit, i-” he sighed, running a hand on his face, “you should probably go.”

you stood there paralyzed for a couple more seconds, watching as he turned around and walked away. you nodded slowly to no one in particular before running through the door, leaving the locker room. as soon as the chilled air of the halls hit your face you started breathing again, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

and as you walked towards your room, only one image crossed your mind, repeating on loop: matt sturniolo half naked in front of you, aching to touch you.

© stvrnioloslvt

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃/𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊. 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ��𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓

ও a.n: hi guys, i'm so sorry i haven't posted in a while, i have a shit ton of exams to take and way too little time to write :(

ও anyway, hope you liked the little sexual tension between those two, i sure has hell had fun writing it! as always, you're more than welcome in my comments/inbox to ask questions, requests, etc.

ও also... look how cute this little thing is! it's a fennec fox, and i feel like it embodies 100% baby's personality, cute as fuck but also wild and not too keen on physical contact. in love with it, honestly.

love you all, bree ☾

icy taglist: @shadowthesim @sturnioloszn @sofieeeeex @m4ttg1rl @marrykisskilled @thecrawlys @x0x0bunny @izzylovesmatt @sturniolosweets @sturnslutz @user1smvtysturniolo @gabrielaperez11

[alotofpockets]

Fun facts | Grace Clinton x Reader

5k celebration prompt: “Do you ever run out of fun facts?”

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.4k

-----

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. For the past hour you had been debating your outfit, switching between a top every five minutes. But, the knock on your door meant that Grace was here to pick you up for your first date, so the top you were currently wearing had to be the one.

You quickly make your way to the door, not wanting to leave her waiting for too long. When you opened it, Grace’s face lit up. “You look amazing.” You feel your cheeks flushing, already by even such a small compliment. “Thank you, so do you.”

Grace moved into your apartment building a few weeks ago. The thick Liverpool accent had caught your attention instantly when you were making your way downstairs. None of the neighbours that you knew had that accent, so your curiosity was instantly triggered.

What you hadn’t expected to find around the corner was the contents of a moving box scattered over the hallway floor. “A single cardboard box can be reused 5 to 7 times before it starts to break down and lose its strength, yet here I am on my first use with my stuff scattered all across the hall.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the unexpected commentary as you stepped around the corner. “I think you might’ve gotten the one box that has a vendetta against moving. Clearly it wasn’t cut out for this life.”

The girl looked up, startled but amused. “Ah, so it is the box’s fault, is it? Not my fault for not using proper packing rules, and putting more weight in it than you’re supposed to?”

Within ten seconds of meeting this stranger, you already loved her humour. You crouched down to help her pick up the scattered items. “I mean, who am I to argue with a moving box expert?”

She laughed at your joke, the sound of her laughter like music to your ears. Never had you imagined you’d be able to fall for a stranger so quickly. The way she so effortlessly joked around with you, made you want to get to know her better.

“Oh, I’m full of fascinating facts about boxes, and well just random facts in general. Stick around long enough, and you’ll learn loads!” She stood with her hands now filled with her items.

“Well, if this is how you introduce yourself to your new neighbours, I am definitely interested in sticking around for more. I’m y/n, by the way. Your neighbour who now knows more about moving boxes than she ever planned to.”

The girl chuckled. “Grace, the neighbour who might’ve just exposed her weirdest talent way too early.” With a smile and a shake of your head you say, “I think it’s cute.” You noticed the light flush of her cheeks before she quickly turned her face away from you. “What floor are you on? I’ll help carry your stuff up.”

Since that day the two of you have been chatting every day, whether it was face to face or over text, the two of you were connecting. It was instantly clear to the both of you that it wasn’t just a neighbourly or even just friendly connection, and you wanted to explore it more. 

So, Grace asked you out on a date and now here she is standing in front of your door. All your nerves faded away as you walked down together, and she started talking.

“Did you know that dates involving outdoor activities create stronger connections?” If you had learned one thing over the past few weeks is that Grace had a fun fact on just about every topic. “I didn’t, but it makes sense if you think about it.”

She agreed, “It’s why I wanted to grab some coffee to go and walk through the park on our way to what I have planned.”

“That sounds lovely, and also very adorable, telling me you want to have a stronger connection with me.” You smiled at her as you walked out of the apartment building.

Grace paid for your coffee, even if you told her that wasn’t fair because she was already paying for the rest of the date. “You can get them next time.”

“Oh, you already know that there will be a next time?” You said with an amused smile. “Around 66% of people say that they know within the first thirty minutes if they’re interested in a second date.”

You chuckled, of course she had a fun fact for that too. “Thirty minutes sounds doable for getting the vibe of a person, but Grace we’ve been out for like five minutes.” She smiles and shrugs, “I already knew before I knocked on your door.”

Gosh she was a smooth talker. “I think I may need the remaining twenty five minutes to decide.” You joked back, and the glint in her eyes was enough to make you cave in. “Fine, you got me. I was already thinking of what I could plan for our next date before you knocked on my door as well.”

You continued on your walk, sipping on your coffee, and talking with Grace. If you had only done this for the duration of the date, you would already have considered it a good date. Grace had more planned though, as she led you into town and you stopped in front of one of the buildings.

“Are we going to make pottery?” You asked as you took in the shop’s window. “Close, but no. We’re painting pottery.” Her smile grew when she saw the excitement on your face.

Once you were inside and you were all settled in at one of the tables, surrounded by a bunch of different pottery dishes, paints and brushes, Grace started speaking excitedly about pottery. “Did you know that pottery is one of the oldest human inventions, with the earliest known pieces dating back over 20,000 years?”

With a shake of your head you say, “Wow, that is so long. Isn’t it cool how some things stick around for so long?” She nodded, “Yeah, I love it.”

You decided on a mug for your first pottery piece, while Grace went for a bowl. You thought for a moment on what you wanted to paint on the mug, deciding on some tulips. After dipping your paint brush into the green paint, you fill the mug with the stems and leaves, leaving room to add the flowers in different colours.

“Did you know in the 17th century, tulips were so valuable in Holland that they were used as a currency?” At this point you weren’t even surprised by Grace’s random knowledge on all topics anymore. “That’s crazy, imagine getting coffee somewhere and just paying with tulips.”

“Yeah, it’s so weird to think about, right? They even named the period Tulip Mania.” With the new knowledge about tulips, you fill the already painted stems with red, orange, and pink tulip flowers. 

When you looked over to Grace’s bowl, she had filled the outside with small watermelon pieces, and she was now working on painting the inside of the bowl like the inside of a watermelon. 

“Yours looks so cool!” You say in awe. “Thank you! I love it, and yours too. Did you know that watermelons belong to the cucumber family? Technically they are classified as both a fruit and a vegetable!”

“Do you ever run out of fun facts?” You say with a soft chuckle. Amazed at her excitement over the classification of a watermelon.

“Oh, is it too much? I can stop.” She says taken back. You’re quick to reach out your hand and place it over hers. “Please never stop, I love it.” Her smile grew again. “Yeah?” You nod, “It’s so cool that you have all this random knowledge, and I love that you want to share it with me.”

The rest of the date was amazing, and like you had already said at the beginning of the date, a second date was definitely happening, and you couldn’t wait to plan something for her.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[missarchive]

can i ask for sleepy smutty gentle soft spencer x reader blurb/oneshot? i just *know* in the mornings he can be such a soft boy

sleepy spencer is something i will never get tired of writing, thank you for your request, anon <3

cw; +18 minors dni, very gentle and sappy, they're so so in love, protected p in v, fingering, fade to black, aftercare mentioned but not entirely described

You blink your eyes open, greeted by the faint warmth of sunlight spilling through the barely parted curtains. The room is dim, softer than usual, and your drowsy mind registers the cozy intimacy of the moment. Then you feel it—a gentle weight pressed against your side.

Spencer is nestled against you, hands brushing faintly against your skin as he sleeps. You can’t help but watch him for a while, captivated by how peaceful he looks. His messy, dark hair fans across the pillow, and his slightly parted lips twitch as if caught in a dream.

Your hand moves instinctively, tracing the curve of his back. His skin is impossibly soft, like silk under your fingertips, and he stirs at your touch. A small sound escapes his lips—something unintelligible but endearing. He shifts closer, his body moulding to yours as if seeking you, even in sleep.

Your heart races as the warmth of his skin meets yours. There’s a quiet intimacy in the way he fits so perfectly against you, and the faint scent of his shampoo lingers, mingling with something so distinctly him. You let your fingers glide along his side, tracing the gentle rise and fall of his ribs. The motion stirs him further; his breathing deepens, and you can feel the faint tremor of his body as he begins to wake.

You trail your hand over his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your palm. The moment feels electric, the tension building as his eyes flutter open, softened by sleep and something you dare to think is affection. His gaze locks onto yours, pupils dilating as a lazy smile spreads across his face.

"Good morning," he murmurs, his voice raspy and low, still thick with sleep.

Before you can reply, he closes the distance between you, his lips brushing yours in a slow, tender kiss. They’re warm and soft, moving against yours with a languid ease that makes your heart pound. You can’t resist tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between you.

The kiss deepens, your tongues meeting in a slow, deliberate dance that sends a shiver through your body. Spencer responds with a quiet moan that vibrates against your lips, and the sound sets your pulse racing. His growing arousal presses against you, a subtle but insistent reminder of how close you both are.

He pulls back just enough to catch his breath, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes meet yours again, and there’s a question there, unspoken but clear.

He whispers again, his voice softer this time. "Sleep well?"

The tenderness in his tone makes you smile, and you nod, brushing your fingers against his cheek. "Yeah, mhm, really well," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Relieved, he leans in to kiss you again, this time with more urgency. His tongue meets yours, teasing and tasting as your hands explore his body. Every touch, every kiss feels like a promise—a reminder of the connection you share.

When he pulls back once more, his lips curve into a soft smile. "I love you," he says, the words gentle yet filled with conviction.

Your chest tightens at the sincerity in his voice. You run your fingers through his tousled hair, letting them linger there as you smile back. "I love you, too," you say, meaning every word.

He kisses you again, this time with a passion that takes your breath away. His lips trail down your jaw, then your neck, each kiss leaving a burning imprint on your skin. You arch into him, every nerve in your body alight with anticipation as his hands begin their own exploration.

Spencer’s touch is slow, deliberate, as though he wants to memorize every inch of you. His lips and hands are everywhere—your face, your neck, your sides. The intimacy of the moment is almost overwhelming, and you feel like you might burst if he doesn’t take you fully into his arms soon.

You whisper his name, and the sound seems to ignite something in him. He looks at you with those eyes, his expression a mix of adoration and desire. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice a promise.

Your fingers weave through Spencer’s dark hair, tangling gently as they trail down the smooth expanse of his back. He’s still kissing you, his lips moving with a fervor that sends shivers through your entire body. Each press of his mouth, each graze of his tongue against yours, sets your pulse racing. It’s almost too much—almost. The tension coils tightly within you, and you feel like you might shatter if he doesn’t give you more.

Breaking the kiss, you cup his face and tilt his head so his eyes meet yours. "Spencer," you murmur, your voice breathless and raw, "I want you."

His eyes darken, the soft hunger in them deepening into something primal. Desire mingles with tenderness as he gazes at you, his lips parting slightly as though he’s about to say something—but instead, he lets his actions speak.

Lowering himself, Spencer begins a trail of kisses down your neck and chest, slow and deliberate, as though savoring every inch of your skin. His hands work deftly to remove your shirt, baring you to him. His lips find your nipple, and the moment his tongue flicks against it, a gasp escapes you.

Your body arches instinctively, pressing closer to him. The heat of his mouth, the softness of his lips, and the gentle scrape of his teeth draw a moan from deep within you. He takes his time, lavishing attention on your chest, his hands exploring every curve and dip of your body.

When he finally pulls back, his lips glisten, and he looks up at you with a smile that’s equal parts wicked and affectionate. You return the smile, your fingers threading through his hair as if anchoring yourself to him.

Spencer shifts, rising back up to capture your mouth with his. His lips are warm and insistent, tasting faintly of your own skin, and the thought sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through you. Your hands trail down his back, your nails pressing lightly into his skin, eliciting a low groan from him that vibrates against your lips.

With practiced ease, he adjusts your bodies, positioning himself above you. His weight feels perfect against you. The tip of his cock presses firmly against your core through your thin layer of clothing, and without even thinking, your legs fall open, inviting him closer.

The contact draws a guttural sound from deep in his throat, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck. His lips resume their exploration, peppering kisses along your jaw and collarbone as his hips rock against yours. The friction is maddeningly good, and a whimper escapes you as your body instinctively moves to meet his.

The heat between you builds, his cock rubbing against your wetness through the barrier of clothing. The sensation is electric, each movement driving you closer to the edge. Spencer’s breath is hot against your ear as he groans, the sound raw and unrestrained.

“God, you feel incredible,” he whispers, his voice ragged with need.

He captures your mouth again in a kiss that feels like a promise, his tongue tangling with yours as he grinds against you. The pressure and heat are intoxicating, and your hips rise to meet his in perfect rhythm. Every movement, every touch, fans the flames between you, until nothing else exists but the two of you, lost in each other.

Spencer’s tongue moves languidly against yours, his kiss slow and unhurried. There’s no rush, no urgency—just the quiet intimacy of two bodies learning and savoring each other. The lingering sleepiness only adds to the sweetness of the moment, each kiss and touch steeped in tenderness and desire.

His low moan vibrates against your lips as his hips press against yours, his arousal a firm and thrilling presence. His hand finds yours, guiding it between your bodies. His voice is husky when he whispers, “Touch yourself f'me.”

You nod, your breath hitching as your fingers move to your clit. You begin to circle it slowly, matching the rhythm of his grinding hips. The combination of his hard length against you and the delicate pressure of your own touch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“That’s right, baby,” Spencer murmurs, his eyes dark and full of affection as they lock onto yours. “Make yourself feel good.”

He leans in to kiss you again, his lips soft and warm against yours. The connection feels electric, every brush of his tongue igniting a fresh wave of heat within you. Your arousal builds with each passing moment, your heartbeat pounding in your chest.

A moan escapes you as your fingers work against your clit, the sensation heightened by Spencer grinding against you. His cock is hot and firm, pressing insistently against your wetness. You feel the thrum of his pulse through the thin barrier between you, and it only pushes you closer to the edge.

Spencer shifts, settling between your legs with practiced ease. He brings his fingers to his lips, licking them with deliberate intent before trailing them down your body. His touch is slow and teasing as his fingers find your entrance, and when he finally pushes them inside, a gasp escapes you.

Your body clenches around him, the sensation sending a shiver through you. Spencer’s lips curl into a soft, knowing smile. “You’re so fucking tight, baby,” he whispers, his voice thick with need.

His fingers move with an unhurried precision, stroking you from the inside as his other hand finds your clit. The combination of sensations is overwhelming, and you arch into his touch, a broken moan falling from your lips.

“So warm,” he murmurs, his gaze locked on yours.

