#I want them to all be happy is that to much to ask :’^

[squipa]

baby, i want some of your love

aka how you healed him

———

jason todd wears glasses now.

jason never really took care of himself after dying. his body was so hopelessly out of rhythm, everything slightly wrong and out of place. his bones creak underneath his skin, his muscles, which had nearly rotted and decayed, could never quite figure out how to relax. sometimes he’d forget to breathe, or blink, the actions no longer involuntary, and before you? he didn’t have it in himself to care. his health had fallen to the least of his worries.

but you were always so worried about him. you noticed things about himself he hadn’t even realized, how he winced when he chewed with the left side of his mouth, how he squinted at street signs whenever you went on walks, how his muscles were always tense until you massaged them into relaxation. you pointed them out, pouting whenever he’d shrug it off. to him, it was nothing, he was used to the pain, the inconvenience; he didn’t consider his own wellbeing important enough to pay any mind to.

to you, it was torture. watching the man you loved so dearly treat himself with so little care had you ruined. all you wanted for him was happiness and safety, for him to have what he had given you so freely, what he guarded himself from so intensely. he didn’t realize how much you cared until he noticed how much you finally pushed him to treat himself better.

“i scheduled you a dentist appointment.” you said, matter-of-factly setting down a few documents in front of him begging his patient history. he looked up to you, eyebrow raised, entirely confused. you answered his question before he could even think to ask it. “you wince when you chew.”

he wouldn’t say no to you. despite his disdain regarding the idea of a check up, he went. you came with him, fiercly speaking a language of medicine he didn’t understand. when he left the dentist, you gave him a lollipop. “i’m not five.” he ate it anyways, savoring the taste between strawberry-stained lips as you drove him home.

he stopped noticing when you made him appointments to get shots, or when you subtly slipped the card of a dermatologist behind the picture of you he kept in his wallet. he started actually caring about what he did to his body— gut health and all that. yes, he was jacked, his body had been built like a machine ever since it had patched itself back together in the lazarus pit, but he couldn’t remember the last time he ate a piece of fruit.

he didn’t realize how much better he felt until dick pointed it out for him. “you got glasses?” he asked, pointing to the thick black frames that sat on the bridge of his nose.

he nodded. he does wear glasses. he has silver caps on two of his teeth. he has a nice layer of body fat covering his muscles because he eats three well-balanced meals a day. he has a standing appointment with a chiropractor every other wednesday at two, and another with a therapist on mondays at one. he gets a checkup every six months and goes to the dentist every four, he’s been to the dermatologist three times in two years, he has all of his shots up to date, he takes vitamins in the morning and he sleeps at least five hours every night.

he cares about himself. he puts effort into making sure he stays healthy— and at first it was for you. only for you, to ease your constant worry about him. but now it’s second nature, your guiding hand has healed him, made him want to stay alive and healthy and whole, not for just you, but for himself.

the moment the realization washes over him of just how much you’ve given him, he rushes home and tells you in no less than a thousand ways just how grateful he is to have your love.

———

[navybrat817]

Diamonds and Steel - Intro

Pairing: Retired Hitman!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky treats you to a getaway, but peace won't last for long.

Word Count: Over 3.3k

Warnings: Smut, unprotected v. sex (wrap it before you tap it), possessive behavior, established relationship, dirty talk, talk of violence and nightmares, world building, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: So, I wrote this intro months ago. I feel like this Bucky would get along with our alpha. Thanks @targaryenvampireslayer for letting me (s)cream about this. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The sun shining in from the balcony door woke you slowly. You weren't sure what time it was as you squinted against the brightness with a small stretch, the spacious bedroom becoming brighter with each passing second. You had only been in the villa for a day, but it was your new favorite place. Thanks in large part to the person who brought you here. 

A smile touched your face when the hand on your hip gripped you tighter. Carefully turning to face the man beside you who still had his eyes closed, you took the opportunity to run your fingers through his long dark hair. Your smile widened when he leaned into your touch. Asleep or awake, he always sought it out. And this was a person who didn't let most people touch him. 

But I can because he’s my man. 

Bucky Barnes, a man who was intimidating even laying down. Tall with wide shoulders, built like a warrior with a few scars to prove it. You moved a finger through his nearly trimmed beard and almost wished he'd open his steely eyes so you could gaze into them. He unnerved many with his stare, but he always looked at you as if you were the reason he saw the light of day. Burying your face in his neck with a sigh, it gave you a sense of peace when he pulled you closer to him on instinct. 

“Morning, my treasure.” The affectionate pet name was one you'd never grow tired of. It did make you giggle the first time he called you that. He had lots of money, more than you could ever fathom, and could buy all the treasures he could ever desire, yet he thought you were treasure. His most precious thing. 

“Morning,” you whispered, shifting so your body could melt into his more. 

He moaned appreciatively as your hips moved closer. “How did you sleep?” He tipped your chin up so he could look at you, the sleep fading quickly from his eyes. It didn't matter that he just woke up, he looked as handsome as ever and knocked the wind right out of you. It was highly doubtful you looked beautiful having just woken up, but he’d say looked perfect if you asked. 

“I slept well,” you answered. You had good dreams, including one of the two of you sitting on soft white sand and watching the waves crash in the glittering ocean. You could go anywhere in the world you wanted now thanks to him. “Did you?”

Bucky warned you when you entered your relationship with him that he sometimes had trouble sleeping. Bouts of insomnia and occasional nightmares. You witnessed one first-hand near the beginning when he woke up in a cold sweat, his hand clenched like he was holding a weapon and empty eyes like he couldn't see what was right in front of him. He didn't like to talk about his past and could only tell you later on that all he saw were bullets and blood. 

His haunted gaze broke your heart. 

“Slept very well. I had very good dreams.” His nose brushed your forehead before his lips touched it. You were happy to hear that. “In fact, I can show you exactly what I dreamt about if you’d like.”

Need slammed into you at the implication, your palms itching to feel his hardened body as he held you closer. You wanted to trace the scars, the tattoos. Every inch of him. “Sure you don't want breakfast first?”

Bucky didn't ask for much. One of the only things he requested when you began your journey together was that you’d sit and have meals with him. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It was a time for the two of you to talk about anything and everything, though he preferred to focus on the present and the future instead of the past. You understood. You didn't like dwelling on the past either since your life was much happier now. 

He arched an eyebrow, looking cool as ever. “What if I want you for breakfast?” He brought his lips to yours, not giving you a chance to argue that you hadn't brushed your teeth. He didn't care about things like that. “You wouldn't let me starve, would you?”

The low heat from his voice seared through your core, wrapping around you like the satin sheet that covered you both. It was the only thing covering you in fact, your clothes strewn across the floor the night before. He had you keep the diamond pendant on, a gift he had given you when you arrived at the villa. It was beautiful.

The diamond to his steel.

“As if you’d ever starve. Your appetite for me is borderline gluttonous,” you teased. Guilt flickered in his eyes before you put a hand to his cheek, his expression shifting back to normal. “Hey, I didn't mean that in a bad way. I love that you want me.”

Oh, did Bucky want you. His face buried between your thighs, his cock spearing you open. If he didn't have you in bed, he had you against a wall or bent over the nearest surface. Not a day went by that he didn't give you at least one orgasm, like he was making up for lost time apart before you even knew each other. It didn't make sense to you some days that a man as gorgeous and worldly as him could have anyone he wanted, but chose you. 

“And I love you wanting me,” he said. You didn't just want him. You ached for him, inside and out. How could one man hold such power over you? To be fair, the balance of power was equal in some ways since you affected him the same way.

“How could I not want you? Even if I resisted, your skills of seduction are dangerous.”

You gasped when a massive thigh pushed between your legs. “Moya Sladkaya, you think I’m seductive?” he purred, making you shiver as the sound vibrated through your body.

“Yes and you know you are.” You bit your lip as his thigh shifted, gliding along your heat. It was tempting to ride it. “Your voice, your eyes, your mouth, your body. Partially why you became my sugar daddy.”

He growled as he suddenly rolled on top of you. “I'm your boyfriend,” he corrected you, holding your gaze. He looked hungry. “Who happened to wipe out your debt the way a sugar daddy would.”

“That’s still crazy to me,” you remarked. 

“That I wiped out your debt or that I’m your boyfriend?”

You twirled a bit of his hair around your finger. “Both,” you whispered. Living a debt free life was something you hadn't thought possible until he showed up. Now you had a life without the stress of bills and work, and also one where you felt loved and cared for. He gave you that and more. “But it’s crazy in the best possible way.”

“So it’s a good thing I'm crazy about you,” he smirked.

“Crazy about me?” You put a hand to his forehead. “Hmm. I think you should have your head examined.”

Bucky took your hand and brought it to his mouth, his expression blank. “No one needs to look inside my head,” he said, his eyes warm again as he kissed your palm. It seemed to push out whatever memory undoubtedly crept into his mind. “Because if someone could, they’d see all the dirty things I've done to you and no one else needs to see that.”

You giggled as he nudged your legs apart. “Yes, you’ve done a lot of dirty things to me,” you teased, your eyes slipping shut as he peppered kisses along your jaw and neck. Just two days ago he had you naked in his lap with your arms tied behind your back while he fed you dessert. And then he had you for dessert. “You’re insatiable.”

The gentle scrape of his teeth over your neck set your blood on fire. “If I’m insatiable, it’s your fault. One look at you and I was a goner,” he whispered, a hand moving possessively between your bodies. His thumb brushed your nipple into a taut peak, your back arching to seek out more of him. “You brought beauty and joy back to my world. You saved me, you know that?”

Unexpected tears burned behind your lids. He lived in a world of gray for so long. The least you could do after everything was bring him some light. “You saved me, too,” you breathed. He got to be your hero. You got to be his treasure. A fair trade in his eyes.

You gasped when he nipped at your racing pulse. “Don’t do that. Don't compliment me. This isn’t about me.” Both of you had a tendency to deflect praise at times, but it was something you were working on. And while he didn’t view himself as a hero, he did save you in his own way. 

“You’re a good man,” you said softly, fiercely. He didn't think he was because of some of the things he had done, because of the blood on his hands, but he wasn’t a bad person. “I mean it, Bucky.”

He sighed, scraping his beard against your skin affectionately. “I know you do.” He took his time sliding his hand down your torso, your breath leaving your lungs at the same slow speed. “But I want to compliment you, so take what I give you.”

You'd be sure to compliment him again later. “Not the only thing you’ll tell me to take, is it?” You giggled when he growled again. Getting under his skin was a lot of fun. “We both know I take you so well. Just like I take every drop you spill into me, no matter which hole you choose.”

He made a sound between a moan and a growl. You didn't think your dirty talk was the best by any means, but he loved it. “And you call me insatiable,” he said, his fingers exquisitely gentle as they found your wetness. “Always wet and ready for me, eager for me to fill all of your holes.”

“Don’t get cocky,” you groaned, feeling the evidence of his arousal press against you. Thick. Hard. You shuddered with the need for him to just take you. “Actually, you have every right to be cocky. You’ve ruined me.”

He brought his face up to yours, close enough that he breathed against your lips. “I haven't ruined you yet.” His promise had you trembling, wishing he’d tear you apart without a second thought. 

You leaned up and pressed your lips to his, heat curling in your stomach as he slipped a calloused finger inside you. Your hands moved to his arms, his muscles rippling as he pumped it deep. Your sensitive walls clenched as he added another, a delicious tease of what was to come. How did your need for him continue to grow with each day that passed?

Bucky broke the kiss, your breathing heavy as he continued to toy with you. “After breakfast, I want your cunt pulsing on my tongue,” he whispered as he broke the kiss, a thrill shooting from your head to your toes. You’d be content to spend the rest of your life sitting on his face if you could get away with it.

“Bucky, please,” you begged, pleasure mounting as his fingers curled. You tried to hold back the familiar cresting waves, wanting his cock inside you when you let it wash over you. “Make love to me. Fuck me. Just get your cock in me.”

Slowly removing his fingers, your hole clenching around nothing, he smirked as he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean. The stark hunger in his gaze at the taste of you nearly made you orgasm. “Well, since you’re so desperate for me,” he teased, gripping the base of his cock and lining the head against your hole. 

“I’m desperate?” Your voice cracked when he slid into you in one deep thrust. Your fingers dug into his biceps, adjusting to the size of him as he looked into your eyes. He was searching for any discomfort or pain. There was none there. Your body would always welcome him home. 

“Yes. Desperate.” You couldn't deny that when Bucky moved his hips. Deep, long strokes, the drag of his cock making you feel almost mindless. No one before him made you desperate. No one else ever would. “Wet. Tight. Beautiful. Perfect.”

You gasped, rolling your hips up to meet his. “I’m not-” He cut you off with a kiss, silencing your protest that you weren't perfect. You were anything but. Like everyone, you had flaws. Imperfections. It was like he didn't see them or they didn't exist in his eyes. 

“Yes, you fucking are,” he growled, making you cry out when he thrust hard. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he crushed your chests together, your heart matching the rhythm of his. You held onto him like you never wanted to let him go. “My perfect treasure.”

Heat engulfed you as he reached between you and slid his fingers along your clit. Your hips bucked, your arousal climbing and taking you higher. The handsome man above you canting his hips and groaning as you keened had your body begging for release. 

“Bucky, please. I need to come,” you whined. You didn't need his permission, but you still begged for it. 

He watched your blissful expression with dark eyes and a devilish smirk. “That’s what I dreamt about.” His rumbling words had your thighs trembling. “You underneath me, taking every inch of my cock, begging to come.”

A hand worked its way to his hair and gripped it, trying to ground yourself from the sensations rushing through you. The edges of your vision blurred as your body wound tighter, ready to give yourself over to the pleasure only he could provide. “Please, Bucky,” you said. At least you thought you said it. The waves were ready to sweep you away. 

“Come for me.” His husky voice wasn't one to be denied. “Make my dream come true.”

Your head fell back, your walls fluttering around his cock as you went over the precipice. Blood roared in your ears, but you could still hear him moan your name as you spiraled out of control. His body followed your lead, pumping his hips a few more times before he came with a deep moan. Feeling him flood your insides and seeing ecstasy fill his gorgeous eyes made you grip him like a vice all over again. 

Bucky pulled you close when he gently collapsed on the bed, staying inside you as long as he could. Your body fit against his like you were designed just for him and you couldn't help but smile as you caught your breath. He smiled, too. A gorgeous, carefree smile. 

“Dream come true?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat when his smile widened and eyes crinkled. 

“Even better,” he whispered, cupping your cheek and skimming his lips against yours in a soft kiss. “Can we just stay like this?

You rubbed your cheek against his hand as the hazy cloud lifted. “If that’s what you want.”

“I meant forever,” he half teased, his hand reaching for yours to trace your bare finger.

Butterflies filled your stomach. It wasn’t a proposal, but it still felt like he was asking in a way. “Do you mean in this bed? As long as we can have our meals here and do movie nights. Oh, and a way to clean the sheets because they’ll be filthy.”

His eyes crinkled again as he chuckled. How did a laugh sound both wholesome and seductive? That was the power of Bucky Barnes. “And sex to keep us in shape,” he said, pulling the sheet more over you. “Sounds perfect, even if I don’t deserve it.”

You tilted your head, gazing at the man who turned your world upside down as the happiness slowly slipped from his face. Like how your body ached for his, your heart ached for him, too. “You do deserve this. You're not a bad man, Bucky.” He needed to hear it again. You'd tell him as many times as it took until it sank in. 

His jaw twitched, his eyes holding a hint of regret. “I’ve killed people,” he reminded you in an even tone.

“I know,” you whispered. You accepted that it was part of his past and who he was. You accepted him. “That doesn’t make you unworthy of me.”

His eyes closed, his hold on you firmer. “It would almost be easier if you condemned me, but I’m a selfish man who wouldn’t be able to let you go.”

Your heart swelled. He was so gone for you. “I’m not asking you to let me go,” you said, turning his head back to you until his eyes opened. “I’m your treasure, remember? Yours to keep.”

The hard edges to his face softened once again. “C’mere,” he breathed. You met him halfway when he leaned in, his lips only on yours for a second when the doorbell rang. You were about to ask if he was expecting company, but he didn’t have to with the way his body tensed. He turned away from you, his phone in hand to check the camera at the front door. Security was important to him. “What the hell?”

“Who is it?” You sat up, not bothering to cover yourself as he got up and threw something on. You couldn’t even appreciate the view since his entire demeanor changed. “And should I go with you?”

His jaw twitched again. “Delivery guy dropped something off and left. Hang back a little,” he answered before he grabbed you a robe. He’d preferred you close as opposed to being in the bedroom alone. “I don’t want anyone seeing you if they’re still nearby.”

“Lots of people see me,” you tried to joke. You stopped smiling when he swung his head your way. He took your safety very seriously. “I’ll hang back.”

Taking your hand, he headed to the front of the villa. Your legs shook a bit, but you blamed that on the orgasm he gave you and not fear. He stopped you before you could reach the door, giving you a quick, hard kiss. It left you breathless when he pulled away. “Stay right here,” he whispered, your heart pounding as he grabbed one of his many hidden guns. 

Weapons everywhere, a habit he’d never break.

You couldn’t see his expression when he went out to retrieve whatever was dropped off, but you understood his paranoia since he lived a dangerous life before. Not a lot of people knew where you were going on this vacation and he clearly wasn't expecting a delivery. “What is it?” you asked once he put the gun away and went back to you. A smile touched your lips when you saw the arrangement of various red flowers. “Those are beautiful.”

“They’re addressed to you.” He plucked the card from the holder to show you, his mouth set in a grim line. “But I didn’t order these.”

Dread filled you as you took the card from him and turned it over. Your name was the only thing written on it, minus a small stamp in the corner you hadn’t seen before: a heart and dagger. “Well, if you didn’t get me these, who did?”

“Someone from my past,” he said so quietly he almost missed it. 

Your eyes widened. “Why would someone from your past send me flowers?” As far as you knew he didn't keep in touch with most of his old associates. “And how do they know we’re here?”

You stopped breathing when you saw his eyes. Cold. Deadly. “That’s what I'm going to find out.”

So much for staying in bed today.

OOH. What do we think so far? I wonder who from Bucky's past is going to pop up and why. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[fleuryns]

PRINCESS TREATMENT ✶ 엔하

𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗥𝗔 ⨾ 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒, 𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖾

❪ 𝑜EUVRES ❫ 愛 𝑙'──엔하이픈 & 𝑓!reader ᵔᴗᵔ fluff scenarios headcanons non-idol au   114O established relationship use of pet names physical intimacy

🎬 . 니니 : enjoy gentlemen enha and have a wonderful weekend! please consider leaving a like and reblogging <33

HEESEUNG has become your personal chaperone ever since you started dating, because he insists on driving you everywhere. he takes you to your appointments and is always there to pick you up afterwards, looking at you like you're crazy when you suggest you could take the bus instead.

HEESEUNG loves to tie your heels for you, every time you wear them and ask him for help he's already sitting down to take your foot on his leg and gently close the little clip, caressing your calf in a swift motion before moving to the other leg, smiling softly to himself.

HEESEUNG takes you shopping anytime, gives you his wallet without a second thought and carries all your bags. if you hand them yourself, he'll quickly accept everything with a smile. but if you don't, he'll frown, gently taking them away. “don't strain your pretty hands with these” he mutters “that's my job”.

JAY works for hours in the kitchen just for you, to cook the things he knows you like. “i made your favorite” he says softly, eyeing your reaction expectantly. he's the happiest when you eat the food he cooked, always fulfilling your requests with a smile, no matter how crazy and difficult they are to make.

JAY is obsessed with and holds your hands at all times, like the true gentleman he is. he occasionally presses his lips softly on the back of your hand or on the inside of your wrist, in a feather-light kiss that leaves a tingling sensation on your skin, making you shiver.

JAY has developed a habit of serenading you at any given moment, and you want to curse whoever introduced him to the guitar. it started kind of as a joke, but now he's very much serious, spending time to carefully select his words and compose the prettiest melody for your ears and your ears only.

JAKE spoils you by buying whatever you want all the time, he allows you to drag him to endless shopping trips and pays for everything with a lovesick grin that shows just how happy he is to get you anything you want. whenever you end up in a store he ends up buying everything you touch without a word.

JAKE would drop anything he is doing if you ever so much call for him. you're his top one priority, because your well-being is also his. he has always his phone on for you, and he always picks up right away. his time is all reserved for his princess, if she wants it.

JAKE just helps you without being asked, sensing what you need like a sixth sense, maybe even before you even realize it. with him by your side, you won't struggle with anything anymore. when you're having trouble with something, he's by your side already and always reassures you with a smile that he's got it.

SUNGHOON carries heavy things for you with a shy insistence, because that's his job and he takes pride in that. he looks up at you when you call him, and he's by your side immediately, rolling his sleeves and getting ready to show off his strength, only for his princess.

SUNGHOON gets you flowers as a gift, no matter the occasion. even just randomly like that, he shows up to your place or to your dates with a fresh colorful bouquet. “pretty flowers for a pretty girl” he announces shyly, handing them to you, his smile growing when you accept them with a happy squeal.

SUNGHOON always finds an excuse to carry you. when it rains a lot and the street is filled with puddles he effortlessly scoops you in his arms silently. when your heels hurt too much he immediately picks you up bridal style despite your protests. “let me help you, baby, im strong enough” he mutters, keeping you close.

SUNOO makes sure to be slightly ahead of you when entering a place, always determined to open the door for you every time. even when you get in a car, he always opens your door first and makes sure you're comfortably seated before closing it and quickly moving to the other side to get in as well.

SUNOO takes your breakfast in bed often, chuckling at your sleepy surprised face even after all these times he's done it. he has all the food arranged neatly on the tray and he just watches you lovingly while you eat. he even occasionally brushes your hair away from your face so it doesn't get in your food.

SUNOO could never get mad at you. the things that usually annoy him when it's other people responsible for the deed, if it's you he doesn't even bat an eye. “it's okay, don't worry about it, angel” he reassures you softly, embracing you in his arms to prove his point.

JUNGWON lets you choose everything you do. he lets you choose the movie you watch, the food you eat, the place you go… he doesn't care that, every time, you end up in the same restaurant or watch the show you like a little too much. he really doesn't care because the smile on your lips could repay anything. 

JUNGWON always pulls the chair for you when you sit down at a cafe or a restaurant, with a simplicity that brings butterflies to your stomach, but his smile hints that the action is very much purposeful. of course, he knows you could do it alone, but the feeling of getting to spoil you like that is unmatched.

JUNGWON makes you feel like royalty just with the right nickname. “my princess~” he muses at the most random moments, hugging you from behind or cupping your cheeks in his hands. the nickname is filled with such devotion that you can't help but melt a little.

RIKI gives you his jacket all the time. it doesn’t matter if he'll be cold, he finds you too cute drowning in his big jacket anyway. but he pretends like it's not a big deal, shrugging while putting his hands in his pockets to mask the fact that he's completely head over heels.

