#They hate each other but they kiss secretly

[robertsfloyd]

bunny

lando leaves his little pet home alone, has to deal with the consequences when he gets home

lando norris x bunny girl!reader

warnings: smut, pillow riding, thigh riding, power imbalance, angst, bunny girl is kinda gross (not taking care of herself), brat bunny, makeshift toys (hairbrush, don't do this), bratty reader, hints of dumbification, fingering, penetration, multiple orgasms

yes ik this is weird! but i love hybrid fic! they're so fun!

a week.

you had been left on your own for a fucking week.

this wasn't how it was supposed to be. a few days at most, but never a week. never a fucking week.

you sobbed into his pillow, soft ears drooping in front of your face. it wasn't fair. it wasn't fucking fair! you weren't supposed to be on your own for this long, you weren't supposed to take care of yourself for this long.

why even get a sweet little pet like you if you're not gonna take care of it?

you sniffled as you sat up and looked at the bed. his bed, the bed he let you sleep in when you felt lonely and needy (which was every night). the bed you'd been secretly sleeping in since he went away for the race weekend.

(secretly. he knew. he knew you spent every night in his bed, surrounding yourself in the comforting smell of him whenever he wasn't there. as much as he pretended to scold you, your pouty lips and wide eyes stopped him).

but the scent from his bed had been fading. his pillow no longer smelt like him, where you had gripped it between your thighs as you brought yourself to orgasm, pretending it was his leg. your whines and cries filled his monaco apartment, but they weren't accompanied by his answers, his praises.

you hated it.

you hated being alone.

a week. after a week he walked through the door of the apartment. you wiped your nose with the back of your hand, used your fluffy ears to wipe away your tears. you were a mess, wearing the same shirt of his you were wearing when he left you.

as soon as the door clicked, the lock sliding out of place as he let himself in, you were up. if you were normal, if you were like the 'girlfriends' he brought back, you wouldn't have heard it.

(girlfriends. that was what he called them. some you only saw once, sitting in your own room with a pout on your face as you listened, wishing he was you. some came over more than once, becoming so bold as to pet your ears as you ate your dinner. you hated it.

no matter what, you were always his number one girl).

"bunny?"

you ran into his arms. lando dropped his bags to wrap his arms around you, to hold you against his chest. to give you everything you had been craving since he left.

"i miss you!" you cried, hiccupping through your sobs.

his hand moved up and down your back as he held you light. "my girl," he whispered and tucked your head against his chest. "my sweet girl. i didn't mean to disappear for a whole week."

"why did you?" you asked through a sob, fists holding his shirt so tight, he was sure you would never let go.

"i was with-" lando said her name and you pulled away, scowling. her. the girlfriend that had tried to pet your ears. he was choosing her over you, his best girl.

it wasn't fucking fair!

you pulled away from him, a scowl on your face. you scowled a lot in the early days, when he first adopted you. you had been used to the other bunnies, sleeping in a big pile, kissing each other sweetly, gently. but then lando adopted you, brought you home, and you lost that comfort.

everything he asked of you in those early days was met with a scowl. but he found a way to fix it, found a way to reward you. he tried everything, treats and pets and more. the thing that worked? making you cum.

"bunny," lando called as you walked away from him. a day of travelling and he was exhausted. all he wanted was to cuddle up on the sofa with you, hold you in his arms as you waxed poetic about how happy you were to have him home.

but, instead, you were ignoring him, pouting as you disappeared into the apartment.

"bunny!" he called again, dumping his bags by the door. he could deal with that later. first, you.

you threw yourself onto your bed as dramatically as you could. your little cotton tail was poking through your grey shorts (disney in theme, but you didn't care about that. you card that they were cute, they were comfortable and, when you had them, lando couldn't keep his hands off of you).

he strode into your room, the door hitting the bookshelf beside it. he stared down at you, trying to stop his expression from softening. you were being a brat and it needed to be dealt with.

"bun."

you kicked your legs dramatically.

he caught your ankle. "stop," he said, voice commanding and authoritative. you hated it.

turning, you glared at him.

"you're being a brat," he said. you couldn't help the way your ears perked up. literally, they raised up, away from your face, allowing lando to see the pink underneath. immediately, he knew he had your attention.

a grin crossed his face. "like that, bunny?" he asked asked as he dragged you to the end of your bed. your shorts were short enough that he could see the swell of your bum, the little pink underwear beneath.

he flipped you over and a squeal left your lips. his girl. his best girl. that was who you were.

"you just want my attention, don't you, bunny?" he said it so sweetly, almost mockingly. "you've been needy since i've been away."

you nodded pathetically, dumbly. "please," you whispered. your pout had turned from grumpy to needy. fuck, you needed him. you had needed him for an entire week. it would have been a miracle if there was no wet patch in your shorts.

he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your shorts and pulled them down. "oh, bunny," he whispered when he looked at your underwear. "so fucking wet. have you been good for me, bunny?"

no, you hadn't been good. you hadn't been able to refrain from touching yourself while he had been gone. wrapped up in his sheets, face buried in his pillow (before it began to smell like you cunt), you touched yourself, desperately wishing your fingers were his own, desperately wishing the too thin handle of your hairbrush was his cock.

but you nodded. you were a fucking liar. as long as he made you cum before he found out.

his fingers moved over your clothed cunt. a whimper left your lips. his fingers, so much more talented than your own. "just what my bunny needed, huh? someone to touch her?"

you nodded again, whimpers leaving your lips. "don't worry, gorgeous," he whispered. "i'm here, now. you can switch off your bunny brain now."

you just wanted him to touch you, just wanted his fingers inside of you. his name left your lips again and again and again and again. you knew what you wanted, you just couldn't vocalise it.

but lando took pity on you. he hooked his finger around your underwear and pushed it to the side, showing just how wet and sticky you were. a pathetic mess, but you were his pathetic mess.

two fingers inside of you. they were thicker than anything else you'd fucked yourself with over the past week. the toys he had bought you before he went away. they hadn't been enough; none of it had been enough

but his fingers, they were magic. a relief from that need you had been feeling for a week.

but you wanted more.

you wanted his cock. "easy, bunny," he said when you wiggled against him. "what do you need?"

"cock," you managed as you tried to reach for him, tried to hold his wrist still so you could ride his fingers. but lando settled his arm across your abdomen, holding you still.

he grinned as he looked at you, eyes shining. "need my cock, bunny?" he whispered as he moved his hand over your stomach, pushing your shirt up slightly. "greedy thing."

he was right, you were greedy. you were greedy and you didn't care who knew it as you begged for his cock.

flipping yourself over, you got onto your knees. your cotton tail moved from side to side as you wiggled your ass, presenting yourself for him. lando patted your ass, hand gentle and loving. "okay, bunny. i got you."

you heard as he unbuttoned his jeans, larger ears picking up on the sounds. he pulled his cock from his boxers and pulled you back, pulled you flush against him.

his cock rubbed against you. not pushing between your folds, just rubbing against your thighs. it was so damn tempting to push your legs together, to fuck your perfect thighs and leave you high and dry. that was just what you deserved for being a brat.

but he couldn't deny your cries and whines. he shushed you, trying to be so damn gentle as he pushed into you. his thumb moved over your bum cheek, trying to be soothing as he filled you for the first time in a week.

whines and whimpers filled your bedroom. it was rare he fucked you in your too small bed, one you couldn't cuddle in after. but you started moving your hips, rocking against him. "that's it, bunny," he whispered, his own eyes falling shut.

he let you use him, let you fuck yourself on his cock until you came, legs shaking it. it was quick, a testament to how fucking needy you were. his fingers helped, playing with your clit to push you over the edge so damn quickly.

the bunny in you kept you going. "god fucking damn," lando grunted as he began moving, fucking into you, pushing his cock through your folds again and again. you milked him as you let him pull you back onto him.

it was a release both of you needed. a good fuck after a long day of travelling. a good fuck after a week of being alone.

no wonder you both came to quick.

but lando held out. he held himself back, touched you some more to get you to cum for the second time. you spasmed around him, his hands holding your hips to keep you up as your legs gave out. "that's it, bunny," he said through grunts. "almost there."

he came. he spilled inside of you, hips stilling as he slumped over you. breathing heavy, he leaned over you and pressed a kiss to your neck. "feeling better now, bunny?" he asked gently.

you wrapped your legs around him, keeping him inside of you. "take me to the next race."

he laughed, breath fanning against your neck as he held you tight. "you know i can't do that, bunny," he mumbled as he went to stand up.

but you were still attached to him. even when he stood up, your arms and legs were still locked around him. "i promise i won't leave you alone for another week."

you hummed as he took you back to his bedroom. back to the big bed that you loved so much. "better fucking not," you muttered and he swatted your ass.

[heeaara]

FOR YOU, i WOULD ✴︎⠀ ( 정원의 남자친구 ) 𓈒𓈒 ╰—hand in hand, you & me. today, tomorrow, forever.

𝒥 ｡｡ bf ━ yang jungwon + 𝑓.reader ⟡ wc650, cw 𓂃 relationship, skinship, petnames, headcanons ? overall fluff ♡ .

ARA's NOTE : second post on blr, lets goo. took a little layout inspo from my one & only IT GiRL @flwrstqr. dani ilysm TT. also, this fic is mainly dedicated to my one & only jungwon girl @vmpivory. hope y'all enjoy reading it TT.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would always give you forehead kisses for every chance he gets. Forehead kisses is his way of showing pure affection and adoration towards you, His forehead kisses gave you a feeling of protectiveness. Because, let's be honest, a forehead kiss isn't just a kiss, its a promise. And, you knew yang jungwon wasn't the one who broke promises, he keeps them like an oath.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who gives you butterflies even with the smallest gestures. He never fails to make you flustered with his cutest smiles, and not to mention, his compliments always had your heartbeat at the fastest speeds. He knew the kind of impact he had on you and he utterly loved it, he loved how your cheeks would turn red even at the slightest and smallest accolade. 

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would absolutely turn into a baby for your attention. He loved being pampered by you, and it wasn't like you hated it. You loved it when he would turn into a little fluff ball and being all sulky, craving your attention. You loved the way he would use his boba eyes to manipulate you, not that you hated it, you wanted to actually hide him inside your pocket, that's how cute and irresistible he was. 

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would always boop your nose whenever he wants to annoy you because he loved seeing his girlfriend being all pouty. You secretly loved it when he did that, it was something, actually ━ a kind of a gesture of pure love and tease. It was the kind of motion only you two understood only. It was his way of telling you that he treasured you and his unbounded love for you.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who wouldn't even go a day without cuddling with you. To be accurate, you were like his teddy bear without whom he couldn't sleep a night. Cuddles with you were his favorite thing. Having the both of you tangled with each other, having to have you in his arms was like a beautiful dream from which he would never want to wake up from. 

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who loves surprising you with planning and taking you to small, cute dates. Like going on a spontaneous hike, trying new foods, or exploring new places together. As well as, he would take you to small ice cream dates considering how much you loved and were obsessed with ice cream. He loves spending time with you.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would totally destroy the whole damn world if something happens or something bothers his girl. He indeed was the cutest and with the kindest heart but when it came to his loved ones, he would actually turn into a monster to protect them. He had a protective nature and you always felt safe with him.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would give you the best acts of services. From holding your bag or carrying your heels to letting him do the dishes or cook the meal for the night. One of his actions that showed how he loved and cared for you.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would send you small, cute texts throughout the day to check up on you. You loved it when he did that. Whenever you both are away from each other, his texts are the only thing that keeps you motivated and you loved the way it would lighten up your mood or distract you from the biggest of stresses. You knew, he was always there for you.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would love you for who you are, always, and forever.

TAGLiST : @haerinheartss @flufflights @vmpivory @manaah02 @sugarikiz ( imk if u want me to add you to my taglist ).

[writeriguess]

Hey hun! Welcome back 😘

So, i have a kind of slow burn idea for a Bakugo x fem!reader fic. They both like each other and when she tries to ask him out or talk to him about it, he's kind of an ass 😅

He thinks she'll be in the way or a distraction to his goal, so he pushes her away. He can't get her out of his head though and their friends tell him he's being an idiot. Eventually, he cracks and tells her (in his very 'katsuki' way) that he does want to be with her.