You bite your lip, nodding in response as your hips begin to move, riding the rhythm of his hand. The heat between you builds as he leans down to kiss you, his breath heavy against your mouth.

“Please, Spencer,” you whisper, your voice trembling with desperation. Your hand reaches for him, wrapping around his cock.

You meet his gaze, those soft, sleepy eyes filled with hunger and longing. “I want you inside me,” you say, the words carrying all the need coursing through you.

His lips quirk into a small, tender smile as he kisses you deeply. His hands move with purpose, slipping away just long enough to shed his clothes. The sound of fabric hitting the floor mingles with the quickening rhythm of your breath.

Spencer pauses for a moment, his eyes roaming over you with a mix of reverence and desire. Then he positions himself between your legs, gently lifting and spreading them. His hands are steady, but his gaze is heated, as if savouring every second before giving you what you’ve both been craving.

Spencer tears open the condom packet, rolling it on with practiced ease. Then, with a deliberate slowness that makes your breath catch, he guides the head of his cock to your entrance. The sensation of his tip brushing against you sends a shiver down your spine, and you let out a soft moan.

He pauses, his eyes searching yours. “Ready, baby?” he asks, his voice low and tender.

You nod, biting your lip as anticipation coils tightly within you. “Yes,” you whisper.

Spencer leans down to kiss you, his lips capturing yours. As his hips press forward, he pushes inside, inch by inch, until he’s fully sheathed within you. For a moment, neither of you moves, savouring the feeling of being so intimately connected.

You open your eyes to find his closed, his brow furrowed in concentration as he adjusts to the warmth of you. Unable to resist, you trace your finger across his face, brushing against his cheek. His eyes flutter open, meeting yours with a soft, almost shy smile.

“Hi,” he whispers, the corners of his mouth curling upward.

“Hi, pretty boy,” you reply, your voice laced with affection.

He leans down to kiss you again, his hips beginning to move in a slow, steady rhythm. Each thrust is deliberate, his cock sliding in and out with a pace that makes every nerve in your body light up.

A low moan escapes him, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. “You feel amazing,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

His lips trail down your neck, leaving a path of heat in their wake. His thrusts deepen, his body fitting perfectly against yours as if you were made for each other. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, pulling him closer, holding him tighter.

“Spencer,” you moan, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer.

He slows his movements, his gaze meeting yours. “Yes?” he asks, his smile both teasing and adoring.

His hips roll into you again, the motion making you gasp. “What do you want, baby?” he asks, his voice a mixture of tenderness and need. “I’ll do anything.”

His hand brushes your hair away from your face, his eyes soft and full of affection. “Tell me,” he continues, his fingers tracing lazy patterns down your side. “Just want to make you feel good.”

The emotion in his voice sends warmth flooding through you, a reminder of how deeply he cares—not just for your pleasure, but for you. For a moment, you’re lost in his gaze, savoring the steady rhythm of his body moving against yours, the way he fills you so completely.

Your lips curve into a small smile, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “You’re already making me feel good,” you whisper.

His expression softens, his eyes glimmering with something unspoken but deeply felt. He leans down to kiss you, his lips gentle yet firm against yours, conveying everything words can’t.

His hips continue their steady rhythm, each thrust sending ripples of pleasure through you. The feeling intensifies with every movement, each one drawing you closer to the edge. Your moans mingle with his, creating a harmony of shared ecstasy.

Spencer presses his forehead to yours again, his breath mingling with yours as his thrusts grow slightly deeper, each one punctuated by his quiet, unrestrained groans. His lips find yours once more, his movements and kisses merging into an intoxicating rhythm that makes the rest of the world disappear.

Spencer pulls back slightly, his sleepy, soft eyes locking onto yours. A tender smile graces his lips as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with emotion. He leans in for another kiss, the warmth of his lips grounding you in the intimacy of the moment.

Your mouths move together in a languid rhythm, his hips keeping pace as he continues to thrust into you. The warmth of his cock inside you and the gentle caress of his tongue against yours send waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You moan into his mouth, your hands clutching at his back, pulling him closer.

Spencer smiles against your lips, the curve of his mouth soft and full of adoration. “So, so beautiful," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. His kisses trail from your lips to your cheek and down your neck, each press of his lips igniting sparks of pleasure. He pauses to breathe against the sensitive skin of your neck, the warmth making you shiver as his cock grinds deeper, pressing deliciously against your clit.

Your eyes flutter shut, the tension coiling tightly in your core. Every slow, purposeful movement of his body against yours pushes you closer to the edge, your moans growing louder as the pleasure becomes overwhelming.

“Spencer,” you gasp, your voice trembling. “I’m going to...”

He stiffens slightly above you, his gaze locking onto yours. His voice is low and full of need as he responds, “Cum with me, baby.”

You nod, your fingers digging into his shoulders as the tension snaps. Your orgasm tears through you, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. You cry out, your walls clenching tightly around him, drawing a deep moan from his lips.

Spencer’s movements grow erratic as he chases his release, his cock thrusting deep inside you. With a guttural groan, he cums, his body trembling as he fills the condom. His head drops to your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin as he rides out the last shudders of pleasure.

“Baby,” he moans, his voice soft and full of awe. His body presses against yours, his weight grounding you as you both come down from the high.

You let out a soft cry as the aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through you, your body still sensitive and buzzing with pleasure. Your legs fall limply to the sides, and you look up at Spencer with sleepy, satisfied eyes.

He collapses gently against you, his chest rising and falling as he struggles to catch his breath. His softening cock remains inside you for a moment before he carefully pulls out, leaving you feeling both empty and content.

Your hands find their way to his hair, your fingers tangling in the dark strands as he peppers gentle kisses along your collarbone and shoulder.

Spencer presses a kiss to your forehead before getting up to clean himself. You follow his lead, your bodies still humming with the echoes of your shared pleasure.

Once clean, you both return to the bed, slipping under the covers and curling up together. Spencer’s arms wrap securely around you, his hand lazily brushing through your hair as his lips find your temple.

“I love you,” he whispers, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

You smile, your eyes closing as you nestle closer to him. “I love you, too.”

With Spencer’s arms holding you tight and his heartbeat steady against your ear, sleep comes easily. You drift off, feeling safe, loved, and utterly content in the embrace of the man you adore.

[keepingitformyself]

older (and wiser): i

synopsis: in which time could have never undone what she left.

A/N: FIRST WANDA FIC!!! had this idea long ago when i was crushing hard on this girl from the theatre program at my uni; around that time i had also seen ‘past lives’ and i wanted to do something similar with that film. also at my core i know wanda maximoff would’ve totally been a theatre kid, this is me paying ode to that. while this specific part doesn’t go into that, i am gonna work on a sort of prequel to this Short Series…anyways enjoy!!!

pairings: wanda maximoff x reader

genre: angst?

warnings: it’s sad. but it gets hopeful…

MASTERLIST

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

it had been years.

wanda had finally decided to take a breather. she’d been working non-stop ever since she left for work all those years ago after college.

she didn’t think she’d get so lucky off that one job, that it’d immediately get her into another, or another, and so on and so forth.

she loved her work, sure, but now it was catching up to her. everyone in her life, her manager, her agent, her family had all begged her to slow down.

“take some time off, wanda.” her agent, daniel had said to her during a meeting. wanda’s eyes traveled between daniel and her manager, samara.

the meeting had all been a set up. what wanda thought was supposed to be a discussion on a new project, was actually a ploy. she had no idea the meeting was meant to convince her to take a break.

“yeah right.” she scoffed. not believing in what they were saying.

“we’re serious, wanda.” samara stated, her eyes stern but with genuine care. “when was the last time you had time for yourself?”

wanda remained silent at the words. all of a sudden she felt like a kid being scolded by their parents. and she wished to be anywhere else but in the room with them.

“really.” daniel starts. “go be a real person. smell the flowers, meet people, fall in love, take in the view—”

“i meet people all the time, daniel.” wanda quickly cut in.

all daniel could do was shake his head, a sigh escaping his lips as he tried his hardest to make the woman in front of him understand.

“you know that’s not what i meant, wanda.” he gives her a pointed look.

with a jaw clenched, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked off to the side. the windows overlooking los angeles now seeming more interesting than this conversation.

“we know how much it means for you to work, we know how much you enjoy it, but you’ve been doing it for so long. we just want you at your best.” she hears samara say. and as much as she hated to admit it, daniel and samara were right.

wanda hadn’t stopped working since she started. in fact, it’s all she can think to do. she didn’t have anyone outside of work—no partner, no obligations except to her family. why stop when there was nothing waiting for her?

wanda knew the answer but wouldn’t admit it. she might as well never have fully faced it.

the truth was, she’d loved someone once. she’d loved you. and no matter how much time had passed, the thought of you still gnawed at her.

though everything was perfect for a while, her career was well off, she was successful, and her family was proud.

but wanda couldn’t help asking, is this really it?

of course, she tried meeting people. she really tried. she didn't like being miserable over someone she hadn't been in contact with for years. but even that wasn't enough. it was honestly a bit pathetic. it had happened years ago. four years, to be exact. wanda should’ve been well moved on by now, but she isn’t. at least not entirely.

so, she poured everything into her work to distract her from that gnawing feeling inside her. the one that had been lit up all those years ago. the one that was tamable with you around.

but you’re not around, and wanda couldn’t help but throw herself into more work hoping she could get rid of it, get rid of you. but she hasn’t.

“listen, wanda,” daniel cuts her train of thought. “your work is important and people need it, but to keep it up to that degree, you need to go out and just be a human.” he finishes.

wanda sighs. she leans forward on her knees and drops her head into her hands. daniel was right. they were both so right.

wanda never properly dealt with things. maybe it's time she finally did.

she looks up from her hands, a look of defeat yet understanding, with pursed lips she finally says,

"fine."

and now, two months later, wanda finds herself back in los angeles, in an empty home, eating expensive sushi.

she had gotten off the phone with her brother, pietro, who had just joined her on the recent trip she’d been on.

a trip that he insisted he’d join her on to make sure wanda would do all the resting and touristy things she should.

she had done all the traveling she could do in the last two months, jumping from plane to plane. talking to strangers, being a tourist in european cities, and befriending random people in planes.

now, wanda actually had time for herself, time with her brain. a thing she honestly didn't want to face. because even thinking about anything made it even more real.

but now wanda was bored, and the movie playing on her eighty-inch television wasn't doing much to entertain her. and it also didn't help that it was eleven pm on a thursday night and all wanda could do was feel bad for herself.

so she does the next thing she had been really trying to avoid,

stalking your social media.

wanda herself wasn’t much active online these days. she had much to do day-to-day and week-to-week, rarely would she ever have the patience to sit down and scroll through her phone much. that and she honestly tried to stay off of it.

but now she has the time. and the patience. and honestly, she’s a little scared at what she could find.

she tells herself it doesn't have to mean anything. just a little check-in to see how you were, after that she'd really work on trying to forget about you altogether.

and with the simple type in of your name, wanda finds your instagram. your profile picture, a professional headshot of you, and a bio that reads,

editor in chief.

New York Times contributor.

something that shouldn't have made wanda's chest burst with joy, but it does. and as she scrolls further and further, she finds that you now reside in new york city, that you've moved on well without her and that you have a cat and a boyfriend.

boyfriend.

she shouldn't care so much, but she does.

you were living your best life. the one you had always wanted.

just not with her. not with wanda.

but she doesn't stop there, and she ignores the lump in her throat as she exits your profile and searches for your mother's name.

and maybe she feels her heart break a little when it turns out the boyfriend you had is actually your fiancé. she finds out through a photo your mother posted.

the picture shows you, and a handsome man next to you. you’re both sat outside some restaurant in the city, his arm is thrown over your shoulder while your right hand clutches his left, and there it is. in all its glory—with the diamond on it catching the suns light perfectly. the ring on your finger.

it doesn’t help that he looks so in love with you.

out for lunch with y/n and paul again! i promised them an engagement lunch and we were NOT disappointed. make sure you try Jack’s Wife Freda if you are ever in SoHo!!#motherinlaw #NYC #loveinnewyork

is what the caption reads.

wanda freezes at the fact and immediately throws her phone on the empty seat beside her. she stares at it like it had just offended her.

many things go through her brain. how did you meet him? was it shortly after you broke up? was it really him you wanted to spend forever with? how long did it take for him to ask?

wanda had always loved your mother. a sweet woman who always had your best interests in mind. she had always pushed you to do what you loved. and wanda had always seen that some of her favorite traits of yours had come from her.

after the break up, your mom made sure to check in on wanda. without you ever knowing, wanda and your mom kept in touch, until eventually wanda had cut her line for the sake of fully moving on.

though, she never really fully did.

wanda evaluates what to do next. was this her sign? she doesn’t want it to be sign.

wanda doesn’t want to admit that it seems like you had moved on so completely.

on impulse she looks up your fiancé’s name. “paul” is all she had to type out in your mother’s following before she found his account.

she finds that paul is just as successful as you are. he’s an investigative journalist, born in ireland. he briefly worked at a publication in london but transferred to a firm in new york after a year.

he’s gorgeous, she thinks. he has blue eyes, a kind smile, and he has an accent. it would make perfectly good sense why you would choose him.

wanda’s stomach twists with a mix of happiness and regret.

“fuck!” She whispers to herself.

“of course, you’re happy. of course the man you’re engaged with is actually a decent man! fuck.” wanda says to no one in particular. in frustration, she burries her hands in her hair.

wanda is annoyed at herself.

“i need a drink,” in an instant she’s on her legs making her way to the kitchen. she finds a bottle of wine that has been kept cool in the fridge and she wastes no time in popping it open, she pauses briefly, debating on whether she’d need or glass or not.

to hell with a glass. she thinks, and makes her way back to the couch, she holds the bottle by its neck and takes a long swig from it.

it’s all so perfectly miserable. wanda maximoff stalking her ex-girlfriend on social media while she gets wasted. the self loathing has got the best of her. she finds it all ironic.

wanda maximoff could have anyone she wanted. she knew this. she has everything she could ever want or need. she has credibility, a nice home, the luxury of traveling at any moment she wants.

yet, her mind kept coming back to one thing. the one thing she’d decided she’d leave behind all those years ago. it isn’t fair, she thinks. wanda was young and stupid back then, but she was so so in love. she knew that for sure.

but sometimes…sometimes she really wishes she had fought harder.

briefly, wanda wonders if your number was still the same. if you had ever changed it or at least tried calling her. she wouldn’t know, she had changed it years ago once she started getting more attention for her work.

wanda was really drunk at this point. her better judgment had gone away as soon as she’d picked that bottle out the fridge. there was no better time than now.

she taps on her phone until she lands on the number keypad. her fingers hover over it, would she regret it if she didn’t? probably. would she regret it if she did? probably.

but if there was one thing wanda had, it’s that she’s got nerve and audacity.

so she types in the number that she doesn’t think she could ever forget, and lets it ring.

your fiancé answers the call.

“hello?” an irish accent sounds through the speaker. paul. wanda’s blood runs cold and she stays silent for a moment. all of sudden she feels incredibly sober and regretting making the call.

