#I thought I was in love with my best friend

[lovecla]

FAVORITE KIND OF NIGHT ; HUGHES, SLAFKOVSKÝ

PAIR jack hughes x fem!reader, quinn hughes x fem!reader, juraj slafkovský x fem!reader, ex-cole caufield x fem!reader

SUMMARY when you found out your boyfriend of two years had been cheating on you the entire time, you do what every girl does when they get cheated on: you fuck his best friends.

WORD COUNT 5,5k

WARNINGS taboo content, cheating, foursome (f/m/m/m), p in v, unprotected sex, degradation, mention of stomach bulge, creampie, double p in v, rough sex, manhandling, dirty talk, humiliation, subspace, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), gagging, dacryphilia, brief aftercare.

FROM ME TO YOU my loves, listen to your clara very carefully: if you do not agree with ANY of what’s written here, please consider not reading. this is just a silly idea i had a few days ago and i wanted to write about it. i have zero intentions of offending anyone: this is pure fiction! none of this is real! anyways, thank you @cyberhughes for listening to my naughty thoughts about this plot and for having my back. love you juni baby, this one’s for you <3 and for those who are still here, have a nice reading!

𖧷

on that lonely night, said it wouldn't be love

but we felt the rush (fell in love)

it made us believe it was only us

THE THING about being a hockey girlfriend is that you will, most certainly, get cheated on.

When you first heard that, you thought it was just bullshit— not all men are the same and all of that. Some people were just unfortunate to have shitty boyfriends, but not you.

Or at least that’s what you thought before watching a viral video of your boyfriend of two years kissing three different girls at a party.

The video was blurry, and maybe if you were a little bit more naive, you wouldn’t have noticed that the man eating those girls’ lips was, in fact, Cole Caufield, the man you swore to be the love of your life.

“Maybe it’s not him, Y/n,” your friend said, voice soft and gentle, as she put your phone down and locked it. “Cole wouldn’t do that… right?”

Right, you want to say. Of course he wouldn’t do that.

But you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to lie and betray your own trust. You sat there, on your couch, thinking about what you were going to do.

Your relationship was public, Cole had already posted pictures of you several times over the years, but now, so was the fact that he cheated on you with not just one girl, but with two more.

Now, everyone knows that you got cheated on, and that you weren’t an exception to the Hockey rule.

“‘s okay,” you sniff, cleaning your nose with your sweater’s sleeve. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t, really, but what else could you do?

Truth is, even though you love— loved?— Cole a lot, you had been feeling a little bit weird. Cole didn’t seek you anymore, he didn’t look at you the same way he used to do when you first started dating.

You thought it was just the fact that he was tired and feeling responsible for his team’s recklessness, but clearly, it wasn’t just that.

Days passed after the terrible, awful video, and even though you hadn’t spoken to Cole in probably two weeks— he was away and you couldn’t bring yourself to answer his texts—, you wanted to break things up with him in person.

“Why would you do that?” Your friend asked over the phone, and you sighed.

“Because I’m better than he is,” you say. “And because I need to get closure.”

“I guess you’re right,” she sighs, and then she’s quiet for a few seconds. But, “I need to tell you something.”

“What?” You ask, rolling to your side. “What is it?”

“There’s going to be a party at Zegras’ place tonight,” she says. “Heard Cole shit ass is going.”

“Who told you that?”

“I was talking to one of his new buddies, and he invited me to the party. Said I could go if I kept my mouth shut to you,” she scoffed. “I thought about telling him to hell and then telling him to fuck himself but I thought it might be more useful to pretend I wasn’t going to tell you anything and then tell you everything.”

You chuckled. “Yeah. We’re going, then?”

“We so are going,” she giggles. “I’ll bring the eggs.”

“I’ll bring the flour.”

𖧷

THE PARTY looked more like a frat party than anything, which lowkey disgusted you.

You knew the majority of the players were young and still in their teenager mindset, but whenever you went to a party, it usually had more decorum than whatever this was.

The music was so loud you couldn’t hear your friend talking next to you. People were grinding against each other like they were in heat and ready to fuck in front of everyone, and the room had a strong smell of marijuana and cheap beer.

You rolled your eyes but focused on your reason to be there: find Cole, break up with him and maybe even embarrass him in front of all of his friends.

You tried to warn your friend about where you were going, but since the music was too loud, you just signaled to the door on your right. She nodded, and you moved around the room, feeling with your feet the way the floor shook with the song’s thrumming.

Fortunately, you didn’t have to walk much. Cole’s stupid ass seemed to have forgotten to close his room’s door, and now you were staring at the 5’8” man you thought was going to be the father of your kids, kissing another girl.

“So, this looks really fun, huh?” You said, closing the room’s door, and suddenly, all of the eyes were on you. Cole’s included.

“Y-Y/n, what,” he stutters, removing the girl from his lap and getting up. “What are you doing here, baby?”

“No, what are you doing here?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, feeling yourself start to burn with anger. “Weren’t you supposed to be in New York?”

“No, you see—”

“Is your name New York, sweetie?” You ask the girl who was previously kissing him, who looks like a scared, little kitten. Little does she know you’re not going after her— you couldn't care less about her. “Uh, I guess not.”

There were at least eight other people in the room, sitting there and goofing around. But now, all of them looked like they would pay a hundred thousand bucks not to be in Cole’s shoes.

“Y/n—” he tries again, reaching for your arm.

You step back, flinching away from his touch. “Don’t fucking touch me, Cole. You’re fucking sick. I hope y’all have fun,” you hiss, turning around and heading towards the room’s door again. You look over your shoulder, watching Cole’s sorrowful face. “Enjoy as much as you can, darling. I know his dick won’t make you happy.”

You leave the room with fast steps, not before hearing Cole’s so-called friends laugh out loud with your words. You could feel yourself burning with anger, which made you happy. You thought you were going to feel destroyed, sad and depressed when you confronted him about the fact that he cheated on you regularly.

But after seeing his pathetic expression and actions, you realised you weren’t the one who should be feeling that way.

Your legs were moving on their own, and when you noticed, you were on the second floor, barging in another room, opening its door with full strength.

Only to blush even more, this time not with anger, no.

“Oh, hey there, Y/n. Where’s the fire?”

Jack’s sarcastic tone made you hold the door’s handle tighter, and when you looked around, you felt like a fish out of its tank.

The room was poorly lit, only the yellow light from the lamps reflected on the dark walls of the room, making the environment seem more intimate than it really was.

There were sofas along the room, and low music was playing, probably coming from one of the cell phones.

Because not only Jack Hughes was there, but his oldest brother, Quinn and Juraj Slafkovský.

You didn’t even know Quinn and Jack got along with Slaf, yet there they were, sitting and chatting with each other like they weren’t all rivals during the weekdays.

They laughed with Jack’s little remark before Quinn said: “You can come in, we don’t bite.”

“Unless you want to.” Juraj was the one who said this, to your ultimate surprise, and you rolled your eyes, doing as they said and getting in, closing the door behind you.

“Dude, come on,” Jack laughs. “She has a boyfriend.”

“Not anymore,” you say, for the first time since you opened the door. You eyed the drink cart in the corner of the room, taking full steps towards it and opening the first bottle you say. Whiskey. Great. “I just broke up with Cole, actually.”

There was a second of silence before you heard some clapping behind you, which made you turn around and stare at the grown men sitting across the room.

“What’s this clapping for?” You ask.

“It was about time, Y/n, what the hell,” Juraj says. “Guy’s been cheating on you for months.”

“And you guys didn’t think of, I don’t know, maybe give me a heads up?” You ask, sarcasm pouring out of your mouth while you pour the alcoholic drink in the glass sitting on the wooden surface. Then, you walk until you’re sitting beside Quinn and Juraj. “Would’ve been nice.”

“Sorry,” Quinn says, poking your shoulder. “In my defense, I wasn’t around enough to know he was cheating.”

“In my defense,” Jack starts. “I don’t like him.”

“In my defense,” Juraj finishes, opening his legs and resting his arms behind his head. “I couldn’t do it, because I would’ve been called a homewrecker.”

You almost choked on your drink. “What?!”

“You know I’ve been wanting to fuck you for ages now,” he sighs, like he’s tired of saying that; like he’s been saying that for a long time now. “But you can’t exactly fuck your homie’s girlfriend, can you?”

“Word.” Jack says, leaning forward to fist bumping Juraj. Quinn only chuckles and you can’t believe your eyes.

You’ve known all of them for basically the same amount of time, and you liked them a lot. Jack was a little, teasing shit, way too different from Quinn, but he was funny and so were his brothers— hanging out with them was always fun.

Quinn was private but sweet, probably one of your favorite people in the league. His soft spoken demeanor had made its way into your heart and was now stuck there, for the rest of your life, probably.

And Juraj was an old friend, someone you knew even before you started dating Cole— he was the reason you and Cole got together in the first place.

So hearing that one of your closest friends wants to have sex with you is weird, especially because he had just confessed that in front of two other men.

You stare at them, incredulous. “What are you even talking about?”

“Come on, Y/n, you can’t be this oblivious,” Jack grunts, and you tilt your head, confused. “You didn’t notice the way he looks at you?”

“Fuck you, Hughes,” Slaf curses, giving him the middle finger. “Like you’re one to talk. Everyone knows you’re head over heels for her and you know which head I’m talking about.”

Quinn laughs like what Slaf said had been the funniest thing he’d heard in a while, while Jack simply shrugs and looks at you with expectant eyes.

“You are all drunk. That’s the only explanation I can find,” you say, still choosing not to see what is right in front of you. “And I’m about to be the next one.”

You took just one sip before Quinn wrapped his hand around your glass and took it out of your hands. You were about to complain and ask him what happened when he shook his head, clicking his tongue. “We are not drunk, Y/n. And we don’t want you to be.”

“What? Why not?” You ask. “I promise I’m not that type of person who talks about their love life when they’re drunk. I might talk about Tik Tok memes, though.”

“That’s worse than talking about your shit ass love life,” Jack murmurs and you turn around to look at him with angry eyes. “What?” He asks, grinning, with his hands in the air.

“It’s not my fault I can’t find the right guys,” you sigh, resting your head on Quinn’s shoulder like you’re used to doing. “Why do men suck?”

“Not all of them do, sweets.” Quinn says, placing his hand on your naked thigh, making you blush faintly.

“We don’t.” Juraj murmurs beside you, and you hum.

“Well,” you say, measuring your words. “Unfortunately, I can’t have any of you. So, yeah, I still have the same problem.”

“Who said you can’t have any of us?” Juraj says, and you lift your head, furrowing your eyebrows at him. “Or even better, all of us.”

There’s a beat of silence. The room is suddenly too warm for you, and even if you’re just wearing a skirt and a crop top, you still feel yourself starting to get sweaty.

The song is still playing, an unknown melody reverberating through the room, and what once felt big and spacious suffocates you now.

“You guys. You can’t be serious… right?” You ask, looking at each and every single one of them in the eye.

Jack is the first one to break the silence. “Come on, Y/n. Haven’t you ever thought about us like that?”

You can feel their eyes on you as you think of what to answer. You can’t say you haven’t— that would be a lie. You were loyal to Cole and you loved him, but you weren’t blind.

And now that you’re really thinking, these guys hadn’t been particularly sleek either; Jack with his obsession with calling you pet names, Quinn finding any and every excuse to touch you whenever you were in the same room and Juraj eye-fucking you from afar while you cuddled with his teammate.

So yeah, you have wondered about it before, but it all sounded so insane you didn’t think about it twice. The odds of all four of them liking you were pretty low, so why bother fooling yourself with these kinds of thoughts?

But now, you were sitting in the same room as them, with Juraj’s arm touching yours, Quinn’s hand running up and down your leg, and Jack’s eyes on you, like you were a prey or something similar.

“We can’t do that,” you whisper, trying your hardest to hold onto that single piece of sanity and morals you still had. “You guys are insane. Jack, Quinn’s your brother.” You reason, expecting to knock some sense into them.

Quinn squeezes your thigh slightly. “It wouldn’t be our first time.”

“Besides, it’s fine because we’re not going to fuck each other,” Jack says, like he’s telling you the sky’s blue. “I’m going to fuck you.”

“We are going to fuck you,” Juraj corrects, and you close your eyes, holding your hands together on your lap, trying to keep them still. “What do you say, chéri?” He asks, getting dangerously close to your neck, his strong, masculine scent making your head spin. His lips briefly touch your neck, the contact so light you wouldn’t feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of your surroundings.

Quinn’s warm, big hand is moving up, up and up, and that startles you.

You get up, panting as hard as if you had ran an entire marathon, and you stand in the middle of the room, surrounded by them. By your friends who had just asked to fuck you.

“I can’t— I can’t do this,” you whisper. “What about Cole, what about—”

“Sweetheart, Cole is probably balls deep inside someone else right now,” Quinn replies, and the others hum in agreement. “If you don’t want it because you don’t want to, it’s fine, you know we’d never force you. But,” he spreads his thighs, the outline of his cock is visible and right there for you to see. You gulp, not sure of what to do. “If you don’t want to do it because you still believe Cole deserves your kindness, then I have to say—”

“You’re being dumb,” Juraj finishes Quinn’s sentence, smirking. “You’ll be crying over one small cock when you have three waiting for you. It’s your pick, really.”

Your head is spinning and you feel aware of your body, which is something you hate. You can feel your arms and legs starting to give in, and to your absolute horror and panic, you can feel your underwear start to get sticky.

You walk towards the door, ready to leave, ready to put this night behind and pretend this was all a fever dream, and never think about this again. But, as you grab the handle, you know you won’t be able to forget this, not even if you wanted to.

So, you stop being a hypocrite, and grab the door’s key, locking the door once, and then twice, before exhaling and turning around again.

All three of them are staring at you, with the same expression; lust. It’s sinful and you are certain that you’re going to hell for this, but as you start to get undressed, right there, in the middle of the room, for all of them to see, you can’t help but feel like what you’re doing is nothing but right.

You remove your crop top, pulling the fabric over your head and dropping it on the floor, shivering slightly when the cold breeze hits your naked skin. You do the same with your skirt, letting it fall around your feet like a river, leaving you standing with only your bra and lace underwear in front of them.

“Fuck.” You hear one of them say, you’re not sure who, the word nothing but a whisper.

Juraj is the first one to get up, and get his hands on you. He’s rough, hungry and not careful at all, something you’re not used to but like it anyway.

His lips are on yours almost instantly, and his hands are holding you down while he licks and sucks your mouth. He tastes like some kind of candy you’ve had before, and your brain is screaming that what you’re doing is wrong, so wrong and that you literally just broke up with your boyfriend of two years not even thirty minutes ago but you can’t stop.

It’s maddening, it’s addictive and you want more.

It gets worse when you feel another pair of hands on your back, unclamping your bra. You hear a soft tud, which you can only assume is your bralette hitting the floor. Then, there are hands squeezing your tits, hands almost as rough as Slaf’s, and it has you moaning inside his mouth.

“So fucking soft,” you hear Jack say behind you as he gets closer, his hard dick poking your ass over your underwear. “Tits so fucking soft for us, baby.”

And he pinches both of your nipples, making you whimper loud and separate your lips from Juraj’s. There’s a saliva string connecting both of you and it makes you feel nasty.

He gives you a brief peck before gently slapping your thighs twice, silently asking you to remove your underwear, which you promptly do. You slide your lace panties over your legs, shyly throwing them away from you.

It’s only then that you notice Quinn staring at you from the couch, half naked with his dick out of his boxers— the thought of him getting off only by watching you makes you squeeze your thighs together, to stop your hole from clenching around nothing.

“Let’s get you wet and ready, alright?” Juraj says, manhandling you around like you were just a toy for him to break, until your back touched the cold, wooden surface of the table sitting in the middle of the dark room. You arch your back, pouting with the coldness and Slaf coos at you. “I’m sorry there isn’t anything more comfortable than this.”

“Like she cares about comfort,” Quinn snorts. “The only thing she’s worried about it’s whether she’s taking one or two cocks in that greedy pussy of hers.”

The humiliation Quinn’s words bring you is almost unbearable, yet it has you dripping anyway. Their laughs, the way they’re all staring at you like some piece of meat makes you feel hot all over.

Juraj lays you down carefully, only to spread your legs open with the same roughness he used before, when his lips were on yours. You yelped, feeling exposed and embarrassed— your bare, glistening pussy was on display for all three of them to see.

“Holy shit,” you hear someone say, Juraj maybe, and you cringe, hiding your face with your hands. “She’s perfect.”

“We’ll see about that,” you hear Jack say behind you and you remove your hands from your face. Suddenly, he’s sliding his pants down, his dick touching his covered abs as wraps his fist around his length, slowly jerking off in front of you.

You’re watching it in awe, even as you stare at him upside down, since your head is hanging off the table’s edge. He smirks down at you at the same time Juraj licks your clenching hole, making you moan for the first time, loud and involuntary.

“Ah.”

“Shit,” you hear Slaf say. “Pussy so fucking wet and sweet. Y/n, you’ll drive me crazy.”

You don’t answer; not because you don’t want to but because Jack places his hands on both sides of your cheeks, squeezing them together until your mouth forms the perfect O and he can slide his entire dick inside it.

He moans noisily as you gag on his long dick. It’s an unexpected feeling, to have your throat fucked like this— Cole wasn’t a big fan of messy, rough blowjobs— but fuck if it doesn’t get you wetter.

Juraj is still working hard on your pussy, licking your folds and throbbing clit, eating it with a loud slurp, the sound of your wetness making you close your eyes with pleasure and shame.

“Your mouth feels so good, pretty,” Jack moans behind you, still holding your head in place while he drags his dick through your throat. Your eyes are wet with unshed tears and you feel your mouth so full it is starting to hurt. “Almost as tight as a pussy.”

It’s overwhelming to try to manage the feeling of Juraj’s tongue and Jack’s cock on you. You feel warm, your hands are gripping the table like your life depends on it, and you can feel yourself start to slip more and more.

“She’s wet enough already,” Quinn states, and the fact that he’s referring to you like you’re not even there makes you whimper loudly around Jack’s cock.

Next thing you know, you’re being manhandled again; Jack’s rough hands leave your cheeks to hold your waist instead, taking you to the nearest couch and laying down with you on top of him.

You’re facing him, those blue eyes never leaving yours. “Y/n,” he starts, his tone gentle for the first time that night. You hum, adjusting yourself on top of him, until you have both of your legs on each side of his body, almost on fours on top of him, highly aware that Quinn and Slaf could see everything. “We are going to be rough.”

“I know,” you whisper.

“I’m not asking for permission, baby, do you understand that?” He talks to you like one would do to a child, using a tone so soft it could put you to sleep, if it were any other situation. You bite your lips, feeling Slaf’s long fingers sliding up and down your pussy, rubbing circles on your swollen clit while Jack speaks. “We are going to be rough. Tonight, you’re nothing but a toy for us to play with, alright? A hole for us to fuck.”