Angst ending with lots of fluff, confessions, and a kiss please!

author's note: Thank you so much! <3 I just wanted to say that your idea was incredible, and I had such a great time writing it. It turned out to be much longer than I expected, but it was definitely worth it!

Heart of Dynamite

It started with stolen glances. You weren’t sure when you first noticed, but something about the way Bakugo Katsuki acted around you was different. He wasn’t nice, not by any stretch of the imagination, but there was something else buried beneath the rough edges and sharp remarks. A fleeting glance when he thought you weren’t looking. The way he always seemed to hover nearby during group exercises, subtly ensuring you didn’t get caught off guard.

You weren’t blind. You saw the way his crimson eyes would flick to you during lunch, only for him to look away just as quickly if you caught him. You noticed how his explosions during sparring would seem almost… controlled when directed your way—less destructive, more calculated. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make you wonder. Enough to make you hope.

The problem was, Bakugo being Bakugo, he’d never admit to something as human as feelings. If he did like you, he was keeping it buried under a mountain of anger, pride, and whatever complicated emotions made up Katsuki Bakugo.

But still, the moments added up. And with each passing day, your crush grew stronger. You hated the way your heart fluttered when he called you by name instead of his usual nicknames for everyone else. You hated how you’d secretly look forward to his biting remarks because, in some twisted way, it was his version of paying attention to you.

And most of all, you hated how much courage it took to even consider confessing to him.

After weeks of agonizing over it, you finally decided you couldn’t live with the "what if." No matter what, you needed to know.

The opportunity came on a rare quiet evening at the dorms. Everyone else had gone out for karaoke, leaving you and Bakugo alone. He was sprawled on the couch in the common area, his arms crossed, staring at some mindless action movie playing on the TV.

You hovered at the doorway, your heart racing. You almost turned back, but then his gruff voice interrupted your thoughts.

"What the hell are you standing there for? You look like a damn idiot."

You flinched, but quickly steeled yourself. "I just… needed to ask you something."

His gaze flicked to you, crimson eyes narrowing slightly. "Then spit it out already. Don’t waste my time."

Your hands were clammy as you stepped closer, each word feeling heavier than the last. "Do you… want to go out with me? Like, on a date?"

For a moment, Bakugo just stared at you. His usual scowl didn’t shift, but you could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes—so quick you almost missed it. His jaw tensed, his hands clenching into fists on his lap.

Then, he scoffed. Loudly.

"You serious?" he said, leaning back against the couch like your question was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. "Why the hell would I want to go out with you?"

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your throat tightened, and your chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

"I mean, come on," he continued, his tone sharp and cutting. "What makes you think I’d waste my time on something dumb like that?"

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but not from embarrassment—from the sting of his rejection. You struggled to keep your voice steady. "I just thought… maybe—"

"Well, you thought wrong," he cut you off, his voice cold and unrelenting. "So stop acting like some lovesick idiot and get over it."

The silence that followed was unbearable. You felt like the floor had been ripped out from under you, like you were standing on the edge of a cliff with no way to step back.

"Got it," you said finally, your voice small and strained. You turned on your heel before he could see the tears pooling in your eyes.

Bakugo didn’t move. He stayed on the couch, staring at the TV that he wasn’t really watching. His nails dug into his palms, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

"Idiot," he muttered under his breath, though he wasn’t sure if he was talking about you—or himself.

Hours passed, but Bakugo didn’t leave the couch. He replayed the scene over and over in his mind: the look on your face, the way your voice had cracked when he tore you down.

He hated himself for it. Hated the way he’d lashed out, even though he knew it was because he was terrified. Of what? He didn’t know. Maybe of admitting to himself that he cared. Maybe of the fact that you could make him feel so out of control with just one stupid question.

But now it was too late. He’d pushed you away.

You, on the other hand, locked yourself in your room, curled up on your bed, and let the tears flow. You couldn’t believe you’d been so stupid, so naive. Of course Bakugo didn’t like you. Of course he didn’t care. You’d just been projecting your feelings onto him, imagining things that weren’t really there.

Still, the hurt lingered. You tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter, that you’d move on, but the ache in your chest said otherwise.

Little did you know, Bakugo was sitting downstairs, fists clenched, consumed by his own turmoil. Because for all his bluster, he’d never wanted to hurt you. He just didn’t know how to deal with the truth: that he did like you, more than he was willing to admit.

Bakugo tried to convince himself that what he’d said to you was necessary. He had goals—real, tangible goals—and nothing, no one, was going to distract him. Becoming the Number One Hero wasn’t just a dream for him; it was a mission, an obligation, a destiny he was determined to carve out with his own blood, sweat, and tears. He didn’t need complications. He didn’t need feelings. He didn’t need you. That’s what he told himself over and over as he sat alone in his dorm room, glaring at the wall like it had personally offended him. His fists were clenched tightly in his lap, the tendons in his hands straining from the pressure.

But no matter how hard he tried to justify it, he couldn’t shake the image of your face from his mind. The way your expression had crumbled when he snapped at you, the hurt in your eyes as you turned and walked away—it all replayed in his head on an endless, agonizing loop. He could still hear your voice trembling when you’d asked him out, soft and vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to hearing from you. You weren’t the kind of person who let your guard down easily, and he’d taken that rare moment of courage and crushed it underfoot.

“Tch,” he growled under his breath, running a hand through his hair and gripping the strands in frustration. “Stupid.”

He thought that pushing you away would make things easier, but it didn’t. If anything, it made everything worse. You were everywhere. Every time he walked into a room, his eyes automatically searched for you, even when he told himself they wouldn’t. When you laughed with your friends, the sound sent an irritating warmth through his chest, only to be followed by a sharp pang of regret when he remembered the look on your face that night. During training, he found himself tracking your every move without even meaning to, his instincts on high alert every time you dodged an attack or threw a punch. He hated it. Hated how you’d wormed your way into his head and refused to leave. Hated how much he wanted to be near you, even after he’d made it clear that he didn’t want anything to do with you.

It didn’t help that everyone else seemed to notice his turmoil. His friends had started giving him strange looks during meals, their eyes darting between him and you as if they were waiting for something to happen. Kirishima, in particular, had been annoyingly persistent, watching him with that infuriatingly knowing expression he always wore when he thought Bakugo was being an idiot. Bakugo did his best to ignore it, but the tension was impossible to escape.

One evening, when the others were hanging out in the common area, Kirishima finally confronted him. Bakugo had been sitting on the couch, staring at his phone without really looking at it, when Kirishima plopped down beside him with a heavy sigh. Mina and Kaminari weren’t far behind, hovering nearby like vultures waiting for a meal.

“Alright, spill it,” Kirishima said, his voice casual but firm. Bakugo barely spared him a glance.

“Spill what?” he snapped, his tone as sharp as ever.

“Don’t play dumb,” Mina chimed in, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him. “You’ve been acting weird for days, and we all know why.”

“I’m not in the mood for this crap,” Bakugo growled, standing up to leave, but Kirishima quickly stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Bakugo glared at him, his crimson eyes blazing. “Move.”

“Not until you admit what’s going on,” Kirishima said, his voice steady despite the obvious tension in the air. “You pushed her away, didn’t you?”

Bakugo froze, his scowl deepening. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Kirishima said, his tone unusually serious. “Come on, man. It’s so obvious you like her. Everyone can see it.”

“I don’t—”

“Save it,” Mina interrupted, stepping closer with a look that could cut through steel. “We’ve seen the way you look at her. And don’t even get me started on the way you lose your mind whenever she partners up with someone else during training. You care about her, and instead of doing something about it, you’re being a total dumbass.”

Bakugo’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “I don’t have time for this crap,” he muttered, shoving past Kirishima and heading for the door. But before he could leave, Kirishima’s voice rang out behind him, stopping him in his tracks.

“You think pushing her away will make you stronger,” Kirishima said, his voice softer now, almost sad. “But all you’re doing is proving how scared you are.”

Bakugo’s shoulders tensed, his hand gripping the doorknob so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“You’re scared because you like her so much it freaks you out,” Kirishima continued, his tone unwavering. “But running from it won’t make it go away.”

For a moment, Bakugo didn’t move. The room was silent, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Finally, he yanked the door open and walked out, slamming it shut behind him without another word.

That night, Bakugo lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling with an intensity that could have set it on fire. Kirishima’s words echoed in his head, mingling with the memory of your voice and the image of your face. He hated how much it all got to him, how much he couldn’t stop thinking about you no matter how hard he tried. He hated the way his chest ached every time he thought about the hurt in your eyes and the way you’d walked away from him, your shoulders slumped in defeat. But most of all, he hated how much he wanted to see you again, to fix things, to say something—anything—that could make up for what he’d done.

Meanwhile, you were doing your best to move on. You’d been avoiding Bakugo as much as possible, throwing yourself into training and schoolwork to keep your mind occupied. It wasn’t easy, though. Every time you saw him, whether it was in class or during meals, you felt a sharp pang of hurt that refused to go away. You hated how much he still affected you, even after he’d made it painfully clear that he didn’t feel the same way.

But no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t matter, that you’d be fine without him, the ache in your chest lingered. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong to hope, if you’d been foolish to believe that he might have cared about you even a little.

Little did you know, Bakugo was sitting in his room, wrestling with his own feelings and cursing himself for the way he’d handled things. Because for all his bravado and pride, the truth was unavoidable: he couldn’t stop thinking about you. And the more he tried to push you out of his mind, the more you consumed his every thought.

The days following your rejection from Bakugo had been a haze of hurt and confusion. You tried to keep yourself busy—extra training, study sessions, anything to keep your mind from replaying the harsh way he’d dismissed you. But no matter how much you told yourself to let it go, it lingered. You still felt the sting of his words, the way he’d looked at you like you were an obstacle instead of someone he cared about. That wound didn’t heal easily.

You avoided him as much as you could. You’d shift to a different group during training, sit at the far end of the cafeteria during meals, and leave the common area whenever he showed up. It wasn’t as subtle as you hoped; your friends noticed, and you were pretty sure Bakugo did too. Still, you couldn’t face him—not after everything he’d said.

What you didn’t know was that your absence weighed on him far more than he let on.

Bakugo was not a man who easily admitted to mistakes. Pride had been ingrained in him from an early age, and he carried it like armor. But lately, that armor felt suffocating, like it was pressing in on him from all sides. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop replaying the hurt in your eyes when he’d lashed out. Every time he saw you purposely turning away from him or laughing with someone else, he felt a sharp pang of regret that he didn’t know how to fix.

Kirishima’s words lingered too. “You’re scared because you like her so much it freaks you out. But running from it won’t make it go away.” As much as Bakugo wanted to punch him for saying it, he knew it was true. He’d been running from his feelings because they terrified him. You terrified him—not because you were weak, but because of how much power you had over him without even realizing it. And that was what scared him most of all.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. Watching you avoid him, knowing he’d been the one to hurt you—it was eating him alive. If he didn’t do something soon, he was going to explode.

That’s what led him here, standing awkwardly a few feet away from where you sat on the bench outside. You hadn’t noticed him yet, too focused on the notebook in your lap. For a moment, he hesitated, his chest tightening with something unfamiliar. Was this… nerves? He growled under his breath, frustrated with himself. He was Bakugo Katsuki, for crying out loud. He didn’t get nervous.

“Oi.” His voice came out rougher than he intended, and you jumped slightly, startled by his sudden presence.

You looked up, your eyes widening for a split second before your expression hardened. “What do you want?”

Bakugo flinched at the coldness in your tone, though he tried to hide it. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” you asked, already sounding exasperated. “If this is about training or some stupid lecture—”

“It’s not about training,” he cut in, stepping closer. His jaw tightened as he tried to find the right words. He wasn’t good at this, but he had to try. “It’s about what I said to you before.”

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into your expression. “Why are you bringing that up now? You already made your feelings perfectly clear, Bakugo. I don’t need to hear it again.”

He winced at the way you said his name—so formal, so distant. You used to call him Katsuki, back when things were simpler. Back when he hadn’t ruined everything.

“Just shut up and listen for a second, will you?” he snapped, though there was no real heat in his voice. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “I… I screwed up, alright? I said some shit I didn’t mean, and I hurt you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Your expression softened slightly, but your arms remained crossed, a barrier he knew he’d have to break through. “Then why did you do it? Why push me away if you didn’t mean it?”

