#and it didn’t matter whether or not I was there

[jamminvroomvroom]

let’s go ride.

LN x fem!reader

in which lando keeps getting frustrated and you wanna know why…

hiiiiii here u go! belated love day fic from me to you 💝 love u all, tysm for the love on my last few fics, i’ve had a lot going on lately so i’ve not had very much time to write but when the inspo hits….. shoutout to miss mcrae for dropping lando-coded bangers bc i literally cannot resist. might make a part 2 of all the times they get freaky in a car lmao, lemme know if you want that! likes, comments and reblogs are sooooo appreciated so lemme know what u think xoxox

proofed by my own personal goat @lavenderlando 💖

songs to set the vibes: sports car by tate mcrae, bad guy by billie eilish

warnings: 18+!! minors begone! smut, language, fluff, bit of angst bc lando’s in a mood, friends to lovers, p in v, porn without plot but there is a little bit of plot, bitchy lando

4.2k words

you sit in silence, opening spotify and preparing to fiddle with the bluetooth as he slips into the drivers seat beside you. the car door slams shut and he huffs, jawline taut with annoyance. the hood of his car is surrounded, a million and one cameras pointed at you both as he tries to relax into his chair. the engine roars to life and you side eye him.

“when are you gonna learn, hm?” you try and sound playful, teasing, but it comes out laced with a twang of scolding. lando tenses up even further, turning to glare at you.

“god forbid i go outside.” he snaps.

“give over.” you roll your eyes. “poor me, i’m famous! lando, you can’t get angry when you park in the most high profile spot on the fucking planet and your fans want to worship you.”

“you don’t know what you’re talking about.” he sighs, white knuckles wrapping tighter around the steering wheel.

“don’t i? this has been happening a lot lately.” your voice softens, ever so slightly. “every time i’m seen with you, you lash out.”

“because i don’t want people harassing you, looking at you like some fucking commodity.” lando snarls, steely eyes locked on the supposed car enthusiasts that are slowly backing away from his parking space.

“lando, we’re friends. this has always been a thing. why is it bothering you so much now?”

you wonder if it bothers him for the same reason it bothers you.

he shuts his eyes, collecting himself for a moment. he puts the car in drive and smoothly pulls out of the space, ignores your question. you scowl at him, at this sudden childishness that has overtaken his easygoing manner in the last few months.

“fine. whatever.” you mutter, slumping defeatedly into your seat. you give up on playing music, leaving him to bask in the silence, something he loathed.

lando had switched from his usual self to this stony, irate version of him that you rarely had the displeasure of seeing, from the second you walked out of the restaurant where you’d had lunch. he was reluctant to pose for photos and sign hats, something he usually revelled in, grateful that people even wanted to see him. the swathes of fans that had gathered had irked him for once, but what really boiled his blood was the photographers that seemed to find him no matter where he chose to spend him time. so much for monaco’s privacy laws.

it wasn’t like he cared about himself, either. it was you. the way they leered, leaned close to you while he was distracted with pens being shoved in his face. it was the way their eyes dipped low, whether you were in a tank top or a baggy hoodie. it was the way they spread the false, painful narrative all over the internet that you and lando were together, which drove hoards of losers into your comment section and your DMs just to call you names.

you were not together. as much as it pained him, you were just friends.

he couldn’t exactly explain his overprotectiveness to you without getting himself into a big, tangled mess. you, being the resilient, cool as a cucumber stoic that you were didn’t care what fourteen year olds on the internet thought about you. you weren’t about to let faceless, jobless trolls ruin the friendship that you’d nurtured for years, through ups and downs, thick and thin, race wins and huge losses. but lando, god, it killed him, tore him up inside every time someone so much as looked at you wrong.

“you really don’t get it.” he says, hushed, like he’s telling a secret. you turn to look at him, tearing your eyes away from the glistening view of the marina.

“lando, tell me then. make it make sense because i’ve never seen you behave like this. they love you! least you can do is lose the attitude over some harmless pictures.”

“jesus christ, it’s not the fans! it’s not the ���harmless pictures’! it’s these fucking creeps that follow us around just to make some money off of my own personal hell. you really don’t get it, because if you did, you’d know that it breaks my fucking heart to see the way people talk about you online, just for being seen with me. it’s my fault that you get harassed, that paps are basically stalking you now.”

he signs of his rant with a sharp inhale, one that seems to suck all of the life out of the car. you melt.

“but lando, it doesn’t bother me. i just wanna be here with you, i don’t care about the rest of it.” you coo softly, reaching over the centre console to grip his forearm.

“and i want you here. i want you with me every fucking second of the day, but i can’t cope. can’t help thinking that one day it’ll all just be too much and you’ll leave me.” he whispers.

“never. never ever ever.” you promise. your belly swirls with emotions, tickled from the inside out by butterflies that threaten to swarm.

lando breathes shakily, warmed through by the hand that rests on his arm as he manoeuvres through the twisty lanes. as he hits traffic and slows, he clocks another photographer looming on the pavement, lens aimed at his windshield. already too annoyed, he aggressively smacks his sun visor down, leaning over the console to reach yours too, pulling it down. he prays it’s enough.

“you need to relax, lan. i’m fine, we’re fine. i promise.” you reassure, but he’s breathing heavily now. “you don’t worry this much when it’s max.” you trail off.

he doesn’t know what comes over him. he spins the car into a sharp u-turn, positively speeding back in the direction you’d just come from. any mention of you and him as a ‘we’ makes him crazy, makes him utterly lose his mind, but something about your sweet, earnest voice bringing him back to reality has left him completely shaken. the sun is setting now, most people clearing out of the underground car park he pulls into to head back to their homes. he has other intentions. you don’t say another word until he pulls into a space at the back of the lot, tucked neatly into a corner.

“what are we doing?”

“need a minute.” lando rasps, forehead resting on his steering wheel, the matte leather pushing his sharp curls back. you trail your eyes over him, the way his chest rises and falls under the sweatshirt he’s wearing, the way his thick fingers curl as his grip continues to tighten.

“i’m jealous. and i’m selfish. and i’m a complete fucking idiot.” lando says, steadily, like he’s reading the news.

“you’re… you’re jealous? of what?” you’re like a deer in headlights.

“of any other person that gets to lay their fucking eyes on you.”

“what are you saying?” you whisper. the air in the car goes still, frozen. you can’t breathe.

“i’m saying… that you’re mine. and i should have made that a known fact a long time ago.” ever so slowly he looks up at you, and you gasp at the intensity of his stare. he’s gazing at you with complete conviction in his eyes, a whole lot of vulnerability mixed in with the sincerity of his words. “i don’t want anyone else anywhere near you. lose my fucking mind watching the way they look at you.”

“lando…” you trail off, eyes as wide as saucers. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

“i know this is terrible of me, to do this now, here - to do this at all, to be honest. i know that i have no right to stake some kind of claim on you, and i know that you probably don’t feel the same, but god, i just needed you to know. if you want me to shut the fuck up or leave you alone forever then i totally get it but-“

“oh my god, are you stupid?” you shake your head, still stuck in your state of disbelief, but you muster the coherency to grip the collar of his crewneck, tug him close.

your lips meet hastily, urgently, and every ounce to tension seems to seep out of the car. he moans at the very sensation of you against him, breath caught in his throat when you lace your finger through his hair like you want to mould your faces together, never stop. his brain finally catches up, awestruck as he is, and you trade passion and saliva, bumping noses as you clash chaotically.

“i think we’re both stupid.” he mumbles into your lips. you shut him up with another kiss, fiery and needy, and his hands begin to wander. he smoothes over the back of your jumper until he finds your waist, awkward in the limited space of the front of the car, and skims his hands up until he’s made his way beneath the material and he’s gripping your bare skin.

“too forward of me to ask you to get in the back?” lando pants with a cheeky smile.

“you literally just marked your territory on me, and nearly bit a photographer. i think we’re past ‘forward’.” you deadpan.

“then get in the fucking back.” he grins, devilish and commanding. you do as you’re told, wriggling between the leather until you’re propped up against the backseat. lando follows, sitting beside you, tugs you into his lap like you’re weightless.

you can feel him beneath you, hard and wanting, and you mewl, keen into him. your breaths mingle in the nonexistent space, lips brushing gently.

“this okay?” lando’s lips ghost over yours and you lean forward, just enough to reach him. he pulls back, eyes hooded, teasing, and tuts. “use your words.”

“who knew you were such a bossy boots.” you smirk. “more than okay.”

his eyes glaze over once he has your permission, and he kisses you like you’re the last supply of oxygen on earth. he licks into your mouth, wet and desperate and you whimper as he grazes over the crease of your thigh, toying with the hem of your skirt where it’s ridden up.

“can feel you.” lando groans, pulling away to look between your bodies. “so warm for me, you like seeing me all riled up?”

you nod coyly, lip caught between your teeth, and you swear you see his eyelashes flutter.

“what did i say about words?” lando composes himself enough to tease. you roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the way heat rolls through your body.

“like when you get all bitchy.” you reply, rolling your hips once.

“bitchy?”

“mhm. always been so easy to toy with.” you whisper, leaning in to nose along the thickness of his neck. you drag your tongue up the vein there, feeling it pulse under your tongue. he smells like his cologne, so him, and it makes you even hotter.

“oh, so you’ve been playing with me?” he chokes out, eyes rolling back in his head at the marks you’re leaving.

“maybe a little.” you hum.

“you liked watching me get angry? pretending to be all sweet and clueless?” lando whispers, the words hanging heavy in the space between you. all you can manage in response is a mischievous smile that twists his tummy.

your hands trail under his sweatshirt, skating over the muscled ripples of his belly, ever so slightly dipping into the band of his sweats. his head lulls back, blindly holding you close while you worship him. he lets you, lets himself have this moment, thinking for so long that it would never come.

“waited so long,” your lips brush over the shell of his ear, tongue grazing the lobe. he descends into a mess of shivers. “needed you to break first. i knew you would.” you croon.

“you’ve been loving this, haven’t you?” lando starts, low and calculating. “bet you’ve been getting off on dressing like a whore for the cameras, watching me suffer.” he pieces together. your resolve cracks. “bad girl.”

the sense of control you’d briefly maintained shatters, a hand around your neck forcing you away from him, preventing your sweet torture. his fingers flex, just above your collarbone, and you swallow at the smirk that seems to engulf his entire face. he looks animalistic, crazed with a feral adoration that leaves you certain that you’re dripping all over his lap.

“i think you’ve had your fun, baby, it’s my turn.”

you whine when he drags you across his lap, back and forth until you’re squirming. his hips rut up into yours, fuelling your desire for every single inch of him.

“please, lando.” you breathe, reaching out to lace your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“let me look at you.” he demands, shutting down your intentions for more. “i’ve waited long enough for this, don’t you think?”

“so have i.” you beg him with your eyes, but give in to him nonetheless. you’re staining his lap, grey sweats darkening as your wetness pools there and he can’t help but buck up into your warmth.

“wanna play with you, baby, see how you like it.” he taunts, bringing two fingers between your legs.

he brushes his knuckles over the obvious damp patch at the crotch of your panties, lip caught between his teeth at what he finds. your soaked through, and he pinches your bundle of nerves just to watch you thrash in his grip.

“i hate you right now.” you spit through gritted teeth, but your hips can’t help but chase his hand.

“doesn’t feel like it.” he kisses you quick, loving the way you lean in for more, but he relaxes against the seat and dips slowly beneath your underwear. “fuck.”

he doesn’t have to work too hard to spread your wetness around, you’re already lathered in it, but he continues to tease, fingers gliding over your clit and through your folds.

“please.” you beg, leaning back to give him as much access as possible.

“what do you want, baby? tell me.” he urges, drawing circles on the swollen bundle of nerves.

“your fingers.”

“you have them.” he barks out a condescending laugh, applying more pressure just to prove his point.

“need them inside of me.” you pant, eyes squeezing shut at his sadistic game between your thighs.

“that’s my girl.” he praises, and you curse, clamping down around him before he even gets the first knuckle inside of you.

“how are you doing this to me?” you think aloud, tears in your waterline already. it all feels far too good for a first time.

“because i know you better than you think i do.” he coos.

lando pulls you flush against him, grinding his fingers deep so that they curl deliciously against your sweet spot. his palm bumps your clit with every twist of digits and he nips over your collarbone. his tongue laves over your skin, tasting the perspiration that gathers as the car steams up around you. you’re suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, huddled together in the back of his urus in a dimly lit car park. thank god you’d lost the photographers.

“can’t believe we’re doing this.” you gasp, feeling your tummy tighten at the thrill of it all, of feeling your best friend work to please you.

“i knew it would happen. knew that someday i’d get to see you like this, all for me.”

“all for you.” you repeat, drunk on him as you rode his fingers. “feels so good.”

“want you to come for me like this.” lando orders, replacing the heel of his hand with his thumb against your clit. his ministrations are more controlled like this, precise, and you throw your head back in pleasure. his teeth sink in to the base of your neck, sucking softly over the bruising skin, lapping at the mark to soothe it.

“i’m so close, lan.”* you choke, riding his fingers as you near your release.

“c’mon baby, make a mess for me.” he urges, eyes locked intensely on yours. you’re enticed by the sea green storm that swirls in his irises, shrinking as his pupils blow with lust. you can’t help it, can’t delay the inevitable, and you thrash in his arms, wildly bucking your hips against his as you fall apart.

you gush all over his lap, further ruining his sweatpants but he doesn’t bat an eyelid, working you through your orgasm until you’re spent. he’s transfixed by the way your thighs glisten, by the way your release seeps through the material covering his crotch and it makes him throb.

“that’s it baby.” he murmurs, voice low and smooth. you pant, collapsing forwards onto him.

“thank you.” you whisper into his neck, and he laughs softly.

“don’t thank me, silly girl.” he coos into your ear. you pull back just enough to kiss him, taking it slow, giving you a moment to come down from your devastatingly intense high. you’re exhausted, eyes fluttering shut from the exertion, and he tucks sweaty strands of your hair behind your ears. his fingers graze your warmed cheeks, noses bumping and you take him in, carefully studying the lines of his face, the sharp slope of his nose, the flutter of his eyelashes against those ridiculously high cheekbones.

“you’re so pretty.” your voice floats over him like a delicate caress, makes him shiver. he grins at you, enamoured.

“didn’t think our first time would be in the back of my car but i don’t think i can’t wait to get you home.”

“you’ve thought about this?” you ask, bashful. he gazes up at you sheepishly.

“every night before bed.” he jokes, and you shift your hips.

you’re overstimulated, but it does the trick, the playful haze shattering, replaced by thick, charged tension.

“you gonna make that fantasy a reality?”

“yeah. yeah, i am.” he mumbles.

his hands skim your waist, pushing your jumper up as he goes higher and higher, until it’s off, chucked into the footwell. you tear at his sweatshirt until it joins your discarded clothing and explore the bronzed planes of his chest, extra sun-kissed by the trip you’d taken to dubai just a few weeks before. if only you’d known then…

“hurry.” you plead, and he scoffs, adjusting you on his lap just enough to free himself from his sweatpants and boxers, and you gawk down at what’s revealed to you.

it’s big, thick, and you sigh in relief that he’d so thoroughly stretched you out, got you nice and slick for him already.

“gonna take it all for me?” lando taunts, catching your hanging jaw between two firm fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“gonna try.” you reason, breathing shakily as you rise up on your knees. you feel the head of his cock prodding your clit, the sodden tip running along your folds until it catches on your entrance. you both hiss as the contact, his hands steadying your hips.

“you can do it, baby.” lando promises, helps you begin your descent.

“oh my god.” you gasp, sinking down slowly. “dunno if i can take it, lan, you’re so- so…” you trail off, head thrown back far enough that you miss the way he’s smirking up at you.

“c’mon baby, being such a good girl for me, i know you can take it. just a little more.” he goads, pressing each button of your apparent praise kink, and you whine, soft moans tumbling from your lips. a sense of determination becomes you, and you’re aching to take him all the way.

you cry out his name when you’re pressed flush against him, and he soothes circles into your hips, holding you close against his chest. one hand smoothes through your hair, the lace of your bra scratching against his chest as you breathe rapidly.

“well done, baby, knew you could do it.” lando praises, trailing kisses over your face. you quiver in his hold, hips wiggling ever so slightly, and he takes that as a sign. “want me to do the work, hmm? make you feel so good?”

you nod lazily, looking up at him from where your face is smushed against his shoulder, and he lets you break his rule of “words”, softened by how beautiful you look, vulnerable in his strong arms. he starts to move, fucking up into you slowly, feeling you out. you can feel him twitch inside of you, his breath catching in his throat at the feeling of you, tight and warm, enveloped all around him. you roll your hips languidly, meeting his thrusts and you both moan out as the explosion of sensations unfolds between you.

“harder, lando. can take it.” you mumble, glazed over doe eyes looking into his. he tenses up, shaken to the very core by the emotional tether between you, feeling the way it grows even stronger. the one woman he’d wanted since he’d laid eyes on you, the one women he never thought he could have; his heart pounds violently in his chest.

he readjusts your hips, pushing you back so that you’re upright once more, eyes raking hungrily over your flushed body. your skirt is bunched around your waist, panties tugged to the side, cups of your bra barely covering anything anymore. he tweaks a nipple through the lace, paws at your tits until you’re fluttering around him. the cups of your bra are tugged down, resting below your breasts and he swallows hard.

“fuck me, you’re so beautiful.” lando rasps, leaning you back further to perfect the angle.

once he’s satisfied, he bounces you against him, meeting your hips with harsh thrusts, his pace unrelenting. he can see the way you pool around his base, dampening the thatching of hair that decorates his pelvic bone. you seem to chase the friction there, rutting your clit against him. sweet puffs of breath fill his ears, melodic combined with a symphony of your needy whines, continuously intensifying as he fucks you deeper and deeper.

“it’s so good.” you slur, mouth hanging open, totally unhinged from the raw pleasure that he courses through your veins.

“you’re doing so good for me, baby.” he wants to say more, but then he sees it, the way your lower belly seems to protrude with every roll of his hips. “oh, fuck.” he cries out.

“do you see that, baby? see how deep i am?” lando growls, voice rippling through your connected bodies. you glance down, and the first tears start to fall.

“oh my god.” you repeat, nothing else to say, totally braindead at the sight. your cheeks are wet with tear tracks, utterly overwhelmed by the way he’s taking you, so blissful that it hurts.

“you crying for me, baby? do i feel that good?” lando mocks, reinvigorated by the way your tears gather at your collarbone. his hand swipes messily against your throat, swiping them away, but you catch his hand, keeping it there. your eyes lock as your hand squeezes around his, a silent plea. he rocks up into you even harder, hand clamping around you neck slowly, leaving your breathless, liquid heat shooting down your spine. you can’t stop it from hitting you like a ton of bricks, can’t hold back, not when he’s making it hurt so fucking good.

“lando, i can’t- i’m gonna- fuck.” you bellow, falling to pieces around him. he keeps you propped up through your orgasm, plowing into your limp body until you’re so tight around him that he quite literally can’t keep going. he shudders, repeating your name like a godforsaken prayer as his abs flex beneath your shaky hands. you feel him filling you up, shots of warmth painting your insides.

lando lets you collapse into his arms, holding you tight as you both tremble in the silence of the car. condensation rolls down the windows, giving away your frenzied desires. if anyone caught sight of his car, it wouldn’t be hard to do the math.

“gonna let me take you home so we can do that again?” lando laughs, breathing you in. he can feel the way your chest rumbles softly in response, hears your angelic, raspy laugh.

“gimme a sec, don’t think i can move ever again.” you groan, sighing into his chest.

you stay there for a while, basking in it, coming down. he traces shapes into the bare skin of your back; you absentmindedly trace a heart into the window fog.

when you finally manage to redress, it’s dark outside, bright lights casting patterns into the calm midnight of the marina. he holds your hand as he drives up into the heights of monaco, and you stare at the way yours fits so perfectly with his, just like how your head tucked so perfectly into the crook of his neck. you smile out the window and lando smiles at you.

by the time bedtime rolls around, you’re both well and truly exhausted. when you try and wriggle out of his grip, ready to retreat back to the guest room like a wounded animal, lando pouts - pouts! - and holds you even tighter.

“silly girl.” he kisses the words into your hairline, and drifts off to sleep.