RIKI is always ready to make you feel safe, that's what you noticed after you started dating. he reassures you when you're scared, taking his knight in shining armor part very seriously. he pulls you in his arms and holds you there, whispering soft reassurances in your ear until you feel all better again.

RIKI 's eyes never leave your figure, he especially loves looking at you from across the room, just making sure you're comfortable and happy at all times. he hates when you're sad, he never wants you to be. and since big flamboyant acts of service were never his forte, he keeps an eye on you to make up for it.

© 𝖥𝖫𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖸𝖭𝖲 | 2025

[enhani-ki]

ENHYPEN AS YOUR "HOMEBOY"

warnings : very short, maybe a little suggestive :)

HEESEUNG

your homeboy who's too naturally flirty. it happens all the time that you don't even catch it anymore—you thought you'd become numb or immune to it.

you're his food buddy. you always share bites and judge menus together.

sometimes you'll talk about something deep like fear of failure or what dreams even mean anymore—and he'll tell you how far you've come, or let's you know just how proud he is of you. sometimes you'll get shy and flustered, sometimes you'll roll your eyes, and sometimes, you just straight up cry.

"what?" he'd say, all wide-eyes and innocent. "what did i say?" "what the hell did i do?"

if it were anyone else, they'd fall for him every time.

JAY

your homeboy who shows you love through quiet actions. he surprises you with either little or big gifts like: a drink you mentioned once, a charm you saw at a stall, jewelry, or a designer t-shirt you've been eyeing nonstop. doesn't need a 'thank you' and never ever made a big deal out of anything.

jay loves taking naps with you. he's also not loud but for sure gets that random energy burst. sometimes he starts yapping, your heads would bump together because he's moving so much.

truth is, he'll probably do and give you whatever you ask. jay loves seeing you happy and he loves it more when you're comfortable in life.

JAKE

your homeboy who treats you like you're one of his beloved dogs. he loves taking walks with you outside and he's always affectionate. he touches your back or waist, sometimes he gets protective without realizing it.

jake gets those bursts of cute aggression whenever he looks at you, randomly slapping your thighs (gently?) while laughing biting his lip or biting his tongue out.

like heeseung, he's also naturally flirty.

his eyes light up and he gets excited when you let him treat you or spoil you even a little.

SUNGHOON

your homeboy who always clock your tea. he always bickers with you and nagging like you've been married to him for 15 years.

he tries to be patient but will 100% call you out when you start acting dumb or when you don't take him seriously. still, he's the one who gets worried the most for you, always checking in on you.

karaoke nights. he shows you his exclusive tiktoks. whenever he goes shopping with you, sunghoon wants you to take everything you want and he just pay for it.

SUNOO

your homeboy who matches your energy so perfectly. you're both full of genuine love and compliments, it's like a competition on who loves who more.

you do skincare or make-up together. you both take each other on dates and post cute pictures with lovey-dovey captions.

with him, it's glittery, chaotic, and lowkey kind of romantic. he's your soulmate for real.

JUNGWON

your chillest homeboy. makes sure you're fed, makes sure you both went to the place you wanted to check out, he lets you pick where to eat, and like to puts a hand in your shoulder while walking together.

he always has the best reactions whenever he listens to your rants. jungwon knows all your gossip, even knows the life story of people he's never met.

always calm, unbothered, and quietly devoted to your comfort. people are always mistaking you for a couple though.

NI-KI

your clingiest homeboy but be on some nonchalant shit sometimes, it's annoying. dramatically calls you into his room for an 'emergency' only to ask you to turn off the light because he's too cozy to move.

he runs to you when the others tease him and back him into the corner. "can you tell them i'm right?" "back me up, please? just this once?" even though you always do.

you message each other every day. he always win at every games, makes fun of you, then feel bad after.

ni-ki loves his nap sessions with you, sometimes you even wake up with his arms wrapped around your waist.

fake trips and you have no idea why. he loves it because you spoil him all the time but when it's his turn to do the same for you? it's 1000/10, chef's kiss, he knows everything you want and he'll give it to you.

note : i hope i understood what platonic means TT マスターリストm.list

[pawtiism]

as someone who got a breast reduction surgery ( 2 months ago ) i can fully wholeheartedly confirm that it has made my life so much better. i have little to no back pain now, i can wear cute tops, and i don’t have to wear a bra.

im ALSO a lesbian who loves boobs of all shapes and sizes but i also love it when people are comfortable in their bodies. my ex didn’t want me to get the surgery even though i told him about the issues of having large boobs. “but they look good” to YOU. i didn’t like them. i hated them, actually, because my right boob was a whole size bigger than my left. my left was DD, my right was DDD. i couldn’t even make my bed without getting extreme lower back pain.

people keep asking me if i regret it. i don’t. i love my boobs now. im actually happy with how i look ( although i would like a bigger butt ).

modern empath crisis of faith

[muqingslover]

Your latest fic destroyed me (in the best possible way, im weak to angst) and I've been binge reading the other stuff you have here in order to console myself lol (love it all btw!!)

What I wanted to ask is, what features do you think lads' kids would inherit from them? In the case of the guys that want kids ofc. I have this hc that Caleb's genes are stubborn af, and all his kids have his eye colour copy paste. (If you're open to requests, that is!!)

[ Thank you for your kind words anon! 💕💕 I'm always happy to hear that you guys enjoy my work! For those who are curious, this is the fic anon is referring to!

Your request ended being quite short though bc there really wasn't much for me to elaborate (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ I've mentioned before I don't see some of the boys with children, but I did them anyway for you to make up for the length! ]

⊹ His physical traits gene is like a Russian roulette, but his personality genes are unbeatable.

⊹ If Xavier was to have children they'd be as sleepy and clingy as their father.

⊹ They miiiight get his hair color, but the rest? A carbon copy of you.

⊹ I also feel like his children would be really whiny in a super cute, not annoying-toddler way.

⊹ The most adorable puppy eyes and pouty face. It feels impossible to say no to them.

⊹ The strongest genes known to man.

⊹ His children are literal copy-paste of himself. White hair, red eyes, dragon traits, ECT.

⊹ They however have your personality plus are also very, very high energy.

⊹ He absolutely adores them of course, but Sylus would ask to keep trying until he gets a mini version of yourself. What can he say, he loves you.

⊹ Oh and they're super high maintenance, much more than most kids. The twins do very little to actually help and just add to the chaos for most part.

⊹ The perfect balance of the two of you.

⊹ The little girl would have his green eyes with your hair and is just gorgeous.

⊹ The personality is a mix of both, except she is as smart as her father.

⊹ If you're an extroverted then she might be more outgoing compared to Zayne, though still enjoys sitting and playing by herself.

⊹ Annoying father = Annoying children.

⊹ Okay okay I'm joking! Kind of. The children all get his purple hair and dramatic flair.

⊹ And that my friends results in the little ones and their dad to butt heads all the damn time.

⊹ The only person they listen to is mommy, including Rafayel.

⊹ The mermaid lineage is also very strong so invest in a much bigger bathtub and prepare your heart for the water bill.

⊹ I totally agree with you that this man's genes are very stubborn.

⊹ You get a literal duplicate of him when that sweet little boy is born, personality and all.

⊹ This extends to his obsession with his mama and their silly banter over who gets to cuddle you to sleep. (He lets the little one wins because his heart is weak)

⊹ Personally though? Caleb wants a perfect mix of the two of you if you're willing to keep trying.

[vivlily]

can you please explain who these horses are????

You made a mistake in asking me, but I will try anyway. This will go over some general things and mainly focus on white and cyan, not so much the other horses.

They are characters from a Twitter webseries/game(?) hosted by @/snakesandrews. Where viewers essentially vote on whatever horse they think might win. These horses bounce around randomly off of objects like a screensaver of sorts, and a horse wins once it touches a png of a carrot.

These horses are typically referred to by their color until they win and are thus given a name, for instance, orange, eventually becoming jovial merryment.

How much or how little these horses win as well as what goes on during a race end up leading to a lot of fan made content. And for the most part, any characterization of these horses is largely up to fan interpretation.

For these two horses, white and cyan specifically? White and cyan and brown would go on to not win one match for quite some time, leading to them being put into a race all on their own. Which brown would eventually go on to win and attain the name Door Knob. Leaving white and cyan in their own little race. With a special little map, file this special little map for later.

It is important to note that these races do not usually last much longer than around 2 or 2 and a half minutes. Cyan and White would go on to race for a whole 7 minutes and 9 seconds. This led to a lot of fans depicting them as sort've not wanting to win, usually because of enjoying one another's company or something similar. I'm a yuri minded individual, so you can probably guess how I decided to interpret it.

As you probably realized, since they had a defined time for the race, a winner also exists. This is where White had won, earning the name Superstitional Realism. This led to a lot of fans depicting Cyan as either feeling betrayed or upset by white winning. Some also show Cyan being happy for white.

It here that white, now superstitional realism(I will refer to her as Sup from now on), would join the next days' race and proceed to not win. And in the next day's race, white would be mysteriously missing. It is in this race that Sup is missing that something unusual happens once the race is over.

Cyan has lost every single race, every single one. This race where Sup is missing is followed by a video in which Cyan was racing all alone in an empy room with only herself, eventually obtaining her first win. But did such a win even count? There was no one for Cyan to even race against after all. It was assumed Cyan would get a name for her victory, but the fanfare screen would simply continue listing her name as Cyan.

People expected that Cyan would finally join the next race proper, only for the next race to be a race between what looked to be 7 distorted horses (6 a form of cyan, and 1 white). Despite there being 6 cyans, they still lost to the distorted white horse, whose fanfare screen read "a Mysterious figure." Leading many to think this might be cyan reliving her worst moments, and more specifically, the moment where she get left behind by white.

The latest race as of this post was with the regular set of horses interspliced with the 6 distorted cyans having a race of their own. It's unknown if this "nightmare" world is real or in cyans head. But one of the 6 distorted cyans does win and is rewarded with the name of Garbage Bin. We then cut back to the "normal" world where Sup remains missing and jovial merryment wins the race(go figure).

Now, do you remember that special little map where cyan and white initially raced in? The "normal" world race was taking place on the very same map, just with more color and rounder edges. This leads to me and probably a few others believing that that last race was the other horses looking for cyan.

My assumption for why Sup has been missing for the last few races is because white had already gone back to look for cyan ahead of everyone else.

As for how the story might end? Well, you can find out both today and Friday as the series seems to be having it's last to races.

Will jovial win once more? It's possible. It's annoyingly possible. And will cyan and sup have a happy ending? I SURE HOPE SO. SAVE YOUR GIRL.

Whadya mean I'm getting emotional over screensaver pngs?!?

Apologies if this was long winded, I'm not used to typing this much and suck at using words. BUT you made the mistake of asking me, dear Anon. Always remember there is always yuri for those with eyes to see. Now go consume some fan content, there's a lot of really good writers and artists out there, show them some love.

[butyoudidthis4what]

Something Else (Perfumer Part 2)

Jack Abbot x Bratty f!Reader

6.8k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CWs: NSFW, MDNI 18+, established relationship, dom!jack vibes, oral f receiving, mention of alcohol, biting, hickeys, manhandling, edging, stubble burn reference, spanking, unprotected PIV sex (birth control not discussed, but implied with the established relationship), age gap (reader 30ish, Jack mid/late 40s) but not mentioned, teasing, reader is a brat, like a really really big brat, no use of y/n or related, zero proofreading of any kind.

Summary: Continuation of Perfumer. Jack finally gets off shift and home to you. Bratty reader gets tamed.

AN: This feels like such an abrupt change of pace from No Man's Land which is where I have been living. It was just in my head and I needed to get it out. It's pretty much straight PWP which has historically been rare for me. I am quite nervous about posting this one because my smut writing feels so so so rusty and potentially not very great. So, I hope it's okay!

This is the look I picture him giving reader at the beginning!

Jack hears the quiet and slightly shuddery breath you take in at his words and can’t help but smirk. 

He likes this little game you guys play, likes when you’re a brat and he has to tame you and earn your submission. Likes when you start it subtly out in public.

Collins walks up to the opposite side of the desk around the same time you and Jack arrive. You share a brief moment of eye contact and then you scratch at your ear. You stop with Jack at the desk and stand close to him, close enough for your sides to touch. 

“Hey,” Collins calls your name to get your attention. You’ve become very close friends very fast. “I’m working with your man tonight, but I’m off tomorrow with some of the other girls and we were thinking of trying that new brunch place two blocks up once I’m off.” Jack’s head pops up and looks between you and Collins before settling back on you. “We figure somewhere between nine and eleven a.m. But McKay said she was happy to provide pregame mimosas at her place while you wait for me. She said she was fine with seven, good to stay on schedule.” 

 “That sounds so fun!” You nod at her, start walking over towards her, acutely aware of the way Jack tracks you as you do. “I’ve really been wanting to try that place! Probably makes the most sense for me to go over to McKay’s at seven if she’s going to be awake, just in case you actually get off on time for once.” 

Collins goes to speak again but Jack speaks first. “Don’t you already have plans?” 

You look back over at him confused. “No? Not unless I’m forgetting something.”

Subconsciously Jack moves his head towards you. “I think you are,” he nods. “Remember, we made plans.”

“Did we? When?” You go to say more but you’re interrupted by Collins laughter. “Heather!”

“I’m so sorry, the look on his face, I couldn’t help it!” She keeps laughing and it makes you laugh. 

“What?” Jack asks, clearly unamused. 

“We’re just screwing with you Jackie!” You giggle as you walk over to him. “We had a prearranged plan and signal to do this when I finally felt the time was right.” 

Jack blinks at you. “Did you now?” 

“Don’t pout.” You stick your lip out dramatically. “I have not forgotten our plans,” you assure him. You drop your voice for only the two of you to hear and run your hands over his chest, smoothing out his scrub top. “And I can assure you that I would never forget the kind of plans we have, nor would I ever take a rain check on them for some other offer.” 

“You’re a brat,” he replies lowly, an edge to his voice that makes another chill run up your spine. 

“You like it,” you whisper back to him before leaning up on your toes to give him a quick kiss. “Thank you, Heather!” You call out to her as she walks away and she just waves, still laughing to herself. “Have a great shift Dr. Abbot. Try not to have too much fun without me. Love you.” 

“Yeah, I love you too.” His eyes still track you as you walk backwards a little and wave at him before turning to walk out. “Hey,” he calls to you. You look back with your eyebrows raised in expectation. “Promises.”

You bite your lip and nod before turning again to leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You let yourself get some sleep while Jack works but make sure to set an alarm for 6:45 a.m. so that you can be up when he’s off. Or at least when he’s supposed to be off. Unsurprisingly, there’s no text from him at 7:00, but at 7:05 you get one. 

J – Probably going to be a few hours late.

You – No worries, me and my ankles will be here waiting patiently for your arrival home.

The next text comes at 10:07 a.m.

J – You up?

You – Of course. Just freshened up the ankles for you, loverboy.

You can practically see his eyes rolling from here, but you know he likes it. 

J – You will not like what will happen if you are not on the bed naked and waiting when I get home. 

You – That another promise, Jackie?

At that one you can just picture the way he clenched his jaw as he got in his car. You’re not surprised when you don’t get an answer. 

You do as he asks though. Kind of. 

You shut the bedroom door and strip, and then you put on what you think are one of the sexiest pairs of panties you own. 

You walk over to your shared bed and lay down, propping yourself up with a pillow just enough that you can make eye contact with anyone who walks through the door. 

You let your hand drift lower and lower until your fingers brush over your clit on top of the fabric. He hadn’t given you permission, hadn’t told you to even start getting yourself ready for him. You keep touching yourself, let your fingers rub circles over your clit, use the fabric rubbing against you as a new sensation, all the while thinking of what he’s going to do to you when he gets home. 

Your panties are noticeably wet by the time you hear the front door open, fingers sticky with your arousal despite having stayed on top of the fabric the whole time. 

Jack can feel himself starting to fill out again as he reads how you freshened up your ankles for him. You’ve pushed him today. But he needs it. He thrives on it, almost always, on taming you. On pushing you to the edge of your limits. On earning your submission.  

The drive is mercifully traffic free. He steps into your place, locks the door behind him and just drops his backpack on the floor. Doesn’t put it aside in its usual spot. Doesn’t hang his coat up on one of the hooks. Doesn’t call out for you. 

His coat lands wherever it finally falls off him as he stalks through the house towards your room. His shirt meets the same fate, landing not far from the bedroom door. He’s already fully hard by the time his hand hits the doorknob and pushes open your bedroom door. 

In retrospect he’s not sure why it wasn’t, but the sight of you on the bed, looking right at him, almost totally naked and rubbing your clit over your panties was not what he expected to see when he opened the door. He didn’t expect to hear your soft panting and the softest and most breathy moan of his name. Jack. He tries not to let you see how it gets to him, how you get to him but he knows you’ll see the clench of his jaw and flare of his nostrils. You’re a sight. The most beautiful and erotic one he’s ever seen. 

You bite your lip at him, fight to keep the smirk off your face, but don’t stop. After locking eyes with him for a moment you let your eyes move from his and trail all over his chest and abdomen and arms. And the now very prominent bulge in his scrub pants. He’s too handsome. He burns you sometimes you swear, just by standing there shirtless and silent with that stoic face of his and that jaw and those eyes that ever so slightly tell you just how affected he is. 

Wordlessly Jack steps further into the room and shuts the door before looking back at you. Silence like this always means something with him. Means he’s sexually frustrated and annoyed with you. Means he’s ready to tame. The way he cocks his head just slightly, though, is a silent challenge.  

“It’s funny, sweetheart. I don’t remember my text saying anything about you being allowed to touch yourself and distinctly remember it telling you to be naked on the bed.” His voice is too calm, too composed. He has too much control over himself, it drives you insane sometimes.

“Well,” you sigh softly, roll your hips a bit as you keep circling your clit, “the text didn’t say not to touch myself.” You take a second to let out a few more moans, another of his name, lick your lips. “And technically I’m not really touching myself. The fabric is touching me, there’s been no skin on skin, Jackie,” you smirk at him. 

Jack clenches his jaw and lets out a short hummed laugh. He doesn’t say anything though. He just takes his scrub pants off, tosses them in the corner and looks back at you in just his boxer briefs.  

He stalks closer to the bed, closer to you. “You think you’re real fuckin’ cute, don’t you?”

“Are you saying I’m not?” You pout just a little too cloyingly and he knows you’re still trying to fuck with him. 

“That’s not an answer.” A little jaw clench there. 

“Hmmm,” you hum, finally take your fingers away from yourself and up to your mouth, sucking them clean before releasing them. “Well it’s the only one you’re going to get.” 

“That so?” 

He can be so quick when he wants to be and before his question has fully hit you and you can start thinking of some bratty reply he’s leant over the center of the foot of the bed enough to grab your ankles and pull you down the bed. It’s so unexpected you yelp, but not in pain. He’s a doctor, he knows just where to grab to not pull too much on your hip or ankle. “Well that wasn’t a very bratty noise now, was it sweetheart?”

He pulls you by the hips now so that your ass is at the edge of the bed, rips your panties down and off you. Before you can wrap your legs around his waist he catches them, holds them up parallel to his body in front of him, but spread just enough for him to stand in between them. It gives him the perfect view of your pussy, glistening and on display for him. You see his eyes slip down to take you in before he drags them back to yours. He holds your eye contact as he moves his face towards one of your ankles and breaks your gaze just as the side of his face starts to brush your inner calf. 

Jack turns his face completely and you can see him hold his breath while he gives you just a little check in, a quick kiss to the inside of your ankle. And then he takes a deep breath through his nose. 

His head snaps back to look at you, pupils blown as wide as they can be, jaw clenched and rolling with the subtlest twitch under his eye for a second that only you would notice. His hands grip your legs tighter, tight enough to hurt just a little. Anyone else might think he was looking at you with controlled but raging anger. 

But you know that it’s a look of primal, possessive need, that Jack’s on fire for you, all searing skin and simmering blood and deep panting breaths. You know that his cock hurts as it strains against the fabric of his boxer briefs because he needs you so viscerally.

There’s another glance down at your pussy again as you hum saccharinely. His eyes snap back to yours. The slowest smirk pulls across your face as you hold his gaze, your eyes smoldering at him. For him. 

“Just thought you might like a little reminder of what’s yours, that’s all.”

Jack’s chest heaves just a little harder at your words and his eyes narrow slightly before pulling from yours and traveling down your body to take in you, all on display for him as he decides just what it is he wants to do with you.  

His cologne. 

His cologne is what you sprayed on your ankles. His cologne with just enough of a hint of your perfume coming through behind it so that it smells like you do after sex when he’s owned you, touched you so much and held you so close and fucked you so hard and so deep that the dewy sweat of your skin has evaporated much but not quite all of your perfume away and his cologne has stuck to you, marking you as his.

He’s still silent. Not brooding like he does sometimes. He’s just thinking. Just using the silence to toy with you and make you wait. Something about that makes you shiver. 

And Jack thinks he has you at that shiver. Keeps silent. Keeps looking at your body, especially your cunt. Keeps waiting for you to be the one to break and speak first. And you will be. 

But Jack thinks he has you and you saw it in a quick sweep of his eyes over your face at your shiver and you simply can’t have that. Not yet. 

“What’s wrong, Jackie?” You break the silence and give the smallest pout before your smirk comes back. “Pussy got your tongue?”

He raises his eyebrows at you, a slow smirk matching your own pulling up. He laughs a little. It’s a little more dangerous than if he hadn’t reacted because of how controlled it is, how it shows how much control he still has left. “Cute,” he nods at you as he caresses your ankles, eyes narrowing just slightly. “You’re cute when you’re a brat.” 

“I try-” You’re cut off by him suddenly bending your legs at the knee and pushing them towards you as he moves closer to the bed, drops to his knees on the carpet. He rests your feet on his shoulder, leaving your ankles right there for the fragrance to perfume the air. 

He takes in another long breath through his nose and you swear you can hear him growl before soft kisses are being placed up your inner thigh. Instead of moving inward though Jack kisses outward, along the inner line where your hip and thigh meet. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t spray anything here for me to find,” he murmurs against your skin as he kisses back towards where you’re desperate for him. 

“I considered it.” The words come out a little breathless as he gets closer and closer to your center. “But decided against it because then I would’ve had to listen to you bitch about not being able to smell me.”

Jack bites your inner thigh only a few inches away from your cunt and sucks, hard. Hard enough to leave imprints of his teeth, to suck a developing bruise into your skin. As he does so his stubble rubs lightly across your lips, breath hitching and hips twitching as you fight yourself to keep them down and not give him the satisfaction. 

He releases your thigh. “I don’t bitch,” he says nonchalantly. Too nonchalantly. As though he hasn’t noticed his face is an inch and a half away from your pussy. 

“Yes you-” You’re cut off with a gasp as Jack’s tongue licks up you cunt to clit. Your head falls back onto the pillow without a thought as the sensation of his tongue overwhelms you. 