“hi.” she pauses. “uhm, i’m looking for y/n?” wanda manages to squeak out.

“right! who is this? your number isn’t saved.” paul says,

“an old friend. i changed my number a while back.” wanda replies smoothly.

“oh! let me pass her to you, she’s just in the kitchen.” the line goes quiet for a few moments, and she’s able to hear a few words exchanged between you and paul.

“hello?”

wanda freezes again, a hand covers her mouth as she tries not to shake at the sound of your voice. it’d been so long. she grips her phone tighter.

“hey…” her voice shaky and unmistakable. you know it’s wanda.

“wanda?” your voice betrayed the surprise you felt. from the couch paul caught your eye, a raised eyebrow on his face. everything okay? he mouthed.

you shook your head.

“i wondered if your number was still the same.” wanda says after a moment. her tone light, but with an undercurrent of something else.

your mind raced. why was she calling you? why now? your fiance was in the other room, you were getting married soon. you’d built a life perfectly fine without her in it. so why was she calling you now?

“how have you been?” her voice cuts through the line again. wanda holds the phone close to her ear, wanting to make sure she could hear every word you say.

and all you can think of is how confused you were.

“i- i’m fine. i’m good. yeah.”

“that’s good—”

“i’m sorry, uh…why are you calling?” you find yourself cutting her off. your fingers press against your forehead in act of trying to understand what was happening.

wanda pauses. she realizes just how impulsive this whole thing was. she’s on the phone with her ex of four years, while your fiancé was probably in the other room. she goes silent again. her words have to be carefully measured.

she gulps,

“uhm…i just—i just wanted to know how you were. heard you’re based in new york now...so…” wanda trails off. you don’t miss the tone in her voice as she says those words. the familiar rasp, the lowness of her voice, she’d used it many times on you when she wanted something.

you close your eyes with a sigh, “yeah. yeah, i live in new york now, engaged and everything.”

wanda smiles through the phone, her eyes almost prick with tears at the corners.

“i saw," she says just above a whisper. "congratulations, you…you’ve always wanted that.” and she means it. she knows better than anyone how much you’ve wanted this.

suddenly a wave of nostalgia hits you, and you’re brought back to when you were both in college. so young, so dumb, but god, it was one of the best times of your life. you try not to let it affect you, how much this call seems to be doing for you. you haven’t yet figured out if it’s a good or bad thing.

“thank you." your voice softens. "how have you been?” you find yourself asking her next.

wanda smiles at your question, “life has been…insane, you know?” she pauses on the line. “still missing some pieces, but overall i’m doing well,” you pretend not to hear the sudden shift in her voice when she said that.

you exhaled quietly, unsure of what to say. the air between you felt charged with unspoken words, old memories stirring to the surface.

“can i see you?” she asks, her tone hesitant. “catch up in person? i’d really like to see you.”

with your bottom lip between your teeth, you contemplate your next words. paul notices your tick from the other his seat on the couch, despite you telling him it was okay he couldn’t help but worry. he’d heard enough of the call to know something was wrong. still he knows you had it down, so he waits until you need him.

you struggle to find your words for a moment, the question being so…why?

“oh, wanda, i don’t know if—”

but wanda ever the stubborn woman she is, doesn’t relent.

“please. Just for some coffee and conversation.”

your mind is torn between keeping your peace or taking wanda up on her offer. but you were curious.

with a sigh you finally decide.

“where and when?”

you can hear wanda’s smile through the phone,

“i can fly to new york anytime you’re free. you can pick a spot and i’ll be there.”

you think for a few moments.

“okay, meet at caffe reggio in greenwich. i’ll be in touch with when.”

wanda’s heart stutters, something she hadn’t felt in a while. her eyes flutter closed, she breathes in— out. her eyes open again. and though you can’t see it, there’s a new look in her eyes.

“i’ll be there.”

[wonkizz]

to be or not to be: brat

jungwon x older!fmr genre: smut warnings: usage of noona, cunnilingus, fellatio, pretty vanilla smut (not great), begging, unprotected sex, cumming inside, fingering wc: 2.3k

Bratty pop stars weren't anything new to you. You’ve dealt with enough to know their type.

They party day and night to escape from the lives that they claim have plagued them.

You don’t fully understand because you’re not famous like them, but you understand the concept.

One minute you’re a regular person, the next you’re a star in the eyes of everyone.

You don’t blame them for acting out the way they do sometimes. You try to be understanding and listen to their frustrations, although you’re not a therapist and some of them definitely need that.

You’ve been assigned as a new manager for pop star Yang Jungwon.

He made his entrance to the entertainment industry 4 years ago and is just now having his “rebellious stage”.

Whatever, again, nothing new to you.

You’re meeting him for the first time today, anticipating the same as you always do.

Rude, closed off, not willing to talk.

So you can only be surprised as Yang Jungwon walks in, greeting you warmly.

“Hi, I’m Jungwon. It’s nice to meet you.”

You’re confused. Where’s the snide remarks? The cold exterior?

“It’s nice to meet you too, Jungwon.”

You both sit in the meeting about you being his new manager, but you’re barely paying attention.

You didn’t realize how attractive he is.

His features are strong but give off a unique softness.

His eyes are especially captivating.

They remind you of boba balls, funnily enough.

You’re soon tasked with driving Jungwon back to his apartment, as the meeting was his only schedule of the day.

The car ride is silent, until you break it with your curiosity.

“Not to be rude, but why aren’t you more…bratty?” You ask Jungwon who soon begins to giggle in his seat.

“The whole rebellious thing is just an act the company wanted to put me on to get attention.”

Oh, that would explain it.

“But you already have millions of fans, why the need for possible bad publicity?”

Jungwon shrugs, “I don’t know, to be honest. I just do what they tell me.”

“Well, you still probably struggle with this life sometimes, no?”

“I do! Like any other celebrity, I do. But I don’t see the point in acting out over it. It was my choice to become this and I have to own it.”

You smile, hoping he catches it, “That’s a very mature mindset to have, Jungwon.”

“Thank you, noona. Is it okay if I call you that?”

“Of course!” You nod, “I want you to be comfortable with me.”

“Can I be honest then?” Jungwon asks.

You nod, waiting.

“The reason you became my manager so suddenly is because.. I saw you at a party a few weeks ago and I thought you were pretty. I wanted to know who you were so I got my team involved.”

Your mind halts for a moment. He found you pretty?

Does he feel some type of way about you?

“I’m flattered, Jungwon. I haven’t heard that one before.”

“I’m sorry, you probably feel weirded out but I couldn’t help it.” Out of the corner of your eye, you swear he’s pouting, like he just got scolded.

“I’m not weirded out, Jungwon. Like I said, I’m flattered. I find you very handsome myself. When they said I’d be working with you, I got excited. Even though I thought you’d be a brat.”

That gets a chuckle out of him and you laugh along.

The conversation flows more easily after that.

When you reach the address that was put into your gps, you’re surprised to see your own complex come into view.

“You live here?” You ask incredulously, “There’s no way! I live here too.”

Jungwon looks just as amazed as you.

“That’s kinda convenient,” he says.

You park in the building's private garage before making your way to the elevator.

You’re both even more shocked when you reach for the same floor.

“Don’t tell me we’ve lived so close and never met?” Jungwon says.

“Maybe it’s fate,” you respond as he smiles at you.

When you reach Jungwon’s door, you point to your own door down the hall, “If you need me, you know where to find me.”

You wait until Jungwon is about to shut his door, when suddenly it opens again.

He looks almost shameful as he asks, “Do you wanna stay for dinner?”

You know you shouldn’t, he’s supposed to be your responsibility, but you can’t help yourself, “Sure.”

He lets you in, checking to make sure no one is present before closing the door.

His apartment is like the word cozy defined.

The furniture is minimal but not so little to feel empty.

It all matches with each other, quite fine taste if you say so yourself.

“I like it,” you praise, “it’s got a nice homey feel.”

You take your shoes off at the door as Jungwon offers you slippers.

“I actually don’t know what we’re having for dinner, I figured I would just take the chance and ask,” Jungwon says sheepishly, blushing.

You excuse him with a wave of your hand, “How about we just order out?”

“Sounds good,” he agrees.

You end up ordering Korean food, your favorites as well as Jungwon’s.

Once you’ve eaten and cleaned up, Jungwon suggests relaxing for a bit.

As you sit on his couch making quiet conversation, you think about the fact that you’ve never done this with other employers you’ve worked for.

Why is Jungwon the exception to that?

Is it because you’re attracted to him?

That’s so unprofessional, you know it is, but…is it that bad?

“What's going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Jungwon’s voice breaks your thoughts, snapping you out of your trance.

You don’t know what’s come over you, but you decide being bold is the way to go.

“I was thinking about you.”

He looks directly into your eyes, his own swarming with something you can’t pinpoint just yet.

“What about me?”

You laugh as you think about it, “I was expecting some angry, cold, closed off person. Yet I got warmth and kindness instead. It’s a nice change.”

“I was thinking about you too,” Jungwon says. “Thinking about how you’d sound, what you’d look like up close. How you’d greet me, what you’d think of me. Then I started thinking about other things once we met.”

“Like what?” You smile as you ask.

“Like what your voice would sound like when you’re moaning my name. Or what you’d feel like wrapped around me. I’m still thinking about it. I can’t stop and I know I shouldn’t but…”

As he trails off, the atmosphere instantly changes.

You would blush, if it weren’t for the fact that your mind was thinking the same things.

Slowly, you lift yourself onto your knees, making your way to where Jungwon sits.

His arms welcome you, wrapping around your waist as your lips slot against his.

Your hands make their way up, gripping the back of his neck as you sit right in his lap.

Lips moving ferociously, your tongues intersect.

You tug on the hair at the nape of his neck, making him groan.

His hands move down your waist, coming to grip your ass.

He kneads it, essentially grinding you back and forth over his lap.

You can feel his cock harden beneath his pants.

Pulling away, you stroke the sides of his face, smiling gently as he pants.

“You want me to make you feel good, Wonnie?”

“Please, noona. Need you so bad.”

You go down on your knees, rubbing Jungwon’s thighs as he waits in anticipation.

You unzip his jeans, pulling them down along with his underwear as he lifts his hips to help you.

His cock is too pretty for this world, at least in your eyes. The tip is shining with precum as you take the tip of your finger to rub it around, releasing even more.

Jungwon throws his head back, groaning pitifully.

You spit into your hand, lathering his cock with it, beginning to jerk him off.

“Please, noona, please.”

“What do you want?” You’re teasing him and he hates it, but he knows you won’t relent.

“Please suck my cock, noona. I’m begging.”

“Whatever my pretty boy wants.”

You take him in your mouth, slowly but surely.

Sucking the tip, you moan at the taste of his precum, becoming addicted to it almost immediately.

You begin to bob your head, taking him deeper until he hits the back of your throat.

He wants to grip your hair so badly, you can tell but he doesn’t want to hurt you. You take his hands, guiding them to your head as he gently grips your hair.

Jungwon uses his hands to gently guide you up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, noona. Feels so good.”

His moans and swears get louder as you continue. You swirl your tongue around his cock, focusing on the tip as his grip lightens, you use your hand to jerk what’s not in your mouth.

“I’m gonna cum, noona. Please let me cum,” Jungwon whines, bucking his hips, forcing you to take him deeper.

You slide him out of your mouth, continuing to jerk him off. “Cum in my mouth, Jungwon.”

Opening your mouth to present your tongue, Jungwon lets out a final huff, cumming in your mouth.

You swallow it eagerly and pump him through his orgasm.

His breathing is heavy as he calms down, but he’s not finished yet.

Jungwon pulls you up, pressing your lips together once more, tasting himself on your lips.

“Can we go to my room?” He asks.

You nod.

He takes your hand, leading you down the hall to his bedroom.

The door is open and unlike the living room, his bedroom is a bit more decorated. But not with furniture. He has figurines galore decorating his room.

You can’t help but find him even cuter than you did before.

Cute when he begs, and cute without even trying.

He lays you down on the bed gently, like you’re fragile and going to break.

“Can I please you, noona?”

“You can do whatever you want to me, Jungwon.”

He takes your words as a chance to discard your clothing as well as his own.

Your naked body is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He begins littering kisses across your neck and chest, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it while playing with the other.

He swirled his tongue around it until it hardened, then nipped at it, making you moan in delight.

Your hands find his blonde hair, gripping it tightly between your fingers.

He gives attention to the other nipple, doing the same as before, then leading his kisses down your stomach to your cunt.

“You’re soaking wet, noona. All for me?”

It’s his turn to tease you, but you don’t give into it.

“All for you, Won. Are you gonna please me?”

“Yes, noona.”

With that, he dives into your cunt. He licks through your lips, collecting your arousal on his tongue before swallowing it enthusiastically.

He brings his attention to your clit, nipping and sucking at the bud, making you jerk and moan.

As he swirls his tongue around it, a finger makes its way to your hole, entering you hesitantly.

You sigh at the feeling. It’s been a while since you had time to please yourself.

But it feels so much better when it’s someone else.

As Jungwon fingers you and plays with your cunt, your own hands are busy playing with your breasts,

tweaking your nipples to gain even more pleasure.

He adds another finger to the first, fingering you at a moderate pace.

You can feel yourself about to cum, and you warn Jungwon with a tug on his hair.

He continues regardless, wanting nothing more than for you to come in his mouth like he did.

You whine as your body thrashes lightly, the pleasure almost becoming too much.

���I’m gonna cum, Jungwon, please!”

His fingers speed up as well as his tongue and you’re cumming before you can even say something.

Jungwon takes all your come with vigor, the slurping sounds making you blush.

As you come down from your high, Jungwon pulls away from your cunt.

“You ready?” He asks.

You nod, “Give it to me.”

He pumps his cock a few times before rubbing it against your cunt, collecting your arousal on it.

Just when you’re about to find yourself begging, he finally pushes inside you.

You both groan, you at the intrusion and him at the tightness.

“Fuck, you’re sucking me in, noona.”

He lets you adjust for a few moments, before slowly starting to thrust.

In and out, in and out. All you hear is the sound of skin slapping against skin as your sweaty body slides against his.

You pull him down by his hair, connecting your lips in a searing kiss.

“Faster, Wonnie,” you say against his lips.

Jungwon speeds up, fucking you vigorously.

Your moans are getting louder and higher by the second, filling the room along with his grunts.

“‘M gonna cum in this pussy, right noona?”

“Yes Jungwon, yes! Cum inside, I need it!”

His pace is almost animalistic at this point, fucking your so hard your cunt starts to ache.

You hold onto him tightly as both your orgasms wash over you.

Feeling his cum fill you up is exhilarating, and he feels the same as your own orgasm splashes against him.

As he rides you both through your highs, you begin to calm down. That was the best orgasm you’ve had in a long time.

Jungwon leans down to kiss you gently. “Was it okay?”

You hum, “More than okay. I needed that.”

Jungwon lays down beside you as you both breathe somewhat heavily.

“So… how are we gonna explain this to the team?”

wonkizz 2025

[empathicliar]

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀what you deserve ¸.•* eren yeager.