-

hehe

-

taglist

lemme know if you wanna be added or removed! any tags that don’t work will be removed xo

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taglist cont. in reblogs. smooches

[chelseeebe]

girls on film

18+. mdni! smut, so much smut. p in v, eddie is a munch! alcohol mentions. pornstar!eddie munson x reader. no use of y/n! modern au.

eddie munson makes porn. you make it. only, eddie doesn't much like the sounds of that.

a/n: happy valentines day my loves! spend some time with our favourite nerd eddie instead of a real man that'll only disappoint. i am so guilty of always giving eddie a breeding kink and then just never giving him any children oopsie hehe. i've been writing this on and off for months now, i already have a p2 and p3 the question is whether i'll finish them or not lol

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

when anyone asked, you’d tell people you were a set assistant. 

what they didn’t have to know was that you were a set assistant for pornstars. 

it wasn’t ever a dream of yours, nor something you’d have ever pictured yourself doing, but it paid the bills and hey, sometimes you met cool people through it too. 

today’s no different to any other, waiting for the talent to arrive as you prep the scene. it’s something ludicrous, metal guy meets friends innocent younger sister, something along those lines. 

you never really paid attention to much of that stuff, at some point it just became so much noise and frantic movement that the script never really mattered. 

he’s late. you’ve heard whispers of his nonchalance before. only hoping that you’d still get home on time. 

when the elusive man finally decides to bless you all with his presence, you’re taken back. not ever expecting the lanky guy that had shuffled through the door. all hair and denim. 

his charm makes up for his tardiness. flowing out of his mouth in droves, shaking hands and sharing hugs with the crew until he gets to you. 

“hey,” the man grins, pulling you in for a half-hug, “i’m eddie, super excited for today now that i’ve seen you.” 

you stare back in confusion, you’d be running towels and telling lighting what to do, why would he ever be excited about that? 

“anything you’re not comfortable with?” he asks, squeezing your arm gently. 

“oh.. what? i’m not- sorry, i just work on set,” shrinking into yourself although flattered that he’d thought you were starring opposite him. 

“oh,” sounding almost disappointed, “that’s a real shame,” the thick smell of his cologne and cigarette smoke wafting towards you. 

your cheeks burn, averting your gaze to the ground, finding solace away from his heavy stare. 

“who is the lucky lady?” eyes gliding around the women in the room, choosing to once again settle on you. 

“she’s.. um, she’s getting ready,” gesturing towards the small dressing area you had. 

you were never this bumbling, a thousand handsome men had stood before you and had never, ever had this impact upon you. 

“cool.. okay,” he nods, “where d’you need me?” his leather jacket tightening around his strong arms, knocking the wind out of your chest. 

“over here,” gesturing vaguely at the empty makeup chair, losing any and all composure when he pats your arm on the way past. 

christ. 

you needed to get a grip and get it fast. 

-

a lick of fresh air would help pull you from this disgustingly down bad headspace he’d plunged you into. 

or not. 

eddie’s hand curls around your arm just before you reach the door, “i’ll join ya,” cigarette already poised in between his lips. 

you can only nod, stepping out into the cool air though it does nothing for your flushed cheeks, edging away despite his efforts to keep close. 

you’re a little intimidated by his hardiness and hardness. struggling to keep your eyes above the waistband. 

“you ever thought about doing this?” he asks, blowing the smoke from the side of his mouth. 

“not really.” 

“that’s a shame,” he smirks, “i think we’d make something beautiful,” keeping his gaze steady on your flustered face. 

“stop it,” brushing him off coyly, he didn’t have to be so sickly sweet, his smirk had clearly already worked its magic on you. 

“you don’t agree?” eddie’s eyebrow raises, taking a slow, drawn-out toke of his cigarette.

you shake your head, “there’s a reason i’m behind the camera and not in front of it,” staring out at the bleak, grey parking lot. 

“well i think we should change that,” stepping in front of you, leaving you no room to not look at him, “i’m in town for the week, i’d love to see you again.” 

this didn’t happen to you, ever. the girls you worked with were otherworldly in terms of their beauty, no one ever really paid you any attention at all. 

eddie can sense your hesitation, assuming that he’d scared you away already, “look, take my number. you don’t have to call but i’d like you to,” slipping his cell from his pocket. 

you nod almost on your own, retrieving your own phone to hand off to him. he’s slick in the way he taps the number in, cigarette balanced on his lip as his eyes flicker between phone screens. 

“there ya go,” placing your phone back in your clammy palm, “do what you want with it, i go back to chicago on thursday,” making it clear that whatever this may be, would be temporary. 

“o-okay,” nodding quickly, there was a high likelihood that his number just sat there for the rest of eternity, never to be used or clicked on again. 

you don’t take eddie as the type of guy to pressure you, in fact, he seems quite the opposite. so much so that if you don’t take him up on his offer, you’ll never hear from him again. 

it’s truly an offer you really shouldn’t refuse, but yet you’re hesitant to even accept his advances. mixing work and pleasure like this, especially with someone like eddie, could only end one way. 

“i better get back in, y’ready?” holding the door open, a real gentleman, making you flustered of the most common of decencies. 

you were fucked. 

-

it’s hellish watching him perform. 

not just seeing everything his tight jeans had hidden away but also the way he truly cared about his partner. 

all the gentle touches to her face, cradling her body while completely disrespecting it too. globs of spit leaving his mouth to coat her cunt, making your thighs press together with indescribable want. 

he glances back between takes, making sure to catch your eye every single time. running his tongue over his bottom lip, knocking the air from your lungs without fail. 

you’d bore witness to many overdramatic, frankly fake orgasms in your years on set. very rarely did anything ever make you feel quite like you did today. screaming jealousy at her disappearing eyes, the way his lips brush against her ear, guiding her through her second orgasm of the session. 

it’s not loud, or irritating, just soft mewls accompanied by his soothing voice, making sure you were soaking right through your jeans. 

when eddie cums, his lips fall apart, head thrown back as his hips stutter, using her back as a canvas, jaw gritted together. 

“that was great!” tom yells, your makeshift director. ushering for you to hurry up with the towels and cold water. your fingers trembling as they brush against eddie’s. 

he offers a sweet thank you, quickly slipping back into his robe as you try to regain some semblance of control over yourself. 

you’re ridiculous, a giggly teenage girl more than a grown woman who watches people fuck for a living. this had solidified your position on ever calling him, and simply put, you couldn’t. 

in fact, you’re not certain you can even speak his name again, destined to live a life of perpetual wondering about what could have been. 

-

one glass of wine seemed to have been all it took to get eddie fucking munson back into your head. 

you’d done so well so far, managing to push the disgraceful thoughts way, way to the back of your mind, only for one measly glass of sauvignon blanc to destroy all of your progress. 

it’s not like you were actually going to call him, just toying with the idea, hovering over the button. a little foreplay, if you will. 

maybe you should. 

if one glass of wine was enough to have you already breaking the promise you’d made to yourself, who’s to say what years and years of unknowing would do? 

eddie was interested first, he came onto you first. there’s no doubt he’d be as eager as you were, but you still can’t help the niggling sounds of apprehension. 

the tone is dialling before you can second guess yourself and end it, fingers trembling around your phone, as if it were a ticking time bomb awaiting detonation. 

it rings a couple times before it clicks, connecting the call, “hello?” his voice echoes, thick and as intoxicating as the first time you heard it. 

your lips move yet produce no sound. reluctantly hoping he’ll think it’s a prank call and block the number. 

“eddie,” the first word to form on your tongue, potentially the worst thing you could’ve said. 

“it’s you,” his smile evident, even through the phone, “i was hopin’ you’d call,” you can hear the hustle and bustle of the restaurant now, he mumbles something to a passing waiter about the bill and now suddenly you feel immensely guilty about calling him on a saturday night.

“i’m sorry- am i interrupting something?”

“not at all,” and you can hear him smile all over again.

but what you don’t see is him glancing over at the busty redhead still at the table, waving back at her innocuous wiggle of the fingers. 

“what’re you doing tonight?” he asks, leaning back against the cool brick wall. 

“nothing really.. i mean, if you’re not busy, maybe you could.. or we could do something?” wanting to die the second the words leave your lips. 

“that sounds good to me,” his audible grin unwavering, “how ‘bout i come over?” 

you freeze, looking around at the mess surrounding you, piles of paperwork and clothes litter the floor, resembling somewhat of a dumpster rather than an apartment. 

“..you don’t want me to, that’s okay,” answering his own question. 

“-no!” interjecting before he could change his mind entirely, “you should come over,” turning into a desperate little slut before he’d ever even touched you. 

eddie pauses, his feet shuffling in the background, “okay,” voice intoxicatingly thick, “give me thirty minutes and i’m all yours.” 

all yours. 

christ. 

you can feel your knees buckle, turning into putty in his hands. 

“o-okay, i’ll send you the address,” ending the call before you fumble this any further. 

immediately springing up from the mattress, deciding that the one and only time you’re going to mix work and pleasure must be perfect. you work on grabbing piles of clothes, shoving them back into the closet they belonged in. 

eddie wouldn’t care, would he? 

perhaps keeping stuff to the living room would be better, the tiny couch would make do. 

-

thirty minutes practically on the dot, there’s a knock on the door. 

oh god oh god oh god. 

this was a mistake. 

you should shut off all the lights and just pretend you’re not home. 

don’t be so silly. 

cursing the self-sabotaging thoughts, damned to make you second guess every single thing about yourself. 

your head peaks around the open gap, eyes falling on his chest to rise up and meet his daunting eyes. there’s a bottle of wine tucked beneath his arm, the half bottle you’d downed beforehand completely unbeknownst to him. 

eddie blinks, his lips cocked to the side, “well hello,” dressed far too nicely for a drunken booty call at your apartment. 

“hi,” utterly meek and pathetic, swooning over his suave greeting. 

“you look good,” gaze trailing down to your bare legs. you hadn’t expected him to be so put together, now regretting your choice of what was essentially just pyjamas. 

“tha-thank you,” pulling the door open wider, “come in, please,” stepping back to let him inside. 

the air thickens immediately, your clothes suddenly too tight and your palms clammy. if you ever wanted eddie to stay interested in you, you’d have to get ahold of yourself quick. 

“nice,” he saunters around the room, looking at your pictures and the other piles of accumulated artefacts ok your shelves. settling just before the couch to turn and smile. “you live alone?” 

you nod automatically, the air sucked from your lungs at the sheer sight of him in your apartment. it felt like some strange crossover dream that really should’ve stayed unexplored. 

“that’s good to know,” helping himself into the kitchen, opening cabinets to presumably find two wine glasses. 

you brush off his comments, it was no secret as to what he was here for. “top left,” arm brushing against his as you make your way into the small space. 

musk and a hint of lingering cigarette smoke waft your direction, decidedly not turning to sniff his jacket like you so wished you could. 

“care to join me?” offering the bottle out in your direction. 

if you were even just an inch braver, you’d create some witty come back, some utterly irresistible flirty banter that’d surely have him crawling on his knees for you. 

but you aren’t, so instead you nod, hoping you won’t resemble such a wallflower all night. 

-

“can’t believe a pretty girl like you was gonna spend a saturday night all alone,” eddie gushes, a quarter of his wine sipped away. 

it’s incredibly hard to remain stoic when his eyes are crescent-moons, lashes cascading shadows over his cheeks and his tongue periodically wets his plump bottom lip. a routine he's no doubt mastered the art of by now.

“i’m always..” gesturing into thin air, unfortunately aware that whatever came out of your mouth next would make you look like a pathetic loser, “i mean, i go out sometimes..” making matters worse tenfold. 

“really?” 

why’d you open your mouth? 

“no.. i work a lot so..” clearing your throat in a bid to make him forget you’d ever spoken. “i hope i didn’t interrupt anything..” shrugging softly, though you’d already known you had done. 

“i was out for dinner.. nothing important,” brushing you off, “she wasn’t exactly.. uh, great company,” laughing into his glass of red. 

the cogs turn, sudden realisation that you had interrupted a date. and he’d let you. 

“you were on a date,” cringing at yourself, frustratedly embarrassed for no good reason, “i’m sorry- fuck, you should’ve said,” wanting to die a thousand deaths. 

he looks utterly perplexed, “if i wanted to be there, i’d be there, alright?” patting your thigh, the first of his daring moves, “i wanted to see you,” thumb circling the soft skin. 

already making you melt half an hour in. you were toast. there’s positively no way you’ll make it out of here with your dignity in tact. 

“..okay,” bashfully nodding along to his heavy words, seldom to back down so easily. there’s just something about eddie munson and his doe eyes that turns you into a submissive mess. 

his hand doesn’t move from your knee, tracing circles around the bone, “you’re so beautiful and you don’t even know it, do you?” trying his hardest to meet your averted gaze. 

fuck. 

your cheeks burn, pussy already throbbing and he had scarcely touched you yet. how was it possible for him to be so sweet? his words thick like molasses, dripping, leaving their mark all over you. 

“i’m just..” what has gotten into you? this was pathetic. “you’re very kind eddie,” smiling gently, as if his words hadn’t sent you into cardiac arrest. 

he hums, a deep noise from the bottom of his chest, “say my name again sweetheart,” purring, toying with coming closer, “i like it better when you say it.” 

you’d scream it if he wanted you to. let all your neighbours know who was making you act like such a fool. 

“you don’t have to sweet talk me.. you’re already sat on my couch,” finding the last lingering ebbing of confidence to bite back. 

eddie laughs, deep and rumbling, “but i like seeing you squirm.”

oh god. 

had he trained in this? he’s so quick witted, bouncing off of whatever you say immediately. 

“you’re so..” trailing off into silence as you meet his heavyset gaze, intimidated and fazed all at once. 

“so.. what, sweetheart?” cocking his head to the side, alongside his lips. 

you hate him. 

his overwhelming confidence, his gaze that has your heartbeat in your throat and your fingers clawing at your thigh. there was something so intimidating and yet oddly charming about his presence.

“so annoying,” biting back, only really annoyed that he had successfully woo’d you. and without much effort at all.

eddie looks vaguely hurt for a moment, only for his grin to spring right back onto his face, “i don’t think you mean that,” sucking on the backs of his teeth. 

you’d been caught out immediately, bowing your head to hide the inevitable flush. 

just fucking do it. 

the same nagging voice that had made you call him in the first place starts up again, louder this time. if his brazen flirting wasn’t enough to get you to make a move, what would be? 

choosing to grasp the moment as it is, refusing to allow him any more power over you for tonight.  

you charge forward, chest bashing into his equally as heaving chest, attempting to straddle his thighs until you’re stopped by his large palm groping your thigh. 

he breaks apart, the back of his hand brushing against your cheek, “it’s real sweet that you think you’re in charge,” quickly taking your wrists into his grasp, pushing against your pouncing stance to press your back against the couch instead. 

you let him, sinking into the cushions as he moves atop of you, hands skilfully skirting over your hips, tugging at your loose-fitting shorts. 

“oh darlin’, i’ve been waitin’ for this,” running his hands back up your doughy thighs, squeezing the pliant flesh on their way. 

you just about melt under the pressure of his sweet talk, allowing him the power to manoeuvre your body any which way he wanted. there’s a soft thunk as your sweatpants hit the floor, his hand spreading your legs to give him full view of your sodden panties. 

you’re not sure you’ve ever been as wet as you are now, positively drenched just by the feel of fingertips against your skin. 

eddie hums, large hands skirting your thighs, a soft squeeze to the doughy skin, “i really thought you’d never call,” slowly sinking down, leaving a trail of peppered kisses on his way, the tank top you’d slung on gives him perfect view of your hardened nipples, tugging the fabric until your tits fall out. 

“wouldn’t that have been such a shame?” continuing on, making you squirm with every lick of his lips, every last syrupy sweet word. 

his lips attach to the overly sensitive skin as his free hand palms the other, tongue twisting around the bud forcing the pathetic whimper from your throat. 

you can feel him smile against your chest, mouth popping off just to lock around the other, continuing his descent down between your legs. 

he pries your thighs apart, looking up at your skittish eyes, jumping from object to object as the pressure in your clit worsens. 

his lips startle you, warm and wet on the pliant skin, sucking and nibbling until he reaches the hem of your shorts. “you dressed up f’me,” hooking his fingers into the waistband, a short tap on your hip has them jumping up to help him. 

eddie glides them down your legs, holding onto your ankle as the fabric hits the ground. his pretty pink lips curve upward before pecking the soft cotton clothing your cunt. he’s a genius, a master of his craft. you’re not at all shocked that women were lining up to have their turn. 

you quiver when he pulls away, thighs pressed together in a bid to satiate the ache left in his wake. 

his thumb traces your clothed slit, pressing into your hole just to come right back up and circle your clit. it’s almost as if you can feel your brain chemistry changing with every single touch, destined to haunt every other encounter you’d have after this. 

no one had nor would ever touch your body with such sincerity and care again. it just wasn’t possible. 

arousal seeps out, turning the gray coloured cotton darker, literally dripping with want for him. 

your hands come up to hide your warm face, covering your eyes, mostly as an excuse to cut the weighted eye contact he hadn’t once broken. 

but his hands are fast, faster than yours. coming to pull yours right back down again, scolding you for even trying it. “don’t do that.. please don’t do that.”

you nod, vowing to do nothing to piss him off again. eddie’s a professional at best, a whore at worst. he knows what’ll get you whirring, knows where to lay his fingers and in what tone to whisper his words. 

sickening. 

he smirks, one-sided, “i like that you don’t fight it,” trusting you enough to let go of your wrists, delving back between your plush thighs. 

words fail to form, overcome with such horniness that you can’t think straight. 

enough of the games, you want to bellow. 

touch me touch me touch me. 

you’re aching, clenching around nothing. the hollow emptiness driving you further and further into craziness. 

“can we..” sighing softly, losing your train of thought as quickly as it came, “i need you,” digging your nails into the poor couch. this cruel and twisted routine had to stop. 

“nuhuh,” eddie huffs, his warm breath splaying across your cunt, “i’m takin’ my sweet time with you,” using his middle and forefinger this time to dance tauntingly over your pussy, grinning manically to himself. 

“but-,” cut off when his fingers curl around your panties, the cool, harsh air hitting your cunt, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“wow,” he marvels, looking lovesick at your slick folds, “she’s so pretty,” in awe of the sight before him. 

your self-consciousness had faded, losing to your disgustingly eager lust. he could do whatever, however he wanted to you. he just needed to do it quickly. 

his tongue peaks out over his lips, preparing for his feast, “you’ve been so patient,” stubble brushing against the inside of your sensitive thigh, “i think you deserve this.” 

with that, your panties come down, he doesn’t even need you to move, expertly manoeuvring them from your skin. he cradles the damp fabric between his fingers for a moment before sliding them into the back pocket of his jeans. 

you can’t protest, you don’t even want to. he was welcome to take whatever he wanted or needed. 

eddie wraps a hand around your calf, resting it upon his shoulder, repeating the motion as your feet settle on his upper back. his palm finds your thigh next, looping his arms around for leverage. 

he hums with pure sick, adulterated satisfaction, one last glance at your glistening cunt before meeting your gaze. “keep your eyes on me sweetheart,” kissing lazily at the skin, antagonistically slow to make his way up. 

your fingers lay on the couch, scared for what you can and can’t do. 

his tongue meets your folds, pulling you out of your worry and into the real world. fuck whatever his rules were, you needed to touch him. weaving frantic fingers through the curls on top of his head, receiving an encouraging hum of approval, his throat vibrating against your cunt. 

“oh my.. fuck,” panting into the abyss, unable to stop your hips from moving against his face. you’d fuck his face and any other time, he’d let you, but that wasn’t the plan. 

he clamps down on your wriggling hips, keeping them pressed to the couch, refusing to allow you any control over the situation. 

eddie’s lips attach to your poorly neglected clit, sucking gently at the bud, forcing the not-so-quiet moans out of your throat, fingers curling around the strands just to tug on them with every flick of his tongue. 

the knot in your stomach is tight already, threatening to snap at any moment. especially trying when the tip of nose nudges at your clit, sitting right on top while his tongue makes you see stars, circling around your hole and right back up between your folds. 

you’ve never been this wet in your life, arousal dripping from his chin to your ass and thighs. when he pulls away just briefly, his puffy lips gleam in the dim light of your apartment. it’s only momentary though, quickly diving back in to pull you over the edge. 

his tongue swipes thick stripes over your cunt, aching for something him to just fill you up. “shit,” you hiss through gritted teeth. your eyes struggle to stay open, he’d forgive you, right? it was no fault of yours that his tongue felt too good, drawing you to the edge just to rip it from under you. 

lolling your head back against the arm of the couch, no longer able to abide by his arbitrary rules. your thighs were trembling, fingertips entangled in his locks, nothing except your impending orgasm mattered. 

eddie voices his displeasure through a low grumble, only twisting the knot further as his tongue laps at your pussy. a ravenous dog of sorts, refusing to let up until you came on his tongue. 