“Sorry sweetheart,” he pulls away from you for just a second, “were you saying something?”

He renders you unable to answer by giving you another lick before using the tip of his tongue to trace lazy figure-eights around your clit. His tongue drops down again and he leans into you, sucks at as much of you as he can before going up to focus on your clit, taking it between his lips and sucking, but leaving just enough space to not get a complete seal so it doesn’t feel quite as good as it could. 

You whine softly about it because Jack’s eaten you out and sucked at your clit enough times for you to know how it normally feels, that he’s fucking insanely talented at it and that he never slips like this. So you know he’s doing it deliberately. 

He gives a little grunt against you to say fine, if you’re so unhappy with it he’ll go elsewhere, and the vibrations of it as he sucks and pulls away from your clit make your hips jolt. Jack’s hands immediately come up and hold your hips down, hands strong and warm and so big as he presses his fingertips down into your skin. 

Jack trails his tongue down, teasingly traces circles around your entrance as he basks in the little mewls you make for him. His cock throbs hard against the fabric of his boxer briefs and he gives the slightest groan about it. 

As quickly as his tongue dropped down to tease you it pushes inside of you and you moan, louder than you want to for him right now. Jack’s stubble rubs against your inner thighs as he tongue fucks you a few times and then pulls out, fingers squeezing your hips harder when you whine about it. 

His lips move back up to your clit and suck again, but this time the seal of them is tight around you, his tongue flicking little circles against you in his mouth. It steals your breath for a second as your back arches while your hips remain pinned to the bed by his hands. “Oh, Jack!” The moan is quiet, clearly slipping out of your lips unconsciously. Your hands fist the sheets hard before unclenching and starting to move down to his salt and pepper curls.

Jack isn’t looking at you, he has his eyes closed as he focuses on you and the little noises you’re making for him but that you’re trying to hide and how you taste and how you smell and how hot your pussy is on his skin, chin coated in you. But he doesn’t need to be looking to know your next move. 

He suddenly pulls his face from you. “Don’t even fucking try it or we’ll end this right here, right now and I’ll go fuck my fist in the shower.”

You freeze for a second and then pull your hands back up and twist at the sheets again, give him a huff. 

Jack takes the few seconds he’s pulled away from you to move his hands from your hips and push his boxer briefs down, freeing himself. He gives a little groan of relief when his hand wraps around him and tugs a few times. You’re already a little too fucked out to really notice.

He lets his hand stay there as he brings his face back to your cunt, starts licking and sucking again. He fucks his fist as he devours you whole, needs the relief even as a piece of him mourns the fact that it’s his hand and not your hand or your mouth or your cunt. 

Jack builds a pattern with his tongue, repeats it over and over as you writhe for him against the sheets, as you give him sweet little moan after moan until you’re finally moaning his name loudly. Pleasure courses through you and heat roils in your lower belly as your muscles contract tighter and tighter and Jack works you closer and closer. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you pant out “just like that Jack, just like that, fuck!”

And then he changes his pattern. You let out a vaguely frustrated sigh, but can’t stay true to it because the new pattern is just as good. You can feel him smirk against you at your sigh, move his face just a little so that his stubble scratches into you a little harder, starts to etch into your skin. 

Jack touches himself faster and faster as he licks and sucks at you, paying attention to how close he is and how close you are. The grunts and groans he pulls from himself send shivers through you and drive you that much closer to the edge. Your mind is so pleasure hazy you don’t even think to question why he’s making them. 

Once he gets himself right to the edge he slows down, is more absentminded with himself as he doubles down on you, pushes you right up to that same ledge with his tongue and mouth. He can feel your toes curl against him as you get a second away from the point of no return. 

You already know what’s going to happen but it doesn’t help, doesn’t make it easier to weather when he rips himself away from you. “No!” You cry it out for him despite yourself, despite wanting to appear unaffected. 

Jack laughs darkly. “You know only good girls get to cum, babygirl.”

You huff slightly, lay there panting with your eyes closed as you try and ride out your almost orgasm, hear Jack stand up. He lets one of your legs fall gently and holds the other up against his chest by your calf. So you wait for him. For whatever is next.  

You don’t expect the way he runs the palm of his hand through you though, the way he curls his fingers to drag up you in a way to collect as much of the arousal he’s pulled from you on his hand as possible. “Fuck, Jack!”

Your eyes fly open at you prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him. The sight of him wrapping his slicked up palm and fingers around himself and starting to fuck his fist is unexpected but anything but unwelcome. 

“This could be, you know.” His voice is low, followed by a few low pants as he touches himself. “This should be you.” He lets his hand that’s holding your calf adjust your leg so that he can turn his head and breathe in through his nose at your upper ankle, let the smell of him owning you course through him. His head turns back and his eyes find yours. He stares at you with that same intensity from earlier but this time it’s glazed with an even heavier lust. “I should be in your hand, or your mouth, or your cunt,” he growls at you. “But am I?”

Though an obvious answer, it’s not a rhetorical question. He expects an answer. Expects you to acknowledge and think about how he’s not in your hand or your mouth or your cunt. You stare at him, can hear your heart beating in your ears, pussy growing wetter and mouth salivating at the thought. You just can’t help yourself though. 

“Well if you have to ask Jackie…” You give him a little shrug. 

“God, fuck!” Jack groans, voice strained as he aims his cock at you and comes all over your pussy and lower abdomen. He works himself through it, chest heaving, glistening with sweat and flushed as he slows his hand and releases himself. “You’re fucking pushing it,” he almost laughs, but it’s more an observation he happens to find entertaining. 

He stares at his cum that sticks so prettily to your skin and pussy, claiming you just for him as he lets himself come down from his orgasm. “You look so beautiful like his,” he murmurs lowly, voice huskier than normal. “Covered in me.”

Before you can say anything he looks away from you and grabs the panties you were wearing, uses them to clean you off and sits you up. It surprises you a little, that he’s so eager to wipe it away. But then he’s sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. 

He shows you again just how quick he can be, and you’re yelping again at the suddenness of finding yourself bent over his knees with his palm caressing one of your ass cheeks. There’s no build up. There doesn’t need to be. You know why you’re in this position. 

“Count.” It’s an order.

“Or what? You’ll spank me?”

He does, obviously. It’s a little harder than he had been planning the first one to be just because of the extra attitude, the smacking sound a little sharper. Another one to the other cheek follows swiftly. He can feel you squirm on him and hear the softest moan that just makes it through your lips into the air despite your otherwise lack of reaction. 

There’s a pause as he waits. Waits for you to say one. Two. 

“I distinctly remember telling you to count.” His voice is still so composed even with as low in pitch as it drops.

“I am!” You huff at him. He squeezes at one of your cheeks where his hand just came down. “I am!” You repeat, doing your best to sound indignant which is difficult given the position you find yourself in. “In my head.” You feel his entire body tense. “What? You just said count. Not count out loud.”

Jack takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He’s quite certain he hears you giggle about it. There’s some part of him that’s a little proud of you for this little display. He shifts his legs a little, spreads them just a bit and runs his hand over your cheek and under you to pinch your clit. Not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to make you jolt and let out another pretty little moan for him. You can feel him start to get hard again against your thigh. 

“Outloud.”

Another little giggle. 

“Sir, yes sir.” 

He’s good at spanking, you have to give him that. He gives you ten in total, five to each cheek. He doesn’t alternate every time, brings his hand down in quick succession sometimes and makes you wait torturously for it to come back down at others, varies the pressure and how hard he brings his hand down against you, where he brings it down. 

By the time he’s done tears sting at your eyes as your ass throbs, burning and sore and stinging in its own right. 

“Good girl.” It’s low, breathed out more than actually spoken as he leans you back up, but you’re still able to hear it. The part of your brain that wants to be a brat feels betrayed by the part that glows at his praise and approval and sends warm happiness flowing through you. 

“Center of the bed. On your stomach.” For once this morning you actually do as he asks, crawl your way to the center of the bed and lay on your stomach as he takes his prosthetic off and crawls up in between your legs. 

You rest your head on its side, look back at him as much as you can. His eyes run over your ass as his hands grab your hips and haul you up to your knees. You go to push yourself up on your hands or elbows but all too quickly his hand wraps around the back of your neck and pushes you back down wordlessly. 

With his other hand he gets himself lined up with you and pushes inside you slowly, cognizant that while he’s already edged you and gotten you nearly dripping for him, only his tongue has been inside you, no fingers to help prep you. You whimper but Jack knows you well enough to know that its not from physical pain but rather from how slowly he’s sliding into you. 

As he bottoms out Jack closes his eyes and takes deep breaths, a little shaky because fuck do you feel good and fuck has he been waiting to be buried inside you since you showed up at the Pitt. 

He pulls out of you slowly, lets you feel every ridge and vein of him before he snaps his hips hard to get himself back inside of you. 

“Ohh,” you moan out, “Jack, fuck.” He does it again, pulls out torturously slow and snaps back in. 

“You want more baby?” He says as saccharine and teasing as you’d spoken to him when he got home. He pulls out a little faster this time, moves his hand from your neck and uses both hands to help pull you back onto him so he can fuck you even harder. 

You immediately go to get up on your elbows again. “Stay down,” Jack warns, curling over you a little and using his hand to guide you back down. It changes the angle, makes him slide deeper inside of you which draws a moan from you and an erratic buck of his hips as he chases the feeling. 

“But I can’t see you like this,” you pout, breathing heavily. 

“Brats don’t get to see,” Jack grunts out, leans back up and returns both hands to your hips so that he can return to fucking you harder. 

You take in a couple of panted breaths, tilt your head at an awkward angle for a second to see a little more of him. You know he sees you do it. Somehow you manage to smile at him. 

“You’re cute when you’re all worked up.” You mirror his words from earlier back to him and manage the smallest smirk before turning your head back to a neutral position. 

Jack lets out a quick scoff. “You’re really fucking something else today.” Jack slides his hands up a little and pushes down, forcing your ass to come up higher for him, again letting him get deeper and hit harder with the added bonus of keeping your head on the mattress. He watches your hands curl in the sheets as he rails you.

“Touch yourself,” he orders. 

He snarks a laugh at how you don’t have to be given that instruction twice, hand sliding between your legs and rubbing erratically at your clit as your brain starts to get pleasure drunk off his cock.  

Neither of you speak for a bit, not real words. It’s just the sounds of your panting and the moans and groans you pull from each other and the slap of skin on skin. You’re the first to break.

“Oh god! Jack!” You mewl as the pleasure starts to overtake you. He can hear and feel how close you are.

“Stop touching yourself.” Another order. You falter on this one, like you knew he would. So he stops, removes your hand himself.

Another orgasm ebbs away from you. 

You whine but do your damndest to remain unaffected, to try not to show how desperate you’re getting. But your whine has just enough of a desperate edge to it to let Jack know he almost has you. 

“What was it you said again?” He starts rubbing your clit. “Oh yes, I remember. The anticipation and wait makes it better.” He gives another dark laugh as he starts fucking you again, just as hard and just as intense. 

“Oh fuck Jack!” You gasp out. He hadn’t given you much come down time and so you feel your orgasm cresting again quickly. 

“Close, baby?” He asks like he doesn’t already know by the feel of your cunt around him. 

You can only nod as the pleasure grows stronger and stronger, your breaths coming harder and harder as you moan nonsense to Jack. 

“Jack!” You draw his name out in a moaned whine. “Need to come. Need to.” Your speech is a little slurred now. 

“Brats don’t get to come.” It’s nearly mocking the way he says it. Cocky. Like he knows he has you now. Because he does. He knows how close you are. His pace doesn’t relent. He speaks through the panting breaths he takes. “And what are you sweetheart?” 

“A brat.” You look back up at him with watery eyes and a real pout this time, on the verge of tears of pleasure. “Please-

“You still think you’re real fuckin’ cute?” he pants, cutting you off. 

“No, I’m sorry, please Jack, Sir, I,” a few tears slide down your face. “I want to be good for you.” You’re so ready for it, so convinced he’s going to let you have it now. 

But Jack stops and pulls out of you and you let out a little sob as more tears fall.  

“Shh, shh, shh,” he shushes you softly as he flips you over so you’re on your back. “I’ve got you.”

He pushes back inside you, grabs your calves and throws one over his shoulder, takes his time with the other as he lets himself take in a deep breath through his nose at your inner ankle and lets out what sounds like a growl from the deep within his chest before settling it on him like the other. His fingers on one hand toy with your clit as he leans over you and grinds himself into you. With how worked up and sensitive you are and the sound he just made for you it’s all you need and he finally lets you have it. 

Your orgasm shatters you. You swear you lose hearing for a minute, lose the ability to breathe and that your vision goes white 

“There she is,” Jack drawls, “there’s my good girl.” He moves his hand and stills his hips, let his hands grope at your breasts, fingers gently teasing at your nipples. 

You pant hard as you try to reorient yourself, finally get your eyes back open and look up at Jack. 

“Jack,” your breathing starts to return to normal. “Please,” you breathe. 

He moves your legs off his shoulders and helps you wrap them around his waist, lowers himself down so that your chests touch. “Please gets you what you want, doesn’t it sweetheart?” He leans his head into your neck and starts kissing you there, soft teasing things. 

“Yes.” It’s just as breathless as your please and something about it drives Jack wild. You let one arm slip under his shoulder and bend up to cling to his back as much as you can, the other staying above his shoulder so that your hand can find his hair, let your fingers run through it.

Jack starts fucking you again, hard. He puts his whole body into it, arching his back and using his knees for leverage to help his thighs and hips drive into you over and over. He keeps kissing your neck, sucks at it, nibbles at the spots he knows are most sensitive. 

“Oh Jack!” You arch up into him. “Jack, Jack, Jack.” He feels too good, fucks you too good. It’s unreal. 

You hear him grunt low from deep in his chest and it makes you shiver, let out a whine. “I love the way you say my name when you’re like this. Fucked out and cock drunk.” 

Jack’s voice reveals he’s just as drunk on your pussy as you are his cock.

It rips through you out of seemingly nowhere at his words, your second orgasm, just as good as your first but deeper, more intense in the way it feels like your muscles contract so hard all your bones will snap before they release with a rush of pleasure that makes you arch into Jack again. 

His name slips off your tongue in a moaned prayer again. “Jack, Jack, Jack.”

“You sound so pretty when you come for me.” He kisses at your jaw, down your neck, sucks at your collarbone while he fucks you through it.

Jack moves his hand, slows his hips to give you a little bit of time to recover. You whimper through your tears of pleasure. He’s not chasing his own release. 

Because he’s not done with you yet.

He picks the pace of his hips back up and you moan for him, claw at his back and scalp. He knows it’s not going to take much to get you there a third time with how sensitive you are, right on the border of pleasurable and painful overstimulation.

“You’ve got one more in you for me, sweetheart, I know you do.”

You shake your head at him. “I can’t.” You sniffle and he leans in to kiss away your tears. You say that you can’t but you trust Jack to know your body more in this moment than you do, trust that he won’t push you too far, only right to your limit before bringing you back. “It’s too much Jack!” You keen as his fingers return to rub tight circles over your clit again.

“No babygirl,” Jack finally kisses you, licks into your mouth possessively and moans just as loud for you as you do for him, breaks the kiss but hovers his lips over yours so they brush against each other when he speaks, “it’s just enough.” 

Your orgasm crashes over you just as he finishes his sentence, white hot and searing. Your hands tug hard at his salt and pepper curls as you go soundless from how hard your coming, almost holding your breath as the pleasure completely takes over. Your ability to speak suddenly comes back and you let out the most erotic moan of Jack’s name that he’s ever heard.

Your cunt clenching around him, the sharp burst of pleasured pain from how hard you tug on his hair and that moan of his name are all Jack needs. He follows you, coming with a groan of your name that’s so choked and even more gravelly than his usual voice that you think for a second it might make you come again. He keeps moving his hips somehow, fucking himself through it to try and keep the feeling from ending.

“Fucking christ,” Jack groans as his hips still, propping himself up on his elbows and panting as he looks down at you. “You okay?” You’re smiling at him, eyes completely glazed over, but you nod. He knows that right now you are. It makes him smile back at you. He takes another couple of seconds to even his breathing out before kissing your cheeks and nose and forehead and chin and then your lips to bring you back down. “You. Are. So. Fucking. Perfect.” He punctuates each word with a kiss.  

You blink at him, eyes a bit clearer. So he asks again. “Hi beautiful,” he smiles down at you amusedly, “you okay?”

You come back to yourself a little more and that’s when the trembling starts as you reconnect your mind and body enough for the dump of hormones and adrenaline to hit you, your body struggling to figure out what to do with all the pleasure. “Ohhh,” you sigh out, voice a a bit shaky, “I am so much more than okay, Jack. I’m trying to figure out what layer of the fucking stratosphere you just sent me to and how I get back down,” you laugh softly. 

Jack returns the soft laugh. “Good. Water now?” You shake your head, not ready for it yet. He gives you another kiss that you return and then lowers himself on top of you. He knows his body weight and the skin on skin helps with the trembling and reorientation. You wrap your arms around him, let one hand play in his curls while the other rubs up and down his back absentmindedly. Jack feels when you stop trembling and relax.

“You did amazing sweetheart, I’m proud of you. That was a lot.” He leans back up for another kiss and you beam at him, glowing in the warmth of his body and praise. 

“Thank you,” you murmur against his lips. A beat passes. “I really got you twice there with the ankles, once at work and once with the cologne.” 

Jack snorts a laugh and buries his face in your chest. “You really are something else, you know that?” He peers up at you and the only thing you see is a man hopelessly in love with you and not afraid to show you. 

“I do.” You nod with a smirk, almost smug about it. “But I’m your something else.” You grin at him. 

Jack laughs. In a few moments he’ll ask you if you’re okay again, pull a pair of pajama pants on, put on his prosthetic and walk around shirtless to get you water without asking and probably a snack. He’ll ask if you want a bath or shower and when you say no this time he’ll rub some of the salve you have on your ass to help soothe where he spanked you. And then after his twelve plus a few hours shift followed by fucking you out of your mind he’ll ask if you’re okay if he grabs some sleep, as if you’d ever say no and won’t be half asleep yourself from the fucking he just gave you when he asks. But for now he just agrees with you. “You’re correct sweetheart,” he nods, “you’re my something else.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hopefully it was okay?

Thank you so much for reading!! Let me know your thoughts, comments etc! Liking, replying and reblogging is so so appreciated! Requests are open and I love chatting!

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Taglist: I'm so sorry we went straight from No Man's Land to pure smut, that will be an incredible rarity here. Like this is very well likely to be the only time.

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[formulaonecrumbs]

ok, so this is my first time requesting ever so... if you could write something about younger brother lando (around 8 yo) being made fun of at school and older sisster reader comforting him (i'm talking about your older sister au ) if you don't write it it's completely fine just wanna say i really love you wrok 💗

you’re too cool for them

Lando Norris x older sister!reader

summary: lando comes home upset after being made fun of at school. reader finds him and comforts him in the way only an older sister can.

warnings: bullying mention, protective older sister energy

A/N: AHHH im glad i could be ur first request ever :) hope it lives up to wiat u expected. thank u sm, baby. i was going to make this much longer but i’ve been writing for like 4 maybe 5 hours straight WHOOPS. again thank u for the request, happy reading and i love u ❤️

༻ ❤︎︎ ༺

home film #11 (out of a gazillion)- found in a cardboard box labelled ‘memories’

(recorded: norris family home, bristol)

timestamp: 3:03 pm 11-15-2007

the clip starts mid-focus, camera pointed at the hallway, picking up footsteps—quick ones, heavy ones—and then the slam of the front door. lando rushes in, head down, backpack nearly falling off his shoulders. it’s raining outside, his socks are slightly damp, and he doesn’t even say hi.

the camera shakes as someone picks it up—adam’s voice murmurs something about “what’s got into him?” before the screen cuts to the living room.

you’re already there, curled up on the couch with a snack and a book, still in your school uniform. you barely look up until lando stomps through, dropping his bag with a thud.

“lando?” you ask.

he doesn’t answer. he just mumbles something under his breath and disappears into the hallway.

cut.

the next shot is more still. you’re holding the camcorder now, awkwardly pointing it at yourself like you’re not sure if you’re allowed to use it. the angle shifts wildly before settling just outside your bedroom.

you knock once, gently. “hey.”

no response.

“i know you’re in there.”

a sniffle.

your voice much softer now, “bean? can i come in?”

a beat. then, a quiet little “yeah.”

the video cuts again, and when it comes back, you’ve set the camera on your desk. it’s angled slightly crooked, catching you and lando sitting on your bed. he’s curled up, knees to his chest, eyes red and puffy.

“they said my teeth are weird.. that the gap is ugly,” he says quietly. “and that my voice is squeaky. and that i’m too short.”

you blink, something in your face hardening—not at him, but at the thought of whoever said it (murder is wrong murdering is wrong murder is wrong murder is wrong). “that’s stupid.”

lando shrugs, trying to act like he doesn’t care. “it’s true though.”

you shake your head. “your voice is fine. everyone’s voice is squeaky at eight. and your teeth are just your baby teeth. they’re perfect as is, sweet like dads. and being short doesn’t matter.”

“easy for you to say.”

you nudge his knee gently. “hey. i get picked on too sometimes. for different stuff. people are mean when they’re bored.”

lando doesn’t reply. just looks down again, and you reach over, pulling his hoodie hood up over his head.

“you’re cool,” you say firmly. “you’re funny, and you’re smart. you’re literally my favorite person.”

he peeks up at you.

“really?”

“yes, really. don’t tell the others.” you smile. “now do you want me to punch them or what?”

lando giggles for the first time.

“maybe.”

you wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a sideways hug. “just ignore them, alright? or tell me. i’ll handle it.”

he leans into you, sniffling again, but this time a little softer.

the video fades out just as you toss him one of your stuffed animals and say, “you’re cooler than all of them. trust me.”

fade to black.

THE END :>

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 with high maintenance s/o

A/N: Lost that ask in the void probably but this was requested by an anon 😭

Seungcheol: He’s high-key into it. He’ll really buy you five perfumes for one outfit because he knows how you love to have options. Carries your bag, memorizes your skincare steps, and pre-orders your faves before you even ask. The man lives to spoil you.

Jeonghan: Master manipulator meets diva energy; a match made in heaven. You want all the attention? He’ll give it, but he expects it back. He’s playful about it, teasing, “You’re so high-maintenance, how do I even keep up?” But he still loves being your only person. Lovesssss to buy you random things and loves how you take care of yourself.

Joshua: Smiles through it but definitely needs a manual at first lol. He adjusts quickly though. You want to look fancy for brunch? He’s coordinating his outfit. You’re picky about your drinks? He’ll memorize your order. If it makes you happy, he’s down, becaussseeeeeee, you’re his priority. He loves it that you know what you deserve and don't settle for anything less.