“Because I’m a goddamn idiot,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. His gaze dropped to the ground, his fists clenched at his sides. “I thought… I thought if I let myself like you, I’d lose focus. That you’d get in the way of my goals.”

“And now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Now I know that’s total bullshit,” he said, finally looking up to meet your eyes. “You don’t make me weaker. You make me want to be better. And no matter how much I tried to ignore it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You’re in my head all the damn time, and it’s driving me insane.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession, but you still hesitated. “You really hurt me, Katsuki,” you said softly, the pain evident in your voice. “I don’t know if I can just forget that.”

He stepped closer, his gaze intense and unwavering. “I’m not asking you to forget it. I’m asking for a chance to fix it. I was a dumbass, and I don’t deserve it, but… I want to try. With you.”

The vulnerability in his voice was so raw, so uncharacteristic, that it left you speechless. You searched his face for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was regret and determination.

“Katsuki…” you began, your voice trembling slightly.

“Look, I know I’m not good at this,” he interrupted, his hands twitching at his sides as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “I’m not some smooth-talking idiot like Kaminari, and I’m probably gonna screw up a hundred more times. But I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’m not gonna hurt you again.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as his words sank in. This was Bakugo Katsuki—the same boy who never admitted when he was wrong, who bulldozed his way through life without looking back. And here he was, laying his pride at your feet, just for a chance to make things right.

“You’re really bad at this, you know,” you said finally, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

He huffed, his cheeks turning pink. “Yeah, well, it’s not exactly my strong suit.”

You laughed softly, the sound making his chest tighten in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. For the first time in weeks, you felt the tension between you start to dissolve.

“So, what now?” you asked, taking a tentative step closer.

“Now I do this,” he said, his voice low as he reached out to cup your face in his hands. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he leaned in. His crimson eyes searched yours for a moment, and when you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance and kissed you.

The kiss was tentative at first, almost shy, but it quickly deepened as you responded, your hands reaching up to grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer. He kissed you like he was trying to make up for every moment he’d wasted, pouring all the unspoken feelings he couldn’t put into words into that one act.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads resting together, you were both breathless. He smirked, his usual cocky confidence creeping back in. “Told you I’d make it up to you.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “You’ve got a long way to go, Katsuki.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but the warmth in his gaze betrayed the gruffness of his tone. “Guess I’ll just have to stick around and prove it.”

And for the first time in weeks, everything felt right.

Feel free to request <3

[ll7esxs]

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

The first "I love you" in the relationship [requested]

characters: Logan walker, Hesh walker, Keegan russ, kick

notes: SFW content, kinda chessy for me since i love angst more than this shit but whatever man whatever this fandom wants

Logan walker:

yeah you are the first who is going to say it don't argue with me.

Logan struggles with words and would never rush into saying it.

tbh i think logan has never had partners in his life :(, he kept training not knowing anything about love.

sometimes i think hesh is the one who couraged him to date and elias too, telling him that he has been more than 30 years serving for this country and even though.

elias controlled and balanced the love and working with his mother.

It happens A late-night moment at home, when he’s quiet but seems lost in thought.

I think when you have been dating for months? like more than 8 months.

You’re curled up against Logan, watching, but he’s barely paying attention. His mind is elsewhere—probably thinking about a mission he can’t talk about.

You run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp gently. He sighs closing his eyes, leaning into your touch and getting out of the blurred world he was in.

"I love you, you know that?" you said lifting your head up to look at him.

Logan freezes,oh boy even his body tensing slightly against you, you can feel that already.

Logan’s eyes widen slightly, like he wasn’t expecting it—even though he’s felt it for a while.

He takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words but failing.

Instead of answering right away, he gently pulls you into his arms, holding you tighter than usual. After a short pause, he finally murmurs, “…I love you too.” which made you smile into his arm, you were proud of that to let this sweet boy speak of his feeling.

Later, he shows it rather than says it—staying close, kissing you, covering you in blanket when he thinks you're asleep, and making sure you’re always safe.

because words aren’t enough, but he hopes you can feel it.

Hesh walker:

he will say it first, But he blurts it out impulsively.

hesh is the one with partners but i see he had 3 or 2? and they weren't that serious they didn't reach that level with him.

but since he is a grown ass man (28) he found you

going out with him for classic dates.

It happenes in a playful moments while teasing each other.

in the kitchen, you kept arguing playfully talking back to him gahly! he thinks to himself how did i get with a woman like this.

"god you're impossible...I love you" he said with a soft shrug hands on his hips looking down smiling.

he said it without thinking, The moment he realizes what he just said, he freezes, eyebrows raising slightly like "Well… guess that’s out now."

and you had butterflies and bugs in your stomach like hello? did this handsome just tell me that??

"oh my god david?!" you said with a happy chuckle, heart already out of your chest "you just said this!!".

you wanted to step closer to him, He watches your reaction closely, trying to act all cool and confident but is secretly panicking inside.

you shaking your head while holding his face, which lead him to hold both your arms. "I love you too!"

his grin turns soft, and he pulls you in for a tight hug, whispering, "Good. ‘Cause I’m not going anywhere."

totally forgetting about the baking yall been making out. (wtf did i just type)

Keegan russ:

bro why is it so hard to write keegan, like this man is a hella mystery.

you are the one who said it sorry, cuz Keegan is way too guarded to say it first.

why i think he thought about his job first before you like he hates it if you are involved with someone like him, what if something danger happened to you because of him?he is way too cautious.

but because of those damn eyes of yours the weakest thing he will do is keeping you with him.

how did it happenes? late night walking, this man adores these times secretly especially after he has been with ya.

i think he ended up with a talk active partner? but no that much, he is just a listener and a talker sometimes.

you like it when he talks, his creative words and the sarcasm he is using making you say unbelievable about him.

He had insisted on walking you home—not out of obligation, but because it was simply in his nature.

When you reached your doorstep, you turned, your fingers curling around the doorknob. The soft glow of the porch light cast sharp shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw, the glint of something unreadable in his eyes. (lord have mercy i got too much in details)

“Well, kid," his deep voice rumbled through the quiet, rough yet familiar, "guess I’ll see you around.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips, warmth flickering in your chest at the easy finality in his tone. He turned, hands tucked into his pockets, ready to disappear into the night like he always did. (bro is batman but he never tell you that)

“Keegan?” The name left your lips before you could think twice, barely above a whisper, but it was enough to make him stop.

His shoulders stiffened for the briefest moment before he turned back to you, his lightened gaze steady.

You didn’t wait any longer—you just walked up to him, arms wrapping around his neck. His eyes met yours, and God, it was so hard to be honest while looking into them. It seemed just as hard for him.

He was stunned, motionless, but his gaze remained stoic, unreadable.

“I love you,” you murmured, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He took a moment, then let out a stiff chuckle. “Must be the champain messing with your little head.”

“Shut up. I said it… I love you.” The second time, your voice was firmer. That’s when his eyes softened, a rare smile tugging at his lips—your first time seeing him like this. Gentle.

For a long time, he doesn’t speak. The silence stretches, heavy—almost unbearable.

Then, finally, he whispers—so quiet you almost miss it.

His fingers close over yours, grip tightening as if grounding himself in the moment.

He exhales, then presses a lingering kiss to your knuckles, the warmth of it seeping into your skin.

“…I love you too.”

Then he went to the shadows of the streets and after that time, you never see him again...

im joking bye.

Kick:

Kick is always aware—sharp, cautious, both in his military work and personal life. Nothing slips past him.

He never talks about his partner. He’s a ghost, a skillful one. Never caught, never seen unless he wants to be. Have you seen the kill list? He’s needed, and yet the feds can’t find him.

He doesn’t have trust issues, not exactly—but he’s careful. Always watching, always a step ahead. Especially when it comes to his relationships.

He even hesitated to date you, afraid you’d get hurt because of his work—afraid that if anything happened, he’d never forgive himself. Not even in death.

But he went for it anyway. Because he knew how to protect you. He kept you far from enemies, tracked every possible threat—all without you even knowing. He was secretive like that.

Man fuck the enemies he thought, he is in his 30s and we live one time why don't just have a partner in ur life?.

Not even the gang knew he had a partner. Only Merrick, who one day casually let it slip in front of him—like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

So he said it it just slips out casually not knowing the effect he will do on ya.

He said it during a random completely unromantic moment.

He doesn’t even realize what he said until your eyes widen. "Oh, damn. Did I just say that?"

You shrugged, still shocked. “Uhm… yeah, you did!” You shook your head, trying to process it.

He tried to play it off, acting like it was no big deal. “Well, yeah, of course I love you. Have you seen yourself?”

You couldn’t find the words. Your eyes softened as you looked at him, still stunned, heart pounding in your chest.

But when he saw you getting emotional, the act dropped. He smiled—small, genuine—and muttered, “Alright… yeah. I love you. For real.”

And later, he proved it. Small, silent acts of devotion—fixing things for you without being asked, making sure your coffee was just right, staying up just to watch you sleep peacefully.

[renurdoc]

I’m back yei

(BUGS)

I would love to see more aus about tf2 insects!!

sorry for disappearing!!!

I don't think my obsession with TF2 will disappear completely😕

[swirlzberry]

TWOBITS SISTERRR WHEN SHES IN HIGH SCHOOL

[oncasette]

biting the lads men

sylus, zayne, rafayel, xavier, & caleb x gn!reader

how each of the love and deepspace men react to an s/o that bites them as a way of showing their love.

content: affectionate biting (non-sexual)

sylus loves when you bite him. the first time you did it, he hadn't even batted an eye. simply smiled and moved his bicep closer for you to chomp down to your heart's content.

you tend to use your teeth when you're forced to sit quietly beside him, likely when he's doing something related to onichynus or a business deal he needs to finish up before he gives you his undivided attention for the night. you'll sit either in his lap, curled up in his shoulder, or just next to him under his arm. he doesn't mind if you ramble, but you know better than to expect him to answer all of your hypotheticals while he's focusing.

instead, when you've had your fill of talking to mostly yourself, you'll lower your head against his shoulder and bite down. you don't latch on very hard, but it's enough for sylus to know you're using your teeth.

"am i boring you, kitten?" he asks, setting his pen down in favor of cradling the back of your head. you dislodge yourself at the sensation, allowing him to pull your face up to look at him. he's got that knowing smirk on his face, his other hand tightly wrapped around your hips to keep you from falling as he shifts you to straddle his thighs.

“no,” you hum, tilting your head to nip at his wrist. he laughs, the sound vibrating through your body.

“no? just being… frisky?” a hand slides up under the bottom hem of your shirt to rest on the small of your back. you nod, biting a bit harder when you reach the base of his palm. he hisses.

“are you almost done with your work, sy?” you whisper. you gently kiss the indents your teeth had left.

“i’m all yours, sweetie.”

zayne doesn't really comment on it. after the first few incidents, and the round of questions that had followed, he knows you don't mean any harm by it. rather, he knows it's a way for you to express yourself to him when words seem to elude you.

it always seems to happen when zayne’s already settled down for the evening. unlike when you’re trying to lure him away from his work—when you use lingering touches and gentle kisses to pull his attention toward you—zayne always seems to find you biting him when he’s already got his sights set on you.

the two of you will be spread out on the couch, you sat between his thighs with your back to his chest and his arms around your shoulders, when your teeth latch into his forearm. he doesn’t move, doesn’t shift, just smiles softly with a kiss to your temple as he continues to watch the move you’d put on.

“react,” you huff, biting a bit harder near the junction of his elbow.

“what would you like for me to say, darling?” he says, the ghost of a laugh seeping out of him. you shrug, snuggling back further into him with your lips pressed against his bicep.

“i’m bored,” you huff.

“i can tell,” he says softly. his hand slides down your arm to intertwine your fingers together, bringing the pair up to his mouth to kiss the back of your hand. “would you like to do something else?”

“no,” you say, shaking your head. your tongue peeks out to swipe across a recently bitten patch of skin. you always tended to bite him more when there was more skin at your disposal, he’d noticed, leading him to wear short sleeves around the house.

“alright, then,” he says. he settles back down into the cushions and tightens his hold on you. when you latch down on his arm again, all he says is, “i love you, too, darling.”

rafayel pretends to hate it. he'll get all whiny and pouty each time you do it, threatening to kick you out of his studio for abusing him, but he secretly revels in it. he gets this pretty pink flush on his cheeks whenever your teeth make contact with his skin, despite whatever nonsense spews from his lips.