“fu-uck eddie- i can’t.. i’m gonna cum,” vibrating against his ears, feeling his smile against your core. a sick, perverted man that had you exactly where he wanted. 

the band snaps, throwing you over the edge with a twist of the stomach, shaking legs that struggle to stay perched on his shoulders and a verse of soft pleas and eddie’s that resemble a hymn. 

“.. jesu- shit,” shuddering breaths and mewls that fill the room, letting him lap away at your spent cunt. your limbs mimic jelly, letting go of your hold on his hair to clasp his face. 

eddie re-emerges, licking his lips like a cat that got the cream. self-satisfied and completely smug. 

coming up to rest his chin on your heaving stomach with inquisitive eyes, his rough stubble catching on your tired skin, “worth the wait?” as if he doesn’t already know the answer. 

you nod, rather enthusiastically, “definitely worth it,” playing with the tufts of hair that make up his choppy bangs. 

“good,” biting down onto his bottom lip just to pull himself back up, “but i’m not done with you yet,” prying your legs open once more before peeling his shirt from his body, a sight you’ve seen and yet can’t behold. 

eddie presses his already stiff cock to your cunt, toying with his prey. there’s nothing left in you to fight it, laying back on the couch with a soft sigh. 

no man would ever live up to this, you were now cursed to an unsatisfactory life with whomever you settled for. 

his pants come off next, your eyes falling to the outline of his length immediately. eyeing the tiny dark patch and certainly not thinking about him cumming in his pants while eating your pussy. 

you’ve seen his cock, and yet, your lips still fall open when he tucks his boxers underneath his balls, fisting his throbbing piece while you go googly-eyed. 

“shit,” he remarks, one hand on your knee while the other glides his leaking tip through your slick folds. “no one’s ever been this wet f’me before,” practically purring, his tone thick and full of an animalistic need you had thought was only reserved for porn. 

the pleasure rumbles around your nervous system, only to land in your stomach, squeezing the already-snapped muscle once again. 

eddie’s hand slides from your knee, up to your thigh, giving your hip a well-meaning pinch before settling beside your head on the couch. your bodies melding into one as he comes down to meet you. 

his cock nestles in between once more, slipping inside with a harsh gasp and a visceral grunt. you settle for a grip of his taut shoulders, fingers curling around the muscles and smudgy black tattoos. 

this time, eddie buries his face into your neck, suckling at the soft skin, daring to leave his mark when his teeth come out to graze. you hope they last forever, marked by him for eternity. 

the sensation is all too much, struggling to stay afloat once more, pushed further and further to edge when his tongue swipes over the violet markings that littered your collarbone. 

“holy fuck princess,” he grumbles, partially muffled, “y’gonna cum again already?” breathing heavy and stuttered, struggling with his own premature orgasm. 

words don’t appear, and honestly, at this point they didn’t mean a thing. 

instead, you nod, squeezing his shoulder in a bid to communicate. you unravel all over again, drawn out moans that get cut off by his lips, thighs shaking around his midriff. 

eddie was drinking it all in, intercepting the sweet noises from your mouth with his own, rolling his hips at a more subdued pace as you cum again. 

you were spent, utterly exhausted though he doesn’t let up. once you’re over this climax, his rhythm finds pace again. soft palm caressing your cheek while his lips attach to your jaw bone, planting a hundred quick kisses along up to your ear. 

with one knee dug into the couch, the other leg holding him up from the floor, it couldn’t be very comfortable for him like this. your pleasure was first and foremost his priority, a real man. 

he grunts, driving into your cunt with little consideration for the creaky old couch or your neighbours just trying to enjoy their saturday evening. 

“oh god eddie,” you cry. tugging at his scalp, pathetically rutting back against his hips begging for your third? fourth? orgasm to take over. 

his carefully groomed pubes catch your clit, dampened by the sheer amount of your arousal. 

you were just about ready to sleep for forty days and forty nights, both exhausted and overstimulated by his cock, the weight of his body on top of you and smooth words flowing from his mouth. 

“one more sweetheart,” speaking between rugged grunts, panting with every sloppy stroke, “gimme one more,” he coos, hand sliding down to find your clit for the last time. 

his cock twitches inside when you buck back against him, fingernails leaving harsh strips on his back, leaving your mark for the next girl. 

“shitshitshit,” you rush, coming completely undone again, trembling around his cock, babbling what must sound like pure nonsense to eddie. no doubt letting all of your deepest secrets loose in your third moment of weakness.

“mhm that’s it,” letting his cock slide all the way out, just to reach the hilt over and over again. “inside?” was all he needed to huff for you to get the message, too incoherent to ask any further questions. 

“ye-yes please,” not quite understanding the weight of your words until they leave your mouth. a problem for tomorrow. 

with that, eddie topples over, his orgasm rippling through his limbs and his cock pumping thick ropes of his release inside your exhausted pussy. your cries intertwining in the hot air to create a chorus line of pleasure. 

“jesusfuckingchrist,” he heaves, collapsing in a fit of exhaustion. a sticky pile of limbs that starts with you and ends somewhere with eddie. 

everything feels surreal, the light is gleaming and you sort of feel as if you’re floating, watching him pepper your skin with quick kisses and slot himself comfortably on the cramped couch. 

eddie cradles your body, fixing your top to give you back the tiniest bit of dignity you had left. 

he hums, contemplating something, “‘m glad you called,” swooning, “i don’t know what i’d have done if you hadn’t,” positioning himself underneath your body, a strong arm coming to wrap around your shaking shoulder. 

“you would’ve just had to live without me,” chuckling into the sweaty skin of his chest, embracing the lingering arrogance. 

eddie hums before shaking his head, “nuhuh, we would’ve met again somehow,” running his finger up and down the length of your arm. 

“oh, you think?”

“no, i know,” oozing with confidence. you simply can’t hate it because he’s right. 

there’s no instance that your soul would’ve let you rest until this had happened.

[dekariosclan]

I’d love your thoughts on the gale romance endings like your thoughts on the proposal and the romance endings eg going back to waterdeep or going adventuring - thanks 💕💕

Note: This was the perfect Valentine’s Day ask! It’s uhh now the day after Valentine’s Day, but I did write most of this ON Valentine’s Day, so we’re going to say it still counts 💜

Anon, thank you for setting me up so perfectly to gush about Gale’s romance endings! Here is everything I love about them:

I love the whole entire proposal scene

I love that Gale is so down bad for Tav that he can’t even wait until their Hundur sauce dinner date before he proposes

I love Gale being so excited he wakes up first and just lies there thinking about marrying Tav

I love this part:

I love how, back when they were in the Stormshore Tabernacle to meet Mystra, Gale says he’s always wondered ‘what it’s like to be nervous’, and then when he proposes to Tav the dev notes say this:

(I also love how even the dev got nervous and misspelled ‘proposing’ as ‘promosing’)

I love the fact that Gale’s proposal isn’t polished & practiced & smooth, but instead, heartfelt and genuine and imperfect and sweet

I love the way Gale melts with relief when Tav says yes

I love how the romance goes full circle from this:

To this:

I love that they didn’t end the scene with Gale down on one knee, but instead ended it with Gale and Tav standing equal to one another

I love that Gale’s proposal remains 99% the same if Tav is an Illithid

I love that when Illithid Tav questions whether Gale really wants to marry them in their present condition, Gale replies: “Your ‘present condition’ is that you’re the one I love,” and he absolutely 100% means it

I love Gale’s entire epilogue dialogue

I love that Gale will happily stay in Baldur’s Gate to help rebuild, or go adventuring to other places, or start a book club in the Underdark, or go to Avernus, and no matter where he goes he’s happy because he’s with his beloved:

I love how if Gale and Tav go back to Waterdeep, Gale gets to be a Professor of Illusion and he adores it

I love how even as an esteemed Blackstaff Professor he still gets involved in (or directly causes) various wizarding shenanigans

I love how Gale is still a little bit insecure:

AND a more confident flirt:

I love Gale’s kiss and nose boop SO MUCH

To summarize: I absolutely freaking love the proposal and romance endings and everything about them

And YES OF COURSE I love Tara I could never forget that!

[essycogany]

Sonic And Amy Are A Unique Couple

This is a quick Sonamy rant /ramble session. With a few added clarifications too. Enjoy!

This couple is more unique than you’d think. It’s cool if anyone disagrees. I'm all for a polite debate and respect your opinion. But if you're willing to hear me out, I'll be willing to explain myself as clearly as possible. Great? Awesome! Let’s get started!

Amy doesn't want to change Sonic. I will scream this until I'm not able to speak any more that Amy loves Sonic for who he is. She always has but it wasn't until IDW that she expressed it out loud. Still one of my favorite moments between them.

Does that make their relationship unique? Not really. What makes their relationship unique is what Amy loves about Sonic is kind of the reason they're not a couple yet. Sonic is an ongoing force that can’t be stopped or changed. Of course, he’ll allow someone to join him on a race, but he still keeps going. Not to say Sonic won’t stop to smell the roses (pun not intended) but he’ll do it on his own time. Amy always likes to take advantage of those moments and best of all, Sonic doesn’t mind. Even during their old chases, he’d slow down for her. Says a lot about the connection they have but there’s more

Their chemistry is…something for lack of a better term. Their back and forth is so interesting to me. Sonic does like Amy back. Notable examples here but to put it shortly, Sonic doesn’t know what he’s doing when it comes to romance. Sometimes he’s not into it and other times he’s chill. Sometimes Amy is ecstatic and other times she's bashful. I'm looking at you Sonic X.

Every time Amy’s occupied, is when Sonic wants her the most. Amy on the other hand wants Sonic to enjoy his freedom. Neither of them stops to think about how maybe they can have it both ways.

I'll also mention romance isn’t about “being tied down.” That paints romance as if it’s some kind of chain being rapt around your neck or being forced to be with the person. That is not romance. It’s keeping someone hostage. Something Amy would not do. Every time she’d joke around about marrying him Sonic didn’t take it seriously. Heroes included.

Sonic’s line in Heros: “Amy, knock it off. There's no time to play!” Dude knows Amy was messing with him. She was written to be girly, childish, adventurous, and cartoony. No, it wasn’t always executed well. Hello, Sonic Freeriders Amy! But I think this scene summons it up the best.

Important thing to mention as well is Sonic is an outspoken and honest character who rarely lies. It’s either you get the truth or you get nothing. He’s not the type to spare people’s feelings either, so if he had a problem with Amy in the past, he’d tell her directly. I do think she'd also stop if he genuinely told her to. The last thing Amy would want is to tarnish their friendship because of her actions. This loyal girl is so sweet.

Not to mention this is a popular trope in Japan too. The trope was what their relationship was based on.

Back to my original point Sonic and Amy aren’t a traditional couple. That’s a good thing. If they became canon their relationship wouldn’t change if they got together, but also they don’t need labels either. Romance isn’t or shouldn’t be a burden on you. That’s not how love works and that’s not what Sonic believes Amy to be. If that’s the case he wouldn’t be friends with her. Whether you ship Sonic with Amy, someone else, or no one, there should be no doubt Sonic values her friendship.

I’ll also add that Amy is just as up for an adventure as Sonic is. It’s why she loves him so much. They’re a power couple and love going out to travel, so there’s no staying in one place for these two.

In Sonic Adventure 2 you can tell Amy’s intuition when it comes to Sonic. Close to the end, she saw him looking a bit down and noticed his mood shifting a bit. “What’s the matter, Sonic?” “Oh, it’s nothing.” She knows him so well. I don't know what connection they run on but it’s inspiring.

These two don’t have a typical girl/boy relationship. I know some people say, “Well, why can't Sonic and Amy stay friends? Not every male and female relationship needs to be romantic.” You're 100% correct. Here are some examples.

The difference between other relationships is that Amy was created to be a Minnie to Sonic’s Mickey. Which is why these two are treated differently compared to others. Including in merch. There are more examples but I digress. The point is this specific pair is always going to have nuance even if they’re only friends. It doesn’t stop until Amy doesn’t love Sonic and even if it shouldn’t define her, it should still be a part of her. She might work without romance, but we already have other amazing female characters for that.

No one’s obligated to ship them because of this of course. Again, your opinion is still valid, and I will always stick to that point.

Last but not least is their friendship (or situationship) as a whole.

The funny thing is their friendship is what makes their romance the most compelling. The appeal to Sonic and Amy’s dynamic is how much platonic energy they have. Romance doesn’t always mean you need to be lovey-dovey. With Sonamy it’s their powerful friendship that makes the (somewhat not platonic) interactions memorable. You don’t have to choose romantic or platonic. It can be both. I wouldn't be a Sonamy fan if I didn't think their relationship was plain. I'm here because of how different they are.

And I love them to bits. Look at this panel and tell me it isn't running with situationship fuel.

Another fun detail is in recent years despite knowing Amy still loves him, Sonic hugs her back. Even the moments in Sonic X he carries her are moments he offers to. Even when it wasn't necessary.

Can’t forget about the recent asking Amy out to a dinner panel in IDW. He's never done that before. There's a familiarity between the two of them however you look at it. I LOVE them for it.

His moments of genuinely being excited to see her are not due to some development but because Sonic’s passion for Amy has noticeably increased. Why am I bringing these up? It’s because one thing that hasn’t been talked about when it comes to romance is actions. Sure, Sonic doesn't fully confess his feelings to her outwardly. But why do you have to be obvious and in people’s face when it comes to loving someone? In Japan, love is mostly shown through what you do more than what you say. That stuff can happen there but it doesn't always have to. The “Sharing an Umbrella, Amy,” line in Frontiers carries a lot more weight when you think about the implications.

Please read this post by @egalitarian-tomboy if you're interested in the implications of Sonamy in Frontiers.

The up-to-interpretation view of whatever they have together is the main reason I and so many people ship them. It’s not the fact that they are close, but the progression of their closeness. To make a long story short, the appeal of Sonamy is the fact that they don’t have to be traditionally romantic to be an interesting couple. Amy represents expressive love and Sonic represents emotional love.

Stay creative! 💜

[cherrycheolkat]

• random slutty CUTE thoughts - seungcheol •

the valentine’s day one with clumsy cheol

seungcheol has big plans for valentine’s day, but everything seems to be going wrong - he just wants to make it the best valentine’s day you’ve ever had, no matter what

seungcheol had plans for your valentine’s day evening - he planned the food, the jewelry, the flowers, literally everything PLANNED

but now he’s lying on his back in a hospital bed because he tripped in the bathroom - he wasn’t even showering - he just slipped and whacked his head on the tile and maybe got woozy when he saw some blood

it was so embarrassing, literally everything about tonight was supposed to be sexy

but when you come into the hospital room, worried and squishing his cheeks, asking if he’s ’okay’ and ‘what can you do’ - all he can think is how you’re so cute when you’re worried about him, cooing over him and petting him, calling him ‘baby’ and kissing his forehead - he certainly doesn’t hate it

plus, he’s usually the one who’s protective, but you’re kind of scary when the nurses can’t answer basic questions, like whether it’s a serious head injury or a mild concussion

he’s annoyed when the doctor says he needs to stay the night because he can literally imagine everything he planned sitting at home and going to waste, but at least they say you can stay the night too

you had planned for that, of course, and already brought some extra clothes for yourself and for him, plus a tablet full of downloaded shows and movies and the pillow he likes and an extra blanket

it’s funny to him how a few things from home and having you curled against him make a hospital room seem almost homey

he’s almost okay with things, but also he isn’t at all - tonight was important - he had been waiting to tell you something and this wasn’t the romantic evening he had planned

but when you lean up to kiss him, your warm lips pressing to his, he immediately feels all the warm, quivering feelings you always make him feel - he loves those feelings dearly

you lean back slowly, smoothing his hair and staring at him quietly for a few moments, he returns your gaze, adoring the gentle way you look at him, like he’s someone truly special to you

you lean down again, kissing his cheek softly, “you’re so sweet for planning everything,” you whisper

he flushes slightly, “you weren’t supposed to see that,” he whines

you just smile, “but i did and it was so perfect” —

he stops you, “i know, but then i fell and ruined everything”

you shake your head, “you didn’t ruin anything, cheol,” you assures him, “it’s just a special story we can tell everyone one day,” she smiles, “the day i realized i was completely in love with you,” you kiss him again, lingering for a moment before pulling back

his eyes were large, “i was supposed to confess today!” he whined again

you laugh softly, “so go ahead then - it’s not like we can’t realize it the same day”

he shakes his head, “no, i’ve known - i just wanted to tell you today so it’s romantic…special,” he pouted

you nod, “ah, so you wanted it to be memorable when you told me?” you giggle, “there’s nothing memorable about today, i guess”

he knew you were joking, but he still sulked, and you press closer, “cheol,” you stroke his cheek, “really, i mean it, i love you,” you whisper, “just you,” you press another kiss to his cheek

“maybe i’ll pick another romantic day,” he exaggerated his pouting, making you laugh softly

you nuzzle close, “at least i told you as soon as i knew how i felt”

he sighs, “i knew at christmas when you picked the matching necklaces and refused anything else they had”

she laughed, “that? can it be something else?”

“no - it’s just when i knew you were really the person i love,” he strokes your cheek

you smile, “i guess it’s okay then”

he rolls his eyes, “i love you too,” he finally confesses

you nuzzle closer, enjoying his warmth, “i love you more”

he swats your arm gently, “i’m injured, let me win,” he pouts

you grin, “of course you win, my perfect cheol”

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

a/n: i just wanted something cute for cheollie

♡ kat

if you want to be tagged, go [here] my [master list] if you want to read more

[aciddrattboyy]

Wԋҽɳ Yσυ Mҽʂʂ Wιƚԋ Lσʋҽ

┆ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ - "your boyfriend arrives late for your study date and things(sex) happen"

ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛꜱ: ★ Starring: Mark Grayson x F! Reader ★ Run Time: 3.9k ★ Genre/Warnings: [Rated R: Drama/Rom/Adult Film] smut, both reader and mark lose their virginities, fingering(f!receiving), vanilla sex tbh, there will be eventual angst, set in au where they are in college before... (gulp) chicago incident, two part story ★ soundtrack: karma police, basta ya ★ pls pls pls any invincible fans HIT MY LINE i have no friends in this fandom and i desperately need them ★ 01 . 02 .

⋆｡°✩

noon. you invited mark over to your dorm at noon. it was three o’clock now, with no text messages or calls from your boyfriend; even after he assured you he’d be there about four hours earlier. mark had been… distant. constantly ditching you, not even showing up to dates or hangouts, or asking for rain checks if he had the decency to do even that. today was supposed to be a typical study date, with exams coming up you thought it would be nice. because even though mark left you hanging seemingly more often than not, the time he was there was, well, amazing. when he did manage to find the time for you he treated you like you were the best thing that ever happened to him, acted as the perfect, doting boyfriend. whether it was picking up your favorite food without asking or buying you a plushie of your favorite animal you didn't even remember telling him about, mark was loving.

but as the minutes ticked by, your phone continued being pathetically dry, and your dorm mark-less, you were starting to think maybe the good no longer outweighed the bad. with a sigh, you push back in your desk chair, slumping in the seat as you tipped your head back. you glanced over at your phone sitting atop a pile of books, almost mocking you with the lack of notifications, and thought about texting mark. again. dragging a hand down your face, you began to spin slowly in your chair, watching the room swirl by out of boredom. 

as you spun lazily, you could see your door slowly opening. and then there was mark, peeking his face through the crack, sporting that same guilty expression you were starting to think you saw more than him smiling. you plant your feet on the ground, coming to a halt as you looked at him with narrowed eyes and a frown. 

“if your excuse is you had to help your dad with work, lost track of time, or ‘had something to take care of’, save your breath,” you turn back to your desk, staring at the open textbook with your jaw clenched and brows pinched together. mark grimaced at your words, his hand twitching hesitantly on the doorknob, not sure if he should even come inside.

“alright no excuses,” he murmured softly, scratching at his nape as he stared at your back. sheepishly, he held up a plastic bag, the contents inside rustling softly. “but… how about an apology? starting with some food from that place you said you wanted to try?” mark’s voice had a hopeful lilt to it, although he knew he couldn’t keep fixing everything with food. he was entirely sure he’s been fixing anything at all, like a bandaid on a broken bone. but he also couldn’t exactly say: “sorry for being late to our study date. i promise i wanted to be here but my alien space dad made me go train with him since i just got super cool powers.”  it wouldn't be a secret identity if he started telling people. and unfortunately, people included you, no matter how much he didn’t want it to be this way. 

your glare aimed at your text book softened at his words, once again he had gone out of his way for you. acting as if he cared for you even as he was constantly blowing you off. a few quiet moments of you contemplating what to do pass by before you speak, turning in your chair slightly to look at him. 