Jun: He actually finds you fascinating and loves you for iy. You take two hours to get ready, you'll find him watching you get ready. He’s supportive, maybe even starts copying you lmao. You want to look like royalty? Let me help you pick your crown; prime example of this behaviour.

Hoshi: In the beginning of the relationship, he was very confused but committed. “Wait… we’re late because your lashes weren’t symmetrical?” He’s learning on the job but he tries so hard. Gets overly proud when he finally gets your coffee right. Always enthusiastic: “You look like a queen!!” his queen.

Wonwoo: Ykw? Chill king with the drama [slaying] queen 💅🏻 Your energy overwhelms him a bit, but he secretly likes that you bring noise and color into his monotonous world. He’ll listen patiently to you rant about hair serum vs oil like it’s life-or-death. Buys you gifts with zero complaint [and he actually wants to buy you things you like].

Woozi: Internal screaming intensifies. You’re the opposite of his minimalist lifestyle, but he adapts because he cares. “Why do you need thirty throw pillows?” But he’ll fluff them anyway. He’ll get grumpy sometimes, but his love language is lowkey acts of service. Expect him to custom-make you a personalized closet system just because he can 🤷🏻‍♀️

Dokyeom: Thinks it’s adorable, will hype you up so much. “You’re so picky about everything… that’s so cute!!” He loves and so into pampering you and making you happy. Carries your shopping bags, takes outfit pics from every angle, and sings to you while you do your 10-step routine.

Mingyu: He’ll do your skincare with you. He’s got the patience for your outfits, the taste for your aesthetic, and he lives to treat you like royalty. “You want another lip gloss? Cool, let’s get six.” He’s your chauffeur, chef, stylist, and biggest fan. He's a loser for you fr, mark my words.

Minghao: Absolutely supports it—as long as it’s within lines. He doesn’t mind your preferences, but if it’s for show or insecurity, he’ll call it out. “If this makes you happy, I’ll support it. But don’t feel like you have to be perfect for anyone, not even me.” Will treat you with respect and spoil you in his refined, minimalist way.

Seungkwan: Overwhelmed, but will do it all anyway. You want to go to three stores for the right nail polish shade? “I—okay, let me grab my bag.” Complains like a sitcom husband, but deep down he loves being needed. Will absolutely turn into your glam team. “You want curls or waves today, baby??”

Vernon: Baffled, blinks a lot, He’s like, “You need four lip oils? What do they even do?” But he’s chill. He won’t always understand the need, but he’ll support you. Might even help you compare filters for selfies. “You like the third one? Cool, post it.”

Dino: You confuse the hell out of him at first, but he adapts. This man is willing to learn. You want luxury, so he’s reading reviews. You like constant attention? He’s there. High-maintenance doesn’t scare him, instead, it motivates him. If that’s what you need, he'll figure it out.

[marauder-misprint]

Hey! I had a Sirius x reader request where the reader is James sister and in a secret relationship with Sirius and the marauders are trying to guess who Sirius’s secret girlfriend is and Sirius is just like “you know her VERY well” and ofc James flips out when he finds out LOL

Hi! Thank you for this request! ❤︎ I love love love a good fluffy piece. Lowkey oblivious Sirius, but let's be real - when aren't boys oblivious?

Hope y'all enjoy ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

'Acceptable company'

Sirius Black x Potter!reader

3.5k words

cw: fluff, secret relationship, pining if you squint

You didn’t mean to fall for Sirius Black. It’s embarrassing, really. Predictable. Your older brother’s best friend? Of course he’s the one who makes your heart flutter. You tried to ignore it, push the feelings down so far that maybe they’d just vanish.

They did not. 

Sirius also didn’t mean to fall for you. He didn’t realize he was falling for you until he was in too deep. In his defense, when you arrived at Hogwarts and got sorted into Gryffindor, his first thought was ‘Oh, sweet, another Potter!’ 

For the first few years, you’d occasionally enter Sirius’ orbit. James would complain about how annoying you were, but Sirius never saw it. You were alright. You would give him a small smile while waiting for James to get you whatever you had requested. Sometimes you’d ask Remus for help on homework when Lily was busy; Sirius thought it was amusing that you refused to ask James for help. And until he joined the quidditch team himself, you sat with Sirius in the stands during matches and practices. You offered him your snacks and sounded like James when you spouted quidditch facts and critiqued the team’s form. Even when Sirius visited the Potter’s home during the summer months, you didn’t hang around him and James much. 

Sirius didn’t know what to do with himself when he found himself wishing you would hang around them. When he started looking for you in the stands at his quidditch games and practices. When he suddenly offered to help you with an assignment because Lily and Remus had prefect duties. When he got uncharacteristically upset when you got your first boyfriend. When he realized that he was upset because it wasn’t him. 

Luckily for Sirius, it didn’t last. Something about you not giving him enough of your time. You ranted about it in the common room. Loudly. Sirius could recall you saying, “Merlin forbid a girl has friends. And friends that I don’t have any classes with! Sorry I don’t want to eat dinner with him every evening!” James gave you your space despite his muttered threats about this boy.

That night Sirius couldn’t sleep. So he did what everyone does when they can’t sleep: he went to sit by the fire in the common room. And by chance, you were already sitting on the couch, legs tucked underneath you, as you stared into the dancing flames. 

“Am I acceptable company?” Sirius asked, standing off to the side. 

“Why wouldn’t you be?” you responded. You didn’t even look away from the fire. 

He sat down on the other side of the couch before casting a wary glance your way.

“Maybe you have a vendetta against all blokes now. Dunno.”

You gave a dry laugh. “No. Just against gits.”

“Hmm, surprised I don’t qualify for that.” Sirius would be an idiot if he didn’t know that he could use some work on himself. 

“Yeah… well… I have nothing against you.”

With your gaze set on the fire, Sirius took the opportunity to watch you. Because why had he been so happy to know that you broke up with that boy? Why had his heart skipped a beat when he saw you sitting by the fire in the deserted common room? Why did he want to smile when you said you have nothing against him? Coming to terms with how much he liked you was more difficult than he’d ever admit. 

“I can feel you staring, Sirius.”

“‘M not,” Sirius said, immediately looking at the fire.

You sighed and turned your body so you could face Sirius. He looked back at you, his body still facing forward.

“I know I’m not wrong for wanting to be my own person. I’m not a… a… a thing to be flaunted,��� you said, sounding and looking frustrated.

Sirius nodded. “Right.”

“And Sam couldn’t accept that. That’s on him. Not me.” You paused and your expression shifted. “Right?”

“Yes. Some blokes are a bit dense.”

You sighed. Then you fell forward, resting your forehead against the side of his shoulder. He gave you a slightly confused look.

“Are you alright?” You mumbled something into his shoulder. “You know I didn’t understand that.”

With a dramatic sigh, you sat up, but only to move closer to Sirius so you could rest your head on his shoulder without blocking your face. 

“Getting there. I’m getting there.”

You sat like that for a while, neither of you saying anything. When you were ready, you thanked Sirius and then went to bed. He sat there for a little bit longer before heading back up to his dorm. He wanted the moment to have lasted longer. Sitting in that easy silence with you was something else. 

For a few days, you regretted that night in the common room. Your brain was telling you that you had been too much, an annoying little sister who put Sirius in an uncomfortable position. You should’ve just let him stare and not said anything. Now that you’ve made him uncomfortable, you can tell that he’s avoiding your gaze whenever you’re near each other. Before, when you’d make eye contact with him across the room, you would exchange polite smiles. There was an acknowledgement. Not anymore. He won’t meet your eyes. 

You needed to apologize for it, tell him not to worry about you. You’d find him after quidditch practice. You would keep it casual. Because you were James’ cool, confident, easy-going little sister. Not an annoying one. 

Like usual, you watched the practice from the stands. You tried to watch all of the players equally, but you kept returning to Sirius. His flying was sloppy and he was missing easy hits. He was obviously distracted and Jame was biting his head off for it. It felt like the practice dragged on forever. But when it was done, you lingered just out of sight of the locker room door. You knew you had to ambush Sirius to get him to talk to you; the only thing that would prevent him from listening to you would be if James walked back with him. Maybe it was good that Sirius was distracted during practice – he wouldn’t want to leave with the guy who yelled at him for like ten minutes straight while on a broom. 

You listened as the door opened and closed. James left with Marlene, both ranting about how the practice wasn’t their best work. Perfect. With James gone, you waited a little closer to the door. The seeker left, followed by the other beater, the keeper and the last chaser. Sirius was the last one. You waited for about five minutes before you started getting nervous. You had to keep your wits about you. 

You opened the locker room door and knocked on it loudly, to announce your presence. 

“Sirius?” you called, looking around. 

“What?” he snapped from around the corner.

“Can we talk?”

He peeked his head around the corner, hair dripping and not wearing a shirt. 

“Potter? Shit, what are you doing in here?” he asked, his voice suddenly much nicer and almost nervous. 

“I was waiting for you,” you said. “Should I go back outside?” 

“Um, no, just give me one minute.”

You sat down on the bench in between the rows of lockers and fidgeted with your fingers. You could hear Sirius muttering to himself but the only things you could make out were swears. When he came around the corner, he was wearing pants and pulling a shirt over his head. 

“What’s up? Everything okay?” he asked, standing in front of you. 

“I, erm, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable the other night. I’m good. Fine.” You nodded with a small smile on your lips. 

Sirius furrowed his brows in confusion. “What made you think I was uncomfortable?” 

He didn’t think he had shifted at all when you had your head on his shoulder. Maybe you mistook the quiet as awkwardness, rather than the easiness he felt. 

“Oh, um, you haven’t been able to look at me?” Your throat tensed. “Kind of felt like you were avoiding me.”

Sirius nervously rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from you. “I have been avoiding you, but-” He clicked his tongue. “-not because I was uncomfortable.”

“Then why?”

“Because I was comfortable.” You tilted your head in confusion. “Too comfortable.”

“Okay?”

You weren’t getting it. Why was him being comfortable around you a bad thing? Why did it make him avoid you?

“Godric… screw it! Every time I look at you, I want to kiss you. I want to treat you how you deserve to be treated, so much better than how that git treated you. But I can’t ‘cause you’re James’ sister.” 

You stared up at him with wide eyes. Oh. You stood up, making Sirius take a step backwards. He thought you were going to slap him. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your pounding heart. 

“What if… I wanted you to kiss me?” Your heart was trying to escape out your throat. “We could just not tell James.”

“Not tell James…” he repeated. His eyes flicked between your eyes and your lips. 

You took a step toward Sirius and he didn’t take a step back. Instead, he gently took your face in his hands and kissed you. It was soft and gentle and you wasted no time in kissing him back. You were about to thread your fingers through his hair when he pulled back.

“Are you sure?” he asked breathlessly.

“Yes.”

Not telling James ended up becoming not telling anyone. It was too risky. If you told anyone, how could you guarantee that they wouldn’t tell him? 

In public, you were just James’ little sister and his best friend. Polite. Cordial. Sharing smiles and eye rolls from across the room. In the privacy of the common room late at night, when you knew his dorm would be empty, in random broom closets, in unused classrooms and the locker room after quidditch practices, you were more than friends. It was more than snogging too. He would read to you. You would bring snacks and have a makeshift picnic. You would sit next to each other, talking about your day and anything else on your mind. But yes, there was snogging. 

You were doing a good job at keeping it secret. At least, good enough. Your friends caught on pretty quickly that you had a new someone – it was the only explanation of where you were disappearing to so often and how smiley you were when you returned. Sirius was proud of himself for keeping it from James, given that they had the map. He made sure that he had it with him whenever he was meeting up with you. Remus was the only one who seemed suspicious of his keeping the map so close, but he didn’t say anything. 

But then one night after quidditch practice and a heated session with you, Sirius tied his hair up before heading up to his dorm. You had made a good habit of returning to the common room at different times after practice to prevent any rumors. So you weren’t with him to see that you had left a mark. Well, several marks along his neck. 

“Merlin’s balls, Padfoot!” Remus gasped when he walked through the door. 

“What?” Sirius asked, not looking at Remus.

“Did you get attacked by a colony of leeches?” he asked, now attempting to stifle his laughter as Sirius’ hand flew to his neck. 

He forced a laugh. “Something like that.”

“Who is it?” James asked, sitting up a little straighter on his bed. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Sirius answered.

“Hiding his latest conquest… That’s new,” Remus muttered, turning back to homework although he was smirking. 

“Yeah, since when don’t you tell us who you’re snogging?” Peter asked.

Sirius put his stuff away in his trunk and got out his own homework. “Since she asked me not to.” 

James and Peter exchanged a look that Sirius chose to ignore. He wanted them to drop the topic. If they asked him to describe the girl, it would only take so long before they put two and two together. They did drop it. For that night.

The next day, walking to class, Remus asked, “So who is it?”

“Huh?” 

“The girl giving you hickeys.”

“Told you last night. I’m not saying.”

“Ah, come on, Padfoot. It’s just me.”

Sirius shook his head. “Mate, drop it. I’m not telling you.”

“You’ve always told us who you’re with. Never had any shame in it. Why you getting all shy with it now?”

“I said drop it. She asked me not to tell you and… I like her. So I’m not going to tell you anything until she wants to.”

Sirius quickened his pace to get to class, leaving Remus behind. He watched him go with a curious expression on his face. Sirius usually bragged about who he took into broom closets, but he was being protective of this girl and that only made Remus want to know more. 

The boys badgered Sirius about his mystery girlfriend more than your friends did with you. It went on for weeks after that night with the hickeys. Whenever Sirius came back to the dorm alone, various questions were launched at him.

“Same girl?” “Any visible hickeys?” “How far you’d get?” “Where’d you snog? The greenhouses? Quidditch pitch? Back of the library?” “What’s she like?”

Sirius brushed them off every time. He wasn’t going to give them anything, but that seemed to egg them on. They were determined to find out who it was. One evening, they started asking Sirius about the girl in the common room.

“Alright, Sirius, is she a Slytherin? Is that you’re so secretive about it?” Peter asked, shoving his Potions homework away from him.

Sirius didn’t answer. 

“Is she in our year? Older? Younger?” James asked. More silence from Sirius.

“Ah, give us something,” Remus begged. “You’ve been seeing her for weeks and you’ve told us nothing!”

You entered the common room and Peter, James and Remus’ voices reached your ears. They weren’t being quiet with their interrogation of Sirius. So, naturally, you walked over to them.

“You’re being loud,” you said matter-of-factly. 

“We have reason,” James said with an eye roll. 

“And that reason is…”

He sighed. “Sirius here has been seeing this girl for weeks and he won’t tell us who it is. He won’t even describe her.”

You smirked and turned toward Sirius, who was already looking at you with a rehearsed neutral look on his face. 

“Aw, that’s kind of cute. But come on, Sirius. It’s just the boys,” you said, gesturing to them. “Give ‘em something to get them off your back.”

Sirius swallowed thickly. You had just given him permission to say something. He tried to cover his shock with an exaggerated sigh.

“Fine.” He looked around the group, trying to figure out what to say. “Ah, got it. You lot know her very well.”

“Oh, that narrows it down,” you laughed, turning to leave the group, but you didn’t go far. You picked a spot on the couch nearby and took out your Charms book. You wanted to eavesdrop. 

“That’s rubbish!” Peter exclaimed. “We know a lot of people!”

“It’s not rubbish,” Sirius defended with crossed arms. “I just eliminated practically all of the Slytherins.”

“And a fair amount of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs,” Remus added. James and Peter gave him stern looks. “What? He said we know her very well. We know eagles and badgers, but I wouldn’t say we know them all that well.”

“So she’s a Gryffindor?” James asked, turning his attention back to Sirius.

He gave him no answer. Not even a facial expression. 

“I think we can assume that much,” Remus said. “And it’s certainly not Lily. I know that much.”

“How?” James asked. 

“Been studying with her when Padfoot returns from his rendezvous.”

“She can’t be more than a year on either side of us,” Peter said. “Younger they get, the more scared of us they are.”

“Valid,” James said with a solemn nod.

Sirius just rolled his eyes. He didn’t know if he could relax, but he needed to have a relaxed air about him. He stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned backwards, supporting himself with straight arms. 

“Right, so that leaves us with what, twelve girls? We can narrow it down,” James said after mentally counting the girls in their year, the year above and year below. “We’ve already checked off Lily and we can check off my sister and Marlene.”

You hid behind your book so the boys couldn’t see your smile if they looked over at you. James dismissed you as an option right off the bat. They would never get it right at this rate. 

“Cross off anyone he’s already been with. There’d be no point hiding it from us if they’ve done it before,” Remus said, waving a hand at James.

Sirius snuck a worried glance your way. He thought his hint was clever, but his friends were going to run through the girls quickly. And once they did, they’d have to go back over the list. There was no telling if they’d come to the conclusion that it was you. You flexed your eyebrows. He needed to turn back around.

You found it amusing as the boys tossed around names and found each one not feeling right. Sirius looked more or less mortified. He lost his relaxed air when he looked at you and couldn’t get it back. It was only getting worse as they moved on from girl to girl and then started renaming girls.

“We’ve listed everyone,” Peter said, sounding defeated. “Are we sure that he didn’t fall into the lake and is just too proud to tell us?”��

“Why would he be by the lake after quidditch practice?” James sighed. 

Something about what James said made something click in Remus’ head. After quidditch practice. He looked at you, at first with wide eyes of realization and then the wicked smirk of someone about to unleash hell.

“I know who it is,” Remus said firmly, not looking away from you.

All three boys looked at Remus, and then they followed his gaze to you. Sirius went pale. James turned red. And Peter laughed. 

“Oh, that’s rich.”

“We do know her quite well,” Remus said. 

“Padfoot,” James growled. “For the love of Merlin, tell me that Remus is wrong.”

You looked up slowly. You knew they were looking at you. You heard it go down. 

“I can’t,” Sirius said in a small voice. 

“At least he had a good reason for not telling us,” Peter said between fits of laughter.

“Yeah, Wormtail? What’s his reason?” Remus asked, clearly enjoying the building tension between James and Sirius.

“He loves his life. Because Prongs is going to murder him.”

“My bloody sister? You are mental?” James yelled, jumping up.

Sirius immediately mirrored him. “Maybe, yeah.”

James turned on you. “You! What do you have to say about this?” 

You hummed and flipped a page in your book, as if you were disinterested in their conversation, as if it didn’t completely concern you. 

“What the others say is true: he’s good at snogging.” 

Sirius broke into a stupid smile because that answer was so you. A little bit of sass to your brother. It was also a compliment to him. James, however, did not like that answer as he turned a darker shade of red. 

“I… argh! That’s my little sister!” James shouted at Sirius, and then turning back to you, “My goddamn best friend? Could you have chosen anyone else?”

Still feeling unbothered, you leaned forward and looked at Remus. “Remus is kind of cute.”

“Oi!” Sirius said. 

“I said kind of!”

“Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!” James roared.

He glared at you and then at Sirius before storming off to their dorm. You broke into your fit of laughter when he started up the stairs. 

“I think he took that well.”

“So, you’re really… together?” Remus asked, watching Sirius run a hand down his face as he stared at the stairs James disappeared up.

You nodded. “When you’d figure out Sirius was seeing someone?”

“Few weeks ago. You left a mark.”

You tilted your head in slight confusion. You left marks on Sirius before only a few weeks ago.

“Oh, he put his hair up.”

“Ah,” you said. Then you looked at Sirius. “He’ll get over it. Let him cool down and come to terms with it. You’ll be fine.”

“He’s pretty pissed,” Sirius said, voice low. 

“For now. He’ll get over it.”

“He’s pissed at me.”

“Mate, relax. She’s right. He blows up, but he always cools down,” Remus said.

“Yeah… right…” Sirius muttered before collapsing on the couch next to you. “At least I can kiss you in public now.”

“That’s what you’re excited about? I can’t wait to go on a real date-date with you.”

“Oh, gross… Maybe they should’ve kept it a secret,” Peter said to Remus.

tags: @navs-bhat, @bruxa0007

[leonarecs]

we’re back for part two 🤭 i’m scared but excited because i know they are finally gonna FUCK n i’m very happy about that LMFAOOO, now let’s begin 👀

His absence leaves a heavy weight of guilt that presses hard onto your shoulders, regardless that he had been the one to mostly start the fight. What had you really even done wrong? 

absolutely NOTHING queen, do not feel guilt!!!!! he’s being an ass <3 (sigh i kinda feel bad too i have too much of a soft spot for this man)

Despite his elusion you still see him, amongst your shared classes, the late nights in the common room or when passing in the halls.

this when they’re usually attached at the hip omg it hurts to imagine it MY BABIES

He decides it’s not worth getting involved now that Mattheo’s made his intentions clear. He wants nothing to do with it.

oh, so i’m not worth fighting for 😔✋ i see how it is, what a pussy. of course you’re scared of mattheo 🙄 (it’s okay at least we’ll have scary bf privileges soon)

He had just suddenly been everywhere, like a convenient beacon.

the ‘do you really like him or is he just giving you the attention you’ve been so desperately craving from someone else’ trope is inescapable and i love it

For the way you felt under Mattheo’s spotlight was divergent. He made you feel special, your heart beating to a different rhythm for him. Being with Mattheo was like watching a sunrise for the first time, the shades of orange and pink peeking up after you both stayed up all night stargazing. It made you feel alive. He made you feel alive. Made you feel electric with life and like you could conquer anything with him by your side. 

I’M FUCKING SCREAMING OVER THIS??? THE DESCRIPTION OF HER LOVE??? THE WAY HIS ATTENTION IS DIFFERENT FROM EVERYONE ELSE IN THE WORLD?? i’m sobbing. this captures that overwhelming feeling of being seen by someone you care about so perfectly. also the way you went from “it made you feel alive” to “he made you feel alive” to drive it home FUCK it hits so hard. it’s like you can feel her heart waking up for him. i’m actually going to cry over this.

It wasn't his fault he was deeply flawed, but it was your choice to be the one to see him past those sharp thorns. To help bloom the roses that laid trapped underneath the rumble, bring them to light in the same way as how you saw him.

again, no words to describe how i feel, so:

“I'm not oblivious like you two are, besides I don't really want a repeat of my last relationship.” 

poor guy can’t catch a break from all the girls that have secretly been in love with another boy since they were kids

“Not entirely sure what you see in the nutter, but knowing what kind of girl you are, it must be something good.”