You nod, closing your eyes momentarily as Juraj pinches your clit, hard. He tugs it and it feels like he just placed a clothespin on you. It hurts so. Good.

“I need your words, baby.”

“I u-understand that,” you sob, hot tears running freely down your face as you continue to speak. “I w-want it.”

Jack chuckles, touching your face with care. “It would be so nice if we actually cared about what you want, huh?”

You bit your lip again, suppressing a loud moan. It would be even more embarrassing if they realized how wet you got every time they were mean towards you.

“Bitch gets wetter and wetter every time you say shit like that, Hughes,” Juraj says, and your entire face burns with shame, as you hide it in the crock of Jack’s neck. “Come see this shit, Quinn.”

You tremble as you hear a pair of steps echoing through the room, and without warning, you feel your hips getting lifted, just slightly, at the same time you feel two fingers being inserted inside deeply in your pussy.

You whine loudly, not even feeling pain with how wet you were. His fingers were moving around like you were nothing but a sex doll, making you hold Jack’s arm to steady yourself.

“Look at this tight, little thing,” Juraj says, twirling his fingers around, scissoring them inside you. “Merde. She’s milking my fucking fingers, bro.”

“I can see that,” Quinn hums. “Pussy so fucking greedy she’s taking you without complaints.”

You were about to moan again when Juraj removed his fingers from you, leaving you clenching around nothing, once again. “Let’s start, then.”

After that, it’s hard to tell what really happened. You were thrown around, and suddenly, Slaf was laying under you, Quinn was standing beside you and you assumed Jack was behind you.

You could feel one of them poking their cock through your slit, gathering all your wetness to use as lube. Then, he slowly started to insert it, the stretch making you whimper inside Slaf’s mouth, as he bruised your lips roughly again.

Jack had barely given you time to adjust to his length when you felt Juraj’s tip poking at your entrance too. You gasped inside his mouth, feeling his dick joining Jack’s inside you and.

Oh.

“Fuck, Y/n.”

You opened your eyes, glistening with tears, and stared at Quinn standing beside you, who was looking at you with fond eyes. He chuckles while staring down at you, taking his dick out again and grabbing it with his right hand, running the tip over your mouth.

The salty taste of his precum painting your lips white distracted you momentarily from the fact that Juraj was still trying to put his dick inside you, accompanying Jack’s.

But it wasn’t enough, of course— even if Juraj's thick, long fingers had stretched you, it didn’t compare to having both of their cocks inside you, together.

“Oh,” you heard Quinn coo. “She’s crying. Maybe she can’t take it?”

You shook your head immediately, not even acknowledging how desperate you looked. Quinn put his thumb inside your mouth at the same time Juraj completely bottomed out inside you, making you scream around the brunette’s finger.

“Sh, sh,” Juraj mumbled under you. “Take it, hm?”

The stretch hurt, yet you couldn’t ask them to stop— you felt so full and you swear you can feel them rearranging your guts, reaching so deep inside your body that if you were to look, you’d probably see a bulge in your stomach.

“Holy shit, man,” Jack moaned, dragging his dick slowly until only the tip was in, so that he could slam it back into you again. “She’s so fucking tight.”

“Move, Hughes.” Juraj hissed under you, and after that, everything fell into a pure state of lust.

Jack and Juraj slammed their cocks inside you rhythmically, like they were dancing a well rehearsed dance. Your body jolted forward as they pounded inside you, rough hands— you didn’t know who's— holding you by your waist and pulling your hair at the same time.

Quinn, who had just been jerking his cock while looking at you, decides to take the opportunity and shove his dick inside you, making you gag around his thick length.

“Shit, Y/n,” he moans, throwing his head back. “I’m going to wreck your mouth like they’re doing with your pussy.”

And he wasn’t lying. He tilted your head to the side and thrust his dick deep inside your mouth, until your nose touched his crotch area. You gagged, still not used to the reckless act, but you were far too gone to complain.

The room smelled like sex, lust and sin. The dark walls watched as you laid on top of Juraj’s much bigger body while you took their cocks in two of your holes, with your pupils blown and wide. Your face was destroyed, it didn’t need to be a genius to realize that; your mascara had smudged under your eyes and the tears had spread the black ink almost everywhere.

Your legs hurt, and so did your jaw, but the pleasure was bigger than any pain. You had never felt this dirty, this raw before, but you feared that after this night, you wouldn’t ever be the same; nothing besides them would ever be enough.

“She feels so good,” Jack says, voice filled with need. “She was born for this.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Juraj says, kissing your neck while you gagged around Quinn’s dick. “Born to take cock inside her tiny pussy.”

After that, you keep slipping and slipping. You come on their dicks at least twice, falling apart each time you feel your wetness coating their dicks.

Your throat is raw, your jaw is hurting, but Quinn is close to his climax, like his brother and Slaf.

Jack and Slaf are the first to come, both painting your walls white with their seed. It’s maddening, your belly feels full of them, but you don’t have time to acknowledge that properly, not when Quinn is also coming deep inside your throat.

You lay limp on top of Slaf’s broad chest, closing your eyes, tired.

But—

“Y/n, hey,” you hear Quinn calling, and you open your eyes, just barely. “Can you stand up, just for a bit?”

“Don’t let it go to waste, baby,” Juraj warns you, and you keep clenching even after they remove their dicks. It’s hard, you feel so open you should be disgusted at yourself but you still try to do as they said.

You feel a pair of hands lifting you, and you sigh, exhausted. They manhandled you until you were laying on top of the couch, head resting on your arms. A rough pair of hands— Jack’s— spread your legs open, leaving you exposed once again.

“Go on,” he commands, and you let it go, feeling their sticky cum pour out of your used, gaping pussy. You sob, feeling dirty.

“Jesus fuck.”

“I think I’m hard again.”

“Lowkey, yeah.”

You collapse on the couch once you feel like there’s nothing left, blacking out as soon as your head hits the leather.

𖧷

YOU WOKE up with a light touch on your cheek.

It takes a while for you to manage to open your eyes, but when you do, you thank whoever decided to put a yellow, warm lighting in that room.

“Hi.”

Jack’s voice brings you back to the present, and you lift your head, only then realising that you were in his lap, fully clothed— with clothes that weren’t yours— and covered with something heavy that felt like a blanket.

You frowned.

“What… what happened?” You ask, looking around. There was Juraj, who was placing a few takeout bags on the table, and Quinn, who was holding an old piece of cloth. “Oh my God.”

It was real. You fucked Jack, Juraj and Quinn.

“Oh my God,” you groan, hiding your face in Jack’s chest.

“I hope these exclamations of yours are because you’re wearing Zegras’ hideous clothes and not because you realized you fucked the three of us.” Jack says, sarcasm taking over his face.

“Why would we do that,” you mumble. “Gosh. That’s wrong in so many ways, I can’t even begin to—”

“Y/n,” Quinn calls you, dropping the cloth on the table— the same table Juraj had eaten you out on— and walking towards you, lifting your chin with two of his fingers. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I— Well— We—” you stumbled over your words, not sure of what to say.

He applies pressure on your chin, sapphire eyes squinting at you. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“I—” you sighed. “Yeah. I did.”

He smiled.

“Then we’re fine.” It���s all he says, before pecking your lips, briefly. It was your first time kissing him and you secretly didn’t want it to be the last.

“We liked it too,” Jack says once his brother lets you go. He winks at you, smirking. “I’ll never forget the sight of you full with my—”

You put your hand over his mouth, red as an apple. “Okay, alright, shut up.”

He chuckles, taking your hand away and kissing you, exploring your mouth with his tongue, just like his brother had done, barely two minutes ago.

“You guys are no fun,” you hear Slaf’s voice. “In my opinion, we should just keep doing this.”

“No,” you say. “This was a one time thing. We can’t keep fucking each other like this.”

“As I said, no fun.”

“She’ll change her mind in a few days, I just know it.” Jack says under you and you roll your eyes at his cockiness.

“I’m too tired to argue with you,” you say. “I smell Chinese food. Can we eat?”

“Yeah, we should probably do that,” Quinn says, nodding. “It’s late already. Let’s eat and take Y/n home.”

Juraj and Jack agree with just a few more complaints, and while you watch them take turns to feed you, you realize, with shame, that Jack was wrong about one thing.

It wouldn’t take a few days for you to change your mind.

You had already done it.

NHL MASTERLIST.

JACK HUGHES MASTERLIST.

QUINN HUGHES MASTERLIST.

[my-castles-crumbling]

bad idea - February 2 - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - slightly NSFW - word count: 226

“James,” Sirius whispered to his best friend as they walked towards the Great Hall, “this is a bad idea. He’s going to say no, and make a scene besides…”

“It’ll be fine,” James reassured him confidently, though Sirius personally thought his confidence bordered on delusion. 

“Your funeral,” Sirius mumbled under his breath. And, just as he thought, as they approached the Slytherin table, he found himself receiving a disapproving glare. “Hey, Reg,” he said.

“Sirius,” Regulus responded stiffly. Then, he turned to James and broke into a grin. “Jamie.”

“Hi, Reggie! Say, can we borrow your broom for a bit? Sirius and I wanted to play a pickup game with a few other Gryffindors but my replacement broom hasn’t come in from when mine got destroyed last game,” James asked, completely at ease.

Icy gray eyes flickered from James to Sirius and back again. Sirius braced himself for impact. Regulus was very protective of his broom. But the Slytherin just shrugged. “Sure. Anything you need, love.”

Sirius gaped. “What the fuck? You’ve never let me use anything of yours, let alone your precious broom!”

Regulus, however, just gave Sirius a wry look. “Well, Sirius, you break my things when I let you use them. The only thing James breaks is my brain when he puts his hand on my c-”

“Oh, gross!” Sirius whined, stomping away.

[sharlsworld]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ guilty pleasure - 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔 ✴︎

（ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 ）𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗋𝖼 𝗑 𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

（ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 ）𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗉 𝗎𝗉 𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗆

note ✫ pt. 2 of my best friends brother, this could be read as a stand alone but would make more sense to look at the other smau. the first post is kinda suggestive

🝮

yn

liked by pierregasly and 1,728,306 others

yn was going through my camera roll, i miss summer so bad

charles_leclerc first

charles_leclerc I remember that week was absolute hell I felt like a teenage boy going through puberty

⤷ arthur_leclerc ew is that why you wouldn’t play chicken with us??? y/n wanted to play so bad then you ran away. you sicko what a perv

⤷ charles_leclerc It’s not funny arthur and I don’t know why you would suggest musical chairs on a fucking boat but that was horrible she sat on my lap and I almost creamed my pants right there

⤷ arthur_leclerc No one wants to know that you fuckin perv 🤮🤮 #lockcharlesup

⤷ charles_leclerc stop calling me a sicko and a perv just because she’s younger then me. i’ll purple nurple you arthur.

⤷ arthur_leclerc I’ll shave all your hair off when you’re asleep. You sleep like a rock you won’t feel a thing.

⤷ charles_leclerc I’ll shave your eyebrows off then you cunt

⤷ yn ok let’s stop there 😊

⤷ charles_leclerc Whatever you say bébé

francisca.cgomes hottie 😍😍🤤

carlossainz55 Who’s that cutie in the last slide?

⤷ alex_albon I thought we had a connection…we went on a coffee date carlos 😔

⤷ carlossainz55 Shhh look away baby, he has attachment issues…you’re the one I come home to every day 😘

⤷ yn ally 🏳️‍🌈 now get this gay fest out of my comment section

🝮

charles_leclerc

liked by lewishamilton and 5,544,814 others

charles_leclerc y/n via jade’s instagram story

yn wrong account?

arthur_leclerc is this meant for what i think it’s meant for?

jade_distinguinn Ummm???

lando charles marc hervé perceval leclerc do you run a fan page for your little brothers best friend? OMG IM GONNA GO FIND IT SHUT UP

georgerussell63 Ah, you’re one of us

⤷ danielricciardo NO WAY I FUCKING CALLED THIS IS SO CRAZY YOU LIAM ALEX AND LANDO OWE ME 300 BUCKS IM GONNA BE RICH

⤷ liamlawson30 you’re already rich?

⤷ danielricciardo Shut up and venmo me my money cunt THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE

arthur_leclerc OMG YOU RUN A FUCKING FAN ACCOUNT FOR Y/N THIS IS SO AMAZING WHATS THE USERNAME PLEASE

alex_albon this is tewww good drop the user king

leclerc_pascale Charles how long has this been going on?

pierregasly NO WAY BRO YOUR LIFE IS OVER

maxverstappen1 Absolute gold, this is pure cinema. Keep it up mate 🥳😂

lando SHUT UP ARE YOU CHARLESLOVESYN???

⤷ liamlawson30 NO WAY I FUCKING LOVE THAT ACCOUNT BRO

⤷ alex_albon I always wondered how they were always so quick to update

⤷ georgerussell63 Omg no way I stalk that account every night before bed

⤷ danielricciardo SHUT UP AND VENMO ME MY MONEY YOU GUYS PLEASUHHHHH

arthur_leclerc CHARLES TELL US YOUR SECRETS HOW DO YOU MANAGE A SUCCESSFUL FANPAGE WHILE BEING A F1 DRIVER??? 🎤🎤🎤

yn awhhh charles baby you’re so sweet

⤷ arthur_leclerc WTF THATS SO CREEPY??? ITS BEEN GOING SINCE 2021 THATS WHEN YOU TURNED 18????

⤷ yn don’t be mean arthur it’s sweet

⤷ arthur_leclerc oh my gosh you poor thing he’s brainwashed you 💔

⤷ yn stop being mean or i’ll post that one picture of you for everyone to see

⤷ arthur_leclerc 🤐

🝮

charleslovesyn

liked by lando and 573,649 others

charleslovesyn l’amour de ma vie ❤️

estiebestie omg she looks so pretty where did you get this from??

⤷ charleslovesyn my camera roll??

⤷ estiebestie oh!

⤷ estiebestie OHHHHHH

lando I FOUND IT IM FASTER THEN THE FUCKING FBI THIS IS THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY LIFE

⤷ danielriccardo Bruh send me my money

⤷ lando are you going broke or something damn

maxverstappen1 How do you have 70k followers

⤷ alex_albon this is THE y/n fan page max

yn sweet babyyy i love you

⤷ pierregasly Wow you two are a different level of down bad for each other

leclerc_pascale Well, at least it’s a successful fan account son ❤️

arthur_leclerc If I speak…

⤷ yn shut up arthur you burned your neck with my curling iron and told everyone it was a hickey

⤷ arthur_leclerc Oh my goshhh why would you say that 😔

⤷ yn quit being mean to charles he’s feeling very overwhelmed right now

⤷ arthur_leclerc sorry i forgot he can’t focus on anything but you anymore 😒

⤷ yn you still watch moana whenever we finish watch a scary movie

⤷ arthur_leclerc y/n stopppppp

lance_stroll Bros really been playing hard to get when he’s been running a fan page since 2021

⤷ yn shut up maple licker go hug a moose or something

⤷ yn omg i’m sorry lance i just wanted to say that but i don’t know anyone else who’s canadian 😿

⤷ lance_stroll you’re gucci queen don’t fret

georgerussell63 What a time to be alive

⤷ danielriccardo Oh so you can comment on charles’ fan page for his gf but not venmo me my money I won fair and square??

⤷ georgerussell63 Give me a minute damn I’m still riding on the high of this whole thing

🝮

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc and 3,381,160 others

charles_leclerc and what about it

francisca.cgomes King behavior honestly

alex_albon period

arthur_leclerc Okay tone the attitude down queen charles

⤷ yn 😐 have you learned nothing or do want me to tell everyone the time you peed yourself cause you got excited when you seen adele…last year

⤷ arthur_leclerc ain’t no way you just said that bruh 😓 i remember when you used to defend me like this when charles would be mean to me 😔

georgerussell63 Don’t ever let them shame the fan girl out of you ✊ we’re in 4life

carlossainz55 Yesss queen show your true self

lilymhe I wish Alex would make a fan page for me too…guess he doesn’t love me 😔

⤷ alex_albon I literally tried and you told me no.

⤷ lilymhe BECAUSE YOU MADE A GOSSIP PAGE

⤷ alex_albon JUST SAY YOU HATE ME GOSH

danielricciardo i’m still waiting for my money…

⤷ lando we’re sending it damn 😒

⤷ georgerussell63 Do you need it for rent or something jeez…

⤷ alex_albon seriously you already blew through your savings or what??

⤷ liamlawson30 don’t worry bud, i sent you a little extra. get yourself something nice ❤️

⤷ danielricciardo You sent me 1 extra dollar…

⤷ liamlawson30 send that shit back then damn, everyone’s so ungrateful these days 😒

⤷ danielricciardo Hell nah I’m keeping that shit

[tinythebunni]

How bunnyprincess!reader and Rafe met!!

inspired by @rafesangelita @princessbrunette

Rafe always came to the country club on the weekends and on Wednesdays to play golf with his friends. He wore a polo every time and always had his shoes shined pristine. Rafe usually ended up winning and afterwards he’d go inside to sit by the bar or swim in the pool.

After a long and tedious match, Rafe ended up losing. He wasn’t completely locked in on the match due to the argument with Rose this morning.

Walking inside and huffing a sigh, he took off his shirt and slouched in the lounge chair with Kelce and Topper joining him. Rafe ran his hand through his sweaty buzzed hair and used his shirt to wipe his head. He closed his eyes, zoning out the stupid conversation around him.

his head was fucking pounding and their nonsensical ramblings made him even more and more irritated. pinching the bridge of his nose he sighed as he heard someone walking over to them. probably one of those fucking bartenders, he thought to himself.

Rafe was ready to just up and leave at this point but then he noticed 3 things. He could smell the sweet scent of your perfume. Smelled of cupcakes and the sugar cookies his mom would make. Your voice sounded of honey drizzling. And when he opened his eyes, his lashes flutter at how beautiful you were.

“Hai guys! The usual?” you spoke as you pulled out your notepad. your eyes did a sweep over the three guys in front of you, lingering a bit on him. Rafe was very fucking confused, he’d never seen you before and he definitely would know.

Kelce went to open his mouth but Rafe was faster than him. “What’s your name?” He spoke, sounding a little more angry than he meant to.

“Oh i’m sorry if i interrupted your nap, i just know that these two like to-“ He cut you off once more.

“Forget about it bun, ‘m not worried bout it. last fucking thing on my mind right now.”

you blushed and blinked, wide eyed. You told him your name, pen resting on your lip as you looked at him. He introduced himself to you and stood. he towered over you, which was unusual. being tall yourself, you often felt like a giant compared to most guys on the island.

Rafe smirked at your reaction, a laugh bubbling out his throat. You could sense the God inside him, aching to be let out. Maybe you were a bit dramatic but you’re just a teenage girl!

Stepping closer to you, he put his hand on your hip and turned you so that you were right next to him. He slid his hand to the small of your back, whispering a quick come with me to you before turning around and smiling at the boys.