“i guess that’s not a completely bad start.” marks face immediately lit up like an excited puppy as you spoke. it wasn’t a hard get the fuck out of my room and that was as good of a start as any when trying to make up for his major fuck ups. without missing a beat, he steps inside, closing the door behind him before toeing off his shoes, dropping his backpack near the foot of your bed and making his way over to you.  

“i uh got you a little bit of everything- well not everything everything but y’know a reasonable amount of-”

“thank you mark,” you cut him off quietly, not entirely sure how mad at him you still were. you take the bag from him, not able to meet his eyes as you set the bag down on your now limited desk space. mark stood somewhere to the side behind you, shoving his hands in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels.

“yeah, yeah no problem,” his voice cracked slightly and he winced at his own tone, feeling helpless and not at all sure how to really fix this without coming clean about his secret identity; something he could not do. the silence seems to drag on as you looked through the different containers. his eyes trailed over your desk and a fresh wave of guilt washed over him when he the notes scribbled into a notebook. “you.. um you got a lot of work done,” mark said awkwardly, grasping at straws to try to fix what he was rapidly breaking between you two. 

“yeah well it would’ve been easier if you had been here to help.” both of you freeze at your words that came out just a bit more harsh than you intended. mark frowned, not sure what to say. he reached out a hand, hovering it over your shoulder as he slowly opened his mouth. but you sighed before he can get anything out, running a hand through your hair before you turn in your chair to face with a faint frown of your own. “look, i’m sorry for talking to you like that. let’s just eat yeah? i’ve done enough studying for the both of us” you offer mark a small smile, one that he returns hesitantly. he takes a step back when you get up from your chair, grabbing the bed and heading over to your bed. 

“yeah that… sounds good.” mark nods, following you over to the bed. he sits next to you, mirroring your cross legged posture with his back leaning against the wall. he slowly scoots closer as you pull out the various containers until your knees are touching. you didn’t acknowledge it, but you didn't pull away and that was as good of a win as any. his eyes light up with an idea before leaning over the edge of the bed to grab his laptop. “thought we could watch something while we ate.” he offers softly, already turning on youtube and putting on the type of videos he remembered you telling him you watched sometime in the past. you nod at him softly, your smile growing both in size and genuineness just a bit.

“good thinking,” you respond softly, the anger already subsiding just from being with him. mark had a way of making you feel good, even if it wasn't for long, even if he upset you more often than you’d really like. you knew deep down he was still a good guy, and you desperately wanted to see him be better. wanted to see him start living up to his apologies.

the two of you eat in a somewhat comfortable silence, interrupted by laughs or brief commentary on what you were watching. and everything starts to feel normal again. for you, but also for mark. for just right now he wasn’t Invincible. he was mark grayson, a freshman in college with the more amazing girlfriend by his side. it felt nice to feel normal again, even if he had been waiting his whole life to get powers, to be just like his dad. you find yourself curled up against mark’s side, watching random videos with your head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped loosely around your waist. the sun was starting to set, the fading sunlight casting shadows and warm orange light through the blinds. 

when you tilt your head to look up at mark, he meets your gaze. his lips slowly pull into a goofy smile that makes you huff with amusement.

“why’re you looking at me like that?” you murmur playfully while tracing idle shapes over the fabric covering his chest. he pulls you closer, the movement almost imperceptible as his expression turns warm.

“you’re just so pretty,” mark answered just as softly, getting lost in your eyes with a stupid smile. only a second passes before he realizes what he’s said; his eyes widen, face flushing red as he sputters out apologies while trying to pull away. “oh shit that was so stupid- fuck im sorr-” before mark could run away and hide, you grab his face and pull him into a kiss. he lets out a muffled noise of surprise, eyes wide before his brain catches up to what was happening. then he’s humming softly instead, hands finding your waist as he kissed you back gently. “wha… what was that for?” he whispered breathlessly when you pulled away, your faces only inches apart. 

“am i not allowed to kiss my boyfriend?” you ask teasingly, smile only growing as your swipe your thumbs over his cheeks.

“no- i mean yes- uh yeah you can kiss me,” he lets out an almost self deprecating laugh, hands squeezing your waist gently. “i’m fucking this up aren’t i?” you pull him into another kiss, languidly moving your lips against his.

“i think you’re doing just fine,” your fingers tangle in mark’s hair, deepening the kiss, starting it off slow, gentle, but one thing led to another and soon enough you’re pulling him closer as you fall back against the sheets. mark follows you willingly, hovering over you with his hands on either side of your head. one of mark’s legs slot in between yours, involuntarily pressing his knee against the apex of your thighs. you gasp softly against his lips, grip tightening in his hair. when you roll your hips, a shudder runs through both you and mark when he realized what you were doing. the revelation only served to send blood straight to his already semi-hard dick.  

the kissing grows frenzied, the air between you heavy with harsh panting and even messier kissing. your laptop had been precariously moved out of the way and onto the corner of your desk. both of your shirts? thrown god knows where. was this all happening just a bit too fast? maybe… probably… definitely. but slowing down seemed to be the last thing on your mind along with mark’s. who was now practically buzzing with nervous excitement and lust. he’d kissed you before, many times actually. but never like this. never half clothed and making out with you as if you were trying to eat each other’s faces off while you ground your hips against his knee.

shifting slightly, mark props himself up on his elbow, body pressing more firmly on top of yours. he smooths his free hand up your waist, hesitantly thumbing over the hem of your bra as he waited for some sort of signal to stop. but none came, in fact, he could feel your back slightly arch into his touch. he let out a low groan, muffled by your lips, the obvious tent in his sweats pressed snuggly against your thigh. for a brief moment he thought maybe he should be embarrassed. but how could he when you seemed to just as affected. and somehow a lot more confident… with a gasp, and much reluctance, mark pulls his mouth off of yours, panting heavily against your lips.

“have you uh… y’know… before?” his voice was barely a whisper, face feeling hot and eyes slightly widened as he looked down at you.

“no…” you start, your voice equally as quiet as you prop yourself up on your elbows. “is it that obvious?” your brows twitched, just barely pinching together with a hint of worry and newfound self consciousness. 

“no- no no!” mark quickly squeaks out, shaking his head with wide eyes. “i just- you seem so- so…” he trails off, not entirely sure what to say anymore.

“we don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to. do you want to stop?” your voice was soft, a small smile on your face in hopes of making sure mark knew his comfort was important above all. but it only served to make mark feel more… feel more of whatever was making his stomach flip and his cock twitch against your thigh in a way that was getting harder to ignore. he swallowed the lump in his throat when thought about what ‘keep going’ would actually entail. 

“um… no. not really,” he murmured softly, a sheepish smile on his face. he feels his face heat up all over again at the admission. but before he can doubt himself, you’re smiling at him. and then you were kissing him, and it was like you had never even stopped at all. 

the kissing quickly grows heated, hands fumbling to rip each others pants off through breathless giggles and sloppy kisses until mark was seated between your open legs; both of you in nothing but your underwear and your bra long gone. mark smoothed his hands over your inner thighs, chest still somewhat heaving from the rather heavy makeout session just moments ago. he swallowed thickly, thumbs tracing over the lacy edges of your panties. his head snaps up when he hears a small noise leave your lips. the kind of noise that has his body going hot all over again.

“can i…?” mark wasn’t sure what he was exactly asking permission for. but the way you were looking up at him made him pray to any existing god that he was granted the sexual prowess of a veteran pornstar just for tonight. upon seeing you nod your head, he sucks in a deep breath, feeling both a wave of arousal and anxiousness. with shaky hands, he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and slowly pulls them off of you. looking at your naked body, mark was afraid he’d bust right then and there. but then your voice, soft and playful, cut through his thoughts currently being led by his dick. 

“c’mere,” you reach out, tugging on his hand and pulling him closer until he was hovering over you again. the backs of your thighs resting atop of his, the bulge in his boxers not too far from your pussy. you could tell he was a little nervous. and although you never got verbal confirmation, it was clear to see that mark was a virgin; somehow more a virgin than even you were. you card a hand in the hair at his nape, pulling him into a kiss that seemed to make mark relax just a bit. kissing was good. kissing was familiar territory. and after a small while, you placed your free hand on top of his hand not supporting his weight and slowly inch his palm downwards. 

marks breath hitched in his throat, body temporarily going still. that is until he felt how fucking wet you were as you guided his middle and ring finger through your soaked folds. a guttural groan vibrates through his chest, only barely muffled by your tongue in his mouth. 

you were panting against his lips now, soft mewls escaping you led his fingers to circle your clit. teaching him what you liked, how you wanted to be touched. and to mark’s credit, he was a very fast learner. soon enough he was moving on his own, your hand holding onto his wrist instead as he pumped two fingers inside of you. he ground his palm against your clit, making your hips buck into his hand as the pleasure just kept building. 

“o-oh fuck-” you cry out when he hits that sensitive spot inside you, arms wrapping around his neck as you nuzzle your face against the sensitive skin just below his jaw. if it were not for the string of muffled moans leaving your lips, even mark was able to tell you were getting close almost embarrassingly fast by the way your thighs trembled against his and how your hips snapped up to meet each thrust of his fingers. “fuck- fuck ‘m gonna- hah-” 

mark felt like he was almost there with you; he could feel the damp patch on his boxers growing as his dick continued to throb in it’s confines, leaking a lot of precum. his hips twitched involuntarily, searching for some sort of relief. but he would continue to push his own wants aside, breathing heavily through his nose as he peppered your collarbone with wet kisses and focused solely on making you cum. and that he did. biting back a moan of his own at the feeling of your walls clenching around his fingers, your whole body going taut under him as you held onto him tighter. 

after a few moments filled with only heavy breathing, your body goes limp against the sheets as he pulls his fingers out with a soft squelch. there was a very satisfied smile on your face as you looked up at mark, who somehow looked more fucked out than you. 

“you were… surprisingly good at that.”

“ha, thanks… hey, wait what do you mean surprisingly?” you giggle softly at the small pout on his lips, lifting your head just enough to press a kiss against his lips.

“don’t think about it too much,” you mumble as you pull back, trailing your hands down his sides until your palms met the waistband of his boxers. “uh there’s condoms in the drawer if you…” you trail off, eyes widening when you realized what you had just implicated. “i- i didn’t buy them they were uh- a gift from my roommate a while ago…” you look up at mark with narrowed eyes after seeing the way his lips were pursed, twitching with the force he had to use to keep himself from smiling. for now, mark would bite his tongue, not wanting to face your wrath when his dick was so hard it was starting to hurt. 

“condoms. got it.” the words were strained under the weight of his stifled laughter, but before you could comment on it, he was already leaning over you. rummaging through your night stand, he was able to pull one out, settling between your legs with the gold foil in his hands. “but are you sure you want to do this?” there was a hint of vulnerability in his tone, sounding almost worried that you’d regret being with him, or you were for some reason only doing this out of pity. but then you were giving him that warm smile and nodding your head, and suddenly all doubt jumped out the window. 

through more muted laughter and clumsy, inexperienced hands, the two of you manage to get the condom on without mark blowing his load then and there. placing his hands on your hips, he leans down to kiss your lips, rubbing soft circles on your skin with his thumbs. you hum into his lips, gently holding onto his biceps as you kiss him back just as passionately. but when mark reaches a hand between your bodies to line his tip with your hole, the energy shifts. less playful and more so intense, romantic. like the both of you realize what you were doing, and what it means for the relationship going forward. 

“are you sure?” mark whispers against your lips, eyes fluttering open to gauge your reaction.

“yeah, yeah i am,” you breathe out, eyes shining with something that made mark’s stomach flip in an almost scarily good way. he nods, adams apple bobbing before he presses his lips against yours again. he snakes his free hand up the bed, intertwining his fingers with yours above your head as his hips slowly push forward. it takes a little while of patience and whispering sweet nothings to each other before the two of you are comfortable enough for mark to start moving, the whole situation intense for both of you in a way that was both exciting and a little nerve wracking. 

“h-holy fuck-” mark’s voice comes out as a shaky pant, head hanging as he looked down at where your bodies met. his hand in your squeezes gently, the other holding onto your hip as he slowly rolls his hips; pulling out until only the tip was inside before slowly pushing back. “feel s’good,” he groans softly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he continued to slowly fuck into your wet heat. his hand leaves your hips, entwining his with yours and pinning you to the mattress. you bite your lip, muffling the whimpers and moans spilling from your mouth. squeezing his hands tightly, you tilt your head when you feel mark starting to suck and nip at the skin of your neck

“y-you can- nngh- go faster,” your breathy words do not fall on deaf ears. mark’s whole body stills for just a second before slightly readjusts on top of you. the moment he quickens his pace, both of you are turning into moaning messes. kissing sloppily and exchanging spit as the cheap bedframe rocks slowly with mark’s movement. he lets go of one of your hands, reaching down to rub messy circles on your clit with the pad of his thumb.

it didn’t take long for mark to get close, hips already stuttering as he teetered on the edge as your cunt fluttered and clenched around him. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling any and all embarrassing noises that leaves his lips. your hips buck up to meet his with each thrust, thighs shaking with your own impending orgasm. your nails rake down his back in a way that has mark groaning against your skin.

intense orgasms hit you both at the same time; mark’s thighs trembling right along yours as his hips jerkily buck his dick inside you until he spilled every last drop into the condom. collapsing on top of you, the room is silent save for heavy breaths and the smell of sex. after a few moments, mark presses a soft kiss to your jaw before slowly pulling out and flopping onto his back next to you with a content sigh after tossing the condom into the trash bin under your desk. 

“that was…”  mark turns on his side, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling your back flush against his warm chest. nuzzling his face against your hair. “was… amazing,”  he murmured softly, voice full of bliss as he held you tight. you giggle softly, letting your body melt into his warm embrace. at some point, you both clean up; with shrugging on a shirt and underwear and mark slipping back into his sweatpants. cuddling up under your sheets, it was easy to fall asleep in his arms, perfectly content and feeling loved.

i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very appreciated <3 ʟᴏʙʙʏ ﹕ꜰɪʟᴍᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

[gilbertscurls]

just friends (until we’re not) — matt sturniolo

ONE ── just friends

part two

You didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. That was your first mistake.

It wasn’t supposed to mean anything, not really. You and Matt had been best friends forever, and Valentine’s Day had never been your thing. It was just another day, just another excuse for people to buy overpriced chocolates and awkwardly confess their feelings. You had never really cared for it.

But this year was different.

This year, you found yourself hesitating before sending a text. You had already typed it out, deleted it, typed it again, and stared at your phone like it held the answers to the universe. It was just Matt. Your Matt. The same Matt who once got his foot stuck in a trash can in fifth grade. The same Matt who always split his fries with you without asking. The same Matt who never let you walk home alone, no matter how late it was.

So why did this feel so terrifying?

You took a deep breath, steadied your fingers, and finally sent the message.

You: Hey, wanna hang out today?

It took approximately three seconds for the typing bubbles to appear.

Matt: Obviously. Your place or mine?

You rolled your eyes. Classic Matt. Always acting like it was that easy. Like this wasn’t a potential turning point in your entire relationship.

You: Yours. Be there in 20.

Your heart was pounding, and you hated it. You were supposed to be cool about this. Chill. Unaffected. Not some lovesick idiot who had spent an embarrassing amount of time debating whether to wear the sweater he once complimented or something more casual. (You picked the sweater. Obviously.)

By the time you arrived at Matt’s place, you had given yourself at least three pep talks. This wasn’t a date. This was just another day hanging out with your best friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

And then Matt opened the door, and all of your internal speeches flew out the window.

Because he was standing there, barefoot, in a hoodie that looked way too soft, his hair a little messy like he had just run his hands through it, and he was smiling at you like he was genuinely happy to see you. Like this was the best part of his day.

You suddenly forgot how to function.

"Hey," he said, stepping aside to let you in.

"Hey," you managed to say, pretending like your entire body hadn’t just short-circuited.

You followed him into the living room, where he had already set up a movie, blankets thrown haphazardly across the couch. There was an open bag of your favorite chips on the table, and you could smell the faint hint of popcorn in the air.

"You did all this already?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Matt shrugged, flopping onto the couch like it was no big deal. "Yeah, figured we’d just chill."

You sat down beside him, trying not to overthink the way your knee brushed against his. "You’re not secretly taking this whole Valentine’s Day thing seriously, are you?"

He scoffed, grabbing a handful of popcorn. "Please. You know me. I don’t do all that corny love stuff."

"Right," you said, ignoring the way your stomach twisted at his words. "Me neither."

The movie started, and for a while, everything felt normal. Easy. You laughed at the same stupid jokes, stole food off each other’s plates, and bickered about whether or not pineapple belonged on pizza.

But at some point, the space between you got smaller.

You weren’t sure when it happened, exactly. Maybe it was when you leaned against him, just slightly. Maybe it was when he draped a blanket over both of you without thinking. Maybe it was when your head rested against his shoulder, and he didn’t move away.

Whatever it was, you could feel the shift in the air. It was almost electric, this quiet tension crackling between you. And yet, neither of you did anything about it.

Because that was the problem, wasn’t it?

You were best friends.

You didn’t risk that. You didn’t just throw something like that away for a crush that could ruin everything.

Except… what if it wasn’t just a crush?

What if it was more?

The thought sent a shiver down your spine, and you weren’t sure if it was from fear or something else entirely.

Then, as if the universe itself was trying to mock you, a particularly cheesy romantic scene played out on the screen. The classic best-friends-to-lovers confession. The longing gazes. The almost-kiss.

You could feel Matt tense beside you. You didn’t dare look at him.

"God, that’s so unrealistic," you blurted out, desperate to break the silence. "No one actually does that in real life."

Matt let out a short laugh. "Yeah. Right. Totally."

But his voice was different.

Softer.

Like maybe he didn’t think it was so unrealistic after all.

Your heart was racing now, every nerve in your body on high alert. The moment felt heavy, charged with something unspoken.

And then Matt shifted slightly, his head tilting toward you, and you could feel his gaze on you. You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes locked on the screen.

Say something. Say anything.

But before you could, Matt let out a breath, forcing himself to relax against the couch. "So, uh… want more popcorn?"

And just like that, the moment passed.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Sure."

Matt got up, stretching as he walked toward the kitchen. And if he clenched his fists the whole way there, trying to shake off the way his heart was hammering in his chest, well… that was his problem.

Because, on the inside, he was jumping up and down, doing the cha-cha, and singing I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love in his head.

And that?

That was a much bigger problem.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim, @courta13, @frankdelreyy

[funnyjb]

hiii, I hope you’re doing great, could i request aJoe x fem reader where reader has pots and its a bad day for her and Joe just got back from a bad day at training, and she doesn’t want to add more preoccupations to he’s plate, so she doesn’t tell him that she’s been struggling all day with dizziness and all of that until it gets serious and he’s all worried. Love you stories btw🩷🩷

Hi of course!! Thank you🩷

……………………………………………………………………….

Today was the worst. You felt dizzy and even nauseous. You didn’t sleep well last night which didn’t help at all.

You kept having to stop in the middle of the work day to sit down. Whether that be on the floor or in your office chair. You couldn’t focus. You almost spilled your coffee on your white pants this morning from the shaking of your hands.

You couldn’t wait to go home.

Joe also didn’t have the best day. He just got back from the Panthers game after the win on Sunday. He obviously was happy about the win but his hand kept bothering him from how many times he fell on it. The meetings he had were long. His physical therapy wasn’t the greatest thing today and all he wanted was you.

You got home before Joe. Dropped you things down and headed upstairs then the dizziness hit again. You sat on the bed and tried to breathe. You couldn’t take it anymore. You felt your heart start to beat faster. Then the anxiety kicked in.

“Babe?” - joe called from downstairs

No answer.

Joe saw your car so he knew you were home.

He headed into the bedroom.

“Y/n-”- Joe

He ran over to you.

“Hey, hey look at me.”- Joe squatted down to be at eye level

“Y/n, I’m right here. Breathe in and out with me.”- joe

Joe guided you. In and out. In and out.

“Good.”- Joe

You had tears running down your face. Your heart rate was going back to normal. You still felt shaky and a little dizzy.

“I’m..I’m ok.”- you

“You’re not, y/n. You still look a little bit nauseous and your hands are still shaking.”- Joe

“I said I’m fine.”- you got up

Joe quickly bolted up.

“You’re not, y/n! Please sit back down.I want to get you some water.”- Joe

“You don’t need to Joe, I’m…I’m ok. You’ve dealt with enough today.”- you

“Y/n, just let me help you, please!”- Joe

You stood there

“Ok, let’s get you something to eat and drink. Stay here.”- Joe

He lead you back to the bed.