AWWW OKAY THAT WAS SWEET I’M GIGGLING

A week without you had been to put nicely, hell for him. He had wallowed entirely, sulking like a pathetic child, like his favourite candy had been ripped from his clutches. He realized quickly that this was worse, that having your attention shared, not having your presence at all, had turned him into a dreary grump.

the way he completely falls apart without her in his life, HE’S SO IN LOVEEEE Y/N OPEN YOUR EYES

He missed you in his arms. He missed the gentle way you would soothe him to sleep. With warm caresses that resembled a mother’s touch, but with you it felt more intimate.

i genuinely believe you’re trying to kill me right now. my heart is literally unraveling with every word i read, mother, why must you be so cruel 😖 him falling asleep in her arms only will never fail to fucking destroy me. and they still wanna talk about some “best friends” bullshit bro, stfu

Clearing your throat of nerves, you speak directly to the point. “I didn’t mean it.” Mattheo's stubbornness had always been a persistent habit, one of his shortcomings that meant you knew it was unlikely he'd apologize first. Especially considering he can’t even look at you. 

the fact that she just knew where he’d be. without even having to ask anyone, they really know each other better than anyone else in the world UGHHH 😓😓😓 also idc if he’s stubborn, he should be apologizing FIRST tf ✋

“I’m sorry, I.. I- you.. are wanted. Always, Mattheo.”  “But not in the right way.”

oh god i literally cannot breathe right now

“It's fine, Ace. You’re forgiven. We’re still friends, alright.” 

bitch. don’t you have something else to say. and what the FAWK do you mean ‘friends.’

He fights the part of him wanting to swallow his pride and spit out an apology, but he’d never been good at those. That would mean he’d have to explain the reasoning and vulnerable depth, years' worth of trauma that built a viscous insecurity he’d never shared with anyone, not even you. He didn’t feel exactly spritely about indulging you just because you were upset that he hit Dean.

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it once again, the way you characterize him is fucking spot on. you can feel how stubborn and defensive he is without it ever outright saying “he’s stubborn” — it’s all in the why. the way you tied his pride to this deep, unspoken insecurity?? it makes him so much more human. he’s not just being difficult to be difficult, he’s protecting these old wounds he doesn’t even know how to show. i’m losing it over how layered this makes him.

“For what? You’re the one that called me unwanted.” 

NO I DIDN’T, STOP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH.

“I said I was sorry.” The words whisper with the tone of desolation. Despite your anger, the guilt and worry break the barrier through the emotions you wear on your sleeves, knowing you never wished to hurt him. 

THE POOR GIRL MY HEART HURTS SO BAD RIGHT NOW it wasn’t her fault 😭 

He steps without hesitation; coming closer, wrapping you up into his arms, a much needed hug for the both of you. He aches, feeling you reciprocate, gently hugging him back, and he holds you a little tighter, having missed your touch.

the hug oh my god i have real tears streaming down my face right now, the history and emotion between these two is too much for me to handle

The small sounds of your sniffles smothering into his chest vibrate through to his heart painfully, like an earthquake causing destruction to his protective walls.

more metaphors that i adore and have to highlight thank you very much

He turns glaring at you. “Let’s just go inside, Ace! It’s fucking thundering!” 

it’s so intense right now, i’m literally buzzing with anxiety goodnight. this whole scene is playing out like a movie in my head the dialogue is SO GOOD.

He's ignoring how his mind is screaming to just tell you the truth, to finally bare his heart and soul to you, but the fear of rejection has him by the throat.

yeah.

“Tell me- god please Mattheo, I swear if this friendship means anything to you! You’ll fucking tell me.” The doubt creeps back in; Dean was wrong. He doesn’t see you the same. 

i’m fucking screaming JUST TELL HER THE TRUTH YOU’RE DOING NOTHING BUT FEEDING HER DOUBTS RIGHT NOW PLEASEEEE MY HEART CAN’T TAKE MORE OF THIS ARGUMENT, he’s just letting her believe that he doesn’t give a shit whether she’s in his life or not 😞

“because you’re the best thing in my life! And yet I'm just scum on the bottom of your shoe.. And that motherfucker was right and I hate him for it, because I-i-I don't deserve you!.. Not your kindness… or attention… or friendship, and yet I'm still greedy. I still want more!”

ASAHSEDHAEGDFFYGACHUNˆSHDGFHDGFUHERIFJIENDXKJEWBDXJERBGCHJHIÇ≈≈XEFUHGVUFHDGU OH MY GODIFHJDG

i’m sorry. i cannot fucking breathe right now, there’s so much i want to say. the angry confession. the stuttering. the “i’m still greedy.” FUCKING HELLLLLL, when they think they’re not worthy but still can still admit that they want more, i can’t DO THIS ANYMORE

“B-because- because I fucking love you, you idiot!” 

can’t even turn on all-caps, i’m too busy trying to hit the right letters through my tears

You're shut up by the pleasant surprise of his lips smashing onto yours, with an effort of urgency urged behind the feel of his soft lips. His hands move to cup your face, your soaked face, the warmth of them rising a blush to your cheeks, as he holds them with tenderness. He kisses you with all the love he has, willing to give you every beat of his heart. He knows you already have it. It's always been yours. 

the last line i—

“Actually?” He smiles in reassurance and hope glosses over his eyes. His chest vibrates as he chokes out a disbelieving laugh and his grin broadens. "You-u lo-” He can't even finish the sentence so choked up by all of this.  A smile graces your face with wide, full cheeks that burn with happiness and you reciprocate his choked upness, feeling the tears start again. The way your head nods ridiculously fast, flicking your drenched hair in all directions, makes him chuckle and he cups your cheeks for fear of it flying off. “Not fucking with me are you now Ace, cuz I swear to god if you-”  Leaning forwards you capture his lips effortlessly, now being the one to shut him up.

this whole sequence has me actually laughing and smiling through tears WHO AM I????? g, you’re so unbelievably talented, the feelings are feeling really hard right now and i need a nap despite the fact that i slept for 15 hours last night

His arm guides you wrapping around your waist, a stark contrast to the way his arm usually drapes over your shoulder casually.

THIS DIFFERENCE BEING POINTED OUT AAAAHHHHH i’m literally bursting with happiness rn. also him not being able to handle seeing her cry even when its happy tears, fuck just let me fall to the floor real quick

His gaze drops and his eyes darken shamelessly, admiring how your shirt clings to your body, accentuating your chest. He licks his lips, letting his thoughts run wild for once with no guilt, and stops what he was doing walking closer. His hands graze your waist, letting you know of his proximity as he speaks with a low husk in his tone. “Lemme help Ace.” 

I’M LITERALLY TREMBLING OMGOMGOMG HE’S SUCH A PERV LMFAOOOO WE’RE GETTING SOMEWHERE I’M SO EXCITED

His head dips, brushing his lips back against yours, and he whispers with the weight of a man ready to feast on his deepest desires. “Ace..you know I want you… don't you?” He’s so close that when he licks his lips, his tongue grazes your lower lip with the subtlest of touches and he relishes in the sucking in of your breath.

the way i’m holding my breath right now fucking hell, my choochie quaking i can’t even lie to you

Mattheo might be oblivious to love, but he’s a keen observer in the act of sexual intimacy. It’s as if his eyes are an x-ray lust detector. He knows all the tells of an aroused woman. “So pretty Ace, fuck..you’re making me want to kiss you senseless.”

“Fuck, you look so sexy when you bite that.” 

the way he thought this in part one as well and now he’s actually able to voice his thoughts ajdghfgff i’ll never get over mattheo calling us sexy 

He grabs your wrists, gently kissing both of them before he pins them above your head, shocking a gasp out of you. He grins, satisfied by your reaction as he shifts, sliding his hands upwards, intertwining your fingers together in an intimate hand hold. 

my first reaction while reading this: oh my god, kissing her wrists is the sweetest fucking thing i’ve ever read. second reaction: HE DID WHAT OMG I CAN’T STOP SCREAMING. third reaction: HAND HOLDING MY FUCKING FAVORITE MY HEART IS MALFUNCTIONING 

He shifts, rolling onto his side, allowing your hand to slip inside his pants and wrap around his cock. He can’t help but buck his hips into your palm at the feel of your hand making contact. “Fuck-Ace.” His eyes droop, looking at you shifting onto your side too, your tits squishing together in the constraints of your bra, his mouth gaping letting out a hitched shaky breath. 

Couldn’t even edge to this, I exploded immediately!!! Clean up on aisle MY PANTS 😂😂😂😂 (i’m sorry.)

“Soakin Ace. You've been this wet the whole time?” 

YES OBVIOUSLY OH MY GOD

“Yeah, you want another? Want me to stretch you out…wanna be ready for me, don’t you, Ace?” 

He gives his fingers a quick lick, not wanting to waste a single drop of you, watching focused how you shuffle out of your panties. 

OH MY GODDDJSGEWFHG WHAT IS THIS FEROCITY THAT YOU’VE EVOKED IN ME RIGHT NOW I’M BARKING

Wandering his gaze at your movements, he watches frozen, disbelieving the vision before him. Sitting up onto your elbows, you unclip your bra, freeing your tits and exposing yourself fully. His pants sit halfway down his legs, his jaw tensing, eyes gazing with enamour at your bare body. He blinks again, swearing this has to be one very good sex dream. 

MY FEELINGS CANNOT EVEN BE VOCALIZED RIGHT NOW I DIED DEAD RIP ME THE WAY HE FROZE GOODBYEEEEE

“God, I love your laugh.. gonna make me cum right now.” Your laugh grows in ecstatic shock at his vulgar words. “Mattheo!” “Oh yeah, look at you practicing screaming already.”

THE GIGGLE THAT THIS TORE OUT OF ME SHOULD BE STUDIED BECAUSE I SWEAR I’VE NEVER MADE THIS SOUND BEFORE

“Tell me really, am I bigger?” 

I’M FUCKING CRYING LMFAOOOO HE’S SO ANNOYING

But then you smile and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and whisper an adorable, “Hi.”

AAAAAAAHHHH ITS GIVING “Hi, Johnny.” “Hi, Shannon.” SQUEALING ESPECIALLY WITH THE TITLE TOO AHHHH

“I want your eyes on me the whole time, ok Ace.” 

whatever you say, daddy— i mean what hahahhahahah

He flickers his eyes back and forth from how his cock slides between your folds captivatingly and up to your pretty blessed out face. Your mouth gaping as streams of whiney moans flows out, your head thrown back in ecstasy. “Fuck, I don't know where to look baby…look so good taking me.”

“s'good..the best ace. I could live in your pussy, just fall asleep and never wake up.”

it’s all over the screen 💔💔💔🥀🥀🥀

The notion that you'll both be alright, swaddled in the new cocoon of your relationship, both finally receiving the love you deserve together.

this is such a beautiful way to end it i’m sobbing

speaking so truthfully when i say that this wasn’t just a fic; this was a fucking experience. i felt like i was watching a movie in theaters and i didn’t even realize how long this was (18k words together i think?!?!) because it flowed so well and the dialogue never left a single moment where i wasn’t hooked. this, in its entirety, was so unbelievably well written—the dialogue, the metaphors, the story, descriptions and imagery, the way you weaved in their backstory and their tie to each other. i hate that it’s taken me so long to read it fully without distractions, but you truly exceeded all expectations. like i know deep in my heart that, from now on, every time i think about a best friends-to-lovers trope with him, my mind is instantly going to go to mattheo and ace because they’ve just set the bar for this whole trope. the yearning, the slow burn, the hesitance for both sides to finally admit their feelings, the fear of rejection — it’s all put together so perfectly. the emotion is so real and raw and powerful, i felt everything like it was actually happening to me. this might (definitely) be my favorite writing i’ve ever read from you. you’re fucking phenomenal b, literally never stop writing!!! (and never leave this fandom, i won’t survive without you!!!)

i honestly don’t even know how i’m to move on from this. someone come pick me up off the floor because i need mattheo and ace forever and ever (i know you posted something else of them and i’m excited to read but like fuck i just need an 8 book series of them because i’m not ready to let go)

[S]he will be loved ~ part two

Sum Reader is hopefully and madly in love with her best friend, constantly having her heart broken living in the shadows of other girls. Unaware that he’s hiding a secret, unable to express the truth about how he feels for her too.

Warn: NSFW18+, angst, yelling, swearing, PIV, fingering, semi handjob, dirty talk, (the smut is a little vanilla for the sake of being romantic), use of Ace as a nickname, y/n occasionally, Dramatic asf fr, maybe too dragged-out argument lmfao. Wc: 9.4k An: thank you for being so patience! It is suggested you read part one if you haven't, once again I went a bit in circles with this and so now will run away nervous as hell! but hope you all enjoy! Dividers from here & here

He makes good on his promise, avoiding you for the rest of the weekend and into the next week. His absence leaves a heavy weight of guilt that presses hard onto your shoulders, regardless that he had been the one to mostly start the fight. What had you really even done wrong? 

Despite his elusion you still see him, amongst your shared classes, the late nights in the common room or when passing in the halls. His head locked straight ahead, as if the wall is the most interesting thing, and if his gaze weakens and he nips a glance at you, it holds no kindness. The icy water drenches your bones again and makes you question your memory, and how badly you’ve hurt him. 

Dean keeps his distance as well, despite being unaware of your fight with Mattheo, the damage by him is more than physical and Dean wishes to keep far from the drama tempting to unravel. He decides it’s not worth getting involved now that Mattheo’s made his intentions clear. He wants nothing to do with it. His distance doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and you can’t help wondering how you’ve managed to drag him into an unnecessary mess. 

Had you, in spite, subconsciously used Dean to get a reaction from Mattheo? Were you challenging the bounds of your friendship? It wasn’t like you had planned to even consider Dean an option. He had just suddenly been everywhere, like a convenient beacon. It hadn’t been hard to get along, with his contagious energy and charming personality, he had easily cleared the thick aged brain fog once completely consumed by Mattheo.

Clouds slide inwards, covering the heat of the sun, and casting downward shade along the cobblestones, making you plan to head back inside soon. You sit under the shelter of a tree in the viaduct courtyard pondering the inner turmoil. Feeling conflicted, you sigh, weighing up the differences between them. 

Dean, a kind and warm spirit who opened his arms to you instantly, making you feel needed and welcome. So ready to listen, and match your energy to his own passions. But there was always something missing. It all felt very surface level, and maybe that was because it was new. Or maybe he just gave you what you were yearning so desperately for. Attention. 

But it wasn’t the right type you craved. For the way you felt under Mattheo’s spotlight was divergent. He made you feel special, your heart beating to a different rhythm for him. Being with Mattheo was like watching a sunrise for the first time, the shades of orange and pink peeking up after you both stayed up all night stargazing. It made you feel alive. He made you feel alive. Made you feel electric with life and like you could conquer anything with him by your side. 

Maybe you ought to give Mattheo some credit, for he his life had always left him complicated. 

You, of all people, know the traumatic strain his upbringing had scared him, continuing into his current life. There is no escaping the forceful path his life has been shunted down, his hands bound. It wasn't his fault he was deeply flawed, but it was your choice to be the one to see him past those sharp thorns. To help bloom the roses that laid trapped underneath the rumble, bring them to light in the same way as how you saw him.

You sit up suddenly, spotting Dean crossing the courtyard with his friends, and jump at the chance to make amends with him. “Dean!” 

His head whips around and he stops walking, allowing you to approach. His smile is less, but not unwelcoming. “Hey Y/n.”

You eye his friends awkwardly till they call out for Dean to catch up and continue walking. You shuffle between your feet, feeling nervous about starting the conversation. “Hi- I.. I just wanted to apologise. I’m really sorry about what happened last weekend.” 

Dean is quick to shake his head, respectfully dismissing your apology. “It’s fine, you don’t have to apologize, y/n. I hold no grudges towards you - besides, my nose has healed up all fine.” 

You wince at his little joke, adding, “It's not just on behalf of Mattheo, I want to for myself too.”

“Oh?”

“I’m worried. I led you on.. Though I swear it was completely unintentional..”

Dean nods his head firmly and grabs your shoulders to calm your rambling. He already understands and offers you one of his kind smiles you had grown to miss. “It’s really alright. I kind of figured that out already.. And I definitely don’t wanna meddle in the middle of your situation with Riddle.” 

“Figured out?”

His eyes crinkle and shoulders shake as he laughs at your oblivious confusion. “I'm not oblivious like you two are, besides I don't really want a repeat of my last relationship.” 

You nod, not quite understanding what he means by oblivious, but feeling the recurring wave of guilt hit for misleading Dean and so you just give him an appreciative smile. Your heart remains heavy despite Dean’s forgiveness. “I’m sorry again, anyway.” 

He shakes his head, dropping his hands from your shoulders, “It’s fine y/n. Maybe catch ya with Eli sometime. But good luck with everything, yeah. Not entirely sure what you see in the nutter, but knowing what kind of girl you are, it must be something good.”

While Dean retreats, catching back up with his mates, you stay eyes locked on where he last stood in a daze of thought. Must be something good. That’s always what you’ve seen in Mattheo, aware that it’s the defining string between your relationship. The knot that continued to tighten throughout your years at Hogwarts, strengthening with every moment of trust and kindness you shared with him. 

For once you bite the trepidation and unknown awaiting, the thought illuminating and making the lightbulb brighter. Hoping maybe Mattheo’s reactions to Dean were rather explainable, and burying the one doubtful tic questioning if this was his usual protective self or merging into something new. 

With newfound determination, you set off to find Mattheo, choosing to believe in the bright possibility that this territory was Mattheo awaiting under the rainbow of your deepest fantasies with a mutual feeling. 

A week without you had been to put nicely, hell for him. He had wallowed entirely, sulking like a pathetic child, like his favourite candy had been ripped from his clutches. He realized quickly that this was worse, that having your attention shared, not having your presence at all, had turned him into a dreary grump. His mood was not subtle in the slightest, every emotion of agonized resentment shadowed his face in a deep scowl. 

He was mad at you for how you defended that prat so easily, without stopping to question his intentions. But then again, he’d never openly admitted that Dean’s words had gutted him, mentioning his biggest insecurity. Not being worthy of you. Of your attention, your kindness, your laughter, your warmth, and last, your love. It had eaten away at him all week. 

He’d hardly slept, which was saying something for he rarely could. He knew he was undeserving, and yet if there was anyone he wanted to prove his worth to, it was you. 

He continued to watch the lull of the black lake from within the Boathouse, a quiet spot for his thoughts to wrestle in the ring with one another. He missed you in his arms. He missed the gentle way you would soothe him to sleep. With warm caresses that resembled a mother’s touch, but with you it felt more intimate. His cigarette burned, allowing small moments of relief to flow through his lungs, the inhale of nicotine calming his distressed heart. 

He hears the footsteps of someone entering the wooden house and peers over his shoulder, assuming it was someone who knew he came here. Seeing its you, he turns back to look at the water, exhaling another deep breath, his heart exhilarating just by your presence. He suddenly feels clammy, wishing to douse himself in the cold water just to calm his nerves. 

His shoulders square tensely as you near, and you continue with caution, uncertain how to proceed. Everyone knows the extent of Mattheo’s temper, and thankfully you’ve never found yourself on the other end. 

Your earlier bottomless energy and hopeful determination seems to have found a sudden end, diminishing like his smoke does into the afternoon sky. Being around Mattheo again makes the doubt seep back inwards, wondering if Dean had been imagining something between the two of you. 

Clearing your throat of nerves, you speak directly to the point. “I didn’t mean it.” Mattheo's stubbornness had always been a persistent habit, one of his shortcomings that meant you knew it was unlikely he'd apologize first. Especially considering he can’t even look at you. 

He stays quiet, listening actively. He doesn’t like where this is going, despite aching to make up with you, having never fought with you like this before. He’s aware this is leading to an unstable vulnerability, and he’s not sure he can hold on to the part of him that despises being soft.

“I’m sorry, I.. I- you.. are wanted. Always, Mattheo.” 

He flinches at the use of his full name. Coming from your lips, it sounds so sweet and remorseful. He knows you’re being sincere. He can hear it in your voice and somehow it makes it harder for him to admit his own wrongdoings. “But not in the right way.” He mutters mostly to himself, exhaling the last of his cigarette. 

Frowning, not catching his mumbled whisper, you take another step bravely and stand beside him, finally capturing a glimpse at his face. It holds no clear emotion of how he’s truly feeling, constrained by the mask he wears protectively. Eyes locked dead on the smoothness of the water, the clouds darkening out above the lake and the surface breaks as raindrops ripple, gently dropping onto it. Even in his blank expression, he still looks gorgeous, making the butterflies flutter. 

He sighs, knowing you’re giving him a look to explain, for an answer, anything as he keeps his lips pressed into a thin line. His jaw clenches desperately trying to avoid glancing at you, for he’s well aware that with just one look, he'd crumble. 

He stabs the end of his cigarette out on the wooden panels, discarding it into the previous piles of used up ones. “It's fine, Ace. You’re forgiven. We’re still friends, alright.” 

Even as he says the words, he curses himself for leaving your relationship there, when he so wants to take the conversation somewhere else. Somewhere further, where he can express himself to you fully, but he’s afraid. He turns towards the exit. “It's late, and it's starting to rain. Let's head back up.” 

You stand frozen, reflecting over his words, “wait - what? I’m forgiven?!” 

“Yes, that's what I said. Isn’t that why you came here?” He pushes through the door, feeling the beginning of the downpour hitting his skin, quickening his pace, not checking to see if you’re following.  

You trail behind him in disbelief, appalled by his audacity. You knew he was stubborn, but not to this extent. “Yes, but-what about yours? Don’t you think I deserve one too?!”

He hears the pain and confusion in your tone and curses himself. He fights the part of him wanting to swallow his pride and spit out an apology, but he’d never been good at those. That would mean he’d have to explain the reasoning and vulnerable depth, years' worth of trauma that built a viscous insecurity he’d never shared with anyone, not even you. He didn’t feel exactly spritely about indulging you just because you were upset that he hit Dean.

“For what? You’re the one that called me unwanted.” 

He knows it's a hard blow as soon as the words leave his lips. But he refuses to change something about himself he knows will only make him weak. Showing that kind of vulnerability and transparency to you is not something he can afford in his life. He can't stand to see your view of him change. To see him fragile, the hidden boy behind the hard exterior. Even if you end up hating him, he’d go to the grave protecting that piece of him, even from himself. 

He keeps walking, not noticing that you’ve come to a stand stall, frozen in shock from his jab. His words make your heart ache. It's clear he still holds a grudge over the words you said. You had never meant it like that. It wasn’t that he was unwanted, but his overwhelming protectiveness that ultimately made you feel like he was in control of you, and you had always put up with it. 

Never once had you allowed yourself to be selfish and actually enjoy the potential opportunity of romance. Until now, and yet he still continues to act cold, pushing you away. 

The rain pours harder, soaking your clothes through to the bone, and you wish for it to absorb you completely. Mattheo finally notices the quieting of your pestering and turns to see you just standing there with an unreadable stare. His brows knit with concern, his earlier irritation washing away, and he blinks through the rain, feeling a wave of guilt.

“Ace.” He descends back down the stairs with a fasten pace, “Fuck- Don’t just stand there, merlin it's pouring.”

Your arms wrap around your body to provide any warmth physically and to your heart, lifting your head heavily as he approaches. “I said I was sorry.” The words whisper with the tone of desolation. Despite your anger, the guilt and worry break the barrier through the emotions you wear on your sleeves, knowing you never wished to hurt him. 