“Rafe come on! Ya can’t keep stealing the pretty girls.” Topper yelled in exasperation, throwing his hands up.

Rafe chuckled before saying something that made your heart flutter. “You don’t gotta worry bout that no more. I want to keep this one. Make her mine and all that” he replied.

As he lead you away to a table in the corner, he asked you little questions. Mainly about your love life, what you were doing at this bar. “girl like you should never have to work. too pretty for all that shit” He added, watching as you glanced down as if your shoes were the most interesting thing in the world.

his thumb tilted your head up and you looked away nervously. “Hey hey. none of that shit. Look at me.” You did as he said, not wanting to lose his attention. “you should have someone providing for you. So you can do all that girly shit yall like and not worry about it.” He watched as you smiled, eating up your reaction. His tounge darts out to swipe at his bottom lip before he speaks again.

“I could be that for you. All my money just rots in my fucking bank account anyways. You want me to be that for you? Could be your boyfriend. Keep your tummy full, nails done, and make you feel good. Whenever you need it.” His words made you flush, your chest blooming with nerves and anxiety. But in the best way possible.

You nodded, your eyes a bit glossy at the casual dominance. You’d always been one to prefer when people take charge about certain things. And this? it was perfect. “Yea. I’d really like dat Rafe.” You stepped closer, making a move. You placed your hand on his chest and stood on your tip toes to kiss his cheek. “Can you wait for me to finish my shift? It’s over in 30 and I wanna talk to you more” you pouted trying to win him over as you regained your confidence.

“Fuck yea!” he said a little too excited. “I mean, yea yea for sure.” he corrected, nodding his head and he turned on his heel. You watched him walk away, noticing the slight bounce in his step.

[poseidonsworst]

I also lost my cat of 13 years in October.

His name was Larry. My big silly boy was with me through my years long mental health crisis in high school, my recovery through that the first year of college, and the decline of my physical health during the rest. Him and Lady Macbeth were such important constant friends through all of that. I often credit them with saving my life a few times while my mental health was at it's lowest. Even if they were more Disservice Animals than they were service animals once my physical health started to go.

He was such a silly, ridiculous cat. I didn't take near enough pictures of him, but it was still hard to choose which ones to put here.

He used to play fetch with hair ties and rubber bands, and his favorite places to be were either snuggled up with Lady or on his favorite blanket in my lap (pulling out my head phone cable or messing with my keyboard!!)

He was obsessed with yogurt and sitting on top of fridges. And when my chronic pain made me too squirmy to be a comfortable lap, he'd squish himself onto this rickety old kitten-sized cat tree just to be near me. It was way to small for him, and wobbled whenever he shifted. It honestly took a lot longer for it to break under his big ass than I thought it would, but he still hung out there.

About a year and a half ago I developed MCAS, which is basically Allergic To Everything Disorder, and what was previously a minor cat allergy escalated to the point where I couldn't breathe if my babies were in the same room as me. I had to go send them to live with my parents, and it was several months into that time when Larry was diagnosed with jaw cancer.

The chances of him pulling through were to slim to put him through all the surgery and chemo treatment would entail, so I decided that allergies be damned I was gonna spend as much time with him as I could.

I got about a week.

The vet told me I'd know when it was time, and that time came when he'd only eat if I hand fed him. He crawled up on my chest, looked at me, and started pawing at his face like he was asking me to do something about it. He was already on a lot of pain meds, so the best thing I could do for him was let go.

During that last week he still curled up on my lap on his favorite blanket, and ambled after some rubber bands I shot across the room. I made an appointment for a specialty vet come to my house so he could be comfortable and I could hold him as he went.

Despite that, I managed to put off grieving him because I'd already mourned having to send them to live away from me. This post is what I finally needed to pull his ashes out of the closet and finally properly welcome him home, so he can sit on my lap on his favorite blanket.

Thank you Larry for being my best friend through so much, I'll always love you my big stinky man.

Lyra, my beloved cat of 13 years, passed away this year on Father's Day. She's been by my side through very difficult times and was my little rock of steady and unrelenting love. I struggled a lot drawing this, and struggled a lot posting it, but I know I would've wanted to read a comic like this that validated my grief for her when I lost her.

Wherever you are, Lyra my little summer star, I love you always! Thank you for being the best thing in my life.

[munsonsmixtapes]

This could be just my hormones going insane but I just need a fix of Steve/eddie (or both) giving reader some loving cause all of her friends are having babies and she’s feeling a little bit frustrated it’s not happening with her. Either of the boys end up catching the vibes so they doo all they can to help our girl out and it sticks

What I would GIVE!

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) grinding, breeding kink, creampie, mention of pregnancy, hurt/comfort, cockwarming

Having a baby isn’t something you’ve ever really thought about. Your life has always been so you haven’t really had the time, but as you’ve gotten older, you’ve begun to wonder if maybe you wouldn’t mind having a little one running around. You see the tiny little clothes when you’ve gone shopping and your heart bursts. At restaurants, you’ll see the cute little families and wonder what if that could be you?

Your baby fever get even worse when one of your close friends who just had her first child invites you over to meet him. The second she puts him in your arms and his tiny hand wraps around your finger, that's it. You just know you want one of your own. A little baby that you would raise until they eventually would venture out in the world on their own.

But that's all a pipe dream in your eyes. That would never happen for you because you’re single and sperm donors and adoptions can be tricky. So you're just stuck thinking about it for the rest of your life, just hoping, wishing that it'll miraculously happen.

You spend the whole drive home sobbing. You can barely even see through your tears, but you somehow make it home to your apartment that you share with your best friend, Steve. And for once, you hope he isn’t home, because there's no way you can tell him why you're crying. It'd be way too embarrassing.

So you wordlessly hurry to your room where you bury yourself under your covers as the sobs pour out of you. You feel so pathetic for crying about something like this, but you can't help it. It just hurts way more than it should.

There's a knock at the door and you're so glad that you locked it. You really can't talk to Steve right now. He just wouldn't understand. You know that he would be understanding and sympathetic like always, but this time, it would be even better if he was actually experiencing what you are.

"Hey, y/n," he says from the other side of the door and you can just imagine him with furrowed eyebrows, the look he always gets when he's upset. You know you've hurt his feeling by shutting him out, but this is for his own good. He doesn't want to have this awkward conversation with you. You're sure of it.

"I know you're upset about something so I uh, I made you that hot chocolate you like." He's so sweet that it makes your heart ache sometimes. What did you do to deserve a best friend like him?

You throw the covers off of you and make your way to the door. You unlock and open it to reveal Steve's sympathetic smile. He holds the mug out to you and you take it, taking a sip before heading back to your bed, Steve sitting next to you, but making sure to keep some space between the two of you.

Just like always, the silence isn't awkward between the two of you as you sip on your beverage and he just sits there. You set the mug on your desk then sit next to him again, this time to where your thighs are touching and you lean your head on his shoulder.

His arm wraps around your arm, his hand moving lazily up and down it as a way to comfort you. You can't help but let you mind wonder what it would be life if Steve was the father of your child. You're he'd be the perfect candidate, but you're sure that he'd think it was weird. His best friend wants to have a baby with him? That's definitely out of his comfort zone and you know it.

"You wanna tell me what's bothering you?" No fucking way. you're taking that shit to the grave. You've got to make something up, and fast.

"Just womanly stuff, you know how it is," you sniff, feeling tears streaming down your cheeks again. You do your best to try and pretend that your stomach is cramping and Steve is quick to pull you into his lap.

His rests is hands on the lower part of your stomach where he knows they get really bad and he begins to massage the area to relieve some of the pain. He always take sure good care of you and that's how you know that he would be a great dad.

You think about him doing the exact same thing when your stomach starts showing, talking to the baby and you suddenly feeling wet between your legs. You're staring to see Steve in a different way and you're not entirely sure how to feel about it.

"How does that feel?" He asks, looking down at you and suddenly, every single thought is replaced by your need to know what his lips feel like. They look like two pretty, pink pillows and you just can't stop staring.

“I’m not really cramping,” you tell him, feeling guilty that you lied to him. “I uh, I was actually upset because-well, because everyone around me is getting married and having children and I just-that’s what I want. I just want a family, Stevie.”

You look so heartbroken and Steve can see your eyes welling up again. He suddenly gets an idea, but he knows it’s crazy. When you mentioned having a family, clearly he wasn’t supposed to be in the picture. But now that it’s come to his mind, he can’t stop thinking about it.

He’d be honored to have a baby with you. He just knows you’d be an amazing mother, especially when he’s seen you with the kids in his family at different Harrington functions. Now that he’s thought of it, he can’t unsee it. Now he’s got to see it through. That is, if you agree. And why would you? The idea really isn’t something that he should be suggesting to his best friend, but what the hell?

“What if we had a baby?” He asks, his honey eyes boring into yours and you swear you just might melt. He’s so sweet sometimes that you don’t feel like you deserve him. He takes your silence as his answer and quickly tries to backtrack. “Just forget I said anything.”

“No, Steve,” you grab hold of his face in your hands, forcing him to look you in the eye. “I’d love to have a baby with you. Honored, actually.”

“You would?” His face lights up and you can’t help but laugh at how adorable he is.

“Yes,” you nod.

You move so that you’re straddling his lap while his hands rest on your waist. Shit, you’re really doing this and Steve can’t hide his excitement. This might be the smartest thing he’s ever done.

You make the first move, leaning down and bringing your face to his, slowly capturing his lips with yours. He's quick to respond, trying to match your pace as his lips move against yours. Yours are soft and he's convinced that this is the best kiss he's ever had. You know exactly what you're doing and he's just desperate for more.

Just as he melting into you, he feels you grinding against his crotch and he lets out a whine, already feeling himself getting hard. This has to be a record for sure. He lets you do what you want, loving everything you're doing so far.

His tongue slides into your mouth and he swears he's going to come just from hearing you. It's so hot and now that he's hearing it person and not on the other side of the wall when you pleasure yourself, he's sure it's even hotter because he's the cause of it.

“God, you’d look so pretty,” he sighs against your lips. “So fucking hot. And I’d praise you any chance I got.”

He’s saying all the right things and now you think you’re ready. You’ve-you’ve never done anything like this with Steve, but something about it feels so good, so right.

Your top comes off and it’s thrown to the side as Steve takes advantage of your now exposed skin. He kisses and nips at chest as you melt in his arms, mewling at every touch of his lips.

He slips the straps of your bra off of your shoulders and continues his kisses there, mixing in his lips with it as your hands grab hold of his biceps, digging your fingers into his skin.

“So fucking pretty,” he mumbles against your skin and you flush, feeling hot from both his compliments and his soft lips. “Now let me see you.” He unhooks your bra and pulls it away from your body to reveal your bare chest.

Your nipples are hard and Steve’s mouth waters as he thinks about how badly he wants them in his mouth. They’re practically begging for it as your back arches, moving your body from side to side, his gaze following you.

Without warning, Steve grabs hold of your waist and turns your bodies so your back is flat against your bed, him on top of you. He goes straight for your nipple, taking it into his mouth, giving it a hard suck as he pins your arms to the bed.

You gasp as the feeling and Steve continues, introducing his tongue as he licks and sucks on your nipple, one of his hands moving to massage the other one so it gets some attention as well.

Your back arches against his as a pretty moan falls from your lips and he takes that as an invitation to continue. He bites down hard and you mewl, your fingers gripping the bedding underneath you.

“That’s a pretty sound, baby,” he compliments as he pulls away for a split second. “Wanna make it again?”

“Please,” you whine and he goes in again with another as you let out another moan. Once you’ve reached your peak, he moves onto the other nipple, doing the exact same routine until you’re orgasming again, grabbing onto his shirt, trying to pull it off of him so you can proceed.

Steve’s shirt is off in an instant and he kisses his way down your torso slowly, giving your stomach special attention. He peppers it with kisses as he showers you with the sweetest words, wanting to make you feel special, to know that he really wants this and isn’t just doing it because he should.

“You’re gonna be such a great mother,” he starts off, pressing a kiss to the spot right above your belly button. “I’d be honored to raise a child with you.” Another kiss to the spot. “Fuck, I’m gonna love filling you,” is what he finishes off with before pressing a kiss to the spot right above your jeans. He then unbuttons them and you just now you’re a mess now, feeling your slick rolling down your legs.

Your jeans are off in an instant followed by your panties and Steve undressed himself before spreading your legs wide, lining himself up with you before slowly inserting himself. It’s a tight fit, but by the time he’s done with you, you’re going to be so loose.

His pace is slow as he takes his time, watching you so intently to make sure that you’re okay. You’re more than enjoying yourself, it seems as you moan and whine, your nails scratching down his back. Steve didn’t realize just how much he loves not using a condom, feeling every single part of you against him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he says as his thrusts pick up, moving even faster, inch by inch trying to get all of himself inside you.

“Haven’t done this in a while.” It’s at least been a couple of months.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll loosen you up in no time.” He’s pumping even harder and faster now, trying to get to a pace that the two of you will enjoy and continues at that pace as you respond positively.

“And look at that. You’re taking me so well.” He’s moving so fast now that the bed is squeaking underneath you, moving back and forth with every pump and you’re eating it up, needing feel all of him.

“More,” you whine and Steve just chuckles.

“Can’t go any faster than this.”

“No, Steve, more.” You grab hold of his hips and push him further inside you, bucking your hips against his so he gets the hint.

“You got it, sweetheart,” he winks. “Sure I’m not gonna hurt you?”

“I want you to. I just need to feel you. Want you to fill me.” You buck your hips again and again as the two of you work together, trying your best to get the other off.

He’s all the way inside you now and you can feel tears pricking your eyes as you can feel every single inch of him, so sure that he’s going to split you apart. Not that you mind. That would actually be the best way to go of you’re being honest.

“Taking me so well. Look at you, so close to coming. I can see it. Fuck, you’re beautiful. Gonna look even more beautiful with my baby. Gonna-“ his words are cut off as he reaches his own orgasm. He releases inside you and you watch him come undone, curling his head towards his chest as his eyes shut tight. His fingers are digging into your waist and you push his hair away from his sweaty face as he’s coming down.

He’s got just enough energy for little more. Just enough to get you there. He’s moving as hard and fast as he can, watching you come undone underneath him. You’re so pretty, the perfect mother for his child.

As soon as your orgasm is over, Steve lowers himself down onto, not even bothering to pull out because he just wants to be this close to you for a little longer. His lips find yours in a gentle kiss before he lays his head on your chest, your fingers running through his hair.

You spend the rest of the night like that before cuddling up in your bed, the two of you discussing baby names, deciding that neither of you care whether it’s a boy or girl.

Nine months later, you welcome your baby girl into the world. Steve is right by your side the entire delivery and seeing you hold her for the first time, he’s sure that you’re going to be an amazing mother and he’s so excited to navigate parenting with you.

[onlyyvette]

idk why but i just needed to get this off my chest :p

warnings: a little bit of corruption + dom reader + handjobs

Personally, I absolutely love the idea of having a "straight" guy as one of your favorite bros. The two of you have such a good relationship, always meeting up at the gym with each other, bringing an extra water bottle for the other, hanging out at each other's home, great stuff. Until he brings up the idea of blowing off some steam by jerking each other off. Like bros though, of course.

And like a good friend, you agree because that's what bros do! Totally not because of his perfectly sculpted arms, that big and bouncy chest, and thighs that would absolutely crush you between them. Of course not.

Little do you know, your bro has been struggling with a little crush on you. By crush, he means that he needs you to fuck him so hard he breaks. He always thought he was straight, never even gave it much thought besides the guys he would see once in a while that he would find hot if he were a girl. That was until the moment he saw you half-naked in the showers, his eyes nearly glued to you unclothed dick. He couldn't help but feel a throb himself while he ogled your form.

Of course he was still straight! It was only normal that a male would want to size up another male, just guys being guys. And it's pretty normal for guys to jerk off together, right?

Maybe he was wrong.

He can barely keep up with your precum slicked hand moving up and down your cocks, he's too busy whimpering and fucking up into your fist. He's letting out whines of Bro, slow down and Too much, if only he could hear himself, how pathetic he sounds nearly losing his mind just from getting jerked off by another man, his bro.

He's so damn sexy like this, his brows scrunched up as he holds back his tears. Beads of sweat roll down his flushed and panting face. You might pull on his dick a little too hard, but he's so cute you can't help yourself. His eeks of pleasure only worsens(betters) his situation.

By the time he's already shot his load, another one upcoming, you finally release. As his mind tries its best to unscramble itself, he can't help but want to do something like this again, or even go further. You may call him gay for it, but you have to understand, right? It's just bros helping out bros.

[totalswag]

raw next question? pt 2 ⎯ RAFE CAMERON!

authors note the amount of support i got on my last fic is unbelievable, thank you so much. i tried my best for part two so i hope you guys like it. so, here you go 👀. raw next question

taglist ✎ ̼ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

masterlist

summary after leaving a comment under rafe's post, he responds back showing interest and reaches out.

warning(s) flirting, kissing at the end, cuteness, and meeting rafe for the first time.

rafecameron: hey! bold move, I think we should talk.

The only thing running through your mind is⎯what the actual fuck. To be fair, you were expecting a response or comment, not even a dm. You don't know what to say.

"Okay, we need to think of something to say because," you hesitate for a few minute, "yeah, I don't have anything to say" you trail off before stretching the back of your head.

Zoie lets out a breath: "I say we wait to respond then once we come up with a response, send it to him."

Five minutes later, you open your phone, click on the text, and begin typing a reply. "This is what I'm going to respond with," you say, pointing to your phone to the girls. 

yourusername: hey haha, thought I’d hop on the trend. didn’t expect you to reply tho.

Two minutes later, he responds.

rafecameron: oh, so I’m just part of a trend? damn, i thought i was special... 😔

yourusername: haha so funny, rafe

yourusername: i admit though you're attractive

rafecameron: ahh the truth comes out huh

rafecameron: since we're speaking the truth, you're gorgeous

Rafe and you started conversation among other topics. One of the main things you two found out is that you live an hour away from each other. By the end of the week, you exchanged phone numbers.

After Rafe responded to your comment, you two started leaving sly/flirty comments on each other's posts that spiked conversations between your supporters.

They're messing with us right?

They keep playing eye tag... HOLLA AT YO BOY!!

"Would you like to meet up sometime?" Rafe asked casually over FaceTime while searching the kitchen cupboard for something, his phone resting against a glass cup. 

It's been a month since Rafe and you have been texting and calling. Constantly texting⎯quick responses. It became a routine for the both of you. Learned a lot about each other in a span of a month.

Your back was against the headboard as you sat on your bed. He wants to meet you in person, and your eyes almost pop out of their sockets. "Yeah, I would like that," was all you could offer.

Peeping over his shoulder, Rafe chuckles quietly and smiles. "I'm thinking this weekend if you aren't busy?" "I would drive to you," he says, suggesting.

You raise your upper body off the headboard and reply, "I'll send you my address the day before, I'm not doing anything this weekend."