“I’ll be back.”- Joe

He left.

After a couple minutes he came back. He was holding a plate of fruits and some water.

“Here, take this.”- joe

You were sitting on the edge of the bed. Knees tucked to your chest.

“Thank you.”- you

Joe sat next to you as you took the plate.

You took some bites from the strawberry’s and bananas.

Joe pulled a strand of hair away from your face.

“You don’t have to be afraid to let me in. I’m your boyfriend. Let me help you. I want to help you even on a really shitty day or on an amazing day. You don’t need to go through this alone.”- Joe

You looked at him.

You nod.

“Thank you. Truly.”- you gave a small smile

“I had the worst day today.”- you say picking up a grape

“I was so dizzy and tired. I couldn’t even focus. I just wanted to come home. I..I just hate this. I hate it.”- You

“I’m so sorry. I know it sucks. But we will figure out a plan. A plan to help. Ok?”- Joe

You nod.

Joe gives you a kiss on the head

“I love you.”- Joe

“I love you too.”- You

Joe then steals a strawberry.

“Hey!”- you

Joe laughs

“I just wanted to come home to you. I didn’t have a great day either.”- Joe

“Oh, I’m sorry. What happened?”- You

Joe goes on to tell you about his day. These are the moments you cherish. Even when he is telling you about how bad his day was and you feel horrible that he had such a day, but you feel grateful that you get to have these moments. The moments when you aren’t worried about getting dizzy or fatigued. The only thing that matters is being able to have these laughs with someone who you love more than anything. More than life itself. You’re grateful to have someone like him. Someone who gets you. Who sees you. Joe also loves you then anything or anyone in this universe. You feel like home to him. He hates seeing you like this. Hates it. He knows it sucks but he also knows that you are strong and brave to get through anything. He loves you and you love him.

…………………….

After a couple weeks Joe starts to get more worried. You start to have more bad days and sleepless nights.

You were on the couch taking a nap.

Joe was getting dinner ready for the both of you in the kitchen when his phone rang.

“Hey, mom.”- Joe whispered

“Hey, honey! Everything ok?”- Robin

Joe didn’t say anything for a second. Then a tear came down his cheek.

“I..hate seeing her like this. She’s not sleeping and is getting dizzy and fatigued. I just wish there were more ways I could help.”- Joe

“Aw, Joey. Having you by her side is all she needs. She is strong. Just keep an eye on her and see if you can check her heart rate on your phone through an app.”- Robin

“Yeah, that’s a good idea mom. Thank you.”- Joe

“Of course. I love you.”- Robin

“Love you too.”- Joe

He hangs up.

He brings over the plate of food to you.

He runs his hands through your hair to wake you up.

“Here baby. Have something to eat.”- Joe

You sat up.

“Thank you.”- You

“You’re welcome.”- Joe

Joe sits next to you

“Just eat up and then we can cuddle.”- Joe

You dig into your food while watching the office.

As the weeks go on you start to get into a routine. Managing your heart rate and what you eat. Joe gets to check your heart rate on his phone now. Which means getting a text every 20 minutes.

You ok?

How do you feel?

Drink some water.

Please go sit down baby

You liked the gesture. Knowing he’s taking care of you.

You know everything will be ok if you have Joe by your side.

[maraudersilver]

My Valentine (James Potter x Fem!Reader)

James Potter x Fem!Reader

wc: +3,4K

cw: fluff, mentions of sex (no smut), corniness.

Summary: When the reader leaves her workplace in a fuss of a certain Friday, Sirius Black offers to give her a ride without mentioned James’ Valentine plans.

Back at Hogwarts, Fridays felt renewing, a sense of freedom etched into the nippy breeze of the castle’s gardens as the students roamed around the many secret passages. Some snogging, others finishing the last details of a party, some hanging out with friends, and very few stuck at the library to study whatever subject was making their life miserable.

You loved it. Every single moment of your life in Hogwarts was ingrained in fond memories in your mind. It didn’t matter the O.W.L.S or the N.E.W.T.s, if you had the chance, you would do everything all over again.

However, once in real life, adulting through many different jobs and a rent to pay, Fridays had become an excuse to loaf on the couch and rethink all of your decisions up until then. You would still go for a couple jars with your friends and boyfriend from time to time, yet the lack of energy and the built up tiredness of an endless week always left you drained. 

That’s why when Sirius Black presented himself at your workplace on a Friday, you almost snarled at him. It had been a hideous day. Everything that could go wrong went wrong and you didn’t have time to eat anything during your break, not that you had had a break anyway. Alas, you just wanted to arrive home and rot in your couch while you debated whether life was worth it or not. 

“Nice to see you, too.” Sirius rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest while he leaned on his bike.

“What are you doing here?” you asked tiredly, trundling towards the handsome man.

“Thought you’d need some fresh air.” He shrugged his shoulders, his characteristic crooked smile making its way onto his face.

You shook your head, sighing tiredly. “What I need is to make my way to bedfordshire.”

“Fun, aren’t you?”

“Fuck you.”

Sirius just chuckled, which made your skin crawl. In any other situation, you would have been thrilled to see your friend. However, you weren’t in the mood for his unabashed teasing. 

“Claws in, princess. C’mon, I’ll give you a ride,” Sirius said, pointing to his bike with his head. Although, an old couple that was strolling just next to him snapped their heads in alarm and scandal at his words. 

“Well done, Black. Scaring our elders,” you grumbled, your eyes drifting from the staggering couple back to the dishy man before you, who had grabbed a helmet for you. Somewhat miffed, you put on the helmet he was offering you before mounting the bike, your chest pressed to his back. There was no point in fighting Sirius, too wayward to accept a ‘no’ for an answer. “Where are we going anyway?”

“Don’t spoil the surprise.” Sirius grabbed the handlebars and a clamorous snore started the bike.

“Is James there or some- AHH!” 

You gripped Sirius’ waist as tightly as you could as he accelerated the bike, turning it invisible before lifting it onto the air. It didn’t matter how many times you had ridden with him, your stomach still churned funnily. 

Your surroundings were blurred, the only neat thing being Sirius’ covered in leather back. What you supposed were trees and roofs passed before the corners of your eyes in undefined shapes and uncoloured forms. Time lost its purpose, hidden in the haze of your mind after you stopped counting the seconds it took the bike to land. You considered begging Sirius to stop, yet your voice was stuck in the knot that had formed on your throat to thwart your breakfast from spilling all over London. 

After your self-perceived eternity, Sirius lowered the bike to the nearest road. It took everything in you to not splatter all over the asphalt, your head dizzy and limbs numb. If you had any strength left, you were to be chained in Azkaban for the murder of the Black family heir. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” Sirius cackled, hoisting you by the waist after a misled step. “James gonna think you’re hammered. Aren’t you overkilling ‘t a bit?”

“You’re-” you took a deep breath, gasping at the lack of oxygen in your system. “You’re t-the fucking w-worst.”

“That’s the best you can do?” Sirius howled in laughter again, placing one of his arms around your waist to saunter who-knows-where.

You gave him a pointed look. “I’ll fu-cking kill y-you.”

“I’m so scared,” he mocked.

It took you a little while to get your head back on its place, Sirius never letting go of you. Your eyes drifted to the foliage that encompassed the horizon, the peaks of the trees impending over the mystical lake. Everything was colourful, tones pink and orange as the sun hid behind the ivy-like bushes at the far point of your sight. You wished James was there to witness it with you.

All the stress and back pain was left behind, only solemnity and enchantment on your countenance. You could feel Sirius’ heavy stare on you, still forcing you to keep walking over the softened grass. By the feeling of it, it had rained the day before.

“This isn’t London,” you observed dumbly, cheeks warm when Sirius scoffed.

“No way, Sherlock.”

“Where are we?” your gaze chased the many details composing the picture of the valley, searching for the man you actually wanted to be with.

“Always so eager.” Sirius' voice was laced with mocked flirting, finally stopping before a wooden cottage that somehow you had missed in your first inspection.

“Is this where you murder me and they never find my body?”

Sirius laughed mirthlessly. “Hilarious. C’mon, go in.”

You had already climbed a couple of stairs but, at his words, you pinched your brows and looked back at him. “Aren’t you coming?”

“I’ve been suggesting your boyfriend a threesome for donkey’s years, but I don’t think today’s the day, hot stuff.”

You ignored his unabashed confession, although your belly flipped against your will, and rolled your eyes. “Is James there, then?”

Sirius placed his hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket, and he blew a couple of rebellious dark tufts away from where they had fallen before his sculptured face. The wind was waving his hair like a wave tide, so smooth you ached to twist your fingers on it. You had to seriously consider the threesome offer with James. “That’s for you to discover. I was just your ride, not your confidant,” Sirius offered you a cheshire smirk. “Although, maybe another time, you could ride my d-”

“Okay, okay, I’ll go in. Thanks, Sirius!” you bursted out, and the last thing you heard before closing the door behind you was his melodic laugh. 

You sighed in relief, you were sure you wouldn’t have survived any more teasing, any less before his scrutinized stare. Suddenly, the smell of just-baked muffins hit your nostrils, and your mouth watered involuntarily like a pavlovian experiment. 

Following its trail, you paddled around the wooden floors, any survival instinct forgotten in the back of your mind, the only thing present was the need to taste those goods. You missed the hanging t-shirt from the door next to the kitchen, and the scattered shoes all over the flatweave rug in the living room. 

Cooking on the stove was the burly, naked back of your very much dishy boyfriend. Now in the kitchen, the pleasant smell of the sweets mixed with the salty one of whatever he was stewing. You observed the muscles of his back, contracting at his every move, and if your mouth was already watering, now you were drooling like a horndog. The light of the sun drew patterns in his body, illuminating his tanned skin in orange hues, like liquid gold. And the grey sweatpants hang lowly on his hips; your head was light and not from the motorbike ride exactly. 

Sensing your burning stare, James turned around and his mouth stretched in a saccharine smile, so bright it overshadowed the sunset painting the sky outside the window. His eyes wrinkled by the corners, irises gleaming at the sight of you. Your heart fluttered, and the butterflies in your stomach flew violently. It didn’t matter how many times you had witnessed this sight, it always made your knees wobble. 

In a fussy, you pranced towards his awaiting arms, opened just for you. “My darling,” he said, voice laced in honey, brushing his head on your hair, sniffling lightly much to your embarrassment and amusement. “Did you have a good ride? I know how Sirius can be.”

You hummed, hiding your face in the crook of his neck and soaking on his natural scent: warm, sandalwood, cologne. You roamed your hands absentmindedly over his back, feeling him up but feigning innocence at his snort. “Hectic,” James snickered, reverberating in his chest against your own. “He’s a prick. But it wasn’t that bad. Not if I get to have you like this.”

“Aww, aren’t you a sweetheart,” James cooed, his palms caressing up and down your back softly. “Or a perv, if your hands have any say in this.”

“You just had to ruin the moment,” you groaned, and James laughed again, kissing the top of your head in apology.

“You can feel me up as much as you want, my love. My body’s yours.” 

You wanted to groan again, he was so corny your cheeks must be scorching against his shoulder and neck, yet the tingling of your fingertips and the drumming beating of your heart proved you wrong. 

Pulling your head away from your hidden haven, albeit reluctantly, you looked up at him again. James had this thing where his eyes alone showed the very deep of his soul even behind his glasses, and the caring light pouring out of his irises had your head turning and whirling. Damn, you were very much in love with him.

“Where are we?” you asked once your hazed mind walked out of the fog enough to realize you still didn’t know the place, and you scouted your surroundings once more.

James’ eyes followed your motion and his smile stretched even more if it was even possible. “I may or may not have rented this cottage for a romantic weekend.”

Your heart did a flip, and you were sure you were looking back at James with as much passion and adoration as he was. If he didn’t know by now how besotted you were, the proof laid before him. “James,” you said, voice soft and whispery, conveying what words could not say.

“I take it that you like it.” His grin grew impossibly wide. He leaned down, about to kiss your lips, but the squelching sound coming from behind him made him gasp and drop you from his warm hold, much to your sorrow. “Sorry, my love, this is why I couldn’t go get you myself. I wanted to cook you a nice dinner,” he giggled nervously.

Upon his sudden sheepishness, you cooed and hugged him from behind, your arms surrounding his waist and palms pressed against his toned abs. “That’s so considerate, Jamie.” You kissed his shoulder blade, goosebumps forming on his skin much to your delight, and then you placed your head against the spot you had just shown love to. “What are you cooking?”

“Surprise!” 

“James, I can smell the muffins,” you deadpanned.

You could imagine the childish pout forming on his lips, and you got confirmation when he spoke again, tone muffled by his pursed lips. “Then I’ll give you another dessert.”

You snorted, nuzzling your cheek against his soft back. “Oh, yeah? You’ll have time to bake another dessert?”

“No need to elaborate it much, darling. You sitting on my face is my favourite meal after all.”

Your cheeks were ablaze, a pulsing heat setting between your legs. Undeterred by your timid countenance, he snickered, turning around to hoist you from your waist and sit you on the counter, positioning himself between your legs.

The bespectacled man roamed his honeyed eyes all over your body, gnawing at his lower lip menacingly. “You know.” His finger teased the collar of your working shirt, fiddling with the first button, and you felt yourself gulping. “Maybe we could skip dinner after all. I’m hungry for something else,” he drawled, sounding drunk in the lust emanating from his body.

You considered it, though there was not much to ponder about. Your hot, sexy boyfriend was offering you an evening of fun and who were you to refuse? Just when you were about to agree, half lidded eyes focused on his pretty face, your stomach rumbled, the sound almighty in comparison to the quiet tranquility of the cottage. James blinked twice, looking bemused, until comprehension hit him like a gunshot and he beamed, face brightening in streams of laughter so ablaze you felt like the sun was setting you on fire.

Much to your embarrassment, James nuzzled his nose against yours, all previous promise of pleasure forgotten in his teasing gaze. “At least my efforts won’t go to waste,” he snickered, pecking your lips in ample adoration, a wide smile still stretching his mouth. His askew, curly hair tickled your forehead, sending you into a fit of giggles. “You set the table while I finish this up?” he asked, voice sugarcoated. 

You nodded, bounding down from the counter with his help. You scouted around the kitchen in search of plates, serviettes, cutlery and wine glasses, quite lost in the new environment with a very different setting compared to your own kitchen. After opening the fifth, marbled cabinet, you finally found the round plates James had asked you for, and little by little you set the table under the humming tune your boyfriend was entrancing you with, his low voice drumming violently in your chest. 

Considering it finished, you went back to James shirtless form, who was plating an enticing beef stew, covered in what seemed to be blackberry compote. What surprised you the most was the lack of magic use in the whole process. James had really outdone himself.

“All done?” you asked, placing a comforting hand on his right bicep, hoping he didn’t see through your act of touching for the sake of touching.

“Uh-ha.” His tongue was sticking out the corner of his mouth, teeth gently biting down in concentration. “Finished! C´mon, sit down, I’ll bring the food.” You opened your mouth to complain, but he lifted a single finger against your lips, smiling menacingly at you. “Nah-ah-ah, love. Let me pamper you, yeah? For me?” They should really carry out a study of how fast this man went from unabashed to puppy -stag?- eyes, a throbbing pout drawn on his gorgeous facade that melted you from inside out. When you sighed in defeat, his characteristic smile made its way back to his lips. “Atta girl.”

Warmth bursted from the pit of your stomach, flowing like a fluent river to the rest of your body. If he continued like that, dinner wouldn’t be what you sucked into your mouth the following minutes. 

With a slight stumble, you made your way to the table by the dinning room. Now that you had time, you took the chance to observe in thoroughness the cottage you had entered without paying much attention to it. The walls were composed of rounded, dark wood, giving path to pointed and high, wooden ceilings, from where simple and rustic lamps hung and lighted the room in dim brightness. They reminded you of James, always so warm and dazzling. The hearth by the couch thawed out the chilling atmosphere from the outside world, gleaming cozily and drawing patterns on the cushion of the sofa, back to the wall in front of it. 

Then, James jigged down the corridor with two plates in hand, placing them leisurely on yours and James seats, him sitting in front of you. With a flicker of his wand, two red candles appeared on the table, and the lamps turned off, the room only lit by the romantic fire of the red wax. 

“Wow.” To say you were gobsmacked would be an understatement, and you suppressed a smile at the contrast of the elegant dinner against your still very shirtless man. “What’s all the romance for? I mean, I’m not complaining,” you quickly said, raising your hands and signaling at nothing in particular. “But why today?”

James chuckled, hiding behind one of his hands much to your disappointment. His smile should be hung on all the walls of a museum. “Can’t a man spoil his Valentine rotten?” The flickering light of the candles reflected on his glasses, giving his teasing stare a more mischievous contenance. 

You blinked, taken off guard. Valentine? It couldn’t be Valentine’s Day already, could it? Your brain worked in rumination, scavenging for the date on the calendar. That week you had two meetings, a report to deliver, grocery shopping on Wednesday… Oh. There was a pink, huge circle around the 14th on the calendar in your kitchen, marked by you, which only made the matter worse. How could you have forgotten it?

At your decimated expression, James chuckled again, the legs of his chair lugging against the wooden floor. “Aww, c’mere, lovey.”

Without much thought, you pranced towards his open arms. James took your hands and sat you in his lap, staring down at you with so much love your breath stuck in your lungs. Unable to do much more at the moment, your mind hazy and body numb, you passed your arms around his shoulders and pecked his cheek repeatedly. His chest reverberated in giggles much to your pleasure. “Happy Valentines, Jamie,” you murmured against his mouth, lazily kissing him. He hummed in appreciation, returning the kiss with the same loiter. 

His glasses pressed uncomfortably against your cheek, though you didn’t mind. There was nothing in the world you loved more than him, and his lips were enticing enough to fight the slight pricking of his metal frames. 

Your fingers intertwined with his curls, while the other hand caressed mildly the nape of his neck. His hands, however, were roaming your body like a starved man, proving so when he deepened the kiss, tilting his head more to the right. Your breathings were erratic, his tongue asking for permission, and you opened your mouth willingly. Both your tongues danced in your mouth, his exploring the warmth of yours as if he had never been graced entrance before. It was wet, passionate and so overwhelming.

Pulling away slightly, James looked at you with half-lidded eyes, a string of saliva still connecting you both. His glasses were lopsided from the make out session, and his dark curls askew, giving him a lovesick countenance. “Let’s do something,” he purred, and your heat pulsed. “We’ll finish dinner; then we take a romantic, warm bath to the candlelights; and then you let me eat you for dessert. Sounds good?”

“Sounds perfect,” you sighed breathlessly, kissing him urgently once more. Your left hand caressed the three-day stubble growing in his cheeks and jaw, and his hands squeezed your hips.

A daunting feeling crested from your stomach to your chest, settling on your heart. James was yours. The realization of it, even if you had known for years, only increased the tide of love ripples turning into waves crashing against your feelings. “I love you, James.” It was sincere, and the jaunty smile James gifted you, eyes filled with adoration, was proof of the sentiment.

“I love you, too, my love.”

It was a magical night, to say the least. James fulfilled his promise and you ended up witnessing sunset in his arms, your bodies naked against each other, only covered by a thin blanket while the sun rose in technicolour lights brushing the cristaline water by the lake. 

The rest of the weekend was spent undertaking water activities such as paddling in a boat, swimming and splashing, and making love by the shore in the solitude and romance of the woods. 

By the time you had to leave the cottage and go back home, long forgotten was the awful day at work and the stress of mundane life. All you had in your mind and heart was James and your love for him. Although, deep inside you had a fishbone stabbed for having forgotten Valentine’s Day. However, James didn’t seem to mind as he walked you into the warmth of your shared haven, his arm lazily propped over your shoulder in a protective stand. 

Late at night, both of you cuddled up on the sofa, a book left behind in your lap. It was then that your conversation with Sirius that Friday afternoon came back to you. James turned in alarm at your gasp, raising his brows in expectation.

“Can we have a threesome with Sirius?”

James’ mouth hung half-open, his brows now narrowing in confusion. “What!?”

