#So now these two are instant favorites of mine

[suguru-getos]

࿐ husband neuvillette headcanons (f!reader) ࿐

neuvillette, the most respected man in the nation of hydro, more than their archon focalors. he commands respect wherever he goes, his aura still polite, ever so approachable. however, the power of his position cowers people. they are often rendered scared to approach him, some of them literally profusely sweating around his nimble aura.

you, were his wife now, his significant other. someone he cherished more than life itself & someone who made you feel safe, heard, protected. it was said that he was the most sought out bachelor in fontaine before he left his heart for you one day. “break it or keep it. it isn’t mine anymore.” is what he said, when he proposed you. oh the words ring into your ear like the finest melodies till date.

the steambird/ the media was eager to cover everything about the wedding; but to their surprise— neuvillette took you outside fontaine. the city of freedom — monstadt is where you two tied the knot in the presence of a certain, melodious and a high alcohol simp bard.

truth be told, once you were married. there were people who forced false allegations on you. how you manipulated the chief justice into falling in love with you. how you are fake and you act in accordance to his liking to be loved by him. some people even tried to forge false cases against you. all of which— deeply entertained furina. thankfully, neuvillette was never someone to pay attention to any of these things. at one time, he himself fought for you in a false trial. you couldn’t be more thankful.

rains— the legend of hydro dragon weeping causing the rains was famous throughout the country of fontaine. one day, when neuvillette came home a little early, looking distressed, you noticed a harsh, unforgiving thunderstorm drenching the country. you walked towards the terrace, looking up and gently, soothingly whispering. “oh- hydro dragon. please don’t cry.” the rain… lessened. it was as if the intensity had been lessened.

it wasn’t more time until neuvillette confessed to you about him being a hydro dragon. ever since then, whenever there had been rains in fontaine, you make sure to find your beloved husband and hug him tightly, kiss his forehead and tell him everything will be alright. it breaks you apart seeing him like this after all.

sometimes when he comes back home, he always brings your favorite flowers, maybe your favorite desserts, along with a beaming smile only you have seen. people who are aquainted to you often ask if neuvillette being the chief justice and being the most powerful man in fontaine makes your married life difficult. truth is.. it could never. they just haven’t had any access to the good that your beloved dragon holds.

things do get riff-raffy when furina acts a little too childish around him. he pays no attention to her self-centered, self-absorbed behavior but it pinches you how she bothers him for every little thing. once, there was a celebratory banquet held for the same and your displeased face told neuvillette in that very instant — how you’d like the archon to ‘behave’ around your husband. he has been extra careful ever since. <3

your husband might look stern, but he is a soft man. you have witnessed this first hand with how respectfully and tenderly he treats you. on the bad days of your period, the chief justice is nothing but a doting husband for his wifey. you can always be snuggled up to him and cry, or just spend time.

he is a HUGE cuddle bug. would love to destress off work by wrapping his big arms around you and peppering your face with tender kisses. he smells amazing too! always making you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1247 words

series masterlist ; main masterlist

“Oh,” James pauses, his thumb hovering over his screen as he glances at the phone, his expression shifting to one of mild frustration. “It’s work,” he mutters under his breath, his brow furrowing slightly. “I need to take this.”

“That’s alright,” you smile gently. “I’ll take Henry in, and you can meet us in there when you’re done.”

“Are you sure?” James asks, his gaze flicking between you and Henry, who is gripping both straps of his backpack, his glasses slightly askew as he squints curiously at the classroom ahead.

“Yes,” you encourage, taking a sip of the coffee James made for you this morning savoring the warmth. “If you’re quick enough, I don’t think he’ll even notice.” You nod towards Henry, who is intently watching the family ahead of you greet his teacher, his curiosity piqued.

James presses a quick, hurried kiss to your forehead before stepping out of the line and heading off to take the call. Henry’s teacher greets him with warmth, complimenting his glasses and excitedly telling him about the art projects planned for the day. The exchange is brief but effective, and you can see Henry’s nerves begin to ease. He’s been uncertain about school all morning, but you and James have done your best to ease his worries, sharing stories of your own favorite memories from school to get him excited.

You barely finish telling Henry that you’ll meet the other parents before he’s darting forward, his little legs carrying him with surprising speed toward the corner of the room where the toys are. A bittersweet smile tugs at your lips as you watch him seamlessly slip into a group of kids, his small hands eagerly grabbing a toy train. All his earlier fears seem to vanish in an instant, replaced by the gleam of excitement in his eyes. 

At the back of the classroom, a table is set up with an assortment of pastries, a small sign propped up beside them: We know this may be a tough transition, so enjoy a lemon croissant to brighten your day! You smile softly at the gesture, reaching for one of the croissants just as someone else does, your fingers brushing against each other.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” You exclaim, glancing up at a man who looks equally as surprised as you. The pastry is now long forgotten.

“No, no, I’m the one who should be sorry,” the man rushes to say, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment as he offers you a sheepish smile. “I got a bit too excited to finally grab some breakfast and didn’t even notice you there.”

“I get it,” You laugh, holding up your coffee cup. “This is all I had time for this morning.”

“The struggles of being a parent,” he jokes, offering you his hand with a wry smile. “Aaron. My kid’s the one who looks like she’s two seconds away from crying. It’s clearly a big day for her.”

You offer your name, smiling sympathetically at the sight of his daughter, who is taking in the classroom with big, wide eyes. “Mine’s the one with glasses, who is very impatiently waiting for a turn at the train table.”

You spend the next few minutes chatting with Aaron, commiserating over the bittersweet challenge of watching your child start school. You both agree that the teacher seems wonderful—kind, approachable, and genuinely invested in the kids. 

“Daddy,” A sweet, soft voice says. “Nobody wants to be my friend.” You watch with a squeeze in your heart how nervous the little girl, Ella, you learned, looks. Aaron sighs, leaning down to talk to his daughter, and your eyes shift to Henry, who is chatting to anyone willing to listen.

You call his name, and when he glances up, you gesture for him to come over.

“Yeah, mumma?” Henry comes to meet you where you’re bent down, slotting himself into your side as he watches Ella sniffle into her dad’s shoulder.

It doesn’t take long after the introductions for Ella’s tears to dry, replaced by infectious giggles as she and Henry build towering block structures, only to gleefully knock them down again.

“Thank you,” Aaron murmurs, his gaze fixed on Ella, sitting on the floor in front of you both with Henry, before he glances at you. “I wasn’t sure how I’d manage to leave for work knowing she was so upset.”

“It was no problem,” you shrug, your voice soft. “I know today’s been tough.”

You’re so absorbed in watching Henry and Ella that you don’t notice Aaron’s gaze lingering on you, appreciatively taking you in, or how his eyes flick to your left hand, searching for any sign of a ring. But James notices. He’s just barely made it in the door after his call, and the moment his eyes land on you and Aaron, a flicker of something dark passes over his face. His jaw tightens, his posture stiffening as he stands in the doorway, feeling the jealousy pool in his stomach.

Aaron leans in, his proximity crossing into uncomfortable territory—you don’t seem to notice, though—as he points to something across the classroom. James, already tense, steps forward, irritation clear in his movements—he’s had enough of watching someone else make an attempt to flirt with you, and it’s barely been thirty seconds.

“I’m sorry, darling. The call took longer than I expected.” He murmurs, his arm slipping around your waist. The warmth in his voice makes your face brighten, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

“That’s alright.” You murmur, that lovestruck look settling on your face as you gaze at him. For a brief moment, you forget that you were in the middle of a conversation, so distracted by the feeling of James’ touch.

“Oh! This is Aaron—his daughter Ella is playing with Henry.” You gesture toward Ella before flashing Aaron a smile. “And this is James—”

“—Her husband.” James interjects, his tone sharp as he extends his hand. Your jaw drops in surprise as you turn to him, shock written across your face.

Aaron hesitates for a moment, then takes James’ hand, his expression unreadable. “Nice to meet you, mate,” he says, his voice steady, though there’s an uncomfortable edge to it.

A few minutes of brief conversation pass, and it’s clear Aaron isn’t nearly as warm with James present as he was when it was just you. Sensing the tension, you feel a wave of relief when the teacher announces it’s time for parents to say their goodbyes and head out. You and James shower Henry with kisses and smother him in hugs, reluctant to let him go, before finally saying your goodbyes.

James hopes you’ve forgotten his jealous remark, but as soon as you get in the car, you turn to him, shaking your head with an amused smile.

“My husband? How will you explain that when he finds out you lied?” You snort, glancing expectantly at James.

“Listen, love,” he starts, his tone defensive, “you should’ve seen the way he was looking at you. He checked if you were wearing a ring!”

“I don’t care,” you reply, buckling yourself in with a soft, sincere smile. “The only man I care about is you.” You hum playfully, adding, “Even if he did kind of look like you.”

James scoffs, his eyes flicking to you. “He absolutely did not,” he mutters, his tone defensive. “I’m way better looking.”When you don’t respond, he glances at you again, a hint of panic creeping in. “Right?”

please please please consider reblogging and/or commenting. it keeps me motivated to continue writing and reblogging spreads my work 🤍

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Beloved Mine

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: Sam sends out an SOS that Bucky isn't in the best mood, so you see him to ease his mind.

Sammy: SOS. he's in a bad mood!

You read over Sam's text and snort. You quickly type out a reply and start to change from your pjs to some appropriate clothing.

On your way to Bucky's, you stopped by his favorite bakery, grabbing his favorite baked goods as well as a wide variety for his people. You also grabbed him a coffee and a drink for you as well.

Sammy: He almost shot the new guy in the foot. Please tell me you're on your way.

You: ETA 10 minutes.

Sammy: THANK GOD.

You giggle and continue to drive to Bucky's family mansion. At the gate, the security guard takes one look at you and immediately lets you in. You give him a pastry in gratitude before driving up the long gravel driveway.

You park beside Sam's car and hop out. The man at the door nods at you, opening the door wide for you to step in. You also hand him a pastry with a smile.

You head towards the back of the house where you hear a familiar, loud distant voice.

The closer you get, the louder the voice. You push through some of the men spilling out of the room until you're inside.

"-HOW MANY FUCKING MEN DO I GOTTA LOSE TO-honey?"

All eyes land to you. You give a sheepish wave, "Hi, sorry, is this a bad time?" You know it is but you feign ignorance.

Bucky sighs, running his hand through his brunette locks, "Just finishing up a meeting."

"Oh, I can wait-"

"No, no. It's fine. Think they all had enough of my shouting," he waves his hand, "Leave, you fuckers!" most of the people scurry out in an instant, not wanting to wait and see if Bucky changes his mind. A small group stay behind, Bucky's closest friends and confidants: Sam, Joaquin, Yelena, and Nat.

You approach them, setting yours and Bucky's drinks in front of him. You open the pastry box in your hands and hold it out to the four, "Take your pick!"

"You're Heaven sent!" Sam exclaims as he grabs a donut and shoots you a wink. You give him a smirk and a nod.

Joaquin grabs a danish, practically stuffing the entire thing in his mouth.

"Did you eat today, Joaquin?"

He shakes his head as he continues to chew the danish. You lift the box higher, "Take as much as you want."

He gives you a grin as he grabs two more pastries and follows Sam out the door.

"Ladies?"

"I'm good," Nat says with a shake of her head in decline.

"Hell yeah, donuts!" Yelena exclaims as she grabs the glazed twists. She hums in delight as she takes a bite, "Thanks, Y/N!"

You chuckle, "You're welcome, Lena."

The two women look to Bucky to see if he needed anything else. Bucky sips his coffee and waves them off and the two file out the door, closing it behind them.

You turn back to Bucky, "Yours are at the bottom," you place the pastry box in front of him.

Bucky's eyes narrow at you, a hint of a smirk on his lips, "Who called you?"

"No one called me."

"So if I check your phone-"

"Technically, Sam texted me. He didn't call me."

Bucky scoffs and shakes his head, "Of course he did."

You walk over to the other side of his desk. He leans back in his chair and you sit on his arm rest, "Bad day?" You begin to run your fingers through his hair and he leans into your touch with a sigh, "Another shipment got intercepted. We lost some guys."

"'M sorry, baby."

"I'm getting real fucking tired of Hydra. And none of my people can find shit out! Anytime they snag one of their guys, they kill themselves before we get any answers. Fucking cowards."

You wrap your arms around Bucky's bulking frame, "You'll figure it out. You always do. Besides, I'm sure Lena and Nat have something cooking, right?"

"Supposedly, but they won't tell me what yet. They're trying to iron out the details."

"Just let them handle it in the meantime. Now, how about a treat?" you grab one of the pastries that you know he loves and he takes a bite. He moans at the taste and his shoulders drop in relief.

He washes it down with his coffee and he looks at you with shining blue eyes, "You really know how to make a guy feel loved, honey."

You giggle, and wipe some crumbs off his chubby cheeks, "Well, duh, I do love you," you peck his lips, "Ease up on everyone, will ya? I know things are tense, but they're all doing the best they can. You can't afford to lose more people."

He slowly nods, "You're right. Fuck, you know, maybe you should step down and take over, hm?"

You throw your head back and laugh, "Oh, please, I'd run your family into the ground! No one would listen to me-"

"Baby, a majority of my people listen to you already."

"...I don't know how to lead people or how the inner workings of all this," you gesture around you, "goes."

Bucky shrugs, "I can teach you. Besides," he takes your left hand, thumb grazing over the diamond ring on your finger, "you should start learning some things anyway."

"Let me just live in ignorant bliss until after the wedding, Barnes," you pat his plump cheeks and he grins at you, eyes soft and full of love.

[baby-yongbok]

Mine - Kim Seungmin x afab!Reader

Genre: Smut Drabble/ Hard Thought - MDNI Word Count: 672

Warnings: Degradation, cursing A/N: My head is spinning right now, I found out that there are BDSM muzzles. (I'm buying one immediately) and then I thought about Seungmin saying that he should muzzle you and it all went down hill from there. I might turn this into a longer fic eventually idk but my brain was rotting with this thought. ✧ Masterlist ✧

Thinking about how Seungmin would act when he finds out that you, his best friend, has a Twitter account dedicated to posting lewd photos and videos of yourself. You told him about it on a whim while the two of you were watching a movie on your couch and before you knew it he was scrolling down your shared media. A small grin on his face as he watches a video of you fucking some guy you hooked up with on a random night out. 

"You think this was good?" He'd look over at you with an expression so serious that you couldn't tell if he really wanted an answer to his question "I could fuck you way better than this" 

That's how you ended up with your back against his chest as the two of you sat on your couch. Your legs spread open and your exposed pussy on display to your best friend. "You must really be a slut, huh?" His fingers would trail light circles around your clit, teasing you so slowly that it made your head spin. You whine for more, bucking your hips up into his hand. 

"Do you just let any guy have access to this pretty pussy? And you're so fucking needy too. You want more?" He was inside of you in an instant, filling you up mercilessly and fucking into you like you belonged to him. He was right when he said that he could fuck you better, you could feel that delicious knot in your stomach as soon as he started fucking into your g-spot at the perfect angle. 

“Look at you, my dumb mutt is drooling. Is my cock so good that you need to make a fucking mess?” Yes, it is that good, you find yourself babbling as he fucks you harder. It’s so much but you keep asking for more and he keeps giving. His new favorite thing is watching you fall apart on his cock. He never would’ve thought that his sweet and innocent best friend could be so lewd. It was all an act. 

He’d laugh when you beg him to fuck you harder, landing a bruising slap on your ass as he rams into you. “You want more? Don’t run from it, pup you just asked for this.” He’d pull out right when you announce that you’re close and turn you around, propping your legs up over his shoulders so that he can reach spots that he couldn’t before. Your moans and cries drown out the sound of skin slapping and Seungmin’s own grunts of pleasure. He’d rub your clit to edge you a bit then stick those arousal covered digits in your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Shut the fuck up, such a noisy bitch. I should muzzle you.”  He smiles when you clench around him, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’d fucking like that wouldn’t you? You want me to fucking gag you? Such a slut.”

He’d get a bit sweeter when he gets close to finishing, he’d praise you with each sloppy thrust. Kissing your calves and sucking and nipping bruises into your ankle. You unravel as soon as his fingers brush against your clit, shaking underneath him and chanting his name like he created your entire universe. “Oh fuck oh fuck you’re so pretty when you cum, baby. That’s it.” 

He’d fall apart shortly after, the image of your eyes rolling back as you came around him throws him over the edge. He covers you in his sticky release with his head thrown back and his chest rising and falling violently. “So perfect, so fucking perfect.” He can’t get the image of you out of his head as he empties his balls. He’s going to need more of you immediately. He leans over and gives you a quick peck on the lips. He looks you in the eye with a sweet yet serious expression. 

“Mine, okay?” You nod your head with a fucked out smile and he kisses you again. “That’s my girl.”

[baekhyunsbestie]

──★ ALL MINE ˙🌷͙֒ ̟ !!

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 sum: it's been months since you cut ties with your bff-turned-fwb. now, you’re stuck with a new guy who’s a total fucking letdown in the bedroom. but there’s no way you’re telling your bestie baekhyun that embarrassing detail, right? WRONG. you guys share everything. and of course, baekhyun won't stop teasing you about it—especially after another disastrous date. just when you've hit your limit, you come home to find him rummaging through the pantry, snacking like he runs the place. but don't worry, he's here to make it up to you!!!!! and by "make it up to you," i mean help release all of your pent-up sexual frustration, because that's what besties do, right? …right?!

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 content: 18+/MDNI. 8.5k+ words. baekhyun x f!reader. no specified age, but i'd say they're somewhere in their early-to-mid 20’s cus i can only imagine people w/o fully developed frontal lobes behaving this way, respectfully 😭🙂‍↕️ bff's to fwb's to bff's again to strangers to lovers. fluff, angst, and it ain’t a baekhyunsbestie fic if it don’t got some good ol’ nasty smuuuttttt. pet names, praise kink, cheating, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie after creampie after creampie (baekhyun deffo has breeder balls, don’t @ me), overstimulation (both f + m). you both are just two big meanie idiots who are in love with each other.

your phone lights up with a ping, the glow illuminating your face as baekhyun’s text pops up on the screen: 

✶bestie baekhyun!!!✶

aaawwww, is that your little boyfriend who can’t make you cum??? you guys are so cute together!

attached is a screenshot of your recent instagram story— you and your latest fling cozied up at a movie date earlier this evening. a date that ended with you unsatisfied, yet again. 

your gaze drifts across the room. baekhyun, lounging on the couch, meets your eyes with that signature, shit-eating grin plastered on his face. the one that makes your eye twitch in instant irritation. he’s enjoying this way too much and you want to pummel him into the ground. 

it’s been a week since you let your embarrassing little secret slip—your boyfriend can’t make you cum. and now, for seven agonizing days, your infuriating best friend has been toying with that knowledge like it’s his new favorite game. poking at your frustration with every sly comment, every teasing smirk.

you’re seething, and sexually frustrated, wound tight and ready to fucking snap. baekhyun knows exactly what he’s doing, pushing your buttons like only he can, and you’re not sure if you want to punch him or let him finish what your boyfriend never could.

it’s your bi-weekly hangout with your friend group—same old routine: catching up over movies, playing drinking games, maybe getting high, with mindless banter and a sea of snacks. the aroma of freshly baked cookies mingles with the air as you wait for takeout to arrive. you're surrounded by your closest friends, laughing, relaxed. but beneath the surface, you’re a storm waiting to break. every fiber of your being wants to blow up at him, but you can’t. no one knows about the “friends-with-benefits” situation that crashed and burned a few months ago, and you'd be damned if they found out. it would wreck the entire dynamic, fill the room with awkward tension, and you're not about to let that happen.

it lasted as long as it could before you realized you were starting to catch feelings— which definitely wasn’t part of the deal. you couldn’t admit that to him, though. no way, it’d be too embarrassing. you’d wreck the years of friendship that you have between you. so instead, you lied. you told him you were interested in seeing someone and wanted to give it a real shot.

one of your coworkers had been persistent about taking you out, and eventually, you gave in. he was great—amazing, even. a real charmer, with looks that could stop traffic, a sharp sense of humor, and a surprising attentiveness that made him seem like the total package. except for one small detail: he couldn’t take you to that edge, couldn’t push you past the brink where pleasure turns into toe-curling bliss. you tried to tell yourself that, with time and patience, he could learn. maybe, with a few more pointers, he’d figure out how to unravel you, bit by bit. 

but the truth is, you don’t want to have to teach someone all over again. not when there’s someone who already knows every inch of your body, someone whose touch leaves you trembling without needing a single word. baekhyun. he’s the one who knows exactly where to touch, where to linger, how to make you drip with nothing but a glance or the graze of his fingers.

but, of course, it’s never that simple. because baekhyun is your best friend, and as much as you wish he could see you in the same way, he doesn’t—or at least, not in the way you need him to. and even though your boyfriend has been nothing but sweet and patient these past few months, the connection just isn’t there. the attraction feels muted, like a faded echo of what it should be.

it leaves you simmering with a frustration you can’t admit out loud, the kind that gnaws at you from the inside, bubbling just beneath the surface, waiting for the smallest crack to spill over and consume you. you’ve been holding it together for so long, but every time you’re near baekhyun, every casual brush of his skin against yours, it pushes you closer to the edge. and you don’t know how much longer you can keep pretending. how much longer you can keep this act going, knowing that the one person you truly want is right there, just out of reach.

suddenly overwhelmed and no longer in the mood for the night’s festivities, thanks to baekhyun, you decided to slip away quietly. feigning a tired smile, you excused yourself, blaming it on the onset of a cold you claimed was creeping up on you.

as you got up and gathered your things, slipping on your sweater to shield yourself from the chilly october evening, baekhyun let out an exaggerated yawn and announced he was heading out as well, drawing boos and groans from your friends that both of you were leaving. 

feeling the walls close in, you rush to the door, needing to escape and breathe. your hands fumble to slip on your shoes, heart racing, fingers already gripping the cool metal of the doorknob. just as you’re about to turn it, baekhyun’s voice stops you, smooth but firm. "hey, let me take you home." his presence lingers behind you, his words almost a plea, warm and insistent.

without meeting his gaze, you replied coldly, “no, i’m fine. i’d rather walk,” waving him off dismissively. “goodnight, baekhyun.”

“w-wait!” he called out, but you were already closing the door in his face. you pulled your bag over your shoulder and tugged your sweater tighter around your neck, bracing against the crisp fall air.

your apartment was only a few blocks away, an easy ten-minute walk on most nights, but tonight, you lingered. every step was slower, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you wandered the quiet streets. you needed the extra time, the space to think about the growing weight of your situation. 

your thoughts drifted to your boyfriend—should you break up with him? the idea gnawed at you. you even reached for your phone, fingers hovering over his name, but the words refused to come. how could you explain that nothing he did ever truly satisfied you? that every time, you had to guide him, instruct him, tell him how to touch you, how to kiss you. his attempts never stirred anything deep inside, and when he fucked you, it was mechanical—passionless, almost empty.

he wasn’t like baekhyun.

with baekhyun, you never had to say a word. he knew your body instinctively, knew how to make you unravel without asking. he never needed guidance to make you cum; it was as natural as breathing for him.

you approached your apartment complex, the weight of your unresolved dilemma still pressing heavily on your mind—caught between trying to make things work with your boyfriend and the tangled, confusing feelings you had for baekhyun. your shoulders slumped as your head hung low, chin brushing against your chest, your eyes tracing the cracks in the pavement. the world around you felt muted, distant, like you were moving through a fog, everything blurred and out of focus.

with a swift punch of the door code, the lock beeped softly, and the door groaned open. but before you could step inside, your breath caught in your throat. there, by the entrance, sat a pair of men’s shoes—worn but familiar, ones you couldn’t possibly mistake. they rested neatly by the door, as if they had been waiting for you, like he had been waiting for you.

a tired sigh slipped from your lips, recognition sinking into your chest. you didn’t need to look any further to know who was already inside.

you were hoping for a moment of solitude to finish gathering your thoughts, but there he was—baekhyun, rummaging through your pantry, helping himself to your snacks.