"Perfect!" He smiles.

Today was the day⎯Rafe and you are meeting for the first time. Nervous and excited about all this. You don't want to make a fool of yourself. Rafe was forty minutes away, in the meantime, you were on the phone with Zoie and Evenly.

Rafe offered to drive to visit you, and you couldn't help but be anxious. He was an hour away, yet his attempt to see you meant more than you could express.

"Bitches I'm shitting bricks" you confess feeling anxious, running your hands down your thighs, walking around the kitchen.

"Y/N, it's normal to feel this way especially since you're meeting him for the first time. Take a few deep breaths and if you need anything from us, we're one call, and few doors down" Evelyn reassures you in a soothing tone.

"Agreed, you got this, it's normal to feel this way," Zoie expresses.

"Thank you, you two are such great friends, I love you so much" you say with honesty, your phone buzzes, you put your phone back.

rafe: five minutes away

you: perfect, see you soon!!

You gasps, quickly putting your phone back to your ear, "he's five minutes away um, I'll text you guys throughout the day."

Once Rafe got to the apartment complex, you walked down the stairs to where he parked⎯he was getting his bags from his trunk. You were amazed how tall he was too.

Before you can say anything, he turns around and says, "Hey, Y/N," with a smile that conveys how happy he is to see you.

Seeing him in person made you realize he's even more handsome. Rafe couldn't keep his eyes off you, he couldn't help but think how he's standing infront of someone as beautiful as you.

"Hey, Rafe, It's good to see you" you say, taking a big breath and gazing up at his towering body. You grin and lean into the hug. The height difference between you two is insane. He

"It's great to finally meet you; you're even more beautiful in person," he says to you, smiling. You chuckle softly at his compliment, "thank you handsome" and smile.

After arriving at your place, you show Rafe where everything is and where he will be staying—either your bed or the guest bedroom, which has been thoroughly cleaned and sanitized. 

Rafe was happy to see your apartment and commented on how well it matches your vibe. He took his time looking around the apartment. Since you were already ready for the day, you spent ten more minutes in the apartment before heading out.

You have no idea what the plan was today. Rafe intended for a lasting and enjoyable day. You persisted on showing him around, but he said he wanted to be the one to take you places, even if he didn't know where. 

"This is has been such a great day, thank you Rafe" you tell him with full honesty as you two get settled to play mini golf.

He looks up from the floor and responds with a kind, sincere smile, "I'm glad you're enjoying it." "I remember you mentioning you loved mini golf too."

He is able to recall the small details.

Your heart sank to your feet since no male has ever recalled the small information you shared with them. As you playfully nudge him, you exclaim, "I can't believe you remember that."

He chuckles, "I'm just good at remember."

Mini golf was a lot of fun, with plenty of laughs and competition between you two. In the beginning, he noticed your concentration and took out his phone to record you until you spotted him flipping him off.

Towards the end of the night, Rafe and you drove to an ice cream shop and ate it outside. You had little conversations and learnt more about each other today.

Before putting a scoop of his ice cream in his mouth, he says, "We should make a tiktok."

After contentedly leaning back in your chair, you decided to do it. In addition, many who support you have been wondering if you two will ever cross paths. They're going to be amazed.

she knows remix slowed.

Rafe began lip-syncing, his expression playful and undoubtedly attractive. When it got to looking like the Fourth of July, you're officially coming with me, he switched the phone to you. You were already staring at him, eyes full of admiration, unable to conceal the warm smile on your lips.

The camera returned to him, and he tried not to chuckle, tilting his phone downward as he giggled. The final second of the video showed your arms wrapped around his neck.

rafe cameron: 👀

tagged yourusername

Fans were blowing up the comment section.

⇾ fan23: DO YOU SEE THE WAY SHE LOOKS AT HIM!!

⇾ fan12: you know you have thirty minutes

⇾ fan1: i decided if i want y/n or rafe 😔

⇾ fan3: im sat for this

By the time you returned to your flat, the tension had grown to a point where it could no longer be ignored. Rafe took a step closer as you paused nervously by your door. His hand softly stroked your cheek, his gaze seeking yours, before he asked, "Is this okay?"

You barely had time to nod before his lips touched yours, gentle and languid, like if he was savoring the moment. The kiss was pleasant, but it also hinted at something deeper.

When you eventually pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours, chuckling. "Best decision I ever made was replying to that comment."

"Best decisions I ever made was commenting" you softly say, smiling.

⎯⎯ my taglist! 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account

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[dailynnt]

AURORA

ᴺᵒʳᵗʰᵉʳⁿ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˢ

༘✩ Summary: A relationship that survived a breakup but could not be forgotten. Like the northern lights that appear only at certain moments, their feelings had their peaks and troughs, but always remained on the horizon. You meet your ex at some event. The feelings are still alive.

༘✩ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader

༘✩Age restrictions: 18+

༘✩ Size: one shot

༘✩ Tags: ex to lovers, longing, smurt, cursing, sex, unprotected sex, detailed description of explicit scenes, alcohol

༘✩ Dedication: This work is dedicated to my beloved Armys. I wrote this work thinking of you. I hope this work resonates with you - @myjungkookthighs, @kelsyx33, @someoneelse0109, @mskookie, @kooccult, , @smokinghotstargirl , @curse-of-art, @rispwr, @kooko007

༘✩ From author: I have long dreamed of writing a story like this and here it is in one day. I tried my best for you and I really hope you will like the way I described the love that does not die, even if it seems that it is the end. Inspired by a song I found not so long ago and it immediately associated me with Jungkook💜❤️‍🔥💘 And I'll add another one, the lyrics of which are also here. Enjoy 🙏🏻🥰

You didn't expect to see him. You thought you would never see him again in your life. Certainly not here, among dozens of strangers, in a room flooded with soft light that resembled the glare of the northern lights. But he was here.

Your eyes meet and your heart skips a beat. He is approaching, accompanied by one of the organizers of the event you have come to. He keeps his eyes on you and you can't look away either. He seems to be the only one who could touch the strings of your soul, and they seem to be starting to pluck.

He approaches and stops a few steps away. He didn't expect to see you again either. Your last words had clearly created a great gulf between you that neither of you could cross.

He was not prepared for his heart to beat faster and his breath to become ragged, as if after a long run. But he couldn't show it, he had to control himself.

"Y/N would like to introduce you to one of our biggest sponsors. Jeon Jungkook." - He introduce Jungkook. "And Mr. Jeon, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She's a writer with whom our publishing house works." - Your eyes are greedy. You literally study each other, trying to find what has changed. And if anything has changed at all.

You look at him, waiting for him to behave. Will he pretend that you don't know each other? Or will he say that there is no need to introduce you? Because you used to be the whole world to each other.

"It's nice to meet you, Y/N." - Jungkook says. So he chooses not to be an acquaintance. Hmm, in fact, he is.

"Likewise." - You reply briefly and discreetly. Jungkook pulls your hand towards him and you put yours in his. An electric pulse goes through your whole body.

He has the same look in his eyes. The same movements you know. You used to know every detail about each other. And then you lost it.

This man in front of you was your ex-boyfriend. He was the man who made you feel like the world stopped when you were with him. He was your passion, your trusted friend, your lover. Everything between you was intense and pure, but like everything that burns brightly, it burned out. The breakup was hard and painful.

You felt your heart flutter at the familiar touch. It was more than physical contact - it was like coming home after a long journey. You didn't want it, but just like then, you couldn't shake this deep attachment. You tried to forget him, tried to let him go, but he was remained by you every day, in you every thought. And now, when your hand is back in his, you realized that you was never really ready to let go.

"I read your story. It's amazing. I'm not surprised why it's so successful." - Jungkook says, and you think you're going to fall through the floor. He's a great actor, you've always known that. But you're don’t. Even though your heart is burning with excitement and old feelings are bubbling to the surface, you think you have to go. You can't even let him be with you, because you'll lose all control.

But let's be honest, the walls you've been building for six months since the breakup has cracked. Just looking at him makes you want him to be yours again.

"I am sincerely grateful for your words. But to be honest, you don't strike me as someone who reads romance novels." - You can't contain your sarcasm. Jungkook laughs lightly, his husky voice vibrating, and this vibration ignite your bones.

"Actually, Mr. Jeon is a very creative person. He's a professional photographer." - The event organizer explains, not realizing how much these words can make your heart beat faster. Because you know his profession well.

Jungkook smiles, his eyes rest on you again, and his words sound as if he wants to share something more intimate.

"Yes, I often photograph couples." - He says, his voice softening as if he's immersed in his memories. "For me, photography is not just art, it's a way to feel emotions. Sometimes music, movies, or even novels can inspire moments that seem real only through the lens." - You can't help but smile. He's fended off your sarcastic attack, but the thing is, you doubt he could have read your novel.

Jungkook glances down at your red silk dress, which fits your figure perfectly, seductively emphasizing all the curves of your body. Curves that were once his territory. The curves he knows so well, the ones he's touched so many times

Jungkook holds his breath for a moment. He remembers how that delicate skin trembled under his fingers, how your breath grew deeper every time his hands traveled over your body. And now, looking at you, he feels an almost unbearable urge to run his fingertips over your collarbone again, to go lower, to run his hands around your waist, to put his hand on your lower back, where his touch always made you moan slightly.

His imagination shamelessly draws pictures of that red silk fabric slowly sliding off your body, revealing to him everything he remembers so well. His fingers involuntarily clench into a fist - the desire is too sharp, too real. He knows he has no right to touch you, knows that there is a gaping hole between you, created not only by hurt feelings but also by time.

But, damn it, how much he wants to reach out, to touch at least the ends of your hair, to run his fingers over your cheek, to feel the warmth of your skin again.

And then, when you finally catch his gaze, he quickly masks the thirst in his eyes with a barely noticeable smile. If only you knew what's going on in his head right now. If you knew that this evening is awakening in him what he has been trying to suppress for so long.

"Then I apologize for my hasty conclusions. I am sincerely grateful that you read my work." - You say and quickly add, because you can't stand Jungkook's company anymore. If he wants you to be strangers, you should stay strangers forever. "It was nice to meet you. Have a nice evening." - You say, giving the men a casual smile and walk away, barely able to keep yourself together. You don't let Jungkook know how much of an impact he has on you, even six months later.

After the breakup, your life turned into an endless marathon of forgetting, although in reality you were just trying not to remember. Your heart was cut like glass, and your mind was exhausted from trying to make yourself stronger. Every day you were learning a new role: a successful woman who was moving forward, even though your inner world was in ruins.

There was no shortage of men around. They came and went-attractive, confident, ready to give you everything you lacked. But each of them remained a shadow, and even the best moments with them felt empty compared to what you had with him. Those evenings when they spent together in bed, or just watching a movie in each other's arms, when there was no time, no space, nothing but your two hearts beating in unison.

You were trying to be "normal," trying to find your way and not think about him. If someone had told you six months ago that he would reappear in your life, you would have laughed, because you were sure that you would never let that happen again. You did everything you could to forget. You immersed yourself in work, wrote, traveled, had short-term meetings, but all of this was just a temporary escape from your own pain.

Over time, you thought, that you might actually be left alone, just to find myself again. You were no longer looking for someone who could give you back the feeling of the real connection that you had. It was your choice, your decision to try to relive this love that you couldn't forget.

But all fate decides. It's not interested in your plans or his plans. It has its own plan and it made sure that your paths crossed again. You are afraid that you won't be able to resist if Jungkook tries to make contact. You love him, but it's unlikely that you'll ever be together again.

The official event is over. You stay at the afterparty. When you enter the restaurant where the party is taking place, you feel a lot of stares. But you are not interested. You stayed after the event because you are excited. Because of the meeting with Jungkook, you can't get rid of the obsessive thoughts and feelings that want to find him and be with him until the morning.

You cautiously study the crowd around you. You don't find Jungkook. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you hope that he has already left, that your chance meeting was just a game of chance, and that's enough. But the part of you that never learned to forget him feels empty.

You stand at the bar, twirling your wine glass in your fingers, letting yourself relax. The atmosphere of an afterparty is lighter, more relaxed than an official event. People are laughing, the music is flowing with a soft rhythm, making your body sway slightly.

And then you feel it. A gaze. His gaze.

Like an echo of the past that won't let go. At first, you don't turn your head, don't give him that pleasure. But you can't stand it, and your eyes meet. You literally give him a second of your gaze, look away. This is enough for him. He comes closer, stands next to you. His perfume is a familiar scent that makes your pulse quicken. A scent that makes you almost crazy.

"Dancing?" - His voice is low, almost inaudible over the music, but it cuts to the core. You look up at him. His eyes are dark, deep, something has changed in them, but at the same time they are still the same. The eyes that looked at you with love and passion.

"I don't think that's a good idea." - You answer, sipping your wine so that he doesn't notice your excitement.

"Come on. It's just a dance." - He holds out his hand and you look at it. You hesitate, but the devil on your shoulder whispers: you want this. He wants this. Go. Go with him. It's just one night. And you make a choice. You put your hand in his.

He leads you to the dance floor. A slow, sensual melody fills the space between you. His hand on your waist is hot, his fingers gently squeezing the silk fabric of your dress. With his other hand, he holds your palm in his, gently but firmly.

You move to the music, his body almost touching yours. It's not just a dance - it's a dangerous game, a test of willpower. And you seem to have already lost. He has deprived you of all willpower.

You look into his eyes and try to understand what is in his mind. What does he want? Just to know what your life has become? Or does he want to try to cross the line? Jungkook's smile is mysterious. The hole from piercing on his lip stretches. You make a titanic effort not to look at his lips.

You dance, every movement a dangerous test. His hand slides to the small of your back and your breath hits you. He always touched you like this - confidently but slowly, as if he was savoring every moment.

But suddenly he leans a little closer, his lips dangerously close to your ear.

"It's... so familiar, isn't it?" - His voice is husky, and you know he feels the same way you do. It's an unrestrained desire to give in to the feelings that overwhelm you. You pull away and look up, catching his eyes. There, in their dark abyss, something forbidden flashes. Memories. A desire.

"It's in the past for me." - You lie. "The past should stay in the past." - You try to make your voice sound confident, but you don't seem to be succeeding. His hand presses lightly on your back.

"Do you really believe that?" - He asks. The silence between you says more than words. You are standing on the edge of an abyss where it is so easy to fall.

You don't know what to say. Your heart is pounding furiously in your chest, and your hands seem to remember what it feels like to touch it, to feel its warmth. You continue to move to the music, but now everything seems even slower, even more tense.

His fingers gently run down your back, a barely perceptible touch that leaves a pulsating trail. He leans in a little closer, his breath burning your skin.

"You say the past should stay where it is." - He smiles at the corner of his lips, as if he can read your thoughts. "But it seems to be catching up with us, Y/N."

You want to object, to say something prickly, but your body is treacherously drawn to him. His hand moves even lower down your back, almost on your buttocks. It makes you hold your breath. This is nothing. It's a game you've both played before. But didn't you know that things always go over the top with Jungkook?

You stop. He stops too. There are only a few centimeters between you, but it's enough to make every cell in your body burn.

"Jungkook..." - You whisper, not even knowing what you want to say. He looks at you, carefully, almost painfully slowly. His gaze slides across your face, lingers on your lips, and then meets yours again.

"Tell me I have to stop." - He whispers, leaning closer, barely touching your cheek with his nose. "I won't touch you unless you let me." - He says it quietly but confidently. And this is the cruelest thing. Because you don't know what will be worse for you - if he actually touches you or if he pulls away.

You want to tell him to stop. You really do. But instead, your fingers involuntarily clamp down on the fabric of his jacket, not allowing you to move away.

"I can't..." - You give up. So quickly, so foolishly. This admission was enough.

His lips touch your neck very lightly, causing a shiver to run through your body. You sigh, tilting your head as if to give him more access. And he does not refuse.

"Why do you still have this effect on me?" - You protest out loud. He was quiet, almost broken by his own feelings. He ran his fingers along your collarbone, causing your eyes to close.

"Because we never really let go of each other." - He said what you needed to hear. What you hadn't allowed yourself to admit for six months.

You inhale sharply, meeting his gaze. Deep, dark, full of desire. Another moment, and this thin line between temptation and prohibition disappear completely.

"Let's get out of here." - His voice sounded almost like an order, but you knew it was not just a desire. It was a need. Your shared need for each other.

You nodded, and he immediately took your hand, intertwining your fingers. You left the hall quickly, without looking back. The night city greeted you with cool air, but a fire burned inside you.

Jungkook opened the car door for you, and you got in, feeling your heart pounding madly in your chest. He quickly walked around the car, got behind the wheel, and in a moment you were already pulling out of the parking lot.

"Where are we going?" - You asked, even though the answer wasn't that important. Jungkook gave you a dark, hot, intoxicating look.

"To my place." - He answered. Your heart literally threatens to jump out of your chest. The sensation of butterflies in your stomach excites you to incredible emotions. He puts his tattooed hand on your thigh, as if to claim you. You can feel your underwear getting wet in anticipation of what will happen at Jungkook's house.

"This is crazy." - You say, barely audible. Jungkook smiled.

"And you like it." - He said, still smiling. You wanted to deny it, but why would you, when it's really true.

Jungkook closes the door behind you, and you immediately find yourself pressed against the wall. His lips are so demanding, so powerful over yours. Your insides tremble because it's all so familiar to you. It feels like the six months of separation just didn't happen.

Your hot breath mingled with his as he pulled away from you to take a breath. He was looking at your face. Your eyes were slightly squinted, your lips swollen from kissing, your skin burning from his touch. You were as beautiful as the first night he fell in love with you.

"Are we really going to do this?" - You asked. Your voice broke into a whisper as he ran his fingertips down your neck, along your collarbone, and even lower to the neckline of your dress.

"Yes..." - He says hoarsely, between kisses on your neck. "I should stop, shouldn't I?" - He asks your opinion. You want to moan as he bites your skin and then runs his tongue over the spot.

"Jungkook..." - You breathe out. You don't know if you're begging him to continue or to stop. He stops kissing your neck. Your faces are separated by a few centimeters.

"Last chance to say no, my love." - He says. Fuck, he called you "love," he called you that because he loved you, does he still love you? You ran your fingers along his jaw, gently but firmly.

"Do you want me to say it?" - You ask with a challenge. Let him decide too, you are not the only one responsible for your actions. He squeezes your buttocks with his hands.

"No." - Jungkook says confidently. You smile seductively, giving him the green light. But he's in no hurry to continue what he's started. You know he's waiting for the words.

"Fuck me, love." - You ask. Jungkook's cock twitches in his boxers when he hears those words. Fuck. How can you say that so easily? He's going crazy. He throws himself on your lips, pressing his strong body against yours. His tongue enters your mouth with authority and finds yours. Six months. Six fucking months he wanted you back. He dreamed that you would be in his hands like this. And he made a promise to himself that if he could get you back, he would never let you go again.