“hey! meanie,” he huffs, yanking his arm out of reach from your mouth. he cradles it to his chest, running his thumb gently over the barely-there indent your teeth had made in his skin. it’s the most offended you’d seen him. almost.

you continue to do it, though, a lot gentler, until one day his protestations actually manage to break through to you.

he fully rolled away from you, turning so that his back was facing you. when you attempted to warm up to him again, placing your face into the crook of his neck and sliding your hands around his waist, he swatted at your fingers until you pulled away. you could hear him pouting, the dramatic sighs and whines.

after that, and after you’d made it up to him the following morning with plenty of kisses, you stopped biting him. rafayel had assumed it was only for the day, making only a comment or two about how he was “bite mark free” for the first time, but when you withheld your teeth from him for a week and a half, he started to get whiny again.

at first, it’d been silent gestures. holding his arm close to your face when you cuddled, making sure you were angled toward his shoulder when you watched something.

then, “why don’t you bite me anymore?”

“you don’t like it,” you say, turning your head slightly to look at him. he’s sitting on the couch beside you, a sketch pad laid open over his lap. it’d stayed blank for the last thirty minutes.

“i never said that,” he says.

“yes, you did,” you laugh. “you called me a meanie and didn’t talk to me for a day.”

“are you sure about that? i probably just called you cutie like i always do and then got… laryngitis or something,” he huffs, his bottom lip protruding out. he drops the sketch pad onto the coffee table before he scoots closer to you. “will you just bite me again, cutie?”

“you want me to?”

if he had any reservations before—which he didn’t— the way your face lit up at the idea was enough to erase them completely. he nods, holding his hand up to your lips, allowing you to nibble as you pleased.

xavier is confused by it, but lets you do as you please. his brows will knit together and he’ll stare at you with those big eyes he always gives you, but he never protests or gives you any indication that he wants you to stop.

the first time you did it, he thought it was an accident. he flinched slightly, but didn’t make a comment besides that. once it started becoming a regular thing, he began to have more and more questions about your motivations.

“starlight?” he asks softly, not moving save for the slightest tilt of his head. your teeth are still latched into his shoulder. you hum in reply, nipping your way across his shoulder and down to his arm. “did i do something?”

“no? why do you ask?”

“you’re biting me,” he replies.

“yeah? i always do that,” you hum, mixing in a couple kisses with your bites before you pull back. you shift so that you’re facing him more. “do you want me to stop?”

he grabs your wrist when you start to pull further away. “no. you can keep doing it.”

“yeah?” you ask, immediately leaning in to bite down on his cheek. his face scrunches, a soft pink hue dusting over the skin beneath your lips.

he's not entirely sure of why you bite, but you never bite down enough to hurt him, and you always seem so happy after you've done it, so who is he to prevent you from latching down every once in a while?

caleb bites you back. he takes it as a challenge. you always bit him when you were kids when you were angry, or, god forbid, he was holding you down for any reason. if he was tickling you, or tackling you, your first instinct was to sink your teeth into the closest body part you could find. he went to school one day with a huge mark on his ankle once, and you never heard the end of it.

now, when you do it, he's prepared. it's almost as if he goads you into it, knowing he'll be able to do it back.

he'll wander around your apartment with a sleeveless shirt on, practically lording his arms in your face, and you have no choice but to chomp down on his bicep.

the moment you sneak behind him, your arms linking around his hips, he's on guard. he knows all your tactics. despite the otherwise gentle touches, he knows the minute your lips wander anywhere close to his arms, he's going to be feeling more than your lips.

he says your name in warning moments before it occurs. within a second of you latching down, he's spinning you in his grasp and attacking your skin with nips and bites of his own. he starts at your neck before traveling down to your shoulder and biting down with the same intensity you'd used on him.

"caleb!" you squeal, pushing his face away despite the stream of giggles leaving your lips.

"what?" he asks, softening his movments. "i'm just giving you a taste of your own medicine."

"only i'm allowed to bite," you counter.

"is that so?" he asks, lifting his head up to look you in the eye again. you nod as he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. within a second, though, he's sliding back down to bite down at your shoulder. "i don't think so, pipsqueak."

[sttoru]

‘no matter how much time the king of curses spends with you, he doesn’t think he will ever understand you or your affectionate behaviour towards him.’

☀︎｜tags. true form sukuna x female reader. heian era sukuna. fluff. bits of mentions of blood & murder. big size difference. cold-big-monster-having-a-small-soft-spot-for-a-single-human trope. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’. not proof read! let me know if you like my characterisation or not; it’s my first sukuna fic.

a kiss on the cheek is one of the most innocent - yet apparently also the most difficult - things to do. it’s a small form of intimacy; not that hard to do. it’s really as simple as planting your lips on your beloved’s cheek. then all you do is retreat — maybe get a kiss on the cheek back from him. or on the lips.

“get moving. i’m not waiting all day for you.” sukuna grumbles. you had suddenly stopped in your tracks and the king of curses was confused as to what the reason might have been. the two of you had been walking through the courtyard for a few minutes now — well, you basically had to drag him out to take a little stroll together.

and now the same you was quiet. it bothered sukuna; you were always so chatty around him when it was just the two of you. he might have called you an ‘annoying brat’ for it, but he secretly enjoyed your company and voice.

“c-coming.” you reply in a quiet mumble, eyes glancing over at the monstrous frame that stood a few steps away. his dull yet sharp gaze was focused on you — like he was sizing you up. or rather: trying to figure out what’s wrong with the change in behaviour you showed.

sukuna watches you as you hurry over to his side again. he resumes walking, hands folded over each other under the material of his kimono.

though, he couldn’t yet let go of the fact that you were acting different around him. the king of curses’ suspicion only grew once he noticed how your fingers fiddled with your obi. you were anxious about something.

sukuna shakes his head slightly. some humans sure are difficult to understand, he thinks to himself. your happy yet reserved personality when you usually interacted with him had disappeared and made place for a nervous wreck. trying to figure out why made sukuna’s head hurt.

were you finally scared of him? like all other humans and curses were?

he doesn’t know why, but it felt like he would hate for such thing to happen. sukuna usually wouldn’t care if someone resents, fears or somehow even admires him. only you could make him think and care about such difficult and maybe even trivial things.

“uhm,” you break off his train of thoughts and his eyes are instantly on yours again, “may i do something really quickly?”

sukuna’s face doesn’t show any change in expression, but a small nod tells you everything you need to know. you clear your throat, “can you please lower your head towards me?”

lowering his head? oh, you got some guts. if anyone else had said that to him, sukuna would have obliterated them; there wouldn’t have been anything but red bloody dust left of their body.

but then again: it’s you. all exceptions the king of curses makes are for you.

sukuna slightly lowers his head to your level so you could do whatever you needed to. he’d be lying if he said that his curiosity wasn’t piqued. it always was when he was around you.

you gulp. it was time to do what you’ve longed to do ever since the beginning of your stroll: give the ryomen sukuna a kiss on the cheek. you don’t think he’d be mad—at least he never seriously gets mad at you. only to get a reaction out of you since your responses are always ‘intensely amusing’—as he says.

“go on.” sukuna’s breath hits your cheeks. he was so close—too close that it made you even more nervous in a way. as if you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.

you swallow your fears and just go for it. your lips attach to his cheek in the fraction of a second—the speed of light—before they leave. it was right under his right set of eyes.

you take a step back and clear your throat. you try to escape the embarrassment of sukuna’s possible reaction by continuing your stroll, though were stopped by a strong hand firmly grabbing your forearm.

“where’d you think you’re going?”

sukuna’s deep voice echoes through your ears. you were surprised to hear the tone of it; almost soft. a tone sukuna uses on rare occasions: in your presence.

you turn your head around and smile sheepishly at the king of curses before you. he doesn’t return the same (not that you expected him to), however he does unexpectedly ruffle your hair for a split second. or at least he attempts to.

his large and warm palm lands on top of your head and he gives it a little and subtle shake. sukuna had seen you do a similar action to someone else before, thus he concluded that he could do it to you. maybe as a form of endearment or. . whatever you used it as.

he did find the way you tried to scurry away after giving him a kiss very adorable. even if he wouldn’t say so out loud.

“now, come along. we don’t have all day.” sukuna nonchalantly mutters after retracting his hand. it left as fast as it came, though you were still stunned at the slight show of affection the king of curses returned.

you instantly catch up to sukuna again—walking next to him as fast as your legs could take you. you were a bit more at ease after you got a positive reaction to your little kiss. it was a pity that he didn’t smirk or laugh at you—maybe mocked you like he usually would. but that head pat made up for it.

even if it did leave your hair a little disheveled.

you couldn’t properly see sukuna’s face, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips was undeniably there. even if it was for just a split second.

“how very interesting.” sukuna mutters under his breath so you wouldn’t catch on. he sighs and shakes his head, unable to keep out that memory of you looking so cute—standing on the tip of your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek with your comically small hand on his jaw line. he doesn’t know why he found that to be so thrilling.

you flutter your eyelashes. you were curious about what he might have commented on, “may i ask what you had just said? i didn’t quite hear it.”

a short second of silence hangs before sukuna tilts his head to the right to look down at you again; his face expressionless, but still having a hint of a grin on his lips.

“i said you better hurry before i gobble you up right this instant.” he replies, (playfully) intimidating you with his sharp red eyes that glinted with a form of danger.

you shiver (though knew the threat was an empty one) and instantly pick up your pace. you even get ahead of him, walking as fast as your legs could. you answer with a curt ‘my apologies’ and walk like you actually have somewhere to be.

sukuna’s grin only grows as he sees you get ahead of him. if you had turned around, maybe you could have caught onto that light flicker of affection in his expression.

“i’m coming for you, little one.” sukuna adds just to ignite some more fear into you and you react as expected, “you’re not escaping me today.”

it was a funny sight; your reactions always make him enjoy his time with you even more than he already (secretly) was.

the way his body reacts in mysterious ways when you’re around, is still very much an unsolved riddle to the king of curses. and the reasons as to why you aren’t scared of him and can easily give him all your ‘love’ are also still yet to be discovered.

until then, sukuna will continue to enjoy teasing you.

[hyunsuloves]

Hii!! Would you be willing to write some nam-gyu/player 124 x reader hcs? I just love roh jaewon sm <3

boyfriend nam-gyu in the games.

warnings … this is kinda buns… that’s it

lovely notes … i lowkey hate how his character acts but i love roh jae-won too ᥫ᭡!!

꩜ [ 630 words ]

boyfriend nam-gyu who didn’t tell you he was entering the games. he intended to disappear for a week, and then show up with some bullshit excuse and a large sum of money.

boyfriend nam-gyu who was pissed off beyond belief when he came to find out that you were in the games because of his debt. the salesman recruited you to ease your boyfriend's debt and unfortunately, you couldn’t resist.

boyfriend nam-gyu who wouldn’t allow you to leave his side. it irks thanos a little bit, but he doesn’t really say anything because you and nam-gyu are together.

boyfriend nam-gyu gyu who only votes to leave because of your presence. no amount of money could aid him if you were to die here, and all because of him.

boyfriend nam-gyu who gets into countless arguments over you. he’ll argue over the dumbest shit, like someone bumping into you and not apologizing. he feels the constant need to defend you but he tends to take it a bit far.

boyfriend nam-gyu who constantly has a hand on you. it may be on your waist, his fingers interlocked with yours, or his hands in your hair.

boyfriend nam-gyu who insists on a “good luck kiss” before each game. you both are well aware that he just wants an excuse to kiss you, but who’s going to complain about it?

boyfriend nam-gyu who would lose his mind if thanos were to say something about you. if something he said was the slightest bit of suggestive, he might actually fight him about it.

boyfriend nam-gyu who loathes seeing any other player talking to you. even if it’s simplistic small talk to pass the time, he feels a surge of jealousy seeing other people interact so casually with you.

boyfriend nam-gyu who has you alongside him during every game. you don’t really have a choice because he has a vice grip on your hand. you couldn’t go anywhere even if you wanted to.

boyfriend nam-gyu who encourages you to stay away from thanos. he knows he’s a terrible person and despite hanging out with him, he doesn’t want you anywhere near a person as heinous as him. he definitely doesn’t want you taking whatever drugs thanos has on him.

boyfriend nam-gyu who always offers you a portion of his food. he’s a little greedy and secretly wants to keep it all to himself, but he puts your well-being before him, so he always offers you a piece.

boyfriend nam-gyu who sleeps in the bed directly next to yours. the beds are so tiny and can barely fit two people, so he finds peace in sleeping in the bed adjacent to yours.

boyfriend nam-gyu who only allows himself to be vulnerable with you during lights out. he doesn’t want any other players to view your affection as a weakness and use it against either one of you. so, the only time you see the true doting state of your boyfriend is when no one else can see.

boyfriend nam-gyu who wants nothing more than to be affectionate around you, but he knows he can’t for the sake of both of your safety. if he wants the two of you to make it out alive, he’s well aware that he has to put on an uncaring facade in the face of everyone else.

boyfriend nam-gyu who would kill someone for you. it’s a terrifying concept, yet not an unusual one amid the deaths all around. it’s slightly unnerving how quick he’d end other players life in your defense.

boyfriend nam-gyu who has plans to take you out somewhere after you get out of here. he’s the reason you’re here in the first place, and the least he can do is try to make it up to you.