“baekhyun, what are you doing here?” you ask, voice laced with surprise and slight irritation. 

it’s not like his presence is unusual—he’s your best friend after all. he used to drop by unannounced all the time, making himself at home as if your space was his own. he’d lounge on your couch, rummage through your fridge, and sometimes, without a word, he'd settle next to you for hours. but since you both called off your little "arrangement," those random visits had stopped completely. maybe it was because there was no longer that unspoken pull drawing him to your bed, or maybe—for once—he was trying to give you some space.

but let’s be real—baekhyun doesn’t know the meaning of personal space, especially when it comes to you. and little did you know, it’s not respect for your privacy that keeps him away. no, it’s because he can’t bear the thought of walking in and potentially finding you with someone else. the idea of seeing you with your new boyfriend—his hands where baekhyun’s used to be—would kill him. he’s already imagined it a hundred times, and each time, the image is enough to make him want to gouge his eyes out.

he peeks out from behind the pantry door, a bag of chips in his grip, he grinned. “oh, hey! you’re finally here.” he stuffed a few chips into his mouth, his voice muffled. “y’seemed a bit out of it, so i wanted to make sure you were okay.” with a playful poke to your cheek, causing you to grimace. “shoulda just let me drive ya home, cupcake. i’ve been here for like ten minutes already.”

"cupcake." the nickname pulls you into a warm memory from childhood. you and baekhyun, determined to bake cupcakes for a school event, laughed as flour flew everywhere, turning the kitchen into a playful disaster. your moms watched in horror as you two struggled with the instructions, but when the cupcakes came out, you both beamed with pride—baekhyun mostly for the fun. at the event, you eagerly awaited your friends' reactions to your creations, excitement bubbling inside you. but when they announced their preference for another girl’s cupcakes—sparkling with glittery frosting—your heart sank. yours and baekhyun’s looked so plain in comparison. heartbroken, you ran off, only for him to find you, comforting you with a gentle pat on the head, "you’re my favorite, cupcake." he gently wiped away your tears as you choked out a trembling, "promise?" between your sobs. “mhm! promise,” and in that moment, he wrapped his pinky with yours, and with a playful press of your thumbs, you stamped it with sincerity. fifteen years later, the nickname still clings to you like the sweetest frosting.

"'m fine, really," you lied, your voice barely steady as your eyes darted away from his. you leaned against the kitchen island, elbows digging into the cool surface, pressing your forehead into your palms. no matter how you tried to mask it, the stiffness in your frame exposed the truth, even as you tried to keep your tone light. "’m just... not feeling well, that's all."

you’re stuck in the middle, torn between what feels safe and what feels right. you keep telling yourself that making it work with your boyfriend is the better option—after all, you’re terrified of losing baekhyun as your best friend. but a part of you knows, deep down, that things between you and baekhyun aren’t the same anymore. ever since you became friends with benefits, something shifted, something fragile that you’re afraid to acknowledge. 

you can’t let yourself believe baekhyun could feel something deeper for you. it’s easier to stay in denial than face the possibility that the guy you’ve been so close to, the one who knows you inside out, might actually want more. maybe it’s because you’re scared—scared of ruining the friendship that’s been your constant, the one thing you can always rely on. so, you push down the thoughts, shove aside the feelings, and try to make things work with your boyfriend. but you know you’re unsatisfied. emotionally, physically—it’s not enough. yet, you cling to it, because you think it’s better to have a relationship that’s functional rather than risk something that might fall apart. 

but baekhyun… with him, it’s different. you never have to try. things just fall into place with him, naturally, effortlessly. it feels so right—too right—and maybe that’s what terrifies you. being with him feels easy, like slipping into something that was always meant to be, and that scares you more than anything. what if you let yourself fall for him and everything changes? what if you lose him completely, not just as a lover but as your best friend? 

you don’t know what you want. you can’t figure out if you should stay with your boyfriend just to avoid the risk of losing baekhyun, or if you should give in to the way you feel toward him. deep down, you know what you want, but you can’t bring yourself to admit it. it’s the fear that stops you—the fear of losing control, of opening up to something real, of being vulnerable with someone who’s already seen all your cracks.

but how long can you pretend? how long can you stay in a relationship that leaves you empty, just because it’s safer than taking a chance? maybe what you’re really scared of isn’t losing baekhyun. maybe it’s the idea that being with him feels too perfect, too right, and that kind of happiness is something you don’t know how to handle. but sooner or later, you’ll have to make a choice—stay in a relationship that drains you, or risk everything for something that makes you feel alive.

but you’d deal with that headache another day.

his fingers curl around your arm, firm but not forceful, spinning you to face him. the movement is swift, catching you off guard, and you stumble slightly before his gaze locks with yours. “is this about my text earlier?” his voice is playful, but there’s an edge beneath the tease. “i’m sooooo sorry for teasing about your loser boyfriend, the one ya clearly don’t have any romantic feelings for,” he says, each word dripping with mockery.

“you’re such an ass, y’know that?” you want to yell at him, to snap back with something cutting, to defend your relationship like it actually means something. you want to push him out the door and slam it behind him, pretend that this tension between you doesn’t exist.

but you can’t. because baekhyun’s right. and even now, with him standing just inches away, you feel more electricity between you than you ever have with your boyfriend. the way he looks at you, the way the air between you thickens—it’s undeniable. infuriatingly so.

the atmosphere shifts, charged with something far more dangerous. his voice softens, but the playful glint in his eyes doesn’t fade. “finefinefine. ’m sorry, f’real, cupcake. hate seeing ya upset cus of me. how ‘bout i make it up to you, hmm?” his words are smooth, each one laced with a promise. “i can help ya forget all about your little boyfriend.”

the word lingers between you, thick with implication. you shift on your feet, heart racing. “well…i—i don’t know,” you stammer, your gaze falling to the floor. you can’t look at him. if you do, he’ll see it—the flicker of hope, the unspoken longing. you’ve tried so hard to bury it, to keep it hidden, but in moments like this, it threatens to spill out.

his fingers loosen slightly on your arm, but he doesn’t let go. instead, his thumb is rubbing circles, the gentle caress making it harder for you to keep it together. “i don’t know what i want,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. you’re not even sure if you’re convincing yourself or him. all you know is that if you meet his eyes, he’ll likely see everything you’ve been trying to deny: the truth that maybe you don’t want your boyfriend at all. maybe you’ve wanted baekhyun all along.

your eyes are glued to the floor and your trying your hardest to suppress the rising heat in your chest. his fingers slide from your arm up to your chin, gently tilting your face toward him. his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, a gesture that sends a rush of heat through your body, making it impossible to think straight.

“look at me,” he whispers, his voice low and almost dangerous. slowly, your gaze lifts to meet his. “i don’t believe you,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. his eyes drop briefly to your mouth before returning to yours, darker now. “i think you do know what you want.”

suddenly his body is pressing into yours, the warmth radiating from him almost overwhelming. his hand slides up, cradling your neck, fingers gentle yet possessive, his thumb brushing along your jawline. your breath hitches as he leans in, lips hovering so close to yours you can feel his breath.

“baekhyun….w-we really shouldn’t…” you stammer, the words tumbling out in a weak attempt to stop what you know is inevitable. but your body doesn’t qute get the memo with the way you’re leaning into him, craving his touch.

“tell me to stop, then,” he whispers, lips brushing yours, his voice coarse with challenge. his eyes are locked onto yours, daring you to say it. to push him away.

but you can’t. every nerve in your body is screaming for more—for him. all the frustration from your boyfriend, the disappointment in every failed touch, every unsatisfying kiss—it all crashes over you at once. and baekhyun… baekhyun is standing right here, so close, so familiar. you miss him. you miss the way his lips felt on yours, the way his hands knew exactly where to touch you, the way he could unravel you in seconds.

you can’t tell him to stop. not when you want him this badly.

your lips part in a breath, and that’s all the invitation he needs. his mouth crashes onto yours, the kiss full of urgency and raw, unrestrained need. his lips move against yours in perfect sync, fierce yet deliberate, like he’s pouring everything into this one moment. his tongue brushes against yours, coaxing a soft whimper from your throat, and his hand tightens slightly around your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

he groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, and it’s like all the pent-up frustration you’ve been harboring melts away in an instant. all you can feel is baekhyun, his lips claiming yours, his body pressing you back against the wall with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

“i’ve missed this,” he mutters between kisses, his lips barely leaving yours. “missed you.”

your hands tangle in his shirt, pulling him closer, needing him like never before. it’s not just the kiss—it’s everything you’ve been holding back, everything you’ve denied yourself. and now, here he is, reminding you of exactly what you’ve been craving.

when he finally pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his forehead resting against yours, you’re both panting, chests heaving. “see, cupcake?” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “you know exactly what you want.”

before you can respond, his lips are on yours again, fiercer this time, as if the mere thought of stopping is unthinkable. the kiss deepens, every inch of him pressing closer, until he’s got you in your room and on your bed, pinned beneath him. his body moves instinctively, shifting behind you, and within seconds, you feel him slide into you from behind, achingly slow at first. but the second he bottoms out, something shifts. a low groan rumbles from deep in his chest, vibrating against your skin. he doesn’t even wait for you to adjust, he loses all control, thrusting with raw, feral intensity. his chest is flush against your back, the heat of his body overwhelming as your face presses into the pillow, muffling the broken moans spilling from your lips as you bite into the fabric, trying to hold on for dear life.

each relentless thrust from baekhyun feels like it’s stealing the very breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping for air. his movements are unyielding, almost desperate, as if he’s trying to reclaim every second of the time you’ve spent apart, making up for the last few months he couldn’t have you like this. 

the sheets twist tightly in your fists, but no matter how hard you cling to them, it’s impossible to ground yourself—he’s pulling you deeper into the intoxicating blur of sensation. his pace is feral, his hips slamming into yours with an intensity that borders on overwhelming. 

baekhyun moans, the sound rough and guttural, fueling the fire building inside you. his hands grip your thighs, possessive and firm, as he drives into you with a force that makes your entire body quake. the heady mix of sensation has you floating, completely consumed by him, by the way he moves, as if he’s trying to burn this moment into your skin, into your memory. each thrust pushes you closer to that edge, where all you can feel, all you can think about, is him.

his voice cuts through the haze—deep, raspy. "look at my pretty little angel... i’ve missed watching you fall apart for me." his words, tainted with hunger, ignite something in you. but you can’t find it in you to respond, not with the way he’s driving you to the edge. 

his fingers sink into your hips, firm and punishing, and you know for certain that bruises will manifest if he keeps this up. each grip imprints on your skin, marking you as if he’s claiming you as his own. and you revel in it—every deliciously painful second. there’s something intoxicating about witnessing him completely lost, consumed by his need for you, making you feel more desired than ever before. 

his breath is hot against your ear as he growls, "you're all mine, aren’t ya, cupcake?"

you can barely find your voice, breathless and overwhelmed, but somehow you manage to gasp out, "y-yes... all yours." how could you ever belong to anyone else when he's driving into you with such raw intensity, each thrust relentless, pushing you deeper into the mattress?

"yours," you repeat, the truth sinking in. you always have been. you never stopped. 

baekhyun’s grip tightens at your affirmation, his pace quickening in response—he liked your answer. it’s clear in the way he devours you, body and soul. he’s using you like his personal plaything, his touch both possessive and unrelenting. but it’s the sounds spilling from his lips that keep you tethered to reality—reminding you that it’s still him. baekhyun. your baekhyun.

"baek," you whimper, voice shaky, barely audible over the sounds of your bodies moving in sync. he doesn’t respond right away, too lost in the pleasure rippling through him, but you see it—the way his eyes flicker open, wild and dark, his gaze locking onto yours. a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, but it’s not his usual playful grin. this one is predatory, dangerous.

“what’s wrong, cupcake?” he rasps, his voice dripping with amusement, though there's something almost menacing in the way he says it. "can’t—nnngghhh—handle it?"

your breath hitches, and the words you want to say cling to your tongue, refusing to come free. all you can manage is a faint nod, a fragile acknowledgment of the moment. he leans in closer, his lips grazing the delicate curve of your ear. his voice, a low whisper, dancing across your skin.

"good," he purrs, his voice now a deep, velvety growl. "cus i don’t think i can stop fucking this pretty pussy. fuck—i think she missed me." 

what feels like hours later, after countless orgasms brought forth by his mouth and the myriad of ways he’s taken you, the sight before you is nothing short of devastating. baekhyun has already came inside you twice, and now, poised on the brink of losing himself again in a mean mating press, he looks utterly wrecked. strands of damp hair cling to his forehead, dark and slick with sweat, framing a face flushed with feverish desire. a deep crimson blooms across his cheeks, spilling down the bridge of his nose like a painting. his bottom lip is pinched between his teeth, the skin pale from the pressure, while his gaze—dark, ravenous, and locked on the intimate connection of your bodies.

the way his eyes feast on you sends a shiver racing down your spine, igniting a deep ache that only he can soothe. he trembles with barely contained desire, his body quaking with the need to claim you all over again, while you teeter on the edge, overwhelmed and craving more. before you know it, he’s flipping you back onto your stomach, pulling your hips up to meet his as your face and the upper half of your body sink into the mattress, the sheets slick with your sweat and juices.

his tip glides teasingly over your entrance, and you instinctively flinch away from the sensitivity, heart racing. 

"nonono, cupcake, don’t do that," baekhyun’s voice rumbles, low and commanding, sending another jolt through you. his hands are firm as they guide your hips back against his waist, grip tightening, muscles flexing as he holds you in place. "run away from me again, and i’ll make it so ya can’t walk." 

"p-please, baekhyun," you whine.

a deep chuckle vibrates through his chest, sending a shiver rippling down your spine. goosebumps rise, and baekhyun notices—he always notices—his hands roaming, possessive, over every inch of your trembling body. "uh-uh," his voice rough with lust, "you’re gonna take every last drop.”

his hips surge forward, harder, deeper, and his eyes flicker up to meet yours. there's a flicker of something wild in them, raw. 

“fuck, you’re s-so perfect. so perfect for me,” he growls, voice low and ragged, and it shoots straight through you, making your insides coil in response. “y’feel that, cupcake? how close i am?” his tone is a little desperate now, his restraint slipping as he fights to keep control. but you can see it—the need, the hunger that threatens to consume him.

another thrust, brutal, claiming, sends you spiraling, and you feel him everywhere. your breath hitches, and you know he can feel it too, how tightly you’re holding him inside, the way your body swallows him tells him just how much you want him—more than words ever could.

a hiss escapes him, sharp and guttural, his teeth gritting as he barely holds on. “you’re so tight—fuck—i’m gonna–ngh–fill you up again. you’re gonna take it all, aren’t ya? isn’t that right, my girl?” his voice is almost pleading now, the desperation to spill into you driving him mad. and when his thrusts grow erratic, each one landing deeper than the last, you know he’s close to breaking, just as you are. 

it’s intoxicating, watching him unravel before you, the way his chest rises and falls erratically, every ragged breath he takes feeding into your own desire. at the sound of his name slipping from your lips—soft, and pleading—he finally tears his gaze from the mess he's made of you.

his eyes, dark and glazed over, meet yours, and there’s the faintest hint of a smile on his lips, but it’s strained, barely there. he doesn’t slow. if anything, he pushes harder, deeper, the rhythm relentless. sweat drips from his temple, tracing down his cheek, but he doesn’t even notice. his focus is singular, entirely consumed by you—by the way your body trembles, how your fingers grip onto the sheets, like a lifeline.

"say it again," he breathes, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper, but you hear the urgency in it. "say my name."

you bite your lip, trying to hold back, but the intensity of his gaze—it undoes you. your eyes meet his, tear-filled and hazy, and you see the way his own eyes flicker, like he’s losing whatever control he had left.

and it’s the way your soft, pouty lips quiver as they whisper his name that gets him there, how your brows are knit together in an innocent plea while your eyes gaze up at him, brimming with love and vulnerability.

his jaw clenches, and he lets out a deep, guttural sound, so raw it sends shivers through you. he lowers his forehead to your back, his breath hot against your skin.

"holy–fuck—," he hisses through gritted teeth, his hand tightening on your waist, like he’s afraid to let go. his hips stutter before slamming forward, burying himself deep inside you one final time. his orgasm crashes over him like a violent wave, dragging him under. the guttural moan that escapes his lips is raw, primal, and he knows he’ll be embarrassed about it later, but in this moment, it’s beyond his control.

you feel the tremor in his body as he shudders against you, his skin flushed, slick with sweat, while his cock pulses inside you. his balls tighten and twitch, spilling hot and thick, the sensation drawing a gasping whimper from your own throat. his breath is erratic, each inhale a desperate gulp.

baekhyun lowers himself until his chest is pressed against your back, the weight of his body sinking into you, his lips brushing your ear as he pants, "you... you feel too fucking good. how do you... how do ya do this to me?" his voice is shaky, barely a whisper as his hands continue to clutch you, desperate, possessive.

you murmur something incoherent in response, your own mind foggy with aftershocks, but all you can focus on is the way he trembles against you. his forehead presses against back, and you feel him trying to steady his breath, his heart racing like he’s just run a marathon.

“goddamn,” he breathes, the words more for himself than for you, voice thick with awe. "i’m never… getting enough of this. never gonna get enough of you."

his body lingers against yours, the air still heavy with the remnants of pleasure. even as the sharp edge of your climax begins to dull, you can feel the way his hands stay locked on your skin, like he’s afraid to let go, fingers tracing invisible patterns over your waist as if committing every inch of you to memory. there's a yearning in his touch, a silent desperation that clings to the moment, stretching it out.

you pretend not to notice. you can’t let yourself notice. feeding into that fantasy, that he could want more than this—more than just the heat between your bodies—would be a mistake. he’s your best friend, and that’s all this is. two best friends tangled in each other, using one another to satisfy a need. nothing more, nothing deeper.

it couldn’t be.

the air in the room feels heavy, thick with something unspoken. at least that’s what it feels like to baekhyun, like a weight pressing down on his chest. as he’s silently pulling his clothes back on, he’s stuck in his head, running over the same thought again and again: how badly he wants to ask you to leave your boyfriend. he wants to beg you to give him a real chance. because you and him? you just fit. 

it makes so much sense in his mind—you should know it too, right? i mean, the synergy between you two is undeniable—the way you connect, how effortlessly you bounce off each other, both physically and emotionally. no one gets his humor the way you do, no one reads him so instinctively, and no one fits him quite like you. you’re each other’s perfect match, and he feels it in every fiber of his being. what could be better than being in a committed relationship with your best friend, someone who already knows you inside and out?

he hesitates, throwing his shirt on as you rummage through your closet, probably looking for something more comfortable now that you’re home. his voice breaks the silence, casual but laced with a tinge of hope. “soooo... are you gonna break up with, uh, what’s-his-name?”

you pause, turning around with a look of genuine confusion on your face. “huh? oh—hmm, no. at least, not just yet... maybe i should give it another shot? he actually texted me not too long ago if i could meet him for drinks in a bit.”

the way his expression drops is almost comical, if it weren’t for the fact that you see it—the disbelief, the frustration flickering across his face before he can mask it. baekhyun has never been skilled at concealing his emotions, despite his insistence that he can. right now, it feels like he isn’t even attempting to hide the disappointment that hangs between you like a heavy fog.

if you could hear his thoughts, it’d be something like, ‘you’re going out with him? i literally just emptied my entire fucking ballsack into you, and you’re going out with him?’

his frown deepens, brows knitting together as if he’s trying to hold back a storm. before you can fully process what’s happening, he scoffs, shaking his head as if he could simply dismiss it all. “hah. right. okay, well, thanks for the nut, i guess. i’ll be seeing you around.”

each word drips with sarcasm, but beneath it, you can sense the hurt—an ache that tugs at the edges of your heart.

and with that, he turns on his heel and storms out of your bedroom, heading straight for your front door.

“baekhyun, wait!” you call after him, scrambling to catch up, grabbing his arm just before he can leave. he stops, but he doesn’t turn around, his body rigid with frustration. “what’s going on?”

he finally looks at you, and the raw emotion in his eyes catches you off guard. “what’s going on?” he repeats, voice low, almost a growl. “i’m sitting here, watching you play house with some guy who doesn’t get you—not like i do—and i’m supposed to just... what? be okay with it?”

you’re taken aback by the intensity in his tone, the way his words come out in a rush, like he’s been holding them in for way too long. “baekhyun, what the hell are you talking about?”

he lets out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “you really don’t get it, do you? we,” his hand gesturing between the two of you, “make sense, you and me. we’ve always made sense. and yet, here you are, wasting your time with someone who doesn’t even appreciate you like i do—who you don’t even like!”

you blink, a wave of dizziness washing over you as a flood of questions races through your mind, each one slipping away before you can grasp it. the weight of his words hangs between you, thick and suffocating.

“s-since when?” you stammer, doubt trembling in your voice. the ground beneath you feels unsteady, as if it might shift and swallow you whole. 

“are you kidding me?” he scoffs, disbelief etching deeper lines into his face. “i was a fucking wreck when you called it off.” the intensity of his emotions surges, filling the quiet of your apartment with an echo that seems to reverberate off the walls. “when you told me you wanted to ‘try dating some other guy’—do you even realize how that felt? why do you think i haven’t been around much since then??? it’s because i literally cannot stand the thought of you with someone else. just the idea makes me sick to my fucking stomach. i can’t breathe knowing he’s with you when it should be me.”

oh.

ohhhh.

his confession hits you like a tidal wave, the unbearable guilt gnawing at your insides. but it’s the way his voice trembles, softening as it cracks beneath the weight of vulnerability, that makes your eyes sting with unshed tears. “but i wanted you to be happy,” he admits, each word wrapped in a bittersweet sincerity that tugs at your heart. “even if it meant not being with me… i knew what this was. i understood our arrangement. and i tried so hard, so fucking hard, to push these feelings down. deep down, i always felt it was something more. call it delusion, but it just felt so good pretending you were mine... even if you didn’t feel the same.”

every word is laced with desperation, like a raw, exposed nerve. the truth hangs heavy in the air, and you can see the storm brewing in his eyes—agitation just beneath the surface, threatening to overflow. 

you can barely meet his gaze, heart racing as the reality of his feelings sinks in, pulling you under. “how come you’ve never said anything before?”

he takes a moment to steady himself, visibly wrestling with the whirlwind of emotions coursing through him. his gaze drops to the floor, fingers still tangled in his hair as he collects his thoughts. when he finally looks back up, his expression is a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

“because i thought you’d be happier without me,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. “i didn’t want to be the reason you felt trapped or guilty. i thought if you wanted to explore something new, then i should just... step back. but every day these last few months have felt fucking suffocating. i can’t shake the feeling that we belong together, even if it’s terrifying to say out loud.”

he takes a step closer, closing the distance between you, eyes searching yours for understanding. “i’ve been a coward, honestly. i know that. i kept telling myself i should let you go, but every time i see you smile or hear your laugh, it just reminds me of what i’m missing. i wanted to tell you so many times, but i was afraid of ruining whatever friendship we had left.” 

his voice thickens, eyes glistening with unshed emotion. “but i can’t keep pretending anymore. i want to be the one who makes you happy. i need to be that person, even if it means risking everything. even if it means putting everything on the line.” 

he stands there, eyes searching yours, you can see the desperation in his gaze, but the weight of his words feels too heavy to bear, and you take a step back, creating space between you.

“baekhyun, i just—i don’t know if i can—” you start, but he interrupts, the hurt flashing across his face.

“don’t know if you can what? feel the same way? i’m here, laying it all out for you!” his voice rises again, tinged with anguish. “you’re with someone else, and i get that! but you’re standing here like it doesn’t even matter, like you’re just going to pretend whatever we have between us doesn’t exist!”

the sharpness in his words cuts deep, and your heart aches. “it’s not that simple. you know it’s not,” you reply, your voice trembling with the weight of your own emotions. “you think i haven’t thought about what this means? about how complicated it is? i can’t just flip a switch and make everything okay!”

he runs a hand over his face, frustration boiling just below the surface. “you don’t have to make it okay! just... just acknowledge it! acknowledge us. you can’t deny that there’s something more here.” 

the heat of the moment grows unbearable, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. “i-i can’t! i can’t do this right now! i don’t even know what i want!” 