Your underwear is getting wet. You are so excited that you think you will burn with passion. Jungkook's tongue seems to be punishing you for being away for so long. His hands are squeezing the meat on your buttocks with good pressure. He picks you up in his arms, and you only cry out softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jungkook puts you down on the floor in his bedroom, interrupting your unrestrained kisses. He lightly touches your silk shoulder and runs his finger under the strap of your dress. He sees your erect nipples through the fabric of your dress. One movement and the shoulder strap is on falling down. He does the same with the other strap. He pulls down the silk and it slides over your figure.

As the dress falls to the floor, gathering at your feet, a picture he literally imagined when he saw it at the party flashes before his eyes.

His cock hardens even more, because your naked body is a frenzy. It's his weakness. That's what makes him commit sin.

He takes your tits in his hands and squeezes it. He feels that you are real. That he is not dreaming about you, as he has been for the last six months. He bends down and eagerly sucks on your erect nipple. Oh, it's a rosebud on his tongue. It tastes so sweet. Jungkook plays with your nipple with his tongue. When he sucks harder, you feel pain, pain that brings pleasure and sweet agony. Jungkook massages the other breast in his hand, and then smoothly moves to the other breast to savor it as well.

You throw your head back and enjoy his actions. You're addicted to the way he crosses the line.

Your pussy is throbbing and you're wetter than ever. You haven't had intimate relations since you broke up with Jungkook, so now you're just going crazy with every move.

Jungkook pulls away from your chest and smiles. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his hard cock sticking out of his pants.

He comes close and puts one arm around your waist. You watch him closely. He leans in and you think he's going to kiss you. You even close your eyes, but when nothing happens, you open them to check where he is. He's right there, and he's wearing a cheeky, sly smile.

"Let's see how wet my girl is." - He suggests. His hand goes into your panties, instantly finding your excited clit. He presses his fingers on it and you forget how to breathe.

"Fuck. Honey, is this waterfall for me?" - He asks you, and you can't answer him because you're losing your mind to his movements on your clit. You moan, loud and seductive. Jungkook can't help but kiss you. He covers your lips with his own and kisses you deeply, hotly, while building up your orgasm with his fingers.

You moan into his lips. Jungkook plunges two fingers into your passage and wants to curse. He forgot how tight it is in here. He's angry, thinking that someone else could be in that pussy besides him. So his movements and kisses become rougher.

The pressure he creates with his fingers excites you even more. You like it, but it's not enough because it's not his cock.

Jungkook gently lays you down on the bed, which is so familiar. It has witnessed your love so many times. Jungkook pulls down your thong. He looks at your pussy with great greed, the thong sliding down your slender legs. When your underwear is in his hand, he is in no hurry to throw it away. He touches the fabric with his nose, inhaling your scent.

"This is what my love smells like." - He says. You blush. This is so damn intimate. Jungkook throws your thong somewhere near your dress at floor. You watching him.

He's still as handsome as ever. A slim, toned body where every muscle is visible when it moves. You know so well what those muscles are to the touch. Only he seems to have new tattoos on his right arm. You notice that the eye that was below the elbow is gone, and now there is a green ink mark that says "bulletproof" instead. Oh yes, it's really about him.

"Did you have sex with anyone after me?" - Jungkook distracts you from looking at his tattoos. You raise one eyebrow. Why would he want to know in the middle of your lovemaking?

"Why do you ask?" - You don't answer, but ask your own question. Jungkook takes off his pants and throws them somewhere else.

"Answer me." - He says with authority. And this word sounds more like an order. You resent this. Why do you have to talk to him about it? You, for example, know without a doubt that he has definitely fucked some girls.

"Does it matter to you?" - You ask, not listening to his order. It matters to him. He was your first man, and the thought of anyone touching your body, which is unprecedentedly his, pisses him off.

Jungkook takes off his boxers. You can see his cock, hard and erect, hitting his thighs. You salivate at the sight of it. Jungkook's nude figure drives you crazy. You dream of him entering you and finally destroying you and all your desires not to be with him.

Jungkook approaches you dangerously.

He grabs your ankle and pulls you to the edge of the bed with a sharp movement. You scream, not expecting him to do this. He sits you down on the edge of the bed and leans in almost touching you. His lips are near yours and his breath burns your skin.

"Answer me when I ask you questions. Because when I want to know something, it's important to me. So, will you tell me? Did some dickhead touch my pussy? Or at least your tits, which also belong to me?" - He speaks low and commanding. His voice echoes in your head. How does he have such power over you? Why are you so excited by these words? You want to tease him more. You know it could be dangerous, but you've always been a gambler.

"What would you do if I told you that dickhead were?" - You ask. Your words have an immediate effect on Jungkook. His eyebrows raise and his eyes darken with rage. He lifts you up, pulling on your arm. It doesn't hurt, but it's sharp. He presses you down and you feel his erect cock resting against your pussy.

"So you're saying you were?" - He asks, but his voice isn't as hard as he looks. "You promised you'd be mine alone. My little slut. You wouldn't let anyone fuck your pussy. You're lying to me." - He says, smiling defiantly.

"I didn't lie. I asked you what you would do if I was like you and found a free cock? Huh?" - You ask with the same audacity. Jungkook squeezes your buttocks.

"I'd wipe him off the face of the earth." - He says casually. "Because he touched something that's mine."

"I'm not yours." - You say. But what are you saying? You are his. Every cell of that body belongs to him. You can't be with other men because you've never met anyone who can compare to him.

"Mine." - He argues with a wide smile on his lips. It makes you angry, even though you agree with him. "You're still mine... that's why you're here now. No one can touch you like I can, no one can love you like I can, no one can fuck you like I can, no one can keep your secrets like I can. I will give you all of this, and I will never let you go." - The lump in your throat prevents you from breathing normally.

You hold back the tears that threaten to fall down. Let these words be true. Let him keep his promise. Because you want to be with him. Jungkook breaks into you with a kiss to assure you of his words. Two lonely tears drops melt between your hot kiss. Jungkook pulls away and you breathe heavily into his lips. He wipes away the tear tracks with his thumbs.

"I haven't had anyone." - You confess, your voice desperate. "I couldn't even bear a strange man touching my body. So you are right. I couldn't be with anyone else." - Jungkook smiles with satisfaction. He knew that.

Jungkook sits on the edge of the bed and invites you to sit on his lap. You climb on top, holding onto his shoulders. Jungkook's cock lies between you, and you look hopefully between your bodies. Jungkook touches your chin with two fingers and lifts it, forcing you to look at him.

"I need to stretch you first, baby. You haven't had sex in a long time." - Jungkook says with pleasure in his voice. You nod your head in agreement.

Jungkook puts one hand on your hip and moves the other to your pussy. He dips one finger into the passage and moves the top down, creating some friction. You sigh blissfully, closing your eyes. After a while, he plunges his other finger in. The pressure increases and you moan softly. And when Jungkook plunges his third finger in, you feel a slight discomfort. It's only his fingers, when he puts his cock in it will hurt.

Jungkook has stretched you properly, and then he invites you to ride him.

"Give me a good ride." - He asks you. You smile and get up to sit on his attractive cock. Jungkook puts his cock’s head against your entrance and presses. You slowly lower yourself and when his tip plunges into your passage, you almost immediately feel pain. You scream out in pain and he stops, but not for long. He gives you a few seconds and then pushes down on your hips, lowering you. You're in pain, and you bite your lip to hold back your screams.

Finally you are filled with his cock to the brim. You feel it twitching inside you.

"Fuckin' shit." - Jungkook curses. He holds back as best he can. He really forgot how tight you are.

You sit like this for no more than half a minute. In the meantime, Jungkook has been working on your clit to get you used to its length. You squeeze his shoulders. He kisses you and you want to get down to the real business.

You start moving on his hips, lifting yours. The first movements are accompanied by pain. But after a while it feels good. You squirm on his lap and let out strangled moans. Jungkook helps you by supporting your hips and admires his beloved's face. It eloquently shows pleasure.

"How do you like riding my cock? Huh, baby? Did you miss it?" - Jungkook asks playfully. His voice breaks because you're riding his cock so well.

"Yeah..." - You answer in a long breath. It feels so good, it's pure ecstasy, it's euphoria. You're chasing an orgasm and he's taking you there.

"Let's make this reconciliation unforgettable." - Jungkook suggests. He takes over the initiative with his hands. He squeezes your thighs harder and pushes you deep and sharp. Your head is spinning from these movements. You bite your lips again, but Jungkook moves closer to you. "Don't hold back the moans I deserve." - He orders. You stop biting your lips, and now your loud moans fill the entire room.

Jungkook has found just the right spot. You feel like you're about to come. Your fingernails tear off the skin on his shoulders.

"Love..." - You call out to him. "I'm close."

Jungkook absorbs your expression with an absolutely lustful gaze. He speeds up his movements, but not so that he can come. He's definitely not done with you yet. You raise and lower your hips on Jungkook's lap to finally have the orgasm you've been waiting for.

When the knot in your lower abdomen is untied, you throw your head back and moan long and hard. Your velvety walls are squeezed by Jungkook's cock, and he jerks you upward to keep from cumming himself. You don't realize it right away. Only when you're on your knees, resting your pussy against Jungkook's abs, and you feel his hands on your buttocks.

"What a good girl. You have your first orgasm." - He counts.

Jungkook orders you to lie down on the pillows and spread your legs for him. He positions himself between your legs without sinking into you. He kisses you on the lips, filling your mouth with his tongue. Your tongues intertwine in a dance of love and passion. When you need air, Jungkook breaks the kiss. He goes down to your jaw, then your neck. He savored every inch of your skin, memorizing it again, as if he were discovering something long forgotten but painfully familiar.

He covered your body with kisses until he was in front of your pussy. The memory of his tongue on your clit makes you wet. Jungkook kisses your folds with a weightless kiss, and you're already trembling. He smiles out of the corner of his mouth.

"I forgot how sweet she is." - He comments. You lift your head to see him between your legs. He kisses the inside of your thighs, not wanting to leave an inch of skin on you that he hasn't kissed.

When he begins to lick your clit, making circular motions around your clit, you can't hold your head up. You fall back on the pillows. Your back arches unconsciously. Jungkook squeezes your buttocks and then sucks on your center. You moan again, and Jungkook thinks he'll never get tired of the sound. He's happy that he's the only one who hears these sounds.

You come on his tongue very quickly. Your swollen, excited clit didn't need much attention. You jerk on his tongue and Jungkook presses his tongue against your center to make sure you have your second orgasm of the night as long as possible.

You stop twitching and breathe heavily. Jungkook kneels down by your spread legs and you can see his beard glistening with your juice. He wipes his chin with his hand and comes closer to you.

"Is my baby satisfied?" - He asks. You are almost unable to speak. You smile and barely speak.

"It was just as fucking gorgeous as ever.” - Jungkook laughs heartily, and once again wants to kiss you. You taste your cum on his tongue. His kisses become slower, deeper.

"I've been waiting for this for so long..." - His voice was quiet, almost hoarse, when he broke away from your lips. You, too, had secretly dreamed that you would have the opportunity to be together again. And who knows how it all will worked out.

Jungkook plunged into you again. His cock entered you painlessly this time. You couldn't get enough, because this is what you will always need. You bent to meet his touch, feeling your bodies merging in a single rhythm.

Every movement was slow, as if he wanted to prolong this moment as long as possible.

Jungkook knew every curve of your body, every weakness that made you sigh and tremble. But this time it was different. Deeper. Stronger. It wasn't just desire. It was something more.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as your lips found each other again. He was everything to you that night - a fire that burned from the inside out, and a sea that enveloped you in its waves.

He took his time.

You didn't want it to end.

Your breaths mingle, hot and uneven, as his movements become stronger. He feels a wave of some new emotions, as if he is rediscovering a familiar body.

"You have no idea how much I..." - Jungkook stops, his lips barely touching yours. You open your eyes and stare into his handsome face. You notice beads of sweat on his face and a few loose strands of hair.

"How much what?" - Your voice sounds almost hoarse, and he smiles because he knows you're on the verge.

"How much I missed you." - He finally whispers. You don't have time to say anything because Jungkook is pushing you. You lie in his arms. Your legs are intertwined around his waist. He is deep inside you and this is the best moment of the whole year.

His movements are slow and deep at first, but with each new one he speeds up. He fucks you like never before, and you close your eyes, enjoying the sensation. You feel another orgasm coming over you. Jungkook's hips thrust fast and you choke on the sweetest orgasm of the night.

Jungkook comes after you, filling you to the brim with cum. He jerks inside you for a while and stops only when he releases himself with a whimper.

He collapses into the crook of your neck and you both breathe heavily. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. His heavy breathing mingles with yours, and your heart hasn't yet returned to its normal rhythm. Your throat is dry, and you urgently need water.

Jungkook finally stands up and smiles at you with satisfaction. You reflexively do the same.

"You... water?" - Your voice breaks, and you're almost ashamed of how weak it sounds. Jungkook smiles slightly, realizing that you're asking him for water.

"Just a moment, my love." - He says and pecking on your lips. He gently pulls out of you. You try to sit up and cover yourself with the blanket you had sex on.

Jungkook puts on his boxers, finds a bottle of water on the table, unscrews the cap, and hands it to you. You take a few sips, trying to come to your senses. Jungkook sits down next to you, rests his hands on the bed on either side of your hips, and looks you straight in the eye.

"I don't want to let you go anymore." - He says clearly. You freeze.

"Jungkook..." - You want to say something, but you find yourself unceremoniously interrupted by him.

"I'm serious." - He interrupts. "I was an idiot for letting you leave back then. I thought it was for the best, that you and I would destroy each other if we stayed together. But you know what? It was even worse without you."

You look at him, feeling something hot squeezing your chest.

"I don't know if..." - If we should start again. You want to say. But he interrupts you again. The conversations during sex were frank, but now that you're back to reality, things are just as complicated as they were.

"I know." - His large hands gently wrap around yours. "And I'm going to do everything I can to make up for my mistakes. I don't want just one night, Y/N. I want everything. I want you. I want our future."

You see the sincerity in his dark eyes, and it almost scares you. You're afraid, even though you really want to start over.

"What if it doesn't work out again?" - You share your worries.

"I will make it work. Every day. Every time you doubt, I'll prove to you that I love you more than ever." - He leans in slowly, giving you a chance to stop him. But you don't. Your lips meet again, and this time the kiss is not so hot, not so hasty. It's deeper, more tender.

Like a hope.

Like a promise.

"Let's try again." - You agree. You look into his eyes, reading everything he didn't say out loud: fear, hope, devotion. Jungkook has never been a man to give up easily, and now he was proving it again.

Your fingers involuntarily squeeze his hand, as if checking to see if he is real, if this moment is real.

"Do you promise we will?"

He leans in even closer, his forehead touching yours.

"I promise." - He whispers. And this time you believe him.

Like the northern lights that appear only at certain moments, your feelings had their peaks and troughs, but they were always on the horizon. You could get lost in each other, disappear, losing light, but you came back, blooming with new colors.

Because your love is like the sky itself. Eternal. Unpredictable. And worth waiting for.

[foreveia]

take two ⤨ iwaizumi hajime

⨭ genre; fluff, idiots to lovers but like they're actually so dumb

⨭ pairing; iwaizumi x fem!reader

⨭ word count; 5.7k

⨭ descriptions; your boss has been trying to set you up with her son for months, but as it turns out at the holiday party... you've already met him before.

⨭ warnings; explicit language and dialogue, no graphic content tho, alcohol

⨭ a/n; fun little short fic to fill the fix to publish something lolol enjoy this iwa love dump as i work on my next long fic (tell me in the comments if y'all like these better)

one.

There are exactly three things you know to be true about Iwaizumi Emi:

She is the best divorce attorney in Tohoku, possibly the country.

She is the kind of woman who could negotiate her way out of murder charges and secure the victim’s house in the settlement.

She is, without a doubt, trying to set you up with her son.

You respect her. You admire her. You are, on occasion, lowkey terrified of her.

Which is why you’re currently sitting at your desk, nodding at all the appropriate intervals while she breezes through yet another pitch about why her son and you are, in her professional opinion, a perfect match.

“He’s back from Irvine for the summer,” she says, skimming a property settlement document like it personally offended her. She tosses it onto your pile nonchalantly, and you let out a short sigh because it’s just more backend filing to do and, despite your adoration for your career path and real passion towards legal work, entry jobs in the firm are mostly busy work. “I really think you’ll like him. He’s—”

You tune out. Not in an obvious way, of course—no, you’re a professional. You sprinkle in the occasional mmhmm and sounds great so she doesn’t catch on, but this isn’t your first rodeo. You’ve heard this pitch before—multiple times. Hajime is intelligent, responsible, not an idiot like some of these men out here, blah blah blah.

It’s not that you have anything against him, really. It’s just that you’ve spent months perfecting the art of dodging your boss’s matchmaking attempts, and frankly, you don’t have the energy to entertain her latest scheme.

“You’re finally going to meet him at the firm’s ball this weekend,” Emi continues, finally looking up from her paperwork, her smile entirely too satisfied.

You blink. “Oh.”

“He’s excited to meet you too.”

Now that is new. Usually, these monologues are strictly one-sided—I told him about you! and You two will get along so well! But he’s excited to meet you too? That’s an escalation. That’s a game-changer. That means he knows about you. He has an opinion about you.

You resist the urge to groan. Instead, you summon a polite, professional smile—the same one you use when dealing with particularly insufferable clients. “Looking forward to it,” you say, because what else are you supposed to say to the woman who could single-handedly end your career if she wanted to?

In reality, the only thing you’re looking forward to about the ball is the open bar. Being in your early twenties means being woefully broke, and you’d be lying if you said the thought of unlimited free alcohol wasn’t a strong motivator.

So, you strike a deal with yourself: you’ll put on a fancy dress, endure painful heels, and let Emi parade you in front of her son like a prize show poodle—all in exchange for an endless supply of pinot noir, cocktail shrimp, and, if you play your cards right, an entire bottle of champagne to sneak home in your purse.

It’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make.

two.

Because you’re an adult with an absolutely thriving social life (read: you have two friends who are willing to tolerate your bullshit after 6 PM), you, Yachi, and Kiyoko are now seated at your favorite little izakaya, wedged into a corner booth with plates of karaage and a pitcher of beer between you. 

Kiyoko is talking about wedding venues. Because she’s engaged. To Tanaka. Which is objectively insane because in your head, they’re still in that “grossly obsessed with each other but pretending they’re just friends” phase, even though they’ve been together for years. The whole thing is a crime against single people everywhere, but you are supportive because your already jaw-dropping friend is somehow glowing even brighter now that she has a fat rock on her ring finger. She looks lighter, happier. She deserves it.

Yachi, meanwhile, is explaining—between delicate sips of her beer—that she’s too swamped with work to even think about dating. Which, yeah. Fair. The woman works harder than most people you know, so you respect it.