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

𝟔𝐤. 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 , 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝.

༺❀༻ || 𝐬𝟒!eren , 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐫!eren , 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲-𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤!eren , college ua , for my caramel babies , eager!eren , she / her pronouns , overstimulation , sweet talker , lots of kisses , multiple orgasm's , strangers to lova's , plot based , no protection , creampie >~< , dirty talk , use of 'baby'.

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

" when you put a lil' umph in it, that's when i lose control. "

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there's only so much you can handle in a day's worth before overstimulation kicks in. rocking in a chair for four hours while getting a new row of ginger bundles sewed in by your auntie is already enough. gossiping about how your uncle is a piece of work can get added to that list too.

the white juicy couture track suit you have on is hugging your curves tighter than normal. you have ymir's 'friend' historia to thank for that. you'd only spoken to her once about how loose your tracksuits were and how badly you wanted them tighter and she got to work, completely redoing the threading to boost your ego a little to much.

eager with your hair to be done, you'd already marked a couple of other errands off the list. your fingers nails are coded with medium length cut-out shaped nails. a white base with some carnation pink painted bows. not wanting it to be to basic, you got some pink and white zebra stripes on your middle and pinky fingers.

your white painted toe-nails are covered by the ugg's you had to throw on due to the weather. you were always saying you hated summer until it wasn't around anymore and the cold had you shivering in the warmest of places.

its something about looking, feeling and smelling good that has you obsessed with yourself all over again. the vanilla scent is leaking off every surface of your body, the oil drops in your purse coming in clutch every time you wanted a refresher.

it's about four pm when your hair appointment is done. its something simple you could always deal with. 18 , 22 , 24 inch hair reaching your plush ass, your back already itching from the prickling nest.

" thank you s'much auntie! " you're exclaiming in her ear, already squeezing her to death with a hug.

you're not even close to being done. this winter break is going to be different. you naively figured you could get everything you wanted done while in college, yet when you finally touched the grounds it's like your shoulders slumped further down into a unforgivable pattern.

you stopped taking care of yourself mentally. you never stopped being a pretty bitch, nothing stops that. you got all the main things done. your hair was always styled, you don't play that. you're always soft and buttery smooth. the pet peeve for any hair on your body making you cringe.

you were always smelling good, it just became apparent you weren't going out of your way to take enough time for everything. by the time five rolls around, your sitting on your phone outside of your homegirl's house, waiting for her to get home.

mirrors by jhene aiko is playing softly in the back, your tinted windows are up and the bag of chick-fil-a nuggies are half eaten to your right. being your passy princess until further notice.

it doesn't take long for nicki to get to her place. she has big shopping bags in her hands, big balling on one of these cold ass afternoons. " you have a key to my house, you could've went in. " nicki reminds you, it slipped your mind completely. you glance at the hello kitty charm that hung in-front of your key fob, your dorm room key and her house key.

the long, black table you'd laid on more time's than your own bed has a ring light above it. a strollie with different lash things you'd never taken a hobby to is on the right side of it and the actually bundle set you asked for sits beside a bottle of water. eating the rest of your nuggets while nicki took a few bites of her salad, you both talked for God knows how long.

it's been a while since you've been in this cozy place. the apartment is on the first floor and in a gated community. you were so proud of nicki, she kept her word on making it big in life.

" you still going to ymir's tonight? " she asking while scratching the top layer of your lashes. wrong decision. it's like talking through an intense orgasm. your grabbing her hand to stop her to reply. she's only laughing at you the whole time.

" y-yeah girl i am. " your muttering out, your own laugh pouncing off the walls. nicki is a pro when it comes to getting you up and out of her chair satisfied. she snaps a video of the lashes and your making a fake brave face the whole time trying not to chuckle from the silence.

your in your car again by seven o'clock. playing with your hair in your review mirror, tucking the strands behind your ear and letting the multiple fans in your car fully dry your lashes. the song is back to playing at it's last pause while you move your lid's up in a uncomfortable position and let the air hit the base of your water lines.

you've driven to ymir's place so many times from nicki's house, you've gotten familiar with every back road, speed bump and pothole. the potholes brings back a awful memory of damage you wanted no part of remembering.

the weekend commute of straight peace was in motion. you got to ymir's house later than usually and took a joyful stride to your favorite love seat. the comfort makes you stifle a moan. you've done to much today to not get a break.

a song from ymir's recycled playlist is playing, it might be from sza's new album but you aren't to entirely sure. the only thing on your mind is food and weed. in the middle of the table there's snacks. cheddar popcorn, cherry bite twizzlers, some sour gummies and gushers. you opted on the popcorn and two packs of gushers.

on the back, light tan wall is a flat screen tv that's curved more towards you than it is connie and you finally correct your suspicions when you notice the name of the song and artist. i knew it, your thinking out with bunched up arms.

its seems like its been to long since you've been here and genuinely had time to stay.

since college had started in february, you branched out quickly when it came to friend groups. it wasn't a challenge when said friends had been around since high school. ymir, the brown haired girl with freckles and the nicest jaw line known to man offered you weed for exchanged of a pencil in junior year and connie, a surly boy with short, almost balding grey hair and a sleeve tattoo his mother didn't approve of just so happened to be next to you pouting from your win.

only a month into knowing them both, you were already coming to ymir's house and smoking like no tomorrow. connie tagging along some of the days, but he was mostly with his own group at the time. after high school, you figured this was going to be the time you all parted, saying ' i'll see you tomorrow bitch!' and never actually seeing them.

you were more than wrong when you realized you all had been planning to go the same paths.

those year's led up to these moments. now, every weekend ymir would host these little... parties or when it was strictly chill vibes and no one had the time or the energy to run around with don julio in each hand. she would host a small kickback. only inner friends only.

that consistent of you, ymir, connie's dumb ass, a girl named sasha, who connie knew in pre-school, sasha's close friend jean or john. you'd forgotten a little to quickly for your liking. they'd been coming around for months and last and least, jean's friend eren yeager.

eren's... alright. you don't have anything bad to say about the boy. he's always sweet enough to you but it seems like every time you want to engage in a conversation, its over shadowed by whatever else someone is saying. at the end of the day he's still a stranger you hadn't taken the full time to get to know. it's funny how many times you'd shared a blunt with him, lip's colliding yet never learned a single thing about him.

he has a attracting spirit. the kind you found hot to an extent. he's the type to wear strong fragrances to turn heads and its exactly what he does. that skunky scent of lavish soap and expensive cologne he seemed to never leave the house without was a dead give away he was in the area. he's always adorn in sweat pants and baggy shirt's that don't do him any justice.

you could tell he takes pride in his look, well he somewhat did at least. he always has this self-approving look on his face. his fingers are always decorated with silver rings that go well with the skeleton bone tattoo that paints from his left veiny hand to his shoulder.

it makes it hard not to look his direction when he makes such a grand entrance. he's a real eye catcher, a pretty boy you knew shouldn't be anywhere in your area. you don't do good with flirty looks and bed room eyes. they could lead you to a spare bedroom any fucking time.

" |⋆|, ghost face or michael myers? " ymir asks, breaking you out of your mini tundra.

" probably ghost face, he's so fuckable. " connie rolls his eyes, taking a big hit from the blunt he'd been preparing for minutes. the bud is covered in ashes' by the time he pulls away, heaps of smoke coming from his side of the room.

sasha, who got the second best seat in the house sat a few feet away from you. she giggles. " real recognizes real. " you nodded with a smirk and clapped her hand, the noise echo's in the spacious living room.

" you nigga's are just freaky, that's all it is. " you almost let a 'shut up connie.' fall from your lips but the front door opens. in walks the person who was always late. eren. he has his hands in these loose, black sweat-pant pockets, you don't have to see those daring fingers to know he has them covered with hard looking rings. the grey t'shirt he's wearing has a design on the front you cant really decipher.

" what's up yeager. " eren tilts his head up for a greeting and makes his way to connie. his plush lips twist into a confident simper as he daps the two guys up.

eren's speaking again, taking a glance at the table with half of the snacks missing and only two rolls left. " y'all couldnt wait on me? "

" you take forever. " you say, bringing a dark blanket to your chest. " so what? " eren replies with smugness, his green eyes peering at yours with pure coy. you only return it with your infamous eyeroll to kill his dreams.

'i hate a nigga that knows he's good looking. '

" you live the closest. " stating the obvious, eren plops down in the seat in between connie and jean, folding his arms over the back, man-spreading his clothed legs to get some more room. its like he knows you want to look at his every move. he's too damn fine for his own good.

it isn't long before he's changing his seating position and he's reaching at that brown wooden table for a pack of rolls and the weed grinder. he opens the black container – seeing connie left him enough for one blunt. he's taking his win quickly.

finger's making quick toil on folding the creases in, tongue slipping out to seal it. you're face is fuming when he brings the lighter to the end of the blunt and the light reflects on his face. he's so focused on the misty smoke and not wasting the little he has, he doesn't notice the gushing look he's getting from the woman across the room.

'did it just get hotter in here or something?' you take a glance to the thermostat next to the goldish rimmed painting hanging above your head. sixty-seven degrees and no showing of anything getting hotter anytime soon. you chew on your lip. its probably that thick ass blunt ymir made you. it has to be kicking in or something.

speaking of the freckle faced stoner, she walks back into the room, you hadn't even noticed she'd gotten up. she's empty handed, using one of her hands to swipe a strand of hair out of her face. " bro, can we start the movie? i'm tryna' hang out with historia later. "

sasha ooo's like a school girl, wiggling her pale, small fingers teasingly at ymir. " you're always with historiaaa~. " sasha has this silly smirk on her face and the brown skinned girl groans from it, flipping her middle finger in her direction.

usually it takes a while to pick a movie. by this time the weed is hitting all of them and blurring the limit for time. they would often scroll through the same list on netflix and not even realize it.

this time is a little different, ymir is in a real rush to get to this 'friend' of hers. she has the tiny roku remote in her fingers as she continuously flicker through the movies. she ultimately stops on a scary movie and clicks the screen. she sends a look around the room for any concerns then actually plays the movie.

before the credits have even started the pop of a chip bag is already sounding around the room and cheesy flavoring is flooding your senses. sasha's wincing with a pouty smile, not realizing how alerting the noise was.

the first scene is a white girl manually popping corn. the volume is low but the surround sound speakers ymir got installed almost a year ago make it seem much louder. it isn't long before that same girl is killed in front of a big front yard.

by the time the movie ends, everyone is pretty much out of it. heads leaning on arm rest's. the lighters have stopped clicking and the smell of weed isn't prominent as it used to be. you'd grown used to that cozy smell. the foggy room is actually clear for the first time in years.

wiping your eyes like a kid, then realizing you had on lashes. you curse underneath your breath. looking around the quiet room, sasha and jean are sleeping soundly. connie was sleep twenty minutes into the movie. you could hear his loud ass snores. ymir isn't even in the room anymore. the second the movie ended she was gone out the front door but not without giving you a loused side hug.

you figured you were the only one functioning correctly and tossed the blanket to the side. the cold sends chill's down your arms but you don't mind it. it feels sort of good. your painted feet hit the tiled floor with a small 'plap' sound and you glance around the room to make sure it hadn't woke anyone up.

" where you going' ? " jumping, the fabric of your white, zip up jacket is grasped. instead of consoling your fear, the mad-man laughs.

" stop laughing bro, i almost had a heart attack. " you pause, taking a breath. " thought yo ass was sleep. " you explain further, standing up fully and getting a good, well hazy look at eren. his phone light is on dim and he's barely bringing it up high enough to make it known he's awake.

both of his shoulders are pretty much in use by the two boys he's squished in between. instead of looking uncomfortable, it looks like he found slight comfort in them being next to him. it's leaving a smile on your face instead of a panicked frown.

he hum's, dropping the dark phone in his lap. " still didn't answer my question. " you tilt your head, thinking back to said question.

when it finally hits your scuzzy mind, you're letting out a soft 'oh!' " no where, well i don't know. i just want some fresh air. " you're falsely admitting, stretching your body to release any tension.

did you really need some fresh air or were the stirs from connie and jean making it known they could wake up and once again take away the little time you had to get to know eren? it's probably the bud thinking for you at this point.

" you can come with me. " turning on your heels, you almost miss the several groans from jean and connie from being pushed aside. " you that eager nigga? " questioning with the slightest amount of tease, he's right behind you in a heart beat.

" nah. " turning back to look at him, he's already looking at your back side with a smirk. his own limbs being stretched out. he slips on his slides and you didn't feel like putting on your boots, so you opted on stealing ymir's flip-flops she kept by the door.

you didn't really plan this far out. it has to be around eleven or so, your to high to drive home, you actually didn't need any air and you can already tell its cold as hell outside. it was just the perfect excuse to get out of that room and into a more private one with eren, no one was going to interrupt your mission.

men are so easy, your practically nodding to yourself. ymir's back door is opened and closed within seconds, the back porch is nicely clean except for a few leaves and dirt that you didn't really care about right now, you swiped some dirt off the second step and shuffled to the left to give him some room.

eren is sitting down on the first step soon after, without the hassle of wiping anything down. now, its quiet and cold, and there's really nothing to say or do when the wind is speaking.

" how long you been in shiganshina? " he asks after long periods of silence.

" my whole life. " your replying, low eyes blurry with the upcoming mist from the weather. " and you? "

" born and raised. " then its quiet again. your messing with your acrylic's , only looking up when a tree bristles loud enough to sound like it might fall.

" those are really pretty. " quirking your head up, it seemed like you're staring into a bottomless pit of beauty. eren's not even paying attention to anything but you and the way your skin is still so moist in such cold air.

its little details on his face you thought you'd already noticed before that have you feining. you squint your eyes. his nose is pierced on the right side. the actually dot isn't a dot like yours. its a silver star that's small but glance worthy when anyone see's it.

his hair looks so healthy, not only in the sun but also in the moonlight. you're kind of jealous of that. even in its normal state in that low back bun, you can tell he isn't using men's one-hundred in one. the wind casts a breeze in your direction, that's giving you another reminder. the soft smell of lemon and something sweet like pineapple's is hitting your nose. such different smells that go rewardingly well on him.

" gimme' your hand. " your obeying it without question, he chuckles at the haste and you dare to drag your hand away. " i'm playing pretty, i just want to see. "

" why? " asking nicely and still letting him slither those slender, tattooed fingers over your bedazzled nails, he's humming again and not answering your question now.

" hello? " rubbing his thumb over your knuckle gently, the calluses of his own has you quietly swallowing. he perks your hand up finally and actually looks at the nails now. " my bad, my mom does nails. " you frown, still not understanding what that has to do with him looking at your hands like a meal.

giving him a better show, you half curl your hand and lay it side ways in his own. your palms touching and forming heat you didn't know you needed to entirely bad. " so? " you mutter, not returning the eye contact you know he has on you.

" nothing, she could just do better than this. " he flaunting out, stretching those delicate fingers ever so slightly. you don't even realize he brings both of your hands down and resting them on his rough lap, you're to focused on the cute little gesture's he's making.