“then maybe it’s better if you stay with him,” he snaps, hurt flooding his voice. “at least then you can pretend you’re happy. you won’t have to deal with the mess we’ve created. you can have your perfect little life, while i’m over here trying to pick up the fucking pieces.” 

his words cut deep, each syllable laced with disappointment that settles heavily in your chest. “baek… c’mon, that’s not fair—” you reach out to him, but this time, for the first time ever, he pushes you away, the sudden force of it leaving you reeling.

“just please…let me go, okay?” his voice is low, but it trembles with emotion. “there’s nothing here for me anymore. you’ve made it clear that there never was.” 

you swallow hard, the weight of unshed tears threatening to spill over as you gaze into his eyes for what feels like the last time. the raw pain reflected back at you cuts deep, shattering something fragile inside you. he turns on his heel, his silhouette fading into the distance, the door clicking shut behind him like a final punctuation mark.

now, in the suffocating stillness, the tears flow freely, your chest tightening under the weight of your own heartbreak. each beat of your heart an ugly reminder of how deeply fucked this entire situation is.

this is it. 

you’ve hit rock bottom.

the days that follow blur into a haze of heartache and regret. each moment apart stretches into an eternity, every thought of baekhyun sending sharp pangs of longing twisting painfully through your chest. you try to distract yourself, immersing yourself in the whirlwind of work while surrounding yourself with friends—friends who have always sensed the unspoken tension between you and baekhyun. apparently, you two were never as subtle as you thought you were. the longing glances, the lingering touches, constantly matching each other’s energy, him effortlessly meeting you on every wavelength—everybody saw it, each tiny detail. 

‘you’d have to be deaf and blind to not pick up on the chemistry,’ one of them commented. ‘yeah, we were all calling you and baekhyun the next hellen kellers,’ another added.  ‘more like tweedle dee and tweedle dum,’ someone else chuckled. you couldn’t help but wince at the truth of it all.

you come to find out that they all secretly rooted for your “not-so-secret” connection to flourish, yet holding back from intervening, respecting the boundaries of your privacy. you feel nothing but gratitude for that unspoken understanding; after all, the very reason you both kept your fwb arrangement hidden was because of the fear of anyone else complicating the already complicated.

oh, and your boyfriend—the poor guy. he really didn’t deserve the turmoil you put him through. the conversation with him still echoes in your mind, haunting you like a ghost. you told him the truth, your voice trembling as you confessed to your betrayal. “i cheated,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “i’m so sorry. it was wrong, and i take full responsibility for everything.” you could see the disappointment wash over his face, the trust he had for you shattering before your eyes. he deserved more than what you gave him, yet you’d been stringing him along, all because you felt like you didn’t have a chance with baekhyun—the one who made your heart race in a way your boyfriend never could.

now, you’re left with nothing but the empty echoes of those moments, each heartbeat a reminder of the love you lost and the love you crave. baekhyun's laughter still dances in your memory, his touch lingers on your skin, and the connection you shared feels like an ache that refuses to fade. despite the distractions, you can’t escape the truth that looms over you: he’s the one you truly want. it was always baekhyun who held your heart, and the thought of losing him makes your heart ache all over again.

then, one evening, after an especially difficult day, you find yourself in a familiar spot—a coffee shop you and baekhyun used to frequent together. you sit there, cradling your drink, as a wave of sweet memories washes over you, each one tied to your past visits here with him.

just as you’re gathering your things to leave, the bell above the door jingles, and your heart races when you see who's walking in, a hesitant expression etched across his face.

“hey,” he says softly, eyes locking onto yours with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

“baekhyun…” his name falls from your lips in a quiet whisper, the weight of unspoken emotions heavy between you as you step closer. “can we talk?”

he nods, motioning toward a nearby table. your legs feel leaden as you walk over, your heart pounding so loudly it drowns out everything else. each beat is a reminder of how much this moment means, of how much you stand to lose. you can’t mess this up. not again. you have to make this work—you can’t lose him.

“i know things have been… difficult since everything happened,” you begin, your voice trembling as you lower yourself into the chair. his eyes are on you, but they seem distant, almost guarded. “but i can’t keep pretending i don’t care. i can’t just walk away from us.”

baekhyun looks down, his fingers brushing the edge of the table, searching for the right words. his heart feels like it’s about to burst. “i didn’t think you felt the same,” he murmurs, his voice soft and vulnerable.

“i was scared,�� you admit, your voice breaking slightly. “scared of losing you for good. but i realized that it’s worse to lose you without even trying to fight for what we had.” 

you feel the tears prick at your eyes again, but this time they’re not from sadness; they’re from the overwhelming relief of seeing him here, in front of you. 

“i don’t want to lose you either,” he confesses, his voice laced with quiet desperation. his hand reaches across the table, the warmth of his touch wrapping around yours as he gently grasps it. “i can’t stand the thought of seeing you with someone else. i never did. i want to be with you, and i’m willing to do anything to make it work.”

your chest tightens as you take a deep breath, nodding slowly while a shaky exhale slips from your lips. “i want to be with you, too. for real this time.”

his eyes widen, hope flickering like sparks catching flame. “do you mean it?” he asks, his voice filled with cautious anticipation.

you nod again, a soft hum of agreement escaping you, and in that moment, his smile breaks free, one of pure, unguarded relief. without a word, his hand reaches out, and your pinkies intertwine, just as they did all those years ago. a silent promise passes between you, and with a soft press of your thumbs, the vow is sealed—an echo of the past and a delicate mark of something entirely new.

“so… can i be your boyfriend?” he asks, his nervous grin tugging at the corners of his lips, his voice dipping into a shy but hopeful tone.

“yes,” you reply, unable to suppress the giggle that bubbles up, “i would love it if you were.”

his grin widens, turning his brown eyes into soft crescent moons, as if the tension in the room has melted away. you hadn’t realized how tense he was until you see him relax into his chair. “ugh, thank goddddd. i’m so glad we agreed not to be stupid anymore,” he jokes with a smile, and your heart swells at the familiar spark in his voice. and it hits you again—just how much you’ve missed him. that toothy smile, his voice, his laugh and the way he can always bring light into even the darkest moments. just him.

your best friend.

your boyfriend.

“i missed you, y’know?” you confess, the words tumbling out with sincerity.

“i missed you, too, cupcake.” he replies, his expression softening, thumb tracing little planets on the back of your hand.

he lets out a relieved sigh before continuing, “so what does my GIRLFRIEND want to do now?” excitement bubbles in his tone. “should we take a walk on the beach? the sun is about to set, and it would be nice. or does my GIRLFRIEND want to watch a movie? maybe my GIRLFRIEND wants to grab some dessert?”

you can’t help but blush, a giggle escaping your lips at the way he emphasizes your new title, drawing curious glances from the cafe patrons. embarrassment flares in your cheeks as you swiftly rise, tugging him by the arm to guide him out of the bustling cafe.

as soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he whirls you around, his hands tenderly cradling your face. twarmth of his palms feels like home as he leans in, kissing you with such devotion and tenderness that sends you soaring straight to cloud nine. everything outside melts away, and in that electric moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped snug in each other’s arms.

he pulls back slightly, his breath mingling with yours, and you catch a glimpse of that playful spark in his eyes. he sends a thrill racing through you as he ghosts his lips over yours, the soft brush igniting a flutter deep in your stomach. “or how about i take my girlfriend back to my place,” his voice low and sultry, “and we consummate our new relationship?” 

you laugh, your heart racing at the implication. “i think my boyfriend read my mind,” you tease, interlocking your fingers with his as you both giggle, making your way to his car. ‘finally,’ baekhyun thinks to himself as he swings open the passenger door, a grin spreading across his face. before you hop in, he leans in for one last kiss, savoring the sweetness of the moment. and as he shuts the door, a wave of relief washes over him. ‘finally, you’re all mine.’

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 a/n: the song linked in the title (and a text post on here that i cannot find for the life of me) inspired me to write a fwb!baekhyun fic 🙂‍↕️ i was going to end it with angst but then i realized......i literally can't do that!!!! lmfao i need my disney ending or else i'm gonna combust!!!!!!! sigh but anyways, i hope u enjoyed it!!!! as always, lmk your thots unless you hate it then pls keep it to yourself omg cus i am sensitive and will cry <3 (not joking)

⤷ prequel <3

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 . 

[chenlesfavorite]

Arriving at the racing location and handing over your tickets to Jisung brought back instant memories for you; Jaehyun immediately running off, forgetting your ticket, and then you getting kicked out— that clouded your mind immediately. But this time, you are surrounded by friends, ones that you know you can trust.

Winter rubs your back, noticing your nervousness "Y/N, it'll be okay. Me and the others will be with you the entire time, so don't worry," she reassures you. Her words provide the comfort that you definitely need right now. You take a deep breath before responding, "Yeah, thanks."

As you and the others continue moving on, the area starts getting more crowded, the noise and commotion increasing. Suddenly, Karina’s voice shouting out “Jaemin!” breaks through the noise, and she starts running towards him. “Looks like these two lovebirds are wasting no time finding each other,” Renjun whispers just loudly enough for you, Ningning, and Winter to hear.

“I’m not gonna be surprised if they start dating soon,” Ningning says, getting everyone to agree with her. They’ve been all over each other lately anyway, so the chances of them starting to date are not low at all.

"Seriously, anyway, let's just leave them be and go on our own," Winter replies with a hint of amusement in her voice. The four of you set off, guiding through the lively crowd toward the barricade where all the racers are gathered.

The four of you finally settle at a place, where the entire racetrack almost comes into view. Despite the nervousness you felt at first, a sudden wave of excitement washes over you, nerves crackling throughout your entire body.

“What’s up, guys?” Giselle greets everyone with a warm smile, waving her hand in the air. Ningning runs towards her, embracing her in a tight hug. "Gigi, hi!" She says before breaking the short-lasting hug.

“Are you guys ready for the race? Because, oh my god, I literally can’t contain my excitement for it!” Giselle exclaims, fanning herself with her hands. “We are so ready. This is mine and Y/N’s first time watching the race as well.” Winter replies, pointing at herself and then at you.

“Oh, you two are going to freakin’ love it!” Giselle cheerfully responds, her eyes sparkling.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome, to the third Neo-race of the season. I am Ten Lee, your announcer and commentator for tonight. Well, I’ll spend no time dragging on my useless yapping, so, let’s get started!”

The crowd erupts into cheers instantly. The lights at the starting and finishing lines burst into a dazzling array of colors, creating a bewitching mix of hues. The vibrant lights shine down on the racers, who are perched on their motorcycles. “Woah.” The sight has you stunned.

“First, let me introduce all the racers tonight. Starting with... Lee Jeno!” Ten announces, his voice booming across the track. He pauses briefly to allow the spotlight to fall on Jeno, who basks in the cheers and applause from the crowd. He continues, listing each racer one by one, giving them a moment in the spotlight.

"And last but not least, the crowd's favorite racer as of late, give it up for none other than Zhong Chenle!" Ten announces with passion, dragging out his name. As Chenle's name echoes through the air, the cheers become deafeningly loud.

“Jeez, my ears are going to start bleeding from all these people yelling.” You say, uncovering your ears once the cheering calms down. You heard of him being popular but you didn’t expect him to be this popular of a racer.

“Now, shall we officially start with the race?” Ten calls out, igniting a wave of excitement through the crowd— and all eyes were on the racers, who were revving their engines, ready to hit the gas at any moment and rush forward at the signal.

Ten begins the countdown. "Five... four... three... two... one..." At "zero," ... a strong gust of wind rushes past all those standing close to the barricade.

Your gaze darts from one racer to the other. Despite your attempts to focus on the others, your eyes settle on the last person you want to look at: Zhong. Fucking. Chenle. His presence stands out the most amongst the other racers, and you can't help but feel a jolt of frustration as you stare at him... but your eyes cannot peel away from him.

The way his hands were gripping the handlebars of the motorcycle with full precision and control, only being able to see his eyes through the dark visor of his helmet, his gaze intense. That sight of him was so striking, that it made your mouth fall agape, absolutely mesmerized... has he always been this hot?

“Got your eyes set on Chenle, huh?” Jaemin’s voice catches you off guard as he just appears out of nowhere— making you realize that your attention has been locked on Chenle and that you were focusing on him way too much, despite your hatred for him... and what was that about him being hot?

“I can’t blame you though, he’s addicting to watch for some reason.” Jaemin says, standing next to you, letting his gaze focus on the racers. “He’s pissing me off, though. It’s like, my eyes automatically go to him no matter how much I try to look away!” You exclaim, sighing in annoyance.

“That’s the Chenle effect, for ‘ya.” Jaemin replies casually, shrugging his shoulders with a small smirk on his face.

As the racers speed by the barricade, you catch a closer look at them, their fierce gazes, and their control over their motorcycles. It was such a cool sight.

Though, when Chenle passes by, he makes direct eye contact with you for a split moment— but what you did not expect was that he would flip you off the second he locked his eyes with yours. “What the fuck!? Chenle!?” You yell out, your face reddening with irritation.

“Did he just... flip you off?” Winter turns to look at you, seeing the angry expression on your face. “What do you think, Winter?” Your words come out in a way that it sounds like the answer should be painfully obvious.

The racers start approaching the finishing line, the crowd getting excited to see who’ll be the winner of this race. Currently, the two racers closest to the finish line were Chenle and a dude with a sunkissed-like skin tone. The two of them are neck-and-neck, their motorcycles speeding up as they get closer and closer to the finish line.

But the first racer to pass the finish line was, of course, Zhong Chenle. Everybody starts cheering and shouting his name, placing the spotlight on him. You aren’t surprised that he won, but you would have preferred if he lost so he would get humbled for once.

“Seems like we have our winner! Give it up for Zhong Chenle!”

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NIGHT RIDER : chapter 18 — the race

back — masterlist — next

! author’s note : don’t really know what to put for the note… I have no words to share today 😭

✮⋆˙ taglist : @nanaxwi @neocrashed @404tytrack @connormurphynation @dudekiss3r @injunnie-lemon @chenlesfeetpic @neozon3nha @morkiee @doughyk @i03jae @haechology @foxy-kitsune @fullsunbabe @polarisjisung @beommii @soobiverse @onlyhyunjin @lostinneocity @yyangj3lly @junviadinho @miyawwn @marvelahsobx @starfilledgaze @whoooootf @nosungluv @gukuwii @bitchzitschimi @nneteyamss @theandypark @urslytherin @xcosmi @taroddori @winwintea @iamsimplyasimp @ckline35 @yutarot @sunghoonsgfreal @roseangelxfuma @thegracerammy

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[tsumtsumrry]

Favorite Holiday

this follows harry and a cutie (you) through some of your favorite holidays as you guys navigate a little fun friends with benefits/situationship stitch. i feel like this took forever so sorry for my near disappearance but i hope you enjoy!! <3

**disclaimer** i'm american so i have the dates (e.g. 11/24/23) month/day/year format. just to avoid any confusion!! <3

WC: 12k.

warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, multiple instances of smut (fingering, phone sex, f receiving oral use of a vibrator, unprotected don't do it p in v), barely proofread cause i was too excited to finally post it, and a bit of angst.

March 20th, First day of Spring.

The holidays were always your favorite time of year. Every single one for that matter. Every holiday has its own special place in your heart. New Years, Easter, Christmas, etc. You loved them all the same. But you looked forward to them even more so this year. Because this year you had Harry. 

Harry, who was sitting across from you right now, laughing as he animatedly tells one of his horrible but adorable jokes. You have the stupidest grin on your face, with your eyes set on how his lips form the words coming out of his mouth. You can’t seem to look away. It doesn’t help that he keeps sneaking glances at you, those suggestive eyes that only you know burning into your face. 

He plans to take you home tonight, you can tell. You two have been going at this for months, the no-strings-attached sex thing. You think it’s easy enough. There’s never been any real difficulties, just the fact that you’re trying to keep it discreet. 

The first kiss was at the New Years party. You were both tipsy, he confessed that he always had a little fixation on you and how you looked in “all those pretty outfits you like to wear” and you confessed that him and his “fancy british accent”, “pretty tattoos”, and “ridiculously charming personality” never failed to have you imagining kissing those incredibly soft looking lips. 

He looked at you for a second, his gaze moving from your lips to your eyes as if he was trying to gauge where your head was at. Then, at the perfect timing, the clock turned twelve and your lips were intertwined. The rest is history. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you bite your lip, fighting hard to hide the smile that threatens to overtake your face. You know exactly who it is. 

You pull your phone out and smirk when you read it. 

H 11:34PM

Need you tonight, baby.

It’s been too long since he’s touched you, you missed it so much and he couldn’t go another day without you. You look around a little, trying to make sure no one is looking at your phone (only making yourself look more suspicious in the process) and then begin typing back. 

You 11:36PM

And what do you suppose I do about that?

You look up at him when you know he’s seen the message. You smirk at him and he gives you a look that says ‘you know damn well’ but he texts back anyways. 

H 11:37PM

Come to mine tonight. Let me fuck you.

As soon as you read the text your stomach erupts with butterflies, you always have an instant reaction to his words. You press your thighs together and try your best not to squirm. 

He doesn’t need to know that though, so you answer with a simple, 

You 11:40 PM

Ok.

You push your phone right back into your pocket and try your best to continue with the conversation that’s getting passed around the table. But thoughts of him keep creeping in. Thoughts of his voice in your ear, the feeling of him inside of you, stretching you and filling you, his hands gripping you roughly or gently, depending on how you feel, all you can think about is him. 

“It’s getting late, you guys. I’m exhausted. Loved seeing you all.” you finally say, not being able to take much more of wanting something when it’s literally right in front of you and not being able to just take it. 

“Me too. Got an early morning. See you.” Harry says after you, looking at you not-so-discreetly as he gets his stuff. 

When you’re both outside he instantly pulls you away from the windows and kisses you. It’s hard and passionate and needy and it’s almost like he―

“Missed you.” he says in between kisses, his hands going to grip your waist tightly, like he’s yearning for the skin to skin contact. 

“Yeah?” you whisper, tugging on his bottom lip which earns you a pained groan. 

“Fuck. Mhm. Missed you so much. You smell good.” 

You giggle at his admission about your scent and decide to spur him on even more. 

“Show me. Take me home, H.” 

Waking up next to Harry is something you simultaneously love and wish you never got to experience. Because when this little arrangement is over, you know you’ll miss it too much. 

When he wakes up, he doesn’t treat you like his fuck buddy, he treats you like some sort of girlfriend. And you haven’t let it detrimentally affect you yet, but you know it will. And the day it does is when you’ll know you need to end this. End it before someone, scratch that, you get hurt. 

“Mornin’, angel. Want some breakfast?” he says, his voice gravelly but also smooth like toffee and it sounds weird but you want to taste it. 

“Mhm. Whad’ya making?” you mumble, eyeing his lips. 

“Whatever you want. Kiss?” 

You smile and lean up to kiss him, taken by surprise when he deepens it and pulls you over his lap. You giggle into the kiss and he smiles with a short chuckle. 

“Want anything before I go make it?” he says, obviously trying to start something. 

“Harry…” 

“Just asking, sweetheart. You know I always want you.” he says with a kiss to your collarbone, “only you” he says softly as if it wasn’t meant to be heard.

“Stop trying to sweet talk me. Go make breakfast.” You push yourself off him and he whines, but obliges, going to make that lovely french toast he knows you want.

You sit up to look through some emails when you hear it, his phone buzzing incessantly on his counter. 

You know it shouldn’t bother you, you’re just friends who happen to enjoy each other's sexual company. The idea of him having someone else that he whispers sweet nothing to in his ear just doesn't feel right to you. 

You pick up the phone, keeping it face down, (not wanting to see something you know you don’t want to) and walk to the kitchen where Harry is mixing some yummy smelling batter. 

“Think someone is trying to reach you.” you try to come off as cool and collected, and you almost convince yourself that you are, but you know you’re not. You curse your sensitivity and watch as he picks up the phone but puts it back down, face down, just as quickly. 

“Makin’ your favorite.” He rasps out, turning around to smirk at you. He frowns when your expression isn’t one of your usual excitement. 

“You okay, baby?” he inquires, setting the bowl of batter down on the counter and walking over to you. He takes your hands in his and playfully looks into your eyes with faux intensity, “tell me.” 

“I’m okay, yeah. Just tired.” It’s only now that you actually wonder how many times you’ve told that lie. 

“Worked you over good last night, hmm?” He smirks and you roll your eyes and smile despite yourself, “you sounded like you were having a good time.” he adds cheekily and before you can stop it a giggle breaks from your lips. 

“I was.” His ability to make you feel like everything is okay with just a cheeky smile and a couple of words breaks you and mends you at the same time. 

“Good girl.” he whispers against your lips, kissing you slowly and softly. 

“Back to the food!” he exclaims, breaking away from you to saunter back over to the counter-top. 

“Wanna be my sous chef?” 

April 1st, April fools.

You never understood the fixation with men’s hands until you started sleeping with Harry. 

“Fuck.” he drags out the vowel sound as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, stroking your g-spot in a way you can only describe as affectionately rough, “look at you princess, taking my fingers so fucking well.” 

“H..fuck I—” you’re cut off by your own loud moan, praying that no one can hear you two. Your friend group planned a little get together given the fact that it’s april fools and you guys have nothing better to do. You all decided to host it at Harry’s place and he lasted about ten minutes trying to be a good host before he dragged you into the bathroom with a phony excuse that you’re almost sure nobody believed. 

When you reach up to cover your mouth, he tuts softly and reaches up to tap three fingers against your hand, signaling he wants it off, “s’my fucking house we can be as loud as we want. You know how much I love your pretty sounds, why’re you trying to keep ‘em from me, huh? Being bad?” he says in that condescending tone that you simultaneously love and hate.

“N-no, please H. M’not being bad jus-just please.” 

“Love it when you beg. Soaking me like this and I’ve only given you two fuckin’ fingers–” 

“Gonna cum.” you interrupt him with your frantic moan, he’s always very adamant about you asking for permission. He needs to be in control like that. He needs to have that control over your body and your pleasure. He thrives on it. “Can I please, please cum?” 

“Fuck. You’re sqeezin’ me so fucking tight. Gonna make a mess all over my fingers, baby? Give it to me.” 

“Yes, yes yes” you feel that white hot pleasure building in what feels like every nerve in your body and your muscles start to jerk as you cope with all the pleasure overriding your system. You ramble out a couple praises mixed in with Harry’s name and your hand tangles in his hair which he groans at. You pray to every god that you can think of that nobody downstairs can hear the way he’s ruining you. 

“There you go, baby.” he doesn’t stop with his fingers, keeping a rhythm that only intensifies your release. When you choke on a moan that sounds more like a sob, he kisses your temple gently and soothes you with his voice, “I know, I know. Feels too good, doesn’t it?” 

You’re not sure if he expects a response, but even if he did you’re not in any state to give one. His fingers have turned your brain into a mushy mess.

“You’re okay darling. Always making me so proud.” He whispers as you come down, slowly pulsing his fingers inside you still to help you ride it out. 

“Jesus christ.” you sigh and he chuckles softly. 

“What was our excuse again?” he asks before leaning down to your lips to kiss you, his kiss full of the lust that’s swimming in his forest eyes. 

“Dunno, something about getting the movies that we were gonna watch,” you giggle softly against his lips and he smiles. 

You get some movies from his bedroom so that you don’t seem too suspicious and go back downstairs to your friends. The heat of embarrassment makes itself known every time someone asks you or Harry what took so long or what distracted you up there. 

“What could you guys possibly have been doing for eight whole minutes?” a friend of yours asks incredulously with a joking tone. 