Then, as the conversation naturally shifts to your love life (as it always does, because you’re the group’s designated mess), you sigh, sinking into your seat dramatically.

“I haven’t had sex in months.”

There’s a beat of silence before Kiyoko and Yachi both roll their eyes in unison, like they rehearsed it.

“Oh my God,” Yachi mutters.

“You cannot still be caught up on GDD,” Kiyoko says flatly, pouring herself another drink.

“Okay, first of all,” you say, holding up a finger, “it is not about him. It’s just a general fact about my current state of being.”

“Uh-huh,” Kiyoko hums, entirely unconvinced.

“Second of all,” you continue, undeterred, “GDD was life-changing, and I feel like I should be allowed to mourn the lack of that level of—of excellence in my life.”

“Life-changing,” Yachi repeats, deadpan. “You hooked up with him once.”

“Yeah, and my life was changed.”

GDD—Good Dick Dude, as he has been dubbed by your dear, unsupportive friends—was a guy you hooked up with in January after a truly legendary New Year’s Eve party.

The night itself had been pure chaos. Hinata had somehow scored an invite to this insane rooftop party—one of those bougie, exclusive, if-you-know-you-know events where you absolutely do not belong but somehow manage to fake it enough to get through the door. He’d gotten a few plus-ones, which is how you ended up there, sipping champagne you definitely couldn’t afford and making out with a guy who, to this day, remains one of the most mind-blowing hookups of your entire life.

Gorgeous, buff, and dangerous with his hands. The kind of guy who knew exactly what he was doing, which, honestly? A rarity these days. You barely remember his name—something short, easy to moan—but you do remember his stupidly perfect smirk and the way he all but ruined you against the nearest flat surface.

But then the party ended, the night faded into a haze, and you never saw him again.

Which is fine. It’s fine. Really.

You’re definitely not still thinking about it.

Kiyoko takes a sip of her beer, unimpressed. “You’ve been on, what? Five Hinge dates since then? Six?”

“Seven,” Yachi corrects.

You point at her. “Exactly.”

Kiyoko gives you a long, slow blink.

“I mean that as proof that I am not hung up on him!” you clarify. “I’ve been trying, okay? But the bar is in hell. Do you know how many ‘we should get drinks’ texts I get from guys who put crypto investor in their bios?”

Kiyoko sighs. “Okay, but let’s be real—are you actually giving any of these guys a chance?”

You open your mouth. Close it. Frown. “I mean… like… conceptually?”

“Right.”

Yachi, forever gentle but devastatingly perceptive, tilts her head at you. “Is it possible,” she says carefully, “that maybe none of these guys are measuring up because you’re subconsciously comparing them to him?”

You scoff. “That’s ridiculous.”

Is it ridiculous?

Because, okay, maybe—just maybe—no one has quite lived up to that night. And maybe you’re being a little unfair to the dating pool by expecting every single guy to have that same kind of chemistry with you. And maybe you do occasionally find yourself staring at random ceilings, wondering where GDD is now and if he even remembers you.

But still. That doesn’t mean anything.

You’re pretty sure.

“I hate you guys,” you grumble, stabbing aggressively at a piece of karaage.

Yachi pats your hand sympathetically. “We know.”

Kiyoko, ever the queen of smooth topic transitions, nudges the conversation in a new direction. “Speaking of your questionable taste in men, your boss is still trying to set you up with her son, correct?”

You groan, letting your head fall back against the booth. “Unfortunately, yes. And now, apparently, he’s excited to meet me.”

Yachi perks up. “Wait, so you are meeting him?”

“At the firm’s ball this weekend,” you say, waving a hand. “It’s fine. I’ll get a little wine drunk, take advantage of the seafood bar.”

Kiyoko raises an eyebrow. “So, you’re not going to entertain the idea of this Hajime guy at all?”

You scoff. “Absolutely not.”

Yachi hums, tilting her head in that way she does when she’s about to say something devastatingly reasonable. “I mean… what if Emi’s right?”

You blink. “What?”

“What if this is it?” she says, half-teasing, half-genuinely curious. “Like, what if you meet him and he’s actually your soulmate? Imagine if this whole time, your boss has been playing the long game, orchestrating your love story like some kind of corporate fairy godmother.”

You snort. Loudly. “Right. Because that’s totally my luck.”

Kiyoko and Yachi exchange a knowing look, but they let it go.

You take another sip of your beer, shaking your head. Hajime Iwaizumi—whoever he is—is not the love of your life.

That would be insane.

three.

You had to pull out your graduate school formal gown from the back of your closet for this, but wow, you really forgot just how good you look in red.

Your day-to-day work attire consists of pantsuits and button-ups, neatly tucked into cautiously ironed trousers, so you’ve honestly forgotten how nice it is to get dressed up once in a while. There’s something about slipping into a gown that fits like a dream, sweeping your hair up just right, and swiping on that perfect shade of lipstick that makes you feel invincible. Like you could negotiate a million-dollar deal, steal the firm’s best clients, and seduce someone’s husband all in the same breath.

Not that you would, obviously.

Probably.

The venue is ridiculous in the way all law firm events are ridiculous—held in a ballroom large enough to house a small country, chandeliers dripping in gold, servers weaving through the crowd with trays of champagne and fancy bruschetta topped with fucking caviar of all things. All this just to celebrate another year of making money off people’s divorces. Incredible the way capitalism works.

You’ve barely made it through your first glass of wine before Emi finds you.

“There she is,” she croons, linking her arm through yours. She looks positively radiant in an emerald gown, diamonds at her ears, and the kind of effortless elegance that comes from winning. You’d respect it more if she weren’t actively dragging you toward your inevitable doom. “Come on, sweetheart. Hajime’s here, and I cannot wait for you two to finally meet.”

You bite back a sigh, because of course. No warm-up period, no buffer—just straight to the matchmaking. “Can’t I get a few more drinks in me first?”

She waves a hand, utterly dismissing your complaints. “You’ll like him. I know you will.”

You doubt it. But you let her lead you anyway, mostly because you know resisting is pointless: your boss has the world’s most spell-blinding smile and enough charm to always get her way. Emi always wins.

She stops near the bar, where a man stands with his back to you, broad shoulders wrapped in a sharp black suit, one hand resting on the counter as he talks with someone just out of view.

Emi squeezes your hand. “Hajime,” she calls, her voice warm.

The man turns.

And every thought in your head immediately ceases to exist.

Because standing before you, looking unfairly good in a tailored suit and sipping from a glass of whiskey like he isn’t single-handedly ruining your life, is GDD.

Good Dick Dude.

Hajime Iwaizumi is Good Dick Dude.

Your brain short-circuits. This is not happening. This is some kind of fever dream, a cruel trick played by the universe to punish you for your sins.

Hajime’s sharp green eyes land on you, recognition flickering behind them, and then—oh no. 

He smirks. Like he knows exactly what’s running through your mind right now. Like he remembers everything.

Emi, completely unaware of your crisis, beams. “Hajime, this is the associate I’ve been telling you about.”

His mischievous, more than just amused smile widens. “Oh, I know who she is.”

Your soul leaves your body.

Because that voice? That voice is the same one that had whispered filth against your neck four months ago. The same voice that had laughed when you moaned his name. The same voice that had ruined you in ways you still haven’t fully recovered from.

You are going to die. Right here, right now, in the middle of this godforsaken gala.

“Hajime Iwaizumi,” he says smoothly, offering a hand. His palm is rough when you take it—calloused, strong, a stark reminder of exactly where those hands have been. His grip is firm, steady, and entirely too knowing.

You swallow, pasting on the best Oh wow, I am totally not spiraling internally smile you can manage. “Yeah,” you say weakly. “We’ve met.”

“Oh!” Emi beams, clasping her hands together like she’s just delighted by this new revelation. “That’s wonderful! I knew you two would get along.”

You let out a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a strangled choke. Hajime is still watching you, head tilted slightly, like he’s enjoying this: like he can see the exact moment you realize how deeply, horrifically screwed you are. Because there is no way Emi knows. She’s too composed, too pleased. If she had any inkling that her son and her associate had met four months ago in a completely inappropriate context, she’d have you both buried in litigation faster than you could say conflict of interest.

Which means Hajime is choosing to be a menace.

God, you’re going to kill him.

“Hajime just got back from Irvine a few days ago, for the start of his summer break,” Emi continues, completely oblivious to the absolute war waging behind your polite smile. “I’ve been telling him all about you, of course.”

You almost choke on your drink. “You have?”

“Of course I have!” Emi nods enthusiastically. “She’s one of the brightest associates we have, Hajime. Sharp, diligent, absolutely ruthless in negotiations—she reminds me of myself when I was her age.”

Your lips twitch. You do enjoy being compared to the most terrifying woman you’ve ever met, so it’s really too bad that this entire situation has you currently dying inside.

Hajime hums, eyes still locked on you. “Yeah,” he says, voice dipping just slightly. “She’s definitely memorable.”

Your entire body lights on fire.

Memorable.

Oh, he’s being insufferable on purpose.

Emi sighs happily, taking a sip of her champagne. “I knew you two would hit it off.”

You want to scream. You want to throw your drink in Hajime’s face. You want to rewind time and never step foot into that rooftop party.

Instead, you just smile tightly. “Mm-hmm.”

Hajime grins at your suffering. “So,” he says, tilting his glass in your direction, “how have you been?”

You resist the urge to kick him in the shins. “Busy,” you say, voice clipped. “Working.”

“Ah,” he says, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, that does sound like you.”

You stiffen. Hajime, you realize, is having the time of his life watching you squirm. And it’s only going to get worse.

Because Emi suddenly claps her hands together, eyes bright with mischief. “Oh! I should leave you two to chat,” she says. “Get to know each other properly.”

Oh. Oh no. Emi. Emi, please.

But before you can protest, she winks at you—winks, like she’s a fairy godmother orchestrating the perfect romance—and disappears back into the crowd.

And just like that, you are alone with him.

Hajime watches you over the rim of his glass, eyes gleaming with amusement. “So,” he says, smirking, “I see you haven’t forgotten me.”

Your jaw clenches. “You smug little—”

“You look good,” he interrupts smoothly, scanning you from head to toe. His gaze lingers, appreciative but blatantly teasing. “Red suits you.”

God, you want to strangle him. You cross your arms, willing yourself to stay calm. “You knew this whole time, didn’t you?”

He chuckles. “I had a feeling.”

“A feeling?”

He tilts his head, as if contemplating. “Well,” he says, “it wasn’t confirmed until I saw you.”

You glare. “You could’ve warned me.”

“And miss that reaction?” He grins. “Not a chance.”

You hate him. You hate that he looks so effortlessly good in a suit. You hate that his voice is still just as devastating as you remember. You hate that even now, months later, you can still feel the phantom weight of his hands on your hips, the rough scrape of his callouses against your skin, the way he had murmured just like that, baby against your ear—

You inhale sharply. Nope. Absolutely not. We are not thinking about that right now.

Hajime, unfortunately, definitely knows what you’re thinking about. His smirk is downright criminal. “So,” he says, leaning in slightly, voice low, “been a while, hasn’t it?”

You refuse to give him the satisfaction of blushing. “Oh, shut up.”

He laughs, warm and amused, and you are horribly aware that this night is only just beginning.

four.

Hajime happens to actually be a pretty intelligent and funny person, which is making it much, much harder to dodge his attempts at flirting and his mother’s attempts at forced-proximity matchmaking.

It was supposed to be easy. You were supposed to sip your wine, endure some polite small talk, and then fade into the crowd before Emi could corner you into any serious you’d make such a beautiful couple talk. But instead, you’re somehow still here, talking to him, because Hajime Iwaizumi is annoyingly easy to talk to.

Which is not fair. It’s not fair at all, actually.

He makes it look effortless, like this isn’t completely unhinged, like it’s not absolutely deranged that your boss has spent months trying to set you up with a man who has already—

You take a sip of your wine. You are not going to finish that thought.

Hajime watches you over the rim of his whiskey glass, looking entirely too entertained by this whole situation. “You seem tense.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t argue. “Hey, could be worse,” he says. “At least my mom has good taste.”

You choke on your sip, feeling the bubbles tingle in your nose and really regretting every life decision you’ve made in the last six months. “Oh, my God.”

He laughs, tilting his glass in a mock toast.

You squint at him, wary and slightly annoyed, unable to fathom how he’s not also dying at this situation. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“I mean…” He shrugs, all easy amusement. “I’m just saying—this could be a lot worse. Imagine if she was trying to set you up with someone actually terrible.”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, swirling your wine. “You’re already pretty high on my list of worst-case scenarios.”

“See, now that hurts.”

You roll your eyes. “You’ll live.”

Before Hajime can respond—before you can regain any sense of control over this conversation—Emi appears out of nowhere, her eyes shining.

“There you two are!” she says, absolutely beaming. “It’s time for the first dance!”

You freeze.

Hajime—the absolute traitor—just raises an eyebrow. “First dance?”

“Yes! It’s tradition,” Emi says, already ushering you toward the ballroom floor. “Senior partners and their dates open the dance floor—it’s been that way for years.”

You dig your heels into the floor. “But I’m not—”

“Now, sweetheart,” Emi interrupts, entirely ignoring your panic, “you wouldn’t want to break tradition, would you?”

You stare at her, betrayed.

She smiles.

Oh, she planned this.

Hajime, standing beside you, lets out a quiet, amused sigh before draining the last of his whiskey. “Well,” he says, offering you a hand, “guess we should give the people what they want.”

You glare at him. “I hate you.”

“Uh-huh,” he says. “That’s why you’re still holding my hand.”

You drop it immediately.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop him from leading you on to the dance floor. His hand slides around your waist, pulling you gently to the center of the ballroom; you’re struggling to ignore the far too many pairs of eyes on you two as he rearranges your arms around his neck.

And—oh, hell.

You forgot how solid he is.

His grip is firm but steady, his palm warm where it rests against your back. He moves easily, like this isn’t completely ridiculous, like your brain isn’t currently melting out of your ears.

“Relax,” Hajime murmurs.

You scowl. “I am relaxed.”

His lips twitch. “Yeah, totally.”

You hate him. You hate the way he’s looking at you—amused, interested, entirely too smug for someone who has already ruined your life once.

He leads you into a slow, easy step, and goddamn it, of course he’s good at this, too. His movements are effortless, confident. He keeps the rhythm perfectly, and you hate that you match him so well.

He tilts his head, watching you. “You’re thinking really hard about something.”

“No, I’m not.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Right. So you’re definitely not thinking about how good I am at this.”

You promptly step on his foot. He laughs, and it ignites your hatefire even more.

“Asshole,” you mutter.

“I was going to say you look good tonight,” he muses, unfazed. “But now I don’t know if you deserve the compliment.”

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

Hajime smirks. “Touchy.”

He spins you as the music hits a crescendo, dropping you abruptly into a dip that catches you heavily off-guard. It makes you lock your fingers tighter around his neck, and when he lifts you back up, you nearly slam right into his very, very firm chest (what the hell, is this man made entirely of protein?), face first.

“What the fuck?” you huff, a little winded. “You are actually a horrible human being.”

Hajime hums, tilting his head slightly, his eyes flickering with something too smug, too entertained. “You keep saying that,” he muses, voice low enough that it barely carries past the space between you, “but I think you just like having someone to complain about.”

Before you can deliver a scathing reply, he tugs you a fraction closer. It’s subtle, barely noticeable to anyone watching, but you feel it—the shift of his fingers pressing against the small of your back, the way your body slots against his just enough for warmth to pass between you.

Your breath catches, and it’s infuriating how he notices. How his hold tightens, like he can read every single thought running through your head and is thrilled by it.

“You’re such a dick,” you frown, shifting slightly, trying to put some space between you.

Hajime chuckles, and the sound is entirely too satisfied. His mouth is right by your ear, so you practically feel it more than you really hear it, when he murmurs, “And what are you gonna do about it?”

Your brain short-circuits.

Because that—that—is not fair.

That is the kind of thing a man should not be allowed to say in that voice, in that low, teasing rumble, into your ear, while holding you against him like this.

It happens before you can even think about it.

Before you can register that you are, in fact, in the middle of a ballroom at your company’s annual gala. Before you can process the reality that Emi is somewhere in this crowd, and she has already been insufferable about this whole ordeal.

Before any of that can hit you, you grab the lapels of his stupidly well-fitted suit, tilt your chin up, and kiss him.

It’s instant, sharp, devastating. Your hands tighten against his chest as you crash into him, and Hajime—because he is the worst person alive—immediately reacts.

One hand presses firm into your back, the other finding its way to your jaw, fingers curling just slightly as he deepens the kiss without hesitation. His lips are warm, just the right mix of soft and steady, and when he angles his head just so—his nose brushing against yours, his thumb skimming your cheek—you feel yourself sink, like he’s pulling you under and you don’t even mind drowning.

It should not be this good.

It should not set your pulse racing like this, make you forget for a single, damning second that this is the worst possible thing you could be doing right now.

But it does. And for just a moment, nothing else exists. Not the party. Not the music. Not the fact that literally everyone is watching you right now. Just the heat of his mouth, the firm press of his fingers at your back, the way he exhales sharply like he wasn’t expecting this either, but he’s not about to stop it, not for anything in the world. 

And then you remember where you are.

You rip yourself away, blinking rapidly, your brain racing to catch up with what you just did.

And that is the moment you hear it: the loudest, most delighted squeal of your entire existence.

Your stomach plummets.

Because standing at the edge of the ballroom, her hands clasped together in sheer glee, is none other than Emi Iwaizumi herself. And she is positively vibrating with joy.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she gushes, and the way she looks at you is the exact way someone would look at their child who just announced they were getting married. “I knew it! I knew you two would be perfect together!”

Your soul leaves your body. You stare at her, horrified. You slowly turn back to Hajime—who, because he is an absolute menace, is still standing entirely too close, still holding you just slightly like he isn’t ready to let go.

And he is smiling.

The kind of smile that says I win. The kind of smile that says he is absolutely going to remind you of this for the rest of your natural life.

You physically have to stop yourself from shoving him away.

Instead, you inhale, sharp and deep, and will yourself to stay calm. Emi is still talking. She is still gushing. And you cannot deal with whatever she’s about to say next, so before she can so much as breathe, you turn back to Hajime, seize his wrist, and drag him off the dance floor, because if you don’t get away from this immediately, you are actually going to die of secondhand embarrassment and shame.

five.

This is because of your dry spell.

Your dry spell is the reason why your entire sense of self-control and awareness have gone out the window, and the reason why, now that you and Hajime have successfully escaped the ballroom onto the balcony, he is doubled over laughing and you are actually freaking out.

“Jesus fuck,” you groan, pressing your hands to your face. The cool night air does nothing to soothe the absolute catastrophe unfolding inside your brain. “I kissed you. I kissed you in front of everyone.”

Hajime straightens, still grinning like an asshole. “Yeah,” he says, entirely too pleased. “You did.”

You drop your hands, glaring. “Fuck you, dude. You’re not helping.”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t aware I needed to.”