He sighs with realization, his habit of self protection had only projected an icy blast at you and messed with your head. He steps without hesitation; coming closer, wrapping you up into his arms, a much needed hug for the both of you. He aches, feeling you reciprocate, gently hugging him back, and he holds you a little tighter, having missed your touch. The way your hands grip with need the longer the two of you stay embraced, and your head snuggles into his chest. 

It's one of his favourite positions, his chin aligned with the crown of your head so perfectly. The way he feels ten times lighter now that you’re in his arms, and his eyes close, finally taking a breath of clean air. He gets lost in the moment, grateful for how you’re able to calm him so quickly. How you can take away all his anger at the snap of fingers, all his stress, all his pain even if momentarily just from the mere warmth of your touch. 

His peaceful tranquillity breaks by the shakes of your body, and he’s reminded that he is the one to have hurt you. The small sounds of your sniffles smothering into his chest vibrate through to his heart painfully, like an earthquake causing destruction to his protective walls.

Cold water continues to splatter, coating the wet clothes that cling to your bodies, the only warmth radiating from your chests pressed together as one. He rubs your back soothingly, allowing you to express his feelings in the only way he knows how to offer comfort. 

He opens his eyes, looking up at the thick darkness of the night; blinking back the rain that has no effort to cease. He can’t fully determine whether your body is still shaking from sadness or the cold. He sighs deeply, looking down at you, offering a smiling feeling as if things will calm back to normal at any moment. “Come on, we should get inside.” 

You shake your head stubbornly, not wanting the conversation to end here, and pull back with a deep frown. His smile does little to ease the pain and, in fact, bothers you at how nonchalant he’s acting. “No. it’s just a little rain, and it’s not hurting me nearly enough as your absence of an explanation.” 

He studies the wedge of separation you stick between the two of you, the reigniting of infuriated energy charging him like an electric circuit. Why won't you just drop this? He doesn’t answer you, his head turning, looking out over the castle grounds, afraid that if he opens his mouth, he’ll snap at you or, worse, reveal something vulnerable. 

You press onwards despite the tensing in his jaw, annoyed that he ignores you. “Don’t you trust me? Why can't you tell me the real reason? I just need to know why you hit Dean?”

“Please, just drop it Ace.” He grits out, trying to keep from raising his voice. His body still turned; his mind buzzing, humming with anxiety.

The lingering anger swarms to the surface at his refusal to even look at you, “I’ve been here for you through thick and thin and you can't even tell me this one simple thing?!” 

The clouds boom before a thicker onslaught of water spits down harder on the concrete steps, making it harder for him to hear you. Cowardly, he’s hoping if he ignores the issue, it will go away. But he knows you, and the determination you’re expressing only makes you stubborn like a mule, knowing you won't drop it till you’re satisfied with an answer. 

He turns glaring at you. “Let’s just go inside, Ace! It’s fucking thundering!” 

Apprehensively, you pause at his loud tone, knowing he’s beyond pissed. But the urgency for the truth pushes you onwards into your questioning, with your heart thinly stretched on the line. 

“I can't! I need to know!”  

He groans, “Why?! Can’t you just believe me and drop it? Like I already told you that shithead deserved what he g-”

“No! That's not good enough. I need more, a proper explanation Mattheo… and if you can’t tell me why.. I-I'll-”

“You’ll what?!” He snaps with an offensive scornful tone, so bitter he can taste the metal on his tongue for the attitude he’s giving. He blinks the water out of his eyes, shaking his wet hair that hangs soaked to his forehead. “You’ll leave?” 

He's ignoring how his mind is screaming to just tell you the truth, to finally bare his heart and soul to you, but the fear of rejection has him by the throat. At this point, though, he’s afraid it won't matter what he does. The outcome is hanging dangerously, that he might lose you either way. 

You swallow your turn not to say anything. You hadn’t wanted to actually say it, because it wasn't true. You didn’t want to leave, but you were feeling frustrated, hurt, betrayed. 

He continues walking closer with intense energy, the darkness of the atmosphere making him look intimidating than ever. “Gonna walk away? Had too much of me finally, huh!” 

His voice raises and you force yourself to hold still and not move from your spot, even when he gets right up in your face. You noticed the clear strain behind his words, and there's a flash of something more in his eyes other than anger, pain. 

“Please Matty-y just tell-” you whisper pleadingly. 

“Don’t. Don’t do that.. Stop looking at me like that.” He breathes out, hissing with venom and agony. 

“Like what?” Uttering the question feels risky, as if the answer will hold all the truth to how he feels. His face twists and turns as your mind spins with anxiety. This is it. 

“Just,” He groans with frustration, his voice raising again. “Like that! Fuck. Ace.” The lump in his throat grows, making him uncomfortable and his fists shake, clenching them to control the unravelling pressure.  

You blink back the swelling tears and take a braver step closer, “Tell me- god please Mattheo, I swear if this friendship means anything to you! You’ll fucking tell me.” The doubt creeps back in; Dean was wrong. He doesn’t see you the same. 

He’s cracking under the pressure and intensity of your gaze, seeing the fire burning like an inferno. There's no longer the usual glowing light he loves. How you stare at him like his answer will make all the difference to how you feel about him. But it's the way you mention your friendship with him that ultimately makes him combust, spilling his deepest, most impenetrable secret. 

“Because when you look at me like that, it makes me feel unworthy!” He spits, not pausing to even let you process the emotions coming out of him. “Like I’m breaking you apart from the inside and i-I can't handle that. I can't handle seeing you cry…or even when you look at me in anger. It makes me feel like a piece of shit for who I am.” 

His arms are up and his hands stress tangle through the wet locks in distress, “because you’re the best thing in my life! And yet I'm just scum on the bottom of your shoe.. And that motherfucker was right and I hate him for it, because I-i-I don't deserve you!.. Not your kindness… or attention… or friendship, and yet I'm still greedy. I still want more!”

He takes a step back, needing the distance from you. His chest heaves while he lowers his eyes at the pebbled ground, deep in realization that he’s slipped up. The silence between you two is killing him and he’s lost in his head with dread and doubt that he’s just gone and fucked up everything more. He raises his eyes with the little spirit he has left, eyes filled with great pain that knocks the air out of your lungs.

“You want… more.. With me?” The question is barely breathed out into the open space of increasing vulnerability. 

He licks his lips, contemplating his next words, taking his time to really study your appearance. He notes the lack of uncomfortableness. There's no show of disgust or rejection of his disclosure for how he feels. He’s surprised he’s still standing considering how his heart is beating, sure if it beats any more he’d need a replacement.

He swallows with force the last of his fear, feeling the lump drag down his throat and sink to the bottom of his pit. He nods, unable to utter anything else, allowing himself to be fully transparent for once. 

Tears of realization stream down your face as you comprehend his words, blending with the saturation on your face. He’s not even mad at you. He’s angry with himself. You know him well enough to spot that his eyes reveal his tell. He’s afraid. He wants more, even though he can’t admit it. Your heart skips a beat at the confession. 

He’s close enough to catch the onslaught of tears beginning and his face falls with fear. This is what he had apprehended. “Fuck!” He turns with anger, his fists clenching, his body shaking with regret and anguish. “Ace-e - why would you let me tell you this? Jesus!” He’s facing away from you to hold back his tears, his head clouded with assumptions of why you’re upset, all heading in the wrong direction. 

“W-what? Mattheo - no these are-” You step forwards reaching for him with a tender arm. 

“Dont. Don’t lie to me, Ace.” He shrugs your touch off, blocking his walls back up with ease. 

“Mattheo, I'm not lying! I’m not upset-” 

“Y/n I’m being serious.. I don’t want your pity-”

You scoff, offended, “Pity!? I've never once taken pity on you, Mattheo Riddle. Is that how you think I see you?” You blink back the tears as he turns again, fighting the frustrations to not just smack some sense into him. God, how oblivious is he to you. “I could never pity you. I respect you too much.”

“Respect me?! What in fuck for?” 

The water builds behind your eyes, blurring your vision amongst the rain, watching him express his insecurities. “B-because- because I fucking love you, you idiot!” 

There's a buzzing, fluttering feeling in his chest like all his nerves have lit on fire, and he blinks, frozen in shock. His chest rises and falls, shallow and slow, but his heart palpates rampaging behind it. The fuzzy feeling migrates around, running from his fingertips up to the apples of his cheeks like an unwelcoming chill as he attempts to process your words. 

Everything he thought he knew disintegrates out into the open space, like a gust of wind swept through his mind collecting all his stupid, suspecting doubts. You love him. Love. Love! The unfamiliar word bounces around his mind as he mulls over the possibilities of the meaning. His mouth runs dry despite the assault of rain, as he struggles to form any words. 

“I know this is hard, hell I can’t believe I just said that to you-”

You're shut up by the pleasant surprise of his lips smashing onto yours, with an effort of urgency urged behind the feel of his soft lips. His hands move to cup your face, your soaked face, the warmth of them rising a blush to your cheeks, as he holds them with tenderness. He kisses you with all the love he has, willing to give you every beat of his heart. He knows you already have it. It's always been yours. 

Truly, every piece of love for you is magnified by your relationship with him. Your generosity to accept him for who he is, to open your heart to him, even if he always believed it to be platonic. It was enough to grow his heart, and since then, it had always belonged to you. He pushes every ounce of emotion through, knowing it's easier to express than through words. 

“You-u..” He breathes, catching his breath as he pulls back, struggling to get the words out. 

“Actually?” He smiles in reassurance and hope glosses over his eyes. His chest vibrates as he chokes out a disbelieving laugh and his grin broadens. "You-u lo-” He can't even finish the sentence so choked up by all of this. 

A smile graces your face with wide, full cheeks that burn with happiness and you reciprocate his choked upness, feeling the tears start again. The way your head nods ridiculously fast, flicking your drenched hair in all directions, makes him chuckle and he cups your cheeks for fear of it flying off. “Not fucking with me are you now Ace, cuz I swear to god if you-” 

Leaning forwards you capture his lips effortlessly, now being the one to shut him up. It's sweet but passionate and he can’t get enough when you pull away. He threads a hand through his soaked hair in utter disbelief, his eyes returning to your loving ones. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long. Kiss the crap out of you over and over.” He rests his forehead against yours and reaches down for your hand.

He’s taking in everything you’ve just said, grasping for the same longing that's been sitting, waiting to be released between the two of you like a dam. His face lights, and a little smile curves onto his face, and for the first time he feels the words sitting with ease on his tongue. “You have no idea how in love I am with you. Ace, I’ve been in love with you since forever. Fuck i-just you know I'm not good with words, feelings, all that bullshit.” 

You try to fight the blush creeping up your neck, but the smile that appears beaming brightly back at him is impossible to suppress. You’re completely speechless, overwhelmed with euphoric feelings of contentment. Words you’d only dreamed of hearing, now confessed to you in the eye of a storm, and suddenly you’re laughing. “Are we insane?”

His eyes light at your happiness, but he raises a curious brow, not catching what you said at the sound of another boom. “Are- we…WHAT?”

The sound of your laughter bubbles at his adorable confusion. “It doesn’t matter! We should head inside now.” He seems to catch the end of that and nods hurriedly, reaching out to grab your arm, leading the two of you up and into the castle. 

Under the shelter of the overhanging archways he turns, grabbing you by your shoulders, “wait- just let me get something else off my chest first.” He swallows, pushing the wet strands back behind your ears, “I’m s-sorry.” 

You watch him feeling an immense depth of pride for him, and you smile softly, reassuring him to continue. “look.. I won't apologise for hitting Dean, I don’t regret that and- i-I can’t tell you it all yet, but he said something that cut deep. Whether or not the asshole meant it, I couldn’t take how it made me feel. But I am sorry I ruined your night at the gig. Fuck- I was angry and jealous and I really was trying to look out for you.”

You nod in understanding, accepting that he’s not ready to bear that much emotion in one night, and bring him in for a hug. “Matty.. You don’t know how much I appreciate you trying.” He clings to you, a desperate boy finally receiving the much needed love he had been deprived of for too long. “And-d you didn’t really ruin my night. I wanted to go with you first, anyway. But I got in my head - the doubt i-i just didn’t want to ruin us.”

He pulls back cupping your cheeks, “god we’re stupid aren’t we?” He smiles amused with the obliviousness and blindness you both held for one another. “I’m just glad I didn’t lose you.”

You shake your head, “you never would have. I was bluffing completely.. I couldn’t handle being without you, Mattheo.”

He grins, leaning down to press another soft passionate kiss to your lips, “and you couldn’t have lost me even if you tried Ace. You’re literally iron cast around my heart. The knot is too tight. You’d have to break me just to free the attachment I have to you.” His eyes are sincere and hold so much emotion you’re verging on tears again. 

“Okay, ah let's not cry again. I wasn’t lying about not being able to handle that. Let's go back to my dorm. Come on.” His arm guides you wrapping around your waist, a stark contrast to the way his arm usually drapes over your shoulder casually. He helps you walk back to his dorm with care and compassion, the energy between you a mixture of excitement and lightness, the weight of the confession lifted. 

He helps you into his dorm, closing the door and gazes at you with pure happiness before searching his dorm for some towels. A room you’ve stood in many times before but never in this sense, and just being here with all your feelings out in the open makes your body prick with anticipation. 

You stand watching him shivering a little, and begin to unstick your thick sweater, clinging to your soaked through shirt, stripping it up with difficulty while Mattheo searches through his draws for some clean clothes. The head of the material sticks trapping your head and you groan, frustrated, trying to pull it off, catching Mattheo’s attention. He peers over his shoulder, laughing at the awkward situation he’s spotted you in. 

His gaze drops and his eyes darken shamelessly, admiring how your shirt clings to your body, accentuating your chest. He licks his lips, letting his thoughts run wild for once with no guilt, and stops what he was doing walking closer. His hands graze your waist, letting you know of his proximity as he speaks with a low husk in his tone. “Lemme help Ace.” 

He slides his hands gently up your sides till he pushes the sleeves of the sweater up, freeing your arms before helping squeeze your head through the hole. The sweater drops to the floor; the moment becoming charged with heightened tension and desperate looks reflected in both of you. 

His fingers descend, tracing down your sides in slow strokes that makes your heart leap your full attention on him. You exhale small shallow breaths, feeling your insides squirm under his intense stare, not daring to say a word. His hands wrap around the curve of your waist, tugging you inwards till you press fully up against him, giving you his signature boyish grin. 

“That's better.” His eyes flicker between the desperation dripping in your eyes to the soft parting of your lips, waiting with anticipation. 

His head dips, brushing his lips back against yours, and he whispers with the weight of a man ready to feast on his deepest desires. “Ace..you know I want you… don't you?” He’s so close that when he licks his lips, his tongue grazes your lower lip with the subtlest of touches and he relishes in the sucking in of your breath. Barely able to hold back the teasing smirk at your reaction, he presses his lips to your cheek in a gentle, tender kiss instead. 

You nod, your chest rising and falling with intense yearning, whispering back, “Yes.. I know now.”

“Good. That’s good.” He presses another kiss travelling up your cheek, sparking the heat to rise, flushing the skin a deep red. He grins sincerely, “you look so pretty when you blush.”

You swallow, feeling your body alight with need, buzzing with electricity that runs down to the tips of your toes. You wonder if he knows how aroused you feel right now. The rest of your clothes are slick still with rainwater, but you already know the puddle forming in your panties is definitely from the heat. You attempt to exhale quiet bated breaths throughout your nose, unable to trust your mouth to open, uncertain what kind of animalistic sound would fall out. 

Mattheo might be oblivious to love, but he’s a keen observer in the act of sexual intimacy. It’s as if his eyes are an x-ray lust detector. He knows all the tells of an aroused woman. “So pretty Ace, fuck..you’re making me want to kiss you senseless.” His voice strains with restraint. He’s still holding onto some concern, not wanting to freak you out with all his intense energy waiting to consume you. 

The struggle in his tone only makes you want him more and your eyes lift upwards, filled with hungry persuasions. Uttering a simple, “please.” 

The moment you plead with those sweet eyes, all his control gets thrown out the window. Taking your jaw in his hand, he leans back in to kiss you. His lips melting onto yours, the two of your lips colliding in synchronization. His hands cup the nape of your head, tilting it back, and diving deeper, his tongue pushes, seeking entrance as kindly as he can be while he fights the pure animalistic hunger to devour you urgently. 

You moan softly, allowing him access, the two of your tongues dancing with one another like a fervent tango. He mumbles softly against them, “Do you know how long I craved to feel these lips, Ace?” 

A deep flush grows on your cheeks and you breathe heavily, gazing up, feeling his lips kiss along the side of your neck. “How long?” You ask breathlessly. 

He chuckles at your response and interest. “too fucking long. I always knew that you’d taste this sweet.” The soft sighs and hums that vibrate out of you have his mind spinning and he presses his lips harder onto your skin, needing to entice more out of you. He pulls you closer to him before he’s back, kissing your lips, engulfing you completely. 

The two of you continue to make out, still standing, before his fingers slip under your wet shirt and he hisses at the cold contact. “Merin, you're still freezing.” 

“I’m okay.” You reassure him, shivering from his touch. 

He smiles, noticing the shiver. “Yeah?”

You nod, promising him, finding it sweet how he’s concerned about you. Sliding your own hands up his arms, you find solace cupping the back of his neck, pulling him down, needing another kiss. He falls back into the growing pattern, not wanting to miss even a single moment of your touch. 

“I know a way you can warm me up, though.” 

His eyes flutter open and he gazes at you, his eyes glistening with similar intention. “Oh, yeah?” He flashes an amused smile, intrigued by your flirtatious energy. “What might that be, Ace?” 

Biting your lip with a teasing smile of your own, you step back, pulling him with you onto the bed, causing him to chuckle happily. His arms flex, holding himself up from crushing you with his weight, and his head dips. “Fuck, you look so sexy when you bite that.” 

Your face contorts with a soft whine at the flustering compliment and he grins, more pleased with your reaction. His lips reclaim yours once more with delicate urgency, and you match it quickly getting lost, diving your hands into his curls. Having only stroked his hair tenderly, your fingers move with eagerness, tugging and pulling desperately to get a sound out of him. 

His hands trace you with the utmost respect and value, different from his experiences with other girls. There's reasoning and depth behind every touch. Enjoying every sweet moment, being able to explore every curve he’s only dreamed about touching. He’s finally able to hold you the way he's always wanted, no longer needing to hide behind his fragile vulnerability in the dark. He's finally giving you all of him under the limelight, and he hopes to show you how he’s felt this whole time. 

Mattheo groans at each tug of hair, lowering himself to keep kissing you, his hands sliding under your shirt again, feeling the way your body contracts. The muscles twitch with sensitivity and he swallows your gasp, grinning before pushing dominantly his tongue back in. His fingers peel the wet shirt up and over your bra. 

He sits up ditching his own shirt, and your hands roam over his chest, feeling the groves of his past scars, sending shivers down his back. He watches gazing at your eyes and how they view him. You already know about the meaning behind them, but now you get to love them, and he bites his lip to not get choked up at how you look at him with love in your eyes. 

He grabs your wrists, gently kissing both of them before he pins them above your head, shocking a gasp out of you. He grins, satisfied by your reaction as he shifts, sliding his hands upwards, intertwining your fingers together in an intimate hand hold.

“I’ll go gentle on you...just for today, yeah.” Another cheeky grin flashes your way, unaware of the concealed experience of your sexual life. 

You laugh at his sweet reassurance, squeezing his hands, loving the feeling of holding onto him. “I’m really not as innocent as you believe, Matty.” 

He raises a brow with surprised curiosity. “Are you telling me I’m not about to be your first Ace?” 

The silence confuses him, for when he looks down at you, there's a flash of guilt in your eyes. “I’m not?” He feels a wave of jealousy flow through his veins at the thought of you with someone else, though he knows he has no reason to. He leans down, carrying on his sensual onslaught, kissing up behind your ear. He nips it gently as he whispers sultry, “really?” 

Feeling your head nod, he lets out a tiny groan, mostly at himself for taking too fucking long to get his shit together. “That is a shame, baby.” 

Turning your head to lock with his sight, reassuring him, “It means more with you, though, Matty.” 

His eyes soften, giving a curt nod. He can see the sincerity and honesty in your eyes and he offers a smile back, pecking you. He knows it's true, as it is for him. “The same goes for me.” He cups your cheeks, pressing his forehead to yours, “This isn't a one time thing, okay? You mean so much to me, Ace, and never again do I want to make you feel how I did before.” 

His eyes hold so much truth and devotion that you can feel your eyes beginning to water. That is before his hips shift, pressing ever so subtly down, getting into a grinding rhythm as he distracts you from the raw moment with kisses.

He almost jumps out of his skin when your bold hand explores down south, not expecting you to act so brazenly. He shifts, rolling onto his side, allowing your hand to slip inside his pants and wrap around his cock. He can’t help but buck his hips into your palm at the feel of your hand making contact.

“Fuck-Ace.” His eyes droop, looking at you shifting onto your side too, your tits squishing together in the constraints of your bra, his mouth gaping letting out a hitched shaky breath. 

Capturing your lips once more, moaning into your mouth, he drowns in the pleasure of how your hand increasingly pumps his cock up and down. He murmurs, resting his forehead against yours with knitted brows, “oh - yeah, ace like that.” 

His own hands creep and unbutton your jeans, pushing them down with a bit of urgency. “This okay?” 

You nod and ask back, “You? This okay?” 

He nods, kissing your cheek and down your neck, “Yes.. better than okay- your hand feels so good.” 

You tug your jeans down, kicking them off revealing your panties and he groans, peering down, before he slides a hand rubbing your thigh and tracing his fingers teasingly over the skin as they itch with temptation, brushing gently over your core. He rubs, applying slow pressure over your clothed covered clit and runs a hand through your hair, tugging it back to kiss you. He loves hearing your little sounds muffled into his mouth at the extra sensation you’re feeling.

“So pretty..you sounds so hot.” 

You whine sensitively and he swears he’s sent to heaven at the harmonic pitch of your voice. His cock twitches, pulsing in your hand to the sound. Your actions slow focusing on your pleasure and for once he doesn’t mind not being the centre of attention. 

He watches with an intense focus full of desire at how your pretty eyes can’t handle staying open, fluttering. The steady rise of your chest increases with every bit of pressure he rubs tauntingly slow. He can't wait any longer, maneuvering his hand under your panties, sliding one finger in, his skin saturated instantly in your juices. 

His own breathing congeals to short tiny gasps, eyes darkening, consumed with lustral appreciation. “Soakin Ace. You've been this wet the whole time?” 

His question, which seems sincere, causes a flustered reaction and you moan again, grabbing hold of the sheets. He takes it as a yes. 

Soft moans of satisfaction infiltrate the room at each hum of your lips. He can feel just how much you’re enjoying this, welcoming him to do what he wants. The trust you have to know what he’s doing is appreciated, and he hums himself in arrogance. Every reaction, sound, movement - watching as your hips begin to jut slightly seek more friction only fills him with a deep pride. You're his girl now, and he’ll never disappoint you again. 