[venusflytrapm]

It's cold and Aizawa hasn’t offered you his coat. 

You two have been seeing each other for the past three months, you’ve known him longer. There’s little dates when you both have the time, at his place but it’s usually yours. He spends the night, you order take out when you both can’t bare to cook, and you spend your nights reading while he dozes next to you. 

Its quite domestic for such a new relationship.

And it’s not like you wouldn’t call him chivalrous, he’s as chivalrous as you like in a guy, a good in-between. But you wish he would look at you and notice that you’re shivering. 

Now your footsteps are getting heavier with each passing moment, the aggravation becoming more and more apparent on your features as the chill in the air gets colder and colder. You think you might kill him, and you secretly hope he looks your way–

“Are you okay?” Shouta asks, circling his arm around your waist. He pulls you against him and the warmth is good for the moment. 

You’re still mad, or at least you want to stay mad. “Just say you hate me.”

He’s grinning now, its subtle but it’s still a grin. And you’re tempted to push him away and continue sulking in your annoyance. 

“You’ve been shivering for the past 10 minutes, you don't want my jacket?” He’s teasing you, his hand squeezing the flesh above your hip, through your clothes. You can sort of smell his cologne but it’s too faint compared to the smell of earthiness and crisp air. 

You look at him, really look at him, and you can’t help the smile growing on your face. It makes your cheeks hurt in the cold air. 

“I thought you were gonna be a gentleman and keep me warm,” You reply, more sugary than you’d like to come off. 

He’s looking at you with that lazy look in his eyes, the same one he gives you before he’s about to tell you some boring joke in bed. 

He chuckles dryly and pulls away from you, taking his coat off and draping it over your shoulders. And you can’t help but think he looks cute in his fitted henley shirt. 

“Is that warm enough?” He presses a chaste kiss into your temple before wrapping an arm around your waist for a second time. 

You mumble a quick “yeah” and lean into him.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Cat boy lads things

Rafayel is the type of car boy who’d occupy your lap more often than not and will become pouty when your attention isn’t fully on him, so much so to the point where he’ll act like you’ve been neglecting him. (This is a false statement)

He’s the king of the side eye. He’s judging you but he’s not silent about it either and he will move to the other side of the room, however he’ll think that you’ll come after him and get pouty when you don’t.

He’s sending all kinds of signals and all of them contradict the other and yet he still expects you to know what he was conveying…for someone who hates cats he shares a lot more in common with them then he’d like to admit.

Zayne is the type of cat boy who is secretly obsessed with you and would do just about anything you’d ask of him.

He’s more than willing to wait on hand and foot for you, all the while reminding you of his loyalty and fondness for you when in close proximity of you. It’s extremely intimate with how close your faces were from each other, feeling his breath fan across your face.

He’s the calmest out of all of the cat boys and the most well behaved as he can be found next to you, casually grooming his tail and ears while chaos ensues throughout the room. He’s kinda low maintenance but you give him attention and affection regardless just to see him smile and purr against your lips.

Xavier the little freak is the kind of cat boy who will be calm with the hand dealt with him but thrives off of you touching his ears and tail, regardless of how sensitive both of them were, he just likes the feel of your hands touching him while he becomes a little warm under the collar.

However he’s also the type to be found fast asleep in some weird places and in weird situations. He sleeps like he’s dead and it concerns you greatly as you spend the next ten minutes trying to wake him up, internally freaking out, only for him to wake up completely unbothered.

He kneads your chest…a lot…that is all. The little freak. (Affectionate)

Sylus is a gentlemanly cat boy who always had a pension for mischief either the way it glimmered in his eyes as he presses a kiss to the back of your hand.

He uses his tail to grasp your wrist or even brush again your waist as he’s walking past, his ears pricking up at the sound of your little hitches of breath, and a knowing smile is stretched across his lips as he raises a brow at you.

You hated him for making you feel like this but you didn’t at the same time.

He will rub his scent on you if he smells another cat boy on you, not out of possessiveness or overprotectiveness, he just really doesn’t want you smelling like other cat boys. However this isn’t much of a problem when his scent away them away anyway from you anyway.

Bonus cat boys;

Kieran and Luke are the two shits who makes life infinitely harder.

They will think it’s funny to knock shit over, while your watching them do so no less, and or start biting and tugging at your clothes relentlessly until you threaten to spray water on them for being little shits.

Somehow they get their tails knotted together…how you don’t bother to ask as it’s already a headache with them saying that while they’re twins, they rather liked have their own independence separate form the other.

There the type lie their bodies across your body while you sleep, making you wonder what the fuck is that unnecessary weight coming from, only to open your eyes and see these two dummies smiling back at you with matching Cheshire grins. That or use their tails to tickle your nose as a prank or even rest their heads close to you so you could feel the twitching of their ears at every subtle sound.

They have to sleep on either side of you, those are the rules and you have to abide by them if you don’t want them being little shits.

[grapejuicenharry]

Angel

Harry and Y/N are best friends— except they have feelings for each other (4k words)

warnings : smut 18+, fluff, kissing, grinding, jealous h

read part 2 of angel here

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ . ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶. ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

Harry really liked—no, loved—Y/N, but he would never admit it to her. She was his best friend, and he couldn’t imagine a day without her. She was like sunshine in his life, someone he could always rely on.

“Harry, my feet hurt,” Y/N whined beside him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glassy from one too many drinks. They were walking back from a party thrown by one of Harry’s friends, Alex. It was his birthday, and even though Harry and Y/N hadn’t planned to attend, today had been their last exam of the semester. That called for celebratory drinks after all the hard work they’d put in. Sleepless, stressful nights spent preparing for exams, completing assignments, and submitting papers—it had all been overwhelming, and tonight felt like the ideal way to finally blow off some steam.

“Didn’t I warn you about those heels?” he asked, amusement lacing his voice as he raised an eyebrow. He knew those heels always gave her trouble and told her to wear something more comfortable, but Y/N, being Y/N, never listened.

“Yeah, but they make me look sexy, and I wanted to be tall enough to at least reach your neck,” she replied absentmindedly.

“Well, guess that means I’m carrying you the rest of the way,” Harry said, and before she could protest, he hoisted her up onto his shoulders.

“Harry, my dress is too short! I’m going to flash everyone,” Y/N laughed, though there was no real concern in her voice.

Harry chuckled, placing his hand carefully to keep her covered. Besides, the streets were almost empty at 2 a.m., and there was hardly anyone around to notice.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Y/N met Harry on the first day of college. She was nervous and eager to make friends. Hurrying to her seat, she noticed Harry sitting next to her. The first thing she saw was his mop of curly hair, and she thought he was incredibly cute. He looked so innocent and nerdy in his black-rimmed glasses. He was just too adorable.

He wore a white T-shirt that highlighted his bulging biceps, with tattoos peeking through. Suddenly, Y/N found herself wanting to see every tattoo that adorned his beautiful body. She was so curious and lost in her thoughts about him that she didn’t realize Harry was, in fact, looking at her.

Harry thought he was dreaming as he looked at Y/N. She seemed like an angel, a beautiful one at that. She wore a cute white hoodie adorned with pink bows, and her curly hair framed her lovely face perfectly. What captivated him the most were her eyes; they were alluring, radiant, and a luminous shade of dark brown. Next were her luscious pink lips, so full and plump that he suddenly wanted to kiss them and taste them. He wondered if they tasted like berries or cherries, secretly hoping they tasted like cherries, his favorite fruit.

“Do you have an extra pen?” Y/N asked in a hushed voice. “I forgot to bring my pouch,” she added with a little pout.

“Y-yeah, yeah,” Harry replied, fixing his glasses, clearing his throat, and answering in a hoarse voice. He couldn’t believe she was actually talking to him.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Later that day, they sat together at lunch, talking as if hours had passed. Y/N was so grateful to have found someone as kind as Harry, who listened to every word she said with such intent. They chatted about random topics, like their favorite TV shows and ice cream flavors. When Harry revealed that his favorite flavor was mint chocolate chip, Y/N made a weird face.

“Shut up—no, don’t you dare say it!” Harry exclaimed, amused.

“But it tastes like toothpaste!” Y/N whined playfully.

“No, it does not!” Harry shot back. Y/N made a mental note to convince Harry to try every other flavor until he grew to hate mint chocolate chip.

They soon became inseparable—best friends. Harry didn’t realize just how much he had started to like Y/N until it was almost too late. He thought frequently about confessing his true feelings, but there never seemed to be the right moment. He cherished the friendship they had, and the thought of losing her terrified him to his core. So he kept those feelings hidden, bottled up, and accepted her as his best friend.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Harry set Y/N down on the couch when they reached her apartment. He kneeled down to take off her heels. “Ouch, slowly please,” YN whined.

“I am never letting you wear these stupid shoes again. Your feet are all red and swollen,” Harry countered, looking genuinely concerned. He hated seeing Y/N in pain. He wanted to protect her from everything and keep her safe in his cocoon—just him and Y/N.

He then carefully carried a sleepy Y/N to her bedroom and started looking for a comfortable shirt for her to wear. After finding a suitable shirt, he went to the bathroom to grab her makeup wipes and returned to find half-asleep Y/N lying on the bed. “Sweetheart, this will only take two minutes, I promise.” He began wiping her face gently.

After getting Y/N all ready for bed, Harry changed his own clothes. Y/N had “borrowed” too many of his shirts, but honestly, he never minded it. In fact, he secretly liked when Y/N wore his clothes. She looked breathtaking in his oversized shirt paired with her tiny shorts, which made Harry lose his mind.

“Come to bed and cuddle me; I need to sleep,” Y/N grumbled, rubbing her tired eyes.

“Coming, sweetheart, just two minutes,” Harry replied with a smile. He knew how grumpy Y/N got when she was sleepy. He quickly climbed into bed, set his glasses on the side table, and pulled her to his side. Cuddled next to him, Harry didn’t mind being the big spoon. He loved having Y/N molded to his side—the sweet scent of her hair, which smelled like strawberries on a sunny day, and the soft skin that felt like vanilla sundae. He adored every inch of her. Whenever he was with her, he felt like he was on cloud nine. Everything around him was rainbows and sunshine; she made everything look like it was through rose-tinted glasses.

But Harry also loved being the little spoon. There were days when he just wanted to be held, and honestly, Y/N loved having him like that—clingy, needy, like a cute little puppy.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

One day, Harry arrived at Y/N’s apartment looking extremely worn out. Y/N was lying on the bed, comfortably engrossed in her favorite novel. She grew concerned upon seeing Harry. 

“I am so exhausted, and my head hurts,” Harry exclaimed, throwing his bag on the floor. “I had to sit in Professor Martin’s class for two hours, plus I had a psychology presentation today,” he stated tiredly while rubbing his drowsy eyes behind his frames. 

“Oh no, I’m so sorry you had such a long day, baby. Come on, lie down, and I’ll massage your head,” Y/N replied, removing the blanket from her lap. Harry immediately climbed onto the bed and dropped his head in Y/N’s lap. She carefully removed his glasses and placed them on the side table before starting to massage his head.