" you letting me meet your mommy already? " it was cute how he wanted to get his mom some new clients, he must be a momma's boy. eren's nodding instead of laughing though, replying with simplicity. " yeah. "

" what's up with you bro. " you chuckle. " i don't even know your birthday and your trying to let me meet your mom's- "

" march thirtieth. " cutting you off, you almost forgot you had even said anything about a birthday. your brain is realtering itself to remember that date when this high is over.

eren's not ashamed to look at the prize he wants. he's been plotting for fucking months and nothing is going to break him out of this. his low, emerald eyes are falling down the pattern of your silver zipper, falling into your lap. undressing those lacey panties he just knows you have on under those pants.

it has you shying away, wanting to turn around in your respectful seat. that's when it hits you. that grip on your hand wasn't from your other one. it's from his, unmoving and finally locking into those intimidatingly attractive eyes, your glancing at those wet lips he managed to always keep looking mushy.

you know they are the softest lips you'd ever feel. like pillows sent from heaven. you grip his hand, no longer just wanting to feel his sweaty palm, but those fingers- his fore arms, his strong shoulders. everywhere he'd allow you.

" eren... " encaging his fingers into a tight hold, he takes a quick look at his thigh. he isn't able to hide the side smile that's forming. you don't even know why you're calling his name, you just wanted him to say something with that slutty voice of his. – just acknowledge you in every way possible.

" yeah? " your beady eyes are watering from the constant pressure of wind and its becoming so fucking obvious you both don't want to be in the cold anymore.

" what are you trying to do? "

" you want me to be honest baby? " baby... that word has you dripping, squeezing your thighs together to take away that ache in your cunt. you nod. you can't find those confident words anywhere in sight. its hard to say men are easy when you're soaking just from being close to him.

" i wanna take you to a room and make you feel real good. " his head is cocking to the left and those eyes he kept on you are dropping lower. his hand twitches in your grasp and it doesn't take much to know he's putting you in eight different positions in his head.

" we don't even have to fuck, i just want to eat your pussy. "

your mouth lathers with saliva, and your standing up to entirely quick. eren is laughing behind you and your so horny you don't even tell him off. you don't care about the three people on the couch sleeping good. you want to take this pretty boy up on his offer.

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⚔︎

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folded up, knees to your chest. the air is hitting your warm pussy. your panting from the littlest touches to your body. plush form being demolished by the stronger man keeping you still. eren has his hands in the bottom creases of your knees, applying pressure that only gives you minimal lay away to move around.

your pussy is leaking on the sheets, all type's of fluid leaving a stain you didn't care for. he's mouthing on your cunt, his spit coating your pussy in a new layer of slick. eren kept his word. he didn't need to fuck you to feel good. he made that known when he took a long lick from your entrance to the top of your cunt in a slow strobe, whimpering hard.

" stop squirming baby. " he's muttering into your pussy, kissing your puffy clit. face full of your cum and arousal. he's so deep in between those legs he can barely breathe. his stubbled chin constantly coming in contact with your needy, waiting entrance.

you cant keep your hands from gripping at any and everything. your holding onto the spare room pillow, covering your face and mouth to keep the others from hearing the total mess you're steady becoming.

" nah, move that. " you don't listen, your voice pouty and muffled in the pillow. eren doesn't have time to play games with you, he's been doing that for months. he snatches the pillow away himself and throws it at the wall.

" i wanna hear you. fuck them. " your spasming on his tongue again before you can speak. weeps of moans falling on deaths door from the amount of pleasure happening on your pretty pussy. your hiccupping from the lack of air entering your lungs, to caught up on the way eren is twisting his tongue over your sensitive clit.

eren's been licking, flicking and sucking on your clit for almost a hour. he just can't get enough of you. you taste so sweet and tarty, its like a fucking desert he can only indulge in. anything your body is willingly to push out for him to taste he's sucking it up.

fucking his tongue in and out of your tight hole, eyes open the entire time to watch you come undone. your hair is sticking to your face, the ginger bringing the caramel out of your skin and aiding your beauty. he didn't think you could get any more sexier.

" fuck baby, " smacking your inner thigh, he gets a breather before he actually dies in the best way possible. " pussy to damn dangerous. " he's huffing and hitting those soft, thick thighs, wanting nothing more than to leave his marks on your skin.

your cute little face scrunches and yelps fill the room, his mouth falling back on those fat lips to get another sample, tasting that sweet juicy fruit. his jaw is hurting and damn near begging for it to end but he doesn't give a fuck. he wants to make you feel good, too good.

your to much of a pretty girl to not have someone in between these legs every day. " 'ren! " eren speeds up, ignoring those pleas. " 'ren, baby please. " you're begging, the knot in your stomach forming from the endless pleasure. you don't know if your begging because its too much or he's to damn good at this and you need to repay him somehow.

– between the base of your thighs being smacked and the vibration of eren moaning, a shock ascends throughout your body. cumming for the third time that night. stars are forming in the far corners of your eyes. it feels like eren has full control of your body. he's keeping you still with only two arms and smirking from how fucked out you already look.

your body is still twitching and it takes a army and every working limb you have to pull him off of you by his hair. he's raspy and to happy for someone who could've died from being to pussy drunk. your chest is heavy and it feels like you can finally inhale properly.

" my bad. " sheepishly apologizing, he plants a soft kiss to your abused clit and toothily smiles when you give him a death stare. gently bringing your knees from your squished chest down, he's kissing your sore knee-caps, wetly sucking on the frontal part of your thighs.

somethings bothering you heavily and its making your chest warm unnaturally seeing him care about every aspect of your body. " why are you taking care of me? "

" whatchu' talking about? "

" this. " you lazily point at his hands that sting a way into your pores. " you kissing on me like you love me and shit. "

" wouldn't go that far. " your rolling your red eyes again and dragging a hand down to your tummy, letting it rest for the time being. " this is mandatory though. you just fuck with the wrong boys. " you want to take it as a stray but actually process it. have you really been messing with guy's who didn't think to care for your body?

it has you recurring every misaligning person you let into your safe space and have a way with your figure. " hey, don't think about it " eren snaps in your face. " that's why i'm here, ima take care of you baby. promise. "

biting your lip, your pushing everything away because he asked you too and something about that foreign feeling doesn't feel to damn bad. you don't have it in you to talk or ask him for anything else, but you spread those legs of yours and beckon him to come here. how can he ever say no to you.

he's shuffling in-between you, applying his hand on one of the pillows next to your head. you stare into his alluring eyes, raking your hand from your own stomach to his. he's gulping, his adam's apple plumping with nerves.

" you wanna fuck me yeager? " he feels like a virgin when you speak like that. anxious and scared to disappoint, he's nodding, bring his head down to plant a soft kiss to your plump lips. just like you thought, they're so pulpy and flush. he kisses like butter, like a piece of bubble gum that's so slinky you almost want to swallow it.

the kiss is deepening with the mood, the fist in his hair is keeping him from cumming in his pants. he almost doesn't want to pull away but he can feel her dripping under him and there's only so much his dick can take before it's begging to be buried inside that soft cushion.

he's making quick work with his clothes. sitting on the balls of his feet, he's tugging his shirt over his head. the sight of his toned chest has you gawking. it's a good thing he only wore comfy clothing, you would've pounced on him the moment he walked into this house.

" take your time... " you joke, casting your surly eyes to the space below your plush tummy. tapping your nails on your stomach. he's already groaning from the sight. you didn't think he could get any faster, he's slipping out of pants and those tight boxers in second.

to say you were disappointed never crossed your mind. you're actually fucking nervous. he's thick, with a healthy pink tip and some inches that make you squeeze your stomach in.

" don't go getting scared on me pretty. " stroking his length, he's bringing your left leg up, kissing the base of your ankle sloppily. his dick is leaking with pre-cum, slouching his tip on your clit. you both let out a soft gasp.

the feeling is euphonic, sensitive clit being brought back to life with one little swipe. your grinding lightly on his tip and he's hissing from how wet she is. " yeah baby, mhmm... you know how to do it. " he praises, his teeth biting into his cheek.

" put it in 'ren. " lifting your hips, you get so close to pushing his dick in and he aids it, his brows knitting, mouth falling open when he aligns it right, sliding into your entrance with ease.

the moan's fall off the wall. he's stretching you so well. the pain almost feels too good. your mouth shaped into a 'o and your hands are fumbling for something new to grab. eren has his head draped down to watch him slip inside of that pussy that cant help but suck him in.

he's whimpering when you clench- moaning when you're folding your legs around him to push in deeper. it's like he can cum from this alone. you just hugging him in has him gapping.

" pussy to fuckin' wet, fuckkk. " he's groaning out in between deep thrusts, pace picking up fast as fuck for someone on the verge of tapping out. your body is following his orders, back arched with intent to make him feel good. eyes rolling from the captivity of his being.

its almost to much when he pushes in to deep, hips runting into your poor cunt like she hadn't been through enough. his tip is ramming into that gushy spot inside of you that has your brain shuttering to working. your mewling loud -- unable to form a single coherent word.

legs pulled tight to hold him in, cunt tightening on his dick making his steady thrust sloppy for mere seconds before he's back to putting in work. dainty fingers coming to rest on his v-line, not pushing but not letting him reach that spot that makes you go fucking crazy. he's silent with how bothered he is about that hand, he knows you're still sensitive and recovering from those heavenly orgasms, but he's to entuned to stop when he knows it'll make you feel so, so good.

" move it. " he's stating with attitude, you refuse to and he only slows down. you whine from the loss. your moaning his name pathetically, lifting your own hips to get that feeling back before its gone. he holds your supple hips down, leaning down to kiss and fondle with your brown nipples.

" e'ren, come on! "

" you gonna keep that fuckin' hand down? " you nod, panting, surprised you were even able to speak in the first place. he's returned that pace little by little, watching your fingers retreat to one of the blue pillows behind your back, eyes closed.

head hanging low, hair coming out of that bun from all the tugging, he almost looks like a greek status above you- one hand on your tummy, squishing it down to feel the cave his dick is making, the other bringing your left leg back to his lips, folding you – he's to caught up in how response you are to his touches.

propping your ankle on his shoulder, leaning down to look you dead in your watery eyes. you cant shy away from nothing now. he's thrusting in deep, pussy gushing all over the sheets and his length. eye's faltering when it comes to keeping that contact.

" i'm so close baby. " he's warning you and your nodding to agree with him, your arms lifting to his neck, dragging him down for a kiss. tongue lacing with his like second nature – eyes shut when that knot in your guts is on the verge of breaking and broken cries are falling in between the kiss.

" gonna cum in you baby, you don't mind that d-do you? " to head-struck, your nodding like a idiot in heat. that gives eren a new goal, he's stroking in like a wild animal, biting his lip so hard it bleeds when you squeeze him.

trying your hardest to keep your moans in, eren pushes in one last time and hits that blurry spot that renders you brain dead. your moaning, clawing on his v'line with that new set to keep him from moving. cunt completely spent and aching again when eren is painting your walls white.

the warm feeling only making it worse, now he cant move or you might regret it. eren's heaving, one hand on the headrest to puff out and rush in the smell of sex, vanilla and shea butter.

" fuckkk i gotta' get you a plan b asap. "

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©𝙀𝙈𝙋𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙄𝘾𝙇𝙄𝘼𝙍 any sort of stealing or modifying is prohibited, mess with your momma not me.

[jjscrybaby]

first dates <3

jj maybank x fem!reader | fluff | (friends to lovers, just pure adorableness tbh, sexual jokes, kissing, smoking weed.)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

“So, what does a date with JJ Maybank look like?” Your arm was linked through his, the two of you walking down the beach; the gentle breeze had goosebumps spreading over your bare skin. Sue you for wanting to look nice.

About 97% of the days you’d spent with JJ were in a bikini, pyjamas or just some old denim shorts and a crop top. You never tried to look nice for him, because you didn’t have to. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he was your friend. Ever since Sarah had started dating John B your circles had merged and the two of you had become particularly attached at the hip. Maybe you should have realised sooner you had feelings for him, but the line between friendship and romance is difficult to differentiate sometimes.

Surprisingly, you weren’t confused when he asked you out. It felt normal, felt right. You’d given him a sweet smile, kissed his cheek and told him to pick you up at seven.

“I can’t say I’ve been on many,” he admitted, shrugging his jacket off to put on you. “But, usually, I start with food.”

“You always do,” you tease, putting your arms through the hoodie with a grin. He linked his fingers through yours, throwing you a wink as he changed directions. You didn’t realise where you were headed until you were stood outside. “You want to have our first date at the Wreck? We eat here all the time.”

“You love the cheeseburgers,” he shrugged, holding the door open for you. The bell jingled above you, you looked back at him with a giddy smile.

Kiara, luckily, wasn’t working tonight so you didn’t have her eyeing the two of you like an overbearing mother. A waiter came over to your table and he ordered, knowing just what you wanted without you having to say a word. He’d decided to sit beside you instead of opposite, in a little booth in the back, you were pretty sure it was just so he could rest his hand on your thigh.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” he complimented. You’d decided on a sundress, knowing he had a thing for them.

“You’ve told me several times,” you teased, tucking your hair behind your ears. “You look beautiful, too.”

“Aww, thanks,” he laughed, making you giggle.

First dates were usually awkward, you’d always need at least two glasses of wine to loosen up. You hadn’t even had a sip for this. You adored JJ, he already knew everything about you so there were no awkward conversations needed to be had. He’d held your hair back whilst you threw up in a bush after one too many tequila shots, so you couldn’t possibly embarrass yourself. You felt completely relaxed, it was the best you’d felt in a long time.

Your food and drinks arrived, his hand didn’t stray from your thigh the entire meal. He flirted with you nonstop, but you very quickly realised he’d been doing that since you met. The teasing comments, the unsubtle looks, it was nothing new; and yet you still blushed every time.

“What’s next?” You asked as the two of you left the restaurant, his wallet the only one feeling a little emptier.

“The nice meal wasn’t good enough for ya?” He joked, arm around your shoulders.

“It was exquisite, but I think you can do better,” you shrugged, reaching up to hold the hand he’d wrapped around you.

“We’ll see.”

The arcade was your favourite place on the island, not for the games, no, they were fun but they weren’t the reason you loved it so much. You went there purely to people watch. A variety of people came into the arcade, and you loved to make up fun stories about them. And, of course, JJ knew that.

“What ‘bout them?” The two of you were sat, sipping slushies and looking around the room. You’d played a few games, he let you win every time, and now it was time for the real fun.

“She’s pregnant but hasn’t told him yet, because it’s not his baby,” you replied. He gasped dramatically, making you snort into your cup.

“Who’s the daddy?” JJ asked, subtly pulling you closer to him so your back was leaning against his chest.

Your cheeks went pink, but you chose to ignore it and take another sip of your drink; even as he let out a chuckle. “That guy.” You pointed to an elderly man who was standing in the corner.

“Damn, he’s still got it,” JJ murmured. You giggled, turning to face him with an amused smile. Your faces were inches apart as he grinned back at you.