His lips move peppering kisses down your neck, nipping at the skin, seeking the achievement of leaving marks of purple hues. “You like that, yeah?”

His finger protrudes deeper, gaining a steady pace, and his eyes flicker away from decoration markings on your neck to your legs spreading wider for his hand. He needs more, hearing every gasp and the sweet moan exhaling from you is pure bliss, and makes him feel on cloud nine.

He hisses gently at how your hand involuntarily squeezes the nearest thing, which happens to be his cock still. It's torture, as you're so focused on him, just pleasing him to even notice the subtle teasing you’re providing. “Sweetheart..” His tone is gritted with bated breath. “F-fuck, please either let go or do something with your hand.” 

You moan at the pet name and begin pumping him again, trying to multitask, your brows frowning at his addition of another finger. “Ah- sorry Matty.. I’m trying…just feels s’good!”

He grins at your struggle to speak. “Yeah, feels good?” His fingers meticulously move with skill, slick knuckles deep in your cunt, before he curls them, scraping the spot to make your back arch. 

There’s a string of whines as your hips buck up into his hand, “Uh! Yes!” 

“Yeah, you want another? Want me to stretch you out…wanna be ready for me, don’t you, Ace?” 

While his words are forward and prompting for more, he doesn’t make any moves to do anything until you give him confirmation. He’s continuously checking for your assurance, making sure this is what you want. He just wants to bring you pleasure, watch you get off riding slowly onto his fingers. How your back is arching and your muttering soft pleads, all for him. What's yours is his right. 

You nod desperately, “Please Matty!” 

He obliges, pushing in a third with ease, your walls contracting to fit him snug inside your drenched pussy. The warmth that evades his fingers has him groaning, listening to a new wave of mews slur out of you. “Fuck-that’s it. Such a good girl, baby.” 

He bites back the small protest when you release his cock and grip his arm instead, the indents of your nails digging into his skin, stinging but filling him with a possessive power. He wants your marks on him as much as he wants to leave them on you. To combine your bodies as one and intertwine in a way that goes beyond physical. 

Pure bliss overcomes your face and you turn, opening your eyes, glossy with need. Bringing his head down in urgency, you plead. “Matty…Matty, I want more.. Please, I don’t wanna cum unless it’s in you.” 

“Shit-t yes yeah?”

His fingers slowly drag, retracting out, pulling a needy whine from the back of your throat, and you nod urgently. He gives his fingers a quick lick, not wanting to waste a single drop of you, watching focused how you shuffle out of your panties. 

He shifts sitting up and starts removing his own wet pants with great difficulty. The jeans are heavy and compressed to his thighs tight, causing them to stick, his groin constricted pushing snuggly against the material of his unbutton pants. “Shit- fuck, these are fucking tight now.”

Wandering his gaze at your movements, he watches frozen, disbelieving the vision before him. Sitting up onto your elbows, you unclip your bra, freeing your tits and exposing yourself fully. His pants sit halfway down his legs, his jaw tensing, eyes gazing with enamour at your bare body. He blinks again, swearing this has to be one very good sex dream. 

“Fucking Salazar.” He takes in your body as you lay waiting patiently. His lustful gaze only makes you that much hotter. He leans against the bedpost, unable to drag his eyes away. “Ace?”

“Yeah?” 

“Just checking this is real.” He finishes pulling his pants down, almost tripping over them with excitement that draws a giggle out of you. The sound of your laugh shakes him out of his daze, and he grins cheekily, continuing his mission of ridding his clothes as fast as possible. “God, I love your laugh.. gonna make me cum right now.”

Your laugh grows in ecstatic shock at his vulgar words. “Mattheo!”

“Oh yeah, look at you practicing screaming already.” He grins, finding your flustering adoring. He frees his cock, admiring the absolutely thirsty look painting your face. He can’t help how his mind backtracks to your admission of not being a virgin, and he lets out a speck of jealousy. “Tell me really, am I bigger?” 

“Bigger?” Only just are your eyes able to drift away and up with a furrowed brow. 

“Yeah.. Then the fucker who stole your virginity.” 

You can’t help the pleased laugh breaking out at his not-so-subtle jealousy, trying to hold back the smug attitude. “Seriously, you're getting jealous now, while I'm baring not only my body but my heart and soul to you.” Lifting a feigned unimpressed eyebrow, you watch with astonishment at how his face changes, expressing a small sheepish smile. 

You beckon him closer with a finger, welcoming the confidence flowing through you. “Come here.” 

As if pulled by a magnet, he crawls back down, hovering above, his eyes gleaming enticingly and the deep inhale of need. The way you’re looking at him as if he holds all your answers, holds all the warmth for you and that he’s the only one to bring you happiness prick at his skin, feeling nervous. But then you smile and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and whisper an adorable, “Hi.”

He grins back, finding himself relaxing just at the mere sight of those brimming cheeks and whispers back, “Hey gorgeous.”

His hands roam, maneuvering over your body and pushing your thighs apart. He notes how your eyes fall, breath spiking with anticipation. “Hey, look at me.” His voice is a soft, strained whisper, on the break of losing it altogether as the head of his tip drags through your folds. “You know I love your eyes. It's one of your favourite features of mine.” 

He’s never done this before. Been so openly intimate, especially as he’s preparing to fuck someone. He nudges the tip a little further in just gently, a low rumble etching out with hoarse feralness. “I want your eyes on me the whole time, ok Ace.” 

Meeting his eye, losing yourself drowning in warm pools of brown neediness, listening to his gentle but essential request, you nod in confirmation. “I will. I never want to turn my back on you again. I love your eyes too much, too.” 

His cheeks are hurting from how much they’ve stretched into a smile tonight. “God, you’re perfect, aren’t you?” He captures your lips in a short but passionate kiss.

“Just tell me if it's too much, yeah.” He warns concerningly, biting back the desire to lose control and wreck you completely. At just your nod he utters, looking back up, “words Ace.” 

“I will.. yeah, Matty just please..”

“Good girl, such sweet manners.” He grins, licking his lip as he grips his cock, nudging it further in between your folds, his eyes fixed on the way your pretty pussy embraces the head so perfectly, like it was made just for him. A glottal groan of relief passes through his lips and he thrusts his hips gently, his cock sliding deeper into the tightness of your warm walls. 

“Oh-f-fuck.” He drops his head, pressing his forehead already beginning to bare a sheen of sweat onto yours, feeling the gaping of your own mouth. The sound that pulls from you is sinful, a delicious lewd moan that makes him grip your hips with firmness to not fall apart so quickly. 

“God-yeah…You feel so fucking’good.”

At the flexible way your legs bend back towards your chest naturally, he groans breathlessly, taking it as a sign you’re okay for him to pick up the pace. His hips thrust, driving into you with a satisfying rhythm, the moans continuing to tumble from your lips. 

“That’s it… you sound so pretty, baby.” He rasps low and husky. He’s looking at everything, watching the pleasure etched on your face while you lay with your eyes scrunched closed, absorbing it all. He flickers his eyes back and forth from how his cock slides between your folds captivatingly and up to your pretty blessed out face. Your mouth gaping as streams of whiney moans flows out, your head thrown back in ecstasy. “Fuck, I don't know where to look baby…look so good taking me.”

Clutching onto him with a grip of iron, nails pinching into his skin as he cages your body in. His biceps bulge under the movement of holding his weight above you. He drops his head into the crook of your neck and he groans, feeling your fingers dig into his hair, listening to your babbled praises. “Matty- ah feel s’good.” 

He roams his hands, stretching your legs wider as he presses his palm down to stabilize himself, his hips vigorously bucking with the strength of a raging bull. He doesn’t know how he told himself he could go easy, with the way your pussy squeezes his cock feels as good as pure heroine. He plants kisses on your neck and turns your head towards him, pressing his lips back onto yours. 

He’s in love with the way you feel, the way you sound, your touches roaming his body, switching from gentle caresses to carnal scratches. He feels whole with you, intertwined as bursts of passion taint your tongues, each sound harmonising together heavenly. “Ace.. fuck, you’re so perfect.” 

You nod, trying to form a solid thought in response, but the way the tip of his cock is gliding so effortlessly into your cervix only makes you chant his name, your voice breaking with a high pitch strain.

It’s one of the most beautiful things he’s ever witnessed and he kisses your ear, whispering sweet nothings into them, encouraging your onboarding orgasm. “Mmm yeah, cum for me baby, so fuckin pretty wanna watch you fall apart.”

Your climax breaks, spots of white light blurring your vision and you tighten your arms around him, clinging to the one thing grounding you from the overwhelming pleasure. His head lifts, watching with pure delight at the way your body convulses, glistening with sweat like an ethereal being. His body shakes as his hips jutter following you. Broken groans mumble against the skin of your neck as he spills his seed into you entirely. 

He huffs a tired pant, not wanting to move, for he’s never felt so whole as right now. He murmurs softly, pressing a sloppy kiss to your ear, “s'good..the best ace. I could live in your pussy, just fall asleep and never wake up.”

You catch your breath, letting out a shaky laugh that makes your cunt squeeze his cock, releasing another deep groan. He shifts his cock aching sensitivity and pulls out rolling to lie beside you, wrapping an arm around your neck to tuck you into his side.

He rests his chin on top of your head. “You okay?” 

Nodding with droopy eyes, you plant a kiss on his collarbone and try to calm your mind and absorb the reality of what’s just happened. “Yeah..you're definitely bigger.” You grin answering his earlier question. You blink, gazing up at him with nothing but love and a rapturous glow on your face. “but I’m ok.. im great.” 

He chuckles warmly, not even caring to be cocky anymore. He tangles his hand into the still wet knot of your locks. “fuck yeah you are..and your super sure you're real?”

You pinch his thigh, making a sudden squeal come out of his mouth. “Alright! Aight, no need to seek revenge on me - I already apologised.” He jests cupping your head in a firm hold like one of his usual headlocks, but only plants a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

“I am sorry, though, and I mean it.” He shifts so your face is parallel to his and he admires the returning light that shines back into your eyes, a warmth that lights the darkness inside him. He brushes your check with his thumb, over the red hues adorning your cheeks, evidence of your spent state. 

“I may be a twat a good portion of the time, and this-”, he gestures between the two of you. “Still scares me, so fucking much.” His words are raw and burn with a vulnerability that still sits unfamiliar in his throat. “You’re truly an enigma. I still don’t know what in the hell you see in me?”

You smile, eyes brimming with the utmost love. "I see everything you don’t.” 

It’s the truth, and it always has been. The way Mattheo makes you feel is frightening, electrifying, like you’re caught in a storm and he’s your saving grace, parting the seas, giving you everything you need. How his eyes shine, reflecting your clear emotion, makes your heart beat with the force of a thousand drums stimulating the rest of your body.

A warm buzz vibrates between the two of you, knowing that all along, everything you were both missing was right there. The notion that you'll both be alright, swaddled in the new cocoon of your relationship, both finally receiving the love you deserve together.

This work is my own, please don't copy or claim. Any and all interactions are appreciated, thank you for reading! ty again @amongemeraldclouds for your love and support! couldn't have done this without you!

Navigation. Masterlist. Mattheo Riddle Masterlist.

©️pizzaapeteer 2025

[jungwnies]

f1 gris (2/2) | forgetting their birthday

୨ৎ : featuring : kimi antonelli, ollie bearman, yuki tsunoda, isack hadjar, and liam lawson + special feature franco colapinto and lance stroll (click here for part one) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by @holycastles) : pretending to forget their birthday but actually having a huge surprise for them planned

୨ৎ : genre : romantic comedy ୨ৎ : word count : 2342

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : yall.. 10k followers is sooo fucking insane tysm! i will be doing a 10k special in a few weeks so pls stay tuned... it's finals coming up so i will be a bit busyyy but once its over i will 100% be focused here >.<

ʚ・kimi antonelli

kimi didn’t say much when he realized the day was slipping by without a single mention. he never really made a big deal about birthdays. he didn’t expect balloons or cake or instagram captions. but still, from you, he expected something.

at breakfast, he waited. you served him pancakes and coffee like it was any other wednesday. no candles. no teasing grins. just a kiss on the cheek and a "have a good day, babe."

at lunch, nothing. he thought maybe you were planning something. maybe it was a joke. but as the hours went on, doubt started to creep in. you were scrolling your phone while curled up on the couch, totally at ease. too at ease. his heart sank.

he didn’t say anything. just kind of sat with it. didn’t pout. didn’t throw shade. but you knew him. you saw it in the way he was quieter than usual, more distracted, checking his phone a little too often.

at dinner, you brought out his favorite pasta—your homemade version. still no mention. he stared at his plate for a beat too long before picking up his fork.

"kimi?" you said softly. he looked up. "you okay?"

he shrugged. "yeah. just tired."

you let him take another bite before quietly slipping away. when you returned, the lights went off. and the cake came out. candles. sparklers. a stupid little crown. and you.

"happy birthday, kimi."

his eyes softened immediately. he didn’t smile big—he never did—but his whole face lit up in that subtle, slow-burning way that made your heart twist.

"i knew it," he said, shaking his head, voice barely above a whisper. "you’re evil."

you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your face to his chest. "took you long enough to crack."

he held you tighter than usual. "you scared me," he mumbled.

"i’d never forget. not ever."

he didn’t need the cake or the candles. just that promise, and you in his arms, and the warmth he tried so hard not to show.

ʚ・ollie bearman

you started the prank at midnight—intentionally saying “goodnight” without even a hint of “happy birthday.” you heard him scoff in the dark. one point for you.

by morning, he was already suspicious. “so… you didn’t have any weird dreams or anything?” he asked at breakfast, eyeing you over his cereal.

“nope,” you replied, sipping your tea like an oscar-winning actor.

ollie blinked. “not even about, i don’t know, special occasions?”

“like tax season?” you offered.

his spoon clattered into the bowl. “oh my god.”

you kept the act going all day. when he dramatically flopped onto the couch saying, “this day feels important for some reason,” you just hummed and asked if he wanted a snack.

by noon, he was spiraling.

you caught him googling “do geminis need more attention?” and muttering to himself while pacing around the apartment. then, when his phone pinged with a birthday text from a teammate, he gasped so loudly it startled the cat.

“you’re lying,” he said, holding up the screen like evidence in a trial.

“about what?” you blinked innocently.

“my birthday. my birthday. are you seriously telling me lando norris remembered before you?!”

you bit your lip to keep from laughing. “ollie, i think you’re just being dramatic.”

he stared at you like you’d just slapped him with a cake. “i will never recover from this betrayal.”

you let him sulk for a while—faking deep emotional trauma while dramatically playing sad songs from his spotify. but then, when he finally dragged himself to the kitchen for ice cream, he opened the freezer and found a box that said “for my favorite chaos goblin.”

inside? a tiny cake with a candle already lit, and a note that said, you really thought i forgot? babe. please.

he stood frozen, jaw hanging open.

you popped your head around the corner. “happy birthday, drama queen.”

ollie just stared. “i planned a whole guilt trip. i almost cried to charles. you absolute menace.”

you giggled as he tackled you in a bear hug, cake be damned. “you’re lucky i love you.”

you whispered back, “i know.”

ʚ・yuki tsunoda

you started the prank the night before. yuki was curled up on the couch, legs in your lap, chattering about how excited he was for ramen tomorrow and how "the birthday boy deserves extra noodles."

you just smiled, nodded, and said, “wait, is something happening tomorrow?”

the look he gave you was instant and horrified. “what do you mean… is something happening?”

you shrugged. “i just feel like i’m forgetting something.”

yuki blinked. “no. no. you’re messing with me.”

you patted his head. “you’re being so dramatic lately, babe.”

that got you a narrowed stare and a suspicious squint. “you’re acting weird. i’m watching you.”

by morning, he had fully entered petty mode. he stomped around the kitchen in his slippers, deliberately making extra noise. you greeted him with a “good morning” and a kiss on the cheek. no “happy birthday.”

he looked personally offended. “nothing? not even a hint?”

you poured your coffee. “hint about what?”

he gasped. “you really did forget. oh my god.”

then he got very, very quiet.

for the next few hours, he refused to tell you what he wanted for lunch. he kept mumbling “i don’t care” and “whatever, it’s just a normal day.” but when you handed him a sandwich, he held it in both hands like it was the saddest thing he’d ever received.

finally, around 3 p.m., you told him you were going out for a bit. he just nodded, curled up on the couch with a blanket over his head, sulking dramatically.

you came back 30 minutes later with a party hat, a mini cake, and his favorite ramen from that place he always begged you to drive to. you walked in singing softly, “happy birthday to yuki…”

he peeked out from under the blanket like a kid. “i knew it. i knew you wouldn’t actually forget.”

you sat beside him and kissed his cheek. “you’re too cute to forget, yuki.”

he beamed, cheeks pink, and pulled you into his lap. “you scared me. i was one second away from texting your mom and telling on you.”

you laughed against his shoulder. “wouldn’t be the first time.”

he grinned. “still gonna eat this cake like you broke my heart, though.”

you handed him a fork. “as you should, birthday boy.”

ʚ・isack hadjar

you knew isack would be the most dramatic when you pretended to forget his birthday. what you didn’t expect was how fast he would spiral into chaos.

it started when you woke up and didn’t say a word. no “happy birthday,” no breakfast in bed, no suspicious glances. just vibes. isack stared at you in silence like he was waiting for the punchline.

“you good?” you asked as you brushed your teeth.

he crossed his arms. “i just think it’s interesting how some people wake up today and act like it’s just… wednesday.”

you choked on your toothpaste but played it cool. “it is just wednesday.”

he gasped. “oh my god.”

you spent the morning fake-working on your laptop while he paced around muttering in french. at one point, he opened your calendar on your phone while pretending to check the weather.

“nothing’s even marked. no cake emoji. not even a dot.”

you side-eyed him. “babe. what are you talking about?”

he threw himself on the couch. “do i mean nothing to you? after i sent you that meme yesterday? that meant something.”

lunch was him dramatically scrolling through old birthday posts you’d made for your cat and reading them out loud.

“to the best boy in the world, love you forever,” he quoted, glaring. “your cat got more love than me.”

you almost caved.

but then he disappeared into the bedroom for 30 minutes and came back out in full black. black shirt, black jeans, black sunglasses.

“i’m in mourning,” he said. “for the relationship i thought i had.”

you snorted so hard you nearly dropped your phone. finally, you pulled the hidden cake out of the fridge and lit the candle.

“happy birthday, you absolute menace.”

he blinked. “wait. you knew? this whole time?!”

you nodded, grinning.

he pointed at you like he was ready to call the police. “you’re sick.”

but then he saw the cake, and the way you’d written ‘to my favorite boy’ in icing, and his face completely melted.

he gave you a big, exaggerated sigh. “fine. you’re forgiven. but only because this cake smells amazing.”

and then he took the biggest bite without using a fork.

ʚ・liam lawson

liam woke up like it was any other day. no expectations. no fuss. dude was already making coffee and singing off-key in the kitchen before you even got out of bed.

you walked in, kissed his shoulder, and greeted him with a casual, “morning.”

he turned, handed you your mug, then looked mildly amused. “sooo… nothin’ special today, huh?”

you blinked. “what, is it national ‘liam makes great coffee’ day?”

he laughed. “honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it was.”

but as the morning went on, he kept making little comments. you’d walk past and he’d go, “still nothing, huh?” under his breath. or he’d look at his phone and dramatically say, “wow, so many birthday messages… wonder what someone forgot.”

you didn’t flinch. you even made lunch like it was a totally normal tuesday.

but liam? oh, he was plotting.

he started dropping the weirdest hints. said things like, “kinda craving cake. no reason. just… feel like today’s a good day for it.”

or “if i was born today, that’d be wild, right?”

by late afternoon, he full-on dropped his driver’s license on the table and casually went, “you ever look at this photo and think, ‘damn. what a birthday boy’?”

you finally caved around 4 p.m., dragging out a wrapped box and a card that said “to the kiwi who thinks he’s slick.”

he opened it with a smirk. “knew it. you’re a menace.”

you kissed his cheek. “you were so annoying about it.”

he grinned. “you love it. admit it.”

you rolled your eyes. “i do. but next year i’m setting a reminder just so i don’t have to watch you fake-suffer like that again.”

he leaned back, smug. “next year, i’m faking amnesia. your move.”

ʚ・franco colapinto

franco wasn’t expecting fireworks for his birthday. honestly, he never did. but he was expecting you to say something when the day started.

instead, you kissed his cheek like usual, told him good morning, and then asked if he could take out the trash.

he hesitated, eyes flicking toward you. “you sleep okay?”

“mmhmm,” you said, scrolling on your phone. “you?”

he nodded slowly. “yeah… weird dreams, though. something about, like… cake.”

you bit back a grin. “maybe you’re just craving sugar.”

the rest of the morning went like that. franco dropping soft, hopeful hints. you pretending not to notice. he wasn’t pouty, not like ollie or isack. but you could tell—he was waiting. watching you with that quiet, slightly anxious energy.

at lunch, he made you coffee and served it with a shy smile. “anything you want today?”

you shook your head. “nothing special.”

he paused. “you sure?”

“mhm.”

and that’s when he got real quiet. not in a dramatic way—just a little dimmer. still smiled. still held your hand when you went out for groceries. but his fingers played with the hem of your sleeve the entire walk, like he was grounding himself.

when you got home, you “accidentally” left your phone unlocked with a birthday alarm still set. he saw it. paused. smiled—that soft franco smile—and said nothing.

but a few minutes later, when you asked him to grab something from the oven, he opened it and found a birthday cake with his name on it.

you walked into the kitchen behind him, holding a small box with your gift and whispered, “you didn’t think i’d forget, right?”

he turned to you, eyes a little watery, smile so soft it could melt anything. “i didn’t. not really. but i would’ve loved you even if you did.”

you kissed him, and he kissed you back like he’d been waiting all day for that exact moment.

ʚ・lance stroll

lance doesn’t love attention. but birthdays? they kind of mean something to him, especially when it’s you.

so when you woke up, kissed his cheek, and didn’t say anything, he raised a brow but kept cool. “no dreams about cake or parties?”