“We couldn’t find the movie we wanted. Duh.” Harry shoots back with a quickness, smirking softly when he looks over to you. And he can read your body like a book. He knows you’re a little embarrassed at the idea of people finding out that you guys have been fooling around. 

You’re playing with the lobe of your ear as everyone takes in Harry’s response and laughs. Someone tells another joke that just amplifies the laughter but Harry’s only looking at you. Playing with the lobe of your ear is one of your many obvious tells with your anxiety. He makes  a mental note to check on you later. 

During the movie he plops himself right in between you and one of your friends, making both of you giggle. He swings his arm around your shoulder and leans down to whisper in your ear. The heat and tickle of his whisper sends a shiver down your spine and you know that the position you guys are in is less than discreet but you can’t really find it in yourself to care when he’s close like this. “You okay?” he asks in an earnest tone, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder for good measure. You nod softly and he smiles, softly tugging you closer. 

April 9th, Easter.

Easter was always a fun holiday, especially for your god children, you always loved to see the little kids run around in search of the little painted eggs. It reminded you of a time when you were in their position, blissful and young. You often refer to those as the ‘good old days’, but you can’t quite complain about how you ended up.

You’re talking to your sister’s baby boy when your phone rings, you pull it out to see a picture of Harry sleeping in bed and you smile, you remember when you took that picture. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, pretty. Where are you?” he sounds kind of breathless, like he’s been running a mile.

“At an Easter egg hunt. You?”

He chuckles darkly before speaking. “Dunno. Just missin’ you.” he says. You squint your eyes in suspicion.

“Missing me?” you say with the same suspicion laced in your voice. You’re starting to understand what he’s playing at. 

“Missing your sweet cunt. God, the way you taste. Need you on my tongue.” he spews out in what seems like one breath. 

“Jesus Christ, Harry. What has gotten into you?” you hiss, quickly getting up out of your seat and away from prying eyes and ears. 

“God, I can almost imagine it.” you hear his whisper and the neediness radiating off of his voice makes you press your thighs together. He’s touching himself. He’s fucking his hand to the thought of your taste and it’s driving you mad. “Want you to sit on my face next time, have your thighs shaking around my head, your pussy drenchin’ me―fuck!” he whimpers. 

“Harry…” you say, it’s supposed to be some type of warning but the arousal starting to pool in your underwear has your voice coming out shaky and unstable. 

“Love it when you say my name like that. Again. Say it again, please baby.” he begs, shamelessly. You can tell he’s close, the strain in his voice, the crackly over-the-phone sound of the wetness of his strokes.

“Harry I―”

“Fuck fuck fuck, I fuckin’ need you. Please, please.” he keeps whispering the word “please” under his breath, gasping out moans and whines, “gonna cum, gonna cum.” 

You decide there's no harm in spurring him on a bit, “come for me, Harry.” 

You hear a broken “fuck” before a series of his beautiful sounds fill your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught of stimulation, butterflies swarming around in your tummy. 

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah fuck.” you whisper and you hear his laugh on the other end. 

“Sorry―Sorry I um― called you like that. I just, fuck, really needed you. Was so fuckin’ hard. Y’have no idea.” he breathes out. 

“I…um. I missed you too.” you don’t know why you cringed at yourself after saying it, but it’s almost like Harry can read your mind because he chuckles and speaks in a reassuring tone, “that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. When will I see you again missy?” 

“Dunno. I’ve been a little busy with work and…stuff. I’ll have my people call your people to see when I can fit you into my schedule.” you joke, biting your lip softly and toying with your necklace as you wait for his response. 

When you hear a soft laugh a smile is immediately brought to your face. That laugh could melt you. His voice is like velvet when he speaks, “I’ll have you soon. We both know you can’t stay away. You need me for my slutty waist and washboard abs as you usually say.” 

You try your best to hold in your laugh so as to not inflate his ego, but it slips out before you have permission and both of you are laughing before you feel a delicate tap on your leg. You’re met with your nephew when you turn around and look down to find the source of the touch. 

“Can we pway more bunnies?” your nephew says to you and you nod softly, “just give me one second honey.” He nods and walks back to the place you guys were sitting and you smile as you watch him. 

“I’ve gotta go but I’ll text you, alright?” 

“See you soon, petal.” 

May 31st, Memorial Day.

“That kiss the cook apron is really working for you, Harry I’ve got to say.” you giggle at your friend Jamal’s shout at Harry. 

It’s another one of your favorite holidays and you and your friends are all at the beach. The sun is beaming on your skin and warming you in the best way while the breeze balances it out, cooling you in the places needed. “Take it off! Take it off!” you join the chant, having trouble even speaking in between laughs. 

“You guys are fucking ridiculous” Harry chuckles. He smirks and reaches behind him to pretend to take the apron off, laughing when everybody’s cheers get louder. 

When the food is done and everyone is full, the girls lay on the sand while the guys are across from you guys making sandcastles like children. You look over at Harry and feel your stomach twist in a way that it’s been doing recently that you can’t stand. He just looks so good. You don’t know how else to explain it. Especially in this light, the warm sunset creating a golden glow against him. The soft amber tones kissed his skin and the sunshine he usually radiated with his personality seemed to radiate physically, as if he was being infused with the sun’s very essence.

You couldn’t stop yourself from sitting up to go and talk to him. He looked up at you in the position he was in on his knees and smiled, his eyes squinted from the direct sunlight.

“Hey. Fancy going for a walk?” the way he says it seems like he’s been waiting for the opportunity to do so. The sun shifts and his expression softens as he awaits your response. 

You nod and put your hand out for him to take it, and he rolls his eyes playfully but takes your hand anyway. You try not to think about what the rest of the group might think as you walk away with him, hand in hand. It’s not lost on you that you guys look like a couple, but Harry has always been touchy with his friends, some might say too touchy, so you pray that they’ll just attribute it to that. 

He swings your hands as you guys walk, and constantly rakes his fingers through his damp hair with his free hand. You kind of wish he wouldn’t because you love the way his curls fall over his face. 

“I feel like we’ve both been so busy. I haven’t gotten to see you as much as I want to.” You stop walking, you guys are a bit of a good distance away from everyone else and he’s starting to get more affectionate with you. His hands trail up to your arm to cradle your neck and he rubs your jaw affectionately. He leans down to ghost his lips against your neck and whispers, “I’ve missed you.” 

There’s something so poetic about the way his voice carries with the wind and the distant sound of the waves crashing around you guys. You melt into his hands when his lips finally make actual contact with your skin and you have to fight hard to suppress the whimper that threatens to leave your mouth. 

“Tell me you’ll come home with me tonight. Please.” He suckles on your neck gently, causing the moan you were suppressing to finally force its way out. 

“I will. Anything you want.” you pant out, tangling your hands into his hair. You sigh when he pulls away from you but you can’t complain when you get the view of the sun reflecting in his eyes. It feels like you’re frozen in time as you look at him. The sun has set a bit more and the atmosphere is colored a fiery orange that bleeds more into a red. His eyes mimic the water in the way they glisten and his pink lips almost make you weak just looking at them. Especially considering the way those lips were just all over you. 

Harry’s staring at you in awe, the way the deep colored rays dance against your skin made it seem like a thousand stars fell from the sky just to adorn you. You’ve always been beautiful, but in this very moment, you’re transcendent. To him it’s like you constantly exceed any expectation for beauty he could possibly have. Everything about you is like a masterpiece to him. He wonders why it took him so long to grasp just how weak the sight of you makes him. He gives you one soft kiss and then pulls back too quickly. He takes your hand and starts walking with you back to the rest of the group. 

Looking at him now, you wonder why it took you so long to grasp just how deep you are in this. Having thoughts of freezing time and staying in this moment so you can look at him forever are dangerous thoughts. Thoughts that almost make it seem like you’re in love. 

Dangerous. 

October 31st, Halloween.

“Jesus, babe.” Harry brings his finger up and moves it in a circular motion, “do a spin for me.” 

You giggle and spin around, making sure to do it slowly so he can really take in the way this dress hugs your figure in all the right ways. He whistles and you can’t stop the laugh from leaving your lips. 

Ever since your realization at the beach, things have been so simple between you two. You thought it would complicate things, but everything has been perfect. So incredibly perfect. It’s almost like he knew that you were starting to feel something more, the way he’s been treating you these past couple months is so different. Different in a good way. The amount of attention and care that he’s devoted to you makes your stomach with more butterflies than you can handle. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you tell him, walking up closer to him, having to look up at him. Your confidence wanes the slightest bit at his intense eye contact when he looks down at you with an amused smirk on his face. 

“Yeah? I look good enough for you?” he quips, dangerously close to your lips as he speaks, “I was worried you know? S’hard to measure up to you.” 

Ever the flirt, he is. 

“You’re overdoing it now.” you deadpan and back away from him, making him throw his head back in a cackle. It was Harry’s idea to go to the Halloween party in matching costumes. You were a little shocked at first but you’d never turn down an opportunity to match with the most fashionable man you know. 

“Our ride is gonna be here in about….” he looks down at an imaginary watch on his wrist, “fifteen minutes. Whadya say we sneak a quickie in?” he smirks at you and chuckles when you roll your eyes.

“It’s this fucking outfit,” he practically growls, his hands palm at your ass, “driving me insane, baby.” 

“And whose idea was it?” you tilt your head as you speak, making a point to move his hands from your ass to your waist. “I’m not gonna be late because of you again, Harry. Keep your hands at appropriate places at all times.” you scold him. 

“Yes it was my idea,” he sighs. “A very good but painful idea that I take full credit fo—” a car beeping outside interrupts his sentence and his brow furrows while you smirk at him. 

Right…fifteen minutes.

Getting in the car and seeing all your friends dressed in all their Halloween outfits already has you excited for the rest of the night. Harry was very adamant about your seating arrangement when the car got too cramped, eagerly offering up his lap as a seat replacement for you. You of course took it, and you’ve spent the whole ride fighting your body’s natural reaction to his little teasing touches. 

You want to kill him by the time you finally arrive at the party. He knew exactly what he was doing in that car, he knows the effect his touches have on you and you know he’s doing this as “payback” for how you’re torturing him in your outfit. 

It’s not hard to make your rounds and do all the socializing that you’ve equipped yourself for before Harry is immediately stealing you away from people.

“Wanna dance with you.” is all he says, dragging you to the dancefloor. You look around as you guys settle, the vibe around is nothing short of raunchy. Looking at all of the other couples around you, you can tell that they all want to take each other home and tear each other’s clothes off. After cooling off with a couple drinks and conversations, you weren’t exactly in that mindset anymore, but you have a feeling that Harry is about to take you right back there. 

His hands smooth down your waist, boldly cupping your ass and he slowly grinds against him to the rhythm of the song, you feel his gentle breath before you hear his voice. “You’re killing me, petal. Been picturing tearing this dress off of you all. Fucking. Night.” 

Your breath catches in your throat and you let his hands lead you as you push your head further into his neck, “M’not doing anything though. What’s got you this worked up?” You pout at him condescendingly. He knows feigning innocence when he’s needy like this is your favorite thing to do. It makes you feel a sort of power that you usually don’t get with him to hear him say that you make him into a mess. 

“You fucking know, baby. You know what you’re doing to me.” he’s whining out his words at this point, and you thank god that the music is as loud as it is so everyone else can’t hear how this man is falling apart in your hands. 

“Can’t think of anything else. The only thought in my mind is watching you come on my cock. God it’d be so easy to just fuck you right here. Know you’ve already made a mess of yourself. It’d be so easy to give you what I know you need right now.” 

You’re panting at this point, delirious with pleasure. It should be illegal the way he can talk you into almost anything with that voice. You don’t care about anything or anyone else around you, all you can think about is how desperately you need him to quell that ache that’s building inside you.

“Fuck. Take me home. Take me home right now, H.” 

As soon as he hears you he’s moving. He doesn’t even bother to let your friends know where you’re going. He just drags you outside and starts tapping on his phone to get you guys an uber.

The ride to his house is tortuous. He sits you in his lap almost immediately and his hands find a home on your hips, making a point to drag you slowly back and forth across his thigh. 

Every roll against his thigh drives you further and further into oblivion and you don’t think you can wait any longer to get what you so desperately need. You suppose you’ll let him have his fun though, his little taste of “payback” for how bad he’s been aching this whole night. 

The second the driver stops, it’s like Harry couldn’t get you off of his lap fast enough (something you never thought you’d say) and he’s dragging you up to the house. He wanted to kiss you as soon as you got out of the car but he knew you wouldn’t appreciate doing that in front of the driver. No matter how turned on you are. 

As soon as you guys step into the house, he closes the door behind him and his lips are already on you. Your mind is instantly turned into mush with the way he claims your lips. It’s like he can’t even wait long enough to get you upstairs. He’s immediately getting down on his knees and kissing and sucking his way up your thighs, “so fucking beautiful and soft. You feel like a fucking dream. Dreamy girl.” 

He trails his hands slowly upwards and takes a hold of your thin lace panties. Although he pulls them down gently, you can see the impatience in his eyes and feel it in his grip. He’s beginning to lose his resolve and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. 

Your skirt is pushed up and resting on your hips before you can blink. The way you’ve been pressing your thighs together since you got in the house has been deemed useless when he forcefully pushes them apart, his hands gripping the flesh so hard you fear it might leave marks.  

“Wanna feel you come on my tongue. Missed it so much. Will you let me?” he sucks marks that only the two of you will be able to see in your inner thighs. You can barely find it in you to answer his question. Everything about the way he’s touching you, to his voice, to the smell of his cologne and your arousal mixed together is heightening all of your senses and making your brain short circuit. 

You nod hoping that would be enough, but you should’ve known better. “Words. You know better, baby.” he tsks, continuing his kisses along your sensitive skin. 

“Yes, yes. Please.” Is all you can manage to get out. The second the first yes leaves your lips, his mouth is exactly where you need it the most. He’s not wasting any time tonight, getting straight to the point of making you lose yourself on his tongue. Usually he drags it out, edges you or teases you with his tongue, but he’s aching so bad. He needs to be inside you before he loses his mind. 

His tongue swirls messily against your clit and you’re so sensitive that you tense with almost every stroke. He’s moaning against you in a way that you would find obnoxious if it wasn’t him, but because it is him, it just adds to your pleasure. He’s behaving as if he’s a man starved. As if he’s been a dessert and you’re that stream of water that he’s been yearning for. 

You tangle your hand into his hair and let your head tip back against the door. You can’t be bothered to worry about the volume of the moans you’re letting out and how they travel through the empty house. You’re too consumed in how good he’s making you feel. That’s the good thing about having a sexual partner like this. You’ve had so much time together and he’s made the most diligent effort to learn your body. He knows every signal, every tick, every indication. And he uses it all to his advantage. 

You sob lowly when he slides his fingers into your heat, immediately curling them up to hit that spot that makes you shake. You pull your head off of the door to look down at him, only to find his eyes already on you. His intense green eyes bore into yours and it’s almost as if they’re communicating with your eyes. He urges you to let go for him with that unspoken language that you’re now fluent in. 

He fucks you deep with his fingers while his tongue continues it’s very skillful ministrations. Every time he moans into your cunt the vibrations just push you further and further into bliss and you’re almost embarrassed with how close you are so quickly. The sounds you’re making are bordering on pornagraphic when you start clenching down hard on his fingers you know you’re a goner. 

He pulls away to egg you on with his voice, “there you go, baby. Getting so fucking tight for me.” you moan at his words and nod. As much as you love the way his tongue was working magic on you, the one thing that will always get you to fall over the edge is his voice. 

He’s evil, you decide. He’s evil for the way he toys with your body like he owns it. And at this point, he does own it. 

His tongue is back on your clit to offer you that final push off of the edge, he flicks his tongue and sucks with a pressure that you can only describe as mind numbing. Every movement he makes just makes the release that’s brewing even stronger. 

A complete mess of syllables leaves your bitten lips as the white hot pleasure consumes you. It feels like a tidal wave swallows you up in its strength and you see no way of coming up for air. You choke out a series of moans that Harry only groans at while he continues to softly lick at your clit and thrust his fingers inside you, like he intends to keep you under. 

The hands that were in his hair tug hard as the soft licks start to become a little too much for you to handle. A slightly higher pitched sound leaves him and he relents reluctantly, “can never get enough of your cunt, petal. Never.” He leaves wet kisses all over your thighs in between more praises that you barely register with all the pleasure swimming in your mind. 

One thing you can register though, is how bad you need him inside you, “take me upstairs, Harry.” 

He stands up almost immediately at that, and he smirks before leaning down to pick you up bridal style. You giggle at his antics and he only chuckles, kissing your cheek as he leads you two up the stairs.

November 23, Thanksgiving.  

Thanksgiving is by far your favorite holiday. The way you get to spend time with your family, the (amazing) food, just the atmosphere of being happy and thankful with people you love, you look forward to it every year. You’re chilling next to your sister on the couch at your parents house, laughing at one of your dad’s jokes. 

You guys have already eaten and you're completely full and sated as you enjoy the company of your family. 

The amount of times you’ve checked your phone should be considered embarrassing, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop. You invited Harry over for dinner. And it’s really no big deal, he’s been your friend for a while, long before the whole arrangement started. And he’s met your family so many times that they wouldn’t even bat an eye. His family lives in London and he’s in the U.S. for work so he’s come over for Thanksgiving plenty of times. 

You feel a nudge on your shoulder and you look over at your sister who has a soft knowing smirk on her face. 

Uh oh. You know that expression. 

You give her a deadpanned look, “what?” 

Her smile grows at the way you can read her so well and you urge her with your eyes to tell you what’s on her mind. 

“So…what’s going with you and Harry?” her eyes are squinted in that specific way that tells you that she knows exactly what’s going on with you and Harry, she just wants to hear you say it. “It’s just…you guys have been posting each other a lot, tagging each other in posts and all that. And the last time I saw you guys, you seemed super domestic.” 

You don’t doubt that. Even though you and Harry still place yourselves under the “friends with benefits” label, you guys have gotten way closer emotionally. You’re always together now. You sleep over at his house almost every night, sometimes without even sleeping together. You guys have been glued at the hip ever since Halloween. And it’s great, honestly. It feels great. 

“It’s nothing, it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders and a sheepish look graces your face, “I think I sort of…like him”

  Your sister can barely register what you said before your head is snapping to the sound of the doorbell ringing. You look back at your sister and she smirks at you softly with a soft raise of her eyebrow. 

Your mom gets up to open it and immediately shrieks in surprise, “Harry! I had no idea you were coming!” you smile at the genuine joy in her voice and then at Harry’s voice when he speaks, “she didn’t tell you I was coming?” You can hear the smile in his voice and it immediately brings the one you were trying to hide back on your face. 

“And you brought a date!” your mom exclaims. 

Your smile drops. 

Your heart follows your smile and you immediately feel a pit deep in your stomach that twists and twists until you can’t take it anymore. 

A hot wave of embarrassment comes next when your sister tenses next to you. You had just told her that you actually might like someone, that you actually might like Harry. And here he is with a date. 

Your mom steps aside to let them in and your stomach twists even tighter. She’s beautiful. And you’re sure she’s kind and charismatic and perfect and everything Harry would want and deserve in a woman. 

You don’t even wanna see the look on your sister’s face, you don’t want to see the pity in her eyes when she realizes that you’re completely hopeless. 

You feel tears gathering in your waterline and you blink them away. You almost want to feel angry. He brought her here? At your parents house? You know that technically you two don’t owe each other anything but there’s a level of respect that you figure one is supposed to have when sleeping with someone. 

You suddenly feel scared to see his face. You wonder if he’ll look guilty, or completely indifferent. You honestly don’t know which one is worse. 

You’re even more nervous that he’ll see your face and realize how much this is hurting you. How much it’s hurting you to realize that, although you two are friends, he never felt for you what you felt for him. That you were just a warm body he used when he needed it, and you happily offered it to him. Over and over. 

A plethora of emotions hit you at once, and after you cycle through confusion, sadness, and anger, you just feel stupid.

Your mom says your name and you’re very harshly snapped out of your thoughts, “figured you’d surprise us for the holiday, huh?” your mom has the most gentle smile on your face and it almost makes you crumble more. You look over to your mom and you immediately feel his intense gaze on you. That same intense gaze that used to make you melt only makes all of your muscles seize in the worst way at this very moment. You refuse to meet his eyes cause you know that if you do, you’ll break. 

You force a smile and pray that it’s not too obvious how you’re not even acknowledging him, “guess so, mom.” 

You and your sister share a look and you communicate without words that she’ll cover for you if you have to leave. She nods at you with a knowing look and you return the look, mentally preparing yourself to lie to everyone here and say you have to go. 

You pick your stuff up and get up to walk towards the door. “Harry,”  you address him for the first time since he came, “thank you so much for coming. I didn’t think you’d actually make it.” 

He furrows his brows and leans towards you, extending his arm out to pull you into an awkward side hug, “of course I’d make it.” you feel yourself tense as you feel his touch and you hope he doesn’t notice. You nod against his shoulder and sigh. His cologne envelopes your senses and you bask in the comfort of his warm hug. You’re utterly torn between the two feelings it offers you, a feeling of discomfort conflicting with a feeling of home. 

“How are you? You look lovely.” he kisses your cheek and the all too familiar feeling of his stubble rubbing against your skin threatens to bring a new wave of tears to your eyes. 

“I’m fine–” you barely get the words out before he’s interrupting you. A huge smile graces his face and he looks down at the girl he’s got his arm around, squeezing her shoulder gently before he speaks and you already know what he’s going to say. 

“I want you to meet—” 

You can’t do it. 

“I’d love to talk but I’ve got a work emergency and I really need to go.” you watch his face drop. His eyebrows furrow tightly together and a frown graces his face. You can tell he’s confused, he knows that you would never leave Thanksgiving early for any work emergency and you would never leave as soon as he shows up. 

You go to walk but his hand leaves his date like he’s been burned by her skin and he reaches out for you, grabbing your arm tight. His eyes are swimming with an expression you can’t quite place and he squeezes your arm with a quick pulse, “where’re you going? I just got here.” his voice dips and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s hurt by you leaving. Right now you can’t even begin to worry about him being hurt with the pain radiating in your chest right now. 

“S’work, H. I’m really sorry,” you turn to address the girl next to him, “it’s really nice to meet you. I’m sorry we couldn’t talk more.” and with that you’re out of there before anyone can say anything else. As soon as the door shuts behind you, you take a deep, shaky breath and bring your hand up to your neck to soothe the ache that’s developing in your jaw from holding in your tears. 

You decide then and there that you need to get it together. Harry doesn’t owe you anything, you guys are strictly friends with benefits. You weren’t supposed to get attached and caught up in the strings. You’ll try your absolute best to be a mature adult about this and not take your pain out on him cause as much as this hurts you, he doesn’t deserve to be treated the way you treat people when you’re hurt. 

And with that decision, you come to another. You need some time apart from Harry. 

December 24, Christmas Eve. 

Christmas Eve. Another one of your favorites. The anticipation and festive energy in the air felt palpable and everywhere you looked there was joy. The land outside was covered in white and the air felt crisp and cold. You loved the kind of air where it gave you little goosebumps as soon as you stepped outside. 

You’re watching a cheesy romantic Christmas movie, simultaneously loving and hating it. Loving it because it’s adorable and makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, hating it because you definitely wish that the leads were you and Harry and it’s making you want to die. 

Just as the male lead tells the female lead how much he’s really been crushing on her the whole time they’ve been trying to save her mom’s restaurant, your phone begins to buzz. Unfortunately for you, it’s been buzzing all day. 

Harry. 

Over and over again. 

He’s been texting and calling and truthfully, he actually sounds really concerned.

Harry 11/28/23

Hey petal. Been trying to reach you for a bit. Is everything okay? We good? 

Harry 12/1/23

Miss you. Text me. 

Harry 12/3/23

Answer meeee please? 

Harry 12/7/23

Feel like you’re avoiding me. 