For a second, you thought he was going to kiss you; he cupped your cheek and gently stroked his thumb over your cheekbone, but just as you were about to lean in he brought his hand back, licked his thumb and then rubbed it over your top lip.

“Slushie juice,” he explained, licking his thumb before looking around the room again. “Ooo, what about her?”

You were on his back as you walked back across the beach, your feet were hurting because you decided to wear uncomfortable shoes that went with your dress and you’d refused to walk any further. He didn’t even flinch, just bent down in front of you and waited. He was carrying your shoes, babbling on about something John B had done.

“Where are we headed?” He asked, adjusting his hold on you. “The Chateau?”

“On the first date? Who do you take me for?” You smirked.

“Says the girl who slept with Brandon Gibbs after the first date. Am I not good enough for you?” He replied dramatically.

“Hey! You promised to never bring that up again,” you whined.

He laughed, suddenly stopping in his movements to drop you back down. Instead of giving you your shoes like you expected, he sat down on the sand and waited for you to join him. “There’s one part of a JJ Maybank date that we haven’t done yet.”

“On the beach? Dirty,” you smirked, sitting down next to him.

“Shuddup.” He pulled out a pre-rolled joint from his pocket, waving it in your face. “My speciality.”

“Did you grow it?”

“I’ve had enough of the smartass comments, baby.” You couldn’t come up with another one, not with the way the pet name left his lips. He’d called you baby plenty of times, but something about that moment just made it feel special.

You shared the joint, passing it back and forth as you talked softly to each other. By the time it was finished, you were sitting in his lap with your eyes half open and kisses being pressed to the side of your head.

“So, how’d I do?” JJ murmured, lips only inches away from your ear.

“10/10,” you replied, running your hand through his hair with a lazy smile. “Best date I’ve ever been on, hands down.”

“Well that’s good to hear,” he grinned. “You think I did good enough for a kiss?”

“Mhm, maybe,” you teased, turning your head so your lips brushed against his. He let out a shaky exhale, cupping your cheeks in his warm hands like he’d done earlier on; except this time, there was no juice.

His lips moved smoothly against yours, hands pulling you as close as humanly possible. His tongue licked over your bottom lip, causing a hum to leave yours.

“Do you want to go on a second date?” He murmured against your lips.

“And a third,” you grinned.

When you both finally pulled away, both your lips were puffy, your hair messy and cheeks flushed. Neither of you had ever looked happier.

“C’mon, you’re carrying me to the Chateau if you want that second date,” you stated, standing up.

“Am I gonna be the new Brandon Gibbs?”

“Not anymore, you’re not.”

[mrsmangi]

Hibiscus 🌺🌺🌺

late night call - luigi mangione

♡ flower prompt: hibiscus - the realization of a friendship becoming something more - meaning: in victorian times, the gift of a hibiscus bloom meant that the giver was acknowledging the receiver’s delicate beauty. ♡ w.c.: 1k ♡ a/n: hi, love! thank you so much for your request. srry for the delay, i'm a bit backed up with requests. she's a short one, but i hope you enjoy!

♡ send me a flower & i'll write a drabble based off the prompt ! ↪ prompts that have been requested

“Do you ever think people realize just how loud their ceiling fans are?” 

His voice comes through the phone, low and scratchy, like he’s been lying on his back for too long, staring at his own ceiling. You giggle softly, shifting against the pillow propped against your back. Your own fan spins above you, a rhythmic hum filling the space between his words and yours. 

“It’s white noise,” you say, quieter than usual. “After a while, you get used to it and stop hearing it.” 

“Mm, not tonight,” Luigi sighs. “It’s like the fan’s trying to keep me awake for as long as possible.”

You laugh again, a soft, breathy sound that feels just a bit too loud in the stillness of your room. It’s past midnight–long past the time you’d planned to be asleep–but this is how many of your nights with Luigi go. What starts with casual texts morphs into a phone call, then into hours of talking about nonsense; everything and nothing.

“Maybe it’s just your thoughts,” you tease. “What are the voices yelling at you about tonight?” 

He pauses on the other end of the line, just the faint sound of his breathing audible. You know Luigi well enough by now to know he’s not actively ignoring your question; he’s only deciding how much of himself to give away. 

“Life,” he answers lamely, though the vagueness of the reply altogether makes it clear there’s more to it than that. “Do you ever feel like no matter how much you do to succeed, it’s never enough?” 

You roll onto your side, pressing the phone closer to your ear. The dim glow of your bedside lamp casts uneven shadows against the wall. 

“All the time,” you reply honestly. “It gets exhausting, though. I feel like I’m just running a race no one even cares to watch.” 

He exhales, a sound that crackles through the receiver. When he speaks again, his voice carries the kind of understanding that comes from being seen. “Yeah. I get it.” 

The two of you fall into shared silence, the steady hum of your ceiling fan whispering across the line. You let yourself picture him for a moment–probably sprawled out on his bed, one arm thrown over his eyes. His phone would be balanced in his other hand. The image feels familiar, like something you’ve seen a thousand times before, even though you haven’t. 

“Can I ask you something?” His voice breaks the quiet.

“Always.” 

He’s quiet again, but you don’t rush him.

“Do you think…” He pauses again, and you can hear the shift of his breathing. “Do you ever think it’s possible for something to change without either person realizing it? Like, to wake up one day and feel like everything’s changed, even though nothing is actually different?” 

“Maybe,” you say cautiously, voice softer now. “Sometimes things can change so slowly you don’t even notice until it’s already different. Then, you find yourself wondering how long it’s been that way.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “That’s exactly what I mean.” 

You stare up at the spinning fan, asking him, “What’s different, Luigi?” 

He doesn’t answer right away. His continuous pauses make you grow somewhat uneasy, stretching a distance between you. “Us,” he says. “I think we’re different.” 

You exhale slowly. “Different how?” 

“I don’t know,” he admits. “But it’s like every time we talk, it feels different. More important, somehow, like there’s something there that wasn’t before.” He stops and you can nearly hear the way he’s turning the words over rin his head. “I used to just…enjoy talking to you, but now, it feels like I catch myself waiting for it. I’m counting down to the next time I’ll hear your voice. And when we’re not talking, I’m thinking about what I want to tell you the next time I see you, or wondering what you’re doing, or–” He breaks out into nervous laughter, cutting himself off. “Um, does any of that make sense or am I just rambling?” 

It makes perfect sense. Too much sense. Your heart picks up speed, the weight of his words pressing against the thoughts you’ve tried to push to the back of your mind. You notice it too. You’ve felt a change in the way you catch yourself thinking about him at odd moments–when a song reminds you of something he’s said, or when you replay the voice messages he sends just to hear his laugh on repeat. Tonight, he speaks heavier, like he’s cracked open a door you have both been staring at for weeks, maybe longer, unsure of who will turn the handle first. 

“It does,” you whisper. 

There’s a small, nearly imperceptible breath on his end, like he’s been holding it and didn’t even realize. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You chew on your bottom lip, letting the word sink in. “I didn’t know if I should say anything. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.” 

“Me neither,” he says, “but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel it. I do. All the time.” 

You close your eyes, the glow of the lamp behind your lids is a soft orange hue. “So, what now?” 

“I’m not sure,” he says. There’s no pretense, no cleverness to soften the edges of his words. “But maybe we can figure it out. Together.” He says his last word carefully, almost like it’s fragile–like it may break under the weight of its meaning if he doesn’t say it the right way. 

You hear him shift, the faint sound of fabric rustling through the receiver. It’s a small thing, but it makes the moment feel so real, tangible, like he’s not just a voice in the dark. You let his words settle over you. Luigi doesn’t have the answers to all your worries and neither do you. But, it feels comforting somehow–to know that he’s with you in this journey, and you with him. 

“Okay,” you say. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You know he can hear it, even if he can’t see it. Your heart is full of love for this boy as you exhale: “Together.”

[starlost-maniac]

My Significant Bother - Ch 2

Warnings/genre: SMUT, piv, unprotected sex (don't do it), mxf, mxm, some angst if you squint, unrequited love(?), Mean Jisung (kinda?) I probably missed some (I'll eventually remember all the tags -_-)

Pairing: MinSung x fem!reader

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, DNI

dividers made by @cafekitsune

"Minho.." You look at your boyfriend, shocked.

"The delivery guy was being a creep, hyung. He was coming into the house and she called for me. Since you were in the shower, I pretended to be her boyfriend and the creep wanted proof." Jisung wipes his mouth again.

"It's not a problem, Ji. Thank you for protecting kitten for me." He smiles at you both, stepping closer to you.

"You aren't mad?" You look at him as he stops in front of you.

"Why would I be mad? Jisung was keeping you safe when I was unavailable." He leans down and kisses your head softly. "Let me go and get dressed, and we can eat dinner. Ji, can you bring the food to the living room and find a movie or something?" He asks, looking at his friend. The boy nods, making sure the door is locked before grabbing the pizza boxes and heading to the living room. Minho pats your ass softly before turning around to go back to his room to dress. You stare after him before going into the living room, sitting on the couch opposite of where Jisung planted himself.

"Thank you, Jisung." You say quietly. You were thankful he helped, but now you were a bit confused. His kiss didn't feel like he was doing it just to help you.

"Don't mention it." He says, flipping through movies on Netflix. You stare at the TV until Minho comes back out and sits between you two. Once a movie is decided, you all eat and watch the TV, cleaning up afterwards. Jisung goes off to take a shower while you do the little bit of dishes that were piled next to the sink. Minho comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pressing himself against your back.

"You feeling ok, kitten? You've been quiet." He kisses the back of your head.

"Yeah, just never had anyone be that much of a creep before. Made my skin crawl and I was scared. I couldn't call for you and I didn't think Jisung would help me." You sigh as you wring out the sponge, turning off the water afterwards.

"Just because you two fight, doesn't mean he won't help, kitten. He's still a decent human being." He kisses your temple. You nod, smiling when your boyfriend starts peppering your cheek with kisses. You laugh and squirm in his hold. He moves his arms and picks you up. "Let's get this kitten to bed. I'm sure she's tired." He carries you off to bed, playfully tossing you onto his mattress. You laugh out and turn onto your back, smiling up at him. He smiles and slips his shirt off and climbs into bed with you. He hovers over you a bit, looking into your eyes before he leans down and kisses you ever so softly.

You move one hand to his cheek as you close your eyes, the other lays on his chest, his skin warm against yours. He moves his free hand down to the bottom of the shirt you stole from him, slipping his hand under it to place his hand on your stomach. He kisses you deeper, gently nipping at your lower lip. Just as he slips his tongue in your mouth, Jisung knocks on the door. Minho let's a 'hmm?' escape his throat and the younger boy pops his head in a bit.

"Is it cool if I sleep in here? My room is cold and I can't find the extra blankets."

"Mhmm." Minho continues to slide his hand up your stomach a bit, the shirt not lifting far enough to show your skin off. You lightly tap his chest when he gives Jisung the ok, but Minho just chuckles. Jisung walks in and over to the bed, somehow oblivious to what's going on. He lays down next to Minho and stares at the ceiling. Your boyfriend grins into the kiss before pulling away, moving his head down to playfully bite at your nipple through his shirt. You gasp and moan softly, giving him a light tap again.

"Hyung..?" Jisung says after a moment of silence.

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

"Mm..just teasing kitten a bit. Nothing bad." He laughs out.

"Uh-huh." He's quiet for another moment. "Should..should I leave?" He starts to sit up. Minho chuckles and lays down.

"No. I'm done." He laughs and pulls the blanket up, covering you up, Jisung lays back down and pulls the blanket up as well. Jisung turns onto his side, facing away from you and Minho, not wanting his friend to feel that his dick was hard from your moan.

——

It's been nearly a month since Jisung started working at the same company as you. He was surprisingly very good at the job, and even more surprising, he was easy to work with. Your coworkers loved working with him as well. You were typing away on your computer, answering emails when Jisung came next to your desk.

"So, how do they do birthdays here? Cause I caught wind that both Felix's and Seungmin's birthdays were on the weekend."

"Usually we get a cake for the floor, obviously one big enough to accommodate around 30 people." You sit back in your chair. "Felix and Seungmin didn't want anything extravagant this year, so per their request, we didn't celebrate. Still wished them a happy birthday though. Chan may or may not celebrate his with us as his is coming up."

"Hmm." Jisung nods. "Speaking of birthdays, did Minho say anything about celebrating his birthday this year?"

"Not really. We might just go out for dinner and a movie. It's what he likes to do." You run your fingers through your hair, the scent of your shampoo wafts up to Jisung's nose. He inhales it deeply but quietly. "We may go to the animal shelter to see the cats. He loves to see them." You smile softly, thinking about how cuddly he gets when he plays with the cats and kittens.

Jisung nods. "Sounds like fun." He stands there for a moment longer, enjoying the scent of your shampoo.

"Is there…anything else I can do for you, Jisung?" You look up at him. He stares down at you, doe eyed. He shakes his head and goes back to his desk. The rest of the work day goes by with nothing exciting happening. Minho picks you and Jisung up and brings you home. You do your regular routine of taking your makeup off and changing into comfortable clothes, this time opting for a longer style crop top and sleep shorts. You go and sit on the living room couch, legs tucked underneath you. You scroll on your phone quietly as Jisung sits on the recliner off to the side.

"Do you two want anything specific for dinner tonight, or should we just order something? I'm kinda in the mood for Chinese." Minho calls down the hall from the bathroom.

"Chinese sounds good, baby." You call back, Jisung seconds it.

"Ooh, sounds like you two are finally starting to agree on things." Minho teases.

"It's food, hyung. Chinese is also always a good option." Jisung reclines the chair, scrolling on his own phone. He occasionally sneaks a glance at you. Minho comes out and sits next to you, quickly ordering the food, knowing exactly what you and Jisung like. He tosses his phone on the couch and pulls you into his lap. You giggle and peck his lips.

"Hi baby." You kiss the tip of his nose.

"Hi kitten." He smiles up at you. "How was work today?"

"Same as usual. The guys get along with Jisung. He's surprisingly good at the job." Jisung complains from his seat. Minho laughs, placing his hands on your hips, rubbing your bare skin with his thumbs.

"Are you two getting along more though?" Minho looks between you two.

"Gotta be for the job. Especially since I'm the team leader." You raise your arms above you and stretch. Your shirt lifting just enough for Minho to see the underside of your breasts. Jisung watches you, just barely able to see the view Minho has. He leans over in his seat, resting his head in his hand, making it seem like he was getting comfortable.

Your boyfriend grins and brings his hands up to gently cup the underside of your chest. You laugh a bit and lower your arms, your shirt now bunched up some on his wrists. He gently squeezes the mounds.

"Can I help you, baby?" You ask, smiling at him.

"Mm, no. I think I'm good." He grins more, gently squeezing again before slipping his thumbs up to your nipples. He gives them a quick swipe, making the sensitive nubs harden. You give him a look that says 'really?' and shake your head. Jisung watches from his seat. He positioned himself where it looks like he's looking at his phone, but he can still see what Minho is doing.