You let out an incoherent noise of distress.

Hajime, because he is insufferable, just leans against the balcony railing, watching you unravel like it’s the best entertainment he’s had all night. His tie is slightly loosened now, his jacket unbuttoned, and somehow, he looks even better like this—a little rumpled, a little amused, looking at you like he already knows how this is going to end. 

That is actually unacceptable.

“This is your fault,” you snap, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You goaded me into it.”

Hajime raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so I made you kiss me?”

“Yes,” you declare, with full conviction, even though you definitely grabbed him first. “You set me up.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “You really can’t handle taking the L, huh?”

“I can handle it,” you insist. “I just don’t want to.”

His lips twitch like he’s trying very hard not to laugh again. “So you kissed me against your will?”

“Yes.”

Hajime tilts his head, amused. “Interesting. Because you seemed pretty into it.”

Your jaw drops. “I—you—shut up.”

He chuckles, and God, his voice is all warm and low and pleased with himself, and you really need to get it together before you do something stupid again.

You exhale sharply, crossing your arms and shifting your focus to the city skyline instead. Sendai stretches out before you in a sea of golden lights, a stark contrast to the absolute nightmare happening in your head. 

This is fine. You can recover from this. You just have to never, ever acknowledge it again.

You square your shoulders, turning back to him. “Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen. We are going to go back inside, pretend this never happened, and move on with our lives.”

Hajime hums, considering. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

You squint. “What do you mean that’s not gonna work?”

He pushes off the railing, taking a step closer—too close, enough that you feel it again, that ridiculous, stupid warmth that shouldn’t still be there after all this time. “I mean,” he says, slow, deliberate, “you’re acting like that kiss was a mistake.”

You blink. “Because it was.”

He lifts a single eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Yes,” you say immediately, but it comes out way too defensive, and Hajime knows it.

He grins. You decide that you hate him.

“I’m sure,” you insist, crossing your arms tighter, like that will somehow make this whole situation less insufferable. “It was a heat-of-the-moment thing. A lapse in judgment. That’s it.”

Hajime tilts his head, thoughtful. “Okay. So if I kissed you again right now, you wouldn’t like it.”

Your entire brain short-circuits. The audacity. The unbelievable nerve.

You gape at him. “You wouldn’t.”

His grin widens. “Wouldn’t I?”

You hate how smug he looks. You hate that your stomach flips at the idea of it. You hate that you don’t immediately shut it down.

He watches your expression carefully, like he’s waiting for you to stop him, like he won’t actually do it unless you give him some kind of sign. Which is so much worse, because it means he’s giving you the chance to say no, to walk away, to end this before it can spiral any further.

But you don’t.

And that—more than the kiss itself, more than Emi’s squealing, more than the public spectacle you just made—is what finally sends you into full-blown panic mode.

You do want him to kiss you again.

You stare at him, pulse thrumming, brain caught in a violent tug-of-war between denial and desire. And Hajime? Hajime is watching you with the patience of someone who knows he’s already won.

“Say it,” he murmurs, voice low, steady.

You scowl. “Say what?”

“That you want me to kiss you again.”

Your jaw clenches. He’s baiting you, letting you choose, waiting for you to meet him halfway. You exhale sharply, tilting your chin up. “You’re so full of yourself.”

His mouth twitches. “Not an answer.”

“Fine,” you snap. “I want you to kiss me again.”

Hajime grins. “That’s all I needed.”

And then, he does.

This time, it’s slower, deeper, not rushed by the heat of the moment. He takes his time, like he’s savoring it, like he’s memorizing the way you melt into him. And you? You let him. Because, goddamn it, you were never winning this battle.

When you finally pull away, breathless, he smirks down at you. “See? Not a mistake.”

You groan. “I hate you.”

He laughs, pressing another quick kiss to your forehead that feels far more intimate than a casual pair of friends-with-benefits should. You, scandalized, shove him away, but Hajime just grins, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, pressing your fingers to your forehead, like that will somehow stop the ridiculous heat crawling up your neck.

Hajime hums, smug. “And yet, you’re still standing here.”

You are still standing here. You could have left, could have walked back into that ballroom and pretended this entire thing never happened. But instead, you’re here. On this balcony. With him.

You shift, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “So… what now?”

Hajime leans back against the railing. “Dunno. Guess that depends on you.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why do I feel like you already have an answer?”

“Because I do,” he says plainly, in a way so nonchalant and effortless it could only be said like that by him. 

You exhale sharply, tilting your head up to the sky, like the stars might have some kind of solution for this. “You know this is gonna be a thing now, right?”

Hajime raises an eyebrow. “A thing?”

“Yeah,” you say, making a vague gesture between the two of you. “A thing. Emi’s gonna lose her mind. She’s probably already telling the senior partners that her matchmaking career is a success.”

Hajime laughs, the sound easy, effortless. “Yeah. She probably is.”

You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. “I am never going to live this down.”

“Probably not.”

You squint at him. “You could at least pretend to be sympathetic.”

Hajime shrugs, then reaches for your hand, tugging you forward so suddenly that you nearly stumble into him. His hands slide down to your waist, thumbs brushing over the fabric of your dress. “I could,” he murmurs, close, too close, “but we both know I wouldn’t mean it.”

You scowl. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet,” he says, smug, “you still kissed me. Twice, actually.”

You glare. “Stop counting.”

“No promises.”

You groan, pressing your forehead to his chest in sheer exasperation. “This is my villain origin story.”

Hajime just laughs, wrapping his arms fully around you, and you hate—hate—that it feels nice, that it feels right.

“Hajime,” you say, voice muffled against his suit jacket.

“Yeah?”

You lift your head just enough to meet his gaze. “If we’re doing this, you are legally required to make it up to me with at least two fancy dates. Minimum.”

Hajime smirks, like he was already planning on it. “Deal.”

“And no getting too smug about this, either,” you squint.

He tilts his head. “Define ‘too smug.’”

You groan, shoving at his chest. “God, I hate you.”

Hajime just catches your wrist and grins, pressing a slow, soft kiss to your knuckles. “Sure you do.”

You really don’t. And both of you know that very well, because he has his mother’s spell-blinding smile and you have always been a sucker for them both.

⨭ closing; churned this out over one 3 hour writing sesh bc i got this idea in my head and had to see it through. not proofread and very very hastily written, but i like her anyway. #comment #reblog #lemme know ur thoughts mwah xoxo

[drewsephrry]

Love Island: Introductions: Y/N Edition

series masterlist

She steps into the room, the colored led lights flickering around her, a white stool waiting in the center.

“Is this where I...?” She gestures toward it and the producers nod. She sits down carefully, smoothing out her dress.

“Whenever you're ready!” One of them calls out. She takes a deep breath, gathering herself.

“Hi! I’m Y/N. I’m 23 years old. I live in New York City and I’m a baker.” A small smile tugs at her lips. “Which means I wake up at ungodly hours, smell like vanilla 90% of the time and have a very unhealthy relationship with pastries.” She giggles, twisting her rings nervously as she takes in the flashing lights and numerous cameras pointed at her. A producer clears his throat.

“Y/N, how would you or your friends describe you?” He asks, as she tilts her head, thinking.

“Umm…as ridiculous as it sounds, I think ‘sweet’ would be the word. I’m actually pretty shy. I get nervous around new people, so maybe this experience will help with that?” She pauses, then laughs lightly. “Though I don’t know why I thought being on national television would be the best way to fix it. But it’s too late to back out now…right?” She glances around with an awkward smile. “Nope. I’m doing this.”

“Do you have any moves?” A different producer asks.

“D-Dance moves? Yeah, plenty.” She says, confused.

“No, no. Like flirting moves. A pickup line or something?” The producer clears up and Y/N widens her eyes.

“Oh.” She blinks. “No. Definitely not.”

“What’s dating like in New York?” The first producer asks and she exhales dramatically, shaking her head.

“Dating in New York is…an experience.” She chuckles.

“You expect it to be like a rom-com, you know, locking eyes on the subway, meeting someone cute in a coffee shop. But in reality? It’s just a lot of situationships, ghosting and people who ‘aren’t looking for anything serious right now.’” She rolls her eyes playfully.

"But I’m still a hopeless romantic. I love love. So maybe Love Island is exactly what I need. No dating apps, no distractions, just vibes. And, if I’m really lucky, someone who actually texts back." She smirks as the female producers laugh.

taglist: @cherrygirlfriend @judesgfirl @slickdickwitchbitchh @leather-n-velvet @alinavalentine @littlelamy @nami11 @madiisynnxx @ts1mp0ne @starkeyslibrary @venusluves @rafecameronsfavourite @lolharrystylesissexy @nofacenocase00 @k4yr14 @drewslefttoe @tinie03 @angielvsnick @dellevans @malibuhearts @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @harryweeniee @imawhoreforu @fastlovela @jjmaybankmylovee @miserablebl00d @angeliki-spiteri9711 @drewsnr1slut @laniirackssss @emotionsmgcbabe @oconnrs @missabsey @amterasuu @cornliastreett @pvyden @italk2god @swagmoneydrew @lerclec @emmaaas-posts @dorcas4meadowes @isabellaxlilah @xoxosblogsblog @angielvsnick @bxbychxrry @julesbog @annaaaamichelle @st8rkey @lewispool @silkylovey @my-name-is-baby (if you have added yourself on my taglist and your tag doesn't show up here or if you want to add yourself, comment or reblog!!)

A/N: aaaa, just a bit more...

[wosoloml]

crawling back to you II leah williamson x reader

warnings: toxic, hidden relationship, jealousy, angst

summary: After hiding their relationship for years because Leah was still in the closet, they eventually broke up. Yet, they always found their way back into each others lives.

wc: 1,3k I based on this request

"it´s been two years, Leah. Why are you still referring to me as your best friend and roommate to your teammates? You didn´t even tell Keira about me?! She's your best friend!" I yelled at Leah, more out of frustration than anger. I'm so tired of hiding this relationship, of hiding myself behind the 'best friend´ label.

leah being in the cloest was never a problem for me - for us. But since rumours about her dating her male best friend were a thing it as hard to keep everything private. Growing up in milton keynes it was hard to be openly gay.

"Y/n you know its hard for me to tell everyone we are dating. We both know how they reacted after Keira came out to them. She still suffers from it and i dont wanna experience it please undertstand that." leah tries to explain her situation to me and i wish i could understand her the way i want to. But im too hurt.

"I should understand you? Have you ever tried to understand me? I can't do this anymore, Leah. You deserve someone who can handle this - but I can't. I'm sorry, Lee. It's for the best if we break up."

I say the words with tears in my eyes, my voice barely holding steady. It's a hard decision, but itt's one I have to make.

Being with Leah from the time I was 14 to now, at 17, has meant everything to me. I'm so grateful for the past three years, but I just can't do this anymore.

---------

"Y/N, I BOUGHT US TICKETS FOR THE NEXT GAME AT JOIE STADIUM!"

My girlfriend's excited voice echoes through our shared apartment. It's been seven months since I moved to Manchester and three months since we started living together.

"I'm already excited!" I shout back while checking who City's opponent is. Of course - it's Arsenal.

It feels strange to be thinking about football again, especially after breaking up with Leah almost a year ago. But maybe she's not even playing anymore.

Little did I know, she's been captaining the squad for the past year.

Our seats are incredible, giving us a perfect view of the pitch. As the teams walk out, my eyes immediately land on the captain's armband wrapped around Leah's arm. A strange sense of pride swells in my chest. Playing for the Gunners - leading them - had been her dream since she joined the club so many years ago. Seeing her live that dream now brings an unshakable smile to my face.

My thoughts are interrupted when my girlfriend starts chanting loudly, her passion for the game contagious. For a moment, I forget my ex is even on the pitch.

I never told Sarah about my past with a certain blonde Arsenal player.

I could feel Leah's eyes on me the entire game.

A part of me wanted to tease her, so every time she came over to take a corner, I laughed extra loud at whatever Sarah said or kissed her deeply-just to make a point.

I wanted her to see what it felt like to be in a relationship that didn't have to be hidden. To know how beautiful it is to be loved loudly and openly.

Later that evening, my phone buzzed.

leahwilliamson wants to send you a message. My heart started racing. My eyes widened as I read her message.

'Cute little show you put on earlier today.'

I had no idea how to respond to that, so I just sent back a few question marks. It didn't take long for her to reply.

'The way you laughed extra loud at whatever that girl said. The way you kissed her while checking to see if I was watching. I don't care, Y/N' . My blood starts to boil.

----

"Y/N!!"

I snap out of my thoughts as my coworker calls my name. I hurry over to the counter, my eyes widening.

'Can you serve them? I need to make a quick call.'

I manage a nod, but then I notice here - Leah. Sitting in my cafe. With another girl.

I take a deep breath, forcing a polite smile. "Hey, what can I get for you?" I ask, keeping my tone professional.

Leah smirks. "ll have a matcha latte. And what about you, babe-?" She turns to the girl beside her. "A flat white, please. Thank you" the girl says with a warm smile.

I already don't like her.

"Give me one second"

I know exactly why Leah is here - to get under my skin. And it's working. But beneath the teasing, beneath the smug attitude, it just hurts.

Seeing her be so open, so affectionate with someone else. calling her pet names, touching her without hesitation - it stings in a way I can't ignore.

Whenever we were out together, she barely even said my name, let alone held my hand. Now, she's making sure I see how different things are.

Every time I glance at their table, Leah is already looking at me, eyes filled with something I can't quite place. But I do notice how touchy she is, how overly flirty she's being.

And it makes my blood boil. I text her 'now we are even'. Her eyes darkened as she read the message.

-------

The club was alive with loud music, the clink of glasses, and the smell of sweaty bodies. It was my best friend's 25th birthday, and we decided to celebrate it in our hometown, London. I was also hoping it would serve as a distraction from my recent breakup. After two years of dating Sarah, she ended things last weekend because I couldn't bring myself to tell her I loved her. It's not that I didn't care about her or that I wasn't in love, but things felt different. The only woman I will ever truly love is Leah. Forever.

Suddenly, someone bumped into me, spilling their drink all over my shirt. "Oh god, I'm sorry!" They said as I looked up, meeting their eyes. It was Leah. Who else could it be?

"I didn't know you were here" she said, sounding surprised.

"Yeah, it's Anna's birthday today, and I thought Id come back to London for the occasion" I replied. "What about you?"

Leah seemed taken aback by how easily I kept the conversation going. "Actually, we won the league today. It was the last game of the season against Aston Villa, and we won."

The conversation flowed naturally, and then, unexpectedly, she asked THE question.

"So, is your girlfriend here?" she asked.

"No,†I said "we are not together anymore." "Oh, really? Im sorry to hear that. Funny enough, my girlfriend broke up with me two weeks ago" she replied, a look of surprise crossing her face. I was stunned, my eyes widening in disbelief. The tension between us shifted, and an unfamiliar but unmistakable feeling of missing her washed over me.

After that, we kept texting and even FaceTimed a few times. The vibe was strange but oddly familiar, as though we had never stopped talking, despite having broken up over 3.5 years ago. Nothing had really changed.

---------

"Happy one year, baby!" Leah greeted me with breakfast in bed and the most beautiful bouquet of red roses. I couldn't have been happier with her by my side.

Even though she had a game on our anniversary , it didn't make the day any less special. I cheered her on from the 'Friends and Family' section, proudly wearing her name on the back of my Arsenal jersey. When she scored the winning goal, she celebrated by making a special gesture just for me.

Right person, right time.

[lynnieverse]

hi, absolutely devouring late night talking!! just wondering if you've ever seen meetcutesnyc on tikotk? cannot stop imagining rafe being stopped & asked for his love story especially with how many hs & college sweethearts end up there..... it just fits too good!!! bc u know damn well he's looking for any excuse to talk his girl up and show that rock on her finger... and of course she just gets to smile n wave at the camera, living her best life

so high school // rafe cameron

oneshot

meetcutesnyc au

rafe cameron x reader

a/n: I LOVE THIS IDEA OMG. thank you so much for this and i hope i did it justice!! enjoy :)))

“Excuse me, are you two together?” the cheery voice sounded to your left. Rafe turned first, tugging on your interlocked hands with a smile on his face. You take in the small woman with a microphone––a man with a camera on his shoulder standing next to her––stomach immediately twisting to knots. Pedestrians grumble as they pass, obviously annoyed at the sudden stop in foot traffic. You shuffle towards the curb, the camera following as you do so. 

“Yeah we are,” Rafe said brightly, glancing back at you with only love in his eyes. You can’t help but grin back, the anxiety that came with the camera fading the longer you looked at him. 

“Can I ask how you met?” the woman asked, directing the cameraman so he got the two of you in frame. You snickered, squeezing Rafe’s hand instinctively as he gave you a warning look. 

“Go ahead babe, tell her.” Rafe rolled his eyes playfully and turned his attention back to the camera. 

“Well…we hated each other.”

“Loathed,” you chime in. 

“Okay I wouldn’t go that far,” he argued, bumping your shoulder with his. 

“I would! He’s my best friend’s older brother, so I had to be around him all the time, and he was an annoying boy for the majority of our childhood.” The interviewer laughed, glancing between you both with a twinkle in her eye. 

“Yeah, yeah. And she was a little brat who loved to get on my nerves.” Rafe stuck his tongue out at you. You hold up your hand and purse your lips, ignoring him completely. 

“So what made you change your mind?” 

“Well I didn’t, not for a while anyway. It wasn’t until college that he finally grew up and I could take him seriously.” 

“Listen I only acted that way because I liked you in high school!” he defended for the dozenth time, something that always baffled you. When he first told you that little tidbit of information, you’d spewed your water all over him at a very nice restaurant. 

“Anyway…” you drawled out. “He had to win me over, so he decided to follow me around wherever I went.” 

Rafe groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “You make me sound like a stalker, Y/N!”

The interviewer laughed. “So you pursued her?”

“Aggressively,” you confirm, shaking your head with a fond smile. "Every study session, every coffee run, every party—I’d turn around and there he was. He was such a cockblock to my dating game too; I swear he crashed every date I ever had.” The interviewer stifled a laugh with her hand.

“Yeah that’s true,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I was persistent and charming, okay?” You whipped your head to the side, gaping at him.

“You tripped and spilled your coffee in front of me three times,” you remind him. 

Rafe gasped, pretending to clutch his pearls. “You helped me up! That was the moment I knew, you know?” he commented to the camera. “When you stared down at me, covered in caramel macchiato, and I thought, ‘Damn, she’s the one’.”

“I was laughing at you,” you giggle, shoving his shoulder. Rafe took it in stride, pulling you into his side and kissing the top of your head.

“So when did you officially get together?” she asked, leaning forward slightly, clearly eating this up. 

“Junior year,” you answer, still locked in Rafe’s embrace, surrounded by his intoxicating scent. It never gets old, being around him. 

“When she finally admitted to being obsessed with me,” Rafe added, winking to the camera.