Harry 12/7/23

Did I do something? I’m sorry if I did. 

Harry 12/14/23

Just please let me know you’re alright. I’m getting worried. 

Harry 12/17/23 Starting to think that you’re dead. 

Harry 12/22/23

I’m gonna stop bothering you now. But I miss you. Please text me back. 

Harry 12/24/23

Okay I lied about the bothering thing. I need to see you and I’m really worried and if you’re dead I’m gonna ask the police to do a wellness check. So answer me. 

The sheer desperation in his texts almost broke you, but for all you know he just misses the sex, and the thought of that breaks you even more. 

You grab the pillow on your couch and thrust it up to your face to scream into it. The second you get done screaming you hear your doorbell and you jump. You wonder who in their right mind would be out in this weather but you pause your movie and  go to open it nonetheless. 

What you didn’t expect was a Harry Styles covered in snow at your door. 

“Hey...can I come in? S’snowing like really hard.” It breaks your heart a little the way he added that last bit in, like you would refuse him otherwise.

“Of course. Do you want any tea?” you ask, trying to avoid the elephant in the room in case that’s not why he came here. 

“No I’m― I came here to um…talk.”

Fuck. 

“Okay.” You giggle, trying to lighten the mood but his sullen expression stays put. 

“I’m still gonna start the kettle in case you want any―” 

“Why’re you pulling away from me?” he blurts out.

“Wha―”

“I literally haven’t spoken to you in weeks. Have I done something wrong? I―I” he pauses to compose himself and your frown deepens, “I miss you. Miss you so much and I just wanted to make sure we were okay.” 

You push yourself away from the couch and walk up to him, making sure to keep eye contact knowing how important it is to him,”of course we are, H.” 

“You haven’t spoken to me in like a mo―” 

“Shh, shh. Was just swamped with work. You know how I get all in my head.” You know you shouldn’t be lying to him, you really shouldn’t. But the way he’s talking like the idea of you purposely ignoring him breaks him, you don’t have it in you to let him suffer any longer.

He nods and you smile at him, bringing your hands up to tangle in his hair, “we’re okay. I promise.” 

“Promise?” he whispers and your heart flutters. 

“Yeah.” You hate lying to his face. 

You start your steps to go to the kitchen but his grip on your wrist pulls you back, nearly crashing into his chest. 

“Want a kiss, please.” his voice never leaves that soft whisper. You lean in to give him a soft kiss, suddenly feeling a pit in your stomach that only deepens the closer you get to him. You’ve always had a bad habit of putting someone’s comfort over yours. 

“Do you want tea?” you whisper against his lips. 

“Always want some fuckin’ tea.” he says with a smirk and a quiet chuckle, that joyful inflection back in his voice and that familiar sparkle back in his eyes. 

When you step out of the kitchen with the tea he’s sitting on the couch in a relaxed manner, picking at the loose strings in your pillows and watching the movie you have on. His lips stretch in a gentle smile when he sees you and you force yourself to return it. 

You sit down next to him and he places his hand softly on your thigh, leaning over to you to place a soft kiss on your jaw. He trails more and more down to your neck and you feel your stomach twist. Your hand shoots to his chest to halt any further movement and you rush out words in a short breath, “We can’t.” There’s a beat of silence. He backs away quickly to not make you uncomfortable and you sigh and whisper, “...I can’t” 

Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze and you can tell that without an explanation your rejection stings him a little. 

“Don’t you have like…a thing? With that girl you brought to Thanksgiving?” you watch his face twist tightly in confusion and you can’t bear to hear him make excuses or lie to you so you just continue to ramble, “does she even know that you’re sleeping with other people? With me? Like if I was your girlfriend I’d be pretty fucking pissed that you’re over here and touching me after bringing her to Thanksgiving of all places—” 

“Shut up.” He cuts off your ramble sharply. You suck in a breath at his tone (and after speaking all those words without a break) and your chest tightens at his stern expression. 

“W-what?” you fumble through the word. Never in your life have you seen him this angry. He’s looking at you with a gaze that can only be described as absolutely vexed. 

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” If there’s one thing Harry is, it’s smart. He’s absolutely not an idiot. But you absolutely are for not realizing just how well he knows you, “you’ve barely spoken to me for a month. Didn’t answer my calls, texts, not going out when you know I’d be there because you thought I’d betray your trust like that and just pop up one day with a fucking girlfriend!?” You can tell that he’s trying to control his volume and anger. The way his fist and jaw is clenched is an obvious indication. 

“Well what was I supposed to think, Harry? You brought her and she was beautiful and you had your hand on her wai–” 

“And you weren’t gonna let me explain myself!? I’d never do that to you. It was—We–we had a deal!” he exclaims incredulously, ducking down to meet your eyes when you try and look away. 

“I know we had a deal, H. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions—” He interrupts you again and you sigh deeply. 

“And I can’t believe that you would think…I thought it was different…I thought you…” he trails off, his voice getting softer as his speaking slows.

“You thought I what?” you ask urgently. He looks down at his hands and picks at the nail on his thumb. You frown softly, “you thought I what, H?”

His expression almost looks tortured as he trains his gaze on his fingers. You suddenly feel terrible. You ignored him for so long all over a simple misunderstanding. You think back to the moment that it all happened and figure you might have avoided all of this if you just let him properly introduce her like he was trying to. Your lip trembles softly at the idea of hurting him and he sighs. 

“I thought you felt the same way as I did. I thought it wasn’t just a deal to you.” he admisses so very quietly. So quiet that if the TV was any louder you wouldn’t have heard it. His brows are tightly knit together and his lips are turned down into a deep pout. 

Harry almost regretted it when he said it. He knows that if you truly don’t feel the same, it’ll never go back to the way it was, and he’ll lose the person he cares about the most. He’ll lose the person he loves the most. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest and he avoids looking up at your expression in fear that your expression will be less than kind. 

He speaks before you can even process what he just said, “Ellie’s my cousin.” he breathes out a humorless laugh, “the girl I brought to Thanksgiving. I thought you’d love her.” the soft tone and volume of his voice remains constant.

You feel like your brain just short circuited. Harry just told you that he actually has feelings for you. That all this time he’s been thinking about you in the same way that you’ve been thinking about him. All this time. 

And you’re sitting here like an idiot letting him stew in confusion and not saying a word. 

“Oh my god.” you gasp like you’ve suddenly been slapped back into reality. Your hands rush over to him like they have a mind of their own with thoughts that tell them that they need to be close to him. You grasp his face in your hands and pull his head up so you can look into his eyes. 

“H.” you sigh. He watches your mouth form around the word and he decides right then and there that no matter what you’re going to say next, no matter if you reject him and tell him you could never see him that way, you will always make him weak. Looking into your eyes will always break and mend him at the same time, the sound of you saying his name will always make him crumble.

“Of course I feel the same way. Are you kidding? I thought that you didn’t.” you finally, finally admit. It immediately feels like a giant weight has been lifted off of your chest and you almost wanna cry at how freeing it feels. 

“Are you serious?” he laughs, although you can see that his eyes are a bit glossy. You pout softly, nodding and leaning down to envelop his lips in yours. 

“I’ve always needed you, petal. Even before the sex. I need you to know that.” he speaks with conviction. He needs you to know that it’s not just the sex muddling his brain and making him attached. He really truly loves you. Everything about you. 

“I know, I know H.” you nod again. 

“You’ve got no fuckin’ idea how much I missed you, petal. No clue.” His voice is thick with emotion, but also filled with that familiar lust that you missed so much. 

You scoot closer to him on the couch and throw your legs around his lap to straddle him, “feel like showing me?” 

He chuckles darkly, his hands quickly landing on your waist. His mouth closes to form into a smirk when you blatantly offer your body up for him like this. A soft noise leaves you in reaction to the tight grip he has on your waist. 

Your hips take on a mind of their own when they start to shift against him. A soft hiss followed by a groan leaves his lips. It’s like your lips are magnets the way you can’t keep them away from each other. He leans up to kiss you and the movement of your hips intensifies. 

You can see it in his eyes that he’s thinking of some sort of punishment to sort out your behavior of the past month. The intensity in his expression makes you feel a sort of anxiousness that throws you for a loop. You feel a little scared, but all the excitement and anticipation just overrides that tiny bit of fear. 

He leans closer to you to leave open mouthed kisses all over the exposed skin of your chest, he kisses until he reaches the fabric of your shirt and his hand falls to your ass, gripping it tightly while urging you to continue the movement of your hips against him. 

“Gonna have to teach you a lesson it seems.” His voice is husky and deep when he speaks, you know that he has the capacity to absolutely ruin you tonight, and you know that he will. 

He taps your hip with his fingers, his usual signal that he needs you to stand up. Your brows furrow in confusion briefly, but the confusion is gone as soon as it came when he speaks. 

“Do me a favor, honey?” 

You nod eagerly. 

“Get out that vibrator you’ve got in your dresser, clothes off and wait for me in your room.” His voice held a velvety, sensual tone, and combined with what he said, you’re nearly weak in the knees. When you stand there for a moment, having a bit of trouble getting your body to move as fast as your brain, he urges you with a raise of his eyebrow and you immediately spring into action. 

You hear his quiet murmur of “good girl” as you start to walk to your room. Every nerve in your body is buzzing with anticipation. Harry is already amazing in the bedroom with just him, imagining the pleasure you’ll feel with him and the toy is making you squeeze your thighs together and your eyes shut as you dwell in your thoughts. 

You sat down on your bed (very submissively, you hope it’ll get you some brownie points) with your vibrator laying next to you. Just when you’re starting to get impatient, the door opens with Harry on the other side of it. There’s a very distinct hunger in his eyes as he looks at you, as his gaze travels the length of your body. You can tell he appreciates the way you’re sitting. 

He doesn’t waste any time walking towards you and kneeling until his knees touch the floor and he’s level with where you need him the most. His hands find purchase on your thighs, immediately squeezing and prodding at them like he’s playing with his favorite toy (which he technically is), “you’re so good for me, petal. Doing as I asked.” 

His eyes flick up to yours after he speaks, and the eye contact, especially when he’s got that look going, makes you melt. You’re hyper aware of the tortuous way his hands are trailing upwards. He knows the way his touch works you up no matter where it is, and he’s using it to his advantage. 

A sharp gasp rips from your throat when he spreads your thighs apart. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve gotten from just the anticipation and thought of what he’s going to do to you. The groan that he let out once he saw what a mess you’ve made is an indication that he was pleased. 

“Jesus, petal. Look what you’ve done…” he stares at your center with an expression of deep desire as he reaches out a hand to trail two fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal on his fingertips, “messing up your sheets, baby. This all for me?” 

You can’t help but obediently nod, meeting his eyes with a pleading look, “only for you, promise. Please?” 

His face is painted with an expression of faux confusion, that condescending look that makes you clench around nothing and tip your head up to the ceiling in frustration. You know from that look this is going to be harder than you thought. He’s in the mood to tease. He’s going to break you.

“Please? Please what, baby. What do you need from me?” You’re impressed by the way he’s looking at you like he’s actually concerned and wondering what you want, and although you know it’s an act and he’s not asking because he truly plans on giving it to you, you still give in.

“Touch me, Harry. Need it.” You should be embarrassed at the whiny inflection in your voice as you beg him, but you can’t find it in yourself to feel shame when you’re aching as bad as you are. 

“You need it?” He teases and you know even he’s getting tired of this waiting game because his expression has melted down into a lazy grin, enjoying the way he’s torturing you. 

You can tell that he isn’t exactly mad any more, which you’re grateful for. He’s just enjoying toying with the body that he knows so well. 

You scoff and roll your eyes, pushing your hips towards him needily. It earns you a dark chuckle and a sigh, “alright, alright.” 

Without leaving his position on his knees, he reaches for the vibrator. Before you can beg any more, he’s switching it on and bringing it down to where you need it the most. He doesn’t even offer up a warning before he’s placing it directly on your clit, ripping a shocked moan from your throat. 

“Yeah?” His voice is taunting and low, and if the vibrator was any louder you wouldn’t be able to hear him, but it still hits you right in the gut like his voice usually does when he talks to you like this, “is that good? Right here?” 

“Fuck, yes. Stay right there.” you stutter through your words in a way that you know he’ll tease you for later, but you don’t have the brain capacity to care right now. All you can think about and feel is him, that vibrator on your clit, the way he’s talking. 

When he presses it harder against you, you breathe in deeply, exhaling in a whiney moan. He’s making you unravel at a quick and embarrassing pace and the sensations are overwhelming you. Your hips start to shift in tandem with the way he’s slowly rubbing the head of the vibrator back and forth against your clit, the sounds that leave your throat travel straight to his cock that’s still confined in his pants. He growls lowly when he notices your thighs start to shake and leans closer to suck kisses into them, “close already? Fuck look at that, honey…” he’s referring to the way your arousal is coating the toy. He almost feels tempted to bring it to his lips and clean it off, “this dreamy cunt needed it so bad, hm?”

You couldn’t respond even if you tried, your brain a mess of syllables and sounds that you’re meant to put together. All you can manage is a string of whimpers as you get closer and closer to your peak.

Harry watches your every move, so in tune with every twitch of your body and every sound you make. He moans along with you as you come undone, making sure to keep the toy right where it’s been to help you ride it out, anything to keep making his girl feel good. 

You reach for his hand to ground you and he quickly gives you what you need, interlocking your fingers and groaning when you squeeze tightly, “there you go…fuck.” 

You push yourself away from the toy when it becomes too much as best as you can, desperate to escape the onslaught of overstimulation and he chuckles, pulling the toy off of you. You can barely grip your bearings as he brings the toy to his lips to clean off with his tongue, he moans needily when he tastes you and squeezes your hand as if to say he’s proud of you. 

He puts the toy down next to you and starts to kiss his way up your body. Mumbling little words of encouragement and praise on his journey to your lips. 

“Did such a good job.” 

“M’so proud of you.” 

“You come so pretty.” 

“So beautiful.”  

When you guys are face to face he pinches your lips with his fingers before he leans down to kiss you, moaning into the kiss since he was deprived of them in the short time that he was making you come. 

“Hi.” You breathe out in a chuckle, your mind still muddled from the post climactic haze. He returns your greeting, his voice soft and tender with an adoration filled expression on his face. 

“Aren’t you like–” you motion your head downwards to refer to the way he’s straining in his pants and a chuckle leaves his lips. He nods gently, still staring at you with that fond look in his eye. 

“Mhm.” he mumbles. He repositions himself so he can take off his clothes and after he teases you for nearly drooling over his abs, comes back down to rest against you so that your chests are touching, “you wanna keep going?”

You know he’s asking to be respectful, but you can also tell that if you say no he’d probably cry. You can feel how hard he is against your thigh and see the strain in his expression. He subtly shifts his hips every so often against your skin and you have to fight back a smirk at how needy he is. 

You nod before you remember his thing about verbal consent and you mumble out a soft yes. As soon as he has your permission, he’s connecting your lips and lining up his tip with your entrance. He drags his tip back and forth against you, your body twitching in sensitivity every time he passes over your clit. 

A guttural groan leaves him as he finally fills you, a groan that melts into a whine as you clench down around him tightly, forcing yourself to adjust to the burning stretch that you’ve missed so much. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” The sound of his voice and the sounds he’s making just make you clench down tighter around him, “how do you always feel this fucking good? Squeezing me like a vice, pretty.”  

He sets a rhythm that has him hitting that spot inside you that makes you melt every time, somehow even though he’s been aching in his pants for so long his focus still remains solely on bringing you pleasure, making you feel good, “s’that okay, sweet girl. S’it good for you? Am I giving this needy cunt what it needs?” 

You know he doesn’t expect you to respond but he speaks anyway. He’s well aware of the effect his voice has on you.His deliberate thrusts gain more momentum with every reaction you give him. He truly feeds on your pleasure. It’s as if he suddenly remembers the emotional turmoil you forced the both of you to go through the past month, because his thrusts begin to get more purposeful. Rougher, more pointed motions of his hips rip noises from you that you’re sure is gonna give you a sore throat later. 

His hand wraps around your throat in a firm grip, leaning down to grit words out into your ear, “you’re mine, understand that? You’re mine. And I’m yours. No one else’s. I belong to you, petal. Just you.” 

He fights the strong pull in his chest that tells him to tell you how he really feels, how in love he is with you. How you consume his every thought and how your touch is unlike any other touch he’s ever felt. From the first time he was already addicted. You’re unlike anyone else that he’s ever met, you feel like home. 

The force of his thrusts knock all of the air out of your lungs, and all you can do is nod and mumble out an agreement. You need to be his. There might not be anything that you want more right now. Hearing him confess his feelings for you right now as he’s fucking you into oblivion do all the right things for you, and like clockwork, he immediately recognizes what you need and switches back on the vibrator, bringing it right back down to your clit. 

“Fuck that’s it, baby. Am I fucking you right, petal? Yeah? Fucking show me then. Come for me.” He presses the toy harder against you and rolls his hips in just the perfect way that makes him rub against that perfect spot inside you and you realize now that he made good on his word of teaching you a lesson. You are sufficiently taught.

He whines loudly at the feeling of you coming around him, mumbling out praises and thank you’s as you milk him for everything he’s worth, “shit, m’gonna fucking come. Fuck keep cumming, baby. Keep fucking squeezing me like that–” his words are cut off with a series of noises that you know is going replay in your head on loop. 

He rides out his pleasure with slow, lazy thrusts, hiding his face in your neck as he tries to cope with all the pleasure that’s wracking through his body. You tangle your hands in his hair to offer him some comfort, both of you breathing heavily. He continues to mumble praises into your damp skin, filling you with a warm fuzzy feeling that transcends anything you’ve ever felt before. 

When he catches his breath he turns his head to rest it on your shoulder and speaks, “you know I meant it right?” 

“Meant what?” 

“I’m yours. And you’re mine.” 

December 31st, New Years Eve. 

Your friend’s makeshift bar is bustling and you chuckle as the poor untrained bartender is trying to grapple with it all. You’re sipping slowly at a glass of champagne when you feel a strong arm link around your waist. 

“Mm hi baby.” his deep voice reverberates through your entire body as he speaks directly into your ear. You melt into his grasp and your lips break into a smile that you couldn’t stop even if you tried. 

“Harry.” you say cheekily as your hands fall to hold onto his arm. He had just come back from an absolute killer karaoke performance next to your friend’s TV. The whole entire house was cheering for him as he belted out an incredible rendition of “Hopelessly Devoted to You”. Ever the performer, your boyfriend is, “you were amazing. As always.” you giggle and he presses a messy, wet kiss to your cheeks. 

He is absolutely glowing tonight. Surrounded by his family, friends, and you. He’s beyond ready to spend the next year being annoyingly in love with you and attached to your hip. In fact, that’s the thing he’s looking forward to the most about the new year, going through every milestone, change, and holiday with the love of his life. 

“Always strokin’ m’ego, petal. Looove you.” you laugh loudly at how inebriated he is and lean your head back against his shoulder to get closer to him. 

“I love you too, H. I think you’re cut off though.” you chuckle and you can hear the pout in his voice when he speaks. 

“Wha’? Wha’s wrong with you? M’not even that drunk m’love.” The irony of his words slurring while he’s trying to convince you that he isn’t drunk isn’t lost on you. You turn around to face him and it’s like his expression melts into a smile when he looks at you. 

You don’t know how you never noticed it before, the way he looks at you. He stares at you with so much awe, so much reverence. Ever since you’ve noticed it the first time, it’s the first thing that catches your attention when you guys are together. That damn look. 

“Y’so pretty.” He brings his hand up to stroke your face with his thumb. 

You turn your face to kiss his palm and he giggles childishly, mumbling something about it tickling.

It’s not long before the countdown starts. Harry and you look at each other in anticipation, wanting to commemorate the first time you guys expressed the affection for each other that’s only increased ten fold. 

9

8

“I think New Years is m’favorite holiday.” he mumbles out, looking down at you with that familiar fond look. 

6

“Yeah?” you giggle at his admission, “why’s that, H?” 

4

“S’cause it’s the day that I finally got you.” You can barely register the cheers of happy new year before his lips are on yours, claiming them and making you his. You pull away reluctantly to breathe and smile at him when you speak.

“I think it’s my new favorite too, baby.”

[writefightandflightclub]

Blurb request?

What if you stole Santiago's favorite hat, and he caught you wearing it, very casual, nothing to see here, nothing at all.

Make you mine: Santiago “Pope” Garcia x GN!reader

Thanks so much for sending this, Rally! 🧡☺️ I wrote a hat-based thing with Frankie x reader, but I gave this a bash too as I love the concept with Santiago (my beloved) too! I hope you like it!

Warnings: fluff, steam, lots of mentions of erections, cum kink sorta (brief), light-hearted. 🧢 🍆

A hard swallow trails down Santiago’s neck as he clocks you. Wearing his hat.

He’s arrested by the sight of you, an instant flare of heat blooming across his skin as he realises, in no time at all, that he likes it. Likes seeing you in something of his. Or more so, looking like you’re his by association.

The attached and very intrusive thought is powerful and sudden on the heels of that realisation.

He’d love to see how you’d look wearing his hat and nothing else.

He quirks a brow in interest. He didn’t know that, specifically, would do it for him, but in fairness, he’s pretty sure you are the common denominator here. With you, he’s always discovering new ways that you turn him on.

Shame he can’t act on it though. You and he have been flirting back and forth, sure. But, you’d told him, not long after you’d met that… things were complicated for you. You and him? Maybe there was an instant spark, but you’d been clear the two of you would be nothing outside of friends.

So, he tries to compose himself as you walk over to him. A glass in each hand - one for him. “Thank you,” he smiles smoothly, clinking his glass with yours in a “cheers”.

The other boys have retired inside, after a poker night out on the deck. But you and he have lingered. For some air.

He lets his gaze linger on you, confident enough to drink you in for a stretched moment, your coy gaze even more alluring than usual from beneath the brim of his hat. He tries his best to ignore the blood thudding to his crotch. But you make that difficult to do - no-one else could ever.

“I’m cosplaying you.” You tease, brazenly acknowledging your blatant and unforgivable theft. “Pass me a stick of Wrigleys, Santi? It’ll really up my authenticity.”

He chuckles. Unable to take his eyes off of your bright smile. Your gaze flits gently over his face in return. Lingers on the creases radiating out around his eyes. Dips to his mouth. It makes him self-conscious - which he isn’t used to. Then again, he’s never met anyone who has quite the effect on him that you do.

He perches himself on top of the wooden porch rail. Gestures for you to join him and you seat yourself there too, body angled in towards him.

He can’t help it now. Looks up at his cap perched on your pretty head. He spreads his thighs a little to accommodate his growing bulge between his legs. “-You know. If any of the boys touched my hat…”

“Oh, I know,” you pout comically, shaking your head side-to-side. “Dead to you.” So you know his hat is famously off-limits then? In that case, either you must have put together that he’s a soft-touch for you; or, you’re trying to provoke him. But hey. He doesn’t exactly mind either option. “So.” You take a casual sip of your drink, your eyes flashing with mischief from over the brim. “The boys would be in for it. But what will my punishment be?”

Santiago takes a deep, steadying breath he dearly hopes is subtle as the bulge between his legs grows uncomfortably swollen, pressing up against the seam of his jeans in a way that makes his eyes prick with tears.

Fuck, he doesn’t normally have this much trouble controlling himself; but there’s something about you. Lord knows, he’s trying to keep his internal monologue clean but all he can think is: mine.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Undoubtedly, he can think of a few (hundred) ways he could “discipline” you, if that’s what you’re into. His palm itches where it rests against his thigh, becoming suddenly tacky.

“Well. First of all. Here,” he offers, pulling a pack of gum from his pocket. “You’re not really nailing ‘me’ yet. Needs more work.”

Nailing him? Fuck, that’s an unfortunate choice of words when he’s trying to take his mind off of ravaging you.

“No?”

“Not seeing the resemblance, cariño.”