"Jisung is still right there, baby." You place your hands on Minho's arms.

"He's too busy with his phone." His eyes flick to his friend. "Ji?"

"Hmm?" He focuses on his phone.

"See, kitten. He's not paying attention." Minho leans forward and kisses your breasts through your shirt. "Plus, it's not like you don't like being watched." He chuckles. Jisung feels his dick twitch in his shorts, gaze flicking back up to you and Minho. The older one sits back, catching that Jisung is watching. He grins and chuckles, playfully pulling your shirt up a bit more, uncovering up to just under your nipples.

"That's true, but I'd rather he not be the one watching." You state. Minho leans forward again, softly nipping at your skin. He chuckles when you let out a quiet moan. He lifts your shirt and tucks his head inside, kissing your breasts softly, effectively distracting you. You move your hands up to his shoulders, eyes closing. Jisung carefully adjusts himself in his shorts as he watches over his phone. Minho kisses and licks around your nipple, teasing you. You moan softly, head tilting back some.

Minho chuckles, his breath warm against your skin, goosebumps spreading across your skin. Minho flattens his tongue against your breast and licks slowly across your nipple. You gasp softly and moan again as he sucks your nipple into his mouth. He slowly licks and sucks on your bud, enjoying the sounds you make.

Jisung lowers his phone, watching more obviously, thankful that you can't see him. He jumps when he hears a knock at the door.

"I'll get it." He mumbles, standing up. Minho grunts and switches to your other nipple, licking and sucking on your skin. Your head falls back more as you grip his head under your shirt. Jisung goes to the door, trying to get his hard on to go away. He opens it, and it's the delivery driver. He pays for the food and gives a tip, taking the bags before shutting the door. He locks it and walks back out to the living room, setting the bags down on the coffee table.

"Food is here, hyung." He settles back in his chair. Minho let out a 'mm' as he was still in your shirt, ravaging your breasts. Jisung watches as he pulls the food out of the bags and sets them on the table. He scrunches his brows together when you moan out as Minho's nips your nipples. Minho lifts your shirt, uncovering your breasts before pulling his head away and recovering your chest. Jisung was able to get a nice view of your breasts because of that.

Jisung clears his throat and looks away as Minho carefully moves you off his lap, his shorts sporting a tent. He grabs your food and hands it to you, looking at Jisung, he grins and winks—knowing how it was affecting his best friend—before he grabs his own and sits back.

"So hyung, your birthday is in a few weeks." Jisung says, turning the TV on.

"Mhmm." Minho pops a piece of chicken in his mouth.

"There anything you want this year?"

"Mmm.." Minho thinks, swallowing his food. He grins mischievously. "There's is something I want. But only if kitten is ok with it." Jisung looks at Minho and raises an eyebrow.

"Anything for you, baby." You smile and eat your food.

"What is that, hyung?" Jisung slowly eats his food, trying to keep his eyes on the tv.

"Remember what I said back on your birthday?" Jisung furrows his eyebrows, gaze shifting to Minho. "I want to see you and kitten go at it. I honestly think that you and her need a good fuck together to get all that pent up anger out of you. Plus.." he looks at you, your chopsticks sitting in your mouth as you stare at him, eyes wide and brows raised. "I'd still love to see my baby girl get railed by my best friend." His dick twitches in his pants at the thought. Jisung coughs at the request and looks at you. You were still staring at Minho, a confused look now on your face.

"Hyung, I still don't think that'll help any." Jisung says as soon as he stops coughing. You look over at Jisung. The images of him kissing you weeks ago come back to you. That night genuinely confused you. Jisung didn't kiss you like he hated you. He seemed to enjoy it. As the memories come back to you, the tips of your ears start turning red, and you're thankful that you left your hair down.

"Just think about it. I won't force you guys to do it, obviously, but just think on it for me." He smiles and continues eating his food. Jisung's eyes flick to you then down to his food. You look back at Minho, questioning him. Minho smiles gently at you, leaning down to softly peck your lips. "Only if you're comfortable with it, kitten." He whispers, pecking your lips again. He smiles and steals a piece of your food before offering you a piece of his.

You all end the night after cleaning up, Jisung going to his own room for the night, finally taking care of his aching cock. You and Minho go to his room for a long love-making session before bed.

——

"Y/nnie?" Felix waves his hand in front of your face, pulling you from your thoughts. You hadn't realized you zoned out and it was already time for lunch.

"Hi, Felix. Yes?" You look up at the blonde.

"Changbin-hyung, Hyunjin and I were going to head out for lunch. Jisung said he was eating here today, and we wanted to ask you if you were coming today." He smiles at you, his smile full of warmth.

"Oh, thank you Lixie, but I brought food today. I can come out tomorrow though?" You return the smile.

"Not a problem. You enjoy your lunch, ok?" He stands up straight and leaves the office, grabbing his jacket. You stand up and stretch, going to your office fridge to grab your food. Chan had mini kitchen areas put in each office to minimize food theft, which was a great idea in your opinion. Thankfully each office had space for it too.

You put your food in the microwave to warm it and take it to the couch in the office, usually used for customers to wait at. Just as you sat down, Jisung walks into the office, it seems he went to the building's cafeteria. He looks at you and nods a little, walking over to where you sat.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" He points to the chair opposite from you, the coffee table between you. You shrug, not like you really can stop him from sitting there. He sits down and opens his container of food. You both eat silently for a few minutes. "So, hyungs birthday is in a week." He chances a glance at you.

"Mhmm." You nod, not looking at him as you eat.

"I…I think we should do what he requested..for his birthday." He says softly. You stop mid bite and look at him. You chew your food and swallow.

"Really? Why? You hate my guts, I hate yours." You wipe your mouth with a napkin.

"I just want hyung happy. Don't you?" His eyebrows scrunch a little. His statement makes you go quiet for a bit.

"No, I do. But I don't know. Fucking you isn't something I've thought of doing." It was a lie. Since the kiss that one night, you've thought about it a few times, but you couldn't let him know that.

"I mean, same." Also a lie. "But if it makes him happy, I'm willing to do it. He's my best friend after all." You sigh and nod.

"Yeah. I want him happy too. So, yeah. Let's do it." You watch him. Jising was honestly really excited about it, but he tried not to show it. He gets up and moves over to the couch next to you.

"We should..we should practice a bit. Get more comfortable with each other since we have a week till the big day." He gingerly puts a hand on your knee.

"Nothing too far since we are at work." You look at him, being stern. He nods and moves closer to you, your legs touching. He reaches up and cups your cheek, looking you in the eyes, his gaze flicking to your lips and back. He slowly leans closer to you, his gaze back on your lips. You feel your neck and ears getting warm with a blush, his breath against your lips before he softly slots his lips with yours.

You move a hand up to his chest, his hands sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck. He deepens the kiss a bit, licking your lips softly. You hesitantly open your mouth and he immediately slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cherries again, and you're thinking it's the chapstick he uses. He slowly makes out with you, taking his time with his tongue in your mouth. He groans a little bit before he softly bites your lower lip.

He pulls away, looking into your eyes when you open them. You were both breathing a little hard and he pulls away completely, his cheeks a little red. You nod and turn back towards the table in front of you. You feel your cheeks burning with a blush creeping up your neck.

"We should..uh..finish our lunch before the rest of the team gets back, yeah?" Jisung says, grabbing his food. You just nod again and eat your food silently. You feel Jisung staring at you the rest of the work day. When Minho picks you two up, he tells you that he's going to drop you and Jisung off at the house, and that he has to run out for a few things, but he will be back in a few hours. You tell him to be careful and that you'll see him when he gets home. You exchange a kiss and a smile and you get out of the car, following Jisung inside the house.

You've never been at the house alone with Jisung before. Minho was always there. You go to the bathroom and remove your makeup before going to Minho's room to change. You put on a pair of your sleep shorts and one of Minho's oversized shirts again. You pad out to the kitchen to find something for dinner. Pulling out leftovers, you warm them up in the microwave. You don't hear Jisung walk in, as you were zoning out again. He stares at you for a moment before stepping up behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your neck, effectively startling you.

"What the fuck, Jisung?" You turn your head and bit to look at him, your eyebrows furrowed.

"Didn't mean to scare you, sorry." He mumbles against your neck. "Trying to get more comfortable again since we don't have to worry about our coworkers walking in." He kisses up your neck to under your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"Just…give a warning next time, fuck." You close your eyes as he gently nips your skin. "No..no marks…not unless Minho says it's ok." You gasp out softly. Jisung just hums a confirmation.

"Can I..touch you?" He asks after a moment, gently squeezing your waist with his arms, fingers digging into your sides softly. You hesitate for a moment before nodding, letting out a whispered 'yes'. "I won't take anything off, I won't even look until Minho's birthday." He kisses across your neck again, sliding a hand to your breast. He gently squeezes your clothed breast, feeling your nipple start to harden through the fabric. He whispers 'so soft' against your neck, making you shiver again.

You bring a hand up to his head, gently gripping his hair as you lean back against his chest, he presses himself against you. Your cheeks flush when you feel his cock against your ass. He moves his head to the other side of your neck and starts leaving wet, open mouthed kisses along your warm skin. You let out soft, quiet moans, feeling his hands slide down your body to under the shirt you wear. His hands feel cool against your skin as he trails his hands up to your breasts. You physically shiver against him and he chuckles. Jisung gently cups your breasts, his breath shudders against you at the same time you gasp.

He quietly groans against your neck. He is resisting the urge to bite and mark you, as much as he wants to, he wants to respect your decision. Just as he starts to massage your breasts, the microwave beeps, indicating your food is done. It pulls you both back to where you are. Jisung pulls away, pulling his hands off you and stepping back. You shiver at the loss of his warmth.

"You should uh..you should eat. I'm going to um..I'm gonna go shower." Jisung mumbles out behind you before he turns and quickly leaves the kitchen. You stand in the same spot, cheeks and neck flushed. You blink a few times before stepping towards the microwave to grab your food. You sit at the kitchen island and eat. You clean up and sit in the living room, watching tv until Minho gets back. He greets you with a smile and you smile back. He holds up a bag from a store that sells expensive alcohol.

"Decided to get some for my birthday." He laughs out and goes to put everything away. You get up and follow him, helping to put things in their place. Jisung had finished his shower and went back to his room to get dressed. Once everything is put away, Minho turns to face you, a smile across his face. He picks you up and gently sits you on the counter, now having to look up at you.

"How was work today, kitten? Jisung didn't cause any trouble for you?" He steps between your legs, placing his hands on your hips. You shake your head, just as Jisung steps into the kitchen.

"When do I ever cause trouble, hyung?" He runs his fingers through his slightly damp hair, opening the fridge. He was shirtless again, just wearing a pair of gray sweatpants low on his hips.

"All the time." You retort. "But no, he's been…pretty good at work." You play with your boyfriend's hair.

"What about while I was gone?" He looks towards his friend, whose head was still in the fridge.

"He was…ok. Didn't cause too much trouble." Your boyfriend laughs at that, turning back to you. He leans forward and softly starts kissing your throat. Jisung grabs some food out of the fridge, shutting the door before going to the microwave. Jisung looks at you then at Minho before looking at the microwave.

"Hyung?" He puts his food in to warm.

"Mhmm?" Minho kisses around your neck, kissing your jaw.

"Y/n and I..we thought about what you said. About what you wanted for your birthday." He watches his food spin in the machine.

"Mhmm." Minho gently bites the crook of your neck, making you moan softly, leaving a small hickey there. You don't catch it, but Jisung's cock twitches in his pants.

"We both decided that..we will do it for you. We both want you happy, and if this makes you happy, then we will." Jisung turns around a bit, so his growing bulge won't be visible.

"I want you guys to do this too, because you want to." Minho bites your skin again. "Don't do it solely for my sake." He starts to slide his hands up your borrowed shirt, making you shiver. Jisung just hums out an 'ok'.

"I'm going to go eat in my room. I'll see you both in the morning." Jisung grabs his food from the microwave and goes back to his room, not shutting the door all the way. Minho slips the shirt off you, looking you over, just marveling at you. You smile at him, watching his eyes trail across you. He starts to tug at your shorts, pulling them and your panties off when you lift your hips.

"Gonna fuck you right here, kitten. Missed your pussy all day." He pulls you towards the edge of the counter. He undoes his pants, pulling them and his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans when the cool air hits his shaft. He slides one hand between your legs, slipping two fingers into your cunt, smirking at how wet you are. You close your eyes and moan out. He slowly starts to finger you, pumping his cock with his other hand. He pulls his fingers out and puts his tip at your entrance.

"You ready for me, kitten?" He slips his tip into you.

"Y-yes, baby." You wrap your legs around his hips as he slides into you slowly.

"So nice and warm for me.." he mumbles as he slides his length into you. He kisses you deeply once he bottoms out. "My good little kitten." He whispers against your lips. You shiver and moan his name softly. He chuckles. Holding your hips, he slowly starts to thrust into you. You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning his name out again. He leans down and sucks on your neck again. Picking up the pace of his hips, he grinds into you, his cock rubbing against your clit at the angle he grinds in at.

You gasp and arch your back, the knot in your belly tightens quickly. You moan out as you clench around Minho. He grins and chuckles against your neck. He sucks on your neck, fucking into you hard and deep.

"My good little kitten. Such a good girl." He leaves a large hickey on your collarbone. You arch your back and moan his name loud as you cum, clenching hard around Minho's cock. He groans against your neck as he thrusts deep once more before cumming in you. He thrusts into you a few more times as he empties inside you. You lay your head on his shoulder and breathe hard. Minho gently rubs your sides, hips and thighs, your legs still wrapped around him as he was still buried deep inside you.

"How about a shower, kitten? Get you all nice and clean." Minho peppers your shoulder with soft feather-like kisses. You nod and let out a soft 'mhmm'. He smiles and gently picks you up off the counter as you tighten your grip on him. He grabs your laundry off the counter and walks out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom. Just as Minho passes Jisung's door, the younger one opens it to bring his dishes out. Minho winks at him, holding you close to his chest.

Jisung's cheeks flush a bit when he notices you're naked. Your boyfriend enters the bathroom with you and sits you on the sink, your eyes closed as you were tired. He starts the shower and Jisung watches for a moment, looking both you and Minho over before he goes to the kitchen. Once the shower is ready, Minho undresses and picks you up again, stepping in with you. Jisung goes back to his room, another tent in his pants. Once Minho cleans you up, he washes himself up before getting you both ready for bed. You cuddle up to him and fall asleep quickly.

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@tenshimara

[whatifitis]

♡ I watched it begin again - LN 4 ♡

Summary: You've moved on and found happiness... when Lando reappears and tells you something you truly never expected to hear, but something you had also wished for for so long.

Author's Note: this is the much awaited part 2 to 'i wish you would've stay'. i wanna say a quick thank you to those who read part 1 and shared your thoughts on it, it really made me feel so special 😭 this part would not have been written without yall <3

WC: 2415

CW: fluff, maybe a very little amount of angst? pettiness, if you squint there's a sort of thrupple, or whatever the 4 count of that word is, hinting, overuse of song references

“Okay, I think it’s done.”