She threaded her fingers in his curls, scratching his head lightly, rubbing, and applying just the right amount of pressure. Harry let out a soft moan as he could already feel the tension melting away, his body instinctively relaxing further into her lap.

 “Feels amazing,” he murmured, his voice slightly muffled against her legs. 

As her skilled fingers glided over his scalp, working their magic and easing the stress that had built up after a long week. 

Y/N smiled, enjoying the way he melted under her touch. She varied her movements, alternating between gentle rubs and firmer pressure, focusing on the areas where he seemed to carry the most stress. Her fingers danced through his hair, and she leaned forward slightly to whisper, “You deserve this. Just relax.”

After what seemed like hours of massaging, Y/N realized Harry had fallen soundly asleep on her lap. His face looked peaceful, with his eyes closed and soft snores slipping through his pretty pouty lips. He looked so adorable, and Y/N couldn’t help but wish she could freeze time to savor this moment longer.

Knowing Harry would probably complain about his back in the morning, she gently shifted him, lifting his head from her lap and placing it on a pillow. His brows furrowed slightly, so she soothingly rubbed his forehead, trying to smooth away any lingering tension. Half asleep, Harry instinctively moved closer, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist and nuzzling his face against her boobs. His personal pillow: He always has the best sleep whenever she holds him. Y/N smiled down at him. His curls tickled her jaw, and she couldn't resist leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his head.

“Goodnight, sleepyhead,” Y/N whispered, smiling at Harry, who had already drifted back into a peaceful slumber.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Harry was never the jealous type—at least, not until Y/N came into his life. but right now he cant help but a bitter sensation rises up his throat when he sees yn with Jacob. A total douchebag who flirts with every girl in the college, Standing next to Y/N, too closely according to harry. Harry had come to find Y/N so they could grab tacos at their favorite spot, but instead, he’s witnessing this. Does Y/N like him? Does she have a crush on him that he doesn’t know about? What if Y/N is interested in him and wants to end her friendship with Harry? Will she forget about him? All these questions overwhelm Harry’s mind at the sight. No, no—Y/N was only his. His best friend, his angel, his sweetheart. She would never do something like this. His chest suddenly started burning at such thoughts. 

Jacob says something which makes Y/N burst into laughter. His chest tightens at the sight. He wants to be the only person to make yn laugh like that. He curses inwardly that jacob gets to experience the sweet melody of her laughter, her laugh that can instantly brighten up the room with warmth and sunshine. He thinks to himself, Does Jacob know her eyes crinkle whenever she laughs? or how the mole under her right eye disappears when she laughs because of the fullness of her cheeks? 

“Oi, whatchu looking at?” Y/N snapped her fingers in front of Harry’s face. He hadn’t realized she had come over and was talking to him. “You look like you could kill someone,” she teased, giggling as she spoke to him. 

“Was that Jacob talking to you?” Harry asked, trying to sound casual even though he was fuming inside. “Yeah, he wanted my chemistry notes because apparently he spilled coffee on his,” Y/N replied, wrapping her arm around Harry's as they walked together. 

“Did you give them to him?” Harry asked, mentally cursing Jacob and hoping she hadn’t. 

“No, obviously I know he just wanted an excuse to hit on me. I’m not dumb,” Y/N exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “Besides, you know I don’t like sharing my notes with anyone except for you, because you know how to take care of them.” She chided and planted a kiss on Harry’s cheek. His face instantly heated. 

“Good,” Harry whispered quietly, fixing his glasses, looking at the ground, too embarrassed to hide the blush of his cheek and unable to suppress a smile at the thought of Y/N rejecting that jerk. 

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Harry loves when Y/N gets touchy like this with him. When randomly she hugs him, kisses him on his cheek, forehead, or settles on his lap while watching a movie. Her spontaneous kisses leave a soft tingle on his skin, and he can’t help but smile every time she curls up in his lap. It’s in these moments he feels closest to her, as if every touch and every kiss is a silent confession of how much she means to him. His arm instinctively wraps around her waist, pulling her in a little tighter, enjoying the way she fits perfectly against him. The movie on the screen fades into the background; all he can focus on is the warmth of her body and the way she makes him feel—like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be. It all feels so natural. And they never have those awkward moments because they both love these touches. Whenever yn touches him, he feels electricity buzzing through him, in a good way. His skin feels like jello and his heart is thumping loudly, His brain is all muddled with goo and sparkles. 

He wants to treasure those moments forever and constantly wishes for more and more. 

It was one of those rare evenings for Harry and Y/N, Where the world seemed to quiet down just for them. They had just finished with their midterms and needed this for the longest time. Dim yellow lights, a bottle of red wine sitting on the table, a soft record player playing in the background. Legs tangled under the blanket as Harry and Y/N sat closer to each other, just enjoying each other’s presence. The warmth of Yn’s body pressed against him felt like home.

Harry’s fingers absentmindedly played with a strand of Y/N’s hair, twirling it between his fingertips. His eyes traced over her face, taking in every detail — the curve of her lips, the soft rise and fall of her chest.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Harry whispered, his voice low and soft, his breath tickling her ear.

Y/N turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze with a soft smile and cheeks already flushed because of wine, changed into a deeper shade of red at his words. “You always say that.” Slurred her words lightly. 

“Because it’s true,” he murmured, leaning in closer, their faces just inches apart. His fingers gently tugging at her bottom lip, eyes flickering to her mouth. “And I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of telling you that.” 

For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them thick with unspoken words and emotions. Y/N felt her heart race as Harry’s eyes locked onto hers, filled with something deeper than just affection.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Y/N tilted her head, her lips brushing against Harry’s in the softest kiss, testing the waters. It was brief- just a featherlight kiss- but enough to send a shockwave through him. Harry let out a quiet sigh, his hand moving to cup her face as he deepened the kiss, slow and tender. As he leaned in closer, Y/N gently pushed his glasses up onto his forehead, making it easier for them to get lost in each other. Suddenly, he realized what he had done.

Harry pulled back immediately, his eyes wide with surprise at his own action.

“Sorry,” he blurted out, his voice panicked. “I don’t know why I did that.”

Y/N blinked, her cheeks flushing, but there was no trace of anger or discomfort on her face. Instead, she smiled softly, a warmth blooming in her chest at his sudden vulnerability. “No, Harry… It’s okay.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure? I didn’t mean—”

“Harry,” Y/N interrupted gently, her voice barely a whisper as she moved closer, her hand resting on his cheek. “It’s okay, I want this, I promise.”

Harry couldn’t quite grasp what was happening—it all felt too surreal, like something straight out of his dreams. Yet, here it was, playing out in real time. In the blink of an eye, Y/N tossed the blanket aside and straddled his lap. Her hands slid up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt as she pressed closer to him, wanting to be as near as possible. Her fingers trailed up his chest, feeling the heat radiating through his shirt, before cradling his face. Without hesitation, she pulled him into a deep kiss.

Harry was still trying to make sense of it all, but instinctively, his hands found their place—one tangling in her hair, the other resting gently on her neck.

The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with all the emotions that had been simmering under the surface for so long. His lips were soft, and she could taste the faint hint of wine on them. Their lips molded perfectly, like it was meant to be. Time seemed to blur. It must have been five minutes, or five hours; neither of them knew. It was a heated blend of tongue, teeth, and lips. 

Y/N’s hand reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it. Harry pulled back, catching his breath, resting his forehead against hers. His heart pounded, blood rushing south; he was so hard, making him ache beneath her. 

“Can I take off your top, baby?” He whispered, his breath warm against her jaw as he kissed and nipped at it.

“Yes, yes, please,” she murmured, and that was all the permission Harry needed. He swiftly pulled off her shirt—his shirt—and eagerly ran his hands over her smooth, soft skin. 

“So soft, your skin is so soft,” he murmured, his hands working behind her, unclasping her bra. 

Her tits were a piece of art—Round, so full and perfectly perky. His large hands cup them, gently rolling the nipple between his fingers. 

Now she sat only straddling him in her thin, barely there sleeping shorts; she could feel his hard cock beneath her, thick and throbbing, nudging her entrance. Her dampness was seeping through both of their shorts. A delicious remainder, how much she wanted him. He could feel her cunt fluttering around nothing, desperate for him. 

 Harry had to shut his eyes and  take  a few steady breaths as his chest rose and fell with anticipation. Slowly, he leaned forward, prepping light kisses along the curve of her breast. Y/N moaned softly, arching her back, giving him more access to her boobs. He latched onto her nipple, sucking lightly, while his free hand teased her other breast, tugging and rolling the sensitive nub. Y/N hips began to move instinctively, grinding against him, writhing on his cock couldn’t help but start grinding, writhing on his lap.  

"Feels good," she murmured, eyes closed as  she gently took his glasses from his head and placed them on the couch next to them, her fingers threaded through his messy curls. His cock twitched beneath her, nudging her clit, and she could feel her body growing even wetter, soaking through the fabric that separated them. Harry kept switching between her breasts, his mouth worshipping each one as he sucked harder, sending jolts of pleasure through her core.

Making her more drenched 

“Just like that, ride me Y/N” Harry growled, his voice low and demanding. His hands slid from her breast to her waist, guiding her movements. Making her move forward and backward, her clothed, dripping core dragged across his cock, making them both shiver with need. His tattoos peeked through as he finally tugged his shirt off, revealing his inked chest - abs flexing under the butterfly, the black ink stark against his flushed, heated skin.

Y/N's fingers trailed down, dragging her nails across his chest, loving the way his tattoos twisted beneath her touch. She leaned down, biting his neck, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. Harry groaned, loving the possessiveness of it—her mark on him. He was hers. 

“You’re doing so good, Angel” he murmured, nipping her ear. Harry was a complete mess beneath her. His eyes glossy, pupils blown away with lust, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, lips slick and swollen from their kisses. He looks so sexy, Y/N leaned forward, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, swallowing each other’s  moans while increasing her pace. 

He could not believe Y/N was on top of him, grinding against his cock, her sweet little moans filling the air. He was sure he’d reached heaven. He glanced down between them, seeing the wet patch her arousal had left on his shorts, mixed with his own pre cum. 

As Y/N ground herself against him, her clit dragged over the thick length of his cock, and each upward motion had his tip grazing her entrance. The feeling made them both shiver. Her blunt nails dug into his shoulders as her eyes squeezed shut in bliss, her lip caught between her teeth, trying to hold back a whimper. 

Harry slid his hand down, rubbing her clit with his thumb in slow, tight circles, giving her that extra bit of pleasure she craved. “I want you to feel good, baby,” he whispered, his fingers working faster, determined to push her over the edge. His angel deserved to feel good. 

Y/N threw her head back, overwhelmed by the sensation. “I’m gonna cum,” she whimpered meekly, her voice shaking. Harry quickened his pace, his fingers pressing into her clit with just the right amount of pressure. “Cum for me, baby,” he urged, his voice thick and desperate.

Y/N cries out as her orgasm rips through her, the coil in her belly finally exploding, sending waves of pleasure through her entire body. She felt like she was floating—fireworks and butterflies all at once. 

She has never cum so hard in her life. Her fingers never did the job, and vibrators were too boring for her. 

Below her, she feels Harry twitching. He buries  his face in her neck, biting down a patch of her skin to stifle his own moan as he reached the brink. Both arms wrapped around her waist, his eyes shut, loud and desperate whimpers falling from his lips. 

“That’s it, honey,” Y/N cooed, her voice soft and soothing, threading her fingers through his damp curls as she continued to ride him. She could feel him shaking beneath her as his orgasm finally hit, releasing with a loud groan as his body went rigid. His vision blurred, ears ringing, as the bliss overwhelmed him completely. He felt like he was in paradise, his body melting into hers.

For a moment, they just stayed like that—foreheads pressed together, hearts beating in sync, both of them coming down from their highs. Still trying to make sense of what just happened. Harry let out a breathy laugh, looking for his glasses and placing them again on his face. He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, still catching his breath.

Y/N smiled down at him, her fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest, loving how warm he felt under her touch. “And you’re a mess,” she teased softly, laughing with him. Harry grinned, pulling her closer.

"Yeah, but I’m your mess," he murmured, kissing her softly, the intimacy between them palpable.