[ddodol]

who knew — h.sh

series ⭑.ᐟ [ kinktober masterlist ] content warning ⭑.ᐟ smut! minors dni!, lawyer!seunghan, prosecutor fem!reader, pet names, femdom?, quick and messy, unprotected car sex, overstimulation. word count⭑.ᐟ 1.9k+

a/n; last seunghan fic for now :((

you hated losing in court.

your sense of justice wasn’t what drove you to do anything and everything to get that verdict, it was for a far more simple reason— you didn’t want to give the opposing lawyer, hong seunghan, the satisfaction of winning.

you disliked how he always had the perfect rebuttal for your arguments, as if he knew what was going on in your mind. you wanted nothing more than to wipe off that smug smirk on his face as he walks back to his table, leaving you fuming from having your logic blown wide open. likewise, you find yourself challenging the evidences he presents to the court— anything to get him scrambling.

by the time the verdict was announced, you were completely out of it to the point where you couldn’t even remember if you lost. you now had other things in mind, and that included bringing an end to the building tension the only way you two knew how.

you dragged him to the parking lot, snatching away his keys and quickly pushing him towards the backseat, an action that made him chuckle.

seunghan loved how eager you were, an adorable frown and a serious expression on your face as you pushed and pulled him around like a ragdoll. unlike yourself, seunghan didn't care whether he lost or won. all that mattered to him was whatever happens later.

”fuck, white lingerie underneath all of that is just unfair,” seunghan grumbles, eyes going wide in appreciation as you popped a few buttons open for him, revealing a white lacy lingerie that hugged your body perfectly.

you straddled him as soon as he sat down, hands gripping on your hips appreciatively. you were always such a sight that he loved seeing you walking back to your table whenever your objection gets overruled.

you smiled teasingly, “like it? guess i’m not taking it off tonight, then.” seunghan bites back a smile, amused by your attitude. even though others never understood why, seunghan always loved arguing with you. in a way, it was his way of showing how much he likes you, possibly even more than he ever thought.

”i don’t expect you to, baby,” he chuckles, breath hitching in his throat when you began to grind on him. “do i get to ruin your stockings or is that off-limits as well?” he asked breathlessly, mesmerized with the way you were moving as his fingers gripped on your thighs. even the thin layer of your stockings couldn't stop him from leaving marks of his hand on your skin.

”tell me, what was the verdict again?”

seunghan groaned, throwing his head back against the headrest when you pressed down on his erection. the combination of your softness and the pressure you were applying was enough to get him panting, the tightness of his pants doing little to relieve any discomfort. “guilty.” it was amusing how hard he already was, almost as if he was looking forward to this.

you hummed, leaning in to trail kisses down his exposed neck. “exactly. i won this time, so you should sit back and take it. you’ll let me do that, right?” you whispered, sultry voice sending shivers down his spine. your hands worked through his clothes, ripping his shirt open as you left kisses down his chest. you enjoyed how restrained seunghan was, listening to you so obediently.

his fair skin was fully flushed by the time you undid his pants, erection springing up against your stomach, making it known how desperate he was getting. you gripped his cock, using your hand to spread his leaking precum all over his shaft while your thumb teased the sensitive underside of his tip.

seunghan let out shaky breaths, cock throbbing in your hand as you continued to apply more pressure, hand moving even faster. you stared down at his length, gasping softly at how defined his erect cock was. a small whimper escaped your lips, brows furrowing as you remember just how well his cock would fill you up, the curved shaft hitting a spot no one else had before that just made your head spin.

”baby, your hand feels so good i could just—” seunghan let out a loud groan, hips jerking up sensitively when your hand stopped moving. his eyes snapped open, meeting your mischievous and equally dazed gaze.

”not yet,” you leaned in to position yourself over his length, holding on his shoulder to support your weight as you shifted around on top of him. seunghan whimpered softly, hands trembling against your waist as you lowered your hips down until the rough fabric of your lingerie brushed against his sensitive tip.

he swears he has more self-control than this, but something about seeing you on top of him with your hands all over him makes him go insane. seunghan jerked up subconsciously, bottom lip all red and bruised from how hard he’s been biting down on it. seunghan hissed, nails digging into your skin when you pressed down even more. you could only smile in amusement at the frown on his handsome and usually cocky face, “you remember how this works, don’t you?”

you used your finger to trace his features, a sigh escaping his lips. he shuddered at your touch, capturing your finger with his plump bottom lip as he stared into your eyes. seunghan knew the consequences of losing and, frankly, he’s not one to complain— it made no difference after all, not to him at least.

“use me for your pleasure, baby.” his deep, breathy voice echoed in the small space, shivers running down your spine.

your face split into a huge grin, using your free hand to push your panties to the side. his cock slipped inside too easily, the tip of his cock completely covered in precum.

you let out a soft moan, brows furrowing as you sat on his cock. you could feel him reaching deep inside, throbbing against your slick walls. it didn’t take long until you began to move, rolling your hips as you bounced shallowly, letting him knock against your deepest walls repeatedly.

seunghan knew how much you liked being in control, his fists balled up at the sides as each movement drove him crazy. he panted softly, murmuring small curses under his breath. his eyes raked over your figure, watching in amusement at how you seemed to be enjoying yourself.

your moans got louder with each bounce, thighs tensing up slightly as you picked up the pace. god, it was all music to his ears— the sight of such a beautiful and well-composed lady losing herself on top of his cock was such a high praise that seunghan couldn’t help but jerk his hips up in response, earning an even louder whimper from your pretty lips.

”fuck— god, fuck!” you cried out, leaning forward as his hips snapped more forcefully, your body starting to feel weak from the intense pleasure. seunghan chuckles breathlessly against your ear, a soft, shaky moan escaping his lips when your walls clenched down on his length in response.

he could tell how eager you were today for some reason, even surprising him with pretty lingerie which he couldn’t get his eyes off of. seunghan glanced at you, too drunk with pleasure that you surely wouldn’t notice his wandering hands. he turned his head to the side, pressing soft kisses against your exposed neck.

”baby, look at you,” he cooed, sharp eyes staring at your flushed face. your once perfect hairstyle was now all messy, strands sticking to your sweaty skin, eyes unfocused, and your red lipstick smeared. what a sight; seunghan’s cock throbbed at the thought of being the only one to see you like this, the only one to get you like this.

”that’s it, baby. you like riding my cock that much?” he murmurs, enjoying the way your brows furrowed paired with that helpless expression you had on. “like it when it hits deep inside? your hips are moving on its own, did you know that?” seunghan teased lightly, aware that he wouldn’t get much reaction from you whenever you were in this state.

you cried against his neck, gripping tightly on his shoulders as you felt your body tensing up. you let out shaky breaths, your climax approaching fast along with your walls clenching down uncontrollably on his cock. seunghan groaned against your ear, pressing soft kisses on your neck as he whispered sweetly into your ear.

”i got you, y/n. go on, let it all out for me.”

with a sharp cry, your walls clamped down on his throbbing length. his thick cum filling up your walls, your lower stomach bulging slightly from the sheer volume of his seed. seunghan panted softly, letting out a weak chuckle at your trembling state. adorable, was all he could think of— glossy lips quivering and your voice all hoarse from crying out.

the small space you shared was getting warm, bodies melting against each other as your breathing began to even out. seunghan held your body, humming softly at the silence you both shared. “satisfied?” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, nuzzling his lips against your flushed skin.

you let out a weak hum in response, earning a giggle from him. you felt lightheaded after you came down from your high, pulling away slightly to look into his eyes. seunghan had a smug look on his face, the same smile he has whenever you two were in court, one that always irked you.

you pushed him weakly, thighs still trembling in spite of your annoyed expression. he laughs softly, watching as you got off of him. seunghan’s eyes flickered down, noticing his release dripping down your inner thighs, making his slightly erect cock throb at the sight. he watched you carefully, the question on his mind becoming too apparent.

you couldn’t help but chuckle as you buttoned up your shirt, his downturned lips becoming even more downturned as he watched you clean yourself up. “so, where are you bringing me next?” your question broke the deafening silence, seunghan’s eyes going wide at the implication.

”well?” you could almost hear the gears in his brain turning, the corners of your lips curling up in amusement as he tried to stammer out a response. “if you don’t decide in five seconds, i’m leaving.” an empty threat was all it was, you couldn’t even muster the strength to stand up, not after that.

”my place,” seunghan almost threw the words out of his mouth, too giddy to play coy at this time. you laughed at the blush creeping up his already flushed skin, turning even redder the harder you laughed.

you let out a soft sigh, resting your body against his shoulder. “give me a few minutes and then we can leave,” you mumbled, eyes already closing as the fatigue from preparing for the trial and your earlier exchange finally caught up to you.

seunghan pulled you closer to him, smiling contentedly. “anything you want, really,” he mumbles under his breath. “as long as you keep smiling at me like that, anything’s fine with me.”

[suzukiblu]

Day two of February’s third weekly WIP behind the cut; “interdimensional kidnapping via Robin”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon cries a lot harder; hard enough he clearly can’t talk past it, hard enough to shake with it, and like–he’s not a small kid, honestly. He’s the smallest that Tim’s ever seen a version of Kon, yes, but he’s pretty big for his physiological age. Which, like–not surprising that he would be, really. He’s definitely in the expected top percentile for a ten year-old, if not over the expected top percentile. Tim would put him somewhere between 4’10” and 5’ and at probably a good hundred pounds or so, which puts him maybe nine to seven inches shorter than Tim himself is and maybe, like, forty-five or fifty pounds lighter. So . . . about seventy percent of his own body weight, give or take. And Tim probably has a concussion and at least a couple broken ribs, and definitely has plenty of cuts and abrasions and bruises deep enough that he doesn’t even want to think about how long it’s going to be until he’s field-ready again. 

He doesn’t do goddamn Bat-level training to not be able to pick up and carry a crying kid no matter what condition he’s personally in, though.

Tim scoops Kon up into his arms and the kid makes a startled little noise about it that cracks through one of his sobs, then grabs the front of his suit just next to the “R” decal tight enough that the body armor creaks and buies his face in his neck to cry even harder. He doesn’t hold onto him any more than that, but he’s still as close to clinging to him as he can get. 

Well–no, his TTK is definitely clinging to him, whether his actual physical body is or not. 

Tim wonders exactly how many times this kid’s been held by someone–at least how many times that he remembers being held by someone, anyway–but all things considered is pretty sure he wants the answer to be “none”. If Luthor really is the only person that this version of Kon remembers ever having been touched by . . . 

Yeah. Tim definitely wants the answer to be “none”, ugly as that thought is. 

“S-sorry,” Kon gasps brokenly into his neck. “M’sorry, m’s-sorry, I d-don’t–I dunno why, I–I can’t s-s-stop, I–” 

“It’s alright, kid,” Tim says, and doesn’t let his voice get any tighter. Really, it’s impressive Kon didn’t fall apart sooner. Or . . . depressing, maybe. “I’m just gonna carry you for a bit now. Just tell me if you want down, okay?” 

“I don’t,” Kon sobs, his TTK going tight. “Don’t put me down, don’t–please.” 

“Okay,” Tim says, and fucking hates Lex Luthor. 

He walks the rest of the way to the marina with Kon curled up in his arms and crying into his neck; digging his fingers into his body armor and his TTK into all of his bruises. Tim might need to do some repairs on the armor later but is really not concerned about it right now. It’s just a footnote to take care of before he tries to go on patrol in this specific suit again, that’s all. It already needed some fixing up anyway, after spending seventy-six hours going through the wringer in a reality that shitty. 

Also, like, he guesses he needs some fixing up after that too, admittedly. 

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jay Kuo at The Status Kuo:

There was a bloodbath over at the Justice Department, signaling real trouble ahead for the Trump administration. In the first major challenge to Trump’s new Attorney General Pam Bondi, the resignation of acting U.S. Attorney Danielle Sassoon, a top prosecutor in the Southern District of New York, set off a chain reaction that has shaken the Justice Department to its core. The Department had been planning to drop all charges against New York City Mayor Eric Adams, who is facing federal corruption charges and possible new obstruction of justice charges. Lately, Adams has been working hard to curry favor with the Trump White House, and it looked like his efforts were about to pay off. Enter Sassoon, who was in charge of the Adams case. When she learned of the plan to dismiss all charges against Adams, she offered her resignation in a polite but damning letter. In it, she laid out why she could no longer in good faith work for the Department, which had put political considerations above the rule of law. Sassoon wasn’t the only lawyer to quit the Department yesterday. When it tried to hand the case to the Public Integrity Section in D.C., its top lawyers resigned, too, rather than dismiss the charges against Adams. Then more lawyers followed. By the end, six attorneys had quit, dealing a stunning blow to the administration. Normally we don’t get much of a view into the inner workings and politics of the Justice Department. They are usually quite tight lipped. But thanks to Sassoon, we now have a clear picture of what happened and why it’s so indicative not only of the corruption at the very top but also of the high levels of integrity throughout the rest of the Department.

[...] Bove’s main rationale for dismissing the case was a headspinner. He claimed the indictment “unduly restricted Mayor Adams’s ability to devote full attention and resources” to Trump’s efforts to crack down on migrants and had “improperly interfered” with Adams’s re-election campaign. (If that sounds familiar, it’s essentially Trump’s long-held rationale for why charges against him were a “witch hunt” designed to create “election interference.”) In other words, Bove provided only political justifications for dropping the charges, with no rationale related to the actual facts, evidence or law of the case. That memo made big news on Monday, and legal observers assumed, with a sinking feeling in our collective guts, that the matter was finished. Adams had played politics well, and Trump had bitten and apparently ordered his Justice Department to comply. [...] It’s important to know something about Sassoon’s political leanings. She’s a conservative, Federalist Society attorney who clerked for Justice Antonin Scalia. So this is not some progressive or liberal, though I have no doubt that the MAGA ghouls will try to paint her that way. She was the lawyer the Department picked to head the Southern District of New York, an office so important and so aboveboard that it’s often referred to as the Sovereign District of New York. [...]

Bove fires back

Bove is a real piece of work, and he wasn’t going to let things go quietly. Whether Bondi instructed him to answer or he took it upon himself to do so, his letter responding to Sassoon blasted her personally and her handling of the case, along with her decision not to obey a direct order. Bove didn’t just stop with her. He wrote that the other prosecutors on the case who had worked with her, and apparently supported her position, would be placed on administrative leave, too, for disobeying his command. He threatened them with an investigation by the AG and the Department’s internal investigative unit, both of which would also evaluate Sasson’s conduct, which could be taken as a veiled threat to bring bar disciplinary action. (Bove may want to think twice about this investigation now, as his own conduct might come under the microscope, and the judge overseeing the dismissal could demand some answers about what really went down.) The most telling part of the letter was where Bove placed fealty to the President above all other considerations, including Sasson’s oath to uphold the Constitution. “In no valid sense do you uphold the Constitution by disobeying direct orders implementing the policy of a duly elected President,” he wrote, “and anyone romanticizing that behavior does a disservice to the nature of this work and the public’s perception of our efforts.” [...]

The ensuing bloodbath

This is the point where things got really interesting. After Sassoon resigned, Bove sent the file over to the Public Integrity Section of the Justice Department in D.C. There, he expected that the heads of the Section, Kevin O. Driscoll and John Keller, would obey his order and dismiss the case. Instead, they resigned as well. Bove went to other lawyers down the line, including one who reportedly was in the hospital giving birth. The response was the same: We quit. In all, there were six resignations, including Sassoon’s. This is twice the number of people who were sacked when President Nixon ordered the firing of special prosecutor Archibald Cox, who was investigating Watergate. They had to go three officials down the line until they got to Robert Bork, who was unprincipled enough to order Cox’s firing. That series of dismissals became known as the “Saturday Night Massacre,” and it soured the public badly against Nixon who was clearly trying to obstruct the investigation. [...] Moreover, there is significant pressure now on New York Gov. Kathy Hochul to exercise her power to remove Adams from office, especially now that there is unrefuted evidence that Adams sought leniency in exchange for throwing migrants in New York under the bus and letting ICE have free rein, in contravention to the city’s existing policies. Indeed, shortly after Sassoon’s resignation on Thursday, following a meeting between Adams and Trump’s new border czar, Thomas Homan, Adams declared he would issue an order allowing ICE agents into the Rikers Island prison complex, signaling a stark departure from the city’s prior sanctuary status. Through all of this, one thing is now crystal clear: This story has gone from a local case of mayoral corruption to a stunning and significant national case of embarrassment for the Justice Department. The resistance to the behavior of top officials, explosively displayed by the mass resignations of top Department lawyers on Thursday, spells real trouble for Bove and Bondi as they seek to bend the entire DOJ to the will of the Trump White House.

Happy to see Danielle Sassoon stand up for the rule of law by refusing to cave in on the Trump DOJ demand to drop the charges against Eric Adams, along with at least 6-7 others who also refused to cave.

See Also:

Talking Feds (Harry Litman): Thursday Night Massacre

Campaign Trails (Kevin Kruse): The Thursday Afternoon Massacre

everyone is entitled to my own opinion (Jeff Tiedrich): prosecutors to Donny: fuck straight off, we’re not dropping Eric Adams’ charges

TPM: DOJ Enters The Darkest Period In Its Long History

[gumiegumie]

I just stumbled upon this fic… now my heart’s gone. /j

Even though I expected what would happen, it still broke my heart anyway when it DID happen. Unrequited love is something quite personal to me as I have gone through it before (0/10 experience, not recommended), so seeing that in the tag AND Izana at the same time? I couldn’t resist.

This is so beautifully done. Seriously. I’m in love with the pacing so bad. Not too fast, not too slow. Just right. It starts off slow at first, I can feel the hesitation and uncertainty from the protagonist. Love in general is already pure, but love when you’re still in school? When you don’t have any adult responsibilities? That’s the real definition of youthful pureness. It’s so… gentle, simple, delicate yet so genuine and innocent. This really reminds me of when I first had a crush in middle school.

The soft moments almost made me forget about the inevitable. Almost. Even though I prepared myself for it, the moment he broke it off with her so cruelly, I felt my heart breaking like hers too. Having your feelings, something you know for sure is real and true, thrown to the ground like some garbage, it really hurts. I know that from experience, and the thing is, it stays with you, whether you’ve moved on or not. Something like this doesn’t go away that easily even after years, and I’m so happy that you show that in the story. If you’re serious about love, then it’s most likely you won’t be able to forget it at all, no matter how hard you try to.

When they both met again, I was honestly waiting for the protagonist to burst into tears or something alike, but I’m glad she didn’t. You can tell that it still affects her, but she refuses to show it to Izana, wanting to be strong and move on from the past. I’m so happy for her honestly, and it makes me resonate with her even more because it’s true. Life goes on, the earth continues to move no matter what, so it’s best to just move on with life and try to make the best out of it. When Izana keeps up with his appearance, I was crossing my fingers for her to not fall for it, not yet at least. The pain he had caused was too big for some bouquets or any gifts to cover up. 3 months? That’s a pretty long time, maybe he is genuine this time? Who knows? Even at the end, I’m still not sure myself if he’s simply playing with her or is actually being serious about it. Maybe that’s why it’s a ‘semi-happy’ ending?

Again, this was such a wonderful read at 12 am. I love how you capture unrequited love and the ups and downs in romantic relationships. Look forward to more💜💜

You're no longer useful

Pairings: Izana Kurokawa x Fem reader x Manjiro Sano

cw: unrequited love, fluffangst that’ll turn into semi happy ending, slowburn, slightly pet names (kitty, good girl), izana being his own warning, manjiro only appears in the beginning and mid part (since its valentines, aint that heavy. do lmk if i missed sum thing, i don’t like tagging these things tbh)

author’s note: happy early valentines to whoever had come cross this fic, have a great day with your loved ones/friends !! i sorta miscalculated the day.

wc: 6k+

"Get lost, you're no longer of any use." A man dressed in black stood in front of a wide silver motorbike, he spat out a few words to you lightly. His eyes are on you, and it seems to look at a point in the void through you, deep and empty like a bottomless lake.

This moment, you think he’s really far away, after knowing him for so many days it seems like you’ve only seen his true side at this moment.

The night wind blew his barred earrings up, the bells are ringing softly in the wind. And you felt the sound as if it were a heavy punch, one blow to your heart.

How long does it take to fall from heaven to hell?

The answer is one second.

The man who gently carried you with beautiful words the last second, the next second he looked at you as if he was looking at garbage, told you to get lost.

"Okay, kitty. We have to say bye-bye," Izana smiles at you with a clear, bright smile. It's like the wind on a lake on an autumn night, "I'm not interested in you at all. However, I do like the fractured look on your face right now."

Half a month ago, you're outside the school by the street, you met Izana Kurokawa for the first time. At that time, the teenager was wearing a long grey trench coat. Peddling a super cool motorbike, parked under the tall trees outside the campus.

You wouldn't have noticed him. At most, it's just a few more glances. But the teenager's eyes fell on Mikey beside you, greeting him like an old, familiar friend of many years.

At that time, you were taking out the drinks you bought from your bag and handed them to Mikey, as well ‘got a good look’ from Izana. The other person looked at you carefully from head to toe with the kind of eyes that made your scalp tingle, then looks over at Mikey.

"Mikey, is this one of yours?"