“nope,” you said, already walking away.

he blinked. “okay.”

the morning passed in silence. well, not silence. you were humming while making breakfast. but lance? lance was watching you like you were a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out.

no texts read over your shoulder. no cake being secretly frosted. no sneaky glances. just… vibes.

at lunch, he cleared his throat. “so… i was born today.”

you blinked. “really? what a coincidence.”

he laughed, shaking his head. “you’re unreal.”

he didn’t push. just teased you under his breath. at one point, he dramatically stared out the window like he was in a sad music video and mumbled, “must be crazy to have a girlfriend who forgets your birthday.”

you cracked at dinner. brought out his favorite dessert—warm, homemade, gooey—and placed a single candle in the center.

he smirked. “oh, so you do love me.”

you handed him a tiny box. “takes more than one prank to scare me off.”

he opened the gift slowly, brows rising as he saw the watch you’d been saving up for. underneath the box was a handwritten note.

for the guy who plays it cool but has the softest heart i’ve ever known.

he looked at you, quiet for a second. then he pulled you into his lap and kissed your cheek. “you’re lucky i’m too in love to be mad.”

you smiled. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

he nuzzled into your neck and whispered, “next year, i’m getting revenge.”

but he said it with the biggest grin.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[tragedy-machine]

for @carebeardean for our dbda anniversary gift exchange! hope you like it <3

and a corresponding little 1.5k ficlet below

(mature rating warning)

“Do you reckon I’d look good in a skirt?”

Edwin pauses his reading, or more accurately freezes, too overwhelmed by dozens of images of Charles in different types of that garment flashing through his mind, effectively blocking the text in front of his eyes.

“Pardon?”

“It’s just–” Charles wrings his hands but takes a brave step towards Edwin where he sits on the couch anyway. “There was a couple in the park today. I don’t think you saw them, but they were tucked away between the trees, talking, and the– and the bloke’s hand was just casually resting on the bird’s upper thigh under her mini skirt and–”

“In public?” Edwin lets out an affronted scoff. “How utterly indecent this generation is.”

“Love, it’s not like we’re that much better,” Charles says and comes up the rest of the way to stand in front of Edwin.

“We do not–” shutting his mouth, Edwin thinks about it more and is forced to change his approach. “We are not visible to most of the population, making our chances of scandalizing someone that much smaller than the couple you mentioned.”

“Right." Charles chuckles, but his face is closed off and he’s not really looking at Edwin, eyes firmly planted on their carpet, posture not as relaxed as it was before. With a little sigh through his nose, he makes to move away, apparently deciding to swallow his disappointment at the fact that the conversation is already over. Edwin lurches to stop Charles and it just so happens that Charles’ legs are at his eye-level, so it’s only natural that Edwin’s hands grab him by the back of his thighs to keep him in place.

The feel of his boyfriend's legs, as well as the sight of Edwin's hands leaving dents in where they’re anchored are arresting enough that Edwin would be happy to just stay dreamily gazing upon it forever, if not for the little squeak ringing above him.

Lured in, Edwin follows the noise to Charles’ mouth, where the boy's lower lips is trapped between his teeth. Focusing on his goal of reassuring Charles, Edwin decides not to look at it too much lest he loses his train of thoughts completely. Their eyes meet and Charles stares at him with two pools of molten heat and suddenly Edwin doesn’t think that that’s much better for the state of his brain. But he pauses his newly-blooming images of kissing up the length of Charles' body with a thought of later.

“I am positive that you would look ravishing in any skirt of your choosing.”

Just as Edwin's hoped for, Charles’ breath hitches. Without even really thinking about it, Edwin’s grip on Charles’ legs tightens, as if wanting to capture the intoxicating feeling that sound gives him.

He’s familiar with this particular area of Charles, having left marks on those thighs many times before, but he still finds himself reverently kneading the muscles and marveling at the part where their give softens.

“Am I to presume,” Edwin thinks back to what prompted Charles to even ask his question in the first place. “That you would prefer skirts of the… shorter variety?”

“Yeah,” Thick like honey, Charles’ agreement rumbles out of him in a low voice. So beautifully strong and boyish just like the rest of him. Imagining all of it nicely wrapped in a flimsy little girly garment sends a thrill down Edwin’s spine. “Ones that’d come up to– um, right about where your hands are.”

“My. That is awfully short indeed.” Not being able to resist the temptation, Edwin moves his hands just a little bit higher and watches a shiver run through Charles’ body. "It would barely cover you up. Would you be wearing anything underneath?”

There’s an infinitesimal jolt to Charles’ hips. Edwin wouldn’t even notice it if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s tantalizingly close to that particular body part. Charles must see something in Edwin’s face that gives away that he’s noticed the movement, because he lets out a half-bitten whine, his eyes fluttering but refusing to close and break their eye contact.

“I don’t– I don’t know. Maybe.”

Edwin can tell that he has the boy close to squirming so he lightens his caresses to a hopefully maddening tease. A suggestion of a touch. What's the fun in giving in right away?

“I would have to wait and see for myself?” Edwin suggests.

“Probably not really wait, but yeah. I’d want you to–” Charles’ hands land on Edwin’s shoulders for support, the twitching of his hips evidently harder to control now that he starts pressing into Edwin’s hands. “To touch me.”

Somewhere on the couch lies Edwin’s book, completely forgotten, but he doesn’t even care about trying not to damage it as he pulls Charles forward so that he’s forced to plant his knees on both sides of Edwin. Now, Charles is essentially straddling him, but not quite, still not sitting down on Edwin’s lap, because that’d make it impossible for Edwin to keep up the steady movement of his hands up and down Charles' thighs after all. Plus, it’s not like Edwin minds the distance between them, having Charles hovering above him is a beautiful view.

“I suppose it is a unique advantage to have you clothed and yet… so accessible to touch as well.” Abandoning all decorum, Edwin starts stroking his hands up and down Charles’ trousers-clad legs. If he could see Charles, if he was bare, Edwin’s sure he’d be able to observe goosebumps rising on Charles’ skin.

“Yeah and if–” Charles kneads his hands where they’re clutching onto Edwin’s shoulders, seemingly steeling himself for what he’s about to say next. “If I did this–” he carefully drops himself on Edwin’s lap, clearly making a deliberate show out of it. Presses every possible inch of his body right into Edwin and slides down, causing sparks to shoot up Edwin’s core. Once Charles is fully seated on Edwin, he gives a tentative roll of his hips that snaps Edwin’s attention down, right where Charles wants it. “You could fuck me with the skirt still on.”

Although he was the one who started it, Edwin can’t take the teasing anymore, so he dives forward to catch Charles’ lips and devour him with a kiss.

It’s a perfect expression of just how much both of them like the idea of Charles in a skirt. Charles spells his love and trust with his tongue, not giving Edwin a chance to do anything but hold on and let himself be pressed into the backrest of the couch. Electricity zaps through the air, both of them forgetting about technique and finesse and both of them adoring it. Because why focus on anything else than Charles moaning right into Edwin’s mouth and tugging at his blazer like he wants to rip it off?

The sharp cut of Charles’ jawline, his big and capable hands, the way the short hair at the back of his neck feels under Edwin’s fingers - it all represents everything that the world tried to convince Edwin he shouldn’t want. But it all makes the picture of the gorgeous boy writhing in his lap while sucking on Edwin’s bottom lip and Edwin would rather die again than ever be denied this.

He loves the way Charles is always gentle with him, but manhandles him when they both get too riled up. Loves his long and lithe limbs wrapped around him, reminding him of how tall Charles is. Loves the fresh yet slightly musky scent of Charles that Edwin swears still lingers on the boy’s skin.

But there’s also no other word than ‘love’ to describe the feeling when Charles lets Edwin hoist him up on their desk or how bright Charles smiles when Edwin buys him flowers or how soft and breathy his whines turn when Edwin does something particularly right during kissing.

“I thought you wouldn’t be into skirts and you know, girly things?” It’s not really a question, but Charles’ tone ends it as such.

“I am not,” Edwin says and caresses the side of Charles’ darling face, so open and vulnerable under Edwin’s palm. “It is the thought of you in something like that which I find myself so enamored by. Everything about you could never be anything less than lovely and completely devastating to my heart.”

It gets him a frantic kiss that Edwin plans to lose himself in, before Charles leans away again.

“You don’t think it’d be weird? That it’d look– off on me?”

Edwin almost laughs at the notion.

“What a preposterous thought. Of course you will look endlessly beautiful in a skirt, my beloved.” A low groan rips itself from Charles’ throat and his shining eyes have never looked this pleading, this desperate. Edwin suspects he knows what they’re asking for. “My pretty girl.”

[alotofpockets]

Between kicks | Kyra Cooney-Cross x Pregnant!Reader

5k celebration prompt: “Did the baby just kick?”

Warnings: pregnancy, preterm labour, emergency c-section

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.2k

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Pregnancy was a new experience for both you and Kyra. A whole new world opened for the both of you, learning so much from your family and friends who have kids themselves. You were grateful for having so many people around you that helped the two of you on your journey to parenthood, you wouldn’t know what you would be doing without all of their helpful tips and insights.

A few weeks ago you and Kyra had sat down in the room that you were going to convert into the nursery. Discussing what you would like the theme for the room to be. Scrolling through pinterest, showing each other things you liked and disliked. 

“Any colour scheme you’d like to go with?” You had asked Kyra, as you had seen so many ideas that you no longer knew what to look for anymore. Kyra looked around the room, deep in thought about your question. 

“What about green and yellow?” She asked with a hopeful undertone. “Matildas colours?” You asked, and you watched her smile grow. “Yeah, you know since we live here in the UK, maybe it would be nice to have a little bit of my home in the room.” You didn’t need any convincing, but loved the thought she had put behind the choice. “I love it. Green and yellow it is.”

Once your friends had finished painting the room for you, the two of you had taken over again. Kyra was assembling the baby furniture while you were washing and folding all the baby clothes you had bought so far. Neither one of you could stop yourselves when you saw something cute at the store, so you definitely had more than enough clothes already, including a couple baby jersey’s of course.

After another little shirt was folded, you felt something move in your belly. You move your hand to your belly and wait to feel it again. There it was again, a soft kick to your hand. Your eyes welled up, this was the first time you had felt your baby move. “Ky, come here quick!” You said excitedly. 

Kyra rushed to your side. “Is everything okay?” You smiled through the tear that was rolling down your cheek, “Yeah, just wait.” With your free hand, you lift up Kyra’s and lay it down on your belly where you had just felt the baby.

It took a moment, but then you felt it again. “Did the baby just kick?” Kyra asked. Her eyes widen when you nod. “Yeah, I think he likes the room already.” With a content smile your wife looks over the room, “Great taste, little man.” 

The pregnancy was going great, all the appointments went smoothly. Every scan showed a happy and healthy baby, so when the conversation about Kyra’s upcoming national camp came up, you were quick to convince her to go. “Darling, we are perfectly healthy and we still have three months to go before the expected delivery date. Let them know you’re available to go, please.” Kyra had said she shouldn’t go, that she shouldn’t leave you while you were pregnant, but you tried convincing her to go. There was still plenty of time in the pregnancy, and you had enough people around you to help out.

It took a lot of convincing, but eventually she gave in and let the coach know that she would be available for selection. Not soon after her call-up had come. She wanted to leave you completely taken care of, so she prepared everything that she could and made sure there were friends and family there to check up on you.

“I’m going to miss you both so much.” She said as she hugged you goodbye and then knelt down to kiss your belly. “Take care of your mama, little one.” She whispered. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

A week of texts, and quick video calls went by while Kyra was training with the team in Australia. She was constantly checking up on you, to the point where you had jokingly asked Steph who was in the background to confiscate Kyra’s phone so she could focus on her job. It was all out of love though, so you couldn’t really be annoyed at her for caring so much.

You had your mom over for lunch, and she’d stay to watch Kyra’s game with you. She had never cared much for football herself, but grew to love it with every game of Kyra’s you had dragged her to watch with you over the years.

While you were cleaning up after yourselves in the kitchen, all of a sudden you stopped talking mid sentence. Your mom turned around, “What’s that, darling?” She asks, thinking she misheard. But when she turns around she sees the panicked look on your face.

Your right hand is on your lower belly, while with your left you hold onto the counter like your life depends on it. Your knuckles white from how tightly you are gripping it. A sharp pain shoots through your belly, and your mom notices you turning pale. “I’m here, baby.” She steps forwards and helps to hold you up right. 

“Mom, something is wrong.” You say before even noticing that you’re bleeding. It started slowly but then there was a lot of blood. Your mom was quick to help you to the ground and called 911. 

Everything moved so fast. The last thing you faintly remember hearing is “Thirty weeks pregnant, heavy vaginal bleeding, vitals unstable. ETA ten minutes.” Before your eyes drift close.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, the Matildas had just kicked off. It was the first match of international break, and Kyra was excited to get her first touches back with the Matildas. For the first time since she left, she wasn’t worried about you and the baby, her full focus was on football.

Not even ten minutes into the match, Clare Wheeler started warming up. It got some weird looks from the fans in the stadium, and a couple of confused faces on the pitch, but everyone went with it. The coaches knew what they were doing.

The next time that the ball went out of bounds, Clare got up to make the substitution. Kyra heard her name being yelled, and right away she knew something was wrong. She ran to the side and knew her instincts were right when she saw the look in Clare’s eyes as she quickly high fived her.

“Are they okay?” Kyra asked the coach instantly as she stepped off. The coach put an arm around her and guided her into the tunnel instantly. Just getting Kyra away from the crowd. “We just got a call from your mother in law. Y/n is being rushed to the hospital. Right now we don’t know a lot, just that both your wife and the baby need immediate medical attention.”

Kyra’s heart was beating like crazy, this couldn’t be happening while she was on the other side of the world. Why did she let you talk her into going, she should be by your side. “We’ve got you a ticket for the first flight out. If you leave now, they should be able to hold the plane on the ground for you.” 

The coach urged her to move towards the locker room to quickly grab her stuff. While one of the other staff members was getting her car to drive her to the airport. They told her not to worry about the rest of her stuff, that they would send it along with Steph and Caitlin, they just wanted Kyra to be with her family as soon as possible. Especially since the flight was so long. They made sure she got wifi so she could stay updated, and she was taking full advantage of that, constantly checking in with her mother in law. 

It wasn’t until a few hours into the flight that Kyra got the update that you were out of surgery. She read over the message a hundred times. “They’re both okay. She’s out of surgery, and resting now. They had to perform an emergency c-section because the baby was in distress, but your little boy is strong. He is in the NICU being monitored.”

She cursed herself for missing the birth of her baby, but ultimately was grateful that the both of you were doing okay. She wiped away a tear, not wanting to cry in a full plane. Now that she had gotten this update, she knew she had to get some sleep in to make this flight go by faster. She texted your mom to let her know if anything changes, and that she would leave her phone on for any news.

After seemingly the longest flight of her life, Kyra finally arrived back in the Uk and quickly took an Uber to the hospital.

Kyra basically sprinted through the hospital to find your room. When she entered you were sitting up in the bed slightly, still connected to a bunch of monitors and an IV. Tears sprung in her eyes again. Without saying a word she stepped all the way to the side of your bed and hugged you tight. Your mom stepped out of the room to give the two of you a moment. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” Kyra whispered. You smiled at her weakly, “Yeah, me too.” Kyra sat down on the edge of the bed and put her hands on yours. “I should have been here, I’m so sorry that I wasn’t.” You’re quick to shake your head, “Don’t be. Neither one of us knew this was going to happen. The doctor’s said that sometimes it just happens, and there is no underlying reason why. I’m okay and our little man is too, I’m just glad you’re here with us now.” You squeezed her hand lightly.

“I’m sorry you had to miss your match, I know you were looking forward to it.” Kyra chuckled, “I think I will get over that a lot quicker than missing my baby's birth.” To lighten the mood, you added, “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I missed it too. I mean I was there but not consciously.”

“Have you seen him yet?” Your wife asks. “Only through pictures and videos mom showed me. I haven’t been strong enough to head to the NICU until my last check up thirty minutes ago, and since I knew you were close, I wanted to wait and meet our little man together.”

So, that’s what you did. Kyra pushed your wheelchair to the NICU, with your mom in tow, filming every moment. As you rounded the corner, there was a nurse waiting to guide you to your baby. “He’s been waiting to meet his mamas.” She said as you arrived. 

You look into the incubator to see him for the first time. He looked impossibly small, but his chest was rising and falling steadily. He has a few sensors tucked away between the blankets to monitor him, as well as a tiny nasal cannula to help his breathing. But those weren’t the things you were focussing on, your focus was on his perfect little face, his tiny hands gripping the blanket, and his tongue moving around his lips. “He’s perfect.” Kyra whispered in awe.

“Would you like to hold him?” The nurse asked. You didn’t even need a second to think about it, of course you wanted to hold him. 

The nurse carefully took him out of the incubator and adjusted his wires as she laid him into your arms. Everything you had been worried about faded away a little as you got to hold him. You cradled him to your chest, Kyra laying her hand on his back as her forehead was touching yours. 

The already perfect moment became even more perfect when he left out a content sigh. Hearing him like that warmed your heart and made you fall in love with him even more. 

As much as you wanted to keep holding him, the position you had to sit in to do so wasn’t entirely comfortable after your surgery, so it was quickly Kyra’s turn to hold him. She sat down on a chair next to you, and the nurse helped to move him to his other mom.

You reached out your hand to move your finger over his tiny cheek, and then down to his shoulder, arms and his hand. On instinct he wrapped his hand around your finger, bringing out a smile to your face.

“Did you pick out a name yet?” Your mom asks, with her phone still recording the three of you. You and Kyra shared a look, there had been a few on your list that you liked, but the moment that you had seen him, you had known exactly which one you thought best fit him. Kyra nods, and you both turn to your mom again. “Oliver.” You said at the same time, your smile growing that you had the exact same feeling.

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[lowkeyerror]

My Wife, My Everything

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Notes: Requested, established relationship, Rio in the coven, fluff, wedding

Summary: It's been over 300 years it might be time to put a ring on it.

An: 🫣 hey... how yall doing? It's nearly 3 months since my last post, it's also 3am. The inspiration came and died and then i got scared to go the app 🫣 idk if I'm back, but hey

Masterlist | Masterlist 2

It just made sense. That’s what you told yourself when you decided to propose to Agatha. She hadn’t hinted at wanting to get married or pressured you into it, but it had been years. Hundreds of years, that you had been committed to each other. You’d been married over and over if common law had anything to say about it.

You were in the backyard of your house late on night. Simply going down memory lane with each other. Sharing stories and laughter easily. Agatha was looking out at the sky while you were looking at her. The ring box flat in your pocket.

“We should get married,” you had said casually.

“Is this you asking me?” Agatha had an amused tone in her voice.

“Give me second.”

It’s not graceful as you get out of your chair. Her eyes follow you as you get down on one knee. Your hand finds one of hers.

“Are you-?”

She watches carefully as you pull out the ring box from your pocket. It opens, and inside is one of the most beautiful gems Agatha has laid her eyes on. The central diamond sparkles something fierce while the band also gleams.

“I think it’s fair to say that I’ve already made the decision to spend the rest of my life with you. It’s nearly been 3 centuries that we’ve been together.  Which perhaps makes this very long overdue, but neither of us are too keen on good timing. I don’t want to ramble too much. I did have all these things I wanted to say and express, but I think in the simplest terms, it’s just that I’d love to marry you.”

Agatha had tears welling in her eyes, she wiped them away dramatically, “I mean you could ramble a little.”

You roll your eyes but begin speaking nonetheless, “We never really talked about marriage so it never really crossed my mind. Recently though, I’ve been wondering, why not? Why not add, my wife into the vocabulary of all the other things I call you? It’s a new age, it’s perfectly legal. I decided a long time that I wanted forever with you and I'd like to think you want forever with me. This ring is just me doubling down on something I already believe in, us.”

She takes your face in her hands, “You’re taking my last name.”

You surge forward, lips pressing against her’s. Her soft palms feel warm against your face. You melt like it’s the first time you kissed her.

You pull away first a giggle escapes your lips, “I figured that much.”

She pecks your lips once more, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Wedding planning wasn’t something you and Agatha were necessarily good at. However, your coven was more than capable of handling the special day. It wasn’t going to be anything extravagant, just a backyard affair with your closest friends.

Rio handled the flowers, Jen and Billy worked on the set up, Alice was preparing the music, and Lilia would be officiating.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” you look at yourself in your wedding attire.

The classic white color with accents of purple had you smiling.

“About time any longer and I would’ve stolen her back from you,” Rio approaches you from behind.

“Very funny Vidal,” you say dryly.

She turns you to her straightening out your clothes a bit, and fixing a loose strand of your hair. She smiles at you brightly, “There, now you look a little more ready to marry the love of your life.”

“Thank you, Rio. For all your help,” you get sappy with her.

In classic fashion she rolls her eyes, “Don’t go all soft on me. I just want to see my girls happy. Now get out there and make it official after 300 years.”

You go out first, standing to the right of Lilia as your other friends looked on. You couldn't stop the smile on your face waiting for Agatha to walk down the aisle.

Alice begins playing the classic wedding song. Your posture straightens a bit. When you see Agatha in her dress for the first time it knocks the air out of your lungs.

You don’t fight the tears that spill from your eyes. How could you? She was stunning possibly even more than the day you met her.

When she’s directly in front of you, you reach for her hands and she takes yours.

Lilia properly starts the ceremony and when she gets to the vows you’re prepared, but Agatha wants to go first.

“I never thought that someone like me could be afforded a happy ending. The life I lived is far from innocent and pure. It had been an uphill battle for as long as I could remember. Then you came into my life and did something that I didn’t think was possible. You loved me. Despite all of my… flaws, despite my reputation, despite my stubbornness, you loved me. There’s not a second that goes by that I don’t feel your loved wrapped around me. Something like a warm hug shielding me from a snowstorm. It doesn’t seem like enough, but from you it is. I vow to be that for you until my last breath because for over 300 years you’ve been saving me from freezing me to death."

It takes everything in you to keep from sobbing during her voes, your speech forgotten in your brain. You look into her eyes when it’s your turn, speaking from your heart.

“When I proposed I said I didn’t want to ramble, because if I started, I’d never stop. There’s nothing that I don’t love about you Agatha. I love when you scowl at the kids at the mall, I love when you use magic for mundane things like turning the lights on, I love when you hum to yourself while you work, I love when you yell at me for not wearing my glasses. You say that I’ve been saving you, but love, you’ve been saving my ass since the day we met. You quite literally saved me from those hunters, you took me in when you didn’t have to. When everyone was saying it was against your character. Maybe I saved your from freezing, but you’ve saved me from burning myself into the ground. I don’t have anything new to promise you after over 300 years. All I have is the same thing you’ve had since the beginning; my everything.”

There’s not a dry eye in the audience as you two stand across from each other. Tear streaks running down your faces. Even Lilia has to wipe her eyes.

“If anyone has a reason that these two shouldn’t be married, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Rio slowly pretends to raise her hand before Jen smacks her in the back of the head. It earns a chuckle from the audience, everyone knowing it was a joke. It was needed after such intense vows.

 “Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you wife and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Neither of you hesitated. Though you had an audience there was no use in trying to hold back the passion. The vows had charged the moment. With rings on your fingers and tears on your face, you melted into each other.

Applause and boisterous cheers rang out when you parted. When you looked into her eyes it’s as if she was the only person there.

“I love you, my gorgeous, powerful, and brilliant wife,” you can’t help but smile while saying it.

Agatha lets out an endearing laugh, “I love you too. My wife, my everything.”