“Well. That checks out.” You tug performatively on the brim of his cap as though you know exactly what you’re doing to him, actually. “I am a hell of a lot cuter.”

Fuck, you’re not wrong. You’re fucking adorable.

You take a piece of the offered gum, beginning to chew rather obnoxiously on it. “How about now?”

An easy laugh bobs in his neck. “Holy shit. Now it’s like looking in a mirror.”

You slide closer to him, shimmying yourself along the porch rail. An urgent heat prickles at his skin. Your proximity slips a warm snake down his spine.

“So, you approve, Santi?” Santiago could swear your voice has taken on a lusty quality. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on his part. “You like me wearing your hat?”

He almost chokes on his masking swig of his drink. Christ, if you only knew how much he approves. If you could see the sordid images playing on a loop in his head right now? Well, you’d probably throw your drink in his face, to be honest. Actually - he could do with it, to cool off. Maybe he can pour his own drink over himself if things get really dire.

“You think Frankie’s cap would suit me too? Or do I look better in yours?”

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Even the drum of his heartbeat feels like it’s trying to claim you. Trying to bust out of his chest to reach out for you.

Fuck. Are you trying to kill him? He doesn’t have a gasket, but he’s pretty sure he’s about to blow one all the same. “You know you look good,” he assures huskily, voice hollowed out by want, though still trying his damn best to toe the line.

Friends. You don’t want him to do the things he’s doing to you in his head right now. Right?

You smirk, looking all too pleased with yourself before taking a swig of your drink. His gaze is fixated on you as you wrap your plush lips around the mouth of the bottle, your fleet of pink tongue poking into the rim. The image certainly is… inspiring.

Fuck, he’s sweating. Swipes the back off his hand across his forehead, catching the moisture gathering inexplicably at his temples.

Then, to his horror, you stand, slinking towards him and slotting your hips in between his spread thighs. You crane around his form, careful that the brim of his own hat doesn’t poke his eyes out, and you dip your plush mouth towards this shell of his ear. Your whisper beds down right under his skin. “How do you think I’d look wearing this and nothing else, Santi? Would I look like I was…yours?”

Wearing my hat. Wearing my hat. Wearing my cum.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Santiago’s brain fully short circuits. He blinks dumbly at you, mouth slightly agape, as you simply look on in amusement, biting down on your lip.

It’s not like he doesn’t want to jump at the chance to find out, but…

He sniffs. Shoots for non-chalant and doesn’t pull it off. “I thought we… I thought. Just friends?”

“Santiago,” you purr. “I stole your hat. Catch-up.”

Catch-up? Holy shit. Maybe he’d have a clue what you were up to if he could think straight. His erection is straining against his pants so hard now he has to shift his hands to cover it. Has to bite back a strangled whimper at the painful pinch.

Your mouth twitches around a delicious self-satisfied smirk as you clock the state he’s in. You giggle, brazenly eyeing his bulge with interest. “Benny told me this might do the trick.”

Santiago’s eyes tighten then. He pouts up at you, eyes twinkling, almost wistful. “Honey.” He lifts the hat from off of your head, setting it down on his own instead. “You? You don’t need any tricks.”

“No?”

Fuck, the way you’re both so devious and so shy at the same time is killing him. “Nuh uh. I’ve wanted you for a long time. You’re gorgeous.”

He boxes you in a little more tightly with his sturdy thighs. Slips his hands on to your waist. Your breath hitches, and he likes the fact he’s finally managing to turn the tables. He dips his mouth towards you, and you manoeuvre around the brim of his cap until your mouth is a whisper away from his kiss. “Wait,” you urge. “I have gum.”

He can’t help but laugh - a resonant chuckle shucking in his throat- as you take a moment to toss it aside, and then he’s just looking at you again. Gaze flitting softly over your face. Arms drawing you close to him once more until his lips brush yours. The contact sends tingles all the way down to his toes; he’s waited so long for this.

He deepens the kiss, soft and more tentative than he’d usually pitch it, his tongue probing into your mouth, but you return his growing fervour. Your palms brace against his sturdy thighs, and he swallows the smooth moan which blooms from your mouth as he clasps you to him.

You pull back for air, looking slightly giddy, and you survey him, a cheeky, devilish glint in your eyes. “You know. You look really fucking good in my hat, Santiago.” Your dark, teasing voice is like honey poured into his middle.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You look like you’re mine.”

He shucks air from between his teeth in surprise, his face splitting into a lopsided, awed smile. His eyes turn dark with hunger, pupils eating away at warm umber.

He is. He is yours, if you want him.

He decides then, that he can push this a little further. You seem keen - and Lord knows he is. And so, with a knowing, playful smirk, he dips his lips forward towards the shell of your ear. Whispers to you. “So, how about I wear this and nothing else for you?”

You visibly shiver as his words wind their way into you, your smooth facade cracking apart. “Santiago. Fuck. Are you trying to kill me?”

With his erection continuing to throb against the seam of his pants, he really thinks it’s the other way around.

“No,” he promises. “Only trying to make you mine.”

Mine. Mine. Mine.

That’s all he’s wanted since he met you.

He devours your mouth in another hungry kiss, tongue shoving against yours, opening you up. Stubble raking over your skin.

And, before your delicious kiss knocks every other thought - and word and concept - right out of his head, he logs the fact he definitely owes Benny a favour.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

He always wanted to be more than friends.

[lovelygirlwithablog]

୨ ⎯ headcanons . nicolas alexander chavez x f!reader

━ slow and teasing

He's the KING of teasing you with kisses. He'd start off slow, his lips barely brushing yours, just to make you lose it. You'd lean in for more, but he'd pull back slightly with that cocky little smirk, whispering, "Patience, baby. I'll give you what you want... eventually."

━ messing with u

When he's in the mood to mess with you, he'd kiss you once, softly, then trail his lips down your jawline and stop just short of where you really want him to go. And when you let out that frustrated sigh, he'd chuckle and be like, "Oh, I love how needy you get for me." 😵‍💫

━ spicy and possessive pet names

"Mine" - Oh, girl. This one would come out when he's feeling possessive. Like, if someone else flirts with you, he'd pull you close and whisper in your ear, "Don't forget, baby-you're mine." Chills.

"Darling" - He'd say this in that slow, deep tone when he's in full heartthrob mode. Like, "What do you need, darling? Tell me, and it's yours." Literal heart palpitations.

━ flirty pet names

"Baby" - Classic but effective. He'd say it in that low, teasing tone, especially when he's being playful or spicy. Like, "C'mon, baby, you know you want me to kiss you." Instant chills.

"Love" - When he's feeling all intense and romantic, this is his go-to. He'd probably whisper it against your lips mid-kiss, like, "You drive me crazy, love." Ugh, please.

"Beautiful" - He'd drop this one out of nowhere just to watch you blush. Like, you'd be getting ready or just sitting there, and he'd be like, "How did I get so lucky with someone so beautiful?" Byeee, my heart.

"Angel" - He'd use this one when he's feeling protective or extra soft. Like, if you're upset, he'd wrap you in his arms and whisper, "Don't worry, angel, I've got you." Melting!!

━ flirty energy on set

Nicholas would absolutely love teasing you if you visited him while he was working. He'd be all professional one minute, delivering his lines perfectly, and the next, he'd be flashing you that sly smile in between takes, knowing it's driving you crazy.

━ you're his safe haven

After a long day of filming, the first thing he'd do is find you. He'd wrap his arms around you in the coziest hug, burying his face in your neck while mumbling, "You're the best part of my day." He'd totally sneak little forehead kisses when he thought no one was looking, just to recharge and feel close to you.

━ validation

After a big scene, he’d run over and ask, “How did I do?" And when you tell him how amazing he was, he’d get all blushy and say, “That’s all I needed to hear.”

━ spicyyy

If the two of you were alone in his trailer? Whew. Nicholas would lean against the door with that cocky smirk, pulling you closer by your waist like, "We've got a few minutes before they need me... want to make it worth it?"

━ he'd hate seeing you upset

The second he realizes you're mad, he'd get all serious and be like, "Wait, are you actually mad at me? Baby, talk to me." And you'd be trying to ignore him, but he'd literally NOT stop following you around until you told him what's wrong. He'd have this sad puppy-dog face the whole time, which makes it SO hard to stay mad. Like, Nicholas, let me be angry for a second!!!

━ he'd blame himself

Nicholas would probably start feeling like he's the one ruining things. He'd get all quiet for a second and then look at you with teary eyes, saying, "Is this my fault? Am I not enough for you?" Hearing him say that would absolutely wreck you because you'd know he's always trying SO hard to make you happy.

━ cuddles

If you were busy or taking too long to cuddle him, he’d literally flop down on the couch like a toddler and be like, “Why don’t you love me anymore?” in the most over-the-top voice ever.

━ attention

If you even looked at your phone or got distracted, he’d nudge you with his nose and say, “Hello? What’s more important than me right now?” He’d fake being all hurt and be like, “Guess I’m just not your favorite person anymore.” But the second you kissed him or ran your fingers through his hair, he’d get all soft and mumble, “That’s better. You’re my favorite person, too.”

━ back hugs

Imagine you're busy doing something, like washing dishes or typing on your laptop, and out of nowhere, Nicholas wraps his arms around you from behind. He'd rest his chin on your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss on your neck.

a/n: guys thank you so so so much for the notes on my last post! here are some new headcanons 'cuz this man is killing me 😫 let me know in the inbox if you want headcanons for other actors/characters!!

[halsteadlover]

Exam Buddy

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Female!Reader.

• Requested by anon: Hi! I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if I could please request a Jay Halstead x Detective Student Reader (she’s in her last year of her uni/established relationship) stressed out with her exams and Jay just comforts her kinda like a fluff to smut path? Thank you inadvance! :) loved your writing so I decided to request for the first time!

• Warnings: mention of nudity, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (always practice safe sex you guys), cursing, ugly ass writing (yeah that’s a warning too).

• Word count: 5182.

• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+. That’s honestly so bad I don’t know what to think 😭 I hope you’ll like this piece regardless, please let me know what do you think, like, comment and reblog if you want. Thank you so much for your constant support, I will never shut up about it but I’m so grateful for all of you.

“Baby I'm home!”.

Jay announced as he walked through the door of the apartment you two shared, frowning when he got no response. There was an almost deathly silence in the house and he even doubted you were home for a moment.

“Baby? Where are you?” Jay spoke again placing the bags containing dinner on the kitchen table and then heading to your bedroom. He opened the door and a smile was born on his lips when he saw you sitting on the bed, your back to him. He went out in the afternoon and found you in the same position as he left you in the evening.

Without seeing your face, he already knew you had a pen between your lips as you chewed it in frustration. Your hair was tied up in a messy bun and you were wearing a t-shirt, obviously Jay's.

Numerous papers and notes were scattered on the bed, a sign you were still rehearsing and studying for your next detective exam. Jay walked over to the bed, realizing you hadn't even realized he was there yet.

“Hey,” he said placing his hands on your eyes, roaring as you literally jumped in fright.

“Are you out of your mind?! You scared the shit out of me!” you exclaimed raising your voice, your hand resting on your chest as you waited for your heartbeat to return to normal. “Go away, don't touch me,” you pushed him away when he, while he was still laughing out loud, tried to hug you. “You're a piece of shit you know that? You can't pop on me like that fuck's sake!”.

“Sorry love, I didn't mean to scare you,” Jay tried to justify himself, smiling at you. You rolled your eyes and returned your gaze to the note sheet you were trying to memorize. He removed some papers to make space and sat in front of you, so he could have a good look at you. “Why aren’t you looking at me?” he chucked.

“I'm mad at you now.”

“Why’s that my sweet princess?”.

“Because you almost gave me a heart attack!” you exclaimed looking at him not amused at all.

Jay tried to hold back his laughter and pulled you by your hands, wrapping you in a hug. “In my defense, I called you several times and you didn't answer me,” he kissed your forehead as he stroked your back “Can I make it up to you with dinner? I brought some Mexican, your favorite.”

Your eyes lit up when you heard those last words and in that same instant your stomach rumbled. “Mh, maybe.”

Jay chuckled and squeezed you tighter. “Now woman, are you going to give me a kiss or not? I missed you so much today.”

You smiled and lifted your head, placing a hand on his cheek and drawing him to you in a kiss. He almost moaned into the kiss, having no idea how much he'd missed your lips until they were pressed against his.

His hand stroked the side of your face, and a sigh escaped your lips as he let his tongue slip in your mouth, deepening the kiss and completely taking your breath away.

“Come on love let's go eat, I can't waste time, I still have to study,” you murmured once you pulled away.

“Since when is kissing your boyfriend a waste of time?” he asked rhetorically, raising an eyebrow.

You jostled him playfully. “Don't say that, you know exactly what I mean. I have the exam in three weeks and I'm literally not even halfway through the program, Jay I can't...”

“Hey, hey, hey, stop,” he soothed you placing his hands on your cheeks, “My love, everything will be fine, I know how you feel and I know you're under a lot of stress. How about we go eat now? Let's talk a bit and if you want I'll help you study later mmh?”.

You and Jay sat on the couch eating dinner and talked about how your days had gone. However, your mind was not at ease and you couldn’t stop thinking about the amount of pages you’d have to study and how little time you had. Anxiety was gripping your stomach and by then you couldn't concentrate anymore on nothing else but this damned exam.

Jay was trying to be as close to you as he could. His heart ached to see you so stressed out and worried, and God, he would’ve taken all the anxiety you felt not letting you worry one second of your life. He knew how you felt, he too had been there, but seeing you like this wasn't equally easy and not being able to do anything to make you feel more serene made him feel helpless like few other times in his life.

It felt like your life revolved around this damn exam. You couldn't think of anything else anymore. When you woke up in the morning the first thought was to go to study and when you went to sleep the last thought was how much you should’ve study the day after. You knew it wasn't healthy and you knew you were on the verge of loosing your mind.

It was just after midnight when Jay woke up.

He didn't realize he fell asleep and when he touched the side of the bed, he wasn't surprised to find out you weren't there. He sighed before sitting on the bed and standing up, walking towards the living room where – as he suspected – he found you.

You were sitting on the sofa, countless papers scattered around you as you stared at the notes resting on your legs. You went there to let Jay rest after he fell asleep while you studied. At that point, though, you couldn't even understand what you were reading anymore but you didn't want to give up, you couldn't.

Jay approached you from behind and was careful this time to make sure to let you know he was there. “Baby,” he said, placing his hands on your shoulders and starting to massage them. God, you were tighter than a violin string.

That pleasant touch made you close your eyes for a few seconds, throwing your head back and touching Jay's bare abdomen.

“What are you doing awake? Go to sleep honey, it's been a long day for you,” you muttered, eyes still closed as Jay's hands worked their magic on you. He looked down at you and a small smile was born on his lips when he saw the expression of contentment and relaxation on your face.

“I can't go back to sleep knowing you're here,” he replied and leaned over to give you a kiss on the lips “Why don't you come to bed with me? You need to sleep baby, you can't go on like this.”

“I know, but I can't,” you sighed and then opened your eyes, reality hitting you full in the face again.

“Of course you can baby. Do you really think it's good for you to stay up late? I know for a fact you can't even concentrate right now,” he spoke. He let go of your shoulders and walked around the couch to kneel right in front of you, “Your brain needs to rest now, it needs to assimilate and process the information absorbed so far, it can't do that if you keep bombarding yourself with new notions.”

“I know honey but I don't have time... I still have so many things to do,” you murmured, your voice breaking with tiredness and on the verge of crying. Jay lifted his hand and gently stroked your cheek, smiling when you leaned against his touch.

“I know how you feel but this is not good for you my love. If you don't understand what you're studying, if you don't focus on what you do instead of how to do it in the most appropriate way so you can remember it, believe me, the moment you’ll take the exam you won't remember anything because you would’ve bombarded your brain with so much information and haven’t even given yourself time to make it your own,” he stroked your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear that escaped the bun “Don't think about how many things you have to do, it's the most destructive thing you can do baby. You can’t do anything without the constant thought that you have to do this and that, or am I wrong?”.

You slightly shook your head. He was right about every single word he said.

“Better two things done right than ten things done wrong, always remember that.”

“What if I'm asked eight of the ten things I haven't done?”.

“Y/N you underestimate yourself and your abilities,” he spoke softly as you stared at him and listening carefully to what he was saying, “You are one of the most talented people I know, I know you’re strong and nothing will stop you. If anyone is able to pass this exam, it's you.”

“What if I don't make it?” you whispered, your eyes watering.

“Who gives a fuck,” he replied “If you don't make it – which I really doubt – you'll get another chance, and if you don't make it either then you'll get the next chance. I'll still be proud of you like I've never been of anyone else, because I see how much you're committed, how much you're giving your all. But don’t forget this, you mustn't lose yourself, you mustn't sacrifice your health, your well-being for a stupid exam, it isn’t worth it and it will never be, okay? Nothing is more important than you, you understand me?”.

You nodded, trying to pry every ounce of your being to not to cry. You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him like you've never done before. “God Jay, I don't deserve you… I'm so lucky to have you.”

He wrapped his arms around your hips, pulling you close to him and hugging you with all the love and affection he was capable of. His hands drew imaginary circles on your back as he stroked you gently and tenderly in an attempt to soothe you and make all the anxieties and fears that tormented you go away.

You left kisses on his shoulder and then on his cheek, hugging and squeezing him again as if your life depended on it.

“It's okay baby, it's okay, I’ll always be by your side no matter what,” he whispered and your heart made a small jump in your chest, starting to beat wildly. God, you loved that man, so damn much and so intensely you couldn't even describe it.

“I'm so sorry,” you muttered so softly you didn't even know if he heard you. But when he pulled away slightly from the hug and looked at you with confusion, you realized he had heard you instead. “Why, love?”

“I feel like I've been neglecting you these last few weeks because of this damn exam and I feel so guilty… You… You’re so nice and understanding to me baby and I don't deserve you…” You didn't finish the sentence because Jay covered your mouth with his hand.

“Quit this bullshit, okay?” You nodded your head and he removed his hand from your mouth, then placed it on your side. “Don't ever say those things again, do you hear me? I don't know what assholes you used to deal with in the past but it's not a burden to me. God baby, I would kill to make you feel better and get all this weight off your shoulders.”

You smiled. “I love you so much, you know that right?”.

He giggled and he gave you a kiss. “I know and I love you too very much my baby. So how about you come to bed with me and get some rest now?”.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers stroking his hair. You took few moments to admire him, observing every single detail of his face, something you felt you hadn't done for a long, long time.

Jay's hands stroked your lower back as he smiled tenderly at you. His eyes sparkled as they looked at you with so much love you felt overwhelmed.

“Y/N don't look at me like that,” he whispered.

“Like what?” you whispered back, while your gaze alternated between his eyes and his lips and occasionally even on his bare chest.

“With these doe eyes, you know what you do to me.”

“I'm not doing anything,” you licked your lips and that was the point where he lost his mind. He sighed deeply, trying to stop the blood flow to his dick.

“Oh baby you know damn well what you're doing,” he retorted, that panty-ripping grin on his lips. Without saying anything else, you grabbed his face and pulled him into a deep and passionate kiss that left you both breathless within moments.

A confused look came over your face as Jay let go of you, standing up. He went around the sofa and positioned himself behind you, then placing his hands on your shoulders again and starting to massage them carefully.

“Mmmh,” you let out a moan as your muscles melted under his expert and careful touch. That little moan went straight to Jay's dick, he tried to keep his composure and not act like a horny twelve year old but fuck, you were so hard to resist.

“Oh baby, this feels so good,” you moaned as his fingers continued to work their magic on your muscles.

“Y/N. Stop it,” he warned you, not thinking he could keep his cool any longer and not literally fuck you right there and then.

“Doing what?” you asked innocently, smiling even though he couldn't see you.

“Moaning like that. You’re driving me crazy.” Before you could answer he leaned close to you, leaving a small kiss on the bare skin of your neck. That simple gesture was enough to send shivers down your spine and make you forget everything.

“How about we study for a little bit honey?” he whispered and another moan escaped your lips as Jay began to leave small and languid kisses down your jaw, your neck where he lingered and began his intense torture. His lips sucked your skin, his teeth nibbled at it, his tongue licked it making you completely lose your mind. “Come on baby.”

“I… I can’t…” you stuttered, not able to function properly.

“Why not? Wasn't that what you wanted?”.

“God Jay… You drive me crazy…”

“And you know how crazy it drives me to see you in just my shirt? It's been so long since I touched you.” Jay's hands slid from your shoulders onto your chest, then onto your abdomen, with an unbearable slowness you couldn't even keep yourself still.

“Can I?” he asked in a whisper and the speed with which you answered was embarrassing. “Yes, oh my god, yes.”

He chuckled and as his lips started nibbling your ear, his hands slipped under your/his shirt, reaching up to cup your breasts. He started massaging it, pinching your hard nipples with his fingers. “Goddamn baby, I love your breast so damn much... So fucking perfect.”

“Jay please…”

He took off your shirt, thus leaving you with only your panties in front of his lustful gaze. He walked in front of you again and didn't even try to disguise the audacity with which his eyes devoured your body. From your shoulders, to your breasts, going down your sides, your pussy - still for a little while - covered, up to your sinuous legs.

On the other hand, you didn't spare yourself either. Jay was there in front of you and he looked like a fucking Greek god. His muscular arms, his chest and abdomen sculpted as if by a sculptor with a hammer and picket, his V-line that disappeared into the gray suit which did nothing but highlight his throbbing erection. Everything about him drove you crazy and the more you looked at him the more you couldn't wait to have him. God you were so lucky.

Being with him was better than winning the lottery.

“Come here,” you said, when you finally brought your eyes back to him. However, though, you couldn't help alternating them between his face and his erect dick that you so ardently wanted inside you.

“Impatient baby?” he smirked, approaching you. He leaned towards you, placing one hand on the arm of the sofa and another on the backrest, effectively trapping you in his arms. You were intoxicated, mesmerized by his scent, his body, by him.

You placed your hands on his chest, feeling how his skin was on fire. He cocked his head to the side, looking at you with such intensity you almost felt like dying. But the way he licked his lips, like he was the predator ready to devour his prey, God, that completely took the breath away from your lungs.

You leaned in to kiss him but when he pulled back a bewildered expression appeared on your face.

“You don’t even want to kiss me?“ you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh believe me baby, kissing you doesn't even come close to the things I want to do to you. I want fuck every single thing you studied out of your brain,” he replied, making you wetter than you already were. By then you were a complete mess and your pussy was throbbing with the desire to feel his fingers, his tongue, his dick inside you. “But I thought about what I said earlier.”

“Jay please touch me, I can't take it anymore,” you blurted out, not caring in the slightest how pathetic you sounded.

He chuckled, further building the frustration and anger inside you. He kissed you but as you tried to deepen the kiss he pulled back, making you huff with impatience. “I'm hating you so much right now. Stop teasing me like that.”

“Oh my little princess is so impatient, don't worry love I'm not going to leave you like this, fuck, god knows how much I can't wait to have my dick inside you, but I've been thinking about something.”

You rolled your eyes, frustrated and eager. “What?”.

“I think you should continue studying.”

“Wait, what? Are you serious? I'm half naked in front of you and all you have to say is 'you should continue studying'?”.

“Exactly,” he smiled at you, taking the notebook you were studying from and placing it next to you “I'll help you repeat and maybe give you an incentive.”

“Incentive?”.

Jay reached down and placed his hands on your breasts, massaging them vigorously before wrapping his lips around your right tit, sucking, licking and biting your nipple.

You moaned, arching your back to meet his movements. Your hand rested on the back of his neck, as you stroked his hair. A groan escaped your lips when he pulled away from your breasts but your body vibrated with anticipation when his hands descended along your hips, then taking off your panties and throwing them in an indefinite point of the room.

At that moment you were naked, completely at his mercy and you couldn't wait to be used as he pleased.

Your breath died in your throat when Jay, without ever breaking eye contact, spread your legs wide enough to have a perfect view of your wet pussy after settling between them.