Mikey took the water you handed him, unscrewed the bottle cap and took a mouthful of water. Then he looked at the teenager in front of him with little interest. "(name) is my friend."

Izana's interested gaze swept back and forth between you and Mikey, It seemed to be brooding darkly as if it had found something interesting. After seeing Mikey help you pat the dirt accidentally stained your skirt, a light flashed under his eyes, it seems that some decision has been made.

On the way back, you ask Mikey about the man who just appeared out of nowhere while eating a lollipop as if you weren't thinking. Mikey shoves the last bit of Taiyaki into his mouth and then suddenly turned around, he’s telling you this with the utmost seriousness. "That guy’s crazy. Ignore him."

"Oh." You're not sure why he'd say that, maybe that guy's dangerous. Being called crazy by Mikey, who is the head of the delinquents, seems to be a real problem.

After that, you quickly left Izana Kurokawa behind. There are so many attention grabbing things in middle school that you quickly forget about such a thing until he reappears in front of you.

"Hey, is your name (name)?" The teenager straddling the motorbike suddenly calls out to you, who is walking not far from the side of the road after school. "Can you do me a favour?"

You're carrying a small bag, thinking about what Mikey said. You wanted to ignore him, but it can't be helped that he calls out to you again and again. In order to avoid the astonished eyes of passers-by betting on you and him, you had to stop walking, turned around and walked a few steps away from him. Somewhat warily, you looked at him.

"What?"

Seeing your defensiveness against him, the teenager withdraws his hand from the motorbike's handlebars, the corners of his mouth quirking up as he looks over at you with a smirk on his face. "Phone, can I borrow it? Mine’s dead."

You look at him suspiciously, thinking about the situation after he takes your phone and runs away. But he didn't look like he would steal a girl's phone.

Seeing you lost in thought, the smile on the corners of the teenager's lips deepened, and there's a warmth in his eyes. "My motorbike broke down, it's just a matter of getting help with the tow truck." he seemed to think of something, he added again.

"Just take it and dial for me. I won't touch."

He's said it all, and it would be unreasonable of you to say no.

"It’s only for a moment, as soon as possible." Carefully approaching him, you took out your phone, typed in the number as he said, then dialled it and passed it to his ear.

Izana ambles down slightly, in order to accommodate your posture. He's still straddling the motorbike, only the right side of his body is bent down, close to your phone with cute pendants, it looks a little funny.

You resisted the urge to snigger as the teenager's wheat-coloured skin pressed against your phone, speaking quickly about things into the connected side of the phone. This way he was so close to you that the air currents from his breath brushed against your fingertips as he spoke and seemed to vibrate slightly.

You can't stop your cheeks from heating up a little, you’ve never been this close to a boy before. Especially if it's a boy you don't know very well …Mikey excluded, you know each other so well, having grown up together as neighbours, it's like you've forgotten that you're opposite sexes to each other.

After he explained the matter in a few words, his face appeared in front of your eyes under the cover of your phone. The violet eyes shone with a dazzling light at dusk, pulsing towards you. This close, you can clearly see the reflection under his eyes and the curve of his eyelashes.

Your hand is a little overwhelmed as you take the phone back, and you subconsciously step back slightly. "..All right."

Izana smiles at you. "You've done me a favour, I'll buy you an ice cream."

The teenager smiled a graceful and moving smile, as if an unknown magic was spreading around him. You grabbed your small bag as if to hide something, you said while moving away from him. "I’ve got things to do. No need, goodbye."

Walking quickly away from the teenager's figure, you use all the strength you wouldn't have used during the school to get out of the teenager's sight as quickly as possible. You didn't let out a long breath until you lost sight of him around the corner.

Only when you calm down do you feel like a fool. Why are you so afraid to run away?

"Scared her off, am I that scary?" Izana asked with a somewhat puzzled frown at the rushing Kakucho.

The man with a long, ghastly scar on his forehead looked at him and blinked before finally spitting out a sentence. "It's very spirited sometimes."

What kind of answer is that? It's a complete non-answer.

But it looks like it's going to take a little more work to snatch her from Mikey.

The next day after school, you saw Izana again. He rode his bike into your campus, just parked downstairs with such a big fanfare. Looking at the students coming and going, he seemed to be looking for something.

You sneak up to hid behind the taller students in front of you, thinking to yourself that he must be here for someone else, not you. Just when you're trying to sneak past your classmate's tall back by dodging his line of sight, a slap on your shoulder made you tremble with fear.

"(name), why are you walking curled up? Are you too tired for class?" you look at your best friend's face and feel the urge to throw her out.

Of course. Izana, who was not far away, noticed the commotion. Then his eyes lit up as if he'd finally found his target, the long legs stepped down from the bike and walked straight in your direction.

Your eyes are darting left and right, you try to get away from him quickly, but Izana moves fast, and within a few steps he's standing in front of you, blocking your way.

"Hello, we meet again." Izana greets you.

"Yeah, what a coincidence." you pull the corners of your mouth stiffly, saying things that sound stupid. Your best friend beside you stares at the teenager in front of you like she's found something amazing, then sneak up on you and whisper in your ear.

"(name), this boy is so handsome, is he your boyfriend? I really didn't expect you to .."

You're too busy covering your best friend's mouth and giggling at Izana. "I won’t bother you. I still have something to do with my friend, bye." with that said you tried to pull your best friend away, but Izana blocked your way forward as if he had expected it, he wasn't close enough, he just happened to be too close for you to make a smooth escape.

"I haven't thanked you for last time, I'll treat you a nice meal."

"No need, it's a small thing."

"There's a new poster in the comic book shop around the corner, want to see it?" Izana’s bright gaze looks at you as if he's certain you'll be interested.

"I wanna go too." Before you can say anything, the deadbeat beside you comes to attention.

"Sorry, my bike can only carry one person," Izana smiled and winked at your best friend, "I'll treat you next time."

As if picking up some signal, your friend laughed and agreed, then she patted you on the shoulder twice. Whispering in your ear, ‘Go for it’, then with a look of relief like a mother bird seeing her chick finally learn to forage, she walked away.

This girl, definitely misunderstood.

"Let's go. The bike's fixed, just in time to give you a lift." Izana smiles at you, his hand on the handlebars, the way he steps onto the bike with one long leg and stops beside you, waiting for you to sit on it.

In this case, you can no longer try to refuse, and the picture of a boy breaking into the campus and riding a super cool motorbike, waiting to be picked up in the crowd after class is undoubtedly super attractive to the attention of students. In order to avoid everyone missing out on going home for dinner because of the onlookers, you bite your lip and with a thousand apprehensions in your heart, you get into the back seat of Izana's motorbike.

The motorbike is styled with a slightly shorter front and a raised rear seat, so you pedalled and struggled a few times before you finally managed to climb up, and then accidentally flopped onto Izana's back in front of you.

Anxious to sit up straight from the man, you blush as if you hear his suppressed laughter. Is it that funny? It's just that the back seat of the motorbike is too high.

"Sit down, it's about to start." Izana slammed his foot on the pedal, the rumbling sound of start-up filled the eardrums, and then whooshed out. Like the wind, it glid deftly over the flow of people after school that had not yet dissipated, meandering and swimming through the sea like an elongated fish.

Your body leans back from inertia, and you squeal in terror as you grabbed the hem of Izana’s coat, pressing yourself closer to him. But, as if on purpose, Izana’s speed soared up quickly out of the school gates, and holding on to the hem of his coat was not enough to resist the force of the motorbike's rapid forward motion, so you reluctantly wrapped your arms around his waist.

Because of the high backseat, your legs are jammed right on either side of his waist, and your chin is forward, which can be easily to rest on his shoulders. However, because you are sitting in a boy’s motorbike that you are not familiar with, you didn't dare actually lean in, so you had to restrain yourself from hugging his waist and then try to keep yourself in a comfortable sitting position.

The bike arced from side to side through the evening crowds, Izana’s silver hair is blown up by the night wind, and his long earrings are occasionally blown into your face by the wind, it’s cool and fun.

You didn't say much along the way, but you felt excited, probably because it's really super cool to ride in a motorbike, much cooler and more exhilarating than riding in a four-wheeler, that feeling of being more directly in touch with the wind and the speed that comes from the machine.

The bike ends up parked outside a comic book shop, which is your favourite store. In addition to new comics, there are also a lot of old-timey comics that fill the not-so-luxuriously decorated shop. The side of the shop also sells some nifty peripherals, posters and stickers, and you'll often buy some of your favourites to take back with you.

When the bike stopped, Izana stepped down from the motorbike first. You looked at the ground where your toes couldn’t reach directly, when you were about to grab the seat of the bike and put your foot on the pedal, Izana leans towards you.

"Don’t move." Two simple words, and you dutifully did as you were told because you didn't know what he was trying to do. The man's body moved closer, and for a moment your body tensed and your mind went blank, frozen at a loss for words.

Warm palms encircled your waist and hugged you with a slight push, then let go before you could react. Your body was carried off the bike by him and placed firmly on the ground. The whole process was very short, it was over before your brain realized anything in a few seconds. By the time you came back to your senses, Izana had already stood outside the shop door and turned to look at you.

"What are you doing frozen there, stupid?"

As if waking up from a dream, you answered and walked towards the shop, blaming him for suddenly leaning over and hugging you, messing up your brain as if the warmth of his palm was still lingering around your waist, lingering.

You sit together in a comic book shop looking at the new comics, owned by an older man who doesn't mind students reading in the shop, as long as they don't break or dirty the books.

If you can't finish it and want to take it back to read, the shop also offers a rental service, so it's cool to put down a deposit and then pay a small amount to read a book full of books.

Sitting at the small round table, Izana leaned against the window, his long legs resting on one of the chair legs, originally indecent poses were pleasing to the eye when done by him, as if everything he did was flavourful and fascinating.

You sneak a peek at him through the cover of a comic book: Good looking indeed, with big bright eyes, sometimes looking at people with affection, super seductive. The earrings are special, never seen the style before, you don't know where he got them from. You've been to all the nearby shops that sell earrings and studs, and although you haven't had your ear pierced yet, you've been coveting beautiful earrings for a long time, and you just haven't had them pierced yet because you're afraid of the pain.

Oh yeah, and his hair is silver-white. Ever since you were a kid, you've been super into white hair and always thought it was cool and glamorous, probably because normally everyone’s hair is black and boring.

The teenager's eyes swept towards you from the edge of the comic book in your hand, and you were busy withdrawing your gaze, pretending to be reading the comic in front of you carefully, frowning in a thoughtful manner.

Izana walks up to you and ambles over to the small round table, looking at you in silence.

"What's wrong?" You ask him, blinking.

"Book, down." Izana reaches out and picks up the comic book in front of you with two fingers, then turns it around to display the cover in front of you.

The handsome man's upside down pose came into view, still handsome but, upside down.

"Actually," You look at the man whose eyes are looking at you with teasing eyes, the corners of your lips curving up in a warm smile, "I can read backwards, it's fun to make a game out of it sometimes."

"Oh, so," Izana nods his head slightly as if he’s discovered something new and exciting, and then shows you the page you're looking at, "This page only has pictures, no words."

Alas, you look at the superb close-up across the page in front of you with a bit of a smile on your face.

Luckily, instead of continuing to embarrass you, he puts the comic book on the table and mysteriously leans over at you, "Want some ice cream?"

Your eyes blink for a second and you replied honestly, "I want some."

"What flavour do you like?"

"Vanilla." A hazy recollection of the last time he said he wanted to buy you ice cream came to mind.

"Not considering strawberry flavour?" Izana's bright eyes look at you, straightening to imply.

You take the hint with good grace, "Strawberry flavour is good too."

Then Izana pulls out two ice creams from behind him like a trick, handing you the pink one of them, the brown one he leaves in his hand.

Taking the cooled ice cream, you whisper close to him, "The owner doesn't let people eat in the shop."

"So it's going to be sneaky." Izana winks at you and picks up the detective comic he's reading, blocking the coffee-flavoured ice cream inside the comic book.

As the night wiped out, he drove you back, and this time he didn't start the motorcycle immediately after you sat down, but straightened his back without looking back, "Lean over a bit, it'll be more comfortable."

As he said, you carefully wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin tentatively on his shoulder. The intimacy stops the deer in the headlights in your heart, and you feel like your whole body is about to fly off the handle.

And you did fly out.

In the cool evening breeze, with Izana.

After that, he came to school to find you more frequently. You seemed to fall into a slightly drunken mist and couldn't stop approaching him, as if he was poisonous.

Then, once again, he was bumped into by Mikey when he came to your school again.

"Izana, come out and we need to talk." Mikey looks at Izana, who is standing beside you, and glares at him with somewhat somber eyes.

Izana smiled frivolously at you, and then walked out with Mikey.

You don't know exactly what they said that day, except that Mikey told you to stay away from Izana. But, you can no longer listen to Mikey’s words because your eyes were already all over Izana.

At night when you were watching a film with him, as the lights in the screening room dimmed, Izana suddenly bullied his way closer to you, his warm touch covering your lips, and didn't stay long before he left.

Looking at the lit up screen, you finally realize with the benefit of hindsight that those appeared to be Izana’s lips just now.

We kissed?

Wait a minute, first kisses are something you fantasise about. In front of the flowers and the moon, under the incomparably beautiful scenery, the two watched each other slowly approaching until their own shadows were reflected in each other's eyes.

How did this just go by unspecified? It doesn't fit your fantasy.

As the hero and heroine kiss together in the film, the sensational music plays and Izana leans in again, strong arms encircling you in his arms before his deft, wet tongue burrows into the shocked you.

It was dark in front of you, and your mind was dizzy. You seemed to know what had happened and didn’t know, you only vaguely realized that what you had seen countless times in those comic books and acted in the movie in front of you should be the same thing that was happening between you and Izana. This is roughly like it.

When the film ended to take you back, you shook your head and told him, "I don't want ice cream today."

Izana smiles at you, his neat teeth flashing in your vision, "I don't feel like eating today either."

When you went to bed at night, you could never sleep well, and when you finally drifted off to sleep, you had very strange dreams. When you got up in the morning and saw the chandelier overhead, you were surprised to be reminded again of Izana kissing you in the dimly lit cinema last night.

He came to you again, in the crowd after school. You walked towards him shyly, as usual.

Izana was driving you through the evening crowds when he suddenly pulled over and turned to you, his bright gaze crashing right into your eyes.

"Like me?"

A tremor runs through your heart, then it beats rapidly. You hung your head low and didn't dare look at him, only gripping his sleeve.

Long fingers lifted your chin, and Izana’s smiling eyes looked into yours. "Good girl. Tell me, like me?"

It seems he won't leave you alone until you answer properly, and you nod at his burning gaze, replying in a voice as tiny as a mosquito's, "..like you."

"I didn't expect it to be reached so soon." Izana looks at you with a smile, a light in his eyes that you can't read, he glances at you, satisfaction filling his brow, "I’ll take you somewhere."

You clutched his waist in a haze, some crashing unease underneath your heart that scared you a little for no reason. The motorcycle weaved through the dimly lit alleyways for a long time, finally stopping at a park.

Izana steps out of the motorcycle and takes your hand to lead you forward. You don't know where he's taking you until you see a dark group of people, and in the middle of those people, you see Mikey's silhouette.

"(name), say again what you just said to me." Izana looks at you, warm fingertips running across your cheek.

Mikey frowns at Izana and then at you.

"Good girl, say it. Like me?" Izana seems to be like the devil who follows the path and teaches you to say what he wants.

Under the gaze of Mikey and the others' eyes, you nodded, but were never able to say it definitively with everyone watching.

Mikey looks at Izana with a complicated gaze, and you wonder why. He looks over at you, not a single light in his onyx eyes, and his voice is deep and gripping to hear.

"Is it true, (name)?"

You didn't answer, but it was tantamount to acquiescence.

Mikey walks towards you, and as he passes Izana, he seems to whisper something that you didn’t hear clearly.

Izana turned to look at Mikey, who had taken a step, "Mikey, I stole the person you liked from you, at least show that you care a little more."

What is he talking about? Why can't you understand the situation. Does Manjiro like you? No.. it can't be, although your relationship is good, but it's just a young taming dye that you grew up together, other than that there is no other affection.

Speaking of which, you've rarely hung out with Mikey since Izana showed up, he seems to have a lot more going on after school, and when he comes to see you during holidays you always decline with the excuse that you have something else going on.

Mikey didn't look back, leaving only a faint sentence that drifted away into the wind.

"Treat her well."

Toman’s people are far away, and you and Izana are the only ones left in the large park. You're gradually easing out of the situation you just found yourself in, still somewhat unable to believe it.

"It doesn't show much, but that guy should be pretty upset." Izana looks at Mikey's figure as he walks away, a gleam of excited madness in his eyes that scares you a little.

"Izana.." you whisper to him, hoping he will calm down and return to his usual self.

Izana’s gaze returns to you, and he looks at you lightly, a gaze that sends chills down your spine, as if he's just looking at the one thing he doesn't care about at all.

Suddenly, he laughed and looked at you slightly. "Game over, stupid kitty. We have to say bye-bye."

"What are you talking about.." Your cheek muscles twitch a little, and you feel chills throughout your body as your heart plummets straight down.

"Still can’t see it?" Izana looks at you as if he thinks you're a pain in the arse, "Because Mikey likes you, that’s why I approached you to steal you from him. Now the goal has been achieved, so.."

He spreads his hands and makes a motion at you, the look on his face quickly turning cold, "It means you're of no use, get lost."

"I'm not interested in you at all ..but I do like the fractured look on your face right now."

An object is thrown at your feet, a small box, which you give to him, "You'd better keep this for yourself, I won't wear such ugly earrings."

Looking at the delicate little box, the lid scratched open to reveal the simple but cool shaped earrings inside.

How could that be, that was something you bought the materials and drew the pattern with your own hands and made with your own hands, and it took you several nights to finally get it right, and it was just thrown on the ground and thrown into the dirt so easily like that.

Looking at those earrings, you feel like that's who you are, casually thrown down, lightly buried in the dirt, unappreciated and unloved.

When he left you don't remember, only that you stood there for a long time as if you had stopped the swinging clock altogether, staring at the earrings in the dirt. Until the watery feeling slid down your face, until you were too tired to stand.

You didn't pick up that earring in the end. Since no one wants it, why not just throw it there and bury it in the dirt?

Life goes on, and even if the sky collapses at the bottom of your heart, the world remains the same, and doesn't stop working just because of someone's sadness or happiness.

Your best friend was curious about why the handsome guy who had been waiting for you had suddenly disappeared, and after asking you twice and noticing your low mood, she stopped asking and came over to comfort you instead.

Men are all passing by, only close friends are eternal.

You agree with her with a hard smile, then took her notes over to copy them.

After that you never saw Izana Kurokawa again, Mikey did come and ask you what happened, you just shook your head and didn't answer him. The day went on as usual, it wouldn't carry on without anyone. Going to class, taking exams, hanging out with your best friend in your spare time, and occasionally going to see the Manjiro's gang assembly, the days seemed to go by comfortably, except, it seemed like there was no way to smile like before.

Three years later, you successfully graduated, and through some hard interviews, you ended up in a pretty good company, and started a life as a miserable social animal. The love in school days seems to be a thing of the last century, and much has changed for yourself and those around you.

Three months after joining the company, we had a year-end reception. The company seems to be doing very well this year and the reception was huge. You flow between the many delicious foods with a small plate, pinching what you want to eat onto your plate.

Take a little at a time, and take more if you like to eat, so as to prevent waste.

Just as you're filling up a plate and getting ready to pick a clean corner to feed yourself, the large reception suddenly goes quiet.

The minister's excited voice rang through the room as he was shouting about the company's key partners for next year. Then, as you bring a morsel to your mouth, you see the man's silhouette again.

His hair is no longer the short, sleek hair it was then, but a little curly, just still wearing the same hanafuda earrings he had back then. There is no childishness when he raises his hands and feet, but is full of the smell of a mature man.

Your eyes were a little sore, and the delicious food in your mouth seemed to suddenly not taste, but you still kept stuffing them into your mouth as if you're starving to death.

"Wow, that guy is so handsome." The female colleague beside you looked at the man not far away with both eyes, her hand blocking her lips as if she was afraid that her voice would reach the man's ears.

The conversation between the minister and the man continues. You slowly eat your entire plate of food all the way through, feeling a little sick to your stomach. Standing up and sneaking away from the bustling crowd, you slowly make your way towards the bathroom.

At that moment, you felt as if you were completely naked, as if everyone knew that you were jokingly played and discarded by men.

Sitting on the white toilet, you slowly calmed down your thoughts. It sucks to think about something that should have been thrown in the coffin a long time ago.