They stayed like that, in each other’s arms, exchanging gentle kisses. “I want this with you, Y/N” Harry whispered, “I’m tired of pretending I don’t feel something for you. That I don’t feel this whenever I’m around you.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening as his words hit her. She opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

Harry pressed on, the confession spilling out of him like a flood. “I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want to ruin us. You’re my best friend, Y/N. The most important person in my life, and I was terrified of messing that up. But tonight... it just felt right. It always felt right with you.” 

The air hung heavy between them, the weight of his confession pulling her down, making her chest tighten. Y/N swallowed hard, her mind racing. She had always felt something too—always pushed it aside, too afraid of what it would mean for them and for their friendship. But now that it was out there, she couldn’t run from it anymore.

Harry’s eyes softened behind his glasses,  his heart racing a mile a minute. He had finally said it—the words he never thought he’d be able to voice, yet they spilled out of him because he couldn’t hold them in any longer. He had to tell Y/N everything. 

But he still didn’t know if she felt the same, if she liked—no, loved—him back. And though the thought of her rejecting him terrified him, he was ready for it. His heart would shatter into a million pieces, but he would respect her decision, even if it meant she wanted him out of her life completely. It would hurt—of course, it would—but the idea of staying by her side and making her uncomfortable hurt even more.

He braced himself for her response, never expecting what she would say next.

 “I love you, Harry. I think I’ve loved you for a long time... but I was too much of a coward to confess it,” Y/N murmured, her eyes glistening with tears. “All this time, I didn’t want to lose you, so I just... ignored it. But tonight? It meant everything. I want this with you too.”

She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. She could hear his heart pounding beneath her ear. 

“I always thought you had a thing for Emma from our sociology class,” Y/N added with a teary giggle, realizing how silly it sounded now.

Harry’s brows furrowed in confusion. Emma? He had never thought of her as more than a classmate. His friends had mentioned once or twice that Emma might have a crush on him, but he’d never taken it seriously. His focus had always been on Y/N.

Before he could explain, Y/N cut him off. “But now I get it—you don’t like her. It was probably just my insecurities talking,” she said softly, her eyes dropping to her lap as she fidgeted with her fingers, a nervous habit of hers.

“Baby, Y/N, look at me,” Harry gently commanded. “I had no idea you were worrying about all of this. Emma? I’ve probably spoken to her five times at most, and I don’t like her that way at all. You have nothing to be insecure about.” He cupped her jaw tenderly, his thumb brushing her cheek. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, my angel. The only girl I love and care about.”

Harry's thumb continued to stroke Y/N's cheek gently, his eyes soft and unwavering as he held her gaze. “You’re everything to me, Y/N. I’ve never even thought about anyone else the way I think about you. It’s always been you.”

Her breath hitched at his words, the insecurity that had weighed her down for so long now starting to lift. She opened her mouth to say something, but Harry wasn’t finished. His other hand slid down to cradle her waist, pulling her more closer if that was possible. They were basically molded together. 

“I love the way you say my name; I love how you play with my rings whenever you get nervous; I love the way you get excited over little things; I love the way you get grumpy whenever you are hungry; I love the way you look at me when you think I am not paying attention. And I love you; don’t ever want you to doubt that, okay?” 

Y/N felt warmth flood her chest as his words washed over her. She’d spent so long overthinking everything, never realizing that Harry had been feeling the same all along.

She blinked back the last of her tears, smiling up at him. “I don’t know why I thought otherwise,” she whispered, her voice shaky but full of emotion.

Harry pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there. “Because you care so much,” he murmured against her skin. “And that’s one of the things I love about you.”

Y/N leaned into his embrace, feeling safe and cherished in his arms. the tension in her body melting away.

Harry resting his chin on the top of her head. “But now, no more hiding, yeah? No more overthinking or doubting. It’s just us now. I’m yours, and I’ve always been.”

Y/N tilted her head back to look at him, her smile widening as her fingers laced through his. “Just us,” she repeated softly.

Harry’s heart swelled as he brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly. “Just us,” he echoed, his voice a gentle promise.

[moonstruckme]

hi maeeee!! can i request a poly! marauders where maybe reader is fighting with only one them and the others are shocked when they find out and try their very best to fix it even though things are quite tense? thanks maeeeee ilyyyy💐💐💐

Thanks for your patience with this one angel! It's not as angsty as I planned when I started writing it, but I hope you enjoy it <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k words

It’s James who finds you this time. You’re curled up in a corner of the couch, pretending to read whilst secretly feeling sorry for yourself. Your boyfriend sits next to you, touching your shoulder so that you turn to him for a kiss. 

“Still upset?” he asks after a peck. 

You ignore the complicated, knotty feeling that makes itself known in your chest. “Not at you.” 

“No, I know.” James smiles a little, gifting you another kiss. “I’d be coming in here with my tail between my legs if you were. I’d hate to be on the wrong side of either you or Rem’s wrath.” 

You stay quiet. You wouldn’t go so far as to call what you’re feeling wrath—that seems a tad dramatic to describe the low flame of vexation you’ve been burning for your tallest boyfriend—but you don’t feel like opening yourself up to the subject with James. You’ve already heard it from Sirius this morning. 

“Angel.” James gives your shoulder a cajoling squeeze. “Come on, when are the two of you going to get past this? It’s very awkward sleeping in the same bed with two people who are quarreling, you know.” 

“We sleep exactly the same as every other night.” 

“There’s underlying tension,” he counters lightly. You roll your eyes, and James laughs. “Oi, don’t get cross with me now, too. I’m just telling you about my lived experience.” He leans his head on your shoulder, all sweetness and treachery. “You’re really not gonna forgive him? You know he’s gonna stick you with Sirius in the divorce.” 

You huff a laugh. James grins up at you hopefully. You know there’s some sense to what he’s saying; one of you has to be the bigger person eventually. It had started small, a stupid disagreement, but you and Remus are each stubborn and petty enough to not want to admit where you were wrong. Now you’re more angry with him for being angry with you than for anything else. 

When you think of his coldness to you—never mind the fact that you’ve been cold to him in turn—that flame of vexation burns a little brighter. 

“I don’t know why you’re over here trying to convince me,” you tell James. “I won’t have any problem forgiving him if he actually apologizes.” 

James sighs. You look down at your book to avoid his disappointment. 

“Okay, then. But he does feel really bad, so you know. He’s in the bedroom with one of his headaches, and he asked if you were still upset with him.” You look up. James levels you with a weighted look. “Could probably really use a cuddle, if you two were on good terms.” 

James is at least only somewhat smug when you abandon your book to go to the bedroom. You pass Sirius in the hall, who gives you a smile and a firm peck on the lips, likely having just left Remus himself. You enter the bedroom expecting to see the curtains drawn, lights off, and your poorly boyfriend in bed, but instead Remus is standing, well lit by the daylight streaming in through the windows, book tented on the bed still made from this morning. He appears as though he was just on his way out. 

“Erm, hi,” he says, brows pulled together in the middle. He looks to be studying you. “Are you alright?” 

“Fine,” you answer, bemused. “Are…are you?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

The door clicks shut behind you. You startle at the sound, not having closed it yourself. Then, you watch as a resigned sort of irritation comes over Remus’ features at the same time as it settles into you. 

“Pricks.” He moves past you to the door, jiggling the handle. “It only locks from the inside, you twats.” 

“Love you too,” comes Sirius’ voice. “You can come out after you kiss and make up.” 

“And say you’re sorry!” adds James. 

Remus scowls. 

“Open it,” you tell him. 

“What do you think I’m trying to do? One of them is holding it shut.” 

“Let me try.” 

“Be my guest.” Remus steps back, letting you have a go at the handle. By putting everything you have into it you manage to twist it, but you can’t get it open even an inch. 

“Don’t hurt yourself, gorgeous.” Sirius sounds smug enough to make your face feel hot. “James is holding it on the other side here, a few more minutes and you’ll make him break a sweat.” 

You let go of the handle with a huff, turning and stalking towards the bedroom window. You start moving the desk out of your way. 

“Would you really rather climb out the window than be in a room with me?” asks Remus. You look over your shoulder, and he’s sitting on the bed, side-eyeing you with his back propped against the pillows. 

“It’s not about you.” You shove your hip into the desk, budging it enough for you to get at the window latch. “They lied and made me feel all guilty just so they could lock us in here.” 

“What’d they tell you?”

You try to get your fingernail behind the latch. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“Sirius had me thinking you were quite upset.” 

“Yeah, and probably that I was asking after you, right? James told me you had a bad headache.” 

A chuckle. “That was enough to make you come in here looking so flustered?” 

“My mistake,” you huff, but it turns to a short whimper when your nail breaks. “Christ, you’d think they’d make these easier to open. What if there was a fire?” 

“Don’t go out the window,” Remus says calmly. “You’ll ruin your tights.” 

You work another nail behind the latch. “I can’t just let them win.” 

“Mm. That’s a bit of a problem for you, is it?” 

A bitter coolness settles over you. You turn, crossing your arms. “Something to say?” 

Remus picks up his book, cornering a page. “Just making an observation, is all.” 

“Remus,” you say sternly. “Don’t act like you’re any better. You could’ve apologized at any time.” 

Your boyfriend levels you with a look. “Would that really have made a difference?”

“Yes!” 

“Honestly?” He looks like he doesn’t believe you. “All I have to do is say I’m sorry, and you’ll forget about all of this and be completely happy with me?” 

You shake your head, bewildered. “…Yeah. I mean, I would want to know that you understood how you hurt my feelings, but yeah. Really, it’s not that complicated.” 

Remus’ expression softens. “I do understand that, dove. Do you understand how you hurt mine?” 

“I…” You find you can’t quite look at him. “I imagine it’s sort of similar. Because I’ve been cold to you.” 

“And because you wouldn’t hear me out,” he says. It doesn’t sound like I told you so, not smug so much as gentle. “But it was a small thing to begin with, wasn’t it? I’m ready to be past it.” 

You frown at him. “It’s not about the argument for me. I’m already past that, it’s just everything else.” 

Remus considers you. “Would you come here, please?” 

You swear you wouldn’t go if he didn’t sound so kind. But you find yourself with your legs curled underneath you on the bed in front of him, Remus coaxing your hands into his. 

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” he says sincerely, looking you in the eyes. “It was a silly argument, and I shouldn’t have been so stubborn.” 

You chew the inside of your cheek, sizing up whether he means it. “I…also could have been less stubborn,” you admit begrudgingly. Your tone softens. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, too. I didn’t mean to.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” Remus’ touch coasts from your hands up your arms as he pulls you closer to kiss your forehead. “Are we okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say, mollified. 

He smiles at you. “Hear that?” he says towards the door. “You can let us out now.” 

There’s no response. 

Remus frowns as you get out of bed, going to try the handle. The door comes open, revealing and empty hallway. 

“Pricks,” Remus mutters. 

You find your boyfriends in the living room, James flicking through channels on the telly while Sirius reads the back cover of your book. James notices you first. 

“Oh, hello.” He grins at you as Sirius looks over. “All sorted, then?” 

You’re half tempted to pretend you didn’t make up just to spite them. When you look over at Remus, you suspect he’s thinking the same thing. 

“That was sort of mean, lying to me like that,” you say to James instead. 

He looks a bit contrite, but Sirius says insouciantly, “You were never gonna do it by yourselves, babe. We weren’t ready to start divvying up the furniture because you wanted to have a row.” 

You kiss your teeth. “I think I might be having a row with you now.” 

“What, us?” James’ eyebrows rise above the frames of his glasses. “What for?” 

“You lied to us both to make us feel bad,” Remus reminds him, “and then locked us in the bedroom.” 

Sirius isn’t impressed. “Well, it wasn’t really locked, was it. If you’d gotten desperate, you could’ve taken it off the hinges. Or just checked again after a couple minutes.” 

“She broke her nail trying to get the window open.” 

You hold up your torn fingernail as proof. Sirius coos, reaching for your finger and bringing it to his lips while you scowl at him. 

“Sorry, lovie. We had a plan to bring you food in a couple hours,” says James. “We were even going to let you out for bathroom breaks if you needed to go.” 

“Really, you wrapped it up much quicker than we were expecting,” Sirius praises. He’s still holding your finger, drawing his thumb up and down the side in easy, consoling strokes. “We thought you’d ice each other out until supper at least. I’m quite proud of you.” 

Remus scoffs. 