“Now you're going to be a good girl and study like you wanted to do and I'll be here to listen to you okay?” he spoke while his hands caressed your thighs as a sign of provocation “In the meantime I will entertain myself by licking this gorgeous pussy of yours.”

“Jay c'mon please. You know very well that… Oh fuck…” you finished the sentence with a loud moan when Jay stuck out his tongue and gave a long, slow lick of your folds.

Just licking you after what he felt like forever was enough to make him moan. The expression of pure ecstasy on your face, God, that vision alone was almost enough to make him come in his pants before you even touched him.

“Shit baby I missed this pussy so damn much,” he murmured in ecstasy, as if he'd just stepped through the gates of heaven, his eyes locked on you as you squirmed under his touch. His thumb drew imaginary circles on your clit, making you moan uncontrollably as pleasure coursed through your veins. “C’mon. Study now.”

“Jay… I… Oh yeah fuck just keep going…” you moaned, your hands resting all over the couch in an attempt to give you some support. Jay, however, suddenly stopped and an unsatisfied groan escaped your lips. “What did I just tell you?”.

“Baby please it's not fair… I can't…” you whimpered like a little girl whose sweets had just been stolen. He nodded at the notebook next to you and, letting out a long series of profanities that made him chuckle, you took it, opening it to any page.

“Now read, I want to hear you talk.”

You did as he said, wanting nothing more than to have an orgasm, and you started reading even if your mind didn't have the slightest idea of what you were saying, too focused on his tongue which then started licking your pussy again.

Jay pressed his nose against your pussy, inhaling your smell, that smell he missed so much, burying his mouth in your folds, making you a mess of sighs, moans and groans, making a mess on his mouth, dripping with your wetness.

Jay never took his eyes off you for a second, licking, sucking on your clit and all your fluids. His tongue alternated slow movements with faster ones, making you lose you mind.

“Keep going. If you stop, I'll stop too,” he spoke but you seemed to be on another planet. He grabbed your thighs, wrapping them around his neck as you spontaneously squeezed him between them. God, he couldn't have been in a better place, he could’ve choked to death like this and still be the happiest man on earth.

You tried to read, you really tried, but it was impossible. Your vision was clouded with pleasure, you couldn't utter a single word without a long series of moans escaping your lips. At that point you were sure that everyone heard you, but you didn't care, you were only focused on Jay, his tongue and the finger he was fucking you with.

“Oh yeah baby you make me feel so fucking good..." you sighed, now out of breath.

“Keep going darling, you're being such a good girl,” he murmured as he ate you as if he was a hungry man who hadn't eaten anything for days. He replaced the finger inside of you with his tongue, fucking you with it. As his tongue went in and out of you, his thumb continued to massage your clit, making you completely lose all ability to think.

You threw your head back, arching your back as you began to feel the orgasm building inside you, your notes now completely forgotten. Your body seemed to go into spasms and you didn't know how much longer you would be able to resist.

“Jay…” you moaned his name and it was so fucking sexy that Jay wanted to record it and put it as his cell phone ringtone. He knew you were close, after a long time together he had gotten to know your body and knew when you were about to come. Your legs were shaking, your breathing was heavy as if you were running, your movements against his face were impetuous, messy. He didn't stop. He started to fucking you with two of his fingers, and as he sucked your clit you finally exploded into an orgasm so intense you thought you were dying.

You didn't know if you could die from an orgasm, have a heart attack because of pleasure, but that's exactly what you felt in that moment and, fuck, it was so beautiful. You felt your vision blur, your body fluctuated as if you were in space and for an instant you lost the space-time conception.

You remained for a few moments with your eyes closed, trying to recover and come to your senses.

Jay was taken aback when after a minute you pulled him to you, kissing him like your life depended on it. His lips and beard were still wet with your fluids and you could feel your taste in his mouth while you deep kissed him.

Your hands pulled down his pants along with his boxers and he kicked them off, standing naked in front of you in all his glory. God you wanted nothing more than to feel it inside you.

“Baby… Oh, holy shit,” he hissed as you wrapped your hand around his dick and started stroking it. “Fuck yes,” his hips began to move in sync with the movement of your hands and his arms struggled to hold him up as the pleasure flowed freely through his veins.

“I need to be inside of you baby, I can't take it anymore,” he groaned, as he tried to leverage all of his strength to try not to come after even a minute.

He settled between your legs, grabbing one and placing it on his shoulder and with almost excruciating slowness he penetrated you, slipping inside you and finally filling that void you felt.

A guttural moan escaped his mouth and he didn't know how he managed not to come instantly. Jay remained in that position, still, trying to enjoy every single moment, feeling your pussy clench, soaking wet, around his needy dick. You started to get impatient, feeling the need to feel him moving inside you growing more and more. “Baby please, fuck me… I need it so bad,” you started moving underneath him, slightly moving your hips to seek some relief, to hit that magical spot inside you and Jay almost had a heart attack, already on the verge of losing control.

“Jesus Christ… Fuck Y/N…” he cursed “It feels so good to be buried inside you… You make me lose my goddamn mind…”

Finally, he began to move his hips, with slow, decisive, calculated movements and the moans you began to make were so hot they could compete with a porn film actress. His dick masterfully fucked you, tortured you and with every single damn thrust he left you wanting, craving for more.

“Jay please… Faster…” you cried out, your hands on his chest. One arm was around your leg while the other rested next to your head on the back of the sofa. Your eyes were fixed on each other, the green of his irises mingling with yours. You never took your eyes off the other even as his dick came out and disappeared inside you with more vigor, more strength and decision this time.

It was a higher level of intimacy, you seemed to be a whole and not only from a physical point of view because it was not only your bodies that made love but also your souls.

“Oh yes baby… Just like that fuck…” you moaned loudly, completely lost in the pleasure Jay was giving you. Your fingers pressed more firmly against his skin, causing him scratches that you didn't even realize at first.

“Baby I won’t last any longer if you keep clenching around me like that,” he breathed out, his eyes alternating between yours and your parted lips. “Please kiss me.”

You lifted yourself slightly and without having him to tell you twice, you fulfilled his wish. It was a messy, wet kiss, both totally lost in each other as he continued to fuck you. You couldn't kiss each other without stopping and moaning into each other's lips, as the sound of your skins filled the room.

“My god… Ah yeah… I love you so fucking much Jay…” you whispered as your faces were still so close, your mouths touching as you swallowed each other's breath and moans.

Jay didn't expect to feel what he felt with that simple statement. It wasn't the words, it certainly wasn't the first time you said you loved him, but it was the way you said it, so vulnerable, in the throes of uncontrollable pleasure while his dick continued to mercilessly fuck you, so sensual but at the same time whispered so softly it made his heart melt.

“Y/N…” he moaned your name like a little prayer “What the hell are you doing to me baby, I love you so much too… Ah… So fucking perfect, shit.”

Jay felt he was close and by the way you clenched around his dick he knew you were too. His movements began to be faster, more disorderly.

“Yes baby you want to come for me mmh? Do you want to fill my pussy with your cum?” you sensually beat your lashes driving him further crazy, while your fingers touched and stimulated your clit.

“Fuck baby, fuck, fuck, I'm coming... Holy shit!” he gasped and with one last thrust he let himself go into an overwhelming orgasm, releasing every single drop of his cum inside you. You came almost immediately too, rocked with the waves of pleasure that continued to course through your body and make you toes curl.

Jay collapsed onto the couch next to you but before you knew it he was pulling you onto him, wrapping his arms around your body and hugging you tightly against him.

If the sex was mind blowing, the cuddles after sex were almost better. God only knew how much you both loved being embraced like this, one on top of the other, your naked and hot bodies in contact.

“Shit if this is how you study for an exam I won't even get up to go to the bathroom,” you murmured, your eyes closed from tiredness. Jay chuckled, his chest vibrating under your head.

“I'll be happy to help you baby, I won't back down you know,” he replied too with his eyes closed as his fingers caressed the bare skin of your back, up and down, from your shoulders to your lower back. “Babe?” he continued when he got no answer. He lifted his head slightly to be able to look at you and a smile crept onto his lips as he noticed you immediately fell asleep.

“My sweet baby,” he whispered, leaving a kiss on your forehead and stroking your now messy and disheveled hair, at the same time letting out a sigh of happiness and contentment. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me you know that? God, I will never stop saying how lucky I was to meet you and have you in my life,” he continued softly giving you another kiss on the forehead, cradling you in his arms, “I'm so proud of you, you can't imagine how much. Now rest okay? I will always be here by your side. Sweet dreams my love.”

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Till Death Do Us Part

SJM Villains Week - Day One - Origin Story

"Are people born wicked, or do they have wickedness cast upon them?" -Wicked the Musical

Summary - Beron had known love once in his life, and even that was ripped from him

Warnings- This fic has some heavy topics. A whole species of fae is hunted for their wings until extinction. While it is not done in great detail, if that will potentially trigger you, please consider skipping this.

Other warnings- reader Death, spousal abuse, domestic, and child abuse inferred, loss of a spouse, death of a mate, in summary, just not my normal happy love story. Edited and formated on my cellphone, long story, if you see errors, you definitely didn't 👀

A/n - Happy @sjmvillainweek day one. I was sent a request about Beron losing the love of his life being his villain Origin story. I bounced between doing this as a mini series or as a one shot, but landed on the one shot due to mini series that end with reader Death not being a personal favorite of mine, plus, writing reader's death after writing 3 parts of her and Beron falling in love was rough. If you all want it, though, let me know I guess? Today is very out of my box, as you all will see with my Maeve fic queued for later, so to those of you who frequently write reader/oc deaths, I truly admire you. This was hard.

🪽Peep the Wings of Prythian headcanons Here 🪽

🗡Villains Week Masterlist🗡Master Masterlist🗡

The stake set in the middle of the grounds was the seal on the impact of Beron's actions. 100 years, 100 happy years of keeping her safe, and now he was locked in his own room, trapped as her execution was set up. 

He should have known better, should have hid her better. Her kind was already rare and in the last 100 years, she was finally the last one. One last trophy to hunt and he had led his father right to her. 

Lifeless wings hung high on his wall, still fresh with the scent of her blood.  The luster they carried was fading, the vibrant burnt orange now a muted tone of its former glory. 

Beron put his head in his hands, the faebane chains around his wrists clanging with laughter as he did. He forced his mind back to a happier time. 

Fire Festival had you running around the small market near where the Leaf Folk lived. Mother needed flour. Father needed wine. Your sisters wanted candy. The first of October was special to you all. To your whole race. It was the start of a 31 day process where the females of your race were courted, married, and the hopes of young offspring came. .

Fire Festival was for lovers. It was for passion. It would be your first year to partake, and while you knew it took some females 3 attempts to meet their match, your wings couldn't help but flutter in hope you would meet yours this year. 

As you day dreamed, supplies in a basket, you were blind to the male watching you. An outsider that had vendors closing their doors and windows with customer's inside, mamas rushing their children into their homes.

A voice cleared behind you, pulling you from your daze, “My lady.” It was instant, that snap of the mating bond tugging and tying you two together into a cursed string. ..

The dark-haired male put his hand to his heart, blindly stepping closer to you. Dark hair sat on top of his head, styled and brushed into perfection despite the evidence he had arrived on horseback. His slender face was handsome. Sharper cheekbones, full lips, a nose reminding you of a hawk beak. His clothing was high end, hugging his body as if he was poured into the material. “Beron,” he spoke to you, ripping you from your study of his figure.

“Y/n,” you whispered back, wings moving slightly to be out of sight.

“I have no interest in those,” he motioned towards them. “Only in the rumors of elder flowers in this area.”

You blinked at him, the olive branch you were about to offer him was dangerous, “I can show you if you vow to never speak of this place.”

Beron fought against his father as he was pulled to the temple. He knew the female he was being forced to marry was nice enough, beautiful, wealthy. He was forced to stand at the altar, a knife held to his little sister's back as he did. Aurelia entered either her normal grace, her own face solemn as the fae stood and she was escorted to him by her own proud father. 

Her dress reminded him of a princess from tales of old. Far too large, puffy, and in a shade of white that did not compliment her porcelain skin and hair like fire. 

They were both silent as they took their vows and the count down to your execution began. 2 hours. 2 hours he'd be forced to spend drinking and all that did was encourage more memories of you.

The pull of the bond became too much the following October, and the letters written on oak leaves could no longer be enough for either of you.

You were taking a huge risk, using the first feast and bonfires to sneak to his hunting cabin just a few miles away from the hidden edge village you'd spent your life in.

Beron was waiting on the porch, eyes coming alive as he heard the sound of your leaf-like wings crinkling as you flew over to him. ..

He caught you quickly, arms going around your waist, pulling your head to his chest. .

The first hug of many.

The first night filled with laughter and stolen kisses that'd come with the next 99 years.

He carried your one bag, frowning at your lack of possessions.

"Is this all you have, my love?”

”All I need,” Your tone was confused. “Did you expect more?”

He had. He had expected more than just the 7 dresses he pulled out. More than the one necklace he had given you. More than one more pair of leather shoes.

Beron glanced at you, chocolate eyes slightly sad, “I'm going to give you the world.”

Beron and Aurelia watched in silence as people drank and danced. “You said you were running,” he whispered under his breath to her. “You said you were leaving to prevent this.”

Aurelia looked at him, her whiskey colored eyes narrowing, “Do you think I didn't try to get him to come grab me? Do you think I sat and did nothing despite our deal?”

He rolled his own eyes, “Careful with your tone, wife,” the word felt like ash. 

“Am I your wife? Or is she locked in the fox holes waiting to be the final show for our wedding? Who else has their marriage start with the burning of their husband's who-”

The slap that came before she could finish that sentence made the room fall into silence. Another beginning. Another drastic change. Beron knew Aurelia had sold out the location he kept you in. Her father had been the one to drag you in, bleeding and crying, dress torn. 

Beron's father motioned for the night to continue like nothing had happened, as if he was beaming with pride at his son striking his wife. 

“Just because he didn't want you after you willingly handed him your cunt, doesn't mean I didn't want y/n. I hope you enjoy both of us being as miserable as you clearly are.” 

She sat wordlessly next to him, holding her cheek. She'd been warning of the heavy hands the Vanserra males carried, but Beron had never been aggressive. He'd always been kind to her. But she knew she was you and clearly Aurelia had gotten herself into dangerous territory. 

Beron watched the clock as it ticked an hour. An hour to day dreamed about you.

The wedding of the Leaf Folk were not performed in a temple, an odd thing for Beron as he stood under the oldest apple tree in the groove. Its twisted trunk and tangled branches were almost menacing as you followed his eye. 

You took his hands, whispering in the old tongue and making the tree light up with runes and stories of lovers wed under its branches. You were the last of your kind. The village somehow found and pillaged in one night. The groove of apples around you both was struggling, dying off slowly as its caretakers became a lost memory. “What do we do now?”

"We close our eyes and feel. We will know if the land blesses our union,” you smiled as you answered, closing your eyes. Fireflies began to fill the area, a slight breeze carrying the sounds of gentle music. You both opened your eyes to the deer to the fireflies.

“What the hell,” he paused. “What is this?”

"Approval from the Mother. She has blessed and signed off on our union,” Your hand went to the new rune in the tree, eyes watering as you followed the curves and slopes. “We're married.”

Beron was forced to stand, shackled again as guards made him and Aurelia walk to where he'd be forced to watch you burn. His family and Aurelia's father too spots near them, the other High fae in attendance whispering as they also took places. Public execution in Autumn was a favorite pastime for the rich high fae. They loved watching the poor, the criminals, the low fae burn or be gifts to the trees, consumed root by root. 

His father had known that wasn't an option with you. Had he given you to the trees, the trees would free you. No true crime was committed, and on top of that, your kind was so closely linked to the trees, your life forces depending on each other. 

Beron had tried to warn his father what killing you would do, how his family would lose control of the trees and the forest, how that was a magic given to his family by the Leaf Folks elders hundreds of years ago. A promise not to hunt them, yet every Nobel here had a pair of those wings on their walls. Fresh ones. 

Beron pulled against his chains as he heard you fighting and screaming in the tongue of your people. He watched as you spit on the male dragging you, watched as you spit on his father. 

You had, in many ways, made Beron's life easier. You had killed two of his brothers during your capture, making him the clear heir. You had stabbed his father with something rumors from the healers say wasn't closing, festering in his skin and muscles like an infection. The look of pride as you looked down from your nose towards his father made Beron smirk. You'd die a warrior. Die with not an ounce of fear but instead a river of rage. 

His wife. His powerful fearless wife.

That sneer didn't change as you were tied to the stake. It didn't change as your so-called charges were read. It didn't change as you waited to be given the ability to speak one last time. 

“The last of your kind, yet you won't beg for your life?”

“No,” you answered his father plainly. 

The High Lord seemed surprised as he spoke again, “So you will curse my son to a life of madness?”

“I've cursed your son and court to so much more than that already,” you glared

It was then that Beron noticed the runes carved into your body in captivity. He held his breath as he read each one. As he read the fate your death would seal for this court and for him.

You had been lied to, told he gave away your location, that he handed you away willingly in exchange for the bride sitting next to him. All lies he would never be able to change.

It looked as if you were praying, but Beron knew the signs of Leaf Folk magic now. He knew what was happening as the wind picked up and lightning struck as your pyre was lit. 

Beron shot out of bed, shaking his head as the nightmare replaying her death was fresh in his mind. He still blamed himself, still blamed Aurelia. 700 years later and he wasn't over her. 

But how could he have been? Her curse was a plague on Autumn. A deep rot that settled into the remaining signs of her village first. Then that grove he had married her in. Then the surrounding forest and villages. It was choking off life in his court. Illness, famine, and death followed in its path.

Her curse had not just taken the forest, though, it had taken him. The lifeless mating bond was doubled by what she had down. Beron lost all sense of emotion and Humanity once she was gone. He lost himself. That much was clear by the scars littering his wife and children. By what he had done to Lucien. 

He had no one to blame but himself.

He knew she was forbidden. A female considered low fae with wings like the rustling leaves of this very court, but Beron couldn't stop himself. He couldn't resist the feel of her soft skin, her scent of spun sugar and apples, her soft hair. Her eyes were his favorite thing, so light and bright. Full of life. 

As he held his chest in bed, his sleeping wife was next to him. It was those eyes that haunted him. Those last words whispered before an execution.

“A plague on your houses, a plague on your court, until a son brave enough to kill for what's right comes forth.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[unadulteratedkr]

~Let's talk about credit~

(not financial credit trust me you don't want to take financial advice from me lol)

No, today I am inviting y'all to the table to talk about the importance of crediting other creators in fandom!

Because, listen. We don't have a peer-review system. We don't have to submit our stuff to a plagiarism checker or go through stringent editing when shitposting on tumblr; we operate in an honor system of crafting folklore using our favorite blorbos, and that means that inspiration and using the specific words and images from canon creates a grey area on what ought to be credited, and how to do it in a way that creates a solid, strong community.

Here's a little of my philosophy and how I give proper credit where it's due, so I figured I'd share them to hopefully encourage others in making sure no one out there ends up becoming fandom's James Somerton

1. Links are your friends, use them enthusiastically

Drooled over a gifset that made you write a poem? Read a fic that made you pull out your embroidery hoop? Saw some art that made you write a song? Link to the original! Tag the original artist, hyperlink to the giffer, share the fic via the amazing shortcut button on Ao3, it's what those creators deserve! Even if it's a shitpost, that creator is where your idea started, and it's the right thing to do to share directly where your audience can connect with the person who inspired you.

This holds INFINITELY true if you are directly quoting someone. If you've used someone else's words to create your own work, link back to the original. No one wants to be sent a fic or a funny post on tumblr and then feel the sinking pit in their stomach when they realize that post is their own words with someone else's name on them.

2. Ask for permission when you can

Now, the reason I threw the addendum on this with "when you can" is because knowing when to ask for permission is more of an art versus a science. I myself have written more than one fic inspired by art where I didn't reach out to the artist before I shared the fic because I had no contact with them (the joys of me refusing to touch the garbage that is the bird site). BUT this is why point number one is to always link back to the original inspiration, because I believe that should always be the bare minimum.

THAT BEING SAID.

If you have a way of contacting the original fellow fandom person who inspired you? Reach out and ask them if they'd feel comfortable with you creating something! 999 times out of 1000, they're gonna be over the MOON you want to create something inspired by what they made, and they'll be really fucking pleased you reached out to check.

3. Ask yourself: is this a "two cakes" situation or am I putting my name on someone else's cake?

This is another one that can absolutely fall into a bit of a grey area. I have written many a fic that started out with me reading a take or a fic that went in a WILDLY different direction from what I was expecting or wanted, and I went "okay, fuck it. I'll write my own." And that's absolutely been a great motivator for me to start a project!

HOWEVER.

That is me creating a different flavor of cake, putting my own frosting on it, and probably adding something weird like lemon zest and instant coffee for a lemonade cappucino chiffon that shouldn't work (but definitely does, trust me)

If I were to have read a fic or a take and then gone, "Oh, yeah, definintely, here's the same idea but now I've rephrased it juuust a little and now it's under MY username on my blog".... that's slapping a different color of frosting on the same cake and claiming it's mine. If you find yourself doing that, I really invite you to pause and consider why you felt the need to do so instead of sharing the original post.

Like, not to bring Shakespeare into it (they say, poorly concealing their icon), but fandom can be exactly like how Juliet views love. Sharing joy in what others have created absolutely can be as "boundless as the sea [...] the more I give [...], the more I have, for both are infinite". It does not take away from the joy your fellow fandom friends will have in your own original work to share the work of others.

4. Hyping up your inspiration is FUN

Finally, this is more of me going "no really, proper credit isn't going to mean people love YOU less" because I truly believe in the power of how much FUN it really is to give credit where it's due. I was buzzing for WEEKS in anticipation of publishing Objection! and The 'I Duoy' Newlywed Special because the marvelous @jackuntiljune had brainstromed with me on the name for the boat my boys eloped on. And I get so fucking giddy when I see someone comment on those fics about the name of the boat because I get to take a giant breath and go "MY FRIEND JACK CAME UP WITH IT, AREN'T THEY AMAZING?!"

If you practice giving credit where it's due, I promise promise PROMISE it will become a joy. It's FUN getting to bring more people into the sandbox to play, and I know I love it when there's more than one person out there I can yell at (affectionate) when I've been emotionally destroyed (again, affectionate) by a gifset or art or fic <3

Thanks so much for reading this far! I can't wait to keep sharing inspiration with all of you out there

[urmom3001]

Apollo’s Favorite (Luke Catellan X Reader)

Summary: Reader gets called upon a quest from her father, a quest where she is destined to never return. Very much similar to Yue in Avatar the last air bender

Warnings!: angsty ish. Fem!Apollo!reader. No happy ending sorta? Erm not proof read😔😔

Percy had just gotten to Camp yesterday. Poor boy, just lost his mother, put into a camp with a bunch of strangers. Percy was rethinking all of his life’s choices when he finally snapped out of it and realised it was all real. He was here, with the counselor of Hermes cabin learning the “Ins and the Outs” at camp.

As they walked they walked around the U shaped cabins they passed Cabin 7. Percy was very attentive and noticed how beautiful the cabin shined. How the sun reflected off of the carefully, crafted pillars of the building. As he admired the cabin..which was way better than Hermes Cabin. He read the plaque just above the doors of the cabin and he noticed a wooden bow and arrow with intricate gold detailing just above the door of the cabin and under the plaque.

“In Great Thanks to Y/n L/n…” Percy read in his head of off plaque. “Hey Luke?” Percy turned to his left,

“Yeah?” Luke answered

“Who’s Y/n L/n, sounds like she’s got a whole bunch of glory.” Percy joked

Luke thought to himself, he looked like he was reminiscing. This alarmed Percy, maybe he hit a soft spot and he didn’t know?