Walking out of the cubicle, you scooped up a handful of water at the sink and washed your awful face. When you looked up into the mirror, you were so shocked by the image that you forgot to breathe.

Izana stood behind you, his gaze falling on yours in the mirror, his bright, deep eyes startling you. Busy averting your gaze, as if to hide something, you rinse your wrists with water.

"...... It’s really you." A low voice rings out behind you, the man's body behind you, and even though you're not in direct contact, you're already trying to subconsciously run away.

No, you can't be this useless. It's been so long that you can’t let him see the sick joke anymore.

"Is something the matter?" Turning off the tap, you step aside to the draw and pull out a piece of tissue to wipe your wet palms. Izana followed, and his body surrounded you. When you wanted to walk away from the other side, his arm suddenly reached out and pressed against the wall, blocking your way.

"How have you been these past few years?"

"Good." Swallowing your saliva, you answered lightly, and then asked back, "How about you?"

"Fine."

You greeted each other like old friends you hadn't seen in years, the air became incredibly quiet for a moment, you were so hoping that someone would suddenly come over and then you'd have an excuse to walk away, but there was no one.

"I've got work to do, please step aside." Having no choice but to open your mouth.

Izana’s body approached you from behind, his fever touching your neck, and your body shivered for a moment, and just as you couldn't hold back the urge to push him away, a low, suppressed voice came from behind you.

"I didn't realise how much I missed you until I saw you.."

Your body stiffened there, the corners of your eyes are a little sore. Izana’s breath sprayed on your back, his ethereal voice came from the quiet space, "Hate me?"

You didn't say anything, just felt your heart seized with pain and astringent, one by one, almost unable to breathe.

"That would be hatred."

Footsteps are heard in the distance, you calmed down from the trance as if you had just woken up from a dream, tossing the soaked paper into the bin at your feet and straightening up, exhaled slowly.

"It's all in the past. I don't care about those things anymore. I'm doing fine now."

When he doesn't take his arm away, you remind him, "Get out of the way, I have things to do, my husband is waiting for me at home .."

Izana still didn’t move his arm, he blocked you between his chest and the wall with his body, the scent of his breath melting into yours, "You don't have a husband, and you haven't dated anyone in the past few years."

"So, don't you understand? I don't want to talk to you." He'd better stay away from you and never ask you to see him again.

"Want some ice cream?" Instead of answering you, he asked abruptly.

Your body shook, and those past memories seemed like countless knives, suddenly stabbing into your body, "…… I rarely eat ice cream anymore, especially strawberry flavour."

"Really, I haven't eaten for a long time either."

Unable to stand the stifling air, you push his arm away from you with all your might, leaving the encirclement of his body and walking quickly towards the venue. You clenched your hand, left the bathroom quickly, and then greeting to a close colleagues before excusing yourself for an early withdrawal due to a family matter.

As you walked downstairs, you were about to take a cab home when a familiar rumble sounded beside your ears. You looked along the sound, and not far away a tall motorbike pulls up. With its familiar streamlined tall back seat, in a trance, you thought time had gone back.

Izana sits in the bike seat looking over at you, his burning gaze betting on you as if you were the only thing he could see in his eyes.

In that moment, you remembered a lot of things. You're sat together in a comic book shop, reading a book while eating ice cream under the cover of a comic; In the rushing night breeze, you hugged his waist, put your chin on his shoulder, and felt his body heat; Stolen first kiss in a dimly lit cinema; you're holding the phone, carefully approaching the side of his face. The fact that he looked at you coldly and said the game was over and you're no longer of any use.

Looking at the motorbike parked next to you, which was more cool and domineering than at that time, you hung your head low and suddenly seemed to say to yourself, "Since then, I've been thinking all the time, if you come over to me again, not to do anything, just to come to me and talk, that's fine ..But you never showed up again.."

Stepping away from the super eye-catching motorbike, the thought crossed his mind that he still preferred motorbikes, when it was clear that a four-wheeled vehicle was more suited to a successful man.

In the dark night, Izana’s voice came from behind, ghostly, as if it had come from another world.

"After that, I went to find you."

There's a pause in your footsteps as you move forward again. So what, it's all over now, it's too late for anything.

Groggy and half asleep at night, it wasn't until the early hours of the morning that you finally fell asleep for good, and then shortly after that you were woken up again by the alarm. When you walked downstairs, you walked to the tram station you were on, when out of the corner of your eye you suddenly caught a glimpse of something, and you looked over in surprise, frowning at the person who wasn't supposed to be here.

Izana sits on his motorbike and smiles at you. You look at him twice, and with a sharp eye, you notice that the earrings he's wearing have changed from the ones you made back then. Just when he thinks you're going to walk past, you turn your head in the direction of the station.

From that day on, he intervened in your life again, came to disturb you every morning and night, but he was ignored by you without exception.

Meanwhile, large bouquets of brightly coloured flowers start appearing on the company's desks, and you gave them to your colleagues.

After a week, you walked up to Izana. Who routinely waits for you, and you looked at him, "Who are you trying to steal from again, or have you thought of other fun ways to play?"

Izana looks at you, the thin light from the streetlamps spilling into his eyes like bright stars, "Trying to take your heart back."

You look at him twice, dashing past him. The hell with trusting him again, you don't fall into the same pit twice. Once is enough, twice is really stupid.

It has been proved that what happened before is bound to happen after that. What happened in the past will happen again. There is nothing new under the sun.

After three months of Izana’s unbelievable stupidity waiting in his motorbike at your house and downstairs of the company, you finally have the grace to get in his car and then you're coaxed and cajoled into eating your way out of it, it was too late to resist when you finally realized.

Why was it so easy to be fooled..

The day after it's over, you've been waiting for him to show his cards. You don't know what's being played this time, hoping it's interesting and not a childish gamble like last time.

After waiting all day for the expected ‘game over’, just when you were thinking about whether there was a second phase, Izana came to your house with a bouquet of flowers and kindly cooks for you.

After you've watched him bring out the food with a look as if you've been struck by lightning, Izana finally got your face. "Thinking about whether I’m gonna say that you're no longer of any use again?"

Your eyes widen, although you didn’t say anything, but the eyes said what you were thinking.

"This time I’m going to play with you for the rest of your life.." A low, sickly voice blows into your ears, Izana’s lips are on yours, with his breath, his flavour feeds long into your mouth, until you all merge together without intermittent.

The time after that is all about you.

reblogs and likes are appreciated, thank you for reading this far !! have a nice night/day, and take care <3

[lavenderstobins]

Steve helps Lucas practice, sometimes. Patrick often watches them from where he's practicing across the court, listening to Buckley from band heckle them from where she sits with a book nearby. He doesn't know how she's connected to Lucas or Steve, but she's always there, too.

He’d heard once, from Lucas, that the two take him out for celebratory ice cream after each game, whether they win or not.

Patrick watches Steve and Lucas practice, the easy way Lucas is relaxed around him, even when he’s calling him out. When Buckley shouts at Lucas “TACKLE HIM!” Steve shouts back “THAT’S NOT HOW IT WORKS!”, his tone doesn’t make her sound stupid. He’s laughing, and it looks like sunlight is breaking through on an overcast day. Dazzling, almost.

He’s not sure why Steve’s still around. He graduated a year ago, but he seems happy to be here, practising with Lucas and being heckled by Buckley whenever she looks up from her book. Either way, it’s… not quite a surprise, but nice to see.

The fourth time, he’s caught watching.

Lucas waves at him, beckoning him over, and introduces him to Steve.

Steve, glistening with sweat, turns to him and his face lights up. “I know Pat,” he says, grinning. “Hey, man, how’re you doing?”

He’d remembered his name.

“I’m good,” Patrick manages to say. “It’s, uh, good to see you.”

Steve laughs at that, golden in the sunlight.

“You don’t have to lie for my expense,” he says lightly, clapping him on the shoulder. “I know we didn’t get much of a chance to talk in school.”

His hand is warm against his sleeve.

“No, man, I mean it,” Patrick blurts out, because it is nice to see him. Then, in an effort to recover his dignity, he makes a lame comment about Lucas being a good player, and to watch out, he’ll be running them off the court soon.

“I don’t doubt it,” Steve says, puffing up with pride. Lucas, beside them, looks bashful, shying away from the praise.

Steve looks at his watch, then at Buckley sitting nearby, and finally lets his gaze settle back on Patrick.

“Well, we’ll stop hogging the court,” he says, and Patrick thinks of Achilles, golden and godlike among men. “It’s about time for us to go, anyway. I’d wish you good luck, but I’ve seen you in the game—You’re fantastic.”

Patrick's face heats up. “Thanks,” he manages, and then, feeling brave, “see you at the games?”

Steve grins at him, throwing his arm around Lucas' shoulders.

“You bet,” he says. “We’ll cheer extra loud for you both.”

Then they leave, walking over towards Buckley. Patrick watches as Steve pulls her up, the two of them laughing, and something wistful twists in his chest. He'd like Steve to laugh that easily around him.

No matter. It's unlikely they'll get a chance to talk again.

Still, today has been... nice.

He picks up a basketball, turning back to the hoop. He tries to push the feeling of Steve's hand on his arm from his mind.

(read on ao3)

[mywomankatarina]

"𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐍𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭"

Katarina x f! reader - 𝗔𝗿𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗲

A = Aftercare – Katarina isn’t the softest person in battle, but when it comes to you, she’s surprisingly gentle. After an intense night, she won’t say much, but her actions speak louder—cleaning you up, pulling you close, and running her fingers through your hair until you drift off. She’s not used to vulnerability, but she’ll show it in the way she makes sure you’re comfortable.

B = Body Part – Her favorite part of your body? Your thighs. She loves gripping them, kissing them, and leaving marks as proof that you’re hers. But if we’re talking about her own body, she knows her abs drive you crazy, and she doesn’t hesitate to flex a little when she catches you staring.

C = Cum – Katarina is possessive in bed, and she loves making a mess of you. Seeing you covered in proof of her efforts makes her smirk in satisfaction. She’s also a bit of a tease—she’ll drag her fingers through it and make you watch before she cleans you up herself.

D = Dirty Talk – Oh, she’s filthy. Katarina has a sharp tongue, and in bed, it’s no different. She’ll whisper the dirtiest things in your ear, telling you exactly how good you feel, how desperate you are, and how much she loves ruining you. Expect teasing insults mixed with praise—she loves pushing you until you’re whimpering from her words alone.

E = Experience – Let’s be real—Katarina knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s confident, precise, and absolutely ruthless in making sure you’re satisfied. She’s been with others before, but none of them ever mattered the way you do, and that makes her even more determined to make you fall apart beneath her.

F = Favorite Position – She loves being in control. Whether it’s pinning you down and making you beg or having you straddle her lap so she can guide your movements, Katarina is a dominant lover. She also has a thing for bending you over anything nearby—tables, walls, even her own desk—just to remind you who’s in charge.

G = Goofy – Katarina isn’t the type to joke around during sex. She’s intense, focused, and completely consumed by you. But after? If you’re all flustered and breathless, she might smirk and say something cocky like, “Didn’t think you could handle me, huh?” just to see you get flustered all over again.

H = Hair – She keeps herself well-groomed but doesn’t overthink it. Katarina is all about practicality, so she prefers to keep things tidy without making it a big deal. That said, she loves when you tug on her hair, especially when she’s between your legs—if you do, expect a low growl and an even rougher pace.

I = Intimacy – Katarina isn’t used to soft, tender moments, but with you, she’s learning. She might start rough, but the way she holds you afterward, the way she murmurs your name in a rare, breathless moment—it’s raw, intense, and deeply intimate. You make her feel things she’s never felt before, and that scares her, but she’ll show you in the way she kisses you like she never wants to stop.

J = Jack Off – Katarina has incredible self-control, but when she’s away on missions for too long, thinking about you is her only relief. She’ll run a hand down her body, thinking about the way you moan her name, how soft your skin feels against hers. If she has a piece of your clothing—especially lingerie—she’ll keep it close, smirking at how desperate she’s become for you.

K = Kink – Possession. Marking. Control. Katarina loves owning you, whether it’s biting your skin until it bruises or holding you down until you’re completely at her mercy. She also has a bit of a praise kink—but only when you beg for her. Hearing you whimper, “Please, Kat, I need you,” is pure fuel to her dominant nature.

L = Location – She has no shame. The bedroom? Too easy. She’ll take you against a wall, on a desk, in the training room, even in risky places where someone might hear. Katarina thrives on adrenaline, and knowing you’re just as desperate for her, no matter where you are, only makes her want you more.

M = Motivation – You. The way you look at her, the way you react to her touch—it’s enough to drive her crazy. But if you’re being a little brat? Acting defiant? Oh, she’ll put you in your place. Nothing makes her more eager than reminding you exactly who you belong to.

N = NO – Katarina is dominant, but she’s never cruel. She respects your boundaries without hesitation, and if you ever tell her to stop, she will—immediately. She might tease and push limits, but she would never do anything that makes you uncomfortable.

O = Oral – She’s a master at it. Katarina is skilled, relentless, and loves watching you fall apart under her tongue. She’ll take her time, teasing you until you’re begging for more. And when she finally gives in? She won’t stop until you’re completely wrecked.

P = Pace – Fast and intense. Katarina doesn’t do slow unless she’s teasing you. She loves making you squirm, loves the way you arch into her touch, but once she’s started, she won’t stop until she’s completely satisfied with the mess she’s made of you.

Q = Quickie – She loves them. Missions, meetings, even training sessions—if she wants you, she’ll take you. She’s skilled enough to make it quick, but she’ll make sure you feel it for hours afterward.

R = Risk – She’s a thrill-seeker, and that applies to the bedroom too. She enjoys the risk of getting caught, whether it’s a hidden corner of the war room or sneaking into your quarters late at night. The danger just makes it hotter.

S= Stamina – Insane. Katarina has trained her body for endurance, and that applies in bed too. She can go for hours, pushing you to your limits until you’re a shaking, overstimulated mess. And the best part? She loves seeing you struggle to keep up.

T = Toys – She doesn’t use them often—she is the toy. But if she ever does? She’ll make you watch as she tests it on herself first, just to see how desperate you get before she even touches you.

U = Unfair – She’s a tease. Katarina loves pushing you until you’re begging, dragging things out just to hear you whimper. She’ll hover her lips over yours, whispering, “Do you really want it? Beg me for it.”

V = Volume – She’s not loud, but the low, husky growls and breathless curses in your ear? Absolutely sinful.

W = Wild Card – She loves using her knives. Not in a dangerous way, but she might trail the cold blade along your skin, watching as goosebumps rise. The contrast of the steel against your warmth? It drives her insane.

X = X-Ray – She’s fit, toned, and incredibly strong. Years of training have sculpted her body to perfection, and she knows it. She catches you staring? She’ll smirk and say, “Like what you see?”

Y = Yearning – If she’s away too long, expect her to make up for it tenfold when she returns. The moment she sees you? You’re not leaving that bed for hours.

Z = ZZZ – Afterward, she’ll pull you close, one arm draped protectively over you. She might not say much, but the way she holds you? It says everything.

Author's note - Send request!! btw i do wnba too

[doodle-pops]

Curufin With A Smitten Reader Would Include…

A/N: Wanted to do a little surprise today and treat all the Curufin lovers to a nice piece about him. Also based on a conversation I had over here ➽ ASK. And, Valentine’s Day was just two days ago, so it made sense for him to have so much attention lol

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• Curufin was used to admiration—whether it was for his craft, his skill in battle, or simply being the son of Fëanor, there was never a shortage of people who either respected or feared him. But you? You were something else entirely. You didn’t just admire him—you practically worshipped the ground he walked on, and he was absolutely thriving off it.

• It started off amusing to him. He caught you watching him a little too intently while he worked on some intricate piece of metalwork, and when he looked up, instead of feigning indifference like a normal person, you just sighed dreamily and muttered, “Your hands are wasted on mere steel.” He had to pause his work entirely, torn between laughter and sheer delight at the audacity of it.

• “Oh? And what, pray tell, should they be doing instead?” He leaned forward slightly, intrigued, half expecting you to get embarrassed. You didn’t. You simply said, “Holding me.” The arrogance. The sheer confidence. He decided right then and there that he was keeping you.

• If he ever needed an ego boost (not that he would ever admit to such a thing), he would simply go to you. It was guaranteed that whatever he was doing, you would find it spectacular. Sharpening a blade? “You make it look so elegant.” Giving orders? “Your voice could command the stars.” Even just existing? “I swear the air is sweeter when you’re near.” It didn’t matter if he was being ruthless or sarcastic—your response was always adoration, and he drank it in like fine wine.

• He loved seeing how effortlessly you prioritised him in everything. If he was speaking, you were listening, hanging on every word like it was a revelation from Eru himself. If he had an idea, you supported it without question, often embellishing it with some flowery praise about his brilliance. And if anyone dared speak against him in your presence? Oh, you would defend him with the fervour of a zealot.

• “You’re ridiculous,” he told you once, watching as you argued on his behalf with a stubborn Noldo who dared question his methods. You turned to him, all righteous fury, and said, “No, they are ridiculous for doubting you.” He stared at you for a moment, then simply pulled you close and kissed you, because what else could he do?

• He found it endlessly entertaining how you always managed to spin his worst traits into something admirable. He was ruthless? No, he was determined. He was sharp-tongued? No, he was eloquent. He was arrogant? No, he simply knew his worth. You once told him, with complete sincerity, “You’re not arrogant—you’re just burdened with accuracy.” He defined had to sit down after that one.

• You became something of a menace to his brothers as well. Celegorm was used to people flattering Curufin, but he wasn’t used to it being this relentless. One time, after a particularly long string of your praises, Celegorm just groaned and said, “Do you even hear yourself? You sound like a lovesick bard.” Without missing a beat, you replied, “At least bards have taste.”

• You were, to put it simply, a devoted enabler. If Curufin had an idea, no matter how outrageous, you supported it wholeheartedly. If he wanted to make an impossibly intricate piece of jewellery, you encouraged him. If he suggested an elaborate strategy, you were already making plans. Even when he was scheming, you didn’t bat an eye.

• “Are you truly alright with this?” he asked once, watching you as he detailed some cunning plan. Most people would have hesitated, but you just smiled and said, “I trust you.” There was something almost terrifying about your blind faith in him, but he wasn’t about to complain.

• You had a habit of watching him like he was the most fascinating thing in Arda. Whether he was crafting, strategising, or just standing there, you always looked at him as if he personally hung the stars in the sky. It was a gaze he never quite got used to, but he never wanted it to stop.

• “What are you staring at?” he asked once, half-amused, half-smug, as he caught you watching him work. You just sighed and said, “Perfection.” He nearly ruined the piece he was working on.

• It didn’t matter how long you were together—your admiration for him never wavered. Even when he was at his worst, when others turned away in fear or doubt, you remained steadfast. If anything, you admired him even more when he was sharp and unyielding.

• “You should be careful,” someone warned you once. “Curufin is not an easy man.” You just smiled and said, “Then it’s a good thing I don’t want easy.” When Curufin heard about it later, he just shook his head and muttered, “You are utterly impossible.” But the way he kissed you after said otherwise.

• Your devotion was so unwavering that even Fëanor, for all his pride, had to take note. He once watched as you waxed poetry about Curufin’s skill and said dryly, “Are you certain you are not one of mine?” Curufin, to his credit, simply smirked and pulled you closer. “Too late, father,” he said. “They’re mine.”

• Even in battle, you were a force of nature, not because you were the strongest, but because you fought like someone with something to prove. If Curufin was on the battlefield, you were by his side, defending him with a passion that even his own kin couldn’t match. It was both impressive and slightly alarming.

• “You fight like a mad thing,” he told you once, after you had quite literally thrown yourself into danger for him. You just grinned and said, “Well, if I die, I’ll haunt you, so you’re stuck with me either way.” He didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.

• You had a habit of collecting things he made, as if they were holy relics. If he so much as discarded a half-finished design, you were there, scooping it up like it was a lost Silmaril. “You do realise that’s flawed, don’t you?” he said once, watching you examine a ring he had deemed unworthy. You just smiled and said, “Everything you touch is gold to me.” He scoffed, but he didn’t take it away from you.

• Your presence became something he relied on more than he cared to admit. For all his confidence, for all his cunning, there was something grounding about having you there, endlessly loyal, endlessly devoted. Others might have called you a fool for it, but he knew better. He knew that kind of loyalty was rare, and he would never take it for granted.

• “You’re dangerous,” he murmured one night, watching as you curled up beside him, looking at him as if he was your entire world. You smiled and said, “Only for you.” And for once, he had no clever reply—only the quiet, undeniable realisation that he had never been more adored in his life.

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