You scoffed. “Yeah, sure.” 

“Tell them about the proposal,” he whispered, nudging you towards the mic. You groan, the blood instantly rushing to your cheeks. 

“Oh God,” you cover your face with your hands. 

“Oh come on, Princess, you love telling people how I got down on both knees.” 

A gasp came from in front of you. “Wait––you what?”

“I panicked okay! I got down on one knee, then I just––wanted to make sure––so I got down on both,” he raised his hands defensively. 

“He looked like he was begging for his life!” you snorted, shaking your head. “But it was sweet. And perfect. And obviously I said yes.” Rafe grabbed your hand and showed your ring to the camera, the light making the moss agate gem shine brightly. You were never really a diamond girl, and he delivered perfectly. 

“Best thing to ever happen to me!” Rafe was smiling ear to ear, cheeks an adorable shade of pink. 

“You guys are adorable!” The cameraman nodded too, shaking the camera a bit. 

“I know,” Rafe said, clearly enjoying this. 

You press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I love you, you weirdo.” 

“I love you more, Princess,” he murmured, squeezing your hand. 

“Thank you guys so much for your time! Good luck with the wedding!” The interview wrapped up, the crew saying goodbye and leaving the two of you on your own once more. Rafe tugged you forward, finally getting back on track to your favorite bagel shop. 

“I was persistent.” he said in mock seriousness, a pout overtaking his face. You burst out laughing, jumping up to peck his lips. 

“Yes you were, baby. You knew what you wanted and boy you got her,” you smirked. Rafe clutched his heart. 

“I love when you quote Taylor Swift at me.” 

“All you are is mean, and a liar, and pathetic––” 

“Okay not that one!” You both laugh, fading into comfortable silence. 

As you approach the front of the shop he pulls you closer, whispering softly in your ear. “I really did always know it was you.”

[vifilms]

❝ FWB!ABBY HEADCANONS ❞

word count: 2k+

content warning. eighteen+, minors dni, strap!sex, scissorcity, just a lot of p*rn written out, but omgee i'm writing foir abby again? am i returning home? me saying that when all my long fics are about a certain pink-haired butch.

masterlist.

fwb!abby who is a star-athlete, potentially a hockey player because c’mon, look at her. it starts right before the end of last season. there used to be a trio, three girls who grew up together, forever inseparable. but with a nasty fall out of abby’s break up with your best friend — you picked a side. not that anyone would believe you, but it was innocent. purely innocent.

fwb!abby who keeps you close throughout the breakup, she leans on you when she emotionally breaks, when she doesn’t want to be alone; you’re right there for her. ready to help her in whatever way you can. maybe it was naive of you to expect it to be nothing more and it’s exactly how you end up here — abby’s hand shoves down your skirt as she presses you against the locker room right after the most important game of the season. it could be how good your ass looked in the soft fabric, she couldn’t help herself. 

“mhm, how long have you been thinking about this?” gently, abby asks. “pretty girl, wanna have your fill so bad, huh?” 

all she does is tease. it’s all abby wants to do, pull those god-given moans from your lips and your whines are nothing but a symphony to her ears. but all of this is very wrong. in your bones, with every pint of blood pumping to your veins, it feels like something forbidden. even if you aren’t friends anymore, even if she hates you for siding with abby, you can’t help but love the way she strokes your puffy lips with a flick of her wrist. 

you groan as she slips a single finger inside you, whining at the welcomed intrusion. abby knows this is a slippery slope as much as you, maybe even more. it’s not lost on her what would happen if anyone were to find out, but especially your ex-best friend were to find out you loved getting fucked by her ex. 

“shut up and fuck me, yeah? you don't need to know any of that—” you shriek as she slips another inside you, effectively stretching you out as she pumps your slick, back into you as it drips over her fingers like fresh honey. 

“what was that, princess?” abby tilts her head to the side as she presses on your clit with the pad of her thumb. 

“nothing, i—” 

“hm, right. i guess the rumors are true.” 

“what rumors?” 

abby doesn’t provide any response as she fucks you into the stars, each thrust of her fingers effectively shutting you up from saying anything else. as you cry out for a release, she places deliberate kisses along your neck, her hot breath swarms goosebumps along your skin as your hips buck into her body. 

“heard a few…one from your roommate in particular.” 

oh fuck. 

the little shit knows. 

“what did you, f-fuck, hear?” abby chuckles when you can’t keep your thoughts straight. you’re close and she knows it as well when she presses her lip to your ear, it’s intentional, the cocky little shit knows just what you like. 

the first time she’s touched you and you’re already melting in her warm and needy hands. 

the sultry tone in her voice will haunt you whenever you sleep, you’ll see her in your dreams, those taunting pair of blues, the scarred cheek you love but she hates. when she says the words you fear, for some reason it sends you over the edge. 

“i heard you like moaning my name when you get yourself off, so why don’t you put on a show for me, princess?” 

fwb!abby who thinks about you, slumped against the lockers trying to catch your breath. the mantras of her name don’t leave her mind, how pathetic did it make her she couldn’t stop thinking of you. how you couldn’t escape her mind, even during practice, those stupid whimpers wouldn’t leave her. her mind can’t escape that night, the endorphins pounding her skull as she fucked you into oblivion. the secret you held close to your heart raw and exposed as you released over her pumping fingers — it all felt a little too real. a little too perfect. 

fwb!abby who tries to play it cool whenever you’re around. abby knows it’s her best shot of forgetting what happened, slipping back into normalcy. but what she doesn’t expect? how jealous she feels when she sees you chatting up one of her teammates. she suspects you might be doing the same, trying to find a distraction, anything and anyone to stop your mind from thinking of it. it’s the secret she holds close to her as she deciphers on why her blood couldn’t seem to stop boiling. she hadn’t been this possessed, the need for her sweet salvations to be found on each roll of her tongue. it’s agony as she watches you leave with them, but she just sips on her beer, calling it night at the same time as you. but her sheets will be ice while yours will be kept especially warm. 

the first thought entering your mind, this isn’t as good. she doesn’t touch you the way abby did, fuck, this girl’s mouth is eager to devour you, every drop not being wasted but you just pretend it’s abby. even if you feel slimy, a bit dirty, but it gets you where you need to be. 

when you ride the plastic cock, invisioning abby holding your hips, guiding them as you slide down and fuck yourself, chasing the high she gave you just a few weeks ago but you see golden-waves flowing on your navy-blue cotton sheets. your mind drifts to how the blue in the sheets would bring out abby’s eyes, how she might look up at you while you fuck her like it’s your right to. 

as if she belongs to you. 

the more you think of her, the easier it becomes to find your release, it comes to you quickly as you moan; you chase the high. but it still doesn’t feel as good as last time — not when you don’t have her whispering in your ear. telling you just how much you need it, whispering your dirty secrets like an oath. a string for her to pull, only one tug needed until you come apart for her like it’s the only purpose you have in life; you’re just here to please abby anderson. 

fwb!abby who doesn’t see you for a week straight. you’re avoiding her with all of you might. even going as far as missing one of her games which you never do. it pisses her off to no end and the final straw is her teammate talking about how much the two of you can’t stop fucking. yeah, god, she’s so perfect. sweetest i've ever tasted. it’s said in passing, quietly to one of her friends, not meant for abby. slamming the locker form, she sets her sights on you. she’s ending whatever the fuck this is. 

the knock on your door is harsh, spinning you out of your thoughts as you open the door to find her completely outraged. abby might as well be a bull with her nostrils flared, puffing out smoke as she only sees through a tunnel vision of red. you know why she’s upset, and you’re sure she’s heard about just who you have been spending your time with, making this all the more messy. 

“ashton? fucking ashton?” abby burls straight past the entrance, shoulder checking you in the process. 

“why does it matter if it’s her? or anyone? why do you care all of a sudden?” you go back to cleaning, as if you don’t have a very enraged woman standing in front of you. you try not to think of her sweet vanilla scent mixed with mahogany. the way she filled you up perfectly. 

“i don’t care.” abby nods as she showcases a bitter smirk. 

fwb!abby who has you pinned against the wall with her strong frame, pelvis pressed against hers, still sweaty from practice as she has you pinned against the wall. you’re not sure who kissed first, who grabbed the other closer, but she has you turned around, fingers plunging knuckle deep as she reminds you of that night. writhing against her as she whispers in her ear, “next time you crawl in her bed, remember this, when she’s failing to make you come apart. remember how easy it is for me.” 

fwb!abby who brings you back to her apartment. her lips pull the air from your lungs, suffocating you but lighting you ablaze. like a lioness when she paws at you, nearly ripping your closes to shreds with the claws she has buried in you so deep. abby is cocky about it as you pull off her clothes just the same, desperate, needy — with a angelic glint in your eyes she’ll have nightmares about. 

“princess, it will stay between us. alright?” abby groans as her baby blue dildo slips inside you. watching her defined abdomen clenched as she pushes, fully tilted inside you. “promise.”  

another secret to holster, keeping close enough to keep but not close enough where it would seep into your skin, surely to infect whatever she so craved to do. you expect everything to be a little rough, a means to an end — just a way for the both of you to fuck this out of your system — but abby’s delicate. doing her best not to completely lose it. 

you feel full as she hesitates to move, watching your face contort in divine pleasure, the way you try to move your hips, but her hands keep you in place for a moment longer. 

“baby, please, shit i need your—” a groan leaves your mouth as abby moves, thrusting her cock inside you. 

“yeah, you need it, princess?” 

it feels condescending, the stupid pet name is being thrown at you as a way to incite raw need, to instill such a primal emotion, and you feel it stirring the pits of your stomach. with each heartbeat, your chest flutters. 

your mind shuts off, all the worries that infect your mind like a disease, every reason that tells you this is a god-awful, terrifyingly horrible idea. there’s too many webs, you’re bound to be trapped up in her, with no way to come out of it. it’s the only truth settled within your soul but then she’s fucking you. it’s hard but slow. 

she’s taking her time, building you up so she has you right towards the edge. all you do is wrap your legs around her, bringing her close to you, her temple kissing yours as she loses herself inside you. it’s all more than you expected, quiet whimpers echo in her bedroom, her sanctuary she’s coaxed you into. 

“you look so hot taking my cock, pretty girl. fuck, it’s like it was made just for you but i have an appetite for something else.” 

you whimper as abby removes herself and the harness secured on her hips, until you feel her blonde bush and aching lips slide over yours. the woman above you can’t help but chuckle as your eyes roll back into your skull, a leg thrown over her toned shoulder as she slides perfectly against you. 

“you—” you gasp as she pushes her hips faster, you have no choice but to buck against her. “a-abs, oh shit, oh my fucking god.” 

quickly, you’re losing it as abby is being loud. “right in front of me all this time, fuck!” 

almost comes across as animalistic as she grunts, fucking your faster than anyone ever has, you’re so close when she grips your chin, demanding you to open. sliding her fingers inside of your mouth as you suck off your cum. effectively shutting you up in the process. 

“yeah, it’s too much, huh? are you sure you can take it, princess?” you nod your head as one thrust sends you over the end, your body twitching as you come. she soothes you through it, whispering your name over and over in your ear and it goes straight to your cunt. it’s too much but she eventually stops but you still feel her against you. everything becomes sticky and warm. 

the blunt of her nails begin to scrape lightly over the skin of your abdomen, enjoying how much your body twitches. you’re sensitive and abby chuckles.

“whenever you wanna fuck princess, just give me a call.” and after, she whispers so quietly you almost miss it, “i’ll gladly make this pussy mine any day of the week.”

[kellycataclysm]

When I'm with you...

I don't want to be anywhere else...

I was so completely thrilled to be able to work with my really amazing friend @itsmeglycine once again on this absolutely delicious commission.

I am in the process of drafting the final chapter of my long fic for Lyra and Harvey, and while I do have other things I'd like to work on, the thought of never writing them again was too much. So I have also planned a sequel for them. This little moment is taken from the summer section of that story.

We had been chatting about those really smart clothes our man Harvey loves and I got a bit carried away, then imagining Lyra and Harvey dressed up for a date... a glass of wine by the rockpools, watching the sun set, and I couldn't stop thinking of those wonderful romance movies of the 1950s. So, while she's definitely wearing his Ginger Island hat here, Lyra just really reminds me of Audrey Hepburn or Debbie Reynolds.

Everything here is so perfect. Their lil pinky fingers linked together, Harvey looking like Don Draper in his Ray Bans, the pink roses, the absolutely phenomenal lighting! The whole thing is just the most perfect shot of summer and I couldn't love it more.

Thank you so much for working with me on such an incredible piece! I adore it! You're the best!

[samnoahalov]

One of my Mcs is going to become partialy deaf as the years of apocalipse pass(since he uses a gun), and the other mc(and his best friend) know's ASL because of his uncle that was mute and used it, and he's gonna make him learn(initially just for fun but also to be able to comunicate without talking for their own safety), and when he realises he's becoming deaf he first get angry and desperate, but with the help of others he embraces this part of himself, ans start to see it as the consequences of saving lifes. And I think I like the way it's going, it's not easy for him, but he'll get over it.

I'm not physically disabled(at least not that I know), but I LOVE to see representation of them, like. Your life is different than mine? OH PLEASE TELL ME MORE. And I felt the NEED of having disabled characters, I'm trying to make a good job, I'm looking everywhere and from a lot of perspectives of each one I put on them, everything thought out and crafted to fit them, the narrative and the story I want to tell.

I love them, even if they don't love themselfs, even whe ln they get hurt and hurt others for that. I'll never give up on trying to show the colors of our world, I might get it wrong at first, but it's okay, I'll keep learning and will evolver over time. I just never will give up.

Writing Deaf Characters | People are People

I am a HoH person who has issues with the represention of deafness in media, and the lack of representation in general. I would love to see more deaf characters, but without the encumberments, so here is a guide on how. This is part two of two. Speech is Speech is a  guide to writing signed language and the technicalities around it. People are People is an outline of the characterization of deaf characters and the tropes that absolutely need to be avoided.

The age trap

Characters are stereotyped into a set of traits that stem from their deafness, and are highly dependent on their age. For example, the old grandma who’s deafness is incorporated into her sweet, amicable character. “Sorry dear, didn’t quite catch that.” She says on the end of almost every sentence, and it’s supposed to be funny. Maybe it is a bit funny in a comedy skit put together by a deaf comedian, but when done by hearing people it is mocking, verging on cruel. The same is also seen in sweet, naive deaf children who are shy “because they can’t hear.”

I do understand that this character trope is really easy to fall into. I used to do it too, unthinkingly; in fact, I myself probably fit the “shy, deaf child mould” on the surface. You’re not a bad person for making this mistake, because a lot of people do. Nobody has ever thought to ask if it is wrong.

How to get around this? There are other ways to make your elderly grandparents lovely, quaint people than cramming them into the “sweet, going deaf and dentures” archetype, which frankly, is getting a little boring. You could even make them deaf/HoH from birth, have them use signed language- (even if not deaf from birth)- and throw in a fun bit of conversation where they learn the new slang from their grand-child/the MC. The representation would be such a treat for our community, and make the characters that much more interesting for your readers!

As for the children, give them character. It’s as simple as that. Deaf children may be quiet because they are told off for shouting, or mocked for never saying anything in spoken English at all; I know that’s what happened to me. Make your children quirky, and you can show that through their hearing aids/implants- in fact, please do! I knew a boy in the year below in first school. He was profoundly deaf, as was I, and he such a personality to him. And he used his hearing aids to shout that out proudly: mismatched coloured moulds for his aids that were semi-transparent and filled with glitter. Someone else I knew of- (an art teacher friend of an art teacher)- steampunk modified their hearing aids and honestly? Iconic. That being said, remember not to focus only on them; this is just a point that you can build from. People are people!

The shock of spoken language

This plot trope/device is one that just makes me incredibly sad. The deaf character uses signed language, and that makes them happy. They speak in their own language, but the hearing people act like this is not enough. The deaf character then uses spoken language, and woah- it’s a miracle, they speak perfectly, they’ve achieved greatness, what a wonder! Acceptance!

I think this stems from the “deaf and dumb” character trope seen in a lot of the literature of the 20th and earlier centuries. This was a character that would garner reader sympathy through pity for their terrible situation. They were usually unintelligent, simple girls who were tragically pretty despite their horrid imperfection. What woe! And then they spoke at a moment of intense emotion, and it was this huge deal. Although this was something that upset me as a young child reading literature in an archaic language I only just understood, I realize that, as above, this is something that has been hugely normalized.

If you are going to have your non-speaking character speak, there are a set of conditions to keep in mind:

Imperfect speech. They won’t speak incredible, perfect English, unless they’ve had extensive speech therapy and used spoken English before.

Not for your validation. The non-speaking character must choose to speak of their own free will; not to make an adult or hearing/speaking person happy. If you go down this route, make sure that you, as the author, stress that this is morally and ethically the wrong thing for that person to do.

Not as a dramatic device. Don’t have your non-speaking character suddenly speak out at a moment where you want your readers to feel Emotion, such as a horrific event or a death.

Not an acheivement or a big deal. If they use spoken English, they use spoken English. It isn’t a massive deal or event to be focused on. Doing so would do that little thing of making signed language inferior, as I made a point of in post one.

In Summary

Flesh your characters out. Give them dimensions. Extend them from their deafness. Explore different angles. Treat it as a part of their identity without retracting from them as them.

It’s important to know that although the general community treats deafness as a blessing at the most, or at least as a part of their identity and as a culture of its own, not everyone shares this. Some people chose to have implants, and some choose not to. Some people with implants still used signed language, and others use spoken.

There are different types of deafness and hearing loss as well, from hidden hearing loss to nerve damage. Here is where you can read up on these: [X]

The deaf and HoH community is as varied as any other community in any other place. There are deaf clubs and dicoes, organizations, companies, and events. All sorts of things. My favourite is the one time the National Deaf Children’s Scoiety decided to take a bunch of deaf children out on sailing boats in high wind, me in the boat with someone who only used sign. Language, support and openess differs from country to country, and if your deaf character is in a fantasy world, play with that!

What kind of hearing aids are offered, if at all? What are the stereotypes, conceptions and mis-conceptions surrounding deafness? What is the sign language like? If you’re inventing a spoken language, invent a signed one too!

Research the community in the country where your book is set if in the real world, and find out what it is like. Decide what kind of deafness your character has, too.

Is it a genetic deafness? Does is come as a part of something else? Was it from birth, or is it gradual? Hearing family, or non-hearing family? What kind of hearing loss? Read up on  the types and decide.

And last of all, if you’re a hearing person and you do write a deaf character and follow these guidelines, you’re brilliant. If you’re a deaf/HoH person who has anything else to add, feel free. Input is always valued.

Thank you for taking the time to read this, and best of luck to everyone with their writing.

This is part of my weekly advice theme. Each week I look at what you’ve asked me to help with, and write a post or series of posts for it. Next week: settings and character development/rebuilding characters (including heroes, anti-heroes, villains, and every other kind of character).