“Yay! I can finally see this masterpiece you’ve created.” you smiled. 

“Eh, masterpiece is a bit of a reach. But I definitely tried my hardest to capture your beautiful soul.”

“Ohhh, shush you. Flattering me so much.”

“It’s so you don’t hate me after you see this monstrosity.”

“Okay, enough yapping. Show me.” 

You watched as he took a deep breath and turned the sketchbook towards you.

“Oh. My. God.” you try to stifle your laugh. 

“Why are you laughing?” Gabe chuckled. 

“I’m not laughing. It’s beautiful. Oh my- Where were you when it was time for senior photos?”

“No. Fuck off. That’s rude.” you watched as Gabe tossed a pillow at you and tried to refrain from laughing as hard as you are. 

You were laughing so hard it was getting hard to breathe and tears were rolling down your face. Being with Gabe always felt so high school in a way. There was no pressure or drama within this place. It was just love. 

You and Gabe have been dating for a little over a year and it’s been the greatest time of your life. When the two of you met, you really weren’t looking for anything. You were focused on work and getting your life in line when he happened. 

Since he’s come into your life, it’s like everythings brighter. And while that may sound cliche, it’s true. He makes everything feel miniscule, like as long as he’s there at the end of the day, everything will be okay. 

He was something new as well. For so long, you had spent your time around boys and their expensive cars like range rovers and Aston Martins, but Gabe is just Gabe. He’s a real person who enjoys the same things that you do and he truly loves you for you. And he loves spending time with you. On your first date, he wasn’t ready for the date to be over, so he asked you to walk around Kohl’s with him. And still, to this day, he asks if you want to walk around Kohl’s together, just for a few more moments with you. 

He was the king of your heart.   

“Oh shit, I gotta get going. I have that meeting with Matt tomorrow about working on that album.” Gabe said as he stood up from the couch and stretched, “Can we meet for lunch? I don’t think I can wait all day to see you again.” pulling you closer to him, softly gripping your waist. 

“Definitely, I might be a bit late cause I need to talk to Marjorie about letting me in on that case.” 

“Amazing.” he said as he pressed his lips to yours, feeling your soft lips on his and pouring himself into you. 

The two of you pull apart and you walk him to the door of your apartment. 

“See you tomorrow, my love.” 

“Call me when you get home, please.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Gabe jokes, “At home, I’ve got to greet the most demanding and most precious person in my life. She deserves all my attention.”

“Olive is a cat and she is far from precious.”

“You’re just jealous she prefers lying on me rather than you.”

“We’re girls! There’s a girl code and she’s not sticking to it.”

“I’ll see if I can talk some sense into her then. For the love of my life.” Gabe says, pecking your lips one final time before walking off. 

“Save some time for me.” you called out. 

“All my time is yours, my darling.” 

He turns the corner and once he’s out of sight, you step back into your apartment and close the door. You turn your back to press against the door and you couldn’t help the giddy smile that spread across your face. Even after all this time, he still makes your heart skip. 

You started to get ready for bed and had just settled into your bedsheets when your phone started playing your ringtone for Gabe, ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ by Rick Astley. You don’t remember exactly how it became one of your songs, but it somehow made its way there. You’d even joked with him how if the two of you ever broke up, you hoped that Rick Rolling would become a thing again so that he would be tormented with the thought of you. 

You picked up the phone to hear some shuffling on the other line. “Hello?” you call out. 

“Hey, sorry. I was just taking off my jacket. I made it home.”

“Amazing. How’s home?” 

“It’s okay. Would be better if you were here with me.”

“You just spent all day with me. Are you not sick of me?” you half-joked. 

“I could never be sick of you. You’re my favorite thing the universe gifted us on earth.”

“Stop. You’re gonna make me cry.”

“I’m sorry, my love. I don’t like making you cry, unless it’s from laughter. Ya know, you’re really pretty when you laugh.”

“Only when I laugh?” you poke. 

“Nuh uh. You’re always pretty. So pretty that it almost kills me. But I really like it when you laugh. Especially when I’m the one making you laugh.”

“I like it when you make me laugh too.” you are practically melting at this man's words. He always has you wrapped around his finger and you think he knows. But little do you know, that’s how he feels about you. 

You turn to look at the clock by your bedside and sigh. Even after having him all day, somehow you just want him more. 

“I gotta go to sleep now, my angel. If I sleep now, I can get at least 7 hours of sleep.” you huff. 

“You should really sleep earlier so you can actually sleep well. We both know you’re not sleeping 7 hours with your sleeping habits.”

“Yeahhhh. Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow, darling.” 

“I’ll be waiting, love.” 

The silence sounds after the beep. Was this what true love felt like? Is this how it feels to be loved? How long has it been since someone made you feel like this? For a while, you thought the plane was going down. But someway, somehow, Gabe turned it right around. He would literally break his back to make you break a smile. For the first time ever, you were falling in love with someone who was falling in love with you. 

The next morning, after some strenuous phone calls and exhausting meetings, you excitedly made your way to the restaurant you were meeting Gabe at. You were running a bit early so you decided to take the scenic route to the restaurant, knowing Gabe wouldn’t be there for another 20 minutes. 

You were enjoying the afternoon sun and the fresh air that came with it when you heard something from behind, “Y/n?” 

Why does this person sound familiar? He sounds like… like someone but you can’t quite place your finger on it. 

“Y/n, is that you?” 

When you turn to see who it is, you’re met with them. Those eyes, the eyes you used to dream of. But now they look different, they look so dull and tired. His frame looks lighter and his smile looks torn. 

“Lando?”

“Wow, you look, I mean you look beautiful. You haven’t changed a bit since the last time I saw you.” he says, giving you a soft, shy smile. 

“Yeah. It’s been quite some time.” “Sorry. Uh, how have you been?” 

“I’ve been good. Really good, actually. How about you? How’s Hannah?”

“I’ve been okay and ehm, Hannah and I broke up last year.”

“Oh no. I’m sorry to hear. But I’m sure you’ll find someone. There’s plenty of fish in the sea, as they say.”

“Yeah. I’ve actually been thinking about you recently. Like, a lot.” he softly huffs. 

“Oh.”

“I’ve been meaning to reach out but I wasn’t sure how. I’m actually glad I ran into you now.”

“Lando, I think you-”

“No, please. Let me explain myself, please.”

You stood there for a beat, not knowing that to say. You couldn’t get a single word out. Why? It was just Lando. 

He watches your face, trying to study it and read what you’re thinking, but he can’t, “I have a lot to get off my chest. I won’t take long. Please.”

“Okay.”

With a deep inhale, Lando begins “I fucked up. Big time. I never should have, essentially, ghosted you. All you ever did was love me and care for me. But I just went off and dated another girl cause I didn’t realize it at the time. Y/n, if we’re being honest, I’m still in love with you. And it took a long time for me to realize. Everything is nothing without you. I’m nothing without you. I miss you so much and I regret ever letting you go. Can we start fresh, please? I won’t let you go this time. I’ll hold you closer than I ever did before.”

“I can’t. You hurt me a lot. It took me so long to realize I was going to be okay without you. It took me a long time to realize that it wasn’t my fault for you leaving. That I am good enough and capable of being loved. I’m happy now. I found someone that I love and who loves me. Like, truly loves me. He made me realize that nothing was wrong with me.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you were seeing someone. But, does he really make you happy? Happier than I ever made you?” there are tears brimming his eyes. 

“Yeah, he does. I don’t get it, Lando. I was happy for you when you met Hannah, why can’t you be happy for me?” 

“Because I know you still feel something for me. And I truly believe that the universe brought us here today for a reason. Our story isn’t over, y/n.”

“It is over. You can say we’ll be together someday, but things have changed. We’re not the same people we were before and I found my person.”

“So why can’t I stop feeling this way?” he says, a tear slipping down his face. “Because you’re human.” you say, reaching your hand to cup the side of his face, but you don’t. You stop yourself before your fingertips can feel his skin beneath yours because it isn’t fair to him. 

“Do you regret me?” he asks through a wavering voice. 

“No, I don’t regret you. You were one of the most beautiful chapters of my life and you taught me a lot. You know, I used to look for you in a sea of people, knowing you weren’t there. It’s kinda stupid cause we never really existed but-” “We did exist. Just not in the way we should’ve. The way we could’ve if I wasn’t a massive fuck up.”

“You’re not a fuck up. Listen, there was happiness because of you and there was happiness after you. That’s just the way life goes. So there will be happiness after this.’’

“I don’t want there to be an after you. I’m trying my best. I pray that you’ll come back to me one day. And if you do, I’ll give up my hopes and dreams in F1 cause I’ll have my biggest dream of all. You.”

“You can’t change things by loving someone harder. I used to wish you would’ve stayed. But this isn’t a fairytale where you’re my knight in shining armor. I found someone who actually treats me well. And the cost of trying isn’t greater than the reward of having me, to him. He actually loves me and wants to be with me. I used to be so naive and I would get so lost in your eyes, I didn’t realize that being in love wasn’t fighting to have the upper hand.” 

He’s near sobbing when he tells you, “I want to believe I haven’t lost you.”

“I’ll always be here for you. But I can’t be with you. It’s too late, Lando. My heart doesn’t soften to your name anymore.”

“Do you think there’s even a slight possibility that you could fall in love with me again?”

You look at him. This was the boy you once loved. The one you would’ve done anything for, even after everything he’d done. You used to wait for him to love you again. But now all you see is the boy who broke your heart and left you bereft and reeling. 

“No. I hope you find love, Lando. I really do. But it won’t be me. Not anymore.”

With that, you turn your back to him and walk away. It might’ve been harsh, but you couldn’t stand there any longer. The result wouldn't be different if you’d stayed longer and comforted him. You’re happy with Gabe and he has never given you a reason to doubt him. You’d been hurt enough by Lando. But every little moment led you right to where you should be. 

When you finally arrived at the restaurant, Gabe was already there. When he sees you, it’s like he saw you for the first time. There was a sparkle in his eyes and the toothiest grin spread across his face. 

He stands to greet you with a kiss that could heal every wound that might have reopened today. He pulls a chair out for you and takes his seat right at your side. 

“Hi, baby.”

“Hi. I’m sorry I’m late. It’s a long story and I can tell you all about it later. Right now I just want it to be us. Let the world fade away for a bit.”

“Sounds like a plan then. I already ordered your Coke with a lime. It should be on its way.” Gabe says as he plants a thousand soft kisses on your hand. He’s been doing it a lot lately, now that you think about it. 

“You’ve been kissing my hand a lot recently. Why?” you ask out of curiosity. 

“Because whenever I kiss your hand, you hold my face.” 

Gabe is a daydream and you’re the one he’s walking to. You think he’s the one thing you got right. 

You hear your phone ping on the table. You quickly open it to mute it for your lunch date but the text on the screen catches your eye. 

Oscah: So should Lily and I meet you guys at your place or ours? 😉 

Those who wanted to be tagged in part 2: @f1fantasys @jxnellat @hoeforsirius @nina-or-anna-or-nora @sturmatt @hurtblossom

[deusfoundry]

Hii again, sorry if I'm asking for a lot of Cedric requests (you can ignore this if you'd like). But there's this idea that's been plaguing my mind, where Cedric has always been told he has a lovely, charming, or beautiful smile that brightens up people's day or anything of the sort. But to him he doesn't really know what people mean when they say that. Until he sees reader's smile that just instanyly brightens up his day. "7 billion smiles, but yours is my favorite"

Thank you for reading thiss

hi nonnie! im assuming you're also the one who sent the ced request i got prior to this one and if so, please dont apologize!! i truly adore this man and i love writing for him! i hope i was able to do your prompt justice w this one eheh MWAH <333

if cedric's got a sickle for every time someone has told him he had a pretty smile, he'd be bloody rich by age fourteen.

he's heard it from everyone. from strangers on the street, older men with a head full of gray hair seeing a reflection of themselves decades ago in his youthful eyes. from letters he'd find slipped into his bag, secret admirers waxing poetic about his smile, how it had been enough to make the hour and a half they spend in snape's class bearable, how seeing him from across the great hall at dinner was the one thing they look forward to the most.

he's heard it first, and perhaps most often, from his own mother, who'd take his cheeks into her hands and look at him as if she's holding the entire galaxy between her palms.

"you've got the loveliest smile, my dear boy. never lose it."

but he doesn't know what it means, to have a smile that brightens up the room. he can't wrap his mind around how one tiny smile can be enough to rid someone free of the burdens they accumulate as dawn turns to dusk.

cedric doesn't understand until he finds himself tucked in a corner of the library, buried under a mountain of books and parchment on what's supposed to be a weekend spent at hogsmeade.

he normally has a better hand at managing his responsibilities, but the combination of head boy duties, quidditch season starting in two weeks, and the workload that comes with n.e.w.t. level classes has made it impossible to do anything but thank merlin that he even manages to get through a single day.

cedric fights the urge to groan as he feels the seeds of an all familiar headache sprouting. an invisible force pounds against his head, a faint thud every few seconds that sends a twitch to his eye, but he knows it won't take long until he feels like an ogre is bashing his head against the thick books laying in front of him.

he wishes nothing more than for you to be here, with your own share of work, filling the stifling silence of his own little corner of the library with your frantic scribbling on parchment.

you'd let him take a break by now, body slumping against yours as he slots his head on the crook of your neck. he would breathe you in, greedily, and bite back a grin when you giggle at the ticklish feeling of his nose brushing against your skin. your fingers would find themselves tangled with his hair, tugging at the roots and digging at his scalp with enough pressure to release the tension on his shoulders.

he needs you, overwhelmingly so, but your friends had already whisked you off to hogsmeade before he could even ask if you'd want to join him.

at this point, he'd much rather take the ogre than spend another second alone.

"there you are."

cedric's head snaps towards the direction of your voice. he knows you're talking, watches the open and close of your mouth and the almost animated expressions your face dons as you approach him, but he's not hearing any of it.

he sees your smile, a reflection of the sun and the stars, and finally, he understands just how powerful it can be. he remains in a trance even as you clear a spot on the table for you to sit. his body moves entirely on auto-pilot, thighs spreading apart to make way for your legs as he drags himself and his chair closer to you. you've barely touched him, and yet he feels as if he's being pulled into a warm embrace by the clouds as you fish for his hand, locking your fingers together.

"love? are you alright?"

cedric swiftly slides his arms around your waist. he rests his head on your lap and hopes that the quiet hum he lets out is enough to quell your worries.

"better, bug. now that you're here."

vividly, he can imagine the face you make. a grimace in feigned disgust, your bottom lip between your teeth as you try to hold back a giggle.

"that's cheesy, ced." you give his head a light shove before running your fingers through his hair, to which cedric responds with a laugh and the tightening of his arms. he's given you no chance of escape, palms clutching onto the flesh.

"it's the truth."

and it is. if your smile had been enough to ease the ache in his body, brighten his day despite his workload that refuses to decrease, what more now that he's got you in his arms.