“Oh, come now.” Sirius grins. “Give us a kiss.” 

You roll your eyes but turn to Remus, extricating your finger from Sirius’ grasp to meet him in a chaste kiss. 

The other boys cheer. “There we are!” James tilts his face up expectantly. “Now one for me.” 

You and Remus exchange a look. 

“No,” you say coolly, “I don’t think so.” The two of you go to sit on the far side of the couch, away from both Sirius and James with you curled against Remus’ side. He looks a tad smug as he puts his arm around you. 

“Oi!” says Sirius. “Look what you’ve done, you’ve made James pull his sad puppy face. What do you have to say for yourselves?” 

“You lied to us,” you say again, slowly, with emphasis, “and locked us in the bedroom.” 

Sirius scoffs. “So dramatic.” 

“Oh, that’s rich.” 

“Will it help if we say sorry?” James asks meekly. 

Remus looks at you. You shrug. 

“Maybe,” he says. “You’re more than welcome to try and find out.”

[dreamsteddie]

I love pre Season 3 Steddie AUs so much because there are so many opportunities for Eddie to be so incredibly jealous of his boyfriend's new best friend, Robin Buckley.

Eddie got so used to Steve spending basically every moment of free time he has with Eddie in some capacity, even if it's just them shooting the shit in the back of Eddies van getting high after a long day and he's come to covet his Steve Time like a precious treasure.

And then all of a sudden Steve has a friend his age??? A friend who doesn't have an 8PM curfew???? What the fuck??????

But Eddie doesn't want to be a toxic, controlling boyfriend who doesn't let his partner have a social life! He really doesn't! And he gets that Steve and Robin went through something together that they won't, can't, share with him and they need each other. But he got so used to having all of Steve's time that whenever he has to spend a Saturday night alone because Robin and Steve are having Boy Time watching a soccer game and talking about their crushes, instead of hitting up his own friends or working on a campaign or whatever he just pines and sighs by the window lamenting about whether or not his beloved will return from the war. Wayne hates it.

When Steve and Eddie see each other the next day having spent literally less than 24 hours apart, Eddie latches on like a limpet and demands to be consoled with a thousand kisses and a grilled cheese sandwich.

Eventually, once Steve and Robin are a little more settled after the events of Starcourt, the three of them start spending more time together as a trio which at least allows Eddie to hold his boyfriend during movie night. Eddie reluctantly admits that Robin is actually really cool and they become fast friends right up until Eddie realized Robin is stealing his boyfriend ON PURPOSE.

It's not all the time but what Eddie has come to learn about Robin Buckley is that she is a menace. She'll real you in with her sweet freckles and charming ramblings but she's always looking for a way to fuck with Eddie, especially if he's wronged her first. Eddie returns a tape without rewinding it? Steve won't be at band practice tomorrow, actually, because Robin needs someone to help with her art project due on Monday. Eddie got Cheeto dust on Robin's favorite sweater? Suddenly Robin and Steve have plans to get drunk and plan a way for Robin to ask Vickie out for Valentine's Day. No boyfriends allowed. Eddie stole Robin's favorite Steve Sweater before she could get to it on movie night? Steve rainchecks Eddie for their bi-weekly Let's Get High date because Robin is conveniently sick. Must be because she didn't have a jacket on movie night.

Once Eddie catches on it becomes a fierce game competition between the both of them. Steve acts like he's none the wiser, but he's secretly lapping up all the attention he's getting.

[fangbanger3000]

we need to talk about The Silence and The Song

[PLEASE READ] edit to add: i realise that this post has been reblogged far and wide and that there is not a lot i can do about it now, but this is me trying anyway.

posting examples from the fic about my issues with its repetitive structure was careless of me, and i apologise to those of you who read it and became insecure about your own writing style. as someone who has worked with ai in academic settings, it's incredibly difficult for me to explain to you how the tone and structure of ai-generated fiction works and how, after reading enough of it, you can simply just tell. i do also realise that this is an incredibly weak argument, which is why i didn't include it when i originally wrote this post.

all that to say: there is an enormous difference between "beginner's writing" and ai writing. being repetitive as a new writer (or a seasoned one who just likes using repetition) is so normal. as is flowery/purple language. i've read hundreds of books and fics and the difference between these traits in ai-text and actual works is starkly clear. please don't feel anxious over the examples i've used in this post.

again, i apologise for any distress i have caused.

as per my last post, i have received a lot of encouragement to go public with this, and the more disappointed people i have in my dms, the angrier i get. so i will.

the silence and the song is an ancient arlathan au DA fic on ao3 by luxannaslut, and it is partly, if not entirely, written by an ai. i have no wish to be involved in any kind of fandom drama or witch hunting or bullying, but as a writer myself there are few things that piss me off more than watching people steal the work of others because they can't be fucked to write. it's disrespectful to your fellow writers, it's disrespectful to your readers, and it's disrespectful to the authors of the works the ai is stealing from.

ai is a plague that has no business being in creative spaces and you must do better.

the writing pattern

there was something very odd and monotone about the sentence structure of tsats that i couldn't quite place, so i fed chatgpt a prompt along the lines of "two people in a fantasy novel hate each other, but they secretly desire one another, and they kiss", and the screenshots above are the results. the third one is an excerpt from chapter 40 of tsats. the writing pattern is identical and it doesn't seem like the "writer" has even bothered to pretend they wrote it. if you're going to use ai, at least be sneaky about it. you know, paraphrase a little.

nonsense descriptions

"her nimble fingers worked with quiet precision" (ct. 1), "his grip firm but tender" (ct. 33), "her gown pooling around her like embers" (ct. 1).

fingers don't make sound, so what does quiet precision mean? as opposed to what? her joints cracking with every movement? how is a grip firm but tender? what does that mean? since when do embers pool?

the entire fic is littered with these adjectives that contradict each other or just straight up do not make sense, because all an ai does is generate descriptive language with no understanding of what the words it's spitting out actually mean. i could spend hours picking out examples from the seven billion pages worth of text, but i quite frankly have better things to do and would simply challenge you to try getting through a chapter or two without noticing the pattern.

repetition at structure-level

all the scenes in this fic are described in pretty much the same way. they open with purple prose vomit of the surroundings; solas is standing somewhere looking "unreadable as ever"; ellana's fiery golden molten fire copper ember ginger red hair is flowing this and that way; there's some dialogue with whoever is present and it leaves ellana feeling different variations of "something she couldn't name". this is, once again, a blatantly obvious sign of ai. below is the result of me feeding chatgpt the line "write me a scene from a fantasy novel where a woman with red hair is sitting on the ground in a magical garden at night", and side by side with that is the opening scene of the fic. make your own judgement.

repetition at word-level

this one speaks for itself. we fucking get it. her dress is orange, her hair is red, mythal's presence is heavy in the room, solas looks unreadable, compassion is sitting on her head like a crown, solas' ears are betraying him and ellana's move with every thought she thinks. we get it. the issue here is that an ai remembers the info you feed it, but not necessarily the info it shits out. if it's being told to write scene after scene of an elven woman with a gown that looks like fire doing xyz, it's going to do so with no regard for how many times the reader has already been informed of these details.

lastly: the breakneck speed

359,6k words in four weeks by a person who allegedly is employed and married and hasn't pre-written anything? no. any writer will tell you that this simply isn't possible. it absolutely infuriates me to see how much praise this "writer" gets for posting up to three full chapters in a day without anyone calling bullshit. i am pulling out my hair, you guys.

why i'm not going to live and let live this one

perhaps i would be less angry if the fic was some silly bullshit court intrigue Y/A stuff, but this is a text that handles very heavy and triggering topics such as SA, coercion, domestic abuse, and other things of the same vein. to sit back and put your feet up while having a robot write these extremely sensitive and very real human experiences with words it has stolen from texts written by actual persons is fucking heinous. the "writer" should be deeply ashamed of themselves and i'm sick and tired of watching people eat up their bs.

and on that note: the amount of people in my dm's telling me that they feel stupid and naive for not clocking this has infuriated me more than anything else. you're not foolish for this. being fed ai-generated bullshit is not what is supposed to happen on any creative platform and much less a fandom-centred one, so of course no one approaches a fic through that lens. fandom and fic writing is supposed to be about passion and the only person in this situation who needs to do better and change their behaviour is luxannaslut. polluting our creative spaces, wasting the time of your readers, and minimising the effort of actual writers who are working hard to provide content for us all to share and enjoy is vile and so, so lazy. i beg of you: do better.

[fastandcarlos]

Wearing His Shirt To The Paddock » F1 Reaction

» Max Verstappen

His head would shake in disbelief as you took off your jacket to show you the shirt that you’d picked out. Straight away, Max would exclaim about how he had been trying to find that shirt for ages, but with no luck. As you gave him a twirl, he bitterly found himself having to admit that you definitely pulled it off better than he did. He’d try and pout for a moment, making you think that he was upset that you’d stolen his clothes, but the shimmer in his eyes told you that secretly he was proud to see you pulling his shirt off so beautifully.

» Lando Norris

A yell of excitement came from Lando as he noticed the papaya of your shirt. Several others around the paddock looked around to see where the yell came from, but Lando only had eyes for you. His arms wrapped around you as soon as you were close enough, swaying you from side to side. Above all else, he was proud to see you wearing his shirt with all eyes on you. Lando couldn’t wait to show you off for the rest of the day, anyone who asked he told them how you were the best girlfriend, especially because you proudly wore the team colours, just like he did.

» Carlos Sainz

He was incredibly smug when he saw you walking through the paddock with your red shirt on. His teeth bit down on his bottom lip, trying to disguise his smile, as he looked over at the balcony. His eyes didn’t leave you as he noticed some of the cameras starting to snap pictures of you, proudly watching as he knew exactly what the headlines would be tomorrow morning. When you arrived, Carlos didn’t need to say a word, you knew straight away by the look on his face that you had him exactly where you wanted him from your choice of outfit.

» George Russell

You had never seen George so shy when he noticed you walking through the paddock with a Mercedes shirt on. His hands covered his face in disbelief, unable to believe what he saw. You strode over to him and tangled your arms around his broad shoulders straight away, peppering a trail of kisses along his jaw to move his hands away. The two of you didn’t need to exchange any words, the looks in your eyes said everything that you needed to tell each other. George was weak at the knees at the sight of you in Mercedes, and you couldn’t wait to make fun of him for it later too.

» Charles LeClerc

When he suggested you wear his shirt to the paddock, Charles didn’t believe you would actually do it. So when you appeared, he was sure that his eyes deceived him. As much as he hated to admit it, you suited the Ferrari shirt that he had given you perfectly. You’d made sure to style it to capture Charles’ attention, you wanted all eyes on you to make sure that everyone in the paddock knew who you were with. If anything, the attention you got made Charles very jealous as he watched on, no one was interested in him anymore, they just wanted to photograph the lady in red.

» Pierre Gasly

Your eyes glanced down as you felt the material of your shirt raise slightly again, the cool breeze tickling gently across your bare skin. With Pierre’s arm wrapped around your frame, he couldn’t help but play with the hem of your shirt as his eyes stared down at you admiring the view beside him. It was one of his most comfortable shirts, but now he was enjoying its comfort in a different capacity, unable to let the shirt go, but most of all he was unable to let your waist go as he felt how perfectly his shirt moulded around your body.

» Lewis Hamilton

You barely had time to close the door behind you before Lewis was holding onto you, taken aback by how amazing you looked in his shirt. When you hinted at wearing it, Lewis told you how nice it would be to see, but he didn’t think it would look this nice. For once, he didn’t care about who saw the two of you in the paddock, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have someone like you, and especially someone who wore his shirt so nicely too. His eyes looked nowhere else but at your shirt, knowing he’d have to pass a few more of his shirts across to you too.

» Alex Albon

The corners of Alex’s mouth immediately turned up into a smile as you revealed your shirt of choice for qualifying. You were proud to wear his shirt, to represent his team and cheer for Alex too. As soon as he saw you he pulled out his phone and took a picture of you, desperate to capture the moment of seeing you in his shirt for the first time. Alex was so lost in the moment that he almost didn’t realise that you were finally in front of him until he felt you press a gentle kiss against his lips.

———

Hello, I’m a new writer and would love some new moots and ideas - pls send me an ask with any requests and follow if you enjoyed this little piece 🥺

 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