“Yeah she has a lot of glory. She’s known as Apollo’s Favorite”

- Last Year Around the Summer Solstice-

I was shooting arrows at the shooting range when Chiron aproached me. My bow and arrow was my most prized possession, a gift, from my father. Being Apollo’s favorite was, pressuring and nerve racking. The Gods were very bipolar, it could’ve changed in an instant. If you keep trying to understand why the Gods are the way that they are, you’ll drive yourself crazy.

“They are ready for you to choose.” Chiron continued “Follow me” he gestured and he started walking.

I wordlessly followed. I didn’t know who to choose. I knew one thing though, I wasn’t choosing him. I was terrified. The Oracle is always confusing, but this one was very crystal clear.

“One soul is destined to never return back to the place they once called home”

Everyone that attended Camp Half-Blood knew it as home. Somewhere they could belong. One of the three of us is not making it back.

As we got closer to the circle of the camps best, my stomach was churning the words of the Oracle repeating in my head. How would Luke react when I don’t pick him? We go on each others quest all the time. But this one, I just. I don’t think I could live if Luke is the one who didn’t return.

I stood there before all of them. I pointed at an Ares girl, Clarisse, I think. She’s a fierce fighter. “You….and..” I hesitated. I looked at Luke, he was looking straight back at me. “You.” I pointed to one of my half brothers that was right next to him. The look of betrayal showed on his face.

“Very well” Chiron announced. “Pack everything you will need. Your journey will begin Tomorrow morning, and your deadline is, The Summer Solstice.”

I watched as everyone walked away, everyone but Luke of course. I tried to start walking away before he could say anything to me.

I started but he followed “ What the hell was that?” He asked, he sounded furious.

“What do you mean Castellan?” I always called him by his last name.

“You know what I mean L/n” And he called me by mines.

“Because you don’t understand what’s at stake here. This quest changes everything.” I said.

“So why didn’t you choose me. We always go on eachothers quest.” He questioned.

“It doesn’t matter. I need to pack my-“ I started walked as fast as I could now. He cut my words off.

“What’s going on L/n?? What the the hell did the Oracle say to you. I don’t understand why you didn’t choose me”

At this point I was fed up. It was too much. One of us is going to die. It could be me, or it could be one of the other two.

“BECAUSE ONE OF US ISN’T GOING TO MAKE IT BACK.” I finally shouted. I could never keep anything away from Luke Castellan.

“Wha-what?” He stammered.

“One of us, isn’t. Going. To make it. The Oracle said to me. ‘One soul is destined to never return back to the place they once called home’ Don’t you get it?? One of us isn’t coming back. And I’m not going to let you onto this quest because I don’t know what I would do if you died because of me.” I finally let out with a sigh. “Now please, I need to pack.” I left him there. He didn’t say anything as I walked away.

I finally made it back to cabin 7. What if I was the one that would die? I’ve never been scared of death. I always sort of knew my father was going to give me a choice of something being his favorite and all. I never even desired glory. I just wanted to be a kid.

Everyone else was at the archery range or doing other camp activities, so the cabin was empty when I arrived. I started to pack my things. Some clothes, some medicines I had made, and other needs. Finally I looked at my bunk. Above my pillow hung my bow and arrows. Of course I was taking my bow and arrow. I carefully took it off the holder on the wall and placed it on my bag. The mist will cover it once we are in the regular world.

I was almost done when I heard a knock. I knew who it was. If it was one of my siblings they would’ve just come in. “Come in!” I shouted. I was working on making more medicine for the quest.

“Hi Castellan” I said with my back turned to him.

“Refuse the quest.” He said.

“Excuse me? I can’t refuse a quest from my father himself are you nuts?” I didn’t turn to look at him, still working on the ambrosia mixture.

“What if it’s you?” He said, I swear I heard the smallest crack in his voice.

I finally turned to look at him. He was worried I can tell.

“Then it is me. I will die a very famous glorious death.” I said half jokingly.

“This isn’t funny, you can’t die on me Y/n I need you.” He came closer.

My first name coming from him made me wince. He’d only ever called me Y/n when he wanted me to take him serious.

“Luke, everything is going to be okay.” I walked to him and grabbed his hands. “I’ll always be here for you.”

“Always?” He asked as we interlocked hands.

“Always.” I confirmed with a smile. “Come on, Dinner’s gonna begin soon, and I can’t wait for desert they’re having strawberry shortcake!” I said as I dragged him towards the door. I could finish my medicine later.

“Alright alright.” He followed…not that he had a choice or anything.

-Morning of The Quest-

“Thought you could leave without saying goodbye?” I heard Luke say.

I turned around and ran to hug him. “It was too early. I didn’t want to bother you I-“ he cut me off

“Y/n.” I finally looked at him in the eyes. Taking in all of him. If I didn’t come back, this would be the last time I would see him. “You could never bother me” he finished his sentence.

“Okay, I’m sorry, but I really need to get going” I said.

“Right, uhm. Before you go I…” he hesitated.

“You…?” I quipped to make fun of him.

“I uhm wanted to give you this.” He handed me a bracelet, it had all of my favorite colors and it was simple. Just how I liked it. I loved it. “And I have a matching one!”

“Luke, this is..” I looked up at him. “Amazing, thank you I love it. I’ll wear it for the rest of my life.” I hugged him, tighter than I ever had before. This could be our last hug after all.

“Come on!!! STOP MACKING WITH MY SISTER WE NEED TO GET GOING!!” My half brother shouted.

“Leo SHUT UP.” I shouted back.

“You should get going” he said as he hugged me.

“Yeah.” I said disappointedly. “Luke?”

“Yeah?” He looked down. And I finally looked up at him for the last time. And I kissed him. I had never kissed anyone before. But I’m glad I kissed Luke. He kissed me back, and it was like we were made for each other. Like plato had sculpted us out perfectly for eachother. After what seemed like forever we pulled apart foreheads pushed together.

“Don’t die on me. Okay?” He said as he he looked into my eyes.

“You’re never getting rid of me Castellan” I smirked as I started walking away.

And so we set off on our quest, hoping for the best. As I looked back at camp over my shoulder. I saw Luke standing there waiting for me to leave his line of sight before going back to his cabin. He waved as a looked back. And I waved too.

-Current Day, Camp Half-Blood-

“She’s the soul of the Sun now.” Luke answered monotonely. “Every century, Apollo picks a new soul to be the Sun, otherwise the Sun wouldn’t shine without a soul.” He explained to Percy. “Y/n L/n was the soul he chose to be the next Sun. We didn’t think it would be Y/n. Everyone knew she was Apollo’s favorite but, we didn’t know the reason she was, was because she was the next Sun.” He said.

“So this Y/n girl, she’s..that?” Percy said as he pointed to the sun.

“Yup.” Luke confirmed.

“She went into the quest knowing that one of them wasn’t going to make it. She knew there was a big chance it was going to be her but, she went on the quest anyway.” Luke went into detail.

“Wow she’s..really brave. I guess that’s why she has a plaque in her honor?” Percy asked.

“Yeah, her siblings fought for it to be done. She was so young you know? She was, brave, kind, and so smart. She was amazing.” Luke noticed he might’ve said a little too much when Percy questioned.

“Were you close with her?” Percy asked.

“Yeah, she was..we were..it’s complicated.” Luke muttered.

“You guys loved eachother..huh?” Percy picked up.

“Yeah,” Luke sighed. “I loved her a lot. I never got to tell her. How could I not though? She was so perfect. Down to earth. She never wanted all of the glory and monsters. You know?” Luke said. He hadn’t talked abt Y/n in ages. Of course she was always on his mind. But he never really talked about her anymore. He couldn’t bring himself to.

“Yeah. I know the feeling.” Percy felt exactly like Y/n. He didn’t want to be a half blood. He didn’t want glory. He didn’t want any of this.

“Well, uhm. We should get going, we have a tight schedule.” Luke said as he started walking away. Percy followed. As they walked together. Percy noticed Luke adjusting a bracelet on his wrist a lot after talking about Y/n.

“Yup..” Percy thought to himself “ …Definitely hit a soft spot.”

A/n: Ermmmmmm this is my first work pls be nice😔😔💔💔💔 constructive criticism is VERY much welcome and erm I hope u enjoyed :3

[paddockletters]

our place | trent alexander-arnold

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x reader summary: just a peaceful drive along the coast, enjoying each other's company author's note: as I always say... english is not my first language so sorry me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀

The car hummed steadily along the coast, the sky a soft wash of pinks and oranges as the sun set in the distance. Trent’s hand rested casually on the gear shift, the other holding mine. We weren’t saying much—just enjoying the simplicity of being together. The wind blew through the open windows, filling the car with the salty sea air, and I couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful it all felt.

“You’re quiet,” Trent said, glancing over at me with a teasing smirk. “Planning your next move in case I make you drive?”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “If you’re expecting me to take the wheel, you’re dreaming. I know my strengths and driving isn’t one of them.”

Trent chuckled, giving my hand a small squeeze. “You’re just scared because you know I’ll be an annoying teacher.”

“You? Annoying? Never,” I replied sarcastically, though my grin gave me away.

He glanced over, a playful glint in his eyes. “You think I’m kidding, but one day I’ll get you behind the wheel. Mark my words.”

The drive continued in comfortable silence, the kind of silence that only came after spending years together. We didn’t need to fill every moment with words, and sometimes, that’s what I loved most about us—how easy it was. How natural.

I remember the first time we met, on that cold, rainy afternoon in London. I had just moved into the city, lost and carrying boxes up a flight of stairs that seemed never-ending. Trent had appeared out of nowhere, offering to help, his lopsided grin catching me off guard. He was polite, too polite even, and his easy charm was disarming. I didn’t realize until hours later that he was that Trent Alexander-Arnold—the rising star of English football. But at that moment, he was just a boy who helped a stranger carry boxes in the rain.

“You look like you could use some help,” he had said, his voice warm despite the rain pouring down around us.

I had laughed, wiping the raindrops from my face. “Is it that obvious?”

He had grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “A little. Let me take that for you.”

“Thanks for the help,” I had said, extending my hand. “I’m—”

“Exhausted?” he had joked, cutting me off. “I can tell.”

I had laughed again, feeling an instant connection. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“I’m Trent, by the way,” he had said, extending his hand once we had finished unpacking.

““y/n, I’m completely exhausted,” I had joked, wiping the rain from my face. “But it’s nice to meet you too.”

That had been the beginning. From that moment on, our lives became intertwined—late-night conversations, spontaneous coffee runs, long drives through the countryside when we needed to escape the city. Everything with Trent felt easy, natural, like he had always been a part of my life.

We started dating 9 months later and moved in together 1 year before. Our flat was small, but it was ours, filled with mismatched furniture, memories of trips we’d taken, and the kind of love that felt like home. Every corner of that space held a memory—a favorite song hummed in the kitchen, late-night dancing in the living room, lazy Sundays spent tangled in each other’s arms and now.

Now, here we were, 3 years later, driving down the coast, just the two of us, no destination in mind. Trent had always been spontaneous—he’d wake up one day with an idea, and before I could blink, we’d be off on some adventure. I wasn’t like that by nature, but being with him had made me appreciate these unplanned moments.

As we neared a little seaside town, Trent slowed the car down, pulling into a parking spot near the beach.

“Let’s get out,” he said, turning off the engine.

I followed him out of the car, the sound of waves crashing in the distance and the faint chatter of people walking along the boardwalk filling the air. Trent slipped his hand into mine, leading me toward the sand.

“What’s the plan?” I asked, smiling up at him.

“No plan,” he said with a grin. “Just thought we could walk a bit.”

We strolled down the beach, our feet sinking into the cool sand as the last rays of sunlight faded below the horizon. It was the kind of evening that felt like it could stretch on forever—quiet, peaceful, but full of unspoken things.

“Do you remember the time we got caught in the rain?” Trent asked.

I laughed, nodding. “Which time? There’s been more than one.”

“The first time,” he said, grinning. “When we were moving your stuff into your flat.”

“Oh, yeah,” I chuckled. “I thought you were just being polite, helping me out. Had no idea you were this big football star.”

He shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “I wasn’t that big back then. You were the one who caught my attention, not the other way around.”

“Smooth,” I teased, leaning up to kiss him softly.

He smiled against my lips. “I mean it, though. I’ve always been yours, you know that, right?”

I felt my heart swell at his words. I knew. I had always known. “And I’ve always been yours.”

“Do you ever think about the future?” Trent asked, his voice breaking through the soft lull of the ocean.

I looked at him, surprised by the question.

“Of course. I mean, I think about it all the time. Why?”

He shrugged, his eyes focused on the horizon.

“I don’t know. Lately, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Us, I mean.”

I smiled softly, watching the way the fading light danced across his face. “You’ve always been the future-planner between us.”

He turned to face me, his expression more serious than before.

“Yeah, but this feels different. I’ve been thinking about what it’d be like to marry you.”

My breath caught in my throat for a moment, and I stopped walking, letting his words sink in. We’d joked about marriage before, in passing, but this felt different. The way he said it, the way he looked at me—it wasn’t just a casual idea anymore.

“Are you serious?” I asked, my voice softer than I intended.

Trent smiled, taking both my hands in his. “I’m always serious when it comes to you.”

I let out a shaky laugh, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside me.

“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

He nodded, his thumb gently brushing over my knuckles.

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t see why not. I’ve known for a while now that you’re the one.”

I bit my lip, trying to keep my emotions in check, but it was impossible not to feel overwhelmed by how much I loved him in that moment. Trent had always been good at making me feel loved, but this was different. This was him laying everything on the line, telling me he wanted a future together, and I knew without a doubt that I wanted the same.

“I love you,” I whispered, stepping closer to him.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “I love you too. And you know what?”

“What?”

“This will be our place,” he said, motioning to the beach around us. “The place where we decide to spend forever together.”

Later that evening, after grabbing some food from a local spot, we found ourselves sitting on the sand, wrapped up in blankets, watching the stars as the waves rolled in. It was one of those perfect nights where everything felt right.

Trent nudged me with his elbow.

“You know we’re going to have to tell people eventually, right?”

I groaned, burying my face on his chest. “Do we have to?”

He laughed, pulling me into his side. “Yes, we do. But... let’s keep it between us for a little while longer. Just you and me.”

I smiled, leaning into him. “Yeah. Just us.”

For now, that was all we needed.

[moirindeclermont]

Day 14 of my Polin Kinktober and today the prompts are overstimulation and toys... This is also a more modern AU. As always I hope you have fun and have a great week!!

If was after some months they started dating, when Colin discovered The Drawer.

The Drawer was were Pen kept all of her toys - much less used now Colin was like j her life.

He looked at her with a surprise expression, that soon becomed hungry. By now, she knew that expression well, even if it still surprised her to find it directly at her.

"Cancel our plans for the weekend," he said to her and Pen knew she was in deep trouble.

Luckily their plans for the weekend included just a dinner reservation and a spa, that could easily be postponed on Monday. Which worked for her, truly, because she would probably needed it.

Colin patted the bed.

"I think we are going to start with these..." He said, taking out her nipples clamps.

Fuck, she was already feeling so wet. She loved those.

She took her top off, not wearing a bra under since she was at home and he smiled at her. "Bloody hell, Pen. I'll never get over these."

He took out all of her toys (shit shit shit) and then he was beside her in an instant, kissing her and groping her tits.

He sucked on each nipple for a while, before taking her clamps and pinching each on of her nipples. The chain that connected the two clamps was in Colin's hand, who was watching her reactions.

He guided her to lie on the back, the clamps moving with her and making her bite back a moan, as he took off her shorts.

Colin opened her legs, touching her with a finger.

She moaned. He smiled to her.

"Tell me, my love, which one will be out first one?" She had a small vibrator, a rabbit , a dildo and a anal plug. She took the vibrator, the smaller one, and give it to him. Colin licked his lips, and made her feel the silicon on her labia, before circling her clit lightly. He kissed her there briefly, before he gave her a wicked smile. He turned on the vibrator and made her gasp when it made contact with her sensitive flesh.

"Is this one your favorite?" He asked, and she shook her head. Truth to be told, she didn't use it that much, being a recent purchase. Yet, the effect on her as Colin watched her was powerful. She could tell she was already on a verge of an orgasm.

All it took for her to come was his fingers inside her, while the vibrator was still going on her clit. He discarded it quicky, kissing and licking her but avoiding where she was most sensitive... For now.

When she saw him taking the dildo, she gulped. It was a nice one, less thicker and less longer than Colin.

The man in question groped her again, the nipples still attached to the clamps, making her gasp and cry as he asked her to take the dildo in her mouth. She did as asked, wetting the silicone piece while he was still fingering her. She was still somehow sensitive but when he took out the dildo and asked her to bounce on it, she couldn't get to her knees fast enough.

He watched her as she aligned the dildo and as she was sliding down, she realized that the motion would cause her t1ts to bounce as well, the resulting stimulation being insane. Colin was waiting for her, because he knew. He was now naked as well, touching himself slowly, watching her with lust and desire in his eyes.

She complied though, starting to bounce.

"It's like mine?" He asked and she shakes her head again.

"No, Colin! You fill me so well... Ahhh. I feel empty now," she said as he took the small vibrator, turn it on again and put in on her clit. Pen could not form words at this point, coming hard on the dildo and collapsing near Colin who kissed her deeply. "Want to go on?"

She smiled at him. Yes, she was going to be a Pen-puddle after but what a way to go.

He made her lying down again, taking out both the dildo and the vibrator.

He cuddled her for a bit, before starting torturing her again... This time with the plug. To be fair, it wasn't a big one. She was working her way up and it was a decent medium size. Still... As Pen watched him lubricating it, she wondered how many orgasms he hoped to get from her. Colin kissed her slowly, using a finger to get inside her ass as his lips make her lose her mind on her cunt. It was slow and maddening and when he started pushing the plug she was more than ready.

What she was not ready for and didn't expect was for him to take her trusted and loved rabbit as well.

She looked at Colin, almost panicking, but he soothe her nerves with gentle words.

"I think you can take it love. Do you want to try?"

She kissed him, scratching his forearms. She nodded. Fuck, she was mad.

She was so wet that her fears were proven wrong in a matter of seconds, as her rabbit slide in her, the small attachment sitting comfortably on her clit.

And then, the real torture began.

Colin turned the rabbit on. Her hips almost jumped as the pleasure was almost too much. He helped the rabbit staying in position, she was so wet it almost escaped out of her body, but Colin was relentless.

Beyond words, beyond even moans, all Pen could do was whimpering and sobbing as he took her to another universe and back.

A soundless scream torn out of her as she started to come again, her legs trembling as she used Colin to anchored herself.

He seemed pleased, Pen noticed when she was back in this reality.

She was tingling everywhere and could not believe she has a single orgasm in her still.

How wrong she was.

Colin took the toys out, put them on a towel to be cleaned later and then he was back on the bed.

He touched her clit, making her wanting to move his hand away. "I know baby, I know... But I want one more. Can you give me one more?"

She nodded. She could not move but she would done everything for him.

"I'll do everything, darling," he said, aligning himself and thrusting slowly into her.

He touched her breasts, still attached to h clamps. "Are you ready?" He said, preparing to remove the clamps. She took a big breath and nodded. He took them swiftly, her cunt clenching around him as a wave of pain mixed with pleasure overtook her. Then, he took her right leg, lift it and flip her on her side, before starting thrusting again.

She was almost weightless, as she navigated the waves of pleasure. She lost cinta on her orgasms as he took her, until she almost screamed his name and he pulled himself out, liquid gushing out of her. "Shit, Pen," she heard him say as he release on her thigh.

The next thing she knew, Colin was next to her. "Love, can you get up a bit, I'll change the sheets."

He accompanied her to the loo, before quickly taking out the sheets and putting new ones.

Then, he was back with her, bringing her to the bed freshly made. "You rest, my love. You did amazing. So hot and so good for me. Next time you'll try them on me," that was the last thing she heard before feeling hike cuddling her as sleep overtook her.

She never slept so good in her life.

[a-single-white-crow]

Household Spirits

Household sprits are personal favorite of mine. There are many examples in media of homes being alive or sentient. A famous Slavic example is the walking home of the Baba Yaga. In Western culture, we have the Castle from Howl's Moving Castle; if not from the book, then from the famous Studio Ghibli film of the same name. And seen in an absolute favorite film of mine, the 2006 animated film Monster House.

Now, what is a household spirit?

Simply, an entity or energy that specifically protects the home and Household

(Some may see their home as an energy/feeling in the home. If this energy is truly a Spirit or just the energy given to the home I’m unsure. So, for the sake of this topic, I will also be calling this energy a Household Spirit.)

There are two main categories of this Spirit. That of Deities and those of lesser Spirits.

House Deities are much more powerful and grand. They focus not on one home but many or all.

An example of a household Deity could be the Greek Goddess of Hearth; Hestia.

As for the lesser forms, they are more local. Focused on individual homes and households. They are a Spirit for the people.

Some examples of these Spirits are...

Brownies, Scottish (also taken by Irish)

Kobold/Hobgoblin, German

Lares, Roman

Gasin, Korea

Domovoy, Slavic

Nissie, Norwegian

These Spirits, as one can assume, were worshiped in the home. Some would have a small Idol/Effigy to represent the Spirit on a shrine, while others were seen more as members of the family. Going as far as to even invite them for family meals.

Personally I find caring for a household Spirit to be a priority. If nothing else they help fill one's home with wanted healthy energy. As an ignored home and Household Spirit can become dull, ill, or tired. Leading the home to become more susceptible to unwanted hauntings and negative energy filling the space.

For myself, my Household Spirit is genuinely one of my favorites to work with. His personality is so full. He has given myself and my husband so much motivation when working on our home.

It's not always happiness and rainbows with him though. He has caused a bit of trouble when he feels the need to. When I first started working with him, I let him know immediately that my husband is autistic and has adhd while I have adhd and have minor hoarding tendencies. So we can struggle with simple chores sometimes. I was clear with what to expect from us as our household Spirit. And because of this, he sometimes needs to get creative. I had a bathroom mat that was so worn and used the bottom of it was peeling away and leaving rubber bits everywhere. I kept saying I should replace it but I just never did. Years I kept that same rug. A week into working with our Household Spirit that rug was nudged towards the bathroom trashcan, rolled up slightly, and just anyway he could he pointed myself and my husband towards getting rid of the old worn thing. We never did. Always getting distacted or forgetting about it. Until one day we went into the guest bathroom and the rug was stained beyond saving. Completely destroyed. This forced instant action. We couldn't put it aside and it gave me the push to actually toss it. Since then he hasn't acted so drastically. But even then, I appreciated his act as it was the final kick I needed to get rid of that rug.

The moral of this story is to say...

They know how to get a job done. Make sure to let them know they are appreciated, and they will make it worth your while. And remember, they aren't messing around.

Offerings

Food (ie. Bread, sweets, fruits, ect.)

Drink (ie. Wine, Water, tea, dairy, ect.)

Speaking with the Spirit: Saying “Hello” when you come home

Lighting a Candle

Coins and trinkets

Creating of getting an effigy/Idol for the Spirit

***Note for Brownies and Hobs- Although they wear rags or "peasant's clothes". Never give them clothes. It is an ultimate insult for them, and they will leave***

What does a Household Spirit do?

Helps clean your home- Both in a literal sense and in a spiritual sense

You can leave an offering to your House Spirit asking them to protect your home while you are away for long periods of time.

Bring good luck

Find lost things

Certain types are known to leave gifts- Kobold/Hobgoblin

Can be mischievous or down right evil if mistreated- Breaking items or stealing things

When moving away does a Household Spirit go with you?

Answer: Depends on the Spirit

Some House Spirits are more like a Household Spirit meaning family and not house specific.

Others like the Domovoy of Slavic folklore are a house specific spirit. Meaning, when you move that specific Spirit stays.

When leaving being a House Spirit (as the Domovoy) make sure to perform a Ritual of Thanks to show appreciation, allow the Spirit to understand why you are leaving, and so the House Spirit will treat the next family with respect.

If there are ever any questions about whether your House Spirit should come or stay don’t be afraid to ask. Sometimes, even just your intuition is